Borghulda - Afternoon - Alexander

My knuckles lightly tap at the door of a Borghulda resident. Anticipation and anxiety stir inside my stomach, awaiting for someone to answer my call. The door creaks from its hinges as it swings open. An elderly fellow in his twilight years, his eyelids shut, or seem to be. Wrinkles and scars spread across his face with an abundance of white hair covering parts of it.

I take a deep breath to settle into the right mindset. “Hello, good sir. My name is Alexander.”

“Yeh, wha, ouv it?”

Was that…did he speak with words?

“Ah, forgive me, but the village chief and I have come to fulfill his chiefly duties to the people. Please, speak onto us of your ales.”

“Oh, ‘ho, dis kid ‘ere, ya ‘ol bagger.”

“Dis kid is my lil’ worker for today.”

He understood that!?

“Ah, ‘at ‘ight…”

“Pretty much, but forget dat. Ya got anythin’ dat need bein’ done?”

“‘Ah, ‘ot some crap at eed dune. Dem lil shits eep’ comin’ to ma damn hom to 'hunk eggs and…”

Standing here, listening to words I am unable to fully grasp is slowly but surely deflating whatever confidence I have in helping this man. And how could I when I am incapable of comprehending his manner of speech?

“Alright, I get ya. We’ll talk to their parents later.”

“Ya better. Go aw' now!”

He slams the door with greater force than a man of his age should possess. All the thought I can muster at this moment is the sheer bafflement of that man's tongue.

Horgmon slaps me on the back. “Ya get all dat?”

“...Nay.”

The chief slaps me on the back again, roaring with laughter. Each slap grows stronger alongside his laughter. “Me neither! Ya just gotta guess at what he’s babblin’ on ‘bout.”

“But you appeared familiar with his manner of speech.”

“Better look like I do. Been hearin’ dat old coot ramble on for years now.”

“I see…" It puts me at ease to know I am not the only one to be confounded by his unique way of speech. "However, what are we to do about the children?”

Chief Horgmon digs his pinky finger into his ear, groaning at the question. “Eh…sounds like a pain in da arse. Let’s forget it.”

“But is it not the responsibility of a chief to tend to all his people?”

“It is, yet, them kids are just gonna do it again…unless ya wanna deal with it?”

If the chief wishes not to settle this issue, I would not need to. However, it would be terrible of me to leave the elderly with an issue they need assistance with. All the more reason to get involved in the matter!

“Allow me to settle the issue.”

“Ya don’t have to. Like I said, it’s a pain in da arse. Besides, it ain't like it's a big deal.”

“Even so, I wish to help, despite how insignificant it may be. I must!”

Horgmon strokes his stubble, raising a curious brow at me. “Why? For my trust.”

“...I would be mendacious of me to say no. But if one is in need of help, no matter how small or grand it may be, I want to help.”

I cannot turn my back on anyone, even if it may not benefit me or come to mean anything beyond the moment. To turn my back on them would betray my values. Yet, those same values came from a man who may not have held them in the same regard as I.

“Dat right? Ya fancy ya self some kinda knight?” he half-heartedly asks, emphasizing the word "knight."

“...I do not, but I live by the ideals of what makes a true knight in my eyes.”

I can only assume he means a "kingdom knight." The one I aspire to be does what they believe is correct, regardless of home or obligations.

“Oh yeah…? Well, who cares? Let’s go!”

He treks ahead of me, whistling a fine tune. Although it may be of no consequence, there was a lingering sense of unease from his interest in the word “knight”. That cannot be left to speculation, knowing the history of Borghulda and the knights of the kingdom. I did not mean to draw ill memories associated with the word. However, if it were animosity, a man such as Chief Horgmon would not leave it to be so ambiguous. However, I've come to realize a man's outward appearance is not what it always is; Sir Garrick taught me this…

“Excuse me, chief Horgmon… I have been withholding a question from you.”

“What?”

I clench my fist, hardening my resolve to this through. “It pertains to the war, your fight with the knights, and Sigurd.”

I expect him to implode with indignation, bearing open hostility towards me for mentioning such a subject. However, his temperament does not change, gazing at me with a neutral expression.

“Dat it?” He sighs, irritated and disappointed by the question. “We waged war on dem bastards from the Kingdom, and we lost, simple as dat.”

