Over the next month, Sparrow spent her time living in that cabin with the newly named Crow, feeding him until he was able to properly feed himself, beating him until he got the hint that she wasn't going to bend over for him, and generally taking care of him while abusing him. Meanwhile, I've spent most of this time learning about Crow, who had apparently been a grunt of a thug when Sparrow was a child. Then, suddenly, one day, Sparrow woke up from the bed (Crow slept in a cot on the ground) with a groan, and she kicked Crow. When she finally got him up, Crow revealed himself in his new glory. He had blackened, charred skin that was nonetheless smooth, and was a stick of a man by now. She dragged him outside, to his protest, and then there was a bandit in the cage. In fact, there were several. "You!" Sparrow called to the bandits in the cage. "If you kill this guy I'll let you go, no questions asked." The bandits looked to each other, then all grinned. I could already sense the feelings of hostility and victory forming in their minds. Crow opened his mouth and yelled. "What do you mean by that? Did you do all this to simply have my own people kill me?" Sparrow turned to glare at him. Then, suddenly, I was flying through the air with Sparrow exclaiming "Catch." Crow caught me, staring at me with a strange look. No doubt he had never expected Sparrow to give him me, the one thing she kept on her at all times. Then, Sparrow threw a couple swords and pistols in the cage, and the bandits rejoiced as she opened it. Being suddenly confronted by the bandits, Crow lifted me clumsily and fired. The bullet barely came within a foot of the man he fired at. Fire right idiot! I silently exclaimed.
Crow aimed more carefully though, and the bullet struck the bandit that charged forward in the shoulder, with a second one striking his gut. With each bullet I cheered, screaming out my own sounds with happiness as my Sparrow's decision was reinforced. Then, after four more somewhat decently aimed bullets, both bandits were dead. Then I saw Sparrow off to the side, apparently talking to Theresa. I only caught a snatch of what she said: "Shut up, I'm gonna use him!" before she began to pace and walked out of hearing range. Meanwhile, Crow was nervously picking up the various weapons that had dropped and preparing to leave. "Oi!" I exclaimed, and for a moment Crow looked down to me, bewilderment in his face.
Then lightning arced into him and he fell as his body convulsed in pain. Sparrow walked up to him and quickly took everything except a sword, throwing most of it but setting me back in my holster. "Not bad, but lets see how you do with a sword." Sparrow grabbed the shocked Crow and began to drag him. She continued to drag him until they reached the gate of Bowerstone, and now even I was not completely sure as to what she planned to do. Then, without warning, she forced Crow up to his feet and pointed to a random guard. "Attack him." She said flatly. Crow merely stared at her for a moment, to which Sparrow pulled me from the holster and shot the guard, tossing me to Crow who stupidly took me in his hands. The guards stared at the hole at his feet for a moment before looking at the two culprits in the direction it had come from. He chose Crow as the shooter, and promptly pulled his sword out, charging at Crow. Crow reactively took the crappy sword from his belt and parried the first blow, yelling, "I thought you said you'd keep me from doing illegal things!" while fighting off the oblivious guard. Sparrow grinned and replied casually. "I said I'd keep you from doing something I'd have to kill you for. Nothing more, nothing less." Crow gave up on rational conversation and fought with the guard, who was quickly joined by three more. After several slices, most of them resulting in both the guard and Crow gaining semi-serious wounds, the fight ended with Sparrow jumping inbetween the two. "I apologize sir, that was my mistake; I accidentally pulled the trigger and in a fit of instanity, threw it to the nice gentleman here." The guard stared, dumbfounded, but after a second of thinking and a small gasp of recognition, he backed off with a sincere apology. "See? Just gotta be the right person…" Sparrow muttered to Crow, before pushing him forward. "Now, off to work!"
