《Corrupted》 ~:\| Chapter 1 |/:~
[User: Default] [Class Rank: Soldier] [Strength : 15] [Constitution : 14] [Dexterity : 16] [Intelligence : 14] [Perception : 14] [Stat Points : 0]
The lingering alien letters and numbers on the peripheral vision of Raicer¡¯s eyes were slowly fading through the hazy background of a dark and ravaged land. The Blood Status, scholars of the old and ruined Emperor''s Rhaodian academy named it, and as such, as is, condemned it. The Blood Status was the only stable tether that was keeping Raicer¡¯s insanity intact, thus far, he supposes. Raicer¡¯s Auditory senses, once deafen by musket blast and artillery thumps were now beginning to function to the sound of drips clinging into the shellshock of his mind. Plip, plop, plip, plop, plip, plop. Raicer work to flutter his eyelashes open, glimpsing with his bruised sight at a world of red smoke and war-torn. It was the cruel aftermath and indifference of said battle. Raicer taking a deep sigh-began to check his new surroundings. He was low in elevation, he knelt within a shallow pool of dark crimson. He tried to maneuver his right arm to rub the crusty flakes of dry blood, that was currently drenched in his eyelashes, it was impairing his vision, but the excruciating pain that came up from lifting halted his actions. A thought crossed his mind, ¡®Brother?¡¯ Where is his brother? A sense of panicky dread went down his spine, taking another gander around his surroundings, forcing his eyes wide to take another inspection of the scene that was before him for any signs of his brother. Several paces away from him, was a dark lying silhouette. The body was in a furrow of clump grass, covering the signs of life with its sparsity. Raicer, lift his person, from the pool of blood he was condensed in. Blood from his dark brown pants, began to stream down his attire, leaving the unearthly stain of blood on the latter half of his Recrest Uniform. The jostling of his sheathed rapier and empty holster alerted him that he did not have his officer assigned flintlock. ¡°Rai¡­? Rai? Is that you? Did you finally wake?¡± A voice of a boy, not yet a man, strangled out from the lying silhouette that Raicer was currently facing. ¡°Gully, is that you? My eyes...I can¡¯t see very well, tell me it¡¯s you?¡± No other choice, Raicer continued to lift up his worn body onto the path of the dark silhouette that was hidden in the furrows and long grass. He felt the sharp slice of meat on his left bicep, telling him to not jostling his stiff arm too much. Brushing the long grass that was covering the silhouette¡¯s face, gave him a long sigh of relief, finally able to see his brother¡¯s pale and worn face in the muck, alive. ¡°Rai...I thought you fell asleep¡­ Urgh, after I saved your life, so many..many times¡­¡± Hazy eyes greet Raicer, while he was staring down at his brother¡¯s laying form. His brother tries to hold down a chortle, but could not, as consequences, A small wallop of blood started scoffs out from the side of Gully¡¯s mouth. ¡°-Don¡¯t speak, you are injured...Gully. And I told you, don¡¯t mix up the real world with your dreams.¡± He scolds, rebuking his smiling pale brother. Raicer drags his right uninjured arm forward to sit his brother up to embrace him with a loving hug. ¡°Argh! Not too tight Rai, I¡¯m still currently growing.¡± Gully breathly rebukes under the neck of his brother. ¡®For all the summer years, I know you brother, you make such horrible jokes.¡¯ Raicer thought. Trying not to grimace, he took a deep breath than inspected of his brother¡¯s worn appearance, trying to find his brother¡¯s injuries that were hidden underneath his brother¡¯s uniform. ¡°Where are you hurt Gully?¡± ¡°Hurt?¡± Gully lift a sarcastic brow at him. ¡°All over.¡± ¡°I¡¯m serious brother¡­¡± Raicer deadpan, downplaying his brother¡¯s happy go lucky attitude. Trying to hold on to his cough, Gully weaseled out that his chest was the most primary of his injuries. Raicer continued holding his brother as he sat up, leaning against him. He contemplated the situation that they were thrust upon, trying to figure out a way to get out of their current straits. Pools of dark crimsons were drying around the land around them, the rocky soil they were upon, could not take any more blood into their earth. Raicer needed to find help, the Recrest army aid, in fact. Raicer¡¯s brother head tilted on top of his shoulder, he seems to be losing consciousness. ¡°I¡¯m awake, I¡¯m awake.¡± Gully sputtered, with a drowsy expression. Raicer needed to keep his brother awake as much as possible, he feared for the worst if his brother falls into a deep sleep--besides carrying his unconscious brother across the battlefield, while also injured would be an impossible task for him at this moment. Holding his little brother up, lifting him while supporting his weight, Raicer tense all his aches and muscles for such endeavors. After lifting Gully out from the pool of blood that he was soaked in. Blood started dripping down both their uniforms and back into the puddle in which it was distributing upon. The aftermath of the battle, there were pools, no¡­more like rivers of blood streaming across the rocky hills of the northern territory border, the corpses of the soldiers of Recrest and Rensfor were sputtered across the field. ¡°Whose puddle is that? Did you wet yourself again..?¡± Raicer tried to lift the gloomy atmosphere they were with a smarmy joke to keep his brother occupied awake. ¡°Mine, don¡¯t tell mother.¡± His little brother chortles-going along with it, began to cough out a glob of dark thick blood. Raicer¡¯s shoulders tensed up from Gully¡¯s chortling coughs. ¡°-Don¡¯t try to speak¡­ Gully, we are going to get some help.¡± Raicer gently rebukes his little brother and also himself, for allowing things to go to this. ¡®Why am I so stupid, sometimes¡­¡¯ Raicer carefully inspected thoroughly his brother¡¯s left side, above his arm, a vertical rip was embedded on his brother¡¯s uniform. Gully had a vertical slash wound on his shoulder, beneath the layers of cloth. It looked deep, far too deep to be easily stitched. Wrapping the wound with a torn strip of his uniform, gingerly, Raicer needed to get his little brother a Medicas, he knew a little first aid and he knew that his bandage would not enough to halt his bleed. Again, with no other choice, he gingerly wraps his right hand on this little brother¡¯s side again, instead of sitting him up, he lifts him up using the last of his depleted strength. Gully palm the earth to support Raicer from lifting him up onto his sols, there was blood dripping down his brother¡¯s left arm. Raicer began his slow trek supporting his little brother on his side forward, he had to concentrate on his footing and his motions, so he would not jostle his brother top half. Gully faintly limp beside him, hearing his steps, gave Raicer some relief, even if they were heading to no direction, hoping for any motion of help. ¡®Forgive me, Ma...Forgive me, Pa¡­I¡¯m sorry, I¡¯ve lead Gull here...Into this forsaken place.¡¯ Raicer felt the shallow breaths of his brother lessen in thickness and sound. Missing his footing, they nearly stumble past an arm of a corpse, that was in their way. He lifted his brother up slightly, so Gully could comfortably lean on his shoulders to lessen his strain but his brother groans abruptly halted his movement. ¡°Sss-sorry Gully, I can¡¯t seem to get my foot right¡­¡± Apologize Raicer, profusely. He rebuked himself for causing pain to his younger brother. His brother did not reply back. A dark thought crosses his mind. ¡®Had Gully...taken my advice or did he fall deep into his family sleep.¡¯ He hoped for the latter. ¡°Sshhh¡­¡± Gully quietly and softly voiced. A sigh of relief came from Raicer, the thought of his brother, dead to him, would be the final nail in his frame of regrets of his life. Trying to get that grim thought out, he remembers something from his childhood. His little brother would sometimes sleepwalk around the room they shared when they were children. ¡®Sleepwalking injured¡­ In a worn-torn battlefield. Only Gully would do something so bizarre.¡¯ The thought of Gully sleepwalking gave Raicer a small smirk, as the two brothers trek onwards. His little brother a bit suspicious at the silence swayed his face towards the smirking Raicer. ¡°I was having a beautiful dream, then you had to ruin it, with that stupid look-What is so goddamn funny?¡± Gully stubbornly inquires, while Raicer tries to hide his shit-eating-grin away from his brother. Looking back at his little brother. ¡°I told you Gull, don¡¯t mix up the real world with your dreams.¡± He chided. Gully¡¯s eyes shined with fond mirth, trying hold down a rough chuckle.¡±Gully, do not do this, don¡¯t associate that¡­ Sometimes, I wonder why I keep you around brother, if all you do is order me.¡± Gully exacerbated. ¡°Hey now...do you recall, I am still your Captain? The Captain of the 98th Regiment of the Red to be in fact.¡± Raicer intones Gully could tell when he was acting.¡°-You of all people, shouldn¡¯t be sarcastic to your superiors.¡± Raicer continued, ending his inflection with a low tambour of authority. ¡°Ah big brother, I¡¯m going..to-to miss these stupid moments. But the more you keep talking the less funny you are getting..¡± Gully coughing slightly, softly says. Raicer paused their movements, holding Gully tightly while he lent on him. ¡°I am Officer Poet, not a comedian, do not oh fair brother, mix the latter with the other.¡± He remarks. ¡°-Besides, situations like these are the perfect time for gallows humor.¡± Raicer strongly argues. A metal clap sharply pings the surrounding air, pinging the two brothers that they were not alone. ¡°Quite right, boy...Quite right.¡± A man calls out, abruptly with the rich vocal tambour of a man of command. The man was plated in knightly silver steel with gold trims coating the edges. He stood out amidst the dead, one-hundred paces in front of the two brothers-blocking their forward trek. The knight was unblemished with the gore of the battle, he seems to be freshly new in his shining alabaster steel set. The knight continued his pinging claps, while the two brothers scrutinize him from afar. A gold emblem of a pentagon with a red burning heart was emblazoned on the center of the knight¡¯s chest plate, which branded the man what he was, an Inquisitor of the Holy Order of The Eternal Heart. One of the four ruling religious Orders of the Holy Rhaodian Empire. The Holy Orders strictly follow the Holy Edits of the Holy Pre-Exactor Pope, Radian the Ever Chosen. They were currently the foreign allies that the Baron of Registrar formed with to battle in the ongoing civil war for the Regalian Throne. Raicer thought about the situation before them, an uneasy feeling at the back of his mind. Putting his best courtly act, he stood up sharp befitting his rank while his brother knelt himself on him. ¡°I am Captain Raicer Lacea of the 98th Regiment of The Red, serving under the Baron Recrest of Registrar. I request the service of the benevolent Orders of the Holy Rhaodian Empire that is mandated by the agreement between the Baron and the Holy Pope you served under¡­¡± He declares, stating his alignment and request while the Rhaodian kept on with his clinging claps. ¡°Who is it-brother? I can¡¯t see him properly. Curse Regis, I wish I had my glasses.¡± Gully laments for his lost eyepiece recently lost during the haze of the battle. The thought of his brother¡¯s expensive eyepiece, lost in the furrows of the battlefield, made him groan at the expense of replacing it would be. The clinging clapping increase it¡¯s pace, giving a resounding melody throughout the mutters of rings. The plated inquisitor seemed more excited than before. The nerve of this man was infuriating Raicer, as he continued his stupid claps. Three similar garb men where silhouetted in the smoke, behind the first inquisitor. ¡°By thy holy mother¡­ brethren thy mother haft bless us today, one of our quarry who hafts by fate-shown thyself to us in thy hallowed fields.¡± The first inquisitor announce. The uneasy feeling on the back of Raicer¡¯s mind crescendo into danger. ¡°By the by, Sir Raicer Lacea¡­ is that man leaning on you, Sir Rohan Reshant?¡± The inquisitor inquired. The man was smug to Raicer, his eyes leering at them. At least he ended his clattering claps from further clinging. What does the inquisitor even want with the sniveling upstart Lieutenant Rohan Reshant? Could they be friends in high places, looking out for him? He was a noble, and he once bragged about his connections. Well, whatever the reasons they needed Reshant, the nagging sensation of danger was still instilled in Raicer¡¯s instinct. ¡°I am no Sir, Lord Inquisitor. And no...this young man before you is not Lord Rohan Reshant, but my younger brother, Gulcasa Lacea.¡± Raicer states as he nods gesturing to his younger brother. ¡°Oh I see, that saddens me to hear that one of our quarries is not fated to be with us at this noon. But no matter, for the mother haft gave us the one with the taint, which haft not fallen into it, yet.¡± The knightly Inquisitor laments to Raicer¡¯s confusion, but the sinking knowledge that they were after him for something sinister was apparent. The three inquisitors behind the first, spread themselves evenly around Raicer, in a half encirclement. They pace themselves cautiously, it was clarifying to Raicer, that they were hostile to him and his brother. ¡®Knowing one¡¯s intentions before the actions.¡¯ Was a mantra his father taught him in his younger days. Raicer tensed up his shoulders, preparing himself for the upcoming fight before him. Feeling the tenseness of his brother. ¡°What is wrong Rai?¡± Gully murmured softly to his side, losing his sound as he spoke. Raicer felt his brother slacken. His brother was losing his strength fast, he needed a place to rest him before the violence started. Raicer slowly lay his brother gently on the cold earth beside him. ¡°Lay your mind at ease Gul. Rest here for a while, help will be coming.¡± Raicer with sorrow brimming in his eyes lied to his befuddled brother. Gully began to slowly close his eyelids as he blissfully smiled up to his brother, comforted by his words. A small squelch, barely audible was heard by Raicer at the side of him. Raicer stilled at the sound, one of them was closer than he thought. It must be a fifth inquisitor, ready to strike him from behind, the moment he acts. He could not let the other inquisitors before him, know that he knew that someone was approaching behind him. ¡°When you fight, always start off with a surprise for it will create confusion, delaying the actions of your opponents for the few moments it gives.¡± The voice of his father drills in the back of Raicer¡¯s mind. Raicer ganders to the side of his attire, at his rapier sheathed and the empty holster. Hovering his hand slowly yet carefully over the pommel, ready to launch it at a moment¡¯s notice, prepared himself for the moment to act. Raicer still needed to fane distraction to give the Inquisitor before him, the sense of confidence. An idea crossed his mind. He needed to create a discussion and with that, to sound gullible, stupid and outraged during it all. ¡°Why, what¡¯s going on!?¡± Raicer voiced adding panic in his inflection to show them that he did not understand what was going to happen.¡±-What does the Holy Order want with me and Lord Reshant?¡± He nervously questions, hoping his distracted acting help build confidence between the Inquisitors before him and behind him. Raicer slanting slightly, pivot his foot to its side for a back-twist. The Inquisitors were edging themselves closer to Raicer, except for the first one that who had spoken, he just stood there, a stone man of silences, and then he spoke. ¡°Thy Regalian Nobility and the Marcian Nobility are a plague to humanity, cursed by thy Mother. With thy benevolence of thy Ever-Chosen, our holiness haft decreed--that thy infestation in thy mother shall be extinguished.¡± The Inquisitor proclaims with eyes burning with the fervor of his faith. The other devotees except for the one ready to strike Raicer from behind intones. ¡°Thy Decreed by Thy Ever-Chosen.¡± They chanted in reverence. ¡°Decreed by the Ever-Chosen, huh? Whatever it may be, it has nothing to do with me--for I am no noble.¡± Raicer scoffs bristly with an inflection of anger in his voice. Concentrating his hearing, he kept his focus on any motions behind him. The audible of steel swishing will be his moment when he can act. ¡°You, Raicer Lacea, are thy bastard of one!¡± The Inquisitor snarls. A flick of steel motions behind Raicer, hearing the approach with no time to wisecrack, he ducks down avoiding the steel slashing the air that he was previously. He then pivots, clutching pommel than drawing his rapier out from his sheath with practice efficiency, he twisted his body than thrust into the man, no Inquisitor before him. Surprised was planted on inquisitor¡¯s expression, then the shock of horror at the realization that Raicer pierced through his neck with the point of his rapier. There was no time to contemplate his decision for striking a killing blow. This man was about to murder him, an Inquisitor of an Order that apparently wants him dead.Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. The Inquisitor stumbles back dropping his half-sword as Raicer draws out his point out of the man¡¯s spluttering neck. Raicer than turn back towards the other Inquisitors that were half-enveloping him, their expression was of shock--frozen in their motions. They looked flabbergasted and outraged at the murder of one of their brethren.¡¯A surprise for a surprise, that is what my father would say.¡¯ Raicer thought at the back of his mind. The dead inquisitor, No...man, there was no more roles for the dead, just a corpse of a man who was once holy. The man¡¯s half sword was lying on the side of Raicer. Raicer crouched down, resting his right knee on the dirt. He quickly gropes for the half-sword pommel with his left hand. On Raicer¡¯s right hand was the freshly bloodied rapier, and on his injured left was the half-sword blade of the inquisitors. ¡®Oh fates.¡¯ He thought ¡®--Whatever may come of this, I will be ready.¡¯ The first inquisitor with the stony expression commanded his brethren to collect their composure. He then took a long sigh, the sigh sounded old and with regret. ¡°Quite impressive young man, it isn¡¯t easy to kill one of the newly adept of our Order--but you...with one flick of your sword, you managed to fell a brother.¡± The inquisitor stated, plainly, without any form of malice or emotion at the death of one of his fellows. The silence after the statement was Raicer¡¯s reply to the inquisitor. Raicer had to calmly strategize a way to survive through this situation, carefully considering, he needed to act first before the rest could take action. The atmosphere was tense, if kindled by a spark, the violence would erupt. The first inquisitor than drew out his half sword to a precise and practiced motion, the rest followed half a moment behind. ¡°Thy heart haft chosen, thy life hafts thy meaning¡­ for thy curse will fall to our devotion. As is, as such.¡± The first inquisitor mantras, with the rest chanting half a moment behind. The inquisitor all step, syncing their steps together while they pace towards Raicer in their half enveloping circle. Raicer needed to find a way to fight them separately. Defending attacks from encircling opponents will be an impossible feat for him, especially with his tiring and injured state. He also needed to lead them away from his unconscious brother, in case one of them had the brilliant idea of stabbing his brother while he was in his slumber. Raicer swaying his head to the left than right decided. Breaking the encirclement was his only viable solution. Running towards one of them was his best option, he considered. If Raicer manages to get past that one of them, he could lure the rest of them to follow him and then he would be able to face them in a suitable area where he could then duel them one by one. ¡®Now or never, will be a good time to act.¡¯ Raicer sprang into action, heading the left of his direction. He was sprinting at full tilt by the time the surprised inquisitors reacted, pausing their chanting dogma, they started their chase for him. ¡®Too late.¡¯ Raicer thought, fifteen paces away. Running towards the left Inquisitor ahead of him, Raicer prepared for the upcoming violence. The inquisitor was ready for him though, with an on-guard stance, his half-sword at his ride sight and it¡¯s point reaching the grey skies. Raicer ready with a surprise--hurls the Inquisitor sword with his injured arm, ten paces away from the Inquisitor. It was an odd stratagem at first, but he needed to surprise his upcoming opponent. Sadly it did not work, the Inquisitor not budging from his spot--calmly parried the hurled sword to the side with a clang. Unfettered, Raicer purposely stumbles into a roll¡ªfive paces in front of the Inquisitor. He closed the distance between them with his roll. Raicer then exited from his improvised roll, the Inquisitor redirected his front parrying form to guard his bottom, but he was a moment too slow. Raicer with a piercing upper thrust of his steel point punching through the circular metal rivets of chainmail and into the tender flesh of the Inquisitor. Raicer pushes his rapier deeper, driving the steel into the man¡¯s guts. He then avoided overhead strike the Inquisitor was countering with. Raicer release the pommel of his rapier that was lodged in the belly of the man, not tarrying any longer, he decided to leave it in there. Raicer twists his body to the side of the kneeling form of the dying inquisitor to run past him. With the other inquisitor nearly at his back, he continued onwards. The plated inquisitors increased their clambering pace¡ªafter seeing one of their brethren fall to a fatal and excruciating wound. Raicer got a second wind from his earlier action. With death behind him, he continued his sprinting pace away from the dying inquisitor. Raicer took a quick gander back, checking if he had lured them away from his unconscious brother. Only seeing two that was chasing him, the first one who hailed them was slowly and steadily heading towards his slumbering brother. ¡®Curse Regis.¡¯ Raicer cursed. Raicer slowed his sprinting, considering his thoughts to run back past the two inquisitors that were behind him and stopping the first inquisitor that was currently heading towards his little brother. A crunching sound of bone snapping pierced the silent rush of the scene. Raicer halted his thoughts and movements¡ªsearched for the distinct noise, he then saw it, he stumbling back a pace from the flesh and bones being munched upon 30 paces away from him¡­ A near hairless deformed creature was crouching down near barely naked corpse. The size of the creature was 7 feet, it was huge compared to the average man. The pink flesh of the creature, contorted as if wriggling worms were nestled within. The eyes were pale in its blankness, as it continued to grotesquely chew on a morsel of flesh, the arm of the half-eaten corpse. The creature was staring at them, with not a care in the world, as it continued its munching. At that moment, that grotesque moment in time, recognition shatters Raicer¡¯s thoughts. ¡®No...It cannot be? Rohan? Rohan Reshant?¡± The blank depths of Rohan¡¯s eyes were monitoring the paused Raicer with growing anticipation. The abomination halted its non-lucid monotone feast of the decapitated arm. The clanging sounds of steel clinking behind Raicer went still--with that the tension in the air intensified by the presence of the inquisitors behind Raicer. ¡°As such, as is.¡± A calm and gruff voice of the Inquisitor intones. ¡°It¡¯s-it¡¯s the second abomination!¡± A younger voice interjects, next to the gruff Inquisitor. ¡°Sir, we got to inform Cell Inquisitor Rathgar-¡± The younger Inquisitor requested. ¡°-No time lad. We can¡¯t leave our backs to that abomination. We fight it and the other.¡± The gruff Inquisitor grunted. ¡®Oh Regis, they are real¡­¡¯ Raicer steps a pace back from the abomination. Rohan was a snob and a braggart, someone who envied Raicer¡¯s position in the 98th Regiment of the Red. ¡®Was the curse the inquisitors spouted-true? Are the nobles cursed? Am I cursed?