“Simple? What about the allies you lost, or–”

“What’s da use of belly achin’ ‘bout it now 7 years later? Nothin’, that’s what. We’re warriors, when we win, we celebrate, and we lose, we take it on the chin and try to move with it. All we can do nowadays is take it on the chin…"

It would appear cold-hearted if not for the pained air about him. His sullen voice betrays the thick-skinned response he posed onto me. To say such things with that sorrow takes a considerable amount of determination in one's beliefs and strength of heart to keep those feelings at bay…

“I…apologize for being presumptuous of your feelings, sir. And of raising this topic.”

“Ah…just as long as ya don't do it again, we’re good… Now, let’s get with it. Got some kids to punish!”

“Yes, sir!”

The chief moves with a renewed vigor, befitting the chief of a large village. His flippant nature disguises his feelings about his obligations, but there may be more to it than what I can grasp from the surface. For now, I shall do what I can to gain his respect. I doubt I shall keep it when he learns of my heritage, and I do not intend on keeping it a secret for long.

Borghulda - dining hall - evening - Proxy

Richard, Chip, Zeal, and I followed some of the guys we were working with to this big, open dining hall. Well lit by torches carefully placed away from anything flammable. A pair of long tables, set low on the ground, are paired near the other. Villagers and people from our army are sitting around, eagerly waiting for a meal. Nunnalé and Marie are sitting together, talking about whatever girls talk about. I mean, whatever you can talk about with Nunnalé that doesn't involve Richard or candy. Marie notices us approaching.

“How was work,” I ask her, laying my elbow on the table.

She leans back, putting her hands on the ground behind her. “A pain in the ass, and it would've been worse without Nunnalé.”

“I only did what I was ordered. But I was…helpful, yes?” she asks with a bit of hesitation, which is a first.

“Without you, I'd broken my back doing all that lumber-hauling crap.”

She nods her head, clearly proud of herself. “Then I am satisfied by the result.”

The two of them have gotten closer recently. Nunnalé is more comfortable around Marie, willing to actually stick around and speak to her instead of following Richard all day – which she still does. Marie is acting more like an older sister around Nunnalé, who’s the cute, dotted-on younger sister. After everything that happened, I’m glad she's feeling better. Although, what happened with Garrick is still lingering among us. God knows how it affected Marie…

Nunnalé begins checking out Richard's body, lifting his shirt, too. “Master Richard, are you well? Did you need my assistance? Is your body aching?”

Richard rounds up her hands, pulling down his shirt lighting-fast. “Yeah, yes! I’m fine, Nunnalé.”

“I only ask since today's tasks were physically demanding. Your physique is not up to par with the work.”

Hol– No, no, gotta keep it in. I almost laughed, gotta keep it in…can’t…laugh. Zeal doesn’t bother and just starts busting a gut, rolling all over the ground, slapping his stomach. I’m fighting to not laugh and this idiot is making it even harder.

“So–s- I’m so…sorry…buddy!”

“Oh, shut up! Remember who pushed the cart with only one hand?" He ends, firing back with that edge he used to have back in freshman year. Damn, why don't you just hit me in the throat while you're at it, buddy? It's not my fault Nunnalé said what she said. "...And Nunnalé, next time, please ask me these things in private.”

“Understood, sorry for the inconvenience, Master Richard.”

"It's fine, don't worry about it… Moreover, the atmosphere in this room isn't right. Between us and the villagers, I mean."

Now that I get a good look around here, our groups are separated from one another: the villagers keeping to themselves, whispering, gossiping, you name it. Some of them are watching us with keen eyes, waiting for one of us to start acting up.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

“Notice them too, right?” Chip says, subtly returning eye contact with them. “After all the sweat and tears, they don’t trust us yet. Not surprising though.”

“They’re just being careful,” Marie chimes in, hushing her voice. “If we don’t give them a reason they’ll let us be. So everyone: keep calm and don’t alarm them.” Not like we’re here to start anything, anyway. “...Also, it'll be dark soon. We should get recon done tonight.”

“Seriously?” Chip laments, setting his head on the table. “I’m dead tired…”

“Quit whining! We need to get this done before we fight them, and nighttime is the best time to do this.”

Chip grumbles aloud, “Fine, but I don’t want to be over there by myself.”

“Of course. I’ll have Zell, Proxy, Richard, and Nunnalé go with you.”

“Four people? Not like I'm complaining, but that's a lot of people.”

