CHAPTER SIX: Wing Damage
German Battlefields
We had arrived in Germany earlier than I had expected, even with being on foot a small portion of the way due to a trinity of outlaws shooting our steeds. If not for my hurry to get to our destination, Auguste and Jacqueline would have darted off to punish the criminals for what they had done. My persistency is much larger than theirs.
The battlefields are a gruesome place. Never before in my life had I seen men on their knees, weeping, begging, for mercy. Their murderous screams kept echoing in my head, and I was so distracted by this that I could not even look at what the German army was targeting at or fighting against, though it did seem like the entire German force was opposed to one thing in particular, but such a thought is ridiculous.
The three of us decided to start searching for my father in the main stronghold, which was a large castle-looking structure with reinforcements lined together in the corridor of the entrance, ready to defend their country. As I scanned the ready soldiers I could not find Feidhelm's face, and I began to panic, yet I kept reassuring myself. He's out fighting… he's out fighting… I thought, but still the cold sweat of doubt slid down my neck. I shook it off.
We then turned to glance in the medical room, and if I had been mortified by the war itself then this was far worse. I couldn't bear to see the sight of men being shrouded behind a white curtain, doctors surrounding them while they were being bled. They screamed and struggled in protest, as the pearl sheet grew crimson. I grimaced and turned my head away from the infirmary, shivering. I urged to move on through the stronghold.
"Marienbard, he's not here," Auguste whispered, but I shook my head until my vision grew blurry and clenched my fists tightly. I could not believe any doubts.
"No! He's here. We just aren't looking hard enough! I can feel it!" On my last word my voice wavered and cracked, as if even my feelings knew that our efforts were futile. Auguste only sighed, shrugging slightly, and then took his gaze to the window that was portrayed in the corridor. He strode over to it, looking at the war with an iron gaze.
"This… this is…" he muttered after long moments of silence.
"Insanity?" Jacqueline surprisingly chimed in, her expression grim; mixed with a look that she had experienced the dreadful art of war, or, even worse, was holding a dark, horrific secret. I swallowed and fidgeted at her unnerving air.
"Y-yes," he replied, speaking as though his mouth was agape. "B-but I was going to say something more like horrid."
She snorted, and such an action gave me chills, as even I knew that Jacqueline would not be joking at this time, so for its purpose I was grotesquely curious. "Horrid – ha. That's just a small aspect to describe it. To be honest, 'horrid' doesn't really complete the title that well."
"Jacqueline, what on earth are you talking about?"
"It's not war you see out there," she almost interrupted Auguste and her smirk faded so she only bore a scowl. "It's massacre." She paused, recollecting her anger. "The… Azure Knight—"
Before she could finish, Jacqueline gasped, her eyes falling on the large window that was next to us and uttered out to run. She was not in time though, for the window exploded into a monsoon of razor sharp glass. The impact threw all three of us off our feet, and flying against the opposite wall. I felt dizzy, ringing erupted in my ears, and my body ached from when it hit the ground so hard – yet the three of us stumbled up, urging to the next corridor, since we were now vulnerable to the harmful war. In the midst of all the calamity and chaos of escape, I dropped my scythe, and instantly my world froze – as I did in my tracks. I let out some kind of scream and dove back for it; I didn't even bother to pay heed to Auguste yelling at me.
As my hand curled over the weapon's long handle my lips formed into a smile, yet before I could let out even a breath of accomplishment the floor below me collapsed. I immediately heard Auguste and Jacqueline skitter after me, they falling in also. If I had known better, I would have thought that I had fallen into the very depths of Hell, yet when I felt the ground bellow me I was reassured. Auguste and Jacqueline fell in a short time after, causing dirt to sprinkle about.
The hole in which we fell in seemed to be a tunnel, and it was spaced enough so that all three of us could stand. Along the sides of the passageway were torches, and keeping up the structure of it the walls were long wooden beams. "What is this, some kind of mine?" Auguste grunted, his voice hoarse.
