A Proper Farewell

Hello everyone and welcome to the latest chapter of A New Crusade! As before I'd like to thank Noble Eight for the request of this story and you, my fellow readers, for your votes and input which helped bring it all together. Now to answer a few guest review questions: To the first guest, I censored words at the time because I thought it was funny, but, after numerous requests from readers to stop, I no longer censor my current works and chapters. and to aalmarashi9: While it would fit the idea of Ulric being a righteous Crusader, it would probably also be redundant as the Witch's cult keeps coming after Emilia anyway. So he'd be just as likely to encounter them staying where he is than if he went to hunt them down. Now then, with those questions answered, we can get on to the story!

1187: The Holy Land

It felt like a dream, or rather, a nightmare. Rage, blood, fire and death surrounded him on all sides as he took in the familiar sight of war. 'How can this be?' He thought, 'did I fall asleep in the middle of battle? But if that's the case, I should be dead.' The sound of a shouting warrior advancing towards him with their curved blade held over their head broke the knight from his stupefied state as he moved out of the way of the first strike then parried the next before bashing the back-end of his weapon's handle into his opponent's chin, causing them to stumble back a few feet.

"Tell me, where in the Holy Land am I?" Questioned the knight as he pointed his blade at the Turk. He honestly didn't know why he felt the need to ask that question, but there was too much going on that wasn't making sense. The answer to his inquiry was for the Turk to come charging at him again with another couple of slashes which Ulric again parried before sidestepping a downward stroke and slashing his opponent in the throat, causing him to fall over as his hands desperately tried to stop the bleeding.

Had this been just the two of them, Ulric might've attempted to help him staunch the bleeding so that he could get answers, but this was a full blown battlefield. There was hardly enough time to think let alone interrogate someone, a fact which quickly made itself known as another enemy soldier charged at him with a sword and shield. The knight parried the first attack before countering with a horizontal blow which his opponent blocked with their shield before using a diagonal strike which Ulric avoided by backing up slightly before moving back in with an upward diagonal strike which forced his adversary back as he barely had enough time to block it with his shield. Ulric pressed his attack with a few more swings before his enemy sidestepped a vertical strike and attempted to counter with an overhead strike his own.

But Ulric was just a bit faster as he readjusted in mid-swing and brought his sword upwards. The blade of his weapon managed to hit his opponent right at the joint of his armor, slicing his whole arm off in a feat even the knight himself hadn't expected. But now wasn't the time to be impressed with himself as his enemy, now panicking at the loss of his limb, threw down his shield and pulled out the dagger at his waist. No sooner did he get within striking distance than Ulric swung and took his head off. 'Was I really this skilled before,' thought the knight as he pushed on into the fray, cutting and slashing at any enemy unwise enough to approach him, 'something about this sword technique feels different, like I learned a few more tricks recently.'

And had he the time he'd continue to ponder where his newfound bladework came from. As it was, however, there was a battle to be won. And so he pushed forward with his fellow Crusaders, slashing an enemy here, decapitating a charging Turk there, burying his blade in the heart of a spearman who got too close, lobbing off limbs on the luckier opponents and even stomping down on a couple of enemies who tried slashing at his legs. All the while, arrows, stones, spears and all manner of other projectiles clanged against or stuck into his chainmail as the battle pushed onward into the fortress they'd surrounded. Inside the walls it quickly became as much of a blood bath outside as more and more Turks and Crusaders lost their lives in the frenzy.

Ulric himself had no idea how long the battle lasted, but when the number of fighting Turks seemed to be decreasing, a sudden shout stopped them. "My glorious Crusaders!" Shouted the voice of a general that Ulric knew, "it is still ours! Jerusalem still belongs to the followers of Almighty God!" Even Ulric raised a cheer at the declaration, happy that the battle had come to an end and the result being a victory for all of them.

