March 21, 892 AE (After Exile). At The Crystalline Palace.
The servants open the big door that leads to a room with a huge table in the center of it as they hear arguments break out between two lords. They present the food in a hurry and leave afterwards.
“My King, if you go down this path, there will be nothing but hounds of the Imperials chasing after us,” the man in brown robes tries to explain slowly in front of his king.
“They can try to rip my honor, but I’ll not be giving them. You understand this, Advisor Cantellan. Out of all people you should understand this,” the said king replies with hands behind his back.
“But it is not honor to defend, my Lord. It is your family that I care about, that you should defend about,” Advisor Cantellan, again, tries to hold off his anger and explains it slowly to his king.
The king grunts and hammers the table with his hand, “Advisor Cantellan. We, just like our ancestors, are a loyal house to Galaxia. If The Queen finds out we’re doing this, we’ll be branded traitors. You know that?”
Closing his eyes and sighing, Advisor Cantellan replies in slightly lower volume, “Our liege shall not know about it, my Lord. I’ll handle the whispers and treasons.”
The king is shocked by his advisor's statement and holds his advisor's arms, before cooling down as he whispers, “If they wish to,” he pauses, “if they wish to attack us, they’ll come to our atmosphere with ships ready to bomb The Queen’s army. They can try, but they won’t win, Advisor Cantellan.”
Advisor Cantellan steps back, removing himself from the clutches of his king before saying, “When the Imperials arrive in quick moments at our food halls, trust me, my Lord. We can’t rely on an army thousands of light years away while Trianna Erving hears the news of your rejection. She’ll come in an instance we won’t know of and strikes us while Queen Ruby is fancy-flying to our home!” This time, Advisor Cantellan barks. He is as frustrated as his debate’s opposer. He continues but cooling down, “Look, my Lord. If the enemy marches at our food halls, I won’t be able to protect you. I’m a mere advisor, not a commander, nor a soldier.”
The king replies, “You were speaking of treason against our liege, but now you’re speaking of treason against your own king. Did I get it right, my advisor?”
“My family is my honor. You should understand this, my Lord. I do not wish to have my family butchered for another pointless war of yours,” Cantellan tries again to convince his king.
The king this time is slightly offended at the notion of pointless war of his, “Hadn’t it been for my wife, I’d have your neck sliced. I’m giving you a second chance, Advisor Cantellan, and for the sake of your neck, do as my honor commands you to.” The king sounds threatening but he knows he can’t slay the brother of his wife just for a small argument of treason. He’s forgiving for his kin. He orders once again, “And nobody has mentioned anything about a goddamn war. We won’t say no to Lady Trianna, I know that’s suicide, but we’ll offer the terms. The terms we’ve discussed yesterday. Now, go do your task, Advisor Cantellan.”
Advisor Cantellan smirks and replies, “As your honor commands me to, My Lord.”
The king watches his advisor turn around and leave the room while the king is seen holding down a pen to write something on a piece of paper.
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Somewhere on another planet, still the same year.
The planet Acrona is at its coldest record when he lands down onto the platform he is being guided to by the miraculously working auto-maneuver system of his brand new ship. He’d been keeping in contact with his friend Arthur since a couple days prior to landing here. Surely, this man will arrive on time, he shrieks sarcastically in his thoughts. He’s been keeping knowledge of his brand new ship away from Arthur, so he’d like to give the man a surprise. Upon lowering the exit platform of the ship, he’s greeted by a man working there.
“That your ship, ey?” The worker concerns him with the first question of the day.
He nods a little and sterns his body to look a little more intimidating.
The worker arches one of his eyebrows, “What’re you posing ‘bout? Yer name and holdings,” he doesn’t sound like asking but he’s waiting for a reply while gripping a pen’s cover right above his mandible and staring at his writing board.
“Ralf, Ralf Xerlayne Dixon. Holdings status is cargo of null, just an ordinary homecoming,” he replies as he introduces himself as Ralf, yet he knows that’s the name he’d give to strangers. People call him Dixon, at least those who are close enough with him. Dixon studies the worker with sharpened eyes due to the busy port with other ships inbound and outbound. He proceeds with a question, “You’re new here?”