¡¯ No time for deep philosophizing Raicer thought, he needed to get to his brother before he gets murdered by one of the Inquisitors. The young inquisitor behind him was still gawking at the fiend who was frozen, staring at them. Raicer, no other choice but take the moment, spun his whole body around and sprinted back towards the two inquisitors who were staring at his action with consternation. ¡®It¡¯s a funny life.¡¯ Raicer thought with humor. The gruff Inquisitor stood in front blocking Raicer¡¯s path he was ready to swing his half sword the moment Raicer got close to him. Raicer with the momentum of his sprint twisted aside at the last moment. Raicer miss-calculated how fast the slash from the gruff inquisitor motion, barely pivoting away with a deep cut on his left side. The lacerating sting gave a life of pain adrenaline to Raicer, motivating him to move faster so he could avoid further more swings as he ran pass by Inquisitor. Blood was trickling down his officer¡¯s coat, out from his recently deep wound. The pain was unbearable, after the spark of adrenaline past, fatigue and pain were all he could feel at that moment. Raicer stumbled slightly to the left as he continued his jog towards the direction of his brother. He did not think he would make it in time, or alive at all, but he had to for his mother and father, for his little brother, Raicer had to. The gruff Inquisitor did not chase Raicer when he went past him, instead, all his focus was the abomination that was running on all fours towards him. The younger Inquisitor swivel his head to the back of Raicer¡¯s form than at the four-legged abomination that heading for them. The abomination¡¯s core desire was to feast, feast the flesh of everything it could find; the utter gluttony of it was all it dreamed. ¡°Oh, thy Mother protect me.¡± The young inquisitor shakily prayed. He then exposed his back to the gruff Inquisitor and began to run at full tilt-away from the corrupted fiend. The gruff Inquisitor seeing the young inquisitor action, cursed under his breath, he then ready himself to valiantly face the approaching creature. ¡°Thy heart hafts chosen, thy life haft thy meaning, for thy curse will fall to my devotion. As such, as is.¡± The gruff man intoned. ¡®The bravery of one''s faith is gravely one¡¯s fate.¡¯ Raicer poetically thought. Raicer''s running pace was halved by his bleeding side. He needed distance, but the blood loss made his light heavy and his feet dragging. Raicer then heard a muffled shout behind him, luckily it was a distance away, he had hope. He also had hope that the Inquisitor had killed abomination. Running and fighting Inquisitors sounds crazy, but doable-but fighting that monster with his rapier in hand, he dreaded it was impossible. ¡®Soldier on, soldier on, keep your head close to the ground.¡¯ It was a poem Raicer wrote in the first few weeks of his military career. Maybe it was the adrenaline or the final clarity of the last moments; for him to understand that he was never a soldier, but a poet in heart; but the world is cruel, beggars can''t be choosers. Nearly to his limits, he finally stumbled onto the ground. Kneeling, with eyes blurry, Raicer saw it. The first inquisitor¡¯s swordpoint was at the neck of his unconscious brother. Raicer held out a shout. He was out of breathing, light-headed and fatigue. Gripping his bleeding side, he continued upwards onto his feet. Clutching his wounds, adding pressure to it-halting further bleeding. The Inquisitor turns to the commotion that was Raicer, who was unsteadily standing. ¡°Like fables of old...A valiant brother¡¯s love was all for naught.¡± The first Inquisitor states, directing the point his half-sword towards Raicer¡¯s younger brother¡¯s neck. ¡°For a holy order, your actions make you and your men appear like lowest of denigrates. Thy, haft, thus...You do not need to pretty your words when you commit horror.¡± Raicer spat out. Like before, the Inquisitor before him unnerved him. This civil war, nobles wanting to be kings, monsters, and men, it was all tiring to Raicer. He was so...tired of it all...or maybe it was the blood loss? The Inquisitor, acting his age, frown down upon the younger man¡¯s rebuke. Out of sincerity or mercy, or what-ever a murdering Inquisitor consider--he nodded to Raicer than lifted his sword-point away from his brother¡¯s neck. No words to speak, the Inquisitor step forward towards Raicer. The inquisitor froze, at a motion behind Raicer. He was glaring over Raicer, his face was contorted in disgust and antipathy towards the unholy being at Raider¡¯s back. Raicer with creeping horror swiveled his head back to an injured and loping Rohan, running on all fours, slightly limping but still crippling its way towards them at a surging pace. Raicer gawking at the visage before him, the grotesque nature and the eerie semblances of Rohan made him nearly want to hurl his stomach. The abomination exterior was layered with pink bloating flesh, ivory human bones were protruding out from the malformity. It was like a fleshy reptile, haphazard bones disjointed everywhere on its body. The Inquisitor flourish his half-sword into the sky, pressing the rain-guard towards his grim lips.¡± Thy heart haft chosen, thy life hafts thy meaning for thy curse will fall to our devotion. As such, As is.¡± The inquisitor mantras out with holy zealous. The man was like a knight of old, a stone man, adamant against the wave. The Inquisitor, preparing for the inevitable, dropped his sword-point to the earth with his right foot pivoted in a practice sword stance. The abomination, unflinching, continued it onwards approaches towards the Inquisitor. Like a steel python, springing out, the Inquisitor lashes out his half-sword into a practiced arc. The Inquisitor seems to Raicer, a practiced man, a true professional of his trade. If anything was learned from what Raicer had experience today, was that the courage of men is on all sides. The Inquisitor neatly sliced off the abomination¡¯s arm, then twisted to the side to avoid the tackle. The monster stumbled to the side, knocking the Inquisitor off his sols at the creature sway in a painful frenzy. The Inquisitor on his back, the abomination took it¡¯s chance and grappled with the Inquisitor with his only arm. In the hustle, the Inquisitor¡¯s half-sword sprang out from his hand and into the mist air. The sword hurls past, landing near Raicer. A top the Inquisitor, the abomination with his remaining arm, grip the man¡¯s shoulders and took a huge bite through the chainmail of the Inquisitor¡¯s attire. The Inquisitor trying with his steel gauntlets, yet failing to pull the abomination¡¯s head from tearing his neck and shoulders apart. Sprays of blood and squelches of flesh flying were only Raicer¡¯s view of the Inquisitor beneath the horror. ¡®The Inquisitor won¡¯t be clapping his gauntlets now.¡¯ Raicer darkly thought. The Inquisitor looks done for, without any aid Raicer was sure the man would succumb to the abomination¡¯s frenzied hunger. ¡®Damn it¡¯ Raicer cursed himself, why was he just standing there gawking like a shy moon-eyed boy. He needed to act, if not now, then never. Remembering the half-sword that was zooming past him earlier, Raicer acted. Searching at the direction the sword was hurled at, he spotted a spear lodged inside the entrails of a soldier, 10 paces away. ¡®Curse it.¡¯ Cursing himself, Raicer lightly steps forward towards the spear. Raicer took hold of the spear shaft and pulled. Bursting stomach entrails and sounds of squelches muscles was his reward. ¡®This will the last ludicrous deed I will ever commit.¡¯ Raicer pivoted his body with the spearhead in front, he paused his fraying thoughts for the moment, the briefest of moments. ¡®Soldier on, Raicer¡­¡¯ Taking a deep breath, it could be one of his last breaths, he soldiered on. With a burst of the last of his depleting energy, he sprang forward, shouting for all he was practically worth. Raicer punched the spear into the back torso of the abomination, driving it so deep that the spearhead metal clanged with the breastplate of the thrashed Inquisitor. The creature scream in utter horror and pain at that moment. In a frightful few seconds, Raicer steps back from the Creature that was fidgeting and screaming from the lodged spear in its torso. They were not death cries of a dying animal, Raicer thought, but righteous indignation of one. The abomination could not do anything to the spear inside of it, instead, he focuses his rage at Raicer, who startled back at the monster¡¯s pale glare. The abomination¡¯s bone riddled arm took a swing at Raicer, too fast to avoid, Raicer was careened off his feet and into the air. He landed with a thump in the soil and blood of the earth. Blinking thrice, he ganders the ground around him. Raicer heard a low breathe of someone in deep slumber, turning to the sound, his face terrified. It was his brother, several paces away from Raicer¡¯s pruned form. Raicer, grasping the soil with his worn fingers, palm the earth to push himself up from the muck. Hearing the thumps and despoiled earth, Raicer turn his head to the noise. It was the abomination, spear lodged, one armed was running three-legged towards them. ¡®¡°Fuck, Regis!¡± Raicer cursed the god of his fatherland. He felt helpless now, no weapon to bear against the behemoth, nothing he could do. A glimmer of steel caught his eye. Raicer swayed his head towards that sparkle. It was the Inquisitor half-sword, the sword was buried point first into the dirt and brush. It was only a few arm''s lengths away from him. Raicer¡¯s felt pain all over his body, from the sols to his feet to the lightness of his head. ¡®Bloodlost¡¯ Raicer cursed Regis again. The gleam of the metal pommel brought him up crawling, towards the only chance to survive this day. Just a few more paces, just a few more, and he will be able to get it. ¡®Soldier on! Soldier on!¡¯ his mind kept screaming at him. For his brother, for his mother, for his father--he has to get that sword. Raicer finally, clutching the pommel of the half-sword, he drew it from the earth at the moment the abomination sprang out into the air to collide onto him. As fast as Raicer could humanly swing, he slashes the air, decapitating the head of the abomination before him. The decapitated head was hurled several paces away while its body landed lifelessly on to Raicer¡¯s prone form. The body spasm at contact, Raicer with disgusted panic, threw the body away from him with the last of his depleted strength. Taking a gander at the scene before him, he took the greatest sigh of relief he could have ever uttered. A dying chuckle woke Raicer up. He fell asleep, why did his body fell so light, everything felt hazy and draggy to Raicer. Swaying his head to the distinct chuckle, he spots the Inquisitor resting against a broken rock with sparse and crumpled vegetation around him. ¡®Why was the man laughing?¡± Raicer wondered. He scrutinizes where the Inquisitor was joyously staring at. Panic and dread shattered Raicer¡¯s relief to zero. The abomination lodged off arm was currently and quickly crawling towards the body Raicer recently shoved off. He was now truly, utterly frightened, the absolute nature of this abomination, the defining nature of his death. A squelch, made him turn. It was the dislodged head, twitching and rolling it forms towards the abomination¡¯s body as well. Cursing Regis once more, he mustered the remaining energy he had and stumbled up onto his drenched sols. The Inquisitor, seeing Raicer awake and standing, halted his further chuckles. ¡°Boy.¡± The man coughed out, with a spray of blood. ¡°--Pierce the heart! Pierce it boy¡­¡± The wound of the dislodged arm that was currently fingering its way forward towards Raicer and the spasming body, began to grow out small tendrils of flesh. Raicer had no choice but to move and stop this monstrosity to what-ever, what-ever this abomination is doing. Clutching the pommel of the half-sword, he limped his way towards the spasming torso. ¡°Pierce the heart¡­¡± The mother must have really loved this Inquisitor, to have kept him breathing for so long. Raicer taking another deep sigh planted the tip of the sword onto the heart of the torso. The thought being close to this monstrosity sent spines of shivers down his injured back. Raicer shoved. For whatsoever reasons the squirming wriggling body parts, suddenly cease, deflating from his shoved blow. The Inquisitor took a long wheezing to breathe, coughing slightly, still miraculously alive. ¡°As such...As is, A brother¡¯s love has no bounds.¡± The Inquisitor murmured. Raicer lightly swiveled his head towards the grounded Inquisitor. ¡°It was all for naught¡­¡± Raicer grunted, clutching his side that was profusely bleeding. The wound on Raicer side opened wider for more channels of blood to stream down his uniform. His head felt light, his mind was clouded, as if he was falling into grey skies. ¡°My father would have been proud.¡± Raicer finally said, admitting the memory of his parents on the back of his mind. Thinking of his family, he searched the grounds for his unconscious brother. Raicer, taking his last few steps, he knelt down near his brother¡¯s dying form. Gully''s face was distorted with horrible dreams as he sleeps. His brother was so innocent to Raicer, he did not think his brother even pulled the trigger on his rifle, during the battle. Placing his hand on his brother¡¯s sweaty brows, brushing his dark-brown hair away from his sweat-drenched face. His brother¡¯s forehead felt hot with a fever. Gully barely opens his lids to Raicer, he was still half asleep to the world. ¡°Rai? Is that you? Rai?¡± Gully drowsily inquires. Raicer grip his brother¡¯s hand then squeeze. ¡°Yeah, it¡¯s me.¡± Raicer tiredly said. ¡°That¡¯s good...That''s good.¡± His brother murmured, closing his half-lidded eyes asleep. Liquid salt began to wet the lids of Raicer¡¯s eyes. The thought of losing his brother from the world, a world without his nearsighted brother, tightens his heart. ¡°Hush Gully...Go to sleep¡­The medicas are here¡­¡± Raicer holding his cry in his mouth lied. Tears unbidden began its sliding coarse down Raicer¡¯s checks, as he gazes down upon his unconscious brother. ¡°A brother¡¯s love has no bounds...boy. Be grateful, he won¡¯t see you become an abomination¡­¡± The Inquisitor sighed out. Raicer with teary eyes swivels his head towards the man with a curse in his mouth but halted at his pale visage. ¡°I¡¯ll be going to thy Mother now...I¡¯ll be waiting, Lad...I¡¯ll be waiting¡­¡± The Inquisitors gleaming eyes faded, as he lay there for his final time, embracing the mother, earth, as his scriptures profess. Raicer turns back his gaze to his younger brother, he remembers the moments he first saw his brother, clutched in his mother¡¯s arms, the moments he pranked his brother, his brother¡¯s morphing into embarrassment. His brother was dying now, and also he is, the lightness of his head informed him that he is. ¡®Will I turn into an abomination like Reshant?¡¯ Raicer thought. ¡®Will I turn to my brother¡¯s body when I turn and consume him in me?¡¯ The thought sickened him. But he could not do anything about it. ¡®What is it to matter.¡¯ They were both going to die anyway, it did not matter what would happen after. For all he was worth, Raicer glared across the godforsaken battlefield, the rage and bitterness he felt about their upcoming deaths. He ganders towards the broken Inquisitor, embraced to the earth, at the abomination¡¯s deformed torso, head, and lifeless arm. Raicer halted his nearly blank stare. He swivels his head back to the dislodged arm, staring at it, like a poet with his words. Raicer gazes down his brother¡¯s unconscious form. Eyes stinging from the salt of unbidden tears. He readied himself on what he must do. ¡°Soldier on...Soldier on, keep my heart...close to the ground.¡± ~:\| Chapter 2 |/:~
¡°The Relcian plague which was a contagious outbreak that occurred during 2610 TE (Triumvirate Era), center of the Regalian Kingdom. Unlike the Gratorian epidemic of 2446 TE, The Relcian contagion spread through consumption of contaminated liquid. The plague was primarily spread through the Cartesian Rivers, which crosses into the main provinces of the Regalian Kingdom from the Northern Frontier of the Continent Artaos. The epidemic killed roughly two-hundred thousand Regalian citizens during the time of 2610 TE to 2614 TE. It was determined to have spread to the Marcian borders, but fortuitously due to the steadfast assistance from Clergymen of Holy Rhaodian Empire and the Medicas of Regalia, the epidemic was chiefly contained by quarantining towns, villages, and cities near the source of the contamination...¡± -----------Journal Entry #27 Radolf Almata.
¡°Blue¡­? Honey?¡± A familiar feminine voice peels through the subconscious mind of a young boy, who was sat up sleeping on a wooden bench in a hallway of a two-story building. The boy blurrily rubs his eyes to focus, reckoning to recognize the voice that was calling him. He had an odd dream of red smoke and dead things living. His eerie thoughts of his imaginings made him sat up straighter. ¡®Spooky¡­¡¯ ¡°Blue? Where is my boy?¡± The same familiar voice calls out again... Recognition hits his frazzled thoughts, the voice that was calling him, was his mother.. ¡®But why?¡¯ The boy thought. Why was his mother calling him...? ¡°Oh right!¡± The young boy, barely over five, bolted up the tall wooden stairs, up to the second story, than jaunted towards his parent¡¯s chambers. The boy could now recall what and why his mother was calling him. His mother went fat for some strange and frustrating reason, he could not recall but now though, she was going to lose it and become skinny again, and what that would mean, is that she will finally able play with him now; like before. Excited, the boy with grubby fingers nudge the chamber door open, pushing through a sight of red stains, white fabric, and smelly smells. The musky odor of the room nearly made him puke his greens he had this morning onto the wooden flooring. ¡®Well sooner the better.¡¯ he smarmily thought, anyways--he never did like his greens. The boy was gawking at the visage that was before him of aunt Carol who was hovering over his mother which was sat up with pillows on the woolen bed, that was dripping down sweat into a puddle underneath. His mother was holding a small bundle of cloth in her arms when she noticed him. The boy sighed in exaggerated relief when he saw that his mother did not look so fat anymore, though she did look similar to grandma, awhile back when he last time saw her. He could not remember why, but both looked eerily similar to each other--with similar ghostly pallet and sweaty tired brows, as if his mother and grandma carried a surplus of grey stones in their pockets every day, to prove they can. ¡°Come boy--have a look at your new brother.¡± Aunt Carol griped, strict and dower as always. ¡®New brother?¡¯ The boy wondered. What new brother--how can a brother be new? Did they buy a brand new him? The boy''s thoughts were jumbled by his aunt¡¯s odd request, but nonetheless, he hesitantly steps forward to where she was glancing. As he passed her, he saw a happy expression from her dower face. ¡®She never looks at me with that face.¡¯ Facing the bundle that his mother was holding; a small sibilant cry came bawling out of the fidgeting bundle. ¡°Just like his father.¡± Aunt Carol smiled warmly down at. ¡®Whos just like his father?¡¯ The boy thought, enviable. Finally seeing what was inside the woolen blanket, the boy¡¯s eyes widen. It was a very small-small boy, smaller than he was to be in fact. The baby boy was bawling out his cries as if the attention of the world should primarily be on his little shoulders. Now the boy felt like instinctively crying right now--from all the bawling that baby was doing. ¡°Now-now Blue, don¡¯t you go crying too.¡± His mother swarmingly scowls, her eyes weary red by her fatigue. ¡°I¡¯m not crying.¡± The boy lied, tearing up slightly at thought of it. ¡°Isn¡¯t he beautiful? Green eyes... just like his father.¡± His mother soothes, snuggling her cheek onto the crying baby¡¯s chubby face. The boy did not think the boy was beautiful, to be in fact, he thought the boy was ugly, with its chubby face, and balding head. ¡®How can you be beautiful--if you don¡¯t have any hair.¡¯ His mother¡¯s taste of what she considered beautiful, is very odd; the boy thought. But to be honest, he did envy his baby brother¡¯s green eyes. His father had similar green eyes, unlike his brother, which were glass, his father¡¯s eyes were piercing like hawks on the scent. His father could stare him down to stillness sometimes when the boy did something wrong. His mother¡¯s eyes were brown like meadow bark in autumn light. The boy had neither his parent''s eye colors, which had aggravated him during his small lifetime. Now as he gazes down at the little baby before him with similar eyes like his father, he felt alien to his family. ¡®I wonder if I could borrow them?¡¯ The boy cleverly thought. ¡°What¡¯s the boy¡¯s name?¡± The boy gingerly inquires. He needed to know the baby¡¯s name before he could ask the baby to borrow his eyes for a bit, or better yet trade eyes so he could look more like his father, instead of this chubby, bold baby-boy. ¡°Your father isn¡¯t home yet to give him a name.¡± His mother coons, gently stroking the baby boy¡¯s head so lovingly. ¡®I want a rub too.¡¯ He thought. ¡°For now, you can call him Green--like how I call you Blue.¡± His mother smiled with mirth. ¡®Darn it!¡¯ The young boy cursed in his thoughts, he could not curse in front of his mother and get his father in trouble; besides how is he going to trade eyes with the baby now... If he manages to get the baby¡¯s green eyes, does that mean he¡¯d be called Green? This was all too confusing for the young boy. Trying to puzzle out his puzzled thoughts and plans--his mother suddenly halted her cooning. The scene before the young boy, suddenly and haltingly froze. The baby¡¯s constant crying was gone, the open breeze of the curtains blowing was still, all was stilled in motion. An angry eerie voice voiced out from his mother. ¡°Why...Blue? Why¡­.Blue? Why didn¡¯t you protect him?¡± Accusation and blood were gushing out from her mouth as she accused him. The accusing glare his mother gave the boy, made him stand frozen to the utter rage that was burning inside his mother¡¯s once comforting brown eyes. ¡°I did, mother...I did?¡± The boy stammered. The baby¡¯s bald head mechanically swivels to face the young boy who was now frightened of how alien and horrifying the scene before him. ¡°Why didn¡¯t you save me, brother?¡± ¡°I did, I-I did, I promised! I did!¡± Blood began to pour out the boys eyes and mouth, blood was pouring out everywhere. From aunt Carol and her stern visage to the wooden flooring to the white woolen fabrics of the bedding. Blood was everywhere. Gulcasa green eyes fluttered open to shadowed lights. The dream he just dreamt, sent tingling chills down his spine and agony through his left arm. Where was he? What was that dream he just dream? And where were his glasses? Bubbling questions were zig-zagging across his mind, puzzling him further into panic. Gulcasa began to struggle up, but could not. He felt confined by something. ¡°What in Regis¡¯s Name?¡± He cursed out loud. The dream was still confusing his thoughts, but why couldn¡¯t he move. So many questions, so many thoughts, he felt he was a hot cauldron with everything put in and nothing coming out. Did you know this story is from Royal Road? Read the official version for free and support the author. A saving thought crossed Raicer''s mind--his brother, Raicer. His brother would have known what was happening to him. ¡°Rai...Rai? Bro? Are you there?¡± He questioned the confusing sounds of his surroundings. Nobody approach, no words but only the silent haze of cluttering noises that greeted him. A piercing ring soared conscious mind through his audible senses. Gulcasa trying but failing to shake the pulsating noise out from his head by swaying himselffrom side to side. Everything within Gulcasa''s body felt so irritated and pained-especially his left arm,it was so pain-inducing that unbearable for him to breathe. The constant twitching fromGulcasa''s left arm didn¡¯t help either. Gulcasa instinctively jostling himself by bouts of spasms, stretching the leather straps that were confining him. Gulcasa''s earlobes were racketing his composure, his arms were twitching against the leather straps that were holding him and his entire body. He felt so pained yet angry from his confusing thoughts. He needed his brother, his brother would know what to do, what was going on, what on anything. He just needed his older brother. Gulcasa tried to grasp any sense of self-control with his body, with what he thought of the mental instructions his father gave his brother and himself when facing head trauma. ¡®Close your eyes and count to fifty.