JAIME FONTOYA

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“So, what was my father like?” I asked as we walked through town.

Askeladd chuckled. “He was obnoxious and got into a lot of trouble when we were in the Valois military. He never listened to anyone.”

“Ah, so that’s where I got it from. Everyone back in Gilead always complained about how I never listen.”

“His obnoxiousness was how you happened. It’s taboo for elves to marry terrans because of the drastic difference in lifespans. Terrans only live a tenth of an elf’s life. We all warned your father about how he’ll be heartbroken if he marries a terran girl. He didn’t listen.”

“How did Mother and Father meet?”

“When the Nelbrandts militarized the nation, many soldiers from the old houses transferred over. Your father and I included. We were stationed at a town that had Lancaster elitists with orders to make sure an uprising didn’t happen. Your father and I were always guarding this one area. Every day, there was this little girl that came by. It was obvious she had a crush on your dad—the cute kid crush. Your father and I went along with it, accepting the flowers she gave. As she grew older, your father became fond of her. Once she came of age, they married.”

“Wait, wait, wait. My mother was a little girl and my father…”

“Yeah. As I said, your father is scum. But, if an elf were to fall in love with a terran, we always thought that marrying younger was better because you could cherish more years together.”

“You’re an adventurer now,” I pointed out. “Why did you leave the military?”

“I grew bored of standing guard all year round. I wanted excitement and the thrill of not knowing if today would be my last. Your mother joined the military when she turned sixteen so she and your father could stick together. King Arthureus thought they were a lovely couple and gave them jurisdiction of Thanril—where you were born.”

I clenched a fist. “Their love story was already short, yet it was cut much drastically shorter.”

Askeladd nodded. “Yes, I’m so sorry about that. I don’t know why Scar would target them. They were lovely people and tried to remain invisible.”

“What’s your Tarot card?”

“Don’t know. Never got one. It’s not mandatory and I just see it as an omen. Especially for a wild warrior like me. Besides, I don’t believe in it.”

“Mine is Justice,” I told him. “It’s very fitting.”

“Why so?”

“Because I will hunt down Scar and kill him. But before I strike the final blow, I will say to him: Hello, my name is Jaime Fontoya. You killed my parents. Prepare to die!”

“Justice or is it vengeance?” he wondered. “There’s a fine line between the two. You’ve got to be careful not to cross it. If you do, there may never be coming back.”

“So you’re saying I shouldn’t try to avenge my parents?”

“I’m not saying that. I want to do the same. Just don’t get so caught up in it that killing Scar is the only thing you can amount your life to. Either you fail tragically to reach that goal or live the rest of your life with no purpose after you achieve it.”

Askeladd wanted to show his appreciation to the people who joined. We dropped by the marketplace and bought cheap cuts of meat for tonight’s supper.

“By the way, how far are you planning on travelling?” I asked.

“I don’t really have a plan. I wander to wherever my feet take me. Why?”

“Nothing. Ilias said that, after all of this, the two of us should tag along with whoever is travelling closest to Headrig’s Pass.”

Askeladd rubbed his goatee. “No need to ask anyone. I’ll take you two home.”

“Wait, really?”

“I’m an elf. I don’t see why I can’t give up a couple of months to escort you home. I can continue to hone your swordsmanship on the road. There are also a lot of stories I need to tell you about your parents. Only if you want me to accompany you home, of course.”

“Of course I do!”

“The only problem we’ll have is with the Guild. You and Ilias should become Adventurers so you can earn money, but we won’t be able to form a party because my rank is too high.”

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A crowd gathered in front of a fenced-in abandoned manor. The lawn within was withered and dried. On the property were two men—two gunslingers.

“Are you sure about this?” the one with the broad-rimmed brown hat asked. He dusted off his boots and readjusted his quilted poncho.

“Yes, let’s begin,” the other replied.

Whatever this was wasn’t serious. The soldiers who should’ve been patrolling this area gathered around to watch as well.

“Who are they?” I asked.

One of the soldiers heard me. “The one with the hat is a well-known adventurer around here. Tony Bennet, but he goes by Bullet-Tooth Tony.”

“Bullet-Tooth Tony?”

“Yeah. He took a job from the Adventurer's Guild and he was shot six times. He survived his wounds, had the bullets embedded in his body removed, and had them made into a tooth. Bullet-Tooth.”

“And the other one?”

“He’s new around here. Boris Slavov. The Bullet-Dodger.”