The man finally stops writing and lowers his board, “Depends. Is you leaving for 4 years seems short?” the worker strikes back rhetorically.
The worker isn’t wrong, Dixon thinks. He just came from a 4 year journey chasing gold. It’s his longest period away from Acrona since his entire life has him working as a mercenary and raised as one in this very planet. It never crossed his mind that 4 years would be so aggravating in changes. The port doesn’t even look like how it was back 4 years ago when he departed for the long journey. It’s depressing to see him growing up as a mercenary, but he doesn’t dwell too much on that thought. There’s no point in having regrets. This is the life he has been taken for and it’s not like he’s dead. But the change does raise questions in his head. What would Reniera look like now? Heck, what would Orion look like? How would the prin-
“Dixon! Over here!” a young man of Dixon’s age shouts at him. He has a small goatee with his hair short and a mole in his right cheek, close to the right corner of his mouth. The man rushes with steps being held back by the luggage he’s carrying. In the mere distance, the man drops the luggage, opening it upon touchdown and nothing spills as it’s empty. The man then proudly opens his arms wide, expecting a hug from his best friend.
“Jan' be goods. You’re not a boy anymore, Arthur!” Dixon with his body still facing the wrong way, but head tilted to Arthur proudly says. They share a hug, embracing the time away between both of them. He holds tight right before letting Arthur go, but his hand rests on Arthur’s shoulders. “My goodness. It’s been years, hasn’t it?” Dixon says. Eyes probably a little teary but he chuckles while he looks down to their boots as if they’re the ones talking. Arthur is already 20 years old at this point. He’s not that little sappy boy anymore who would cry every time Master Kraven didn’t give him permission to leave his house. Janus probably trained him hard as it’s visible to see scars on his body, though not as deep as Dixon’s.
“I wish there could be a celebration, but Master Kraven has warned us not to. He’s ordered you to meet him straight away,” Arthur says a little whimpering, probably disappointed by their Master, still as strict as ever.
“Come, let’s not bummer. I’ll talk to Master Kraven the moment we arrive,” Dixon assures him while leading both of them to his ship’s cabin.
Walking to the ship, the port sounds are deafening enough for them not to hear any words uttered by each other. However, they keep on moving to the ship cargo. When inside the ship, Arthur examines every corner of the ship's interiors. Dixon knows he’d never seen the inside of a spaceship before so he lets him ogle around. First thing after the entry platform, they’re greeted by a small rounded chamber that has buttons embedded on the walls. Arthur dares not to touch those buttons. There is one door that leads to the main hallway of the ship. Reaching out over the door, Dixon points out, “Left is showers and personal cabins, right is armory and cargo, while middle is the hub and pilot cabin, we’re not going anywhere but the cargo.” After stating the routes, he waits in front of the middle door that leads to the hub, while Arthur grins widely as if waiting for instructions. There is a moment of silence and awkwardness before Arthur realizes that Dixon is waiting for him to lead the way. In panic, Arthur walks forward trying to get to the door behind Dixon before Dixon interrupts, “Uh, huh. Right for armory and cargo, remember?” Arthur sprints in embarrassment. He’s still quite unattentive, Dixon thinks, but he lets it slide. Walking after the running Arthur, he turns his head around the door that leads to the cargo which is the door to the right at the right wing. Thankfully, the label ‘STORAGE’ is displayed with lights on so that Arthur could see better and heads to the right area he’s supposed to be in.
After packaging Dixon’s belongings into the luggage Arthur has brought, they head out quickly to find themselves amongst a crowded marketplace covered in snow. They walk across the marketplace in order to find their stay, which is right at Master Kraven’s house.
“Quick patch up. Tannerport been this gloomy before?” Dixon asks Arthur while walking through the marketplace.
“Once or twice, yeah. This is definitely the worst we’ve ever been. It’s not like those glaciers would bring good news by the end of winter either,” Arthur answers while pointing to a glacier seen around the horizon.
