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Archives: Lost Humanity

Chapter 4: Road to Moss

    Al kept his horse at an even pace. They were traveling with people on foot, which hampered the travel speed. Judging by their current position, heading through forest on the road, there was a small percentage of an encounter with either brigands or goblins. Most wild animals wouldn’t venture too close to the road for fear of human retaliation, also the smell of steel and the two wolves trailing would make the animals a little more hesitant to venture closer for an inspection. Al and Zylanthian were in the lead, and Elainne and Mieijha were rear guard. This was one of the lessons that Elainne had to learn. She had to learn that guarding was just as important as fighting, and proper tactics on the battlefield could mean the life or death of those they protected.

    Further down the road, brigands waited in the bush, awaiting the small convoy. It would be easy money, and they were far enough away from the city that their cries would go unnoticed.

    People... The word echoed in Zylanthian’s mind. The wolves could smell more people.

    This is a road, you know. People travel this way, the old man replied back to Ludwig.

    The wolf snorted in response, somewhat displeased with the cavalier manner of his friend.

    Why don’t you and Wolfgang hide in the tall grasses until they pass? No need to scare some poor tradesman.

    While Zylanthian never actually spoke a word to the two wolves, both took off together into the grasses. The convenience of the talismans and the ropes were never-ending when he worked with those two. The old sage sighed, holding on tightly to his cane. Riding a horse was awkward. He didn’t intend to hold onto the knight’s waist like a love-struck girl, so he worked hard to keep himself balanced.

    So the old man leaned forward, trying to hear the trotting of a horse or an ox. “Seems a bit quieter than I expected,” he said to no one in particular. It was the first thing he said during the entire ride.

    Myel-Elina misunderstood the words of Zylan. “I also hoped we could have a little conversation during...” A shining reflect in the bushes suddenly caught her attention. She didn’t understand why, but she felt the same as when her mentor and her fell into a trap. She didn’t want to alarm the others for a simple (and somehow illogical) feeling, so she came closer to Al’s horse. “Sir Al Elazuul, do you think this road is safe?”

    Sara paid no mind to the small worries her fellow companions had. “You know I hear that food in these towns and villages can be quite good, and that the ale is bitter but packs a punch. Also that the markets are ever so busy with the hub bub of people. I’ve never really seen it just heard about it,” Sara rambled on. She was excited about going to a human town, she was already used to being among the elves.

    Aroal kept pace with the walking horses. She couldn’t afford the upkeep of her own horse, and often times, had to walk alongside her charges or fellow mercenaries. The barbarian kept her senses alert to the roadside, ever wary. Zylan and Myel-Elina were concerned about the safety of the road. Aroal wouldn’t be surprised if they were attacked by bandits. This stretch of the road was far from towns and villages and near the border.

    Mieijha kept her arms around Elainne’s waist. She wasn’t particularly comfortable riding, but as she was a slow walker, she didn’t want to slow everyone down. Elainne was in her armor so copping a feel was out of the question. Mieijha laid her head against the young squire’s shoulder and closed her eyes. The smooth movements of the horse and Elainne’s gentle scent was enough to lull the elf into a state of sleepiness.

    Myel-Elina looked at her companions. Mieijha was quietly in the state between wakefulness and sleep and no worry could be seen on Sara’s face. Aroal, Al and Elainne seemed concentrated on the protection, and only Zylan seemed to share her worry. All right, all of them are to be trust. After all, animals avoid roads, and no conscious creature would attack a convoy with two knights, one mercenary and an archer, all of them armed and ready-to-fight, to say nothing of a shaman and a sorcerer!

    At that very moment, something shone in the bush, and Myel-Elina heard a swift noise. Pain invaded her thoughts as the arrow hurt her shoulder.

    Zylan’s ears picked up the arrow shot. While he couldn’t be certain, he knew no other noise that sounded like being hit with an arrow.

    Wolfgang! Ludwig! Around the sides of the bushes, you both! Be ready to attack!

    The extra-large beasts of the wilderness bolted from their hiding places, faster than most wolves would be able to manage. The air caressed their fur, but couldn’t calm the vicious spirits they could ignite.

    “What was that?” he called out, turning this way and that in the saddle.

    Al saw the arrow embed into Myel-Elina’s shoulder, a small casualty that they couldn’t seem to prevent. He wouldn’t have the maneuverability with Zylanthian clinging to him, and he wouldn’t be able to just put the older man down and try to protect him that way. Robbers don’t usually just attack without reason, they usually surround and then demand their payment. This feels more like an ambush of assassins.