The Next Day: Jerusalem

If there's one thing that might be said to be more difficult than the battle itself, it's cleaning up after it. Knight or no, Ulric still helped pick up the bodies of his comrades and cart them off to a burial site while also removing the corpses of the enemy to be disposed of in a somewhat respectful fashion. Even under ordinary circumstances he wouldn't complain about the work out loud, but this was one of the few times he was actually glad to be doing some of the grunt work as it gave him time to finally sort out his thoughts. 'Something seems off,' he said to himself, 'I feel as if I've done all of this before, but in a slightly different way.'

A sudden rush of images assaulted him then as he saw himself on the wall of Jerusalem at night, looking upon countless torches outside of the city that marked the enemy. Then battle after battle in defense of the city occurred until finally, he saw himself falling or rather forcing himself and an adversary off the wall. With these images came a sudden, agonizing pain in his head as he put a hand to it and nearly stumbled. "Sir Ulric," said a familiar voice, snapping him out of his thoughts, "Is everything alright?"

"Ah, Sir Rodrick," replied Ulric as he shook his head a bit to clear it, "I'm amazed you're still alive after such a fierce battle."

"Ha," said Rodrick as he reached up and scratched his mustache, "I might not have a youthful spring in my step anymore, but I can still swing my sword with the best of them."

"As you've said many times before," remarked Ulric while he was in the process of setting his load down at the specified location, "and has news of our victory spread?"

"I was actually over here to tell you about that," said Rodrick, "they've sent numerous messengers out, proclaiming the good news far and wide, even back in your hometown. Your Father will no doubt be proud to hear of your fine service to the Church."

"We've all done our part in service to God these last several days," said Ulric, "I imagine there will be many happy fathers upon hearing the ne-." Another spike of pain racked his head as he grasped it with his hand. Much like the first time, images came flooding in. But this time they were of very unfamiliar things. A white-haired girl with pointed ears, a little blond thief and a red-haired knight, a clown man and a child wielding some sort of strange power over the elements, multiple women of high status in a throne room, and a blue-haired girl uttering a single name, 'Ulric'.

"Sir Ulric," said Rodrick as he hit his comrade on the shoulder, "are you unwell? What seems to be troubling you?"

"I," the Knight tried to think of a plausible explanation, "I'm not sure. It's possible the battle fatigued me more than I thought. I'm starting to see things."

"Are you now," said Rodrick with a curious raise of his eyebrow, "well go try and get some rest then and see if it clears up after a while. If it doesn't, well, we'll cross that bridge when it arrives."

"Just don't let the doctor put a needle in my head if it really comes to that," said Ulric with a sigh as he went to retire for a while.

A Few Days Later

Whatever the problem was, fatigue was not the main issue. Even managing to get a full night's rest in what must've been a very long time, Ulric was still getting images in his head he didn't know but somehow felt like he should recognize. What was more, the little blue-haired beauty dressed like a maid knew his name, and while he was certain he'd remember seeing such a cute face he could not for the life of him figure out her name. It would've been enough to make the knight think he was going crazy if not for the fact that he was in the middle of a war.

In recent days they'd gotten reports of numerous troops gathering and mobilizing from the far reaches of the land. The likelihood was that they were coming here and they were led by a Kurdish man who went by the name of Saladin. It seemed merely taking the city of Jerusalem and holding it for so long was not enough to convince the heretics who the true keepers of the Holy Land were. Now they would have to fight yet again to keep it. And it was to that task that Ulric had set himself as he spent whatever free time he had training, helping to fix up battlements, aiding in repairing the damaged gate and wall, really anything that might help keep the odds in their favor when an inevitable siege began.

He'd also been praying when he could, asking the Lord for strength to continue fighting and to banish the pain from his head. And the Lord answered in much the same way he always did, through the most unexpected means. It happened when he was walking by the entrance to one of the defense towers when the door was suddenly flung open and a man came out with a low battle cry swinging a wooden sword. Even despite his less than ideal mental state, Ulric's reflexes were more than enough for him to draw his sword and block the oncoming strike as he held fast against his attacker, who then removed his weapon and started chuckling.

"Well it's good to see that your sword skills are still up to the task," said an older man bearing a striking resemblance to Ulric, save for the beard upon his face.