They’re closer than ever. It seems that Tannerport might have to melt it down before flooding the entire city. Dixon thinks the citizens are looking more depressed. No need for nature to cry it out loud for them in the form of a melting glacier. It does take around 10 minutes to reach a neighborhood Dixon is familiar with. It hasn’t changed that much apart from the aggressive pile of snow forming on top of the rooftops. Dixon walks over to the cul-de-sac and knocks at a house with green paint. The door opens to a bulk guy with a knife scar on his left eye. The bulk guy scans for a bit and lets them enter without breaking the ice. Even their sitting place is appointed through the point of the bulk guy’s finger. Not a single word is uttered, not until the bulk guy comes back with a slouchy old person in black robes, height’s around 160 cm tall, and hair as white as the snow. The old man sits down on a chair by the hearth while the bulk guy remains at his left staring at Dixon and Arthur. Before having to talk, the old man offers the palm of his right hand, expecting something to be weighted on it. Dixon grabs a purse of coins and places it slowly on the old man’s palm. The old man doesn’t have to either open it or even look at the purse to judge what’s inside.
Finally, the ice breaks bringing more tension when the old man says in a rough voice, “Four years and this is what you’ve returned with?” The old man is stuttering.
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“Master Kraven, you need to understand that people wer-”
“Four years! I’ve tolerated your insolence and your escape. This is what you paid in return. If I hadn’t trusted you, I would’ve sent mercenaries to hunt you down. But, no. I trusted you out of all people to bring us gold, yet this is what you return with!” The old man, Master Kraven, shares in anger. Master Kraven then throws the purse to the bulk guy standing behind him before leaving the room. Right at the tip of the door, he orders, “You are to follow Master Janus’ orders right now. He has a job just for you. You’d better pray it ends well.”
With a gulp stuck on his throat, Dixon remains speechless, then he heads outside to the backyard without giving it a second thought. He sees Master Janus, the bulk guy who greeted him and Arthur at the door. Master Janus dons his armor up and Dixon knows what he is trying to do. The moment he returns to this planet, he’d thought of a nice and relaxing bath, but no thanks to his purse of coins, he has to train with Master Janus.
“What do you call a worm that comes out of its hole for the first time and proves itself just another worm?” Master Janus sarcastically asks Dixon a question. Dixon knows best just to remain silent before Janus continues, “A stupid worm, ha!” Janus is having a laugh at his own taunt as Dixon takes the training staff, not having to wear the training armor since he’s had his armor from his journey. Dixon plans to remain calm and calculated during the spar, but it isn’t until Janus talks yet again.
“So, what did you do with the money? Were you whoring?”
Dixon, furious at this assumption, swings his staff to the right hoping to surprise Master Janus, but Janus blocks it and steps back to avoid the momentum of the swing.
“Sinking?”
Again, Dixon now tries to swing from above, but Janus turns his body, letting Dixon’s staff hit straight to the ground.
Staff stuck at the ground, Janus surprises Dixon with an elbow to his face, bleeding his nose. “Snoring?” he asks again.
Yet, another response Dixon gives is another slow swing aimed at Janus’ left rib. The moment Janus is about to block it, Dixon lets go of his staff and delivers a punch right to Janus’ gut pushing him back and he’s coughing for a while. Satisfied, Dixon picks up his staff from the ground.
Janus smiles, “Cheeky. I thought you didn’t learn on your journey. Turns out, you learned to fight like a coward.” This time Janus swings first and lands a hit on Dixon’s staff.
Dixon tries hard to block all Janus’ swings before he sees an opportunity to strike Janus' right leg dangling without protection. Dixon tries to tackle the leg with his own, but Janus suddenly rolls his body and hits Dixon’s knee pit, making him fall.
Janus asks one more question to Dixon who’s lying down with face kissing the ground, “Drinking?” ending the training. But before they end it, Janus has the mind to make the defeated man suffer. He swings his staff at Dixon for a long time.
Hit after hit Dixon would take it and in each hit, he coughs, draining his lung from air. As he tries to raise his right hand, though proven to be powerless, Janus remains cruel as ever. He’s still the same Janus he saw four years ago.
After Dixon’s pretty face is bruised and his face marred as if bread were filling his skin, Janus stops and orders him, “You better wake up early tomorrow because I have a job, worm.”
Dixon sighs with relief after seeing Janus walk inside the house again. It takes a momentarily eye adjustment to see Arthur has been standing there the whole time. Arthur then runs to Dixon and helps him. As Arthur raises him from the ground, he notices Dixon’s bleeding.
