“…the dwarven blacksmith had finally figured out how to make Bloodsteel. He would marry a new woman each year and on the night of their anniversary, he would plunge the Orichalcum sword he painstakingly made the past year, into her heart. You see, the Bloodsteel could only be made by tempering it in the heartblood of a dear one. That is why you should never make cursed weapons. Powerful they might be, but every power has a price…”
- Tales From The Mines, Orgax Bloomfax, 1456 B.C
I woke up with soft sunlight on my face. I had slept in late but luckily...no cold water today!. Maybe she wasn’t so annoying after all? I dressed in a loose shirt and ill-fitting pants that I had been given by grandma. Whose stuff were this? Come to think of it...I hadn’t seen Arin’s parents.
I came down from the loft. The room was tiny but very cosy. I loved the fact that it had a circular large window through which I could see the forests beyond the hills and the single moon at night. Yep, 1 moon at night, 2 in the day. I did think the ones during the day were planets but they were too close and yet not crashing, so have to be satellites. Then there was the beautiful Ring across the sky. At night, the edges of the Ring would glow with reflected sunlight, making a wide swath of soft light cutting through the sky at both horizons.
I walked down the stairs extending from the upper floor to the first. Arin heard me and poked her head through the open doorway, and asked, “are…alright”?
I smiled at her, remembering the scene last night and replied, “Yeah It doesn’t hur….” WHAT THE ACTUAL FUCK? How did I understand what she said?
She looked at my thunderstruck face. She came close and asked, “..trouble?” I shook my head and patted her head with half a mind.
“Don’t pat…not… kid” protested Arin, drawing away.
Oh yeah, I forgot. That head pat gesture was pretty much demeaning outside Japan.
First, I needed to calm myself and figure things out. For that, I needed food. I gestured at her.
“Alright, wash …hands…not sick”. Oi! you're the one treating me like a kid!
I went to wash outside and heard a fragmented song in grandma’s voice. So I can understand other’s voices too.
While eating, I tried to deduce what was different today from yesterday. I realized with a start, I wished for this. Last night, when I wanted from the core of my heart to understand Arin, the gift had probably activated. So it works on...wishes? I have to wish hard enough?
These gifts are real sketchy. Goddammit, gods, couldn't you have given me a talking sword or something?
The comprehension wasn’t total yet, I was still understanding the language in fragments, much like learning a new language back on earth. Listening more and more would probably increase the comprehension.
“Arin! grandma!”, a guff hail came from the gates. I know that voice! Grandma came round the garden and opened the door for him. “..Morning, Gustaf”
So his name was Gustaf, I thought as I saw the middle-aged guy stride inside the house. I waved at him. He came in and asked grandma how I was. Grandma just pointed at me and said “Ask...yourself”
I lifted up my shirt and tapped myself on the ribs, “No problem” I declared.
They stood with their mouth open.
I knew why. I spoke up in their language. I did consider hiding that I roughly understood them, but it would be counterproductive. I needed information. I needed books, knowledge and hiding my ability would hinder all of that.
“You…know language?” Asked Gustaf.
“No. Heard everyone…know little” I offered as best as I could. Even if I could speak better, I wouldn’t. It would be suspicious to have learnt a language so fast. It's quite suspicious even now.
“Ah. Fast learner” Gustaf beamed, “So, lad...come from?”
Probably asking where I am from? “Don’t know. Forgot every...all. Remember nothing”, I lied through my teeth, my face revealing nothing. Oh yeah, I picked the easy amnesia route. Now I just need to make them believe it.
“Name”. I pointed at myself, “Rigel”.
“Rigel, I don’t believe...lost...memories. But...everyone has things they...hide...secret. I won’t probe unless you...a danger. Understood?” Gustaf saw through my lie at once and replied sternly. I could hear the veiled threat in his steel like voice.
“Okay. Alright. Fine", I repeated all the words of affirmation I knew in this language. "Won’t harm anyone” I came clean. There was no point in fighting a lost battle.
“I am only giving you a chance as thanks for taking care of the Grilnder problem” Gustaf growled.
“Grilnder?” I asked, honestly confused. What was more confusing was that the language perception suddenly seemed to skyrocket. The Gift of Knowledge made no sense when it came to language! It's like the gods are doing this deliberately!