“The Bullet-Dodger?”

“Story goes that he was ambushed during a job. He survived because the person ambushing him missed all of his shots.”

“What’s happening?” Askeladd questioned. “Why are we gathered around them?”

“They got into an argument about who could draw their gun first. So they’re testing it out right now.”

Askeladd chuckled. “So it’s a duel between someone who can tank bullets and someone who dodges them.”

Boris emptied his pistol by letting the bullets slide to the ground. Tony fired five shots into the ground behind Boris. The audience flinched at the first bang but grew used to the gunfire afterwards.

The gunslingers then handed each other their weapons for inspection before handing them back. They pressed their backs together and took ten paces forward before spinning to face each other.

There was a moment of silence before they simultaneously drew their revolvers and aimed at the other.

“Too bad,” Boris said. “A tie.”

“No,” Tony retorted as he holstered his gun. “I won.”

“That’s ridiculous.”

“If we duelled with bullets, you’d be dead.”

“Fine then.” Boris reloaded his firearm. “We’ll duel with bullets.”

“Don’t throw your life away, Bullet-Dodger. You ain’t dodging mine.”

“Draw.” Boris pointed his gun. “This isn’t a contest of words.”

Tony shook his head and sighed, getting back into position.

“This is preposterous,” Askeladd said. “There’s no contest between the two.”

The two gunslingers stared each other down until a bell tolled, signalling that an hour had passed.

Boris drew his pistol as a gunshot radiated throughout town. The next thing I knew, Boris’ gun had been blasted back about ten feet, leaving him disarmed. Tony hadn’t even moved—not even to reach for his gun.

Yet he won the duel.

Wait, when did he reload? He fired five shots and revolvers carry six, Tony must’ve had one in the chamber.

No, that doesn’t make any sense. They inspected each other’s firearms earlier and Lieutenant Doria told me people usually left an unloaded chamber just so their guns wouldn’t accidentally discharge. That’s why he only fired five.

“You’re only breathing because I aimed for the gun on purpose,” Tony said. “I don’t want to be the reason why your nickname is ironic.”

The gunshots attracted even more people, making the crowd larger. People here were so nosy, but I guess drama like this wasn’t common and everyone needed entertainment now and then.

“Should we ask him to join?” I asked.

“I don’t see why not.”

We approached Tony once the crowd had gone its way and explained the situation about the bandits. He didn’t give a clear answer, so Askeladd told him where we were staying before he and I headed back.

Even if he didn’t want to say it vocally, his demeanor told us his answer. He found our whole campaign nonsensical.

“No luck?” Mondatta asked when we returned. She had been waiting by the door.

“We found a big fish—an excellent gunslinger. But he refused.”

“What a shame. The big fish are the ones that get away the most.”

The room the farmers rented was along the alleyway. The room was bare save for the indent in the middle where one could build a fire. The farmers had surrounded it as they began cooking the meat Askeladd handed them.

He and I joined everyone else gathered around the fire.

“This is a very interesting group,” Roxanne said. “Our skills and personalities are all over the place.”

“That’s good,” Ilias retorted. “It isn’t good to put all of your eggs in the same basket.”

“I wonder who the last one is,” Roxy questioned. “We can spend the entire day tomorrow looking for our seventh sentinel.”

“We leave tomorrow,” Askeladd explained. “We can’t afford to waste one day looking for one person. The six of us will suffice.”

“Are you sure, Ser? You did say seven.”

“This six will do.”

Mondatta summoned her Familiar in the middle of the room, floating it right above the grill. “Zenyatta can be our seventh man.”

Her little joke broke the room into laughter. Hanzo pointed at the door.

Standing there was Tony, who was respectful enough to take off his wide-brimmed hat. It looked like he had been standing there for a while.

Askeladd went to greet him. “Will you be joining us?”

Tony nodded. “I thought about your offer for a bit and thought of how stupid and insane you all are for dedicating your hearts like this. I’m always trying to improve my gunslinging. But then I thought, what’s the point in honing my skills if I can’t even use them to protect those who are weaker? I guess you can call this my change of heart.”

“We’re grateful.”

“When do we leave?”

“Tomorrow.”

Tony joined our table and struck up a conversation with the farmers.

This is it.

Askeladd, Ilias, Jaime, Mondatta, Roxy, Roxanne, and Tony.

A giant grin welled up on my face. “There are seven of us at last.”