"You're lucky you stayed out of striking distance, Father," said Ulric while sheathing his sword, "you do realize I could've gutted you on reflex alone after going through so many battles recently?"

"Don't take your old man so lightly," said his Father as he clapped a hand on his shoulder, "I might not be capable of going into battle anymore, but I'm not just gonna fall over at the slightest breeze either."

"As you've said before," replied Ulric before smiling and embracing his Father, "It's good to see you. How'd you manage to make it all the way out here?"

"Your Mother and I volunteered to help out with the latest caravan of supplies," replied his Father as he pointed at the main gate where a group of wagons was currently entering from, "we can't stay for too long, I'm afraid, as the land needs tending too back home. But just being able to walk along with you here in the Holy City itself, I honestly have no words to express how proud of you I am."

"All for the Lord," said Ulric as more images suddenly struck his mind: numerous ravenous dogs with bony spikes and jaws that made them look like demons, a cult wearing purple masks and robes, their insane and very pale leader raving about a witch, and Ulric himself with that same blue-haired girl leading a charge against a flying whale of all things.

"Ah, I suppose this is what Sir Rodrick was referring too when he said you seemed tired," noted his Father, "It'd probably be best if we sat down somewhere."

"By the next defensive tower," said Ulric, "there's a spot covered with supplies right now that makes it very secluded. We can talk there." His Father nodded in understanding as the young knight and retired knight ventured over to the designated spot. Thanks to the way the wall was shaped and how the supplies were stacked, there had been something of a gap between them and the wall, which Ulric and his Father used to slide through before taking a seat on some of the bundles.

"So my son, what seems to be troubling you?" Asked his Father in a tone that was more amused than worried, "Is it possible you've found a woman all the way out here?"

"I can most certainly answer that question," said Ulric, "but first I need you to answer a question for me, Father, a rather serious question." His tone made it obvious that he wasn't trying to make a joke and the playful look on his Father's face almost instantly morphed into a stern one.

"What is it that troubles you Ulric," asked his Father, "I can see that this is no simple matter you're wrestling with."

"To put it simply," said Ulric, "when I was knighted, it was one of the most incredible feelings of my life. I was inducted into an order of warriors who were supposed to uphold truth, justice, honor, valor, chivalry and kindness. I believed that only villains would ever fall by my blade and that the world would become safer with the dispatching of each one. When I heard about the call to begin another Crusade, I jumped at the chance. But now I find myself asking you, Father. Why didn't you warn me?"

"Warn you?" Repeated the retired knight, not exactly sure what was being asked of him.

"About the horror that is war," said Ulric somewhat darkly, "about the pain and anguish that comes with taking life after life in every battle. Why didn't you warn me about how slim my chances of actually surviving might be, about how to deal with the fact that I was still alive while so many others around me died? Why didn't you tell me that some of the enemies I'd be killing were good and honorable people themselves? And most of all, why didn't you warn me that out here on a battlefield like this, one can be condemned to death merely for the crime of believing differently?"

His Father waited to ensure that he'd finished speaking before taking a deep breath and leaning back a bit. It was rare for Ulric to see him looking tired, and what was more, he looked even more weary than usual. "A number of reasons I suppose," he finally said, "much of it tied to tradition. I trained you to be a knight as my father trained me and his father before him. But trying to explain the horror of what you'd be stepping into, was difficult."

"How so," questioned Ulric, losing some of the edge to his voice as his curiosity overtook him.

"As a bright-eyed youth, I doubt you'd have been dissuaded," explained his Father, "had I told you everything about my time as a soldier and knight, you likely would've said that you'd be careful to avoid the same pitfalls that I encountered. What was more, bringing up some of those memories was like reopening an old wound. They still hurt even after all this time. Then there was the Church and the rest of the community. How would it look if everyone else sent off a member of their family in service to God while I kept you at home? Our faith and even our very place would've been doubted within society. But the biggest reason of all, was that had I tried to hold you back at the time, you'd have hated me for it and found a way to go regardless of my approval."