By now, even Arin had gathered in the room. She and Grandma heard my confession about my memories. She didn’t seem alarmed though. They took me in knowing full well the risk, so it probably isn’t surprising for them.
“Oh yes, I forgot that you don’t actually know the language”, Gustaf replied. “The monster you killed before passing out. Lured men away from the neighbouring villages and ate them. We made a group from our Guard corps to kill it and found you grievously injured beside the dead body of the Grilnder” he said in one breath.
“One...ask," I said my speaking skill still shaky, “Why you believe know..not language but don't believe I...forgot everything?”
“Because, kid, I verified it by trying to startle you many times when we were together.” He replied coolly. “Not reacting when I asked you to take your pants off in a deserted place was what finally convinced me” he added. A quiet amusement danced in his eyes.
This fucker!
I stared at him agape.
No one said a word.
After a few moments, Arin broke down in hysterical laughter. She held her sides till she choked on her own laughter.
Serves you right! I underestimated these people. Even if they were kind, they were not reckless.
Gustaf continued, “Besides, you were on watch the entire time, kid". He rested his hand on the hilt of the axe strapped to his side. "Our Village Head is kind, so she took you in to not trouble anyone. But we can’t very well have her harmed, do we?”
“Oh okay” I managed to croak, “So Karro...guard duty?”
“One of them", He cleared his throat. "He practically begged me to let him in when he heard you were living with Arin”. His bushy eyebrows wiggled as if sharing a quiet joke with each other. "Kinda cute, eh?"
“Uncle Gustaf!” Arin protested with an indignant face. She looked at me and sputtered “I don’t li…”
I cut in, "Want...learn...pointy thing", Goddammit what do they call swords in this world? I swirled my hand around...and "Magic?”
Arin puffed her cheeks as I hadn't let her finish.
You don't like him, right? I know! Tell him that! Not me!
“ I see. Yes, I almost forgot what I came here for", Gustaf nodded. "I heard that you were loitering around the practice sessions and then finally even got into a brawl with Karro. If are going to pick up a weapon..." he trailed off as his eyes locked on to mine, "might as well train. We need every hand we can get, and you too need back to give back to the village”
I nodded, "magic ?” I asked. He didn't say anything about it!
“Eh. Don't know about that", Gustaf shrugged. "You need aptitude for it and not many have that. You will have to test yourself and see.”
“When?” I asked eagerly. After yesterday's battle...My jaw clenched. I need magic. Now.
“Eager”, Gustaf approved. “Is your injury even alright? The healing magic healed the cracked ribs but there should still be pain”.
“I..okay”, I beamed. My mind was screaming, Magic Swordsman! Magic Swordsman! Magic Swordsman! I will be a Magic Swordsman!
“That’s a bit on the quick side” he looked troubled, “but not anything abnormal, isn’t it”? He asked the last part looking at grandma.
“No, it’s okay. Brats just heal fast” grandma replied smiling.
“Yeah, idiots heal fast,” Arin said scathingly.
You're the idiot! I made faces at Arin.
“Come on now, kid. Let's beat you u…in shape” Gustaf said with a suspicious glint in his eyes, walking towards the exit.
“If...I die, Gustaf killed” I told those two half-jokingly. Well, jokes suck when you can't speak properly.
“Don’t kill him”, said, grandma.
Wait, that's an actual possibility?!
“Stay away from Karro. He doesn’t like you”, Arin offered as a way of advice.
“Your fault!” I retorted while leaving the house. I could feel my knuckles turn white as my fingers balled into a fist. I will take things into my own hands. Fuck the gods.
~~~~
We went to the Knight Training grounds through the village plaza. The plaza bustled with people going about their lives. It had that energy and vividness you get to see in South-East Asian markets. Hawkers and peddlers displayed their wares while barkers tried to pull people into their shops.
People in colourful dresses bargained the prices savagely through loud shouting matches. Lots of snacks and other finger foods were being sold in stalls. The market was crowded enough that we had to squeeze our way in, breaking into strange poses to pass people, as if we were dancing. Fruits and vegetable were piled up in the stalls, fish and meat were a bit less. The fishes looked strange. And yep, as I thought, there were meat from lizard-like animals and a really plump bird that looked like a cross between a cotton candy and a chicken.
