Disclaimer: I own every character in this chapter except for two. Their names are Lyn and Hassar. I do not own Sacae. I also do not own the organizations, settings, cultures that appear in the game. If they are in the game, how the hell am I going to achieve that?
AN: This one is a bit long, I hope the length does not equate to tediousness. That would suck bad. Ah well.
Gunlord500: Levin appeared from top of my head. I never really bothered with earlier FEs, I was just one crazy nut for the Blazing Sword. Hence the Denning.
Nils-Fimbulvetr: Your wait is at the end. I hope you enjoy.
-x-x-x-x-
Husk
Husk should have been at his work place.
Instead, Husk was on the floor, covering his face as well as he could with his right arm. A kick crashed into his left side, where his kidney was. The pain was excruciating; it was something he would never get used to, no matter how many times he was assaulted in such a manner. Another kick stomped on top of his left arm but he did not care about that.
"You filthy half-blood bastard!" The shout contained no remorse; in fact, one could almost hear the glee in the voice of the perpetrator of violence.
Husk did not protest; his past experiences had taught him that protesting only fed his attacker's violence. He curled up tighter, starting to feel excess pain from bruises that were starting to form.
"Don't you think he's had enough, Kirin?" It was one of Kirin's 'friends', although he never considered them his equal. Kirin's companions usually were the ones who prevented the Sacaen from injuring him permanently.
"As if, Jurn. This trash thinks he can lay his eyes on Lyn. Must make sure he learns to not do so." Kicks continued to stream in as the Sacaen spoke. A lucky – or unlucky, from Husk's point of view – shot bypassed his defending arm and struck his mouth. Taste of blood came.
"Stop that right now!" At times, it was this voice's owner who stopped Kirin.
The kicks stopped. Unlike his friends' words, her words never needed to be told twice. Husk gasped heavily, letting his body relax, knowing the onslaught is over.
"Hello there, Lyn. I see you still look lovely." Kirin's voice had lost its cruel edge.
Honeyed words did not dissuade Lyn even slightly. "What is this, Kirin? Why are you kicking Husk?"
"He's just getting what he deserves, that's all." He may be courting her, but he was not going to cower to her for that; Kirin was too narcissistic to submit to anyone.
"Nobody deserves to be kicked senselessly." She challenged.
"I assure you, Lyn. Some people do." He would not back down.
"Tell me what he did then, Kirin."
"I say his very existence earns him what I've dished out." His tone clearly indicated his lack of intention to comply her command. "Why should you care about what I do to the one-armed retard anyway?"
There was a furious glint in the swordswoman's eyes. "Get lost, Kirin."
Her choosing Husk over him enraged Kirin. He growled, "Answer me, Lyn. Why are you so protective of this filthy half-blood?" One of Kirin's companions, one Husk knew to be smarter than others, gasped at Kirin's choice of words.
Lyn slowly hissed the words out, "I am a filthy half-blood myself. Kirin of Lorca." Her right hand grasped the hilt of her iron sword tightly.
Kirin realized what he had just done. "I am not calling you filthy, Lyn. It only applies to…"
"GET LOST!" She cut him short in mid-sentence. Kirin hesitated at being yelled at, but slowly backed off; he knew he had crossed the line this time. He left and rest of his goons followed.
Husk watched them gone. "Well, that's a relief." His voice startled Lyn out of her anger and made her attend to his condition.
"That looks terrible." She gently prodded his beginning-to-swell lips. It hurt, but Husk was not going to refuse gentle care from the girl he was sweet on because of that; he was good at tolerating pain anyway. He feigned indifference. "I've had far worse."
"That does not necessarily make me feel better."
"Yes, yes. I am a selfish bastard." He groaned inwardly at his inborn jerk attitude. It was how he behaved when experiencing awkwardness and currently, he was feeling very awkward from Lyn's proximity.
His reply caused her to frown. "You have no excuse to be rude."
Her reprimand sparked some anger in him. "Excuse me? I've just been kicked around by probably the strongest youngster in the bloody tribe. Forgive me if I feel that it is an appropriate time to be rude."
"Even if that's so, why are you taking it out on me?" Her sharp retort brought Husk back to his senses.
"I..."
Lyn, who had quite a temper herself, was not done yet. "I don't understand you, Husk! You are always pushing people away, even those who want to be near you! What is wrong with you?" With that, she stomped away.