“Wait a minute!” Zeal shoots up from his seat, pointing his finger at me. “Why does that brat get to go!? I wanna go along with my brother!”

I was so close to shit-talking him, but I bit my tongue and kept quiet.

“Five people is already pushing it. Also, I don’t want you and him getting into a pissing match during recon, and don't say you won't; I know you two sure as shit can’t help it.”

“But–”

“Zeal, she’s right,” Zell interrupts him. “...Richard and Nunnalé will provide protection, and Proxy has good senses. Don’t worry, I’ll be fine; I can also take care of myself, you know.”

Zeal slumps his shoulders, sinking back with resignation, staring down at his feet. He curses under his breath. Maybe I should just stick back; I don’t wanna get any more on his shit list than I already have. Though, if it were me, I’d hate someone to do something for me out of pity.

…/Proxy

All of these forests are the same, messy, terrible for a nice evening stroll, and you just never know when you'll make the wrong step and mess up your ankle. Luckily, exploring this type of terrain is a synch for me nowadays, yet I rather not Would rather be on Road Burner, see what’s what, and just get back, but seeing how we don’t know shit about our enemies, Chip said it’s better this way.

“Zell, how far are we from the bandits?”

“Hmm…at this point, I am not too sure. All these trees are beginning to dull my sense of direction.”

“Oh, come on! This is bullshit! Couldn’t they have put it closer?”

“Yeah, and maybe they could let us come over. Heck, maybe they should just let us win this one since we've been on a hot streak. Then after that, we can throw back some drinks… Man, if life was that easy, I wouldn't have wound up in prison.”

“...I doubt they would,” Richard speaks up. “Especially if they have a Source-user who can burn down a forest with them.”

“I concur," Nunnalé predictably agrees. "...combat is unavoidable with such an adversary. I recommend having me fight such an opponent."

“Nunnalé, you won't be fighting him alone. I'll help you.”

“Unacceptable! You would be placed in too much danger, Master Richard, and that would inhibit me from fighting properly.”

“I thought we already got over this. We’re partners.”

“And I have acknowledged you fighting by my side. However, a fight with an Elemental Prime user who is experienced will be a difficult battle for us both.”

“She’s right,” Zell says. “Scar isn’t to be trifled with. His swordplay is peerless, and coupled with the use of his flames, a fight with him would prove challenging.”

"God, you guys are so annoying sometimes. Sitting around and saying who fights who isn’t gonna do squat. When we have to fight him, we’ll win, no matter who's fighting.” I close my eyes and raise my arms. “Besides, by the time I’m through with the guy he–”

My sense just went off! Something’s flying right for my forehead. I duck right as it stabs into the tree behind me, alerting the others.

“Take cover!” Zell sharply orders, diving behind cover.

“Nunnalé, can you pinpoint them!?” Richard shouts, trying to peep past his tree but quickly pulling back.

“Negative! They are too far to detect! But I can attempt to get closer!”

This guy can't be that far from us. An arrow loses its speed and altitude, and the trajectory leans after a few seconds in the air. That shot was quick as hell and flew straight to be a far shot.

"You guys are cursed," Chip nervously mutters. "Next time, I want none of you coming with me, ya hear?"

"Cursed my ass!"

“...Can you deflect the arrows, Nunnalé?” Zell demands, keeping close to the ground.

“I can.”

“Then try to close in on the enemy!”

She pops right out of cover, bringing out her sword to block an incoming arrow. I’ll follow behind her and flank them. Even if they're fast, the second I sense the attack coming I'll dodge out of the way. Nunnalé bats the next arrow that comes at her, but this one has more oomph to it because it forces her back.

“What the hell!?”

Several trees, down in rows, explode outward from where the archer is shooting. Something is coming for me! I jumped out of the way. The trees it tore through have sizable holes in them, bigger than a freaking cannonball. You gotta be joking me…

“It’s a Source-user,” Nunnalé exclaims, protecting Richard under the hail of deadly arrows.

“For God's sake, man!”

They’re using the darkness to keep themselves covered, but we should have that advantage too. Nunnalé won't get in close without getting hit by an arrow, and I sure don't want to fight a Source-user in the dead of night; not when they can shoot a nice hole in their forehead. Hate to say it, but fighting isn't going to work out now.

“Retreat,” Zell orders as he helps Chip up.