“The bi-monthly market in Shrafingshire gets lot of people,” Gustaf said noticing my curiosity.
“This...village, Shrafingshire?” I asked.
“Yeah”. Gustaf nodded to many a person who greeted him. He didn't offer any explanations to their questioning eyes as they looked me up and down.
I...probably can't ask about stuff like the three moons and all. It would be very troublesome to explain why I didn’t know of these things being a resident of this planet. The difference in culture excuse can cover a lot of things, but not all. "I came from a far-off land" excuse won't work much.
And...if I let slip I worked for a god...I shivered as I thought of the possibilities. Zain is probably not a liked god. He said so himself. And I wasn't going to take chances.
We finally reached the Training Grounds. Gustaf turned to me and declared, “From now on this is your temple. Forge your body and mind. We welcome you to the village guard training grounds, uphold it’s honour and spirit” he looked proud “Also, don’t die”.
Fuck. What did I get myself into?
He gave me a wooden sword and showed me how to swing in downwards.
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“300 swings by afternoon”, he ordered.
Well. Gotta do what you gotta do.
~~~~
I came back in the evening with sores and bruises all over my body that day. I did some weight training back at earth so I am not entirely new to training but…fuck this was grueling. My arms hung from my sides like lead weights. I had pain in muscles I didn’t knew I had. My entire body felt like one throbbing mass of aching pain.
But I was happy. For god... I mean gods know what reason, I didn’t hate this. I slept like a log that night.
Next day, I was barely able to move my body. But since I was let off training, I decided to accompany Arin in her herb-gathering. More like, I was forced to accompany as she dragged me.
"Stop! Stop", I had begged. But that heartless maiden only laughed her cruel laugh and pulled at my sore body. "I'll go! I'll go!" I had finally relented.
Arin's face had split in a mischievous smile.
Heartless! Heartless I tell you!
“…You know I was so surprised you could talk, I mean you picked it up so fast...” Arin kept talking the whole time we were out picking flowers and weed meant for medicine. Things had hardly changed now that I could properly communicate. She still chattered on all the time while I kept just listening. Kinda tiring, I thought as I heard her going off in a tangent, but sort of soothing. I a world as alien as this, someone who tries to immediately make you part of their life is something to cherish. I sighed. Now if only this person also didn't try to dump cold water on me every morning!
At noon, we sat on the hill under the shade of a tree eating lunch. Azure sky spread horizon to horizon while vast clouds traversed leisurely. The glade would be thrown into momentary shade as the clouds occasionally drifted under the ring that cleaved the sky.
I leaned back against a tree trunk while sucking on the nectar of a flower while Arin gathered up the remnants of our meal. She gushed forth with stories and tales of little import. The soft wind through the vale rustled the sea of grass, but it did little to stop Arin's torrent of words.
If she'd be silent. Just for a while...
My eyes lazed over to the edges of Arin's yellow robe that spread on he grass. I looked up to find her long black hair let loose on her back dance as she spoke on. It was as if she was made of this very valley itself, her form much like the dainty flowers around us.
A flower that talked all the time.
Arin noticed me staring. Her eyebrows quirked up. "What?" she asked with a tremble in her voice.
I shook my head. I just want to take a little siesta.
Her lips spread in a slow smirk.
Wait, wait, wait. She keeps talking on deliberately doesn't she?
She started again as if innocent,“ then you know, I had this white pinnetten mouse that...”
I sprang up as a sudden urge overcame me.
"Mff..." Arin bit back her words as I put a finger on her lips.
"Sssh", I tried to hush her. I pointed at the clouds, the valley, the mountains beyond. "Wind...singing. Birds playing". Of course, sounds weird with my vocabulary. "Listen...not talk".
Arin's eyes were wide. Her lips trembled softly against my fingers. "But I..."
"Shhh", I insisted again, this time pressing my finger harder against her soft lips. She gasped as I looked into her eyes, and shrunk back a bit. Too much? Probably. I looked at the half-scared, half-questioning look in her eyes. Of course, probably crossed a line. I jerked my hand back. Shouldn't have done that, I chided myself.
"Just...want to sleep", I mumbled as I slid back to lean against a tree trunk while closing my eyes. The wind picked up again, bringing with the rustling song of the grass.