Crow turned around. "What?" He asked, his face a mask of confusion. Sparrow cursed under her breath. "You. Go to work. As a blacksmith. Got it? You'll give me half your pay and you better make at the very least two hundred. Over the next three months, I'm going to turn you into my own personal demi-hero. So. Off to work!" She stated with emphasis. I watched, feeling the distance between my owner grow. What had happened to Sparrow? I had never seen her like this, so demanding, ruthless, it was as if she had been possessed! Before Older Sister was killed, she had been upbeat and happy, after she had been steady and sullen for a while before becoming relentless and joyful, but… never anything like this… What was happening to my Sparrow? As Crow quickly ran away, Sparrow suddenly released a flow of emotion, and her face twisted into something I had never seen before. What? What was happening? "Sparrow…?" I whispered, and suddenly her head jerked up. She looked around, before noticing that the bard Roland was nearby. Suddenly, a smirk filled her face, and I began to wonder what she was planning. I watched as Sparrow approached the singing bard, and she suddenly grabbed his arm. "Roland. Right?" She asked, and the frightened man stumbled out his words. "Ah, erm, y-yes." Sparrow regarded him another second, then suddenly kicked him. In a place where even I, as a gun, know hurts extremely bad for males. And it wasn't a light kick, I could tell: Roland stood still, shocked for a moment, before collapsing forward, hands over his precious area. Sparrow smiled warmly at a nearby guard, then grabbed Roland by the back of his shirt and began dragging him.
Soon, we were back at the cottage, and Sparrow set Roland on the bed as she had the old villain Thag. Except Roland was passed out in pain, instead of grievous injuries and burns. Apparantly, either way worked for Sparrow. Quickly, she returned to Bowerstone, where she approached the Blacksmith. There, she could see Crow, who was barely hitting the actual swords, more just the anvil. The Blacksmith himself was attempting to show him how to do it, but he failed. Miserably. Sparrow and I watched Crow for about an hour and a half before he simply picked up the red hot swords and threw it. His hands was glowing bright red, and he immediately started yelling about it, but I saw Sparrow paying more attention to the sword: it was stuck in the wood, perfectly breaking through and striking the stone behind it. Sparrow smirked, before walking inside and kicking Crow directly in the keister as he yelled about his burning hand. "Shut up, I fried your whole body and you were standing!" She yelled, watching the humorous scene of Crow hitting the wall face first while attempting to yell. "Okay. I guess that's enough for today. How much did you make?" Sparrow asked, and Crow mumbled something as he dragged himself up, simultaneously rubbing his hand and his face. "Sorry. Repeat that?" Sparrow asked, cupping her ear with one hand while setting a hand on her hip with the other. "Thirty coins." He mumbled. Sparrow leaned in closer, her face half way turned as she teased him. "One more time?" She asked. "Thirty!" Crow finally announced, fear and anger mixing together in his voice.
Sparrow immediately punched Crow in the face, sending him to the ground in his weak state. She then set her boot on Crow's back, turning it side to side while putting pressure on him, her face and voice filled with rage. "Oi! I said no less than two H's! For this, you're getting none of it!" She yelled, ignoring the looks from the owner of the shop as well as a several passerby. "None of it! Not a stinkin' piece for your grubby little hole, ye' hear?" Crow mumbled "Yes…" and took the pain that came from her pushing her boot into him. I had no idea why they were both so different in personality. When he was Thag, Crow had been brutal and imposing, now he was being beaten and treated like a slave and saying nothing but yes. I had absolutely no idea how there could be such a drastic change in his personality. Finally, after about another minute of pushing him into the dirt with her boot, Sparrow grabbed Crow by the back of his raggety clothes and began to drag him, despite his attempts at walking himself. Finally, Sparrow pressed her face close to Crow's, her eyes gleaming with anger. "You're injured, got that? Injured people get taken away by the pretty little doctor, before they lose their legs. Got that?" Crow nodded hurredly, and for the rest of the journey, Sparrow somehow managed to drag the one hundred and fifty pound man with her. Then, we reached the cabin, where Roland was waiting, and he instinctively held his hand over his pants when he saw Sparrow approach. She ignored him, dragging Crow and dumping him on the floor. "Now. Go to bed, like a good little brat." Crow begrudgingly accepted, muttering curses under his breath which Sparrow thankfully ignored.
