Oh God, please end my misery. I thought that I'd seen hell on earth when I set foot in this northern fort but I was wrong. This time, tonight, I have come to face with true hell, true horror.
"aND BAbY dON'ttt LET gooooooOOOOOoOOoOO~~~~~~~"
"AARGHH SHUT THE FUCK UP JOHN!!!!!"
As my luck would have it, I'd been paired up with John for the next month on the dark watch patrol. Patrolling is a very dull business. Incredibly important, yes, but very dull, duller than a sword that underwent 40 years of service without maintenenance under the hands of an unskilled rookie. Most times nothing happens, but when something does happen, it is usually disastrous. Because this northern fort is the frontline of defense against the demonic beasts from the Northern wastelands, we soldiers must ensure that a demonic beast flood doesn't spill over unto the rest of the kingdom.
Of course, the chance of that happening is slim to none. Which makes the night very dull, and painful experience, full of drooping eyes and half-hearted attempts at staying up.
But this idiot.
This insufferable idiot.
This insufferable, twice-blasted, TONE-FUCKING-DEAF BUFFOON thinks it's a GOOD IDEA TO FUCKING SING TO KEEP AWAKE---- ARGHHH!!!!
"LIKE BABY BABY BABY OH~~~~~"
I grit my teeth harder. I swear, even if the beasts decide to come hunting tonight, they'd think some god-forsaken slaughter's occuring in this fucking fort and run away in fear.
"Hahaha, anyways, enough of that. Wasn't that fun?" John asks, winking with a cheeky grin upon his face.
"... shut the fuck up John."
"Ah come on, you softy. I bet you want to try out singing after hearing m- woah woah woah, I'm just joking, joking."
I sheathe my sword back into its place, and then stare out unto the ever-encompassing darkness once more.
"Alright man, if singing's not your thing, then what do you propose?"
"I don't know."
"Well, fine. We could talk about girls I suppose."
I pause, then decidedly speak. "No."
"Ah, come one, I'll start. Once there was this girl I met in a tavern, oh man. She was...."
As John prattled on, I sighed inwardly, and gazed out once more, half-listening to my friend prattle on about his (undoubtedly fake) escapades with a variety of beauties he'd met before being stationed. I don't really want to talk about the fairer sex at the moment, as I'd received another letter from her from this month's distribution. It was a cream-colored parchment, with dark splotches, as if someone had spilled some liquid upon it.
Yes, just like the letter John pulled out of his vest.
Wait what?
"JOHN WHAT THE FUCK."
"Oh come on dude, I was curious, I didn't look inside, honest. Here, I'll give it back, if you talk about the person who sent you this letter." He smiled, dangling the parchement in front of my nose. I glared, then sighed. John had stuck around with me for some time, enough time for me to understand he really wouldn't look at other's personal items without permission. He would steal it for a time in order to get people to play along with his antics, and woe be unto those that do not play along, for he shall never see that item.... for several days. Then he'd be bored, and return the item. Unfortuately for me, I don't intend for others to see the contents of that letter, not even by accident. And if he were to leave it at his barracks for any curious eyes to detect....
"Alright, I'll play along with your games. The person who sent this letter huh?"
John grins widely, returns the letter, and settles down to listen.
Smirking slightly at his antics, I recall my memories of her. The scent of her hair, the peal of laughters, the tears glistening under the moonlight; the figure of my friend, my lover, and the cause of my demotion here.
----------------------------------------
During my stay at the Royal Academy, I met a girl. Vibrant and vivacious, charming and childishly capricious. Yet underneath her sunny exterior, a ponderous, deep mindset, matured beyond her years, as if looking into a deep spring pool at midnight, gazing upon the moon encompassed in its reflections. Brilliant in mind, average in strength, the pinnacle of ability when it comes to making friends, but hopelessly lost when it comes to romance; she was my sun, her red hair flashing bright crimson under the sunlight, dancing like flames; she was my moon, the reflections of my thoughts, the philospher's and thinker's audience; my muse, my love, my hope; me the Pierrot, her the Columbine.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
Yet she had left me for Harlequin.
I wooed her during my years together with her in the Academy. Usually, I don't have much sense for romance; as my mother had put when I was childe, I was like a "wooden block". But when I saw her, her sparkling laughter drifting throughout the air, in that instance, I was captured. I introduced myself, became friends with her, understood her, loved her. In my final year at the Academy, I asked her to a date, and surprisingly enough, she acceded with a blush. Later on, I would learn with amusement that she had never been asked out before; others had took her to be a flower upon the mountaintop, unattainable, unapproachable, only to be admired, never to touch. Yet I, a nameless nobody, had managed to secure her.
After graduating, and securing a post at the Royal Capital Guards, I approached her family, and managed to obtain their blessings. We spent our time free days together, and eventually, after my promotion to being a lieutenant, I proposed to her, the wedding date to be set in a month's time. We were in bliss.