"It reminds me of your hideout," I said, my gaze still fixed on the tunnel. "Only larger and a bit more…beckoning."
"Well, we ought to investigate, no?" Jacqueline reached for a torch that was sitting in a holder against the wall, and I gasped as harmless specs of dirt fell from the ceiling.
"Be careful…!" I whispered.
"Stop being such a worry-wart," Jacqueline held the flambeau out in front of her and motioned for us to follow. I shot an unsure glance to Auguste, and he just shrugged and shook his head, as if to say "there's no stopping her."
Before we could move even a few feet, I heard at the end of the passage shuffling, and a sound like a stone dropping echoed. Auguste thrust his arm out for us to all freeze, and we heard the movement again. Jacqueline began to raise her torch, but I grabbed her arm and shook my head, forcing her to ease it down. "Who goes?" A voice of a man called, and I stumbled in my thoughts. The voice sounded vaguely familiar…
"That voice… I know that voice…" I muttered, and Auguste put a finger to his lips. I didn't pay attention to him, as my thoughts were scattered around on who that man was.
"State your name!" The gears in my head were beginning to turn, and as he was about to bellow out once more, it came to me.
"Edwyn!" I yelled, and Auguste hissed for me to be quiet.
"B-bless my soul. Aislin, is that you?" Edwyn replied his voice warmer and how I remembered it to be.
"No, it is her daughter, Marienbard." I laughed, a tear erupting in the corner of my eye. Edwyn was my father's best mate, and his co-worker. When Feidhelm would harvest our barley, he would give it to Edwyn, and from there it would be shipped to other countries. My family didn't get to see him much since he was always travelling. I believe the last time we had spoken was a year before my father was sent away – and how we had met here; thank the heavens.
"Marienbard… my dear, come, come; you must get away from there – it is better over here."
I did as he said without hesitation or complaint, beaming from ear to ear. I noticed that Auguste and Jacqueline were following me rather cautiously, and I threw a jokingly glance at them. When I turned I faced Edwyn, and he had changed drastically from the last time I had seen him; his once jet black hair had a few streaks of silver in it, and was tied back recklessly – it looked like he hadn't shaved in weeks. Around his forehead were bandages splashed with crimson, along with his mercenary uniform that had been before Prussian blue. He held his side where a blade had stabbed him.
My smile faded – he looked so defeated. "You look…awful," I uttered.
"And yet you look beautiful." He put a hand to my face; his finger barely brushing against were a shard of glass had cut me. I was sure that I wasn't really all that stunning, for the clothes Amelie had made me were evidently worn and dirty – but I still smiled. Edwyn glanced over me. "You have picked up some friends along the way?"
I turned. "Yes, this is Auguste and Jacqueline. I met them in France."
He nodded to them, waved his hand for us to follow, and we began to head down the tunnel. "Watch your head, some of these beams have given up; like the rest of us."
Like the rest of us? I thought, yet when we entered a room at the end of the passage my pondering was answered. There were five men; a man with butterscotch-colored hair was sitting on a barrel with his leg propped up against another crate, a burly man sat on another box against a wall, his arms folded across his chest, a third man with a thin mustache was sitting in a wooden chair, his arm cradled in a bandage that was wrapped around his neck, the fourth man lying in the back of the room, his eyes closed, and I could not tell if he was breathing or not, and the last man was curled up and reciting the rosary.
The man with the leg injury frowned. "That's what the racket was?" He cursed. "Tch. I was hoping it was a rodent, then maybe we wouldn't be filling on these bloody grains anymore."
"Calm yourself, Tryg." Edwyn sighed. "This is Feidhelm's daughter, and her friends."
Tryg suddenly grew solemn and nodded his head, commencing to mutter in a different language that I guessed was Czech.
"What is this place?" Jacqueline blurted out in her high-pitched voice.