She then turned around and left the cabin, looking directly at Roland. "I want you to do something for me." She stated matter-of-factly. Roland nervously inched away as he spoke. "W-what would t-that b-be?" Sparrow stared directly at his face, looking as if she were about to tell him the secret of the universe. "I'm going to turn you into one of my harem." She stated matter-of-factly. It took about five seconds for the word Harem to regain meaning to me. Harem: a group of females involved with a single male. It made no sense to me. Evidently it was the same with Roland. "Huh?" Was all that came from his mouth, and Sparrow nodded, holding her chin up proudly. "I'm in a quest to kill Lucien, and in order to do it I have to find three heroes: Strength, Will, and Skill. That seems far too bothersome, so instead I'm going to train myself a small four-man legion and 'storm the castle', as they say. You're going to be my own pseudo-skill Hero. Now, have you ever used a gun?" Roland balked for about a minute straight, and the plan that Sparrow had formed simply spun in my chambers until it finally clicked and made sense. She planned on doing what was basically a suicide run against Lucien using three people that she trained herself.
That must have been what she was arguing with Theresa about. Roland finally understood and slowly answered her question, with the caution of a rat being stalked by a hawk. "N-no…. I… Haven't?" He stated, the words sounding more question than truth. Sparrow paid no heed, instead grabbing Roland by the arm, pulling out his hand and suddenly thrusting me into his hand. "Alright, I want you to kill some pesky bandits with this." Roland merely stared at her. "W-what?" He asked, and I nearly asked the same. Sparrow rolled her eyes. "I said kill some pesky bandits for me. I already scouted them out, they're in that big old forrest just up that hill, following the road." And with that, Sparrow kicked both Roland and I in the direction she had pointed in. Roland followed her instructions, obviously unsure of what else to do, and I could feel that Sparrow was following us. Eventually, we heard the sound of bandits talking, and Roland experimentally raised me. He aimed me at the first bandit he saw and pulled the trigger. Nothing happened. "Huh? What happened?" roland pulled the trigger once again. "Pull back the hammer, idiot!" I announced, and Roland looked around. "Who said that?" He asked, and I was shocked. "I… did?" I asked, and Roland jerked his head around to look at me. Then something dawned in his eyes and he simply pulled back the hammer.
He fired his first bullet, and the recoil forced me upwards. He spent a good two seconds bringing me back down, and by that time the bandit that had been shot was raging over his now-useless arm, while the others picked up their swords and prepared to rush at Roland. "Pull the hammer, pull the trigger, push the gun, pull the hammer, pull the trigger, push the gun!" I yelled at him, and he quickly, if somewhat amateurishly followed my directions, pulling the hammer, pulling the trigger, and pushing the gun down. It went well, and the first bandit was quickly dead or passed out from the second bullet to his gut, while the other three began their rush. Suddenly, Roland steadied his grip over me, and he fired off another shot that brought down the closest bandit by hitting him in the head. His aim went shaky again, but he fired off another bullet that hit the bandit in the foot, forcing him to yell and jump, bouncing into his friend. Roland took the time to fire again, bringing down the third bandit and scaring the final one, who began to retreat. "Oh no you don't…" Roland muttered to himself, firing off a final shot that brought the final bandit to his knees. Suddenly, Sparrow was there, congratulating roland on his excellent marksmanship and taking me from his grasp, which I now noticed was becoming quite shaky.