"I," Ulric tried to find the right words to express his feelings on the matter, "I guess when I look back on it, you're right. You always told me to be careful and to think rationally in the face of combat, even if it meant the possibility of disobeying orders. You said preserving my life and the lives of others is what would help most to win a campaign. In order to accomplish that, I trained and studied and worked myself to the bone to become the best knight I could. Had you held me back from doing what I believed was my duty at the time, it would've become one of the few instances since becoming a knight that I'd disobeyed you."

"Despite that, it still broke me and my Mother's heart more than a little to see you go," said his Father, "we've prayed everyday for your safety and we'll continue to pray as long as this campaign goes on for. And God in his willingness, may one day bring you back home."

"But God has already willed that I be somewhere else," said Ulric with a bit of a distant look in his eyes, gaining a questioning glance from his Father, "I'm sorry Father, but I won't be coming home from Jerusalem."

"What are you trying to say son?" Questioned his Father, "You more or less just told me that this war has been nothing short of a burden on you. Are you saying you plan on staying in Jerusalem for the rest of your life?"

"Not quite," replied Ulric, "You see, the reason my head's been bothering me lately is because of numerous images of a land unlike any that has ever been seen by any of us. At first, I thought they were visions, but I knew that wasn't right. The reason I knew was because the strange images in my mind, were memories, one of which being the time I was sent to that kingdom by dying. You see, Jerusalem is where I'm going to meet my end in this land."

"You've seen your….end…here," said his Father as he tried to process what he was hearing, "you think the Lord has shown you a vision of death?"

"It will not be a true death like the one we Crusaders long for in battle," said Ulric, "the place I shall be sent will be neither Heaven nor Hell or even purgatory. Rather, the Lord has seen fit to allow a witch to spirit me away and work her magics on me. I shall be cursed in a land whose ways and customs are unfamiliar to me and taste suffering in a number of familiar and new forms. But even knowing that, I would still wish to go there."

"I'm afraid I'm at something of a loss, my boy," said his Father, "you'll die but you won't be sent into the afterlife? Instead you'll be sent somewhere else entirely while still remaining alive?"

"It's difficult to explain, or even believe," said Ulric, "I still have a hard time believing it myself and I've seen it all with my own eyes. It is to the Kingdom of Lugnica that I shall be sent, a mystical place where fairy tale creatures and people walk about in broad daylight, all coming in shapes and sizes we've only ever seen in our dreams. It is also a place of nightmares, where some of the foulest beasts and sick, twisted individuals with unnatural powers lurk and try to turn the unwary innocents into their victims. Even some of the more harmless looking individuals can turn out to be capable of ripping a grown man asunder."

"You're right when you say this world isn't Heaven," said his Father, "but what makes you so sure it isn't hell either?"

"Because love does not exist in hell," said Ulric as he turned to his Father, "you asked me earlier if I'd found a woman. Indeed I have, and she resides in this land I speak of known as Lugnica. She's but a year younger than me, with a petite frame, delicate features, eyes that sparkle like diamonds when she's happy, and short blue hair of all things."

"Blue hair?" Said his Father in a questioning tone, "this certainly is a unique land you speak of."

"Most assuredly," said Ulric, "this girl is a maid who can brew exquisite tea one minute and then smash open one's head with a chained flail the next. She commands incredible strength and a mystical power over some forms of water and ice. Be it simply standing in the sun or tearing through the enemies of her master, she is a beauty to behold. And I need to return to her side soon."

Whatever reaction Ulric was expecting from his Father, suddenly bursting into laughter was not one of them. He laughed hard enough that he had to clutch his sides before wiping a few tears from his eyes. "So it has finally happened, my young knight has found himself a maiden! Blessed be the name of the Lord!"

"You make it sound like a miracle that I fell in love with someone," said Ulric.

"Ah, but it is a miracle," said his Father with a sudden sigh, "I thank God every day for meeting your Mother. She and eventually you gave me another reason to keep on fighting through battle after battle, and when the moment came that I was too injured to fight properly and was sent home, I thanked God that night for allowing me to see my family once again. But now here I sit, about to say goodbye to my boy once again."

"Father, you know I-," Ulric started to say before the man silenced him with an upraised hand.