"Hell," Tryg muttered, snorting. Edwyn spoke over him.
"It's our base. We've forfeited from the war." He sighed. "It was just too brutal…"
"Well then why don't you just go to the medical room?" I could tell Jacqueline was becoming irritated by how quickly she retorted to his statement. "Maybe this wouldn't be so bad if you all just stuck it up and marched to the infirmary!"
The burly man's eye twitched, but the man with the arm cast spoke up in a British accent. "The doctors don't pay heed to the foreign mercenaries. All they want to focus on are the main German ones. We're just here so we can stall the enemy while they are recovering."
"We would have been left to die if we hadn't gotten up ourselves!" Tryg shouted, his cheeks growing pink. "You do not know what it is like, to be lying dormant on the battlefield, begging for help, as your fellow allies save the German next to you instead." The burly man coughed.
"Do not make an uproar," the man muttered with a strong Scandinavian accent. Tryg took a small inhale then closed his eyes.
"Anyway, Marienbard… why are you here?" Edwyn said, putting a hand on my shoulder then moving some crates for the three of us to sit down on them. My body relaxed as I sat down.
"I came to find my father," I replied, my voice unwavering. "I'm going to bring him back to Ireland."
"Are Catriona and Norienne here as well?" He asked again, his face growing grim.
"No." I said, feeling a bit of guilt.
"You left them in Ireland?"
"Y-Yes…" I took a deep breath. "Catriona was tormenting me. I couldn't take it."
Edwyn nodded. "Marienbard, I need you to tell me from the beginning – everything that has happened, from when Feidhelm left."
I closed my eyes. It was time to let it all out; to confess to Edwyn, to sum it up for Auguste… I opened my eyes, and began my story.
"When my father was preparing to leave, everyone was in tears; my mother, Norienne, Catriona… except for me. Yes, I did grieve for him, but not a single tear was shed. After a few moments of their melodrama, my mother and my sisters went inside, leaving me alone with my father. He tried to give me strong words of optimism, but I kept asking him why he had to go. It pained me as he wouldn't answer that question, but soon it came time for his departure. I stood outside until I could no longer see him.
"I ran into our house, and Catriona began scolding me for not crying at Father's leave. I ignored her and ran into our barley fields, attempting to relax. When I came back into our cottage Norienne told me that something was wrong with my mother. I already knew she was weak, but I hadn't expected her to be sprawled out on the floor screaming his name. I tried to convince Mother that Father would return, but her bellows were over my words. Catriona again scolded me for even trying, saying that whatever I do makes it worse, and then I just exploded.
"I couldn't have any more of her torment, my mother's weakness, and my father's absence. So to settle it all, I went into our barn and fetched this scythe so I could defend myself from any dangers along the way. I had managed to walk to the seaside, which really wasn't as far away as I thought, and soon found a harbor. I had a good stow-away technique of climbing into crates and covering myself, so I went unseen. I had tried several different ships, but I could not find a direct one to Germany. I suppose I was a bit naïve to think that.
"I was eventually spotted on a ship that landed in Rouen, France, but luckily the man couldn't catch me for punishment. To catch my breath I decided to settle in an alley, and soon my hunger began to have a large effect on me. Lucky for me, I was not alone in that alley – it was then I met Auguste, and he supplied me with food and shelter. He's taught me many things; and for that I am grateful. His hideout was something very similar to this, and one day he was kind enough as to provide me with nice clothes. We went to a seamstress' shop and got me tailored. Her name was Amelie.
"Amelie wanted to protect us. She was very kind, and like my ideal mother. She provided us with better shelter and food supply, more than just theft from a bakery. She taught me how to sew, and from time to time I would assist her needlework. I've learned though that tranquility does not last forever. As Auguste and I were strolling down a common Rouen street after delivering something for Amelie, we spotted a man by the name of Sorel. Apparently he had done something vitally wrong and was being chased down for it. I am still unsure of what it is entirely, but I knew it would cause Auguste, Amelie and I chaos.