"Great job Roland! I knew you had it in you! But… There's one more thing you need to do. Kill that last one." Roland jerked up, looking surprised. "Huh? But, isn't he already dead?" Sparrow shook her head. "Nope. Just bleeding and unconscious. Now, take his sword and finish him off." Roland looked at the man that was about fifteen feet away. He was on his stomach, his head to the side, and you could see his back raising just a little bit every second or so. Roland shakily approached, picking up the sword on the ground. He raised it above his head, looking down at the dying man in front of him. "I'm… I'm…" roland stared at the man on the ground, and then he looked at the others around him. One of them was also still breathing. The other two were dead. They weren't breathing, their eyes were open, their hearts had stopped. Roland looked back to the man beneath him. Then, he suddenly twisted his own arm, turning what would have been a direct stab into a downward arc. The sword went straight through the bandits neck, and there was a sickening sound.
Roland closed his eyes as he did it, and then he moved to the other man that was still breathing. He brought the sword down, ending the bandits life. Then, Roland held the sword directly to his face. He spoke, and his voice was sullen. "Sparrow. Why did I just kill these men?" He asked, and Sparrow looked at him with confused but understanding eyes. "Because they were people, that you ended. You ended their lives, and that has made them give their lives to you. They are yours now, Roland. Your own songs of death." Roland looked down at the dead men beneath him. He saw that they had guns, and he took both of their weapons, as well as their swords. "Sparrow. I am to live with you from now on, right?" Sparrow thought for a moment. "Yes." She answered abruptly, and for a second I saw the little girl that had l;ost her dearest Older Sister, been betrayed by the man she had thought would fulfil all of her dreams, and been left broken, to die in a street. Then the new Sparrow returned, as unpredictable as ever, and she grabbed Roland by the cuff. "Off to our new home, eh?" Sparrow said, not really asking a question. Roland didn't bother to answer. Soon, we were back at the cottage. Sparrow once again unceremoniously kicked Crow off the bed, forcing him into the cot, and pointed at the bed. "Roland, you'll be sleeping here." Roland simply got into the bed, removing everything but his underclothing, before turning to Sparrow. "Where are you going to sleep?" He asked, and Sparrow grinned as a small fire grew in her hand. "On the roof, of course." Roland laughed, then simply went to sleep. Sparrow left the cottage then climbed onto the roof, staring at the stars that were high in the sky. Suddenly, a flash of memory from her ancestor appeared in her and my minds. It was a peaceful one, far different from the one we had experienced earlier.
/Several hundred years ago/
I looked up at the moon, which was shining incredibly bright. I pressed my hand against the fabric beneath me, wondering for the millionth time when the tent was going to simply tear and dump me on the ground. Maybe Twinblade had built it better than it looked. I guess it didn't really matter too much. Twinblade was gone; I had made sure he would never come back to being a bandit. After all, starving a man for two weeks was certainly cruel, but it was simply the old 'True Neutrality' thing. Really couldn't expect any more from me, and I have to admit it was really funny when I let him out. I should have just killed him. But, I didn't. In fact, other than Jack of Blades, I couldn't really remember the last time I had outright killed a human. The Undead? Already dead. Hobbes? Twisted beasts that needed to be put out of their misery. Balvarines? Worse than Hobbes, forced to live in hunger and instinct. Bandits, misguided guards, assassins, random idiots, I always hit them with the back of my blade, or just outright punched them. It wasn't all that difficult, considering I was constantly in this bright, golden armor. Not now though; now, I was in nothing but the old clothes that the Guildmaster had given me. Good old Weaver. At least, I think that was his name? Something with a W, anyway.
I looked down on the ground, from atop the tent that dominated Twinblades old camp. There was Whisper, and her big brother Thunder. Then, I saw others. Briar Rose, Weaver, several heroes I didn't even know. Hell, there were Guards, there were random citizens, traveling merchants, the girl that had lost her little teddy bear Rosie, my sister was even there. I looked down on the huge group, who were all looking up at me with gratitude. Finally, I spoke, in a somewhat exasperated tone. "How long have you all been there?" All of them just looked at me, before Whisper yelled. "Since just a bit ago, farmboy!" I laughed, once again finding her nickname for me funny. I had been known as Chicken Chaser, Sabre, Arrowdodger (though they more just bounced off me), Paladin, Avatar, Ranger, and probably a hundred other things, but the one thing that I could go by forever was probably farmboy. It fit me so much more perfectly; I was a farmboy, the only reason people saw me as anything different was because the world tried to screw me over a million times. I had never dodged a well-shot arrow, never liberated anybody, never been the representation of the people, never become a warrior of good and light. In fact, my final battle with Jack of Blades had only been won because I went directly against that nature; I let myself be corrupted, I used the Will I had to destroy my enemies and force my body beyond it's physical limits.