“You’re bleeding!” Arthur points out.
“How could I fucking bleed from a staff fight? Embarrassing.” Dixon can’t help but chuckle in shame. He stops and sees Arthur deadly worried about his blood. He convinces him, “Just my recent wound opening up. Take me to Miranda.”
Arthur seems to be taken aback from his order, but he nods and helps him walk to a house in the neighborhood. Inside, they find an old lady who seems to be the owner. “Lady Jane, my friend here is in need of stitches,” Arthur begins the conversation.
“Lay him on the table over there, dear Arthur!” The lady orders in return. She comes back with bundles of stitches.
It’s not the first time she treats patience like this, of course, but something’s bothering Dixon’s mind. His curious eyes wander around to look for something. Someone. So, he asks, “Where’s Miranda, my Lady?”
The lady stops for a while in surprise then she gazes at Arthur. Arthur nods and leaves both of them alone to talk. With determination, she answers, “Miranda, my little angel, has passed away.” She couldn’t contain her tears saying that. She breaks a dam while sniffing endlessly. She still can’t get over it, it seems.
“My goodness. What took her?” Dixon asks and tries to be respectful to the lady.
“The cold got into her. It was horrifying. Her nails were peeling, her throat was swollen, and her skin was crackling. The cold took my sweet sun,” she keeps crying while stitching Dixon’s wound. Her hands were shaking and it made it painfully slow to take care of the wound.
Dixon wanted to break his dam too hadn’t it been for the pain he’s taking from the lady’s stitches. When the wounds are stitched, Dixon stands and holds the lady’s hands saying, “I’m sorry, Lady Jane. Miranda was everything to me. She was like a little sister and she was the warmth of this world for me as well. My masters could break me to pieces, split me to halves, feed me to the dogs, yet she would always be there. She healed me as if I was pieces of a puzzle. As if I was someone worth wasting time for.” Dixon’s words cut his throat as he’s struggling not to break down in front of the lady. They hug in understanding before they settle down and he pays for her trouble.
He steps out to find Arthur was sitting outside on the small steps in front of the clinic. He buzzes through without saying anything to Arthur so Arthur follows him in a hurry. Trying to match his pace, Arthur is looking at him. Dixon gives him a look through the corner of his eyes before staring at the road again. “You didn’t fucking tell me Miranda died,” he clenches his fist in anger.
“I di—You were bleeding, Dixon!”
“No! You had hundred steps between our house and the clinic, yet it didn’t cross your mind to fucking tell me that Miranda fucking died! Did you want me to embarrass myself? To make an old lady cry? Is that an amusement to you?” Dixon is furious.
“You’re overreacting, Dixon.”
“Overreacting? Of course I fucking would! Miranda was like a sister to me!” Dixon strikes back. At this point, people on the streets glance as they pass by.
“Okay, then!” Arthur moves forward to stop them from walking. Dixon tries to move past him, but he blocks him with his body. He says, “I would if I was responsible for it. Who do you think you should hear this from? An old lady who happens to be her mother or a fucking mercenary bastard who would kept on banging on her door as if I was a rooster in the morning every time our masters fucking beat me to a pulp? Who would you like to hear it from?” Arthur is angry at Dixon’s overreaction.
“I would hear it from the best of my friends. Are you, now?” Dixon asks calmly, trying to shake Arthur.
They walk again but in silence. By the time they reach the Masters house, Dixon’s turn to stop Arthur. “Look, you were right. I was overreacting and I’m sorry. I was just angry and I don’t know. It felt like it was a culmination of the shits that have been thrown at me today. You know, Master Kraven’s rejection, Master Janus’ beating me, and Miranda’s death. I think it was the sum of the shits that got to me. And I’m sorry, I didn’t know you’ve suffered so harshly from the masters.”
This time, Arthur feels the upper hand at this conversation. He says, “Of course, I’ve suffered! We all have! Both of us have! And worse, you were gone for four years and the masters had all the time in the world to beat me! Only me!” Arthur pushes Dixon a little and he hurries to his chamber next to a chicken coop without the intention of looking back at him.