Arin was silent for the first time. Shit. How mad is she? I cracked my eyes open just a bit to see her brush her lips to touch where my finger had brushed against her skin. Feeling my eyes on her she jolted her hand away while her skin blushed a faint crimson in the mottled light that filtered though the leaves.
It...doesn't look like she is mad though? I heard her mumble something as my eyelids grew heavy with sleep. Before long, I found myself in a blissful sleep, one of the few ones not terrorised by nightmares.
“… Serlia once told me that there are blue coranths over the hills, I have never seen them myself but…” I could hear Arin talking when my slumber grew thin after a while. I cracked my eyes open just a tiny bit and saw that evening had come to the world. The Sky had got a painter’s palette of violet, gold and orange. The single moon shone near the horizon as the last vestiges of light remained in the sky.
Hmm? I found my head on Arin's lap. Did I slid as I slept? Should I get up? As I thought that, I felt the touch of soft hands on my brow brush unruly locks away. Arin cradled my head while she talked incessantly.
“… then Rivalzol went for a bear-hunt and came back 3 days…” I closed my eyes once again and went to sleep. It's not that bad. It was a strange comfort; Arin's torrent of words were like a warm blanket that enveloped me. It made me knew I was safe, I was wanted. I...I actually like this, I admitted to myself. Maybe she does too, I hoped. I really do. My body relaxed. I hadn't even realised how tense I had been ever since I came to this world.
This is good, I thought to myself. Maybe...I can just stay here? Not having to fight, not having to participate in a war I didn't understand. I sighed a little. That...is thinking too far ahead. For now...I snuggled closer to Arin. I'll just take it one day at a time.
I didn’t let Arin know I was awake. I turned my head around her lap, facing her this time while still keeping my eyes closed. But...she already does know, doesn't she? A small smile spread across my face. I felt Arin's hands brushing against my hair slow down just for a moment.
Days turned into weeks as I set my life into Shrafingshire. Through diligent practise I became a master of the swords, defeating the sword saints. Not. As if the Gods would make it that easy! But I wasn't too bad either. I could hold my own in a spar now.
"Stop!" Gustaf barked. "Get up, Grein", he instructed the trainee in front of me. "Go to the nurse, and after that 25 laps around the ground".
Grein, the muscular young guy grumbled. "It's not fair!", he whined. "Rigel hasn't even been here for a full turn of the season and he can already disarm me!"
I can do more than disarm you. But that'll be suspicious.
"Then you know what you have to do", Gustaf said in a gruff voice. Grein sighed again before jogging towards the nurse's room to get his wounds treated.
"How many times..." Gustaf whirled around to face me. "Have I told you to hold back? You not only injured your sparring partner but left yourself exposed".
"Sorry", I mumbled. Yep, he isn't wrong. My fists clenched. Why did I get so excited every time in a battle? Why do I feel this strange rush?
"Still, your speed of improvement", Gustaf scratched his scraggly beard. "Are you sure you didn't learn swords before?"
"Yes", I replied. Shit! is he suspicious? "Maybe I just am talented?" I added.
His eyes narrowed. "Try not to get killed". He cracked his neck. "I don't want to have to stand in front of Arin with your dead body. Or her grandmother".
I nodded. I have already died once though.
"I mean it", he blustered. "Don't break that girl's heart. Talaviel knows what she sees in you, but I haven't seen her this happy since her parents..." he trailed off. "Don't break her heart".
Wait, it's that obvious? I did think she rather liked me but...
"I mean, it's not hard to see", Gustaf snorted. "Kids". His face turned into a slight grimace as his eyes fell on Karro practising far away. "Too bad for him though"
For now, he is so head over heels, he hasn't noticed yet. Probably won't be pretty when he does.
"Back to training!" Gustaf barked. "Those monsters and thieves won't kill themselves. So you all are the only defence our villages have! Put your back to it!"
Oh yeah. Like I had thought, these guys weren't anything fancy like Knights. In frontier villages like Shrafingshire, the Empire had its hands full with greater threats. So, for their own protection, clusters of villages raised their own guard corps to defend themselves.
"We are in the Ishkal mountains!" Gustaf continued in a lecture I had been subject to quite a few times. It was now the brand new recruits' turn to get blasted by his absolutely lovely voice that sounded like rockslide. "Our three sides are the Ishkal range. You think that protects you? NO!"