    Men surrounded the small party. “I apologize for the arrow that my comrade unintentionally fired. I assure you that we will allow her to be treated with your provisions and supplies before we loot them of you.”

    Al sighed in relief. “Oh, well that makes me feel a lot better.” He dismounted from his horse. The bandit’s eyed him warily. “Let’s play a game.” Al kept his voice calm. “The game is simple and rather interesting. I will fight three of your best men, without drawing my sword. They can use their weapons at full strength against me. It is not a contest to the death. This is simply three men against one man. The terms are this: we win, you walk away with a week’s worth of our rations, and we’re not troubled by you any more. You win, you win the rights to my horse, my sword and my armor, as well as all my gear, but you let the others go.”

    The man thought about it. It was a good deal, either way they won. But Al looked like the type of man who could defend himself, even without the use of his blade. “Amendment to the rules. Although I don’t doubt you could best three of my men unarmed, I’d rather see something of a struggle. Do this and we’ll consent to your deal.” The brigand smiled. “The girl in the back, with the elf on her. It’ll be her versus three men of her choosing.” The brigands laughed.

    “I’ll need to confer with my party, if you do not mind,” Al stated. He moved his horse inwards and took his party into somewhat close quarters. “Well, any objections, or should we just slaughter them all?”

    Aroal observed the brigands, then looked up at Al. “I vote slaughter,” Aroal started, trying to hold back a smirk. “Though I am concerned for the safety of some of our company. We do not know how many more are in the forest.”

    Sara looked at the men, then at Elainne. “She seems to do well with you in a spar weapon for weapon, but unarmed against three armed men? It seems a bit much...no?” Sara asked Al.

    “You men couldn’t really want to hurt her, could you?” Sara asked the men. Sara wanted to believe the best in everyone and emotionally could bear to see a new friend in any pain. It was a bad mix and could trigger her lycanthropy.

    The bandit leader grinned. “No, not hurt. We would wish no real harm on that young one. Just a contest of strength,” he replied to Sara. “It’s a game, remember?”

    Elainne nudged Mieijha awake. “Frankly, sir, I’m honored to take up this opportunity to dual in your stead,” she grinned and called back to the leader. “You mean, I’m not allowed to ‘draw my sword’ still?”

    “That would be correct.” The bandit leader laughed. “Why, thinking of backing out?”

    “Not yet. I need input from the others, sir. That is all.” Elainne ceased her talks with the bandits and smiled. “So, all I have to do, is keep my sword in its sheath right?”

    Al’s confident grin broadened. “That’s correct. He agreed to those terms.”

    Mieijha woke to the nudge that Elainne gave her. She carefully removed her arms from around Elainne’s torso and looked around. They were surrounded by men. Further in the forest there were more men. She overheard Elainne and Al’s little talk but kept her mouth shut while they conspired. “So there is going to be a contest?” Mieijha asked softly, still half-waking up. “And miss Elainne is going to be the forerunner?”

    Zylanthian leaned forward to Al and whispered as quietly into his ear as he could manage. “Our friends await only steps away from the backs of these men. A tap to my left leg, sir, I can guarantee death or less.” The old man sighed, coming down off of the horse slowly. “What if I fought?” the old man spoke up, a smile widening across his face. “I won’t even draw my own sword and I’ll consider it a fair fight. As far as I know, your men sound strapping. In fact, trade me in for one of them, or both.” With a chuckle, he hefted his cane, spinning it a little in his hand. Little did they know that inviting the old man to fight invited all of nature to fight along with him. Wolfgang and Ludwig couldn’t be considered weapons; they were living animals. Nothing in the rules would outlaw him from using them, since animal training was a skill that was a part of his array, not a sword or a bow.

    Zylan didn’t feel comfortable with them. While Mieijha or Elainne had the advantage of sight in case of foul play, but Zylan could overwhelm two out of three instantly and hear a third coming in time to move out of the way. “I would feel more comfortable having me in Miss Elainne’s stead. If foul play comes, I think I could handle it. Besides, if I can’t, I’ve lived a long life. I could not bear the thought of having trickery lose her.”

