Luna Rucervus walked alongside her new companion, grateful for the company after her long journey. Although, she'd prefer to walk free of her own accord. It is truly a shame that I must worry myself with the concerns of these more...reserved cultures, she thought. But it is better to bear a bit of discomfort than delay my mission any further. And this particular ser's company is not without some appeal.
Initially, Luna felt some hostility towards this man. Gazing at her as so many others on her journey had. I felt for sure that he would soon begin regaling me with tall tales of his life and finding any excuse he could to lay his hands on me.
Yet, within moments, it became clear to her that he was not that type of man. In fact, he appeared to be a bit afraid of her. Her adoptive mother's training had kicked in and she'd immediately begun analyzing him. His shrinking stance and quiet voice at the time suggests that, despite his size, he is rather submissive.
To authority or women, I've yet to establish.
And soon enough, she found herself quite amused by him. How easily she was able to humiliate him. How hard he was trying to hide his obvious infatuation with her. As she leaned upon his arm, she thought to herself, I wonder how he would react if I told him I can feel his heart racing right now.
She left that image in her mind, not wanting to disrupt this quiet moment between them. He seemed a simple man who made her laugh. And perhaps it was because she could not remember the last time she'd laughed so often that she felt herself a bit attracted to him as well.
Of course, nothing could come of it, she thought. I have my duty in the Capital and tomorrow, I must return to it. But still, after months of having to uphold it, one day free from the burden of duty to the Empire seems more than reasonable.
Looking upon the ser's face, she saw that act of simply walking alongside her strained him somewhat. Definitely women, she thought. Hoping to relieve him, Luna broke the silence.
----
"So tell me, dear," Luna began. "Why exactly must I meet this adventurer in the town square?"
Graham, his mind still frazzled from the morning's events, took a moment to process her question.
"Oh, well, that's where the town is having the goodbye ceremony," Graham answered.
"Ugh," Luna let out, with a sound of true disgust.
"You don't...like ceremonies much?"
"Oh, I loathe them, ser. Nothing but excess and extravagance to boost the egos of those who are in desperate need of a good kick off of their high horse." As she said this, she mimed a small kick at an imaginary foe.
Graham let out a small laugh. "Well, I see what you mean, miss. But, well, not much happens here in Brightshade. We're mainly an industry town and there's not much in the way of entertainment. So a grand goodbye for us is a good opportunity for a bit of fun and leisure. When one of our own leaves, we like to make sure they know they'll be sorely missed."
"I can understand that, dear. I've simply had my fill of ceremonies for one lifetime. If I had my way, I'd leave tonight as I've business to attend. But, with a mass celebration, I'll be left spending my evening waiting for the proper moment to make a graceful exit."
Graham felt a bit twisted up inside, struggling between his desire to help on her way and his excitement at knowing they might spend a few more hours together.
"Well, like I said, the town hasn't much in the way of entertainment, but possibly, if you'd like, in between, the two of us could do something together."
"Oh, how forward of you. And exactly would you have us do together that would be so entertaining?"
Graham sputtered, "Oh, no, nothing like that, ma'am. I just meant--" His clarification was interrupted by the sound of her small laughter. Graham let out a sigh. "Abbadon's Eye, you sure do enjoy embarrassing me, don't you?"
"Only because you make it so easy, ser," she replied.
"Fair point, but I am serious about sticking around with you. Uh, Only if you'd like, ma'am."
At this, Luna let out a sigh of her own.
"Is there something wrong, ma'am?"
"Yes, there is. You still insist on calling me 'ma'am'. 'Ma'am' is for elderly spinsters with crow's feet and eyes like marbles that spend their days insisting that the morals and values of the world have degraded. And while my hue of my hair may cause some confusion, I am but 23 years of age. I'm hardly a 'ma'am'. I've told you already, call me Luna, dear."
At this, Graham felt a need to gather his thoughts, lest he falter in his explanation.
"I understand, miss. It's just that...well, I know you said it's fine to ignore your status and all. But, I was raised a certain way and part of that is the thinking that...well, a man shouldn't be so casual with a woman like that. Especially if he hardly knows her."
At this, Graham felt Luna's grip on his arm loosen somewhat, stopping dead in her tracks. "And here, I was hoping to escape that type of neanderthal thinking," she muttered, her voice sounding distant and weak.