¡¯ He whispered his mind to do. Concentrating his focus, the pulsating noise from his earlobes began to dissipate, echoing pain leaving his tormented mind apart. The sounds of moaning and several other things began prevalent to his senses. There were sobbing, snoring, coughing and wheezing-it was all so...confounding. Opening his eyes slowly allowed him to finally see his surroundings before him, without all the confusing thoughts and pain from his body and mind. Was he in an infirmary? ¡°Toadstools¡± He cursed under his breath, without his glasses he useless. He could not know where he was, but judging from the noise and the hazy image, his green eyes deign to show, he surmised that he was in someone¡¯s infirmary, but whose? So many questions were crossing through his thoughts, as he turns his head side to side on his cot. Gulcasa glimpsed another cot by his side. The image of the person on the cot was hazy, but he could tell by the white grey haze of that person, that he was entirely bandaged all over. He was asleep which was a shame to Gulcasa, he really wanted some answers. He idiotically tried to lift himself up again to sit up but was barred down by the leather straps confining his body to the sheets. ¡°Ah shite¡­¡± He cursed, deflating into the uncomfy cot below him. Gulcasa finally relented to giving up his quest at that moment to find answers to what was going on. Gulcasa tried to remember the last time he awoke to the world. His brother was telling him that the Medicas has finally come and that everything was going to be alright. Feeling his shoulders sagging tired, Gulcasa slightly and hazily doze off into empty slumber. Gingerly waking up from a voice, Gulcasa fluttered his eyes open. A kindly old voice was talking to someone on a cot near him. He could not make out their conversation from his drowsy thoughts but could presume that this should be the medicas that were treating them in this hazy hospice. The man, garmented in hazy white walk passed Gulcasa¡¯s cot to check another patient. Gulcasa rasp out barely illegible garble to spark the man¡¯s attention. The man turned to the sound and approach the confined Gulcasa. ¡°You¡¯re awake?¡± The elderly man says, surprised. ¡°Yes..¡± Gulcasa affirm, about famish and thirsty, he requested ¡°Water...please?¡± The elderly man nodded, took a jug of water from a table near his cot and pour the nuzzle down Gulcasa opened mouth. After taking a few more gulps, the elderly man placed back the jug back down the near table and judged Gulcasa in silent contemplation. ¡°Who are you?¡± Gulcasa rasped out. ¡°I am the medicas of this fair hospice, my young lad. Medicas Doctor Radolf Almata of Cai¡¯arnbridge. It¡¯s a pleasure to meet you¡­?¡± ¡°Gully...ah--Gulcasa Lacea.¡± Gulcasa stuttered. He felt slightly embarrassed of the nickname his brother gave him but pressed on his informal introduction. ¡°I would shake your hand, but I''m in a bit of a bind at the moment.¡± He snarkily said. ¡°Oh, pardon me, young lad. But when they brought you in, your whole body was convulsing quite frantically, Lad. So, my fellow Medicas and I had to bind you into the cot, so you could not fall into the ground and damage yourself any further.¡± Medicas Radulf said, severely. A thought races through Gulcasa mind of his brother Raicer. ¡°My brother? Was he the one who brought me in?¡± Gulcasa inquired, he presumed that his brother was the one who brought him here. ¡°I don¡¯t know about that young lad. You were brought in by the perimeter soldiers who were guarding the camps.¡± Medicas Radulf informed. ¡°My brother? Wait¡­.Whose camp is this?¡± Gulcasa hesitantly ask. ¡°This is the lord Baron Recrest of Registrar... young lad, no need to worry yourself.¡± Gulcasa took a relieved sigh at the news. He considered that he was in the Renfort¡¯s Military camp, but thank Regis, he was in the army where he was enlisted with his brother. ¡°Doctor, do you know where my brother went off to?¡± ¡°Your brother?¡± ¡°Yes. My brother is an Officer of the 98th Regiment of the Red.¡± Gulcasa announced proudly. The Medicas face paled at the name of the Regiment. ¡°The 98th¡­¡± He murmured, glancing away from Gulcasa¡¯s proud look. Gulcasa lifting an eyebrow as he notices the Medicas dower mood. ¡°Why is there a problem? My brother is Captain Raicer Lacea--¡± ¡°--I¡¯m sorry, lad.¡± ¡°Sorry for what?¡± Gulcasa inquired with brows drawn. ¡°From what I heard, and what is confirmed now¡­is that¡­¡± ¡°Is what?¡± ¡°You are the only survivor from the 98th Regiment of the Red.¡± The Medicas informed gingerly. ¡°No...you are wrong, my Brother was the one who brought me here. I wouldn¡¯t be here otherwise.¡± Gulcasa with growing consternation replied. ¡°Lad¡­¡± ¡°My brother must have not told you that he was from the 98th.¡± ¡°Lad¡­¡± ¡°What!?¡± Gulcasa frustrated with the Medicas information, burst out. The Medicas, timidly brushing his brow with his wrinkle hand said stoically. ¡°You were brought it by the perimeter guards, who had happened to have to stumble upon you near the camp.¡± Gulcasa mystified said. ¡°What about my brother? Wasn¡¯t he here there? I could have sworn--¡± ¡°--It was just you, Lad¡­It was just you...¡± Radulf gloomily confirms. Gulcasa denying the Radulf¡¯s words, begun to shake his head. He tried to desperately unscramble he befuddle memories of the battlefield and aftermath of the said battlefield; but could not for the life of him, untangled his frayed mind. ¡®Rai¡­Rai¡­¡¯ Gulcasa still searching for any memories he could find of Raicer in the said battlefield. The thought of his brother, a man who fought tooth and nail for his officership, a brave and heroic figure, lost in the mountains of bodies the battlefield wrought¡­ Gulcasa took a stubborn grunt with a sense of solid faith of his brother that he was alive, against the fraying realization of his mind. He mentally stood up to his doubts with a newfound optimism for his brother. Radolf seeing Gulcasa appearance of feigning stability nodded his head to the boy with a sign of admirations; for how he took his brother¡¯s death. ¡°Well...Lad, I¡¯ll leave you be for a while. People should have their moment to grieve for the fallen, as such, as is¡­¡± A sudden memory spiraled into Gulcasa¡¯s head. He was on a battlefield, his side was injured. He had a rapier on his right hand and a half-sword with an odd foreign crest on its pommel. He felt tired, so very tired, yet focused on what he should do. ¡°As such, As Is.¡± Three men garb in blurry steel plate, marched to him with the intent for violence. The memory fades out from Gulcasa eyes, as he watches Radolf back, walking away past the blurry boundary of his vision. Trying to unscramble the memory he has no recollection of having, he tried yet fail to unravel his more than fraying thoughts. ¡®Am I going insane?¡¯ Gulcasa horrifyingly thoughtto himself. Another sudden memory spiraled into Gulcasa¡¯s head, the irony taste of blood on his lips and a huge bleeding gash on his sides. He felt that he was going to die at that moment. The dribble of blood, spark an awareness he did not know he had. Through all the pain and tiredness he felt, the blood was plastered all over his thoughts. Alien symbols began to pop into the corner of his peripheral vision, like old paper prints stamping into his skull. The symbols were red which were contrasted by the blur of his vision of the background that was before him.
{User: ? ? ? ? 001¡­ Host Corruption} {Class Rank: ? ? ? ? 001} {Strength: 12 +} {Constitution: 11 +} {Dexterity: 12 +} {Intelligence: 15 +}{Perception: 8 +} {Stat Points: 73 +}
~:\| Chapter 3 |/:~
¡°The Regalian Royal Tragedy of 2509 TE, was known as the greatest calamity that had befallen the continent of Trifecta. There was only one eyewitness account who had witnessed the wholesale murder of the Regalian Royal line, it was the second daughter of the countess of Refaria, a small county near the Restrata Barony. Her haphazard accounts, began with a gatheringof the peerage, not just any gathering, but a royal ball, in the extravagant high halls of the castle Regalt; situated in the prosperous city of Resaant. The island city of Resaant was the capital of Regalia, centered within the three vast rivers that crossed the Tempaar into the Split between Marcia and Rhaodia. The accounts of The now Countess continued with the heir-apparent Prince Redivad of Regalia, drew his sword and assaulted the High Councilor of the King, Registre. Who was accounted to have been the loyal childhood friend and tutor to the then King Regis. Her accounts of what followed next were more haphazard as written by the scholar who wrote her account. The Countess, of only four, who the only primary witness of the massacre of the Royal Family, the incident affected her young mind, altering mental faculties to instability--which sent her into spirals of insane bouts. Nonetheless, from what was gathered from her young recollections was that after the brutal murder of Registre, the royal guards all drew their swords and then began to massacre the Royal Family who was all gathered at the center of the ballroom. The Dukes and Duchess and most of the upper nobility who attended the extravagant event were also assaulted by their own attendants. It was the wholesale murder of those who held the blood of the nobility and those with common. How the young Countess survived this incident was vague to the point of mystery, but it has been argued that she was buried by the dead bodies of her family, hidden under the eyes of the traitors. Like a spark in a powder keg, the event blew down into the city streets of Resaant, common folks began murdering their fellows, and nobles fleeing the onslaught. The events that occurred that summer eve of 2509 TE, started the hundred-year civil war, between the barons and the lords, claiming territories of their liege lords, splitting the duchies of Regalia into five separate regions.¡± ------------Lesson Notes from Tutor Tonselwift.
Thwack! Thumping her head onto the wooden study desk that she had been currently leaning upon taught Reanna a world of lessons for her dozing, rather than the harsh rebukes she received from their tutor, the dower and grammatical Frederick Tonselwift. ¡°Lady Reanna Recrest! This is not the time for you to be dozing off again.¡± The dower man pointed. ¡°This component of your history curriculum was an essential account of how your noble heritage was ennobled.¡± The tutor Frederick fumed, with the indignation of a man who thought himself above such students. ¡°I sincerely apologize... Tutor Tonselwift...for my...tardy...and un-lady-like display, in your humble and scholarly presence.¡± Reanna drawled slyly, annoying the dower tutor further. Tonselwift huffed out loud his inflated ego to the nonchalant Reanna. Slapping the rod against the blackboard that depicted Reanna¡¯s family tree in intricates white chalk, Tonselwift continued his repetitious and downright tedious lesson on the labyrinthine history of her family. ¡°Arse¡­¡± She muttered under her breathe, behind lanky scholar¡¯s back. A sibilant snort was her only reply to her muttered words. She swirled her glare towards her brother, Regulus, who was snorting and snoring through his absent slumber. Outraged at the notion, of being scolded by the dower and lanky tutor, whilst her brother--a desk next to her was slumbering his feeble mind away. She quickly, with pleasure, prodded him awake by a firm stomping on to his unaware foot. ¡°Ow!¡± Regulus howled. ¡°-I¡¯m awake! I¡¯m awake!¡± He instinctively uttered in his panic. Reanna replied only with a grin. Tonselwift ignoring the outburst from Regulus, favorably continued his dower lesson to the class of two. Regulus rubbing the drowse of his face, glared back at his sister, who kept her shit-eating grin. ¡°Who was the last remaining relative of the Royal Regalian line, that managed to escape the Royal Regalian Tragedy of 1506 TE?¡± Tonselwift queried. When no reply was apparent, the dower tutor spun around to regard his two students. He eyed the two students, trying to scrutinize their glare with one another. He then abruptly cough, disturbing Reanna¡¯s staring match with her brother. ¡°Well?¡± Tonselwift said. ¡°Well, what?¡± Regulus replied. Tonselwift annoyed, repeated his question. ¡°Uhmm..uh..¡± Regulus on the spot dumbfoundedly slurred. Tonselwift face reddening, ready to explode like a volcano was embarrassed at his favored pupil, who tried to stutter an answer. ¡°Lady Reanna?¡± He said, ignoring the young boy¡¯s jeopardy. Now, Reanna was at the limelight. ¡®Where did I hear this?¡¯ She hastily thought. She recalled her father thanking the name of his great-grandfather when discussing a Recrant treaty several years back. Reanna recalled the hazy memory, her father just finished a meeting with Lord Recrant, where she happens to have been walking past parlor. When she saw her father, he greeted her with a grin full of mirth. She remembered running up to him to hug him, she recalled she was a lot younger than Regulus when she had this memory. ¡°Why are you so happy? Papa?¡± she inquired. ¡°I am happy, because of your great-grandfather Reinhart, who took to wife your great-grandmother, Ravera Cross.¡± ¡°What so funny about that?¡± Reanna mystified. ¡°It¡¯s because your great-grandmother was a bastard descendant of the Royal Regalian Line, which is very fortunate for us on our claimant the throne.¡± ¡°What¡¯s a throne?¡± Her father took a deep long sigh, not wanting to get into specifics with her. ¡°Do you not want to be a Princess?¡± he ended her prodding questions with a question which she squealed at delight too. ¡®Yes, that was it!¡¯ She excitedly thought. Thwack, the rod from Tonselwift slapped against her desk for her attention. Back from her memories, she recalled the question again and then announce the answer. ¡°Ravera Cross.¡± She stated. Tonselwift, huffing to continue her answer for, was interrupted when Reanna continued. ¡°-Who married my great grandfather Reinhart Recrest, who was heir-apparent to the Count of Recrest.¡± She proudly stated. Tonselwift abashedly stuttering said. ¡°Thank you, but you missed the part where Ravera Cross was a bastard child of Prince Redivad and his mistress, Lady Shae of Raiport. Reanna proud smile turns into a frown at Tonselwift add-on correction. ¡®Couldn¡¯t he let her have this one.¡¯ Reanna gripped. Her brother Regulus spun his head towards her and smarmily smirked at her. Reanna''s face reddens with outrage at the rebuke, began to lift her hand up to slap the red freckles off her brother¡¯s stupid face. Similar to her, they both had red flocking locks, curled and silky smooth, Reanna was about to smack her younger brother of thirteen back to his place. Tonselwift, instinctively knowing that they were not listening to his lecture, turn himself around to scrutinize the two redheaded nobles, again. Observing the way Reanna was about to smack the sur-grinning Regulus, Tonselwift hollered. ¡°Lady Reanna Recrest of Registrar!¡± Dropping her arms, Reanna quickly faces the huffing Tonselwift. ¡°Yes, Tutor?¡± she said shyly. ¡°Your brother will become the next Baron, Lady Reanna. So you should not antagonize him any further.¡± Reanna shy smile turns into an outraged frown. She knew that her brother will become baron one day, for only the male line to attain the head seat of their house in the peerage. She had been told this constantly, even though she was the elder, she understands that she will never hold any true position of power amongst the peerage but to only be cattle to be sold to the highest and noblest bidder. Reanna knew this, but she doesn¡¯t have to be happy about it. ¡°Now apologize to your brother and me for the interruption,¡± Tonselwift demanded. Outraged at the notion, she was about to curse them to the flooring but held her self from bursting out. ¡®Stupid, I should be patience, or mother would be scolding me all night.¡¯ Reanna thought whilst taking a deep sigh. ¡°I apologize for disrupting and to my little brother for my un-lady-like behavior,¡± Reanna grunted. Regulus replied with his insidious shit-eating grin. ¡°Yes, very un-lady-like, and I will be informing your father of your blatant tardiness.¡± Tonselwift nodded. Annoyed, Reanna said. ¡°Could you please repeat the last fifteen minutes of the lesson, Tutor Tonselwift. Because of my un-lady-like actions, I did not pay any attention whatsoever to your lessons, about the Royal Regalian Tragedy and how Duchess Refaria survive the massacre.¡± Reanna feigns with interest. Tonselwift eye twitches at the blatant request, that would annoy him further. ¡°The lady was not a Duchess, but a Countess of Refaria. And she was not Countess at that time because of her age and her parents were not yet murdered by the common rabble at the time.. .¡± ¡°Oh well, pardon my misinformed remark.¡± Reanna feigns an apology to the dower man. ¡°Add this to the reason, why you should, humbly, repeat your lesson again,¡± she advised. Regulus groaning at the idea of it, try to snicker a glare at her when looking down at the wooden flooring of the study room. Tonselwift muttering a curse, avoided eye-contact with her by turning his back, facing the blackboard. The Tutor was fuming at the audacity of the young lady, but out of decorum, closed his eyes to compose himself. Reanna speculated that Tonselwift would sometimes contemplate leaving the Recrest household, because of her. Well, it was his idea to favor the child with the prospect of being head of the Recrest estate, instead of Reanna which was considered to have lower standing to her brother. At the notion of Tonselwift view of her, Reanna clenched both her fists as she sat down to the lesson. When the midday bell rang, disturbing Reanna¡¯s planned thoughts of a way to get their Tutor Tonselwift to contemplate further to retirement. ¡°Well¡­¡± Sighing deeply ¡°-That¡¯s it for today. Because of so many interruptions of today, we will continue on this lesson, tomorrow-from the beginning.¡± Reanna and Regulus both groan at the news, and the idea of sitting through another boring lecture where Tonselwift praises the accolades of their noble house. Hours of the house of Recrest signing this, marrying whom and destroying another noble house. The thought of listening to that again left a sour taste in Reanna¡¯s mouth. Regulus stood quickly up from his seat, eager to leave the study room. He paused just a moment then turn to Tonselwift who was packing up his utensils. ¡°Tutor Tonselwift, I humbly thank you for the lecture to today.¡± Regulus bowing to the Tutor. He slightly turns his head to Reanna, showing his slight grin plastered on his sneaky face. Reanna groans again, her brother always do this. ¡®No wonder he was Tonselwift¡¯s favorite pupil, among the two of us.¡¯ She thought. ¡°Thank you young Lord Regulus, for your diligence in your studies,¡± Tonselwift said, pleased with how grateful his student Regulus was for his time. After Regulus bowed, her brother began to head out of the room, hastily. Reanna curious at her brother¡¯s excited moved left her chair and followed her. ¡°Class dismissed¡­.¡± Tonselwift said, watching gloomily at his two retreating students as he contemplates again, leaving this place behind. Regulus pacing himself excitedly out of the study room and into the inner garden courtyard, Reanna curiously following behind. Her interest was peaked at her brother¡¯s excitement and could resist following her younger brother. Following her quarry, Regulus instinctively swivel his head back to find that his sister was following him. Reanna spotted, jaunted over to her little brother as they hurry to pass the yellow solar-flares, golden yellow flowers that their mother obsessively grooms to perfection. Stepping the stone steps of the garden path, they headed towards the open bricked hallway. ¡°What¡¯s have gotten you so eager, little Reggie?¡± Reanna asked at 5¡¯7 only a few centimeters taller than her younger brother. Regulus grunted at the comment. ¡°I¡¯m not little...and I¡¯m not telling.¡± He said a bit peeved. ¡°Ah come on?¡± ¡°No¡± ¡°Fine, you are not little. Besides, you are a man, you will probably grow as tall as our father.¡± Reanna sighed, walking shoulder to shoulder with her little brother. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah, Yeah¡­¡± She said. ¡°-Well are you going to tell me now?¡± ¡°As tall as our father,¡± Regulus whispered under his breath, with awe at the idea of it. Their father was a giant of a man, at 6¡¯3 with a thick set of red beard. The Recrest family was known for their autumn red hair, it was so prevalent in their family since conception. To be honest, it was surprising to have the Royal Regalian bloodline in their noble family line, when the majority of the Royal Regalian ancestry had thick dark blue hair. Ensure your favorite authors get the support they deserve. Read this novel on Royal Road. ¡°Well¡­¡± Reanna prodded. ¡°Father and the Rhaodian dignitaries are here.¡± Regulus confided. ¡°Father and Rhaodian dignitaries, huh?¡± Reanna repeated, she pondered what the Rhaodian dignitaries doing here--whilst pacing with her brother¡¯s movement through the outer hallway and into the inner hallway. Passing the open hallway doors, the two siblings headed towards the lobby room where their family usually greets their foreign and domestic dignitaries. Reanna pondering, spotted Regulus moving further away from her. ¡°Hold on!¡± she hollered. Regulus paused to let his sister keep pace with him. ¡®What got you so excited, it¡¯s just Father and a bunch of Rhaodians that we are allied with?¡± She asked. ¡°Father just came back from the front! And also, there might be a bunch Rhaodian Knights with the Rhaodian dignitaries.¡± Regulus excitedly told. ¡°Oh that,¡± Reanna muttered. Of course, her brother would be excited, it all made sense to her now. Her brother always adores militant orders like the Holy Rhaodian Knights, an Order, with the primary objective was to slay the evil of the world. There were stories about them slaying monsters and abominations that the common folk and nobles could not ever dream of. Like the many-armed Aqrabuamelu a scorpion abomination, with multiple human hands and arms or the Hecatoncheires, a bipedal giant with multiple torsos and heads, wielding swords and mallets to kill and devour their foes. But to Reanna, they were all fables and pish-posh that would awe the mind of common folk, making their reputation more grandiose to what they actually were, a bunch of dogmatic priest wearing plate, more like their sister order the Holy Inquisitors. Deflating at the thought of seeing these so-called legends, made her slow down her pace. To be honest, though, she could not fault her little brother¡¯s worship of the Knights, for she was once awed by the stories of their heroic deeds, such as the Gratorian plague that occurred hundred years back in which the Holy Order of Knights were established. The order not yet established was sent to the Kingdom of Gratoria to quarantine and destroy the plague-riddled populace, who had turned into monstrosities that the world had never seen. Legends tell that only a dozen of Rhaodian knights came back alive, who had wielded the Holy Obsidian Swords of Thy Mother and slain the thousands of plague humans in the field of oblivion at the very feet of the Crater. After the eradication of the monstrosities, they were recognized for their valor and faith, and anointed the by Rhaodian Faith of Thy Mother, to be one of the fourth revered holy pillars of the Holy Rhaodian Empire. It was said each knight who survived the onslaught, slew hundreds of plague abominations with the steel of their Obsidian God-given swords. The Order was known across the continent of Trifecta that they were the deadliest warriors that have ever existed across Split and onwards. ¡°Why would Rhaodian Knights be guarding Rhaodian dignitaries?¡± Reanna ponders out loud. Regulus halted his movements further into the corridor that would lead them towards the lobby room. Deflating. ¡°Yeah...you are right. No Rhaodian Knights would be escorting their fellows around here. Especially, when there are no monsters around. They would probably be on a battlefield, winning honors, or saving a cursed village that is plagued by the Crater.