"What I know is where your heart lies, Ulric," he said, "to hear you speak so passionately about a woman, I'm certain that she was able to make you happy in those memories. So, if that is what your heart truly wants, if you believe she is where your new path shall lead, then I will not stop you. You may regret your choice in joining the Crusades but if this girl truly loves you back, then I doubt you will regret returning to her side."

"I suppose that's true, however," said Ulric as he stood up, "when I really think on the matter, I find it harder and harder to regret joining the Crusades."

"Oh," said his Father as he too stood up, "and why, after voicing your misgivings, have you suddenly changed your mind?"

"I would not say I changed my mind," said Ulric, "I still have nightmares about some of the battles, still see some of the pained faces of the lives I was forced to take or took when ordered. My hands are stained with blood that I can only pray God in his mercy will wash away. But it is written: '…let us also glory in our sufferings, because we know that suffering produces perseverance; 4 perseverance, character; and character, hope. 5 And hope does not put us to shame, because God's love has been poured out into our hearts through the Holy Spirit, who has been given to us."

"Romans 5, verses 3 through 5," said his Father, "one of my favored verses after I was injured. I see it has seen you through some difficult times as well."

"I simply realized that despite the horror that's been this war, it was also only because I was in it that I was even the slightest bit prepared for the kingdom of Lugnica," said Ulric, "and my trials there have served to push me to become even better. I am still a knight there and when necessary I shall be a Crusader. My one regret, is that I have to leave you and Mother behind to go there."

"But it is where you are needed most," said a sudden female voice as his blond-haired Mother came walking into view, "while I've always dreaded it, the day was always going to come that you'd have to leave us and go out into the world."

"I should've known it wouldn't take you long to find us, Mother," said Ulric, "how long have you been listening?" His Mother didn't answer right away, but instead pulled him into a hug with her head resting on his shoulder.

"Long enough to know that our boy is no longer just a boy," she said, "by the sound of it, this new land has done much for you, including granting happiness. Your Father and I shall both miss you terribly, but it'd be even more selfish of us to try holding you back. So, we'll both be praying for your safe travels."

"T-Thank you Mother, Father," said Ulric as his Father embraced him as well. The three of them stood there for a few moments before the knight finally broke down, resting his head on his parent's shoulders as he wept. "I'm, so sorry I can't make it back right now, and I hate that I have to leave you both again!"

"Shh, it's alright Ulric," consoled his Mother as she gently stroked his hair, "we both know you've done your absolute best. You've fought hard and tried to do the right thing when you could. However big or small your accomplishments, know that we will always be proud of you."

"I won't forget that, or either of you," said Ulric as he managed to wipe his eyes, "it's thanks to you and thanks to God that I've managed to survive for so long. Now, I'd best be going."

"Go on then," said his Father as he clapped his hand on his shoulder, "and give that maiden a kiss for your dear old Dad as well."

"I will," said Ulric as he embraced his parents one final time before turning around and walking away. He spared one last glance at the two of them before they were out of sight. He didn't look back again as he walked towards the door of another one of the towers that led up to the wall and pushed it open. He ascended the stairs in an unhurried pace as memories of where he was going flashed through his mind.

When he finally arrived at the wooden door, he grasped the handle and took a deep breath to steel his nerves. Then, with but a moment's hesitation, he pushed it open and looked out at the wall that he'd patrolled numerous times both day and night. But what made this particular section of the wall special, was his memory of it. This was where he had experienced his first death.

"Oh," said a familiar voice as Echidna turned her gaze away from the view to look at him. Unlike last time, she was clothed in a black and gold dress similar to what was worn by Turkish women, "you're earlier than I expected. Tell me, after confronting your past, what did you learn?"

And thus ends the first trial as Ulric finally gets the chance to say his goodbyes. It turned out to be a shorter chapter than I expected, but hopefully you all still enjoyed it. As always, feel free to leave a comment or review about what you liked/disliked or if you've got any neat ideas for future chapters. Be sure to stop in next time as Ulric learns about a few not so pleasant secrets floating around the Sanctuary. 'Til then.