    Mieijha put her hand on Zylanthian’s shoulder. “But your tactic put three lives in danger,” she pointed out. “Not only the lives of the three men that are to fight, but yourself, and your two wolfish companions.” She kissed his forehead gently. “Please don’t do anything rash, I say that Elainne should be able to take part in this contest of arms. After all, it is her duty, and within her training as a knight, to deal with contests like these. If Al has faith in her abilities as his squire, then I say that we should too. Although, I’d much rather someone more combat experienced, like Sara or Aroal would go in her stead.” She smiled. “Because I’m useless in a fight, except for my magic.”

    Zylan jabbed Mieijha sharply in the side with his cane. “Shush you! They don’t know about it!” he whispered. “Trust me.”

    “Oww,” Mieijha remarked offhandedly. “Lay off the beatings, young man,” she growled. “I may be a patient elf, but that doesn’t mean I won’t turn my kiss into a bite.” She shook her head. This was no time to be fighting amongst themselves. Myel-Elina was hurt. Mieijha scooted to Myel’s side and pulled the arrow out gingerly. She began to immediately treat the wound with her medicinal knowledge. “Sorry for pulling it out without warning, Myel.” Mieijha smiled. “I’ll have you bandaged and better in no time.”

    “Then how about this? Elainne and I fight. Mieijha can stay and care for Lady Myel while I aid Elainne. Those men want a fight they think they can win, and I’m inclined to give it to them. Besides, I’m no fool.” Zylan twisted his cane handle slightly and pulled, showing a glint of metal hidden inside. “I’ve known my way around combat for years. And if the skill scares them, my old age and obvious disadvantage will make up for it. What say you both?” he asked, looking to both Al and Elainne.

    Myel-Elina grimaced. Unintentionally? Well, it’s really not my day of luck! The bad feeling had strangely disappeared as soon as the arrow was shot, and she felt comforted despite of the hurt. Her shoulder made her suffer, and she had not the endurance to hide it, but she tried to smile to Mieijha.

    “Thank you, Mieijha,” she said in a murmur. “I almost believed no one noticed my hurt, but you have a real gift for healing.” She walked with pain to her companions and took a deep breath. “Master Al Elazuul is right, Elainne can fight. And she must fight alone. I don’t see how she could loose and, furthermore, what you all see as her weakness could be her greater quality in that fight. I entirely trust Elainne and Al for this struggle.” What a pity I can’t write now! I’ll have to remember it well! The knight and his squire facing each three ruffians! “Oh, by the way, can you tell me who the shooter is? I may unintentionally hit my fist into his skull…”

    Sara giggled at the comment Myel made. “I say let Elainne have her fun, and if they try anything we’ll bring them all down,” Sara said drawing her bow and an two arrows.

    It seemed everyone was for Elainne to fight the brigands, though Zylan was practically begging to fight in her stead. The barbarian frowned, nearly pouting. She would love the chance to fight them, or take on the challenge herself. Usually, she was the only woman in parties, and assumed the weakest. Oh, how she loved proving people wrong. However, here, she was one of the obvious strong warriors.

    “I agree with Mieijha,” Aroal said, though she sounded disappointed. “Elainne is a squire and this is good training. While I would love to kick their asses myself, I believe it would be a sting to their pride if a young girl were to defeat them. I don’t doubt her ability, and Mieijha, if you could watch out for her with your spirit magic, I believe we could keep her from serious harm.”

    Al clapped Elainne on the shoulder. “Well, it’s up to you then, Elainne.” He smacked her in the back of the head. “There you go,” he yelled to the brigands. “I’ve weakened her for you so that your men have a chance.”

    Elainne rubbed the back of her head and moved forward. She stopped beside Zylanthian and kissed his cheek. “Don’t worry. You can have the next ones, I promise.” She walked past him and chose three of the strongest looking of the brigands. “They will do,” she stated.

    The men drew their swords and smiled cruelly. There was no way that this young girl could possibly take on the three of them, at once to boot. They flanked her, a typical strategy for mercenaries and thieves alike. Elainne shifted her stance to ready for the first attack. She had always fought one on one with master Al, but this would be a good challenge for her, as he saw.

    Still in the scabbard, Elainne flung her sword from her side, breaking the arm at the midpoint between the wrist and the elbow of the one to her left, she spun into her swing, going low with her left hand she grabbed a handful of dirt and flung it into the face of the attacker on her left. The momentary movement of the armored girl caught the three men off guard, and to drive home her great flurry, she leapt at the last of the attackers, bouldering him over with her shoulder. Elainne, though rather light herself, with her armor on, was enough to knock the wind out of the unsuspecting man. She rolled to her knee and rose to her feet.