But as they say, the good times never last. The higher one goes, the harder it hurts when one falls.
.......
One night, my... no, what I thought to be my friends. These fuckers, these "friends" of mine, told me they had a show to show me. They led me to a young noble's residence, where through a keyhole I saw her.
She was being violated by that young noble, with no resistance whatsoever.
When I came to, I held my blade within my hands, the bastard's dick chopped off, his eyes gouged out, and a gaping wound through his gut. I raised my blade high, fully intending to kill off my unfaithful fiance.
But.
I saw it.
The moonlight glistening, like silver droplets. Glistening, upon her teardrops.
I dropped my sword, turned around to see the members of the guard rushing in, my "friends" insufferable smirk, the men roaring at me to turn myself in for the murder of a noble. I gazed at them, and then turned my glance towards my love, my weakness, evidence of her defilement still upon her, as she quietly wept. I draped my cloak over her, despite my anger and hatred, and ensured her safety by sending her away to her family through my own personal men. I faced my crimes in prison, aware now that my friends were but vipers, plotting my demise.
Luckily, I killed the noble instead of losing my mind, defeating their purpose of obtaining a puppet through manipulation of the things I held dear. As the proof of the noble's unsavory dealings were in plain sight, without enough time to squirrel them away into the darkness, my sentence was reduced from execution to demotion, and sending me to this northern fort.
.......
I have to confess there is a mistake here in this story.
Although I called myself Pierrot, and her the Columbine that left me for Harlequin.
Her body may have left, but her heart remained. Those splotches on the letter? Those are my and her teardrops. Because I learned the full truth. She sold her body, because her family was in debt to the noble in question. She was ordered to not speak about it to me, else I would be dragged in to her situation. Desperate, yet unwilling to burden me, she resigned herself to misery.
----------------------------------------
"So John, tell me, what should I do?" I turn to him, tears streaking down my face, turning to ice through the winter chill.
".... What do you mean what should you do? Go write to her to get her back!"
"I can't. Even though she was going through difficulties, why couldn't she have told me? I'm willing to share her burdens. Why did she have to sell her chasitity? Do I mean that little to her?" I set my gaze towards the pavement. "No, that's not it. I'm merely justifying myself. The truth is, I don't know if I can love her anymore. Whenever I see her, it's accompanied by the image of that bastard. And whenever she sees me, I'm afraid of seeing pain in her eyes; I'm afraid of not loving her anymore, and her not loving me anymore."
"...." John stands silent.
"... You should go to her, of course."
John and I both whirl around at the familiar voice behind us. "General!"
"Evening. I was going for a jog, when I couldn't help but overhear your story, soldier." A jog? Who the fuck goes for a jog at the middle of darkwatch? I look, and see a jug with steam floating off on the side of the corridor, with various cups on a platter. Noticing my gaze, the General coughs slightly, then resumes.
"You claim you don't love her anymore? That being basically raped by a noblemen makes her unworthy?"
"No! Not unworthy, just...." I protest, but he cuts me off.
"Just what? Tell me, why did you propose to her? For her looks? For her charm? Her body? Her chastity? No." He continued, "You married her, because you care for her. Because you wish her happiness, in whatever she does. She is neither lesser through this experience nor is she less loved by you. The truth is, you are far less of afraid of not loving her, than her not loving you."
"... but how can she love me? I couldn't be there for her, and I would be but a reminder of her pain."
"Tell me again, why did you not strike her down?"
"... her tears."
"Yes. Deep down, you know yourself." He pauses. "She cried for you. She didn't want you to be hurt by her. How can she no longer love you? Idiot." He laughs at my stunned face, then continues. "When spring comes, go take a break; I'll allow it. Go see her, soldier." He then winks, and, as if to crush his cool image, continues, "After all, you have yet to consummate your marriage, yes? WAHAHAHAHA"
"... Thank you General." I actually knew she loved me still. I just couldn't bear to believe it; that she'd still love a useless husband like me.
But I won't let her be hurt because of me or my absence anymore. If I'm useless, I just have to change to be the greatest husband in the world.
"... Hey General, this is all good and all, but how do you know so much about women?" John asks, curious. I look onwards as well, curious to the General's past.
Surprisingly, the General stutters, "Uh, about that hrm, achm."
John smirks, "Hey General, this is just a rumor I heard, but you still don't have a wife at your advanced age, yes?" The expression upon his face was all the confirmation we needed. I snickered, and then stopped as the chill in the air intensified. The General was smiling, but it didn't reach his eyes.
John and I both turn our heads to look at each other, reading the others intent in the eyes, and then nod.
"HEY GET BACK HERE TWO! I'LL SHOW YOU A LONELY MAN'S ANGER AGAINST THE FULFILLED!!!"
During that darkwatch, the cries of two unfortunate soldier filled the air, dettering the demonic beasts through its sheer imagined violence.