My left arm is only an elbow. I am a one-armed retard. Perhaps that is why I push people away. Guilty from his earlier outburst, Husk did not yell out his answer. He watched the back of Lyn until she disappeared among the tribesmen of Lorca. Then he spat the remaining blood out of his mouth and headed back to his workplace.
-x-x-x-x-
"You are back, eh, boy?" An old man's voice croaked as Husk entered the hut.
"Yes, elder. I have returned." He saw the elder, sitting in the well cushioned area of the hut – made by Husk – watching him like a hawk despite his poor eyesight.
"If my near-blind eyes serve me right, Kirin still got good kicks, eh?"
"He's as healthy as a bull, elder." The elder did not patronize nor show pity; that was why Husk liked him.
"I only wish he's as half as smart as the beasts. At least they have no troubles getting mates, eh?" This was also why Husk liked the elder.
"I completely agree, elder."
"Well, get to work, ambidextrous boy." Of course, the elder was not always likable.
Silently, Husk began to clean the hut and arrange the goods. The elder provided the tribe with herbal pastes and remedies, and it was Husk's job to make sure the man was able to get his hands on the ingredients and instruments necessary for the job, as well as attending to the man's other basic needs.
"Forget all that, Husk. Come here, I got to talk to you. And bring me my pipe."
Husk was curious about the man's deviation from the daily routines, but was wiser than to question his command. He took the three-foot long pipe and brought it to the elder.
"Aww, good stuff." The thick smoke began to feel the hut as he breathed out. The elder breathed in a couple more times. Husk waited patiently.
The man looked into his eyes. The piercing eyes tore into Husk's soul, giving Husk the impression of his sanctuary of mind being invaded. He knew such feats as mind reading was impossible, but thought that if such a feat was possible, this extremely knowledgeable man would have been the one to be able to do it.
"I have a job for you, Husk." He spoke after a lengthy silence. Husk waited for him to continue.
"I have a satchel by my side containing some vulnerary and a vial of elixir. I need it delivered." Husk gasped at the content. Elixir was very rare in Sacae.
"I want you to take them with you and go where Kirin and his goons are."
The words were rather unexpected; Husk could not prevent himself from muttering, "What?"
The elder frowned at his helper's outburst but did not remark. "You heard me. Go where the imbeciles are. They are probably hunting in the woods near the Bern Mountain. Go there."
"You want me to deliver to them?" Husk did not conceal his irritation.
Crack! The pipe smacked into Husk's head. "Do not be rude, boy. I will not tolerate such a thing, even if your sweetheart does." She's not my sweetheart. Husk was smart enough not to talk back.
The elder took another drag from the pipe before continuing, "Go to them, and you will know what to do."
"Yes, elder." He lowered his eyes so as to not show his state of upset.
"And, one more thing, Husk."
"Yes, elder?"
"Take your entire travel equipments."
"The entire travel set, elder?" Husk asked in confusion.
"Yes, yes. Why are you so daft today? The entire set."
"Why, elder?" He could not resist asking, despite risking another whack on the head.
"I hear there is a below-average-intelligence bull in the forest near Bern Mountain. That's good enough reason as any, eh?" The old man grinned.
"I understand, elder." The annoyance Husk had for the old man vanished in that moment.
"And do not forget the old Sacaen saying; running in forests slows more than walking." Husk puzzled over the elder's enigmatic words for a moment and then left the hut to fetch his gear.
-x-x-x-x-
Husk was deeply worried about this duty.
He was going to do it, no doubt. Husk was not going to disobey the elder; that could have some unpleasant consequences. However, to be by himself in a forest except with Kirin and his goons was not exactly conducive to his health either. This is some snag I've gotten myself into.
He wrecked his brain to the best of his abilities as he followed the trails left by the not so subtle Sacaens; broken branches and bent leaves marked their path.
He wondered how he was going to give the vulnerary and the elixir to them, assuming that was what the elder wanted him to do even though the man had not explicitly said so. Maybe if I just toss these damn things and run the hell for my life, I can lose them. No, they have both hands. They will not fail to catch me. How about I figure out where they will go and leave these at the…
"Who the hell do you think you are?" A shout came from the trees.
Husk cut his train of thought at the recognition of Kirin's voice. He ducked, expecting the brute to come charging at him at any moment. Only then did he realize – as he hid behind the tree to his side in anxious state of mind – that Kirin could not be asking him the question; he would have recognized his favorite punching bag anywhere.