We hurry back, ducking and weaving trees and armor-piercing arrows, sending wood shrapnel all over the place. Each shot is almost on the mark even as the terrain changes in slight altitude, matching our pace despite the growing distance. They have to be following behind us while keeping a certain distance. The base of two large trees ahead of us gets ripped apart, causing them to come tumbling down ahead of us. We’re forced to go in a different direction, but another volley of arrows cut us off. He’s trapping us like rats!? If they can use multiple at once, then–

“Get ready for multiple arrows!”

This isn’t good! Nunnalé can’t block them all, and even if she could, that isn't going to last long enough. Damnit, I’m starting to get a nauseous sense of deja vu.

“Smoke cloud!” A metal ball thumps against the soil, quietly hissing with a steam of smoke rising from it. A dense cloud of smoke quickly wraps around us from the metal container. “Everyone, get down,” someone whispers from inside the cloud. “Follow the sound of my voice out of the cloud. Quick now!”

Not like we’re gonna argue against it. Following behind our mystery hero gets out of the cloud. We’re in the archer’s field of vision, but with that cloud, he isn’t going to be seeing us booking it. My sense again! An arrow almost nicks me on the shoulder. Shit, this guy doesn’t quit!

“Over here!” The guy chucks another smoke bomb, covering up the forest with more smoke. Hope that guy has more smoke bombs because I doubt we’re losing this asshole behind us any time soon. “We’re almost out of range, just keep going!”

Out of range? Arrows continue flying overhead, but their volume is lessening the further we get… Now, there isn’t anymore, just nothing.

The mystery person stops dead in their tracks, kneeling over to take in some air. “I…I think…we’re out of range…”

“Wasn’t he following us? How are we out of range?”

“No, he doesn’t follow…he sits in the same spot.”

The same goddamn spot!? No way, even if he were a Source-user, shooting from so far away, in a damn forest– well, that last part isn't so impressive when those arrows blew apart anything in their way.

“That’s crazy,” Chip yells, his voice rising into the sky. “I never heard of someone making shots like that from so far away!”

“It’s true. They sit there, shooting people that get in their danger zone.”

“Then why did they wait to shoot if we were far into their field of vision?” Zell asks, seemingly calm about the whole thing.

“They let people close in before shooting. Can’t tell you why though; guess they want to make sure they hit their target, or maybe they treat intruders like prey.”

Of course. Can’t these shitheads be normal for a change?

Chip strokes his chin. “Zell, you didn’t know about this guy, did you?”

“No, I didn’t. I would have remembered someone that impressive.”

Now that we aren’t almost getting killed, the new guy’s face is becoming clear…

“You’re Finn, right?”

He brightens up, stepping forward with a smile, chuckling. “Yeah. Surprised you remembered me.”

“Can’t forget a guy who carries bugs in a bag.”

He sinks his body lower to the ground, lowering his head. “Oh, that makes sense. Without that, I am a pretty forgettable person to outsiders, huh?”

Man, talk about self-confidence issues, I would've remembered regardless…probably.

“What are you doing out here, though? Pretty late to go for a sudden hike, don't you think?”

“Oh, me? I, ah…nothing, just nothing! Really, nothing! Don't ask me any more questions!”

“...Uh, we didn’t press the question,” Richard reassures Finn, nervously laughing it off.

“Oh…alright. So, um, do you need help to get back to the village?”

“If it isn’t a bother.”

“‘Course not. You're our guests, and we help our guests. That’s what grandpa taught me. Just stay close and watch your feet.”

Borghulda - evening - Proxy

Finally, out of that death trap and into a somewhat civilized society. The town is quiet, meaning everyone is heading off to sleep. I can use the rest, too, after today.

“We should report back to Marie and tell her the trouble we had,” Zell suggests, yawning at the end. “But I’d also like to say sorry.”

“What for?”

“I lacked the foresight to see them placing a sentry at such a point. They wouldn’t be so lax with security, and it almost cost us.”

“Nah, don't sweat it.”

“I wouldn’t say it;s ‘fine’, but it ain’t your fault.”

“Nonetheless, I should have known better.”

“Okay, let’s not play the blame game. Now we know about the sniper in the forest, and that he’s a Source-user.”

That Finn guy is sneaking off while we’re distracted, or while he thinks we’re all distracted. Honestly, I shouldn’t be prying into other people’s business and all, but between him saving us right when we needed it and the bugs, I’m too curious about him.