The forests beyond are wildlands! Full of hungry beasts and even worse: bandits! I repeated in my mind what he'd say next. I mean, it's the exact same lecture every time. He doesn't even change it. The first couple times had been awed but with the improvement in my language...I realised he was just reading from some play. Yep.
"...worse: bandits", and like every instance before, Gustaf didn't change a word. "The Morrilet Dukedom..." his voice grew quieter, "they have other...things to worry about. They won't do shit to help a remote village like ours".
Oi! Don't commit lese majeste!
"I am not asking much", Gustaf let his eyes wander over the new recruits; awe writ plain on their shining faces. "There's no sentient races like Beastmen, Elves Dwarves, Dragonkin here. There's none of the rintrump shit variety of religions and other absurd things to worry about".
Gustaf really shows his Knight heritage. No respect whatsoever for other religions and races and their customs. Man, if the Dukedom hadn't treated his village his shit, I wonder if he'd even spoke one word sideways about Ebraven Empire.
"So, all I ask of you as a citizen of Ebraven Empire is that you protect your homes, your families, and your fellow citizens".
A round of applause broke out over the training grounds as the trainees clapped with awed looks upon their faces. I couldn't see Gustaf's face but I knew his face glowed too. He is too fond of his speech!
"Now off to training! Dismissed!" He barked.
However, the world outside this Hamlet is not so simple. This world; Sangraal, as they called it in Aruvahn language was spread over 9 continents. Nine continents forged in bloodshed and wars that break out at the drop of a hat. I sighed as I saw the new recruits excitedly trying out new weapons. The world isn't good vs evil out there. But as far as Shrafingshire was concerned, it might as well have been.
I concentrated on my own training as I swung my dummy sword downwards. But still, why didn't I find any mentions of Zain or Astria? All my frenzied search amongst the scant few books in the village had yielded nothing except the usual myths and praises. But the one think that had jumped out at me was the War of the Gods. Astria didn't quite lie. Many millennia ago there really was a war that almost drove this world to its destruction.
I closed my eyes as I recalled the passage that I had read so many times in order to find a clue. Any clue. Some mortals banded together to fight their own gods. The gods retaliated in fire and fury. But they also called a Covenant and decided to stop using the mortals of Sangraal for their own battles.
And that's why, I swung down the blade harder. These fuckers bring otherworlders like us to fight their battles. But something didn't quite add up. The gods looked awfully afraid for beings with ultimate powers to have called a covenant when the mortals revolted.
I had once asked grandma why did the humans followed the gods if they had once fought against them.
Grandma-Wasslia’s eyes had widened and she had taken a sharp breath inwards. “Millennia upon millennia change a lot of things, Rigel. People forget the past and find ways to blame their ancestors for the misfortunes”, her voice sounded bitter. “People have reconciled with the gods, calling the generations that fought against the gods delusional. They are termed the Fallen Kin, the Betrayers and the like for their treason towards the gods. People hold the betrayal responsible for the appearance of the monsters and the black spires after the war.” Grandma added.
“The races would rather forget the betrayal; or the gravest sin as they call it. The fallen kin are blamed for the Ascension, the departure of the gods leaving Sangraal. Rigel, do not question the gods in public”, grandma Wasslia had said with a heavy, quavering voice, “People are not kind to those who do”.
She had some unpleasant experiences.
Now that I had some time after my swordsmanship has stabilized somewhat, I decided to broach the topic of magic. When I asked Gustaf about it, he asked me to talk to Grandma Wassilia because, except Karro, no one in the guard training knew much about it.
When I asked her, Grandma gave me a book about introductory magic and its theories. She warned me though, “Not all people have an aptitude for magic. The only way to know is try casting and see if you can do it. Lots of people start early in their childhood but only become able to cast after many years”.
She had added after a pause, “Don’t be sad if you don’t succeed. Everyone has things they can and cannot do”.
With trepidation, I had opened the book.
Zain and Astria were nowhere to be seen. It had been a month without a god opening a hole in my body. And all things considered, I'd rather they fucked off forever. But, rarely do our wishes get answered, don't they?
Oh, if only had I realised sooner what was to follow.