Crouching, Husk began to head towards the location where Kirin's voice came from. Eventually, he saw Kirin and his goons in a small clearing just under an overhang where Husk was. He had a good view of the Sacaens beneath while being well-hidden.
Husk was also able to see who Kirin had shouted at.
They were burly men, with well-muscled bodies and hard looks. They had features similar to the Bernese men Husk had seen in the merchant caravans from time to time, albeit much bulkier in size. These men stared back at Kirin and his companions with no visible indications that they were intimidated or impressed. In fact, Husk saw some of Kirin's friends exchange nervous glances between each other. Among the strangers, a man stepped forward. From his posture, Husk assumed he was the leader of his group.
The man had an unruly tangle of hair and a frame that out-sized even Kirin. His clothes were in need of some repair and the tears revealed an armor of sorts underneath. A one-handed axe hung by his left side by a strap. He ran his left hand through the messy hair as he observed the Sacaen. He radiated confidence with his swaggers.
Husk noted in surprise that the man had no right hand but for a stump.
"I am Ijvul, pup. Watch your tone when you are addressing your betters."
Kirin's lips curled in contempt as he noted the man's disability.
"I am Kirin of Lorca, Ijvul, and I return your own advice to watch your tone when you are addressing your betters; just as a smart cripple should." He snarled.
Husk noticed slight shift among Ijvul's men. He turned his gaze back to their leader to see how he will react.
The man laughed.
It was a booming and intimidating laughter and Husk's stomach churned as he listened to the sound. Kirin slightly flinched at the man's outburst as well.
Then as suddenly as it started, the laughter ended. The silence that followed was heavy and tense, only broken when Ijvul spoke flatly, "you know what to do, lads."
Then the man launched a punch at Kirin.
Immediately, a fighting ensued.
The Kirin's guys were strong warriors, promising young men of Lorca with a lot of potentials. However, as of then, they were only just potentials and not skills. On the other hand, the men of Ijvul were obviously battle-hardened fighters who had often fought by each other's side. Ijvul's men slowly began to emerge victorious from the conflict, slaying every one of Kirin's friends.
Only Kirin was left alive at the end, bleeding from wounds he got from Ijvul's axe. He dropped to the ground when his opponent kicked him in the torso. Before the Sacaen could get up, Ijvul stomped his foot on the guy's chest hard to prevent him.
"Not so tough are you, pup?" The man leaned closer to Sacaen's face. Kirin could only cough out blood.
"I've lost my hand when you were just sucking on your mother's breast like a piglet. I do not appreciate being called a cripple by pups like you." His feet pressed harder, causing Kirin to groan in pain.
"I feel mortally insulted, you see. And I think I will seek to wash my anger away with your tribe's blood, Kirin of Lorca. I have some friends who will help me. Ever heard of bandits called Taliver?" The pressure from the foot still had Kirin groaning. The man smirked at his obvious agony.
"While being a cripple, I also happen to be Taliver leader's right hand man. I'm sure I can get some of fellows to join me on the adventure. They've heard Sacaen women are fierce ones, and they love fierce ones." He took his foot off.
"Well then, I will go look for my friends now, Kirin. You have some rest. You look to be in pain." Ijvul laughed at his own joke and began to walk away.
Husk witnessed Kirin's final moments.
With a growl, Kirin got up despite his severe injuries and charged at the man. He slammed his hands into the man's throat and began to choke his windpipe while the man fidgeted helplessly, unable to pry the vice-grip fingers with only one hand.
Then one of Ijvul's men came from behind and slashed at Kirin's back. From the depth of the blow, Husk knew it was fatal. Slowly, as if reluctant, Kirin crumbled and died.
Ijvul rubbed his neck for a moment then kicked at Sacaen's corpse. He and his bandit thugs then disappeared into the forest, heading towards the Bern Mountain.
-x-x-x-x-
Husk remained in his hiding for a moment, observing what he had just witnessed.
Kirin was dead. Husk was ashamed to realize that he felt small, cold satisfaction at the man's death. The years of abuse had run deeper than Husk had realized. He was relieved to find himself not dwelling on the man's death too much. His thoughts were mainly focused on the Taliver bandits; they were bandits notorious for their strength and heinous conducts. He had no reason to believe that Ijvul would choose not to attack his tribe just because Kirin was now dead. In fact, it seemed likely that the man will attack the Lorca as a form of reprisal for what Kirin had done. That made his next course of action obvious; he had to warn the tribe.