"Amelie had warned us of the soldiers, and how we should watch how we acted in public. Soon it would be put into effect, her words, for one day Auguste and I had returned from an afternoon of venturing and we headed to the workshop's second floor to rest. While we were up there, soldiers entered the shop and declared that they had suspected the Sorel gentleman to be hiding there. When Amelie tried to tell them the truth they just shot her and began searching the workshop for him. Auguste and I knew that we had to leave, so we crashed out the window. The soldiers were immediately at our feet, and we managed escape in Auguste's hideout. I had discovered that there were tunnels connecting to Auguste's home; we crawled to the outskirts of Rouen and started our travel afoot to out of the country.
"I won't mean to drag on about our travels, for nothing happened to affecting happened then except for when we met Jacqueline at a horse stable. Have I… thoroughly explained myself, Edwyn?"
He looked somber, with his hands folded and covering his mouth. His eyes were closed. I began to wonder why he looked so regretful, and as I glanced around I saw the same look painted across the other men's faces. Evidently something must have struck them that had not to me.
"Marienbard… Oh, Marienbard," Edwyn moaned, rubbing his face in his hands. "I should do a little explaining myself." I held my breath. After reciting my entire life to get some answers, I would finally be favored. When my lungs started functioning again, my breath was steady, yet my body was tingling with anxiety. It was time.
"Auguste or Jacqueline, though I doubt it, may have heard of this." Edwyn seemed hesitant, but my eyes plead for him to continue. "There is an entity called the Azure Knight…" The men in the room twitched – even my two friends – and it left me feeling excluded. My trepidation grew immensely.
"He is a horrid creature; taking the shape of a deformed human clad in blue armor. You can undoubtedly recognize him, for his left arm is that of a monstrous demon. His doings are no less; performing countless massacres… He has murdered too many people, Marienbard, but no one can stop him. Not as long as he is holding a power known as Soul Edge."
Jacqueline screamed and fell backwards off her seat, clutching her ruby hair tightly. I started up to help her, but Edwyn held my arm and pointed to Jacqueline as she was about to speak. "It got inside my head once…" she whispered, tears streaming down her cheeks. "It tried to make me kill my brothers… I had my hands around one of their necks… His face was growing violet, and his eyes were bloodshot – it was just moments before he was dead…! He was armed though, and made a stroke of the knife to my face. Once that happened, all the gruesome thoughts were out of my head and I was in tears next to him. Because of me… he's been mute for the rest of his life… Because of that cursed sword!"
She began to sob again, and Auguste went to soothe her. I slowly sat back down and turned my gaze to Edwyn, my mouth slightly open and wondering if I should tell him to resume or not. He did, though.
"Soul Edge is a sword of demonic powers. Once, long ago, it was a weapon of justice – yet after countless ages of brutality it was bathed into bloodshed and smithed into an evil object. Most men who touch it go insane, hurting their loved ones. As soon as you have your hand wrapped around that blade's hilt, it will devour your soul. Like I said, most lose their sanity just by stepping near it, yet even if you are just a bit stronger than that it will turn you into a nightmare. Some are forced into slavery by the sword, and from there are cursed to feed it innocent souls forever. Its wielder, the Azure Knight, is a monster created by Soul Edge. He does its bidding gleefully and depends on the sword to survive.
"As you may have guessed, the German army is fighting against the Azure Knight. It is such a futile effort…The losses are great – thousands and thousands of lives, just giving Soul Edge its nourishment. The war is probably over by now, considering the damage he has already done." Edwyn looked up. "Marienbard…your father was a valiant man, and he did everything he could to help us." My lips began to tremble, and my hands were so built with anxiety I could not cease them from vibrating. "I watched it with my own eyes… He ran up to the Azure Knight with his sword, yet when the demon turned around…" Edwyn breathed in deeply.
"Marienbard… your father is… dead."