But, these people. These people that I've grown up with, that I love, that I cherish, these are the ones that know my real name. These are the ones who call me by the title I most deserve. "Hey, farmboy, are you going to sit up there sulking forever, or are we going to have one last match?" Whisper suddenly yelled. My head jerked up, and I realized I had probably been sitting there for several minutes looking spaced out. I grinned and jumped down, approaching Whisper. "So. We're going to have one last match?" I asked, wondering what she had up her sleeve. She smiled coyly, as she always does. "Yes." And suddenly, she tossed her staff to the side. I looked at her in confusion, then saw her face and tossed my own weapons away. She wanted this to be a fight of pure skill. Throughout our lives, every time we fought, she had that staff, I had a sword. Now, there was no staff, there was no sword, there was no armor. There was only us, and our own minds.
She came forward first, fast as lightning, but I dodged to the side and gave her a weak to to the side. She hopped away, and I prepared. She launched forward, slamming into my upraised arms, forcing me backward several inches. My feet dug into the dirt, and I ignored the pain in my arms in favor of launching a counter attack. My fist hit her in the left cheek, and she went back a few yards. "Not bad, farmboy." She said, her voice the exact same as it had been the first time we sparred. I charged forward, a confident grin on my face, but she suddenly vaulted over me. Okay, I had planned for this. I ducked her incoming roundhouse kick and gave my own sweeping kick, knocking her to the ground. Then, I rushed forward and grabbed her throat, signifying I had won. Once again. "Good fight, farmboy." Whisper said, using my arm to lift herself up. I looked at the circle around us, consisting of all my friends and family. "Come on. Let's go home. We won't be complete until we say goodbye." I said, and we each went to the Guild. Together.
We entered the demondoor where I had buried my mother, and we surrounded her, just beside the river. There were already a hundred flowers on her grave, but we just pushed them aside. And then, we set the best gift we could think of on her grave. I took Avo's Tear, the sword that was almost an exact replica of the Sword of Aeons, and I held it. Then, I took the mask that I had stolen from Jack, the mask of the Queen of Blades, and I set it on the ground, directly above where my mothers' heart is. Then, every one of us, we each took hold of the sword, and we thrust it downwards with the strength of a thousand men. Will and Strength and Skill and the simple power of the mundane combined, all converging together to break through the mask. And so, the grave of Scarlett Rose, the mother of the Hero of Oakvale, the ancestor of the Hero of Bowerstone, the ancestor of the Ruler of Albion, and the very descendant of the great Archon William Black, was finally buried, her soul sleeping in peace with the destruction of Jack of Blades, her body honoured by the friends and family of the great man who was simply unlucky.
/Few hundred years later/
Sparrow grinned, bemused at the vision. Maybe this was the source of the change, the vision, which depicted the life of the greatest hero to ever live. I didn't know. All I knew was that she was happy, at the very least, and that her happiness was good enough for me. Soon enough, Sparrow lit the fire again, somehow getting it to sit floating above the roof until it burned out. She laid her head down, using a pillow she had brought from the bed to give herself comfort. "Good night." I said, curious to see if she would hear me. "Good night." She said right back. And so, we both went to sleep. Crow, the man who used to be the monstrous bandit leader Thag, and Roland, the worthless Bard that was quickly changing to something far different, beneath us. It was funny how things could turn out, with just a few changes.