Before he headed back, he looked at the corpses below him. They are dead. Not even elixirs can heal the dead. This thought made him to glimpse at the satchel he still had with him. Guess I will have to keep these with me.
He suddenly jerked away from his distracted thoughts. I need to focus! Despite the common sense of not rushing in forested hills, Husk did so.
-x-x-x-x-
There are many times risky ventures cause people grief when they do not have luxuries for such things. As there is no way people can dominate fate, they must learn not to be hasty and tempt misfortune.
Husk was going to learn this lesson at this less than opportune time.
Just as he was about to exit the forest, a root caught him and tripped him. He fell to his left side and would have grabbed on the tree branches that surrounded him had it been not for his disability. He desperately flailed with his right but failed in his attempts. To his left was where the downslope began so his fall was considerably long. He crashed fully into a fallen tree trunk and impact drove the breaths out of him. Had he not been wearing his leather armor – which was part of his travel gear – he would have broken some ribs.
However, while he was uninjured in such a manner, his consciousness was slipping. No… I need to… get back…
His fall had also brought him out of the forest. He could see the huts of the tribe despite his blurring vision.
Darkness claimed him.
-x-x-x-x-
Husk was awake. He knew the fact from the pain. That and the glaring light of the twilight sun.
Various parts of the body kicked by Kirin ached sorely, informing him that the formation of bruises was proceeding fantastically. His chest where he crashed on to the trunk also hurt. He knew that he was lucky to be left with only bruises for this one. His travel leather vest had protected him adequately.
Once he regained his head, he recalled the gravity of the situation. I need to inform Chieftain Hassar. He looked up from the ground to the settlement.
There was no settlement when he looked up.
All he could see were the demolished huts and burnt ashes where his home used to be. The tents were all collapsed, the market area just a chaos of cloth, the stables now nothing but wooden skeletons of its former self and there were no people in sight, not the living ones anyway.
A sense of failure overwhelmed him. Had he not been so careless, he could have warned the tribe in time and saved his people. Chieftain Hassar was dead, the elder was dead and all the others he knew his entire life were dead. Among those, Lyn's face appeared most vividly… and most painfully. Immense guilt flowed with his sorrow. Because of my idiocy, Lorca is gone. No more.
He slumped into on to the ground, his leg too weak to support him. The movement made all his injuries smart. His eyes lost focus as he just stared at his destroyed home.
Then they came to focus once more as he detected movements: human movements.
When he could finally make out the group, the sight made his hands clench; it was a group of five bandits. From the look of it, they had remained after their comrades had left in order to continue looting. They all carried bundles of items that had belonged to Husk's people and were gleefully chatting among themselves, not bothering to be discreet. Why should they, when all threats were dead?
One of the thugs gestured at another's load across his shoulder and enthusiastically said something. The other returned the enthusiasm, shaking the load slightly to express his delight. Husk's attention was drawn to the load. Upon more careful observation, he could tell it was a person: a girl, judging from the clothing.
Husk's blood began to boil. What they would do to the girl was not even worth fathoming. The fury fuelled his lethargic body and he jumped to his feet. I am going to kill them all. Then the pain from his injuries caught up with him. Gritting his teeth, he tore open the satchel by his side and consumed a vial of vulnerary. The pain lessened, although did not disappear. Knowing that the rest will only slow him down, Husk set down the satchel. Just before he headed off, he took out the elixir and stored it in one of the pockets where his weapons were stored.
Time to go. He's eyes gleamed with determination.
-x-x-x-x-
"It was a good day today, Firnik?" Jelt called from his side.
"Sure was, Jelt. I got myself a new girl!" Firnik shook the Sacaen girl, who was bound and gagged, on his shoulder. She struggled feebly, but the earlier beating she received had stripped most of her strength.
"Yer not gonna get an inch o' sleep tonight, Firnik! That bitch look as fierce as drago… Ow!" To Firnik's right, Killben slapped the back of his throat as he yelled out.
"What's wrong, Killbe… Son of a bitch!" Jelt grabbed his right arm.
Both men pulled out their sources of pain. In their hands were darts.
"Darts? What crap is this?" Killben yelled out in anger.
"I see the barbarian!" Heckle called out from the front, pointing at the direction he saw the Sacaen for his comrades. They turned to see a boy among the woods, holding a blow pipe in his right hand. He did not have a left.
"Get the pup!" Firnik called out, not willing to let go of his prize yet. A single boy can't possibly be a problem.