    “Taa-dah,” she announced. “Victory goes to...” she stopped in mid speech to block an incoming arrow. “Well, then. I guess there is more to do for a little squire.”

    The bandit leader grinned. “You were to fight barehanded. You forfeit your victory.”

    Al shook his head. “No, the rules were: ‘we were unable to draw our swords’. She stuck to the rules. Thus she won.” He walked closer to the leader, the man from Flaim put his hand on his sword. “Of course, one of your men firing upon her from the sidelines is in direct violation of the game.”

    Elainne’s face went pale. “Master...don’t draw your sword. It’s okay. He missed.”

    Al’s hand was far quicker than Elainne’s voice. The bandit leader lay on the ground, cleaved in two. The dark sword pulsed its evil aura over the battle field. The sword had tasted blood again, but it was far from satiated. Al growled like a wild animal and threw himself into the fray, hacking and slashing feeding the blood to his unholy blade.

    If Zylan could open his eyes, they would be wide. “That...” It was clear now. He didn’t have to guess at what could be bothering the knight anymore. This wasn’t good at all, but he was inclined to let Al go if it meant a quick end to the conflict. Old Lord Baratoice ducked down low, unable to keep track of so much noise. So, he concentrated. Now!

    Two gigantic wolves burst from the grass, bolting around the bandits. The wolves knew what to do. The ranged warriors were their targets. Both swung around with an extra burst of speed, charging into a leaping tackle. Their powerful jaws went straight for the necks of their targets. They would die in seconds.

    Aroal watched Al’s attack, but it was his sword that caught her attention. She could see the dark aura about it. What was a knight doing with something so evil? Was that the root of his temper from the night before? She would have to worry about it later.

    The barbarian was tempted to jump into the fight with Al, under the guise of getting Elainne out, but someone had to protect the weaker members of the party. Aroal drew out her axes and placed herself between the bandits and the rest of her party.

    Myel-Elina took her dagger in her hand. Her wound made her suffer and she didn’t feel like she was in the right place. Then she noticed Al’s dark blade and the strange behavior of the knight. The scene terrified her, but it also awoke Myel-Elina’s natural curiosity. “What’s happening here?” she murmured.

    Mieijha felt the dark presence once again, Al had drawn his sword. There was little she could do now, her own spirits under her command were too frightened to come out with the dark aura emanating from Al’s sword. Oh father, what would you do...? she asked silently. Midau was a shaman like her, only stronger, older and more responsive. Mieijha was shaking, the aura was stronger than it was the day before. Al would be sharp and cruel tonight. She saw that the last time that he drew the sword. She knew that the fight wouldn’t end until the blade had its fill. The dark spirit inside it wanted the deaths of all that stood in Al’s way. It was cruel and twisted, turning a good man into a demon of the battle field. Mieijha fell to her knees and covered her head. She couldn’t concentrate with Al’s sword being in such close proximity.

    The bandits were focused on Al hacking through them, and Aroal didn’t want to get close to that sword. She feared it could make him as uncontrollable as a berserker. Sheathing her axes only momentarily, Aroal dropped the bundle of spears from her shoulder and drew one out. They weren’t as reliable as a bow and arrows, but Aroal liked them.

    Spinning around with the spear in hand, she gained enough momentum, then chucked the spear upwards, so that it fell into the bandits. It impaled a man in the middle of the crowd through the chest. She hoped Sara would take up her bow as well.

    Elainne drew her sword in a hurry and cut her way back towards the horses. She was hoping it wouldn’t have to come to this, master Al succumbing to the curse even further, but it was too late for that now. She got back to the others, and propped up Mieijha. “Mieijha, listen to me. Now is the perfect time to cast a spell. Any spell will do.” She shook the larger elf woman to bring her back to the world. “Any spell, you hear me?” Elainne turned her head to Zylanthian when Mieijha continued to huddle. “You can cast spells, right master Zylanthian? Please do. It doesn’t matter how trite the spell. The sword doesn’t like magic.”

    Al bathed in the gore and carnage he ensued. Many of the bandits sought to flee from the man possessed, but few that got within his arc saw much more than the dark blade cutting down their allies. With all the revelry, the chaos and carnage, the dark blade was gorging on the essences of those it slew. This is perfect, it roared in Al’s subconscious. Not since the war have we fed like this! Death to all that come before me.