"BUT!" Graham interjected, his mind racing to catch up with his mouth. "I, um, I suppose that it wouldn't be too inappropriate, seeing as how you did save me and all...L-L-Luna." Graham stuttered out the words, feeling like a grander dunce than he had all morning. Somehow managing to insult the woman and make himself the hypocrite all in just a few moments. He was certain that this would be the last he'd see of her. So lost in thought and regret he was that he almost didn't hear her speak up.
"Say it again, dear. Please."
Still on his arm, Luna looked up at Graham, her crimson eyes shining and piercing. Graham steadied himself, knowing that his delivery must be confident. "Luna," he repeated, now staring back at her.
Her grip on his arm returned, even tighter than before. It was more accurate to say that she had begun to hug his arm towards herself, Graham having to lower himself as she did so. "Oh, sounds that ring so sweet!" She spoke, her voice carrying a musical quality to it. "Thank you, darling! Thank you, thank you, thank you!"
Graham couldn't help but laugh, her joy was so infectious. This woman is unbelievable, he thought. I've barely met her, yet she has such a hold over me. It frightened him. What he found even more frightening was how he was not entirely sure he wanted to break that hold.
"Finally, we have that settled between us," Luna said. "Although, now you've managed to make me feel the fool."
"I have? How?"
"Well, here I am going on and on about you addressing me by name and yet I don't even know yours."
A smattering of voices could be heard slightly in the distance.
"Oh, so you don't."
"Is it perhaps because you're hiding something from me?" she asked with a theatrical finger pressed against her cheek.
The voices, now closer, could be identified as a crowd roaring and cheering.
"No, ma--Luna, not at all."
"Well, then?"
"My name? It's--"
"GET HIM!!!!"
"YOU'VE GOT IT!!"
"WATCH OUT!!!"
The sound of Graham's voice was instantly drowned out by the sound of a crowd, their voices roaring with excitement. It was in hearing them that Graham had realized he and Luna had managed to walk straight into the town square, completely unaware. Gone was the grooved in dirt of the Golden Road, replaced by the cobblestones of the town.
The square itself was surrounded by the various businesses of the town. The butcher shops and bakeries that would normally be preparing their wares for the various homekeepers and business owners of the town. The smithy who, at this point, would be well covered in soot, fulfilling the orders of the local folk. Usually, simple things such as horse shoes or milling tools. Although, rumor had it that, on occasion and for the right price, he could also make someone a truly good weapon. The one inn of the town that would house any wandering strangers or those who've traveled to the town for work. But today, those buildings were closed and the square itself was rather packed.
The crowd surrounded some event Graham and Luna could not see. All around them hung banners and flags, sporting the traditional yellow and black of the town. The crowd, a mix of older citizens, excitable children and a few travelers caught up in the rush of it all, were all screaming into the center of the square.
"SWING HARDER!!"
"YOU'VE GOT 'IM!!!"
"WATCH HIS FEET!!"
"What in Light's name is happening," Luna asked, barely audible over the screaming crowd.
Graham, curious to know what captivated the crowd so, began to lightly push his way through, conscious not to push too hard, lest Luna become lost in the crowd.
*CLANG*
*WHOOSH*
*FWOOM*
Within the center of the town square, two men were swinging their swords at each other, the blades clashing against one another. One of the men Graham recognized as Thomas, the smithy's son and Paul's sparring partner. The other was none other than Paul himself.
Paul Blackwell resembled his older brother in a few ways. The two shared black hair color and a dark shade, although Paul was quite a few shades darker than Graham. His hair, normally shoulder length was tied back into a loose bun, save for a strand or two as it normally was when he was expecting a fight. His face was more sharp and angular, resembling their father more than their mother. He wore a full suit of armor, shaded a metallic blue that was jagged and almost appeared to resemble reptilian scales.
On his left side, he wore a capelet, normally hanging just above his knee, colored the same shade of yellow as the town banners. Paul once told Graham that he chose the color "so that everyone will know that even a small village like Brightshade can produce heroes." It also helped to obscure the throwing knives Paul had strapped to his left side, should he ever be caught without a weapon in his hand.
He was a fair few heads shorter than Graham, only about 5'9 or so and was fairly slimmer than him or most adventurers, who tended to carry quite a bit of muscle. Yet, despite all that, he was quite powerful and Graham had seen him take down men twice his size with ease.
The other fighter, Thomas, wore considerably less armor than Paul, settling for a simple shoulder