“Alrighty, I’ll be seeing you guys later...”

“Proxy, where are you going?”

And Richard's the one to catch onto me first. Ah, who cares, I might as well bring him along too. I know he’s wondering what that guy’s up to.

“I’m going to follow that Finn kid. See what he’s getting up to.”

“I don’t think what he’s doing is any of our business.”

“Yeah, but aren’t you wondering what his deal is?”

“Well…no, I can’t. It would be rude to put my nose in his affairs.”

“Hmm…”

He squints his eyes, somewhat annoyed by my prodding. “What? What’s with that smug face?”

“Buddy, you wanna know, too, don’t ya? Don’t ya?”

“No, I don’t.”

“Fine then, but if you start asking me whether or not he ate bugs for dinner, I ain’t saying a word.”

I slowly walk on, expecting the heel turn in 3…2…1…and…

“F-fine, but not to see him eat a bug or anything, just to stop you from doing anything insensitive.”

Too easy, just too damn easy.

“Master Richard, may I come… I wish to know if a human can eat a bug,” Nunnalé requests, her eyes slightly gleaming with curiosity that I can't help but respect.

“Um, yeah, if you want to...”

Well, now that makes three of us excited to see some eat some bugs, let’s go see it through!

…/Proxy

He hasn’t gone far from the town, and thanks to Nunnalé’s sensory abilities, keeping up with him is a breeze. There’s a bit of an incline, nothing we can’t climb with proper footing, but weirdly enough, there’s a contraction that looks like a pulley, wrapped around a tree branch from here to another at the top. The rope is fraying from overuse with a small wooden box hooked on.

“Why would this be here?” Richard speaks aloud a question no one can answer.

“Perhaps it is a means of travel?"

"I doubt it. Someone doesn't make this just to shave a few seconds of climbing down. Typically, it's for transporting items that can’t be moved via hands.."

"I see… But what would he be transporting?"

"That I don't know."

"The mystery thickens..."

"Mystery has density?"

Ya know, I keep forgetting she's not the brightest bulb on stage. Whatever, if he's using this thing for something fishy, we'll be seeing very shortly.

Getting up the incline and pressing onward, Nunnalé stops us. "He is here."

A small, rickety wooden hut is all that greets us up here. Our investigation leads us to an end here, huh? Not exactly what I expected, but I get a feeling this went beyond eating bugs the moment we found that pulley.

"Um, so now what?" I more or less ask myself, trying to get over this nagging voice in my head.

"What do you mean, now what!? We came here 'cause you wanted to see him eat bugs!"

"No, you did."

"Wha– you did too."

"I never said that."

"Seriously, don't give me the runaround!"

"I can't if I ain't, buddy."

"You are such a gaslight–"

A loud footstep catches Richard's tongue, instantly freezing over the mood. Their deep inhales and chilling exhales get a knee-jerk reaction out of us. We got distance from the person behind us. Did I just say person; I meant the goddamn giant of a man that was looming over us! Standing tall at 6 '6, this giant of a man is wearing a coat patchwork with different cloths, his gloves and pants share this design. All of that pales to that crude white mask obscuring everything but his beady eyes.

"Leave…" His voice has the power of a lion. "Leave…"

"This guy a villager?"

"I wouldn't know, and I don't think he's willing to answer."

"Leave…now!"

The big guy cracks his knuckles just from moving them. Villager or not, he's ready to throw down!

"Guys, get ready!"

This overbearing presence is…familiar. His breathing doesn't come off right, and that hulking body of his is freaky, too. Between the three of us, he shouldn't have a chance, but that might be bad thinking there. Wouldn't surprise me if he can use Source since we've been running into people who can. If he's like Cade or that body-snatching shithead, then this gonna get rough.

"HUH!?" We turn to the hut. Finn, freaking out at the sight of us and the giant, drops a crate to the ground. "Wha–"

Great, he is here, and now we gotta make sure he doesn't get killed during the fight.

"Run away, now! You might get killed if you stay here!"

"Huh? Wait, what's happening?"

"Dude, are you blind!? Do you not see this guy!?"

"Yeah, but that's my friend."

Stupefied by what I just heard, I look back and forth between the monster-man and Finn, processing what I just heard. My limbs go slack, hanging at my side. This guy, built like a shit-brick house, coming straight out of a slasher film, is a friend…? You know what, weirder shit has happened.