    When Elainne turned to Zylanthian, he was already casting, before she even said a word. “Forces of nature, fuel of life, I merge my will with thine! Shatter the grip of unnatural forces on this man’s victimized existence!” Magic ripples around the man, coursing across his body as he spoke. With the last word, the magic tore through the air, dead on for the sword that caused so much harm. The power careened into the sword’s presence in the hopes of breaking its hold on the user.

    Though it wasn’t enough to break the curse, the presence within the sword retreated, allowing Al to sheathe his unholy weapon. Unfortunately, the damage was already done. Those that were around Al immediately were in pieces, those that weren’t fled for their lives, and rightfully so. Covered in the gore he himself created, he turned to his traveling companions and put on a false smile. “Well, it seems I went a little overboard here.” He bound the sword within its scabbard once again, in hopes that it wouldn’t try to use his mind and body again.

    Elainne rushed to her master’s side. With her armored hand she slapped him across the face, crying as she did so. She fell into his chest sobbing fanatically, unable to make much sense in the older knight’s arms.

    With the shock of Elainne’s sudden explosion of anger behind him, Al wrapped his arms around his youthful squire. “I’m sorry,” he said softly. He threw his right gauntlet to the ground so he could stroke her head. “Hush now, I’m sorry you had to see that.”

    Al held Elainne there, in ground zero of the massacre that he started. His companions surely knew about his sword and his curse. There was no turning back now. In the silence of the aftermath, the knight and his squire stood in embrace, the older comforting the younger. There was no one there for Al when this sword first made him slaughter all those years ago in the war, but Elainne had Al to lean on, to learn from, and to draw strength and wisdom from. That was the extent of their relationship. Teacher to student, although, in that tender moment of their embrace perhaps more was visible to the onlookers than to the two embraced.

    Sara watched the carnage take place around her, but said nothing. She took her bow and arrow and focused on keeping any others at bay.

    Aroal looked on with her brows furrowed in concern. The bandits who avoided the range of Al’s attack had ran for their lives and were no longer a threat. Aroal picked up her weapons while Al and Elainne embraced, but she wanted to ask him just where he got such and accursed item. It reminded her of Marmo. As far as she knew, cursed objects were not easy to come by on the mainland, unless you traded on the black market, and then, it didn’t seem like something a knight of Flaim would seek to buy. It seemed most likely that he found it on Marmo.

    She didn’t think it was the right time to discuss the matter. Shouldering her bundle of spears, she approached the two, unphased by the carnage at their feet. She carefully avoided stepping on the bodies, severed limbs, and entrails.

    Laying her hand on Al’s shoulder, Aroal spoke softly, “I want to speak with you alone when we next make camp.”

    “Very well,” Al said to Aroal. He removed Elainne from his chest and lifted his gauntlet. “Mieijha and Zylanthian will take my horse. Elainne and Myel-Elina will be on hers,” he announced. There was no need to get the old man all mucked up with the blood that he was soaked in. “We’ll push further south once everyone is mounted and ready to go.”

    The old sage dropped his hands to his sides, sighing. While he couldn’t see what destruction may have been wrought, he could assume combat was over. The clashes of weapons were over. Even the growls of his beasts had subsided somewhat.

    Chase?

    Let them go, he thought to his companions. They have lost more than enough, if their friends meant anything to them.

    The wolves stood down. Their nails and teeth were covered in blood, almost mirroring that of Al himself. The truth of nature might be a bit unsettling for those comfortable city dwellers. Scout out water. Get washed up and return. Some of us may need the same blessing, Zylan said to them through his mind, leaning on his cane. The two bolted off back into the grass, going in different directions.

    He couldn’t be sure what that was until he saw it for himself, but hopefully that spell had broken something. Even if it only weakened the source from its victim, Zylanthian would consider it a success.

    Elainne went back to the horses and helped Mieijha and Zylanthian onto Al’s horse, then helped Myel-Elina up as she mounted her steed. Elainne made a quick check to see if anything was left behind. When she was satisfied with everything packed up again, she gave Al a signal. Al nodded and looked to Aroal. “You can speak on the way there. I have a lot of explaining to do, it seems.”