¡± Regulus mood peaked up at the notion of his heroic and mythical figures, battling the monsters of the dark. Taking a deep sigh, Reanna put a hand around her brother¡¯s shoulder, to give him a tight squeeze. ¡°No need to fret, Reggie, there might be a chance that a Rhaodian Knight might be here to help our father,¡± Reanna suggested. ¡°Really?¡± ¡°Yeah sure... but you''ll never know if tarry here any longer.¡± She said. Unclenching her brother''s shoulder, she continues onwards with her younger brother following behind. There were two guards standing next to the entrance of the great lobby room, a room with several lounges for dignitaries and guest. One of the guards wore an uncommon attire amongst the Regalian wear. The man was garnered in black fabrics, with gold intricate patterns on the edges. A varnished steel breastplate overlayed the ensemble. The other soldier a few meters from the side of the Rhaodian guard was a loyal retainer of the Recrest Household, garb with the Recrest colors, crimson wool with golden filigree on the sides. The two guards were both holding the pommels of their rapiers, staring at one another while a loud conversation behind the closed lobby doors was progressing. ¡°Where were the Rhaodian Holy Inquisitors during the right brigade of my army?! The right brigade that was almost devastated by the Renfort¡¯s left brigade! Where were they?¡± ¡°Calm down Lord Recrest.¡± ¡°Calm down?! I lost three regiments of foot and my son from that assault! Calm down!?¡± ¡°Lord Recrest-¡± ¡°That''s Baron Recrest to you, ser!¡± ¡°Baron Recrest, as per the agreement with the Holy Father, we cannot in any way influence the battle with soldiers of Rhaodia. Only monetary and supplementary support was pre-agreed.¡± ¡°As per-agreement, huh? Your Inquisitors, who you assigned to monitor--have been acting like vultures to my men.¡± ¡°The Holy Order should be respected, Lord Baron Recrest.¡± ¡°Respected, tsk. Your so-called Holy Inquisitors degrade themselves as bloodhounds to the pope.¡± ¡°We cannot give you the specific aid that you request for, Lord Baron Recrest. If we aid you by putting Rhaodian soldiers onto the field, it might jeopardize the trifecta agreement that was signed 300 years ago.¡± ¡°My King has been dead for over ninety years. The succession to the throne is vital for the stability of Regalia.¡± ¡°I¡¯m regretful to say, but if we interfere any further, the Marcian City states might also involve themselves into backing another noble house to further this civil war.¡± ¡°Than pray tell, what is beneficial about this agreement? To marry my daughter to the third prince of your empire, yet you cannot aid us in the fields?!¡± The lobby doors slammed opened--ending the argument. Both guards step back from the loud commotion. A man in priestly black garb, stormily exits the lobby room, with a Rhaodian soldier following behind. ¡°I¡¯m not done, Mereck! Come back here!¡± A heavyset man inside the lobby room with a thick red beard yelled out. Reanna and Regulus both hid behind a pillar wall next to the open doors of the lobby. ¡°Curse this pestilence.¡± The priestly garb named Mereck cursed. The priest swivels his body to face the furious big man inside the lobby room, it was their father Rembrandt Recrest. Reanna did not want to get spotted by her father at this moment. The red rage of the Recrest was known across the land as a berserker of a man. Mereck finally noticing her father¡¯s building rage, began to prostrate himself with a stiff bow. ¡°Do not worry, Lord Baron Recrest. I will inform my superiors of your demands. You will get the troops you deserve, Lord Baron Recrest.¡± Mereck stiffly says. Her father nullified by the Rhaodian Priest words, deflated from his reddening face. ¡°If you don¡¯t mind, Lord Baron Recrest. I will take my leave now, to report to my superiors.¡± ¡°Fine, you are dismissed.¡± Her father grunted, acknowledging that Mereck was just the messenger. Turning his heels to the back of her father, Mereck sauntered past the huddle children behind the pillar. The tightness of Mereck¡¯s face told Reanna, that he was disgusted dealing with her father. ¡°Come Balic, let the pestilence rot in their valley,¡± Mereck said. The guardsman that was at his read, was colossal of a man. He was bigger than her father at nearly 7 foot, with a weight matching his figure and a slightly larger waistline. The three Rhaodian dignitaries walk past Regulus and Reanna who was still huddle behind the pillar wall. Mereck spotting the children, he paused his movements for a moment to glare at them. ¡°The offshoots of pestilence.¡± The priest muttered as he continued onwards away from the two Recrest children. The colossal man known as Balic eyed Reanna with such lechery, it sent a shiver down her spine. The malevolent intent behind those black eyes froze Reanna to her spot. Moments passed when Reanna realized that she was holding her breath. ¡°What did he mean by the ¡®offshoots of pestilence¡¯?¡± Her brother said. Reanna finally able to move, turn her head to glare at the backs of the Rhaodian men retreating within the halls. She turns her head back a little bit flustered with the red rage of her birth, to glance at her brother who was still puzzled at his query. ¡°Who cares... all I know--is that that Priest is an arse,¡± Reanna grunted. ¡°Sister, you not supposed to curse like that. It¡¯s very un-ladylike.¡± Regulus brows furrowed. ¡°Mother might scold you--¡± ¡°--Not if, you don¡¯t tell her.¡± Reanna interrupted. Regulus perk up at the idea of her getting in trouble, burst out into a sprint towards the opened lobby door. ¡®Oh for Regis sake.¡¯ Reanna cursed inside. ¡°You better not tell father!¡± ¡°Father! Father! Sister cursed again!¡± Regulus traitorously tell to a startled man. ¡°What are you children doing here?¡± Rembrandt inquired, whilst taking a running hug from his youngest son. Reanna followed behind ready to tackle her little to the ground, to pummel him good...real good. ¡°Father! I heard Sister cursed at those Rhaodians.¡± Regulus lied. Reanna didn¡¯t curse at them, she only just called one of them an arse--he didn¡¯t even hear it. Rembrandt turns his gaze towards her. ¡°What did you call them?¡± He said with harshly adamant tone. ¡°I just called the Priest an ¡®Arse¡¯¡± Reanna confessed. ¡°He didn¡¯t even hear it.¡± ¡°--I heard it!¡± Regulus fib. ¡®Definitely a good pummeling.¡¯ Reanna thought, glaring at her little brother. ¡°Ha!¡± Rembrandt''s face lightens from the notion of his little girl insulting that weasel of a man known as Mereck. Pet his son''s head who was under his arms. ¡°It¡¯s nothing to worry about, son. What your sister said was true. That man is an arse...¡± ¡°Okay¡­but, sister isn¡¯t very ladylike.¡± ¡°You are right, son. Better not tell your mother.¡± Rembrandt conspired, hugging his son one last time before he stood up to his height. Reanna took a long sigh of relief at the thought that her father agreed with her. She did envy their closeness though. Regulus was always the favorite with everyone. It¡¯s the innocence of his face that gets him adoration from the rest, like a pampered puppy with floppy ears. She remembered when she was the favorite when she was younger, and Revon, her eldest brother was the one who¡¯d envy her. Thinking of her eldest brother, she wondered what he was doing now. He was at the front with the rest of the army. The thought of her eldest brother, fighting, traveling, and soldiering, made her envy him now. Her brother studied abroad in the High Arts of Marcia, he also traveled amongst the Horse-tribe Riders that skirted across the Rhaodian plains. Out of all her siblings, she envied and adored her eldest brother Revon, the most. Now her brother is at the frontlines, a stalwart soldier to my father¡¯s dream of uniting the Regalian Kingdom and re-establishing the throne to stabilize the country from war. Thinking of war, and fighting, a thought crossed her mind. ¡°Oh no¡­¡± Reanna said out loud. Rembrandt looking at her, asked. ¡°What¡¯s the matter, daughter?¡± ¡°--I am late!¡± ¡°Late for what?¡± ¡°--Sorry Papa, I have to go.¡± ¡°Where are you going?¡± ¡°Practice!¡± Reanna hollered out loud, sprinting out of the lobby room, past the household guard and into the hallways. ¡®Curse me for a fool.¡¯ She thought, running past items of furniture and paintings of the Recrest family. Reanna glimpsing the exit, paused her pace to quickly walk out of the hallway. A gust and rustle to quick for her to react, held her against the wall. It was the Rhaodian guard Balic who had her hand on her shoulders. Her back was against the wall. He pushed his weight against her. Gripping her shoulders tightly. ¡°I have never had spoiled meat before, especially a nobly spoiled.¡± Balic leered, breath reeking of meat and alcohol. Reanna¡¯s face distorted in disgust at the odor. Her body was frozen to the colossal man¡¯s touch, she was so frightened to say a word to her abuser. ¡°Such beautiful red hair¡­¡± The man caress, brushing a lock of Reanna¡¯s red hair. Reanna still petrified at his touch, just stood there with her back against the wall, and his weight pushing against her. ¡°Don¡¯t worry, young meat...now is not the time for us to feast. For today is still young, and tomorrow is inexorable.¡± Balic whispered in her right ear. Loosening his grip, Balic stepped back to view Reanna from a pace. Looking up and down, he grinned at her frozen form. He then turned around to walk in another direction. His stomping feet were nothing to the speedy thumps of Reanna''s heartbeats. After several moments had passed, Reanna tried to compose herself. ¡®Come on...Re. You are better than this!¡¯ She thought, clenching her fingers into a shaky-fist. Aghast of the notion of being touched by Balic again made her stomach hurl. ¡®You are better than this.¡¯ She kept voicing in her mind. Putting Balic¡¯s looming warning at the back of her mind, shutting it with the force of boiling rage, Reanna continued onwards to her destination. ¡°I am better than this.¡± She said out loud. Outside in the garden courtyard, Sir Jayce Recraft was standing near the center of a grassy section of the garden. There were two wooden practice rapiers leaning against a brass garden chair. ¡°You are late, my lady.¡± ¡°I beg your pardon.¡± ¡°Given. Now let¡¯s get started, shall we my lady?¡± ¡°Can we do broadswords again?¡± ¡°Why my lady?¡± ¡°I feel like bashing something¡­¡± Jayce taking a deep sigh to Reanna¡¯s request, went back to gather two wooden broadswords. He gave one to Reanna than took a stance before her, to prepare her for the sparring match that was about to start. ¡®Never again¡­¡¯ Reanna thought about the incident before. ¡®-Never again, will I be caught off guard again.¡¯ The sparring was brutal and fierce, most of the time it was Jayce¡¯s broadsword that was getting pummelled by Reanna¡¯s furious and heavy strikes. ~:\| Chapter 4 |/:~
{User: ? ? ? ? 001¡­ Host Corruption} {Class Rank: ? ? ? ? 001} {Strength: 12 +}{Constitution: 11 +}{Dexterity: 12 +} {Intelligence: 15 +}{Perception: 8 +} {Stat Points: 73 +}
¡®What on Regis?¡¯ Gulcasa thought as the alien letters and numbers stood out in red silhouettes in contrast to his hazy vision of the hospice he was currently staying. An unknown panic seeps within Gulcasa fraying thoughts. ¡°What¡¯s going on?¡± He said. Gulcasa waved his hand in front of his face, trying to wave off the apparition before him. The alien letters continued to partly block his peripheral vision. Not working, Gulcasa could not fathom what and why was this happening to him. He just wanted it to go away, he wanted everything to go away at this point. The alien stats began to suddenly dissipate. They grudgingly faded away from Gulcasa¡¯s peripherals, as he sat there frozen on his cot; staring at his stilted hand. An eerie idea passed his fraying thoughts. ¡®Did the Medicas do something to me?¡¯ Gulcasa nervously breathing, tried to calm his panicked nerves by rubbing his brows. Calming his thoughts, he stepped back from his illogical fears by considering and estimating. Gulcasa was not gifted by physical means like his brother Raicer; but he was gifted tremendous curiosity, leading him into the path of books. Gulcasa somewhat had to admit though, he would have been gifted with his brother¡¯s talents, But beggars can¡¯t be choosers and it was the only path he could have gone because of his disability of being near-distance. Someone who could only see as far as their arm can reach out from their body; outside that boundary--everything was a blur. Having calmed himself, he finally realized what the anomaly within his eyes was. It was the infamous gift of the Blood Status. Gulcasa knew what this was because his brother, had the same gift. Gulcasa recalled years a-back when Raicer told him of it. He knew his brother was different to him, but when that moment came, he knew how. Raicer was his half-brother. Apparently, their mother when she was a young lady, she was a maid working in a noble estate Gulcasa couldn¡¯t remember the name of. In the few years she worked under the nobility, she had gotten pregnant with one of lord¡¯s son. Their mother, having bad prospects, was left disgraced from the manor. But she did manage to find somewhat of a comfortable life after she had met Gulcasa¡¯s sire. Gulcasa sighed at the image of his mother and father, together with his half-brother Raicer. The memory of his family sent down a warm feeling into his stomach. He missed them as much as anything he could have missed. Gulcasa recall the memory of his stern father, who grew up as a guard of a noble household. Leaving his position with their mother, he became a guard of Artuwel, in which they had lived during Gulcasa¡¯s and Raicer¡¯s childhood. Their father even though not of his blood, loved his adopted son Raicer, like his own son. Gulcasa recalled his father being so proud with Raicer when he gained an officership at the town¡¯s militia guards. He recalled being envious of his brother¡¯s accomplishments, while he was mostly at their home, head in his books. Recalling the reason why memories of his upbringing at the forefront of his thoughts, he focused back to the infamous Blood Status, and any knowledge of it. It was half a decade back when he was living in his tenth year and his brother on his fourteenth. ¡°Why do you have the Blood Status, Rai?¡± The young Gulcasa said to his older brother. ¡°It¡¯s...because¡­I¡¯m not--¡± His brother was hesitant. ¡°You¡¯re not?¡± ¡°--I¡¯m not your real brother.¡± Raicer finally said. ¡°You¡¯re silly.¡± He childishly voiced out to his older brother. ¡°I¡¯m not!¡± Raicer crossed both his arms at Gulcasa. Gulcasa recalled his brother had watery eyes at that moment. ¡°You¡¯re so silly. If you¡¯re not my real brother-- then how are you here?¡± He smugly said. Gulcasa recalled how his little young self thought that his brother was pulling off another prank. Recalling the plethora of childish pranks Raicer would do to him during his childhood. Gulcasa smirked at his gullible younger self. But this time, this was not one of them. His older brother huffed out a sigh within his memories. ¡°I¡¯m a noble¡¯s bastard... Gully.¡± Raicer said to him. ¡°What¡¯s a noble¡¯s bastard?¡± He recalled asking. ¡°It means I¡¯m not your brother.¡± His brother stated. His brother¡¯s voice was slightly frail, Gulcasa recalled when he said it. Gulcasa began to sadden at the specific memory, that he recalled back. With what he knew and understood now, having an older perspective looking back. He now understood how hard it was for his brother to say those words to him, and what the words actually were. A boy trying to tell his younger brother who he loved, that they were not fully related. Now with the insight of his past, Gulcasa nitpick the discussion he had with his brother, back then. He recalled asking his brother further about the Blood Status, of how it would appear in his brother¡¯s eyes. Gulcasa contemplate the thinking of blood, in which the blood status had taken its name from. As such as is, the Blood status began to print into his peripheral vision, again.
{User: ? ? ? ? 001¡­ Host Corruption} {Class Rank: ? ? ? ? 001} {Strength: 12 +}{Constitution: 11 +}{Dexterity: 12 +} {Intelligence: 15 +}{Perception: 8 +} {Stat Points: 73 +}
Gulcasa startled back, holding a curse within his lips. Knowing they would appear, it still felt alien to Gulcasa, but he pressed on to understand what was before him. His musing of blood may have prompted in summoning the infamous Blood Status, he surmised. The text would appear like curtains falling into his vision. Gulcasa counted to ten and then analyzed the alien words and letters, more clearly. The alien letters and symbols were familiar to Gulcasa, they were written in old Imperium from the triumvirate era. The old Imperium language was considered the most common language within the continent of Trifecta. The old Imperium language was old, three millennia old and with that age, the language altered and changed across the continent but primarily stayed prevalent in diction and speech between the three countries that were once--part of the Triumvirate Empire. Love this story? Find the genuine version on the author''s preferred platform and support their work! The alien text had Imperial mathematical symbols that qualify what each digit represents. Judging from what Gulcasa can surmise from the name of the Blood Status, and what he could see of the text before him. That the Blood Status showed the status of the individual who held the strange alien gift. ¡®Strength¡­¡¯ Gulcasa read in old Imperium. After the word, there were mathematical digits which were currently equated to twelve. There was an odd symbol after the twelve--It was the plus symbol, which seems to be a function to add digits into the stat. ¡®Add what?¡¯ Gulcasa wondered. Dismissing his inquest, he continued reading down the list. ¡®Constitution, eleven?¡¯ Gulcasa surmises that the word Strength and Constitution were the specific titles for each mathematical digit that followed after. The word and number were related with one another on the same line. Judging from this, Strength had a larger number than Constitution which was below it on the list. Gulcasa knew what the old Imperium word Strength was, it was might, brawn and power from could surmise in his thoughts. So Constitution would be health, vitality or endurance--Gulcasa surmises. Below that, was Dexterity, with Twelve as it a digit. Gulcasa recalled a dictionary book he had his head caved in during the daylight season Summerfest in his childhood. His memory was not perfect, but he could recall what the old imperium word was. It was proficiency with faculty and aptness. The Twelve of Dexterity was similar to the Strength on the list. The old imperium word and digits were symbolizing and equating something but what? Candlelight sparked his thoughts with the obvious answer. The Blood Status was equating him, his body, his mind, and his entirety. It was now so obvious to him. Gulcasa cursed himself for a fool. ¡°A fool for the moment.¡± He snickered out loud. Now understanding what the blood status was. Gulcasa read further. Intelligence was rated Fifteen, which should have been a surprise to Gulcasa with how slow it took him to finally understand what the Blood Status actually was. ¡°I guess reading all those books did help me, a bit.¡± He smarmily said. Gulcasa was no genius, but at least he had something going for him; he sighed to himself. ¡°Perception, Eight.¡± Gulcasa grunted. No mystery there, he thought. Of course, his perception would be in the low digits. What would be in the low digits, Gulcasa wondered. After a moment, he took a long retrospective look of himself and the Blood Status before him. His Strength was Twelve. He was never strong, to begin with, but after two years of being conscripted into the military, he did gain a few muscles and mass to be considered at least average for an adult. So from what Gulcasa can extrapolate with that information, he garnered from the Blood Status was that anything below the Tenth digit was below average. From the two extremes of his Intelligence which was his highest attribute, and Perception, which was his lowest. Shoulders slumping at his status, Gulcasa rested back onto the pillow of his cot with his hands on the back of his head. Looking up into the blurry roof before him, with only the symbols of the Blood Status, as the most visible objects in his nearsighted vision; Gulcasa tried to fathom it all--not for the first time. At this point, he wondered why he had attained such an odd ability, sure his brother had it, but he was not fully related to his brother. His brother was a noble¡¯s bastard, whilst he was born from a soldier from common stock. Taking another deep sigh, he read his stats again through his mind, he paused at the last line.
{Stat Points: 73 +}
¡®Stat Points?¡¯ Gulcasa wondered, ¡®What this line... represent? Seventy-three?¡¯ Gulcasa halted his breathing at the large figure. Like the others on the Blood Status, the plus mathematical symbol was present. Gulcasa did the common figures during his early schooling in the town funded chapel school of Artuwel. Scanning the Blood Status again, Gulcasa wondered the origin and the reason for its existence. ¡°The question of the three millennia...¡± Gulcasa muttered under his breath. The alien stats began to slowly disappear when Gulcasa focus was distracted by the sound of approaching footsteps. Radolf Altmata hurriedly walks past him to a fidgeting figure a few hazy cots to the left of him. Noticing the Blood Status absences, he focuses back on the alien feature in his eyes back to the forefront. Like before the alien stats began to print down like dotted prints down into his peripheral vision. ¡®If I focus on it, it will appear?¡¯ Gulcasa reasoned, glancing at the strange anomaly. He wondered if the Plus symbol would react to his focus, besides the Plus was a mathematical action to digits, when doing a mathematical equation, so logic would say that the symbol would represent an action. But the question would be¡­There are multiple Plus symbols in the Blood Status List. Gulcasa wondered which one should he focus upon? ¡°Perception¡­¡± Gulcasa murmured, as he read through the old Imperium words. Excitement roiled into his stomach at the thought of his low Perception increasing, giving him actual sight. Without any hesitation, Gulcasa focus on the mathematical symbol of Plus, intently.
{Perception: 81}
Gulcasa¡¯s Perception skyrocketed in digits when he focused his intent into the stat, and with that blinding white light encompassed his vision. The intensity of the shadowed light of the hospice glared Gulcasa now sensitive vision into blinding white. ¡°Arggh!¡± Gulcasa yelp out loud panicked at the blindness of his vision. It was all too bright. He felt his eyes searing by the heat of the rays, and the full whiteness of the midday. It was all too bright. Gulcasa mind was elsewhere from the Blood Status, the searing light burns through his sensitive pupils. Thinking back with no other recourse, Gulcasa with pain irritating him, he focused on his Perception to lower. One by one the digits of his Perception began to decrease in decimals. Within the few irritated seconds, he was in white, his white vision began to spot colors past the haze of white.
{Perception: 40}
Gulcasa could now see more clearly than he had his whole entire young life. He could see the strains of the fabrics of the hospice tent roof. Eyes roaming at the weaving cotton patterns dyed by the bleach white with spots of brown, red and yellow haphazard into the fabric. Sitting up from his stupored amazement, Gulcasa scoped the hospice before him with delight at the range of his sight. A crawling realization sparked through his excitement, the realization that he was not half-blind any longer... ~:\| Chapter 5 |/:~
¡°From time immemorial the Blood Status had existed within the Regalian Peerage. But the gift was not only within the Regalian Nobility, but it was also once spread across the Trifecta, most prevalent in the Rhaodian Aristocracy before the religion of Thy Mother came to existence. The Marcian Upper-Class were also granted to have the Blood Status, but sparsely, not as prominent as the Regalian Kingdom, but there. It was told that the Blood Status was the machination of the Triumvirate, the ruling council of the Triumvirate Empire that was dated back three millennia ago.¡± -----Lesson Notes from Tutor Tonselwift.