Dixon is alone now. He lets Arthur go as both of them need space, especially him. So, Dixon turns around to see his old chamber next to the pine tree in the backyard, right across Arthur’s. Dixon tucks into his bed and prepares himself to sleep.
Dixon wakes up to the sound of Arthur calling him outside the door of his chamber. Arthur claims that the masters were expecting him. Cursing, he rises slowly and tugs his armor on, fitting every piece correctly. He stares at a mirror and looks at a swollen face thanks to the training yesterday. He smiles a little, amused by an old face he hasn’t seen in a long time. Even in his four years of journey, he had never gotten this badly hurt. He opens the door, stretches his body a little bit and walks to the main building to see that Master Janus is prepared to go somewhere.
Master Kraven next to Master Janus then proceeds to talk, “Good morning, Dixon. Are you ready for your task?”
Dixon nods and waits for further instruction as they whisper to each other. Dixon can’t make up the words from the slings of their mouths, but he doesn’t care. A couple of whispers later, Master Janus walks past him and he follows, cutting a little smile towards Master Kraven before leaving. Dixon knows Master Kraven has never been the type to beat and prosecute. He’s always been the nice teacher though Master Kraven does get angry a lot. Sometimes he wonders whether every hardship he endures is planned by them or not. Because on rare occasions, Master Kraven would be the loving father, but most of the time he’s as cold as snow. Master Janus would sometimes crack jokes, but most of the time become the beater. One thing he knows though, Master Kraven has always been the person who commands. Master Kraven never stains his hand by beating his students, but often he orders Janus to. Master Kraven is always the mind, but never the body. At first, he couldn’t believe that such a person existed. People that pass punishments or acts of dishonor, without putting a single stain upon his name. Dixon would learn this however in his four years journey. He learned that such people, even worse than Kraven, exist. It’s not like Dixon can one day wake up, decide to be a good mercenary and end that cycle. He’s just a mercenary in the little corner of space.
“Having fun daydreaming, worm?” Master Janus pulls Dixon out of his reflection.
“Yeah, of old times, Master.”
“Old times when you were a coward and ran away for four years? Please, Master, don’t beat me!” Janus imitates a dying fox voice in the last bit.
“No, Master Janus. The past where I had family.” Dixon tries to provoke his Master, but deep down, he’s thinking about it too.
“Haven’t we taught you to consider us as one? You know, family?” Janus taunts Dixon.
Dixon remains silent.
“Well, I shall beat you into it, then.” Janus grins while saying those words.
“Why are you so bent on breaking us? I’ve seen Arthur's scars. Did the poor steward boy deserve it? Why should a steward be beaten to pulp. He’s not even a mercenary,” Dixon protests against Janus.
“Look here, worm. You know jackshit about the steward boy. You’ve been four years apart. Why do you think he’s a ripped man now?”
“Cause you kept on beating him and he had to bring himself strong, Master Janus,” Dixon feels a burden being released after saying that straight to the mouth of Master Janus.
“Spare me. Heh, and you call yourself his best friend. No wonder you were thinking of your family back in Orion,” annoys Janus.
“Just, shut up,” Dixon ends the conversation. It doesn’t take him long to realize that they’ve reached the city gates. Dixon sparks another conversation, “What has Master Kraven sent us to do?”
“Send YOU to do,” Master Janus pauses before giving him a letter of contract and continues, “Have fun spotting.”
Janus is about to leave before Dixon calls him out, “Spotting? I’ve done the worst of the worst compared to spotting in my four years leave. You want me do spotting? This is a joke!”
“It is a joke. Better yet, it is a joke intended for the joker.” Janus replies while pointing his finger at Dixon and laughs as he leaves him alone.
After some hours, Dixon returns to the house and his entire body is covered in blood from head to toe. Master Janus laughs upon seeing the visuals.
“The spotting was no joke,” Dixon says seriously and throws the fur of the animal he’s slain. It looks like a giant bear that is mostly known to live way up North, not here.
Master Janus stops his laughing and replies calmly, “Good.”
Dixon tries to speak back but he holds his tongue. The best he could do is to give the coin he has taken from the job to the table Master Kraven is leaning his arms to. As he turns to leave, he hears Master Kraven grasping the air to say something and he stops to listen.
“Welcome home, Dixon.”