    Mieijha thanked Elainne for the help up into the saddle and sighed. She’d much rather saddle up with Elainne, but it couldn’t be helped. She craned her neck a bit and looked back at Zylanthian. “Believe you me, I envy you at this moment. Seeing that carnage...” She shuddered, but didn’t continue. The more she thought about it, the less she liked it. She just hoped they would move from this place as soon as possible.

    “I didn’t have to see it to see it,” Zylanthian stated, keeping himself in check. Blindness did not beget ignorance, he thought to himself. Eyes didn’t have to see in order for him to know exactly what it would look like. And, if there was any question, all he would have to do was dig back into his own memory to see what Ludwig and Wolfgang were capable of.

    “Thank you Elainne,” he muttered, adjusting his cane in his lap.

    Myel-Elina stood silent during the whole scene. She was at the same time excited and frightened, but she overall felt great sadness. She really began to have sympathy for Al and Elainne, and that curse caused her such sorrow that a furtive tear rolled upon her cheek. She hardly got on Elainne’s horse with the help of the squire that the pain in her shoulder made her suffer again, but it was not her main worry.

    “Thank you for sharing your mount, Elainne,” She told the squire. “I’m… I’m really sorry for you and your master…” She took a deep breath. “I’d like to be able to do something, but songs and lutes are inefficient against curses—or whatever it is… If I may help you, just tell me…” Her voice was unsure and she felt like never before. Her own history was filled with sorrows, and songs she knew were often tainted with pain; but she never was witness of such a curse…

    “You’re welcome,” Elainne said to Myel-Elina, and spurred her horse forward. Al would be explaining things to Aroal, so she kept her distance from her master, keeping the others in close. “Sara...umm...” She had no idea what to say. “You okay with walking?”

    “Walking is fine with me,” Sara said with a smile. “The day is young, and I still have every bit of life in me. So I will have no problems.” Sara then realized she was with the perfect group for her, for she wasn’t the only one cursed, but she began wondering how many of the others in the group might be dealing with issues. Sara took up the rear.

    Aroal waited patiently as the riders mounted. Once they were ready, she turned and began to walk onward with Al. As soon as everyone was following, and Aroal felt they had a good distance between themselves and the rest of the party, the barbarian finally spoke up.

    “Where did you get that sword?” she asked, sounding as if she were about to turn him over her knee like a mother would if he lied.

    At the head of the group, Al decided to talk. “I found this sword on Marmo.” He sighed. “Part of ‘treasure’ that we were allowed to take. More importantly, it was to replace my broken sword.” He gave a soft smile. “Yes, stupid as it may have been, when you are fighting for your life, and your sword breaks, there are few things that go through your mind. ‘Is this sword cursed?’ is not one of them. I drew the sword to defend myself. That was the mistake I made, and am not proud to admit. Elainne knew. That would be why she would make excuses for me.”

    Aroal gave a sigh when Al finished. She had no right to be angry with him. Ever since she could remember, her parents warned her about picking up strange relics. There were always mysterious ancient weapons and objects to be found on Marmo, lost by evil mages or priests, or left laying about by demons seeking to torment whatever unfortunate soul found their relic. She grew up accepting it as common sense not to touch mysterious objects, and she’d seen children in her tribe suffer when they let their curiosity get the best of them.

    “I suppose I can’t blame you for your ignorance,” Aroal replied, her voice lost its edge. “I grew up on Marmo, and from the time I could walk, my parents warned me to never touch a strange relic. Even in the most dire situation, I wouldn’t take an unknown weapon. Marmo is littered with such cursed items, Flaim is not. I realize you didn’t learn the same lessons I had to as a child.”

    “I’d understand that it was a normal curse if I could. I’ve seen both priests as well as magicians,” He sighed. “The blade is alive. It feeds on the blood of those it kills. The priests couldn’t do anything, and the magicians I’ve seen so far were only able to bind it in the sheath, and even that is waning.” Al looked to Aroal. “Regardless of cursed relics, this sword looked nothing special. It was just a sword, and I needed a weapon to fend for myself. How was I supposed to know that it was alive?”

    Aroal gave a wry smirk. “That’s exactly why I was taught never to pick them up,” she replied. “It’s probably a demon relic then. Sometimes, demons will leave accursed items where humans can find them, just to toy with a human life. I wouldn’t be surprised if a demon soul is bound to that blade.” The barbarian woman gave a shrug. “I’m no expert on demons though, I just know what any Marmo native ought to know.”