Reanna pivoted, twisting her left foot on the padded dirt, altering her footwork into a thrusting stance within an instance, she thrust. Jayce, Reanna¡¯s current sword instructor, and their Recrest Household guard, neatly avoids her thrust by stepping to the side. He then countered with a side slash, aiming for her leather greaves. Reanna lent back to avoid the blunted edge. As she exited from the swing, the tip of Jayce¡¯s rapier lightly taps her cloth and leather layered stomach. ¡°Point! Lady Reanna.¡± Jayce said out loud. ¡°Call me Reanna!¡± Reanna aggrieved at the point, and the title, she shouldered her roiling rage by quickly using the angle in which Jayce has swung his rapier, to spring her rapier into his exposed side. Jayce flicks back his rapier to slap the center of Reanna¡¯s blunted rapier out from its intended target. Reanna knowing that this action would occur, lax her grip to overforce Jayce parried slap into an opening which Reanna took. She closed the gap with her upper body and use her left shoulder to shoulder Jayce¡¯s open chest. Pushing him and her into the padded dirt with a thump. Her on top of Jayce, she lightly taps the pommel onto his throat to call point. ¡°Point.¡± Reanna smugly said. Jayce surprised face was her only reply. ¡°Uhmm,¡± Jayce staring up Reanna¡¯s torso than up to her flush face. ¡°Lady Reanna?¡± Reanna''s face went crimson red, finally comprehending their odd position, with her sitting atop Jayce¡¯s stomach. She furiously blushes rouge through her freckles. Quickly she stood up off her friend and hastily step few paces away with her back turned to him. ¡°I beg pardon Jayce, I didn''t mean to let it get out of hand.¡± She rushes to say. Jayce palming the dirt to get himself off onto his feet, dusted himself. He nodded to her turned form. ¡°It¡¯s fine, my Lady.¡± Jayce pants. Reanna thought if Jayce had used a dueling buckler--he would have had the chance to block her tackle; but fortunately for her, he submitted his fate to another draw. Reanna calming her sensual thoughts about her friend and dueling partner Jayce turned to face him with a nervous smile. Jayce was grinning down at her from a few paces back, rubbing his neck where she bruised him with her pommel. ¡°Sorry¡­¡± Reanna said, her hand instinctively on her long red strands of hair at the side of her, pulling. Reanna¡¯s eyes directed themselves down towards Jayce leather boots, not ready to meet his dark-blue eyes. Reanna was nervous and bashful at that moment, and she loathed looking like a delicate lady in front of him. Jayce took a swab dripping with water to clear the sweat glistening on his furrows. It was apparent to Reanna, that Jayce was a handsome young man, and her friend, but it did not stop her from pining for him. ¡®Curse my pubescent angst,¡¯ She grunted--kicking small dirt hill into the dust of the padded dueling grounds. ¡°Are you ready again?¡± Jayce inquired. Taking a deep and nervous sigh, Reanna pushes back her pubescent thoughts, out from the forefront of her mind, into the sequestered hidden hopes of heart. Preparing herself, she drew up her rapier and took a ready half-side stance. Her right shoulder was at the front with her rapier and her left foot extended at the back; the primary dueling form to most duellist in the twenty-seventh century. Jayce saluted her, then did a similar half-side stance--mirroring her. ¡°Set!¡± Reanna familiar with Jayce¡¯s solid and practical dueling style gave her an idea. Not yet ready to clash steel, she steps back a pace--not engaging. Jayce concern, step forward but readied himself for a counter. No counter Reanna was apparent. No other choice, Jayce swang the first strike. The blade was neatly avoided by Reanna¡¯s practiced parry. Reanna spun to the side then neatly avoiding the following slashes from Jayce. Jayce annoyed with Reanna¡¯s passive approach to the duel, he then continued his precision thrusts and swings to spark a counter from her. After a one-quarter candle, Reanna performed her tactic. Reanna altered her half-side dueling stance into a Marcian Vetralle Scorpion Stance. Unlike the average dueller stance, with the blade at the front, ready to parry and strike at a moment¡¯s notice, the Vetralle Scorpion stance had the sword at the back and the left foot ahead of the right which was pivoted to the side. This stance left her opened for any frontal assault, as intended. The crutch with Vetralle Scorpion stance was that it wasn¡¯t viable in closed spaces, fortunately for her, they were dueling at the estate¡¯s open garden, with a padded dueling circle at the center. With this stance, Reanna could continue her passive approach to the duel. The stance would allow her to primary see and dodge any of the opponent''s assault, then countering at any time with the final step, the stingtail. The stingtail was the final maneuver of the Vetralle Scorpion stance, a double thrust for each step forward. Jayce cautious at the change in stance, paused considering. They both circle one another, Jayce sprang his rapier for a thrust randomly trying to provoke Reanna to counter with a maneuver. Reanna feigns a trip to provoke Jayce into committing. He committed with a swing of steel. She neatly avoids the swing by ducking. Expecting a counter from her, Jayce jumps away from her expected right double thrust but unbeknownst to him, was that Reanna swapped the handle to her left hand. At the moment when Jayce avoided her right, she sprung the stingtail into his guts, double-tapping onto leather garb with the blunted point. ¡°Point match!¡± Reanna said smugly. Jayce, surprised at the display took a few moments to absorb his defeat. It was a feat, Reanna had practiced alone for several months. When she first started learning to duel, her first instructor, a Braavosi from the Marcian City State of Constinapli discovered her natural ambidextrous ability. The ability to hold the rapier on both hands gave a duellist a surprising advantage against their counterparts. Having such a rare talent, her Braavosi instructor, advised her to practice the same stance with both hands, forcing her center to be flexible whenever she swapped her weapon. With that in mind, and the plethora of sword instructors, her father¡¯s money could buy--from the Dancing Masters of Vetralle to the Rhaodian Squires of Rhaodia and Braavos of the Archipelago; Reanna was considered a natural duellist. ¡°Congratulation, Lady Reanna. You are too refined for my simple skills.¡± Jayce slump. When Reanna first met Jayce, he was a cocky young boy, retainer to one of her father¡¯s household retainers. But after years of military training and service to her father, she grew fond of the young man. He was her best friend. Now she was older, and her feelings towards Jayce, who was currently rinsing his handsome face, made her heartbeat inordinately fast. If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation. The display of Jayce wet before her encouraged her freckled cheeks to redden. Turning away when he turned to face him. ¡°Being ambidextrous helps it¡­¡± She excused. ¡°My moves will get predictable in time.¡± Reanna downplayed. ¡°If you had a sword-breaker or a buckler, my natural advantage would have been nullified.¡± She said, still blushing, turned away, and pulling her red locks. The plethora of excuses she made, made Jayce frown. ¡°My Lady, you don¡¯t need to excuse yourself for being the better duelist for the betterment of my pride.¡± Jayce catching on continued. ¡°Being exceptional on anything adds to your personage. My Lady.¡± Reanna¡¯s blush more furiously than before, like a paper sheltered candlelight, ready to burst into flames. Pulling her autumn red locks, straining her follicles; she stayed silent to Jayce¡¯s praises. ¡°If you had a stiletto-like one of those Braavosi of Marcia, you¡¯d be able to match any of the Sword Masters of Regalia,¡± Jayce said. Reanna having experienced being tutored by a Sword Master of Regalia concurred to Jayce¡¯s statement. But stilettos were not considered fashionable in Regalia at the moment. Throughout Marcia or the Archipelago, countries were being a duellist was considered a lifestyle; the stiletto was an essential crossing gear when dueling. Reannawas staring down at Jayce¡¯s leather boots, avoiding his eyes, so she would not blush again. ¡°Shall we go again?¡± She asked. Jayce was two years older than her, but it did not stop her from seeking attention from him from a very young age, but now, especially now, it felt like blissful torture to her pubescent thoughts. Jayce, sighing at Reanna¡¯s eagerness like a duel was a lovely stroll at the gardens--said. ¡°If you insist, Lady Reanna.¡± ¡°For the thousandth of times, call me Reanna!¡± Reanna sprung, flicking her rapier into a duelist stance. She hurled herself at the unprepared Jayce, with a huge snarling grin plastered on her face. Reanna¡¯s face suddenly distorted into abject horror as she trips against a small mound of dirt, constituting her to hurl into the padded ground. Jayce noticing rushes towards her to catch her fall. They both fall onto the ground with a thump, with her on top and him below. Jayce, hands on her waist, gently lift her from their tangled form. Reanna was blushing furiously, and he could see it now. The skin contact didn¡¯t help her either. Within that moment, between utter embarrassment and angst, a building desire was shared between the two. ¡°Reanna Recrest of Registrar!¡± They both turned to the sophisticated womanly voice. ¡°What is the name of Regis, are you doing!¡± The affronted voice voiced out. Reanna dreading, broke contact with Jayce, by hastily standing up and rushing away from Jayce who was also hastily stand up. ¡°It was an accident mother,¡± Reanna said. Her mother, standing ten paces away from them, stood there flustered at the display before her. Rihanna of Regmont, the Baroness of Registrar was irately staring at the two of them. ¡°Fighting again? How barbaric. I keep telling your father, that It¡¯s unladylike to practice to fight. How many times--¡± ¡°It¡¯s not barbaric, mother.¡± Reanna crossed, crossed her arms. ¡°Well, however you see it, it¡¯s barbaric, suitable only for the brutes of the world.¡± Her mother stated. ¡°Well, Uhm!¡± Reanna continued with her crossed arms. Her mother, staring at the two of them, had small smirk creeping up at the side of her mouth. ¡°I hope that was the only thing you were doing.¡± Her mother said to her with an underlying message underneath the words. Reanna¡¯s face, pale before, now blushing furiously red again. ¡°NO! Nothing of the sort! Mother!¡± ¡°I beg your pardon, Lady Baroness, and you Lady Reanna, for any actions I have caused.¡± Jayce stiffly apologizes, a nervous tremor in his voice. He steps back from Reanna, a huge distance in point of fact to Reanna. Her sadden at the notice. The utter embarrassment she had earlier, now altered into a pout against her mother. ¡°Ahem.¡± Her mother interrupted. ¡°Come on darling. We need to get your brother. It is near the afternoon, and supper is upon us.¡± She continued. Her mother came up to Reanna and swirling her arm underneath her armpit to lock both their arms together. Holding onto her, her mother began to drag her off the padded dirt of the dueling grounds away from her friend Jayce. Reanna looking back, saw Jayce, stiffly standing, staring back at her with melancholy silence. As they continued their walk among one of the many hallways of the Recrest Estate, Reanna could not hold the tension of her shoulders any longer. Her mother¡¯s motherly yet civil demeanor was frustrating Reanna. ¡°Why did you have to embarrass me so?¡± Reanna burst. ¡°Embarrass you so? How so?¡± ¡°Uhm¡­Nevermind!¡± Reanna grouchily grouch. ¡°Oh please dear, you were embarrassing yourself.¡± ¡°No, I did not. I had everything under my management.¡± ¡°You mean, under Ser Jayce, muscular arms.¡± Her mother saucily taunts. ¡°Oh--mother!¡± Reanna groaned. ¡°Oh--dear!¡± Her mother sarcastically retorts. ¡°It¡¯s fine to have a few dalliances, now and then, but nothing to that extreme again.¡± ¡°Mother, it was not like that. I tripped.¡± ¡°Oh dear, I know you have been pining for that boy, for some time now.¡± ¡°I¡¯m not pining for him.¡± ¡°He is a member of the Recrafts. Who are loyal retainers to our family.¡± ¡°So¡­?¡± ¡°Ser Jayce is of common stock and not viable for a proper marriage. Trust your mother on this one, you don''t want to end up like Uncle Rakon.¡± Outrage in where this conversation was heading, Reanna removed herself away from her mother¡¯s arm. Ignoring her words, she pressed on opening the parlor room where her brother Regulus was currently at. Her brother Regulus was currently lying upon the Marcian silk carpet, patterned with intricate woven pictograms, telling the story of the Flame of Marcia.At the center of the carpet, was a silhouette of the priestess, as the beacon of the religious depiction.Regulus had a jumble of metal soldier figurines on top of the carpet, haphazardly positioned onto an ongoing battlefield. Her brother began making cannon noises and a cicada of rifle shots with his lips. Reanna ignoring the battle before she went to the pitcher of water on the porcelain table of the parlor to pour herself a glass, whilst her mother entered the room. Taking a huge gulp of fresh water, she sat down onto the comfy leather chair near her brother. Her mother, aghast with her behavior, pouted her lips towards her than turned towards her brother with a loving smile. As such, as is, her mother attacked her younger brother with hugs and kisses, interrupting his imaginative battle. Reanna could see Regulus was annoyed at the interruption, but soldier through it for the chance of continuing his mock battle before him. Brother was smart like that, she thought, instead of arguing with mother, he just lets the inevitable come to the past. Reanna taking a deep sighed, laid her head at the back of the leather edge, looking up at the wooden ceiling before her. Thinking of red blood patterns of the Marcia carpet, her Blood Status began to slowly display.
{User: Default} {Class Rank: Soldier} {Strength: 13}{Constitution: 14}{Dexterity: 15}{Intelligence: 14}{Perception: 14}
Reanna''s face suddenly turned from boredom into utter excitement. She had finally done it, after months of swapping her stances and adapting with both her hands with the blade, she finally had done it. Increased her Dexterity by one. Months of practice finally gave her practical results. It took ages if not a lifetime to increase her stats, sure...Physical attributes like Constitution, Dexterity, and Strength are easier to increase, but having done so felt amazing. Like all Regalian Nobles, her family was blessed with the gift of the Blood Status, once your stat had increased, it will stay like that until your death. Her face brightens at the thought, of being constantly as fast as she was today during dueling bouts. A few more years, she¡¯d hope to have at least all her physical attributes at fifteen. ¡°Supper will be soon.¡± Her mother said, holding onto her fidgeting brother. Excited to tell her father the news, she could not wait any longer and stood up from the leather couch. Smiling, Reanna told her mother and brother. ~:\| Chapter 6 |/:~
Gulcasa could now finally see, see the world before him and smell; an awful smell. ¡°What is that awful smell?¡± He said out loud. The aroma of the hospice was intoxicatingly foul, how did he not smell it earlier--when he first woke? Blood, vomit, sweat and other unmentionables were drowning his senses from its foulness. Gulcasa roamed his new sight around his surroundings, the smell of death and sight of agony was what only greeted him. Understanding now why his nose was sensitive to the toxic odors, he silently cursed at his high Perception. Gulcasa wished that the Blood Status came with some form of instructions. ¡®Maybe they have?¡¯ He thought. There might have been some sort of schooling for the nobility to understand what the Blood Status actually do, and what the Old Imperium words truly translate. Ignoring the plethora of smells that was seeping into his nostrils, Gulcasa scrutinize the scene before him. ¡°Drrrrrr.¡± Gulcasa swivels his head to the sound. It was a man heavily bandaged from top to bottom, asleep. Gulcasa froze down into amazement, his eyes dilated, he saw the man in a new light. He could see the particles of dust, snorting out from the man¡¯s pinkish nose, and count the strains of hair on the man¡¯s heavily bearded chin. The wrinkles near the man¡¯s closed eyes were like broken crevasses of a rugged mountain slope. Gulcasa jostled back from the plethora of information he had gathered from just his sight alone. Luckily for him, his wrist was strapped onto the cot, confining him from falling off onto the grassy ground. Gulcasa irritated by the feel of tight leather on his wrist, jostling the straps--with that action, an idea sparked his thoughts. The Strength on his Blood Status had a mathematical equivalent to Twelve. If Gulcasa add up a few more decimals, maybe he could break through the leather straps. The Idea was practical to him, ¡®It worked with my sight¡¯ he thought. So logic would dictate that it should work with his strength. But would it have hidden consequences like Perception and his sensitive sense of smell? ¡°I¡¯ll never know, I don¡¯t try.¡± Gulcasa said, convincing himself to act. Like before, summoning the thought of blood, was easy, especially when the metallic smell was so prevalent in the hospice.
{User: ? ? ? ? 001¡­ Host Corruption} {Class Rank: ? ? ? ? 001} {Strength: 12 +}{Constitution: 11 +}{Dexterity: 12 +}{Intelligence: 15 +}{Perception: 40 +} {Stat Points: 41 +}
The alien letters continued to write down into Gulcasa¡¯s peripheral sight, he was reading it as it quickly prints. Gulcasa paused at the last line, the Blood Status, Stat Points had decreased in decimal. Before it was Seventy-Three, but now it¡¯s Forty-One. What could have caused such an alteration, he wondered. Reading up, Gulcasa spotted his Perception at a large decimal of Forty. ¡®Could that be the cause?¡¯ He wondered. Number figuring both the decimal changes, he surmised that when he increased his Perception by a focused digit, the decimals on the Stat Points decreased by the equivalent amount. Having an understanding of basic mathematics and common hearsay logic, Gulcasa surmised that this would also work and have an effect on the other stats on the Blood Status with their digits. Having garnered too much information with his newfound sight, he judged that a normal person would not have seen so much in perspective. Besides the reeking odors making him breathe with his mouth, would be too much for anyone; he reflects. Like before, Gulcasa focused on his Perception, to decrease to a reasonable sum. Twenty, he agreed upon. Not too much, but just enough to be able to normally see. Gulcasa did not know the average decimal for which all people can normally see, but Twenty would be an estimated guess he surmised. Thinking about it further, the idea of doing this, was so bizarre, he reflected. Altering his body to what he intends. Gulcasa pondering thoughts were placed at the back of his mind, he needed to alter his Perception to get rid of the odorous smell.