Jelt, Killben and Heckle took out their axe. Iodim pulled out his bow and began to string it.
Just as they were about to charge, two things happened simultaneously.
Killben dropped to the floor like a stone, unmoving.
The boy whipped out two small hand-held objects from his pocket and hurled it at the Taliver bandits. Immediately, thick smoke rose from the objects.
Iodim bellowed in fury, "son of a bitch has smoke incendiaries! I can't see him!" He still nocked an arrow and had pulled the bowstring, ready to fire at first sighting of the Sacaen. At that moment, another dart flew out and hit his leg. "Gah!"
Heckle ran to the archer, while Jelt continued to survey the surroundings. I feel kind of dizzy. A figure appeared out of the shadows and took another shot. "I'm hit!" Firnik's voice was heard. Jelt ran towards the Sacaen before he could hide in the smoke and swiped his axe to the his side. Due to sudden nausea that had overcome him, the blow was weaker than it could have been, but he knew it was a deep wound nonetheless.
"Ack!" The boy pulled back from the axe in a hurry, dropping his pipe in the process.
Jelt was about to deliver the killing strike but then he faltered. The nausea claimed him and he was gone.
Watching Jelt crumble, Firnik knew the darts were poisoned. Knowing that he was going to die, he dropped the girl and went with Heckle to kill the Sacaen. They reached the spot the boy was last seen, and saw a trail of blood. They followed the trail until it suddenly ended beside a tree. As one, they looked up.
The boy was there, his expression full of agony; blood flowed from the axe-wound. However, their attention was drawn to the item in his hand. Before they could react upon what they saw, he hurled it as hard as he can.
The last they heard was a loud boom.
-x-x-x-x-
Iodim was experiencing a lot at the moment.
He had heard the explosion and assumed his comrades were dead.
He was feeling nauseous. Like Firnik, he had put two and two together and knew what was coming.
He was enraged, which did not help slowing blood circulation and staving off the effects of the poison.
He knew he was not going to kill the ambusher.
He saw the girl, still bound and gagged, her eyes showing confusion and fear at the turn of events.
He saw the fear grow as she saw him aiming his bow at her.
He did not recall shooting as darkness claimed him, but felt the arrow leave the bow.
-x-x-x-x-
Husk was in all sorts of pain.
He had prepared himself for the fall when the blast from his exploding incendiary knocked him off the tree. Still, fractured ribs were nothing to laugh about. Nor was the deep axe-wound to his side, for that matter. However, he did not consume the elixir.
At the moment, he was worried about the girl. He knew the man was poisoned, and expected the man to know it as well. He knew man with knowledge of certain death could do drastic things within their capabilities. He hoped for the best but feared the worst.
He reached the clearing where he had ambushed the bandits and the sight distracted him from the pain.
The archer was dead. That was not what distracted him.
The girl had an arrow jutting out of her abdomen.
As swiftly as his severe injuries allowed him, he approached the girl. The girl was unconscious. She was alive but if unattended, not for long.
Husk knew what he was going to do. Without any hesitation, he untied the bounds and gags on her. It was hard in his weak and severely bloodless state. After he had done so, he pulled the arrow out, ignoring the girl's wince at the pain. He took out the elixir and tipped the contents slowly so as to not choke her with the liquid. Once the vial was empty, he rested against a stone by the side, too weak to support himself.
The sun was still setting, informing Husk that the battle was not that long.
His gaze turned to the girl he had saved, wondering how her life would turn out to be. At least I did something right. He did not think the words, before I died. Although he knew it was coming.
He wished to see the girl awaken before inevitable arrived, but his wish was not granted.
-x-x-x-x-
AN: Husk is done. No pun intended.
Basically, I like this. Yeah I do. It could be better, it's a tad bit too long for my liking but guess what? I like the guy.
I wanted to save the fellow, maybe plot out a love story (I like the idea of love, just not all its applications) with the girl but my realistic pessimism took hold. After all, not everyone is immune to death, just like the main characters are.
I also did not want the girl to be one to be rescued, but could not put myself to have the bandits kidnapping a guy. That was quite far-fetched. Unless the guy was Lucius, I doubt the scenario likely.
Well, it's done, for better or for worse, after so many idea scrapping.
I have decided to scrap my main story by the way and restart with a whole new more structured plot.
That's about it ppl. I love the reviews, just to let you know.
desoldeben out.