    Al looked to Aroal and nodded. “Yeah, well, demon or no, this sword is bound to me, as I am to it.” He sighed. “It is odd though,” he stated after some small consideration. “Marfa un-cursed the whole isle of Marmo, but left any accursed objects alone. Perhaps even a goddess’s strength is limited.”

    Aroal shrugged. She hadn’t been to Marmo after the cleansing. “Maybe those items were just too minute of a detail for her to concern herself with,” the barbarian suggested.

    “Perhaps,” Al mused. His gaze went skyward. Ahead it seemed as time was passing slower, as their group made its way towards the city of Dragon Scale.

* * *

    As they walked along the dirt road Sara ran her fingers across her chest feeling the amulet underneath her leather chest plate and watched the sun dance through the trees. The sounds of wolves howling danced in the back of her mind as she began to wonder if she’d ever find her real father. “Al is a very patient man, is he not? Any man that could endure a party of five women and not have only on thing on his mind is truly a man of strong will, I’d say he cut from a different cloth,” Sara said to Elainne and Myel.

    Mieijha looked to Sara. “I think he’s a very patient man.” She smiled. “He’s very kind and considerate too.” She sighed. “Alas, from human standards, I’m too old for him. Humans would look at me hitting on Zylanthian as cradle robbing.”

    Myel-Elina looked at Mieijha. “Yes, Master Al is patient and kind. But he’s a knight, and his life will never be peaceful. His duty will always be more important than anything else, including his own feelings. Or at least this is what his king want from him.” She took a deep breath before going on. Her shoulder was still painful and the paces of the horses did not help. Furthermore, she suddenly reminded of her father and of the cruelty of his duty as Knight of Valis. “He is a great man, that’s true, of great will and great honor. But his fate is to be a knight of Flaim before being a man. Am I wrong, Elainne?”

    Elainne sighed. “No, master Al is a man first, a knight second. He, like me, is on temporal hiatus from our knightly duties. He left the knighthood so that he could find a cure.” Elainne looked at her master with sorrow in her young eyes. “But yes...he is a good man. Always has been, according to the other knights that served with him.” A small tear rolled down her cheek. “But perhaps it is fate that caused master to obtain that accursed sword. If he could control the dark impulses, perhaps he could master the sword’s usage. It just takes a lot of willpower, I’m sure.”

    “Whether fate or circumstance, the fact remains that he is cursed.” Mieijha sighed. “I just hope that we can find some way of easing Al’s pain and suffering. The sword nearly winded me alone. Such an oppressive spirit, I hope that it doesn’t need to be drawn again in any hurry.” She tapped Zylanthian’s leg. “Thank you for your aid. Had you not cast that spell, I fear that there would have been little we could do to aid Al at the time being. I curse my own weakness and horrible fear of the spirit that lies within his blade.” The elf sighed and shifted. She wasn’t used to travel by horse, nor travel for that matter.

    It took several minutes for Myel-Elina to realize what she had said. The memories of her own father serving as a Holy Knight of Valis, leaving his wife and daughter home and dying in the war invaded her. She saw the pale face of her mother, lying upon her deathbed. She wanted to cry, to get off the horse and cry alone. Her shoulder made her suffer even more, and the pain she felt for Al arose again. It took great efforts to recover her mind.

    “I’m sorry, Elainne, I should not have said that.” She put her arms around the squire’s chest affectionately, and softly cried. “But whatever it may need, I swear I will not let Al with this curse. I cannot let you two down. He’s a man with great power and great will, and even more affection and kindness. If one man can defeat this curse, then he’s the right man. And…” Her voice was now marked with a deep and spreading hope. “There are good people to support him, the first of all being yourself. I am sure he will surmount this with your aid.”

    Sara watched as her feet beat a rhythm in to the ground as they moved along the trail. “Don’t feel sad Myel, everyone has a curse some are just more of a burden then others,” Sara said in hope that Myel’s spirits would be lifted. Even if everyone having a curse in their life wasn’t very reassuring.

    “This old man needs no thanks for a trickle of magic,” he said, looking straight into the woman’s back.

    “It’s alright, Myel...” Elainne smiled. “It doesn’t bother me too much. I’m sure that everyone in this group has some sort of curse or another, whether it be real or imagined. We just have to come to grips with our fears and face them head on. That’s what master Al says. But he’s a leader. He’s led people to battle, even during the war five years ago.”

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