{Perception: 20 +}
¡°Huzzah!¡± Gulcasa said out loud to no applause. The smell that was destroying his faculties were finally gone, well not gone per-say, but less intolerable. Gulcasa experimenting--checked out the scene before him, once again with his new and altered sight. ¡°Perfect.¡± He described. The information Gulcasa garnered from his altered sight, was not too much but just enough to be viable for everyday use. Gulcasa spotted a fly on a used bandage near a basin of water, a table away from him. Before he could have counted the number of pupils on the fly¡¯s head, but now it blurred slightly when he dilated his focus onto it. Gulcasa senses felt quadrupled before, but now it felt like just right for the moment. Besides, if he wanted to increase it, he could just do it; he reflected. Gulcasa felt unnerved again, at the thought of altering his body through the machinations of the Blood Status; on a whim. Pondering, Gulcasa instinctively tried to scratch his stubble but was jostled by the straps that were still confining his wrist onto the cot. He cursed himself for a fool. Distracted by the miracles of his vision, he forgot the reason why he summoned his Blood Status in the first place. To get out of this dastardly confinement. Gulcasa currently felt the bad best he could be, he did not shake to a stupor;like before, besides no arms were missing or anything of the sort. Now is the perfect time to experiment. Gulcasa focused his thoughts on theOld Imperium word for Strength on the Blood Status, adding to the mathematical decimal attached to the same line. Cautious this time, Gulcasa experimented just by adding, one at a time. This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
{Strength: 20 +}
Gulcasa¡¯s muscles began to extrude and flex out from his body, tearing and building new muscles fibers into his flesh. Holding a scream through gritting his teeth, Gulcasa withstood the surprising pain that came from his action. His tolerance of pain was at the breaking point when his muscles fibers began to overlap on each other, as it defined his body further into an athletic form. After the pain, the indescribable pain, Gulcasa slump down into the cot from the constant sweat he had recently accumulated. Breathing raggedly, he tried to sit up from his form. The excruciating pain was what only greeted him from the action. His muscles felt sore, sorer than the early days when he was conscripted and doing long practice marches with his brother. Recalling his brother Raicer, and how would wait for him to catch his breath during those long marches. Made Gulcasa grit his teeth in resolve from the pain. Slumping and sweating on the cot, Medicas Doctor Radolf Almata came walking past. Noticing Gulcasa¡¯s sweat form, the doctor approached the prone man. ¡°Did you have a seizure again?¡± The Medicas said, putting his hand on Gulcasa¡¯s sweaty forehead to measure his temperature. Honest, Gulcasa responded with a negative. ¡°Interesting. What could be the cause of such a reaction?¡± Radolf pondered out loud. ¡°I don¡¯t know, my muscles¡­Just-¡± Gulcasa breathing heavily with sore muscles all around him, replied. A thought crossed his mind at that instance, ¡®If I say I¡¯m still sick--Than I¡¯ll be confined here further.¡¯ ¡°--It¡¯s nothing, I just, I just panicked, tis all.¡± Gulcasa half lied. Radolf removed his hand off Gulcasa after his response. ¡°Odd, you were heating up a minute ago, and then you drop back to normal,¡± Radolf said, puzzled. ¡°See, I¡¯m fine, tis nothing.¡± Gulcasa said, his tongue instinctively going to the common folk jargon. Radolf suspicious of Gulcasa did not reply but nodded once to his words. ¡°If you say so, Young lad.¡± Radolf, scrutinizing Gulcasa, as he laid on the cot. The old man took a long sigh of defeat than turn to leave. ¡°Doctor!¡± Gulcasa halted the fair Medicas who about to leave him confined to his cot. ¡°Would you mind?¡± Gulcasa barely lifting his arms from the straps that were confining his wrist with a slight jostle. ¡°Oh.¡± The Medicas step up to Gulcasa and began to unstrap the straps that were confining him. ¡°Let me get you out of these.¡± He comfortably said. Relieved, Gulcasa let the man do his work. After the Doctor, unstrapped the straps that were confining him. The Doctor gave him a pitcher of water so Gulcasa could sip upon. Sitting up, Gulcasa gingerly with sore muscles, poured the stale liquid down his throat. Cursing himself for being such a fool, instead of experimenting with his body, he could have just called the fair Medicas over to unlatch the straps that were confining him. ¡°Bloody Blood Status.¡± Gulcasa muttered. As the Doctor was about to leave Gulcasa alone, he paused at Gulcasa muttered a curse. The Doctor bewilderingly froze up to the words. Mechanically turning to face Gulcasa, Radolf face was hungry with obsessive curiosity. ¡°Lad, did you say Blood Status?¡± Gulcasa cursing himself for a fool, admitted to the fair Medicas. ¡°Yes, Doctor¡­¡± Gulcasa nervously said, unnerved by the Doctor¡¯s focused attention. ¡°Are you by chance, gifted with that infamous trait?¡± The Doctor, downplaying his question, asked. Suspicious, yet no other way to explain it; Gulcasa answered truthfully. ¡°Yes..¡± ¡°Are you sure?¡± Radolf¡¯s intense stare, made Gulcasa paused for the briefest of moments. Gulcasa nod his head in the positive, no words to say in front of the intense curiosity Radolf was showing him. Radolf, staring at him for an uncomfortable amount of seconds, then checked his person. The Doctor took out a notebook and began paging through it. ¡°Lacea, Lacea...¡± The crazy Medicas kept saying to himself as he page through his notebook. Pausing at a page, he read out loud. ¡°Raicer Lacea, Bastard-born.¡± Annoyed at what the Medicas was doing, Gulcasa asked. ¡°Why are you looking up my brother, and how do you know he is a bastard?¡± Radolf was scrutinizing the page, turning to the next than repeating back to the page where his brother was on. ¡°Your name is not on here,¡± Radolf said to Gulcasa and to himself. ¡°Why would it?¡± Annoyed at the Medicas, Gulcasa replied snippily. ¡°All Noble Bloodlines should have been recorded onto military medical documents.¡± ¡°But I¡¯m not a noble.¡± Gulcasa stupidly answered. Of course, he wasn¡¯t a noble, the idea of being one of those pompous individuals sent disgust spiraling through his insides. ¡°Your Brother is dotted in here, but not you,¡± Radolf said, a bit peeved. ¡°If I had known¡­¡± Radolf muttered a whisper under his breath. Gulcasa surprised by how loud the Doctor whispered, went aback. The Doctor seems irregular to him. ¡°So your mother begot two bastards?¡± Radolf callously said. This fair Doctor isn¡¯t all that fair now. Gulcasa Annoyed answered with a ¡°No.¡± Radolf scoffed at the reply. ¡°Lad, You were not documented into the military files of being Bastard-born.¡± ¡°--So?¡± ¡°That means, I have to interview you and examine you, and your stats.¡± The Doctor unemotionally said. Gulcasa puzzled and annoyed at the Doctor, scrunch back away from the old man. The Medicas was kind and gentle before, now he sounds calculated and cruel. ¡®What changed him?¡¯ Gulcasa pondered. The Medicas took out a syringe from one of his many pockets. He brandishes the medical appliance, like a man ready to commit murder. Gulcasa pushed himself as far as he gingerly could away from the Insane Doctor. His muscles felt still sore, and he surmises standing would give him indescribable pain, but he would do it, just to get away from this man and his sharp needle. ¡°I¡¯m just going to take a sample. Tis all.¡± Radolf ruthlessly said. A panicked shout and scream came from a distance aways from the two individuals. A buxom woman wearing a white apron rushed towards the Medicas from the direction of the shouting. ¡°Medicas Doctor Almata! Over-Captain Canton is convulsing!¡± The nurse said to the distracted Doctor. Gulcasa saw the Doctor¡¯s annoyance on his face, the doctor then callously turn to the near-hyperventilating nurse. ¡°Fine, take me to the Over-Captain,¡± Radolf said, unfazed. Turning back to Gulcasa, who was huddled at the pillow of his cot, the Doctor said. ¡°You stay here, I¡¯m not done with you.¡± The cruel intent under voice was apparent to Gulcasa. Shocked and surprised, he watched the bipolar Medicas walk away from him. ¡®I need to leave this place!¡¯ ~:\| Chapter 7 |/:~
After excitedly telling her mother and little brother, Reanna could not wait to tell her father thus bolted out from the parlor room. Her mother aghast with Reanna¡¯s unladylike behavior yelled at the back of her. ¡°No running on the halls! You are a lady, for Regis sake!¡± ¡°Save me! Sister!¡± Regulus yelled, still coddled by their mother. Ignoring her mother''s words, and grinning at Regulus pleas, she exited past the parlor doors and into the hallway. Turning left, she headed to the direction where the dining hall room was. Passing the plethora of family portraits of her family members, alive and deceased, she continued jogging onwards. A few household guards garbed in their black and crimson were guarding each intersection again who knows what. Reanna didn¡¯t care, all she cared was seeing the face of her father when she told him the news. The hall room doors were opening, giving Reanna and easy entrance into the dining room. Her father, Rembrandt Recrest, Baron of Registrar, was sitting at the very end of the table, on his varnished chair. Reanna¡¯s father was a giant of a man, still in his middling years, and was quietly munching on a slab of leftover pork of midday. He was sneakily chewing a morsel, sometimes watching the entrance of the dining hall--for her mother. Reanna¡¯s father¡¯s passion was hunting, and his one true love besides his wife--was eating. Halting her steps, she scrutinized her father who was conspicuously huddled up with his extra meal, chewing. Her father not yet spotting her was grinding his teeth on a very stubborn section of the pork. An Idea crossed Reanna¡¯s mind, a brilliant and devious idea. Standing up, proper-like, she huffed to change the tambour and inflection of her voice to that of her mother, and executed her master plan. ¡°Remmy!¡± Reanna said, mimicking her mother. ¡°--How many times, have I told you to not gorged yourself without me!?¡± Rembrandt panicked at Reanna¡¯s imitation, huddled up to his pork, quickly swallowing the leftover meat whole, to leave no evidence of his crime. With a full mouth, Rembrandt replied. ¡°Noosh,dearish, I didn¡¯tsh gorge a thing without you my dearish.¡± Rembrandt''s face distorted at the last words of his reply. Confused on why Reanna¡¯s mother, would also want to binge food with him, it was so unlady-like; Reanna deviously supposed. Reanna, not spotting Stolwort, their House Seneschal, was quietly standing at the edge of the open dining hall doors, waiting on them. ¡°Lady Reanna Recrest Baron House of Registrar.¡± Stolwort glibly announced. Reanna aghast of being foiled by Stolwort, just stood there staring daggers at the glib old man silently towering at the side of the door. Rembrandt finally looked up to gawk at his daughter. Her father¡¯s face turned redder and redder with the ancestry rage of her forefathers. Ready to explode, her father than burst out roaringly laughing. ¡°Gorged yourself without me!¡± Rembrandt roared chuckling at the thought of her mother, and his wife, secretly gorging pork together. Reanna burst out laughing, together with her father, picturing the thought. Remembering what brought her here earlier, she rushes up towards her father and gave him an enthusiastic hug. She dived her face into her father¡¯s red rugged beard, a feature of her father, she always loved. ¡°What has gotten you so happy? Anna?¡± Rembrandt lovingly inquired. Only her father calls her with a nickname of Anna. With the majority of nobles in Regalia having their first name start with an ¡®R¡¯, it was unique to nicknamed her by the latter half of her name. It was irritating to have all the nobles you knew to have the first letter of their name start with an ¡®R¡¯, but it was an honorific tradition and custom when notifying your noble heritage amongst the peerage. The tradition started millennia ago, when the first king of Regalia, influenced the courtiers of his court to have the first letter of their name change in honor of the Regalian God of the Hunt, Regis the watchful. Brightly smiling, Reanna told her father the news. ¡°Papa,¡± She lovingly said, ¡°--My Dexterity went up to Fifteen.¡± Her father¡¯s face went from loving to proud in an instance. Celebrating, he lifted her. Reanna¡¯s father was a strong man, he¡¯d have to be she¡¯d reckon, with one of the highest Strength ratings among the peerage of Twenty. Lifting than hugging her, Rembrandt held his daughter lovingly against his big chest and round belly. The Red Fury of Registrar was as soft and loving as a gingered puppy at that moment. The Embrace was stopped when Stolwort called out the next two guest who was coming through the dining hall doors. ¡°Baroness of Registrar, Rihanna of Regmont and Heir of House Recrest of Registrar, Regulus Recrest.¡± The house Seneschal proud announced. Reanna was annoyed with proud inflection when the house Seneschal announced her mother and brother. Her father, put her sols down onto the varnish wooden flooring than turn to look at his wife and son. ¡°Remmy! Have you been secretly gorging on food before Supper?¡± Rihanna of Regmont said to her husband. Abash, and slightly guilty, her father lied. ¡°No, no, my dear--nothing of the sort.¡± ¡°Nothing of the sort? Then why, my dear Remmy... do you have pork gristle stuck to your beard?¡± Rembrandt looking down, trying to spot the slippery morsel that escaped his mouth; saw it then turned bright red at his lie. ¡°Dear, I mean love, Love..I?¡± Reanna not wanting any of it stepped away from her father. The look of defeat on her father¡¯s eyes, made her feel pity for the big oaf. Maybe she should step in but¡­ Reanna got to admit, her father was getting a bit rounder on the edges for a while now. ¡°Don¡¯t Dear-Love me, Remmy.¡± Her mother annoyed, said. ¡°But-but..¡± ¡°That''s it. Seneschal Stolwort, we will be having the winter regular today.¡± ¡°Yes, Baroness.¡± Stolwort ardently replied. ¡°The ever faithful and reliable Stolwort¡± Reanna groaned. ¡°But it¡¯s Summer!¡± Regulus groaned. Stolen content alert: this content belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences. ¡°Regulus, your hair is unkempt. Come here.¡± Rihanna ordered. Her mother grabbed Regulus to brush his unkempt hair to something fastidiously proper. ¡°Now go take your place. You too dear.¡± Her mother directed her response to Reanna. Reanna lamented at having another of those family suppers, where her mother would be looking over her shoulder when she fails to properly dip the silverware into the soup, and being judged for it. The thought of it, made Reanna slumped onto her chair she usually sits upon during Suppertime. Reanna¡¯s father having being chastised by her mother recently, was now cowed with her mother¡¯s immaculate mothering. Reanna missed the days when Revon was here, always the one neatly and smartly argue with their mother¡¯s antics. The servants entered through the kitchen passage doors, with silver trays, atop were ebony porcelain plates, covered silver dome lids. When the dining plates were placed, each servant syncly lifted each dome lid to the sight of grassy vegetable soup to the applause of no one. ¡°Come now, eat your supper.¡± Reanna¡¯s mother said, as she gracefully took a dip with her silverware spoon into the cold feeling soup. Regulus gagging, when he took a gingerly sipped taste of the grassy colored soup. Reanna twirled her spoon around the plate, she was famished from all the energy she exerted earlier, but for the life of her, could not put the meal onto her lips. ¡°If you want to raise up your Constitution, you better be dining Supper.¡± Her mother encouraged. Relenting, she took a big wallop of slimy soup into her mouth without a moment¡¯s hesitation; regretting it instantly. Throwing it out, back into the soup. Reanna¡¯s face soured at the notion of swallowing it back up again. Reanna saw her father, Rembrandt looking down at the modestness of his meal than at the empty dish beside him where scrumptious pork was once was present. Her stomach groaned at the earlier memory of it. Her father was right, eating before supper was essential for the living. Reanna glowering down at the grassy vegetable finally relented again. Her mother was right about raising up your Constitution. She solemn up and began to scoop again spoonfuls of grassy slime into her mouth, in a very unlady-like demeanor. ¡°Reanna? Are you still wearing riding clothes and those hard ecky training leathers?¡± Her mother pointed, aghast. Reanna groaned that her mother finally noticed her attire. ¡°Oh yes, dear mother. To better guard me against the boys who would sought me.¡± She smartly quips. Reanna sarcasm flew over her mother¡¯s head, but the derisive tone didn¡¯t. ¡°Hey now, young lady--you need to speak with eloquence when you reply with that sense of humor of yours.¡± Her mother said, still aghast. ¡°Yes, mother¡­¡± ¡°And Remmy, I have not yet seen you take a spoon into your supper.¡± ¡°Yes, mother¡­¡± Her father said gloomily. Her mother''s face distorted into feigning anger. Both father and daughter guffaw at the look. Her mother, taking a deep sigh commented. ¡°Why did I marry into a household of savages.¡± Regulus holding his ladle turn to them. ¡°I wish Revon was here. He would have at least made eating this, tolerable.¡± ¡°I wish I was dining the same soldier rations he would be probably devouring by now,¡± Rembrandt muttered, stirring his soup. ¡°If you were eating soldier¡¯s rations daily, maybe you be a lot thinner.¡± Her mother quip back at the cowed man. This conversation is going nowhere, Reanna thought. An idea sparked her mind at that moment, her brother, what would he be doing by now? ¡°Hey, Papa.¡± She called. ¡°Yes, Anna?¡± ¡°Revon is a Major in the Recrest Red Army, right?¡± ¡°Yes, and he does not have time to be lollygagging around like us humble folks.¡± Her father griped. Reanna surmised that her father misses the freedom of being on a campaign; he was called the Red Fury for nothing. ¡°I heard Revon¡¯s command, suffered a major loss? Is that true?¡± Reanna asked, she was curious about the answered and worried about the result. ¡°Where did you hear that?¡± Rembrandt asked a bit rigidity. Not having a ready reply to the question, she didn¡¯t say anything. ¡°No matter.¡± Her father relented. ¡°Yes, sadly it is true and it was no fault of your brother, Revon.¡± ¡°So what happened?¡± Regulus inquired, also curious. He was always curious, especially if it had anything to do with warfare. Muskets, rifles, swords, lancers and knights, all a boy could have wished for really. Rembrandt swirling his silverware around the dish, he began to tell what had occurred in said battle¡­ ¡°Revon was commanding the right flank of the Border Recrest Army. They were lightly skirmishing Baron¡¯s Rensfor left flank forces, leaving the whole battle in a stalemate of sorts.¡± ¡°Than how come the major loss?¡± ¡°Well, the thing is, we had a scouting dispute with the conscripted regular scouts and the Rhaodian advisory board that was delegated by the Emperor.¡± Reanna¡¯s curiosity peaked at this point, this was irregular in a normal uniform, especially when there are foreign influencers on the battlefield. ¡°The Rhaodian delegates advised us there were going to be attacked on the rear when they next push. Having catered to their whims, your brother took half the scouts to scout back this imagery force that would soon assault him.¡± ¡°Leaving his flank exposed?¡± Regulus excitedly said, like a student answering Tonselwift. ¡°It wasn¡¯t exposed per-say, but there weren¡¯t enough scouts outrun the two-thousand heavily armored lancers that assault the two Regiments of foot that was placed there.¡± Her mother held out a gasp, she was also listening intently to the discussion. Maybe her mother wasn¡¯t as anal as Reanna thought. ¡°So what was the tally?¡± Regulus asked, like the death of men were just number for the history books. ¡°We lost nearly two-thousand men, down to the man. It was a brutal assault. It could have been more, if not one of the Under-Captain who took command of a squad to spearhead the charge of the Rensfor Lancers, that gave time for Revon to do a full retreat to the center forces.¡± ¡°So did that Under-Captain die?¡± Regulus sensing his father mood, add grief into his words. Rembrandt paused for the briefest of moments. No one was going to ask, so Reanna did. ¡°What was his name?¡± She asked. ¡°Raicer Lacea¡­¡± Her father said, slightly shakily. Their mother gasps at the name. Lacea, where did she hear that name from, it was such a familiar name. ¡°He was a brave sort.¡± Her father said. ¡°He saved the whole left battalion, with that sacrifice¡­¡± Rembrandt continued. ¡°I¡¯m sorry to hear that father,¡± Regulus said. ¡°To sacrifice ourselves for their fellows is a noble pursuit indeed¡­¡± Rembrandt was gazing off somewhere unfamiliar, he was unresponsive to his younger son¡¯s remark. ¡°Raicer Lacea¡­¡± He softly muttered. ¡°Rembrandt¡­¡± Rihanna said to her husband with a soothing tone. A racket disturbs the melancholy scene around the dining room hall. The house Seneschal Stolwort went to closed doors leading to the hallways. As Stolwort opened the doors, recognition sparked through Reanna memories. Her face paled at the heavily armored man who entered the dining room. Stolwort slightly flustered and outraged at the man who interrupted his Lord¡¯s supper asked. ¡°Who are you Ser?¡± The man plated in black steel, with gold trims on the edge, paused at the lanky Seneschal. It was Balic, the Rhaodian guard who came with the priest delegate. The man lifted up his visor to his stone cold and calculating face, he then took an insidious grin in front of the host before. ¡°Good evening, Lord Baron Recrest, and Lady Baroness. Sorry to have interrupted your supper but--¡± ¡°--Who are you and what are you doing at my house.¡± Reanna¡¯s father was angry, angry like she has never seen him before. Her father heavily stood up with the silverware spoon, tightly gripped in his huge fist. ¡°We are here to kill the pest, that has infested this house. Milord.¡± Balic sneered, with a fake bow with a cruel steel Warhammer in his gauntlet fist. ¡°How dare--¡± Stolwort was about to continue, if not before his cranium was crushed by the spike of the oncoming Warhammer. ~:\| Chapter 8 |/:~
Gulcasa gritted his teeth from the pain he received all over his body. He then continued his limping path to exiting the hospice. He passed through a plethora of injured soldiers laid upon their cots. Gulcasa determined. That he was one lucky bastard to have weathered through the battlefield intact. There were men in the hospice who had survived through cannon fire, with their limbs missing. Some men who were so deathly pale-they looked like the ghosts tethered to their flesh. The idea of having it much worse sent a daunting shiver of realization down Gulcasa¡¯s spine. Finally, near the exit, Gulcasa quickened his limping pace. He endured the coursing pain, rushing through his body. Gulcasa cursing himself for a fool, again at the protestation of his muscles. There were two strange men standing out in front of the hospice, guarding the entrance. They were oddly garbed against the uniformity of the Registrar military camp. They had foreign black and gold silks underneath their plated steel. They ignored Gulcasa, as he limped passed them. They seemed to be blocking people from entering, rather than the people exiting. Gulcasa wondered who those men were and their odd garments of steel and silks. ''Why would they be guarding the hospice?'' Shaking his head out from his musings, he ignored the odd curiosity. Gulcasa spotted the picketed path that was strung around the Military camp. The picketed path was like roads pathing into a city of white ant hills. He walked past two Registrar soldiers whose uniforms he was accustomed to two. The two soldiers were in their conscripted color of red crimson, edged by shadowed black of Registrar¡¯s standing army. The two men glanced him for an instant than ignored him with the disgust of men unaccustomed to his appearance. Gulcasa with his high Perception could hear the men talking about the local yokels demeaning the uniform of the army. Gulcasa reddening at the insult froze his limping form. He pondered down his person with surfing realization, that he was wearing only the white undergarments of his uniform. The cloth was smudged with pools of sweat stains and splatters of dry crusted blood. A roiling growl deep in Gulcasa spoke out its desire. Suddenly, He felt hungry... he was hungry before, but this time... it was like a dark hole inside him that was consuming through the flesh of his organs. Panicking at the thought, Gulcasa waited a few more moments till the pain passed. After his stomach had protested its plea, the pain lessened down in a volume. But still, the sinking cramps in his stomachs had edged him to find food. Ignoring the glances of disgust that some of the soldiers were directed to him. He continued onwards through a haphazard assortment of camp tents. Gulcasa followed the picketed line out from the Medicas district and into a conjoining path that leads to the mess tents. As Gulcasa continued onwards, his limp slowly lessen. The muscles of his body decreased down in pain by half. Relieved at the decreased sensation, and sensing his body healing through the alteration of Blood Status. Gulcasa exited a path into a crowd of men, who were lined up heading towards an opened mess tent. Rattles of pitch bowls and brass spoons edged Gulcasa to line up with the men who were gathering for their daily midday meal. Annoyed at back glances he received from the men ahead of Gulcasa, made him redden with embarrassment. Yes, he was the odd one out in his white undergarments compared to the sea of Registrar Red that was surrounding him. And yes, he did look a bit bedraggled and sicken from the stains of his clothing. But it doesn¡¯t mean he should be stared at and handled like a leper, intruding in their day. Annoyed, he stepped, as the line grew shorter each bell of a quarter candle. After several minutes have passed, Gulcasa was finally at his eager destination. A big-bellied man, with mutton chops crusting the side of his burns, stared at him with mechanical disgust. ¡°Bowl?¡± The man grunted out. Gulcasa dumbfoundedly looked at the man, then gawked down at his bare hands. ¡®Ah shite.¡¯ ¡°No bowl, get out of line and get back your military assigned bowl. Then come back here, at the back of the line.¡± Gulcasa still gawking down at his hands, cursing himself for a fool had his stomach suddenly growl out loud in displeasure. Gulcasa¡¯s stomach edged him down to a path of violence. Holding fraying nerves, and a hungry stomach. Gulcasa dumbfoundedly continued to look between the huge metal bowl that was boiling with the brew at the side of the big man and the man¡¯s ladle. The man seems to ready to hit him with it. With no other choice, Gulcasa told him the truth. ¡°I don¡¯t have a bowl at the moment.¡± ¡°Then go get one.¡± sneered the man. ¡°I just came out from the Medicas Hospice.¡± The big man stared down to scrutinized Gulcasa attire, at the blood stains and sweat marks. ¡°You don¡¯t look injured to me.¡± He said blatantly, implying that Gulcasa was a load of sheep dung. Irritation displayed on Gulcasa¡¯s face at being practically called out a liar. ¡°It¡¯s true.¡± ¡°Hurry up! Get out of line!¡± A gruff looking soldier behind him hollered. The fat man with the ladle scrutinized Gulcasa heavily at this point. He was annoyed at him and the man behind him who was impatient to get his daily rations. The fat man relented with a sigh, ¡°Jeffrey, go get this man a bowl!¡± A brown haired young boy surfaced his head out from the mess of metal and steam of the tent. ¡°Yes-sh sir!¡± He replied. ¡°Not those new clean bowls, get him one of the other stacks.¡± The old man grunted, eyeing Gulcasa with a scorned eyebrow. The boy, Jeffrey came back with a bowl unwashed with dried up substances stuck into its interior. Gulcasa took a whiff of it and step back from the odor of cooked old meat and the aroma of aged soup. The fat man forced the bowl onto Gulcasa bare hands. He then took out his ladle and dipped it into the stew up, to scoop up a wallop of brew than dump it into the grimy bowl that Gulcasa was gingerly holding. ¡°Gon-on, git.¡± The fat man with the mutton chop sideburns hollered with his common upbringing. Gulcasa, having a stew of hot brew brimming his newly acquired bowl, hurriedly rushes out of the line. He continued onwards past the line, as soldiers who were once behind him glowered at his back. Huddled up in embarrassment, he found a seat in the dining mess at the corner of the mess tent. The seat was a wooden stump, roughly cut with small splinters spiking out. He groaned sitting down onto that mess, but he soldiered through for the food. With no brass spoon given, he gingerly opened his mouth to pour down steaming brew. Taking minor sips and swallows, he continued his chewing and swallowing frenzy to sate his stomach from rebelling. Tongue burning, he guzzled down the stew. Gulcasa stood up to wait on seconds and thirds, sate down his hunger. *** During Gulcasa¡¯s third helping of sipping and swallowing his stew. A gruff and grizzled older soldier purposely barged himself against Gulcasa back. Gulcasa spilled most of the leftover content within his bowl onto the stomped upon grassy dirt. The man and his companion both chortled out a loud at Gulcasa''s horrified expression. Gulcasa outraged at the loss of his third helping, suddenly stood up to face the gruff and grizzled man... For some odd and strange perspective, Gulcasa towered over the two big and gruff soldiers. He wasn¡¯t normally this tall when he fully stood up. Gulcasa recalled his last measured height at 5¡¯7 feet, but now though, he felt and perceived taller than his previous height. ¡®6 foot?¡¯ Gulcasa figuratively guessed. The two gruff men stared up to Gulcasa¡¯s eye level. They¡¯re face turned from cock-sure to hesitant once Gulcasa stood up. Swallowing their doubts. ¡°What boy?¡± The man that pushed him said. Gulcasa still musing about his heights, turned back his attention to the man in another time would have been a giant to him. The gruff soldier was muscular, not as muscular as Gulcasa was now, but the thickness of a veteran who¡¯ve been through more than one campaign. ¡°Why did you push me?¡± Gulcasa growled out. His stomach also growling out at the outrage of it all. The Gruff man¡¯s face turned red at Gulcasa¡¯s accusation. He was hesitant in his outraged, but his companion took a stand beside him, encouraging the man to reply to Gulcasa¡¯s towering form. ¡°Cuz¡¯s Yokels like yous, shouldn¡¯t be in this outfit!¡± The veteran sneered. ¡°Look at you, you¡¯re not even in uniform. Disgraceful.¡± He uttered. Gulcasa¡¯s face brightens with embarrassed outraged. Embarrassed at himself for his meager attire, and outraged at the man who pushed him for the cause. ¡°I just came out from the Medicas.¡± Gulcasa muttered a growl. Excusing himself for his attire he was in at the moment. ¡°You daft boy?¡± The companion beside him said. ¡°Yokels like you should be dead amongst the 97th. Cannon fodder for the crows and Rhaodian wasterals.¡± The veteran of a soldier spouted. By all the heavens, Regis haft watch, this man was infuriating Gulcasa to respond in violence. He took a step forward with his fist tightly clenched. ¡°Take that back.¡± Gulcasa growled out, not of a man outraged by anger, but a man with the cold resolve of violence. ¡°Ya gonna do something bout it? Yokel?¡± The atmosphere around the mess area was full of gunpowder tension, ready to explode from a moment¡¯s notice. Every soldier around them was standing, waiting for the violence to start. A man sitting down on a much better stump than the rest of the soldiers stood up from his place. Judging from his epaulets which had three stripes and a star, that the man was Colonel. He turned to face the three individuals who were ready to spark the building tension. Gulcasa saw the man¡¯s gruff and weathered face, and the black eyepatch covering his left eye. He was bald, with a plethora of scars all around his dome scalp. The man eyed the two soldiers who were facing Gulcasa than eyed him for a once over. The frown that was plastered on his face, turned with a sickening and cruel smile. ¡°Tis is a violent age.¡± The Colonel said, in his common tongue. Rare for a Colonel to be part of the common folk. Usually, those who are promoted to roles of command were members of the peerage. But this man. Beyond his birth had managed to fight through politics and war, got himself up to such a high position of power within the Registrar Military. ¡°If your ladies want to brawl.¡± The Colonel sneered. ¡°Than scoop up your shit, and come with me.¡± He commanded mannered in violence.
Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings. ~:\| Chapter 9 |/:~
The sounding thump of Stolwort¡¯s collapsed form woke Reanna from her shock. Stolwort--the ever dower and loyal Seneschal whom whenever she was grounded for something. Stolwort would secretly treat her with hidden candies away from her parent¡¯s ire. Stolwort now laid dead on the floor with his head caved in. The unreal nature of his death was still shocking to Reanna. One moment he was alive, sternly breathing, the next moment he was¡­ The squirts of blood when Balic removed the spike of his Warhammer out of Stolwort¡¯s face, brought Reanna back to the moment at hand. But, the memory of Stolwort¡¯s face getting shattered by the spike, made Reanna hurl her consumed vegetable soup onto the wooden flooring. ¡°I never did like that man.¡± Balic sneers. He took a glance at the gory spike of his Warhammer. Balic then faced the Recrest family with a smirk that was so insidious that the lady baroness instinctively took a step a back. Reanna¡¯s father Rembrandt was furious. So furious of his reaction palm the table with his tense hands, slamming it down with his boiling fury. He then swiped down to grab the wooden chair beneath him, ready to brawl with the armored Rhaodian. ¡°Darling, take the children through the servant¡¯s scullery,¡± Rembrandt said, eyeing Balic¡¯s steady walk towards him. ¡°Remmy--don¡¯t be a fool. Come with us!?¡± ¡°Darling, there is no time. Just do what I say, Woman, just this once¡­¡± Rembrandt growled, stilling staring down Balic. Rembrandt had his wooden dining chair in one hand and a porcelain bowl on the other hand. ¡°I¡¯m not letting go anywhere.¡± Balic sneered before his face was shattered by the porcelain bowl Rembrandt threw at him that moment. Rembrandt lifted one of the dining knives usually arrayed with the other silverware. His wooden chair as his shield and his silver knife as his weapon, Rembrandt mentality prepared himself for the oncoming violence. Balic¡¯s surprised face, morph into outraged fury. Balic cursing began to pick through the porcelain fragments that were haphazardly planted on his weathered face. ¡°You are definitely first to go, Miloooord.¡± Balic sneered again. He then smartly slide down his metal visor from his helmet to guard his face. Rembrandt staring at his odds, fighting a heavily armored man with a wooden chair stool and a silverware knife, sighed in acceptance. Rihanna his wife, gave him nod; also accepting the outcome. Reanna Mother than held Regulus shoulder with her right hand to push him towards the servant''s opened door. Reanna did not budge from her spot, the emptiness she felt for Stolwort turned into building fury towards that man who killed her Seneschal. ¡°Reanna.¡± Her mother softly called her. Reanna turns her head towards her mother¡¯s open hand. ¡°Come with me, you stubborn child... Hurry.¡± She whispered, trying to gander any more attention from Balic. The air was stagnant with tension, her father and Balic were each staring down each other with the cruel resolve of bloody murder. Her mother yanked her arm to move her from her dining spot. Reanna wanted to watch, and help she can. Her father could not fight Balic alone. She was trained, she trained for this her whole life. Ready to protest against her mother¡¯s urging pulls, she turned to her. Her mother¡¯s face was absolute, eyes brimming with tears, yet determined to get Reanna and Regulus somewhere safe. Reanna relented to her mother¡¯s urges, and let her yank her out into the scullery room. Door¡¯s closing, Reanna¡¯s line of sight of her father were quickly diminishing. Reanna hoped that this will not be the last time she saw her father alive. The servants and kitchen staff were all waiting for them to continue onwards pass the scullery room. They were all nervously clutching their kitchen utensils like squires ready for the fight. Their chief Japar from the far east of the Archipelago, holstered up one of his traditional machete with a slight curve on the tip. Japar and his staff were all ready to be the second line of defense for the Recrest noble family. Reanna could feel her mother shaking underneath her grip. Her mother quickly pulled Regulus and her past Japar and his staff, into the servant corridors of the manor. Her mother was muttering to herself. She calling their father a fool. And she was trying to find a way to escape their predicament. ¡°We need to find our Retainers. Maybe they can sort out this mess.¡± Her mother said, adamantly finding a course out of this horrifying predicament. Reanna nodded to her mother¡¯s formulated plan. Her mother was relieved that Reanna wasn¡¯t going to be stubborn about it. Her mother let her arm go with a nod. A smile crept into Reanna¡¯s face at the moment. Her mother finally trusts her to not do anything stupid. With her mother holding her younger brother close to her and Reanna following behind. They continued onwards through the servant halls. Screams and the clanging of swords clashing were heard all around them as they continued out of the servant corridors and into the main halls. Reanna¡¯s mother held her brother tightly while they pave through the conflict, searching for a friendly face in the fray. Two men garbed in shadowed night turn to their steps. Their face was gored with blood, beneath them with dismembered corpses of Manor guards. ¡°Over there!¡± One of the men called, spotting them. His accented Rhaodian voice showed his allegiance. Reanna¡¯s mother turned them both away from the direction the two men were approaching. Escaping their line of sight, they hurriedly quicken their pace from the heavy steps behind them. The men unfazed with the gore of their brutality brushed through the body parts of their prey. They kicked limbs aside. They hurried their chase of the mother and children who were retreating from them. Rihanna took a gambit and stowed her children and herself in one of the servant corridors throughout the hallway. ¡°Inside, quick!¡± Her mother pushed Regulus inside, before her. The small spacing of the corridor looked uncomfortable to Reanna, but they rushed in before the men who were chasing them spotted them. It was a dead end servant corridor, usually for janitorial storage. There was a mop and a bucket of hazy water at the side of the door they entered through. Quietly closing the door before the men past by. Her mother then took a deep sigh of hesitant relief. ¡°Did you see where they went?¡± A gruff voice said the same voice who spotted them earlier. ¡°No limping clue.¡± ¡°Bah. Check the corridors, they couldn¡¯t have gone far.¡± ¡°The woman was dressed as a lady.¡± ¡°Aye? Let''s show her a good time then¡­¡± Reanna tightened her fist at the comment that was audible through the door. ¡®I¡¯ll show them a good time.¡¯ She thought. She pictured herself using the mop at the side of her as a weapon and piercing it into their guts as they screamed for bloody mercy. ¡°Reanna¡­¡± Her mother clutched her arm. ¡°Take Regulus. Find someone loyal to the family and get out of here.¡± ¡°Mother..?¡± Not knowing why her mother would ask her this. ¡°Reach your eldest brother, if you can.¡± Her mother continued, her face was resolute and composed as it always has been before. Her mother was up to something. Her mother, Rihanna of Regmont, took her manicured hand onto the wooden shaft of the mop stick. Now Reanna knew what her mother was doing. Her mother pushed open the door, blindly swinging. For all the things Reanna thought of her mother, at that moment. Her mother to her was like a lioness with her mop, as she battered the dumbfounded expressions of the men before her. Hesitantly, Reanna took a hold of her brother¡¯s shoulder. Her brother was edging to help their mother who was currently distracting the men with her haphazard assault. Reanna would sometimes cringe when her mother struck air. But for the many misses she gave, she did land some critical blows onto the attackers before her. ¡°Stupid bitch.¡± One of the men said. He was momentarily blinded from one of her mother¡¯s lucky swings. The swing of the mopstick was amateur at best, clearly, her mother had no training in actual combat, or cleaning at best. But at least her mother was trying. As long as the two men were distracted, Reanna needed to get her brother out of there. Regulus was bawling into tears, as realization struck him that moment. Struggling against Reanna¡¯s pulls, he tried calling for his mother. ¡°Please mother!¡± Regulus sputtered, tears now glimmering out. Reanna tossed and pulled her distraught brother away from their mother who was still distracting the guards. Her mother battered away the men¡¯s parrying swords, continuing with her frenzied assault. One of the man, taken a few too many cursed at their mother. ¡°I didn¡¯t want to kill you yet, but you left me no choice.¡± The man snarled. Her mother took a swing at him. The man ignored the blow she gave him on the shoulders. He took a step than thrust with his bastard sword--right into her mother¡¯s abdomen region. Reanna¡¯s brother responded with a scream as he watched back. Turning her head to see the reason. An undescribed pain crossed through her center, at the vision of her mother collapsing into the man¡¯s sword. Her brother was balling and frozen to his spot, as they watch their mother being impaled. Reanna was still in shock. Her internal reaction was the same with her brother, she would have screamed and balled out her eyes, if not for the unbelievable surprised she felt. People dying was a common occurrence, but she had never thought it would affect her this much. It was her mother who was dying before her, her always stern and composed mother. Reanna knew the moment she had witnessed this, that this vision of her mother being impaled, will haunt her for the rest of her life. One of the men spotted them. Her brother and she were twenty paces away from the grizzly scene, nearly at the end of the sectioned hallway. A blonde figure came out behind the two men. ¡°Jayce!¡± Reanna instinctively screamed. Jayce hurled himself behind the two men, swinging his rapier with a panicked fury. Slitting the throat of the assailants who turned to face him. After the precise slash, he turned and hop forward with flicker, thrusting the point into the man¡¯s leather chestguard. The man with his bastard sword that was still in their Mother tried to pull it back to counter Jayce¡¯s mechanical assault--but was too late. The man shook into his final death throes when he''s got chest impaled. He then collapsed into the floor from the edge of Jayce¡¯s point. Reanna took back her to senses, from the display of martial feats. Rushed over to her mother and Jayce. Her brother following by her. Kneeling onto the swelling puddle of blood, Regulus and Reanna helped their mother to the side, where the pain should have lessened. Her mother¡¯s browed furrowed confused, as she stared up at Reanna and Regulus. Regulus streaming tears and constant moans clouded his incessant calling for his mother. Their mother¡¯s once composed expression was now of sad defeat. It crippled Reanna¡¯s heart when looking down at her mother¡¯s dying expression. ¡°Look after your brother...Reanna...my darling¡­¡± It was one of those rare occurrences when her mother called her darling. Reanna shoulders slump even lower. ¡°I will¡­¡± Reanna said with a nod to her mother¡¯s saddening expression. ¡°Please do not go mother.¡± Regulus sputtered out, from his cluttering cries. Droplets of salty tears smack incessantly on their mother¡¯s face from Regulus teary form. ¡°Oh Reggie, my darling, my love...my--¡± Reanna¡¯s mother¡¯s eyes slowly faded out of life with unbidden words unending. Regulus balled his moans out even louder at the passing. Jayce face paled at her death, turn his head aside in shame for not coming any sooner. A clatter of steel rang at the far end of the hallway. ¡°We have to get out of here, Lady Reanna,¡± Jayce advised, looking nervously at the section where the noise was. ¡°Give us a damndest moment.¡± Reanna sniped. She was holding her mother head onto her lap. Reanna, rubbed the tears drops that were ruining her mother¡¯s complexion. She then softly closed her mother¡¯s eyelids down. Her mother now, looked asleep, asleep in red surroundings, like a bed of roses beneath her. The clattering of steel stopped. Clattered metal footsteps replaced the momentary silence. Balic barged into the hallway with two similar garb men at his back. Balic took a glance at the scene before him. He spotted Reanna, then took a broad smile. Jayce stood in front of Regulus and Reanna to block Balic''s view of Reanna. His face paling, he said. ¡°Take your brother and yourself, my lady, out back at the courtyard.¡± ¡°Jayce...¡± She said. ¡°I am deeply sorry, that I did not come any sooner,¡± Jayce said, swallowing his regret. ¡°Jayce¡­¡± ¡°Reanna please...go.¡± Jayce urged. This was the first time, he called her by her name without her prompting him to call her it. Swallowing the lump in her throat, she nodded to Jayce¡¯s back. She took her brother who was still kneeling in their mother¡¯s blood. Her brother Regulus was silent at defeat, so saddened of his mother''s passing, he did not argue when she pulled her off his feet and away. Jayce firmly stood in the way for them, against the oncoming form of Balic and his henchman. As tall as he could, he flicks his rapier¡¯s guard onto his lips, then flicked it back into a guard form, as he would normally do, when starting his duels. ¡°I am Jayce Recraft, Household Retainer to the Noble House of Recrest. And you not past me.¡± Jayce declared with adamantine resolve. Reanna swivels her head around to see Jayce¡¯s back form, ready to receive the enemies assault. Still shocked by her mother¡¯s death, a daunting fear began to build up into her thoughts. ¡®Not Jayce too.¡¯ The lost of her mother was unexpected, but to lose Jayce too would destroy her. Hearing the small sobs of her brother, put her fraying thoughts back to center. She needed to get her brother out of here...Now. Sieving rage began to boil through her then, it was unexpected, but welcomed. Revenge was something attainable, even now. The idea of it gave her motivation to quicken their movements out of the hallway. The sounds of sword-clanging last things she heard of Jayce. Passing through another section hallway. They finally exited into their mother personal exotic garden. It was secluded at the back of the manor grounds. There was an intricate iron gate that would lead to the forest behind the Manor grounds. A path of escape she devised for her brother and herself to take. The exotic garden, had night flowers which were purple in their seasonal bloom, they brightening the garden¡¯s surrounding. A surreal visage that Reanna would sometimes come at night to contemplate. There was a hooded figure at iron back gates. He was hunched over, kneeling onto the gate with not a care in the world on what was happening inside the manor. Reanna scrutinized the man, he wasn¡¯t Rhaodian. He looked like a vagrant off from the streets. Why would a homeless vagrant be at the gardens at this time of day? She pondered. He was suspicious nonetheless, and blocking their path to freedom. Heavy footsteps sounded behind them. Reanna turned to look. There were two men garb similar like the assailants before approached them. The old man huddled passed her, limping towards them. The two men suspiciously scrutinize the hooded limping form that was headed to their direction. ¡°Hey old man, get out of the way.¡± One of the men said, his Rhaodian accent destroying the Regalian language. ¡°Could you spare--?¡± ¡°Are you daft? Old man?¡± The hunched and cloaked figure took a stumble. He then pivoted to hurl a throwing dagger towards one of the assailants. ~:\| Chapter 10 |/:~
¡°From time immemorial to the dawn of the Tri-Era and the dusk of the Triumvirate Empire, ¡®The Rite¡¯ was the mandatory right of all of the high blood. The generation gifted by the Gods. ¡®The Rite¡¯ began with the first sons and daughters of the first chosen. When the first son died who eldest amongst the descendants of the first chosen. He grew grotesque with his envy of the first chosen who was given the mantle of eternal vigilance. The first son was cast down, and for the rest of the descendants, the first chosen inscribed ¡®The Rite¡¯ into hallowed stone.¡± ¡°As such, as is written, by the gift to the end, shall be moved through fire into eternal paradise.¡± ¡°Cremations is what the scriptures entailed from what I¡¯ve have witnessed through the passing of Lord Recrant, a vassal lord of the Baron of Recrest. ¡®The Rite¡¯ ceremony, excluded the common folks, garbing those of ¡®highblood¡¯ in white. For Three millennia, all three Religions that branched out from the Triumvirate Empire followed this edict. Until hundred years ago, when the Regalian Religion absconded from ¡®The Rite¡¯ burying the high blood among the common folk.¡± ----Journal Entry #Twelve Radolf Almata.
¡°Shove it, Yokel.¡± A gruff looking sergeant not yet in his twilight years pushed Gulcasa to the forefront. In Front of the growing line that was heading towards the training grounds. Gulcasa stumbled onto a furrowed growth of weeds. He inhaled a cursed from his pains, with his new muscles still tender from his Strength status was altered, Gulcasa continued on. Stepping through the high roped fence, Gulcasa entered into the training grounds. A place where men would practice with sword and pike. Sometimes, or often a place where most of the common sort would their sink Regis coffers into illegal fisticuffs of what soldiers do. Gulcasa cursed under his breath now being an illegal participant of an upcoming brawl. He could already see the men around him swapping their earnings for the prize or the witness of blood, specifically young blood--his blood. ¡°Think yer smart, aye boy.¡± The thick looking man before him said. The one who insulted his company and his brother. An uncontrolled and boundless rage began to birth within Gulcasa¡¯s center. The rage passed through his shoulders then rushed into his tightly controlled fist. This rage within Gulcasa was not new, but old, not old like old grass that was fairly grazed, but like of sprout to oak. Since he was a child, growing envy of the able started. And with envy, flourished rage. The kids who tormented him didn¡¯t help either, but at this present, these thoughts and memories are not worth a damn. The common blood Colonel Dresken of the Right Battalion stepped in the middle of the three men. Gulcasa cursed the man¡¯s heavy steps. Gulcasa did not know the man, but he did know the man¡¯s reputation. A cruel man of unimaginable lust. Not the lust of brothels, which are scattered throughout towns bordering the baron¡¯s borders, but the lust of command. Gulcasa would sometimes hear his brother Raicer curse the Colonel¡¯s name from time to time. He would hear his brother cursed the man¡¯s name whenever they of the 98th were ordered would sortie out against the enemy with a two to one odds. Somehow through the brilliance of his elder brother, their regiment would survive--well most of the time... but not this time... Gulcasa cursed the Colonel¡¯s name, following the tradition his brother started. The memory of the last battle still fresh and covered in gunpowder smoke in his mind. ¡°What¡¯s a man¡¯s honor when they are buried among the dirt, boy?¡± Gulcasa¡¯s father grunts into his angry mind. Gulcasa remembered when it was first spoken, amongst the graves of the deceased with his father drunk with wine. Before his father and he was the buried remains of his father¡¯s friend who was stabbed through the jugular in a tavern brawl. The man died defending his honor as he thought he should. Gulcasa rubbed his neck at the cost. The Colonel gave a wide grin, wrinkling his bald scalp on how eager he was at the current situation. ¡°This donnybrook will be a one on two--scrap,¡± He grinned. Gulcasa gaped at the Colonel¡¯s unsporting rules. He then looked at the two veterans he was about to exchange with. The thick-set man with balding blonde hair, a thick square mustache smacked symmetrically on his wide face. The other was lanky with brunette mutton chops, taller than most men. Both the men beamed at the Colonel¡¯s decision to fight Gulcasa, two on one. ¡°Bloody arse.¡± Gulcasa cursed under his breath. He could argue against the idea of boxing the two at the same time but knew his words would be in vain. The cruel smirk the Colonel was giving him was so intent that it sent a shiver down Gulcasa¡¯s tense and muscled back. The two men both took their crimson coats off. Pulling their straps aside, they pulled off their upper cotton undergarments. There were sweat marks creasing the sides of their shirts. The aroma they gave off made Gulcasa nearly puke his recent meal into the padded dirt. The two men both pump their hairy chest out, showing their cruel scars and their circular bullet scars. The crowd around the circle roared in approval to their fellow men. Everyone around Gulcasa was off similar age, except him. There were no young men in this camp, not anymore. Only the young and brave die before their time, he thought as he gander the crowd. Thinking back of his brother, Gulcasa¡¯s tense demeanor turned down to hollow emptiness. Gulcasa did not have his own crimson coat. He must''ve lost it during his recent battle. He pulled off his white cotton shirt off his person and threw it off to the side, where the padded dirt was driest. The two hairy chested men both gawked at Gulcasa in utter disbelief. Gulcasa confused turn to face what was behind him. It was nothing, just a bunch of men gawking back at him. Still confused, he looked back towards them and the Colonel who was not grinning at all; but scrutinizing him closely. Gulcasa was about to ask what was everyone on about when one of the men who were about to brawl with him spoke. ¡°Ye ain¡¯t no noble boy?¡± Gulcasa still confused shook his head in the negative. The lanky man¡¯s face gaped further. He then went closer to the blonde thick man. ¡°You sure you want to do this? This Yokel has muscles bursting out of the seams. It ain¡¯t right.¡± ¡°Must of think he¡¯s a big deal round here.¡± The thick man grunted. Gulcasa could not tell if the two men several paces in front of him were whispering to each other, wanting him to hear them. It did not make much sense why they were discussing his appearance. Gulcasa than took a gander down at his person, his chest was bigger than before. He didn¡¯t really have a chest, to begin with. But now, his pectoral muscles look like they were as the lanky man said. Bursting out of the seams. Gulcasa torso was heavily muscled, muscles he did not see during his alteration. His muscles were defined in curvature, symmetrical and thick. He places his left hand down onto his abdomen. His stomach was alien to his memories. He recalled having a flat stomach but now, everything was so different. It felt like his entire body was replaced with something else, something unnatural. As he lifts his hand off his stomach, he looked at his left bicep. Shock made him step back. His bicep and triceps were bigger than before, but that was not the reason he stepped back in shock. It was the pale skin tone of his left arm that shook him. Comparing to the rest of his body, which was naturally tanned in complexion, his left arm in comparison was pale like the color was strung out to die. A jagged spider like scarred line separated his left arm from his whole body. The scarring was linked around his shoulders. Gulcasa¡¯s left shoulder was heavily scarred, with scarring he had never seen before. It felt like his entire left arm was alien to his whole entire body. Numbness began to crawl up his spine as his left arm tingles down to his attention. Colonel Dresken faced the two veterans. He grunted in disgust at their nervous looks they were directing towards Gulcasa. ¡°Get yer fisticuffs ready. No rules.¡± The Colonel growled. He turned around and walked off to step out of the circular pickets. Gulcasa stared at the back of the Colonel. The Colonel turned around to face them. Gulcasa was confused about his body, but he was tensed up for violence. Staring the Colonel to signal them to start, he waited but no action was answered. Confused, he dumbfoundedly stares at the Colonel. Wham! A clenched fist smashed through his right cheek. The assault came from the two men his body was faced towards. He instinctively lifted both his arms to guard his head against the multiple jabs he received. ¡®No rules.¡¯ Gulcasa spat out blood, cursing himself for a fool. Dodging his head to the side from a straight jab from the thick man. Gulcasa wanted to curse the man as a sharper but could not spare the moment. He was concentrating on the man¡¯s precise and practiced punches. ¡°Silence, my boy--is your best approach. Speaking will most likely get you dead.¡± His dad would remark within the furrows of his memory. Staying Silent, Gulcasa pressed on against the heavy assault he was receiving. Gulcasa heard one the sergeants in the crowd discussing his prospects in the bout. ¡°One Regis silver if he gets him under sixty.¡± The sergeant said. ¡°Make it an even two, and I¡¯ll take that bet.¡± Another of the sergeants replied, affirming the bet. Gulcasa¡¯s high Perception was beginning to distract him, especially now when he just had taken jab straight to his face, nearly snapping his nose out of place. ¡°Make it three.¡± Another man said. ¡°He looks tough, but still too young to have gotten any experience. Besides---I have seen that fellow he¡¯s fighting in three other bouts.¡± Gulcasa frown at the knowledge. It¡¯s true Gulcasabarely knew how to fight withfisticuffs, he rarely experiences such an event, but when he does, usually he just huddles up into a ball and waits for his older brother to arrive. Wham! Again, Gulcasa got smacked with a left hook on his right face. He should really not get distracted. ¡°Five Regis copper on the boy.¡± One gruffer man grunted. At least he was not alone in this, Gulcasa sighed. The blonde man kept jabbing him with his right fist. Gulcasa tried to counter back, but could not let his guard down from the man¡¯s left hooks. Gulcasa felt slow with the weight of his bulky muscles. He was so heavy before his alteration was lighter on his feet and everything felt natural. But now his body was alien as if he was amateurishly puppeteering his own body. His left arm was itching from the bruising. The itching was hindering the focus. The itchy feel felt like scabies nestling into his flesh, irritating his decisions. Gulcasa cursed at the irritation. He was glaring at everything, the thick man who was pommelling him, at his heavy arms and the crowds jeering at the brawl. Slowly, the rage began to build within him. Gulcasa was sixteen years of age, and he was treated like a mistreated dog against his handler. The frustration of the constant jabs and left hooks fueled his rage, killing his defensive focus. Gritting his teeth, he kept his frustrating scream down. Gulcasa threw a jab to counter the punch that the man backed up with his weight. Gulcasa¡¯s left jab spasm erratically when he stretched to slam his fist to slam at the man¡¯s guard. Worried, he retracted back his arm to guard against a right hook. His left arm spasmed. The man¡¯s right hook smash Gulcasa jaw on the left side. He stepped back at the force. He nearly tripped into the padded ground, but hold steady with his heavyweight. The blonde man grinned at Gulcasa, along with the lanky man behind him who was patiently awaiting his turn. Colonel Dresken face was unfazed with the fight before him, bored with the bout he said. ¡°It looks like the yokel¡¯s appearance is deceiving. Pity would¡¯ve liked to have watched a proper brawl.¡± Always looking down upon, Gulcasa gritted his teeth at the colonel¡¯s remarks. His left arm was jittering. ¡°Finish him off.¡± The Lanky man said, excited at the spatters of blood Gulcasa sprinkled each time he got a pummelled. The blonde man annoyed with his companion gave the lanky man a cruel snarl. He swiveled his head back towards Gulcasa¡¯s hunched form. The thick man lifted both his arms again into a boxing stance. He pivoted his foot, to spring for a charging punch ready to force Gulcasa into the ground. Gulcasa was tired, his muscles were heavy and his left arm was itching and twitching terribly. Fueled by his stubborn sense of pride to stand for his brother and his Regiment, Gulcasa tensed up his guard. The thick man sprang with a left jab aiming for Gulcasa¡¯s cranium which he blocked with his arms. The man followed up with a right uppercut into Gulcasa abdominal region knocking the wind out of him. Having momentum with him, the man swung to lay Gulcasa flat onto the dirt. Unconscious red was all Gulcasa could see when he landed on the dirt. The sound of jeering was all around him. Taunting his rage to lash out. Gulcasa nostrils were bleeding, the last connecting fist splinted the rubbery bone of his nose to jag to the side. Blood was constantly dripping into his lips. Gulcasa tasted the iron salt of his blood. His Strength felt useless to him, what''s the point of having so much strength when he could not do anything about it. The jeering of the crowd around kept hollering him to get up for more abuse. Gulcasa¡¯s rage grew in a crescendo at that moment, a feral unadulterated crescendo. Gulcasa sprang out from the mud of the ground that was catered with his sweat and blood. In an instant, he stood up and sprang for a tackle. A whispering voice crawled within the dark depths of his mind. His left arm irritating twitched, excited about what''s to come. Gulcasa could no comprehend this alien rage that had overtaken him, yearning him to the frenzy. Hollering yells of glee were silence by Gulcasa¡¯s frenzied grapple of the thick blonde man. They were both on the floor, Gulcasa on top, ripping and pommelling. Gulcasa fingernails were bloody. The violence was not fisticuffs no more, but an unadulterated struggle for the survival. The lanky man saw his fellow go down with the Yokel Lunatic. Gulcasa was ripping through the thick man¡¯s upper body with supernatural frenzied strength. Chunks of meat began to patter down across the padded dirt of the brawling circle. Gulcasa did not know what gave the Lanky man courage to tackle him. At the edge of Gulcasa mind, he just sat there and watch his body instinctively moving without his direction. He was horrified at the gore but fixated at violence. The lanky man tackled Gulcasa away from his companion. Undeterred, Gulcasa took the blows that the lanky man gave him. Gulcasa erupted both his gory hands, one pales the other not, to grip the skull of the lanky man. Gulcasa¡¯s left thumb began to press on the man¡¯s right eyeball. He pressed pressure into it. The eyeball exploding in white mucus and red trickles. The lanky man screamed his pain into a faint, collapsing the man fell a top Gulcasa. Unsatisfied, Gulcasa continued to squeeze the man¡¯s cranium. The other man who had his neck brutally mauled by Gulcasa¡¯s assault laid unconscious and bleeding profusely beside them. Gulcasa was snarling with rage-induced frenzied, his only focus was to crack the skull that was in his grip. Multiple hands began to touch him, pulling and holding him down. He instinctively struggled at the haphazard assault with his frenzied thoughts arrayed by the haze of blood. He tried to dig his fingers into the face of the unconscious man before him. Gulcasa could hear himself frantically screaming with joyful glee, insane with his frenzy. A rifle stock slams straight down into his forehead. The eye-splitting ring dazed him into confusion, but for a moment. ¡°Did that get him?¡± A man yelled. Thump. ¡°Keep going.¡± Thump. The thumping continued, yet still, Gulcasa could not go unconscious. His gory left hand continued his piercing pressure into the unconscious man¡¯s face. The rage consumed the very essences of Gulcasa being. Scared of the unfeeling silences, Gulcasa continued to grip onto the madness of it all. Thump. Gulcasa¡¯s hazy red vision began to shut down and fade into darkness. ~:\| Chapter 11 |/:~
The hurling dagger spun like shimmering starlight in the night towards its target. The dagger pierced the eye socket of one of the assailants that were after Reanna and her brother. Piercing straight through the brain. The assailant stood there, shock at the indignation of his death. He then collapsed onto the grassy dirt, with his fellow gawking at the downfall. Regulus yelp in joyous hope at one of the assailants'' demises, whilst Reanna cringed at the impact. She then smirked at the thought of one of those murderers dead before her. Clutching her brother''s shoulders, Reanna continued looking on the scene before her, at the last assailant and the hunched man. The hunched man cloaked in patchwork rags stood slightly taller at the man¡¯s demise. The man seemed patience, waiting for the tension to past. The last assailant ending his gawking resolved to murder the stranger before him. Courtesy was not lost on the assailant as he asks for the cloaked man¡¯s name. ¡°Say, what is your name?¡± The worried man asked. The cloaked man dusted the grime of dust that was on his cloak from his weary travel to the estate. He then waited with no response at hand for the assailant to act. ¡°Bloody vagrant.¡± The assailant cursed. With his drawn sword, the assailant charged the cloaked form. five paces away, the cloaked form pivoted with his great cloak to the side and punched the man¡¯s throat with a dagger hidden in his rough palm. The last assailant gurgled out a fountain of blood before he collapses dead on the grassy dirt. The cloaked man knelt down to use the man¡¯s dark coat to wipe clean the blood from his bloodied dagger. Reanna watched in quiet fascination at the cloaked individual. He was quiet and precise, his movements were economic. She knew this cloaked individual was a master of his arts. ¡°Amazing!¡± Regulus joyously yelped out. ¡°Sshh, little man. Acts of killing should not be awed up when killing for the sake of it.¡± A somber and old voice intoned. The eerie words quieted Regulus joyous mood. The pupils of the assailant''s eyes dilated out, fading into the hazy empty gaze of the dead. The cloaked figure stood up from the corpse before him. Turning about, he then approached the other corpse that stop had spasming in the few moments it died. He pulled out the throwing dagger that was lodged in the man¡¯s eye socket. White mush and blood spurted out when it exited out from the socket. Heavy footsteps announced Balic¡¯s introduction to the scene before him. He was followed by two men garbed in black leathers, one of them held a leather-wrapped bundle that was dripping blood. Balic curious and bruised face, turn rabid with hidden fury at the sight of the cloaked man standing next one of his man¡¯s dead corpse. Reanna stepped aback aghast at Balic¡¯s entrance. Rushing thoughts of Jayce crossed through her mind. ¡®If Balic is alive?¡¯ Reanna horrifyingly thought. ¡°No.¡± She blurted out in denial. Jayce, her best friend, someone she had looked up to since they first met that winters day when her father took her to meet his vassal¡¯s family members. He was a snot covered boy who always had argues back with his parents. She admired his audacity to bicker against the much taller and older people, at that age. And when the years went on, when he grew older to train to become one of her household knights, Reanna''s infatuation grew. The thought of him dead because of this man, sent an unspoken fury thumping out from her heart. But her fury could not abate the deep sadness that was about to overcome her. Reanna¡¯s eyes were puffy from tearing at the death of her mother. ¡°Please, not Jayce, Regis, not Jayce.¡± She whispered. Balic left side was trickling blood down past the steal and down his leather pants. Reanna could see that Balic did not come out of it unscathed. The thought of it sent a small measure of comfort to her distraught mind. Balic cursed in frustration at his blood loss, then he sneered at the cloaked man before him. ¡°I do not know who you are, but stand aside.¡± He grunted. ¡°Stand aside?¡± The cloaked man repeated, in his elderly voice. ¡°Stand aside, old man,¡± Balic growled. ¡°Stand aside to watch the murder of children¡­?¡± The cloaked man remarked. ¡°However meager my chivalry is, That I cannot do.¡± He said resolutely. Balic gripped tightly the haft of his Warhammer, his steel gauntlets creaking at the action. ¡°So you think yourself a knight... Aye old man?¡± He sneered. ¡°I am no knight, but a weary traveler.¡± ¡°Pft, whoever you are, you are a dead man.¡± The cloaked man removed the hood of his cloak to show his weathered face. The first time Reanna saw the man, she stepped aback at his scruffy appearance. He looked unwashed and dirty. A man living off the streets. This was her savior, some hillbilly vagabond? And why was he talking about his chivalric duty when he looked like such a person, below such station. The man¡¯s hair was brunette long with splints and knots haphazardly prevalent around his head. Reanna did not know where this man styled his hair upon, maybe from a bygone village away from the common standings of any civilization. The man¡¯s beard was similarly styled with his head, with braids and splinted knots. A white braid, white as winter snowflake was most prevalent and unique feature she could remark with the man¡¯s head. But then she saw his eyes, sapphire blue, not as shallow as the stone but deep like the Rensoco Lake. ¡°I¡¯ve been called many names throughout the years, but you Ser can call me Siger the Struggler.¡± The elderly man said. ¡°It¡¯s past your bedtime, Siger the Struggler.¡± Balic sneered, sarcastically. Annoyed, Reanna mood began to swing from roiling fury to depression, back to roiling fury. This man, no this beast, destroyed the foundation of her life. If this Siger the Struggler does not kill him than Reanna definitely would. ¡°Pray tell, do you know the whereabouts of the lord of this Manor?¡± Siger inquired. ¡®Why would this man be looking for my father?¡¯ Reanna pondered. ¡°So you are looking for the lord of this manor huh?¡± Balic said, cynically. ¡°That is right.¡± ¡°Well¡­Siger the Struggler.¡± He sneered. ¡°--The Lord Baron is here with us.¡± Reanna and Regulus both had their hopes lifted up from Balic¡¯s announcement. Her father is here? Reanna swiveled her head around for any sightings of her father. Balic nodded to one of his fellow who was holding the bundled bag, dripping with blood. The man opened up the leather bag and tossed it¡¯s content to the ground. A circular form fell heavily onto the grass, painting the grass with dry crimson with a squelch. After the rolling had stopped, the dead gaze of Rembrandt hollowly stared back at shock expression of Reanna and Regulus. It was her father¡¯s decapitated head, the warm and blustering cheeks of her father were now pale and lifeless. Regulus began to sob again in front of the image before him. Reanna just stood there frozen, staring at her father¡¯s lifeless eyes. The shock of her father death kept her still from moving. It was just something she would have never comprehended. Her father, dead before her. It just did not make sense. Why? How could this have happened; It did not make any sense to her. Siger stared down at Rembrandt¡¯s decapitated head, gloomily. ¡°Such a waste,¡± he said. Siger than turn his head towards Reanna and her brother. Concern was on written all over Siger¡¯s face. ¡°For the final time, step aside old man,¡± Balic said, adamant resolve in his tambour. One of Balic¡¯s fellow pulled out a flintlock. He pointed it towards Siger as a threat. ¡°Once more into the fray... My ascension from death always leads me always into the fray.¡± Siger the Struggler murmured. Balic signals his fellow to fire his flintlock pistol at Siger. The fellow cocked the flint back than pulled the trigger. A small sounding explosion hollered into the night. Siger just stood there, no signs of any metal projectile hitting his hunched form. ¡°Blasting useless!¡± Balic said, disgust apparent on his face. With the tension released, Siger reacted with a pivot. His hands miraculously drew three throwing daggers out of nowhere. Reanna could not see where he drew it from. She knew there were experts who mastered the sleight of hand but with something dangerous as a throwing knife. She was surprised he did not cut himself. Siger with his right hand spread there were three daggers lodged between his knuckles. He threw. All three of the daggers spun syncly towards their chosen targets. Reanna was amazed at the trajectory. Within an instant, the daggers homed towards their targets. The fellow in the middle of reloading his flintlock was struck, straight through the forehead with one of those said daggers. The other struck another of Balic¡¯s fellow on the eye. Luckily for the fellow It was not deep enough to pierce through the brain. Still, the shock of the impact and the impairment, left the man screaming in excruciating pain. Cling, the center throwing dagger hit the center of Balic¡¯s lifted Warhammer, blocking it from Balic¡¯s chest. The dagger careened into the grassy dirt several paces away from Balic. Balic grunted then frustratingly cursed as he turns his head both to the side at both his two men. One plainly dead, the other screaming in horrified shock. Reanna utter amazement watched how Siger dispatched those men from afar with the ease of a gardener against the weeds. Balic cautiously stepped back away from Siger. He judged that he was outmatched. If any of those daggers hit any of his vital areas, he would be handicapped to continue. Besides the previously injured from his last fight with Jayce. Reanna groaned at the thought of Jayce, dead. Siger noticing Balic¡¯s hesitation took a few steps back. ¡°Open the gates, and let¡¯s go.¡± He said to Reanna and her brother, with his eyes still focused on Balic. Reanna had the urge to argue to him to kill Balic now. But looking between her brother and Siger, than glaring back at Balic; made her make up her mind. Clutching her brother¡¯s shoulder to follow by, she opened the Iron gate with her other hand. Reanna had to budge than push it aside with what little Strength she had. The gates squeaked open at her actions. All three passed through the iron gate into the misty dark of the forest that was behind the manor. Still in the sight of Balic, who was on the other side of the iron gate; Reanna asked. ¡°Who are you?¡± To Siger. ¡°A friend of your fathers¡¯¡± Siger replied. Reanna let go of her brother''s shoulder. She then grabbed his hand to pull him onwards, to follow the strange vagabond. *** ¡°Why didn¡¯t that man fight you? Ser?¡± Regulus curiously asked Siger. ¡°Because he knew he was outmatched and he was waiting on support.¡± ¡°You should have killed him there and now.¡± Reanna sharply said. ¡°Oh Lass, that red frizzy hair of yours, really fits you well,¡± Siger smirked. Unamused, Reanna grunted. ¡°What are both your Constitution, if it¡¯s not rude to ask?¡± Siger inquired. It was rude of him to asked, but Reanna grunted than said with pride. ¡°Mine is Fourteen.¡± She proudly stated, proud of her pedigree to be part of a family with one of the highest Constitution in the land. ¡°Eleven¡­¡± Her brother shamefully murmured. Reanna¡¯s brother was not as fit as she is currently, but she did recall when she was at his age she had a similar stat with her brother. But nothing compared to their father who has Eighteen on Constitution. ¡®Had¡­¡¯ Sadness drew down Reanna¡¯s pride, down onto the dirt and mud of reality. ¡°Good enough,¡± Siger said. ¡°--We will not stop hiking through the forest, until midday.¡± ¡°We are gonna walk all night?¡± Regulus groaned. ¡°I¡¯m afraid so, Lad.¡± Siger adamant. ¡°But look on bright side, it¡¯ll be harder for me than you young folks. I¡¯m too old to be galavanting around.¡± He said in feign amusement. ¡°Where are we headed?¡± Reanna asked, curious where this Vagabond is leading them. ¡°After this forest is the Revon Mountains, I recall. Then after that, who knows.¡± ¡°Revon Mountains?¡± Regulus nervously asked. ¡°Isn¡¯t that where monsters nest in?¡± ¡°That''s hogwash.¡± Reanna remark. ¡°Storyful of hogwash.¡± ¡°It¡¯s not hogwash,¡± Regulus said. ¡°Nana said that there are monster snatch people there. That''s why no one lives near the mountains.¡± ¡°They are commonfolk imaginings, little brother. Don¡¯t believe whatever the common sort tells you.¡± Reanna smirked. ¡°Don¡¯t worry Lad. When you have Siger the Struggler by your side, nothing will threaten you.¡± Siger comfortingly said to Regulus. Reanna frowned up at the man, then shrugged. ¡®What a strange vagabond.¡¯ She thought. ¡°We will head to my eldest brother after the mountains.¡± She said. Siger turned to her. ¡°Your eldest brother?¡± ¡°Yeah, Revon.¡± ¡°Same name as the mountains? Huh?¡± Siger chuckled. ¡°Funny¡­¡± She said, unamused. Revon was a famous name amongst the peerage. It was the name of the man who destroyed the Triumvirate Empire, and the first King of Regalia. So Reanna was not surprised when a mountain was named after him. After tracking a mile away from the manor, they hiked up a cliff to continue onwards. Reanna saw red glimmer reflect on the patchwork coat on Siger¡¯s back. She turned to find the source. Reanna stood there in shock when she spotted it. She had stiffened herself in disbelief. Across the forest trees, was her family¡¯s manor, burning like torchlight. Her brother and Siger turned to see what got Reanna to halt. Regulus slump down, again crying. Their summer manor was burning. The countless childhood memories she experienced at its confines were now sour ashes. The alit manor to Reanna was the ending of her cherished and privileged life. Reanna finally gave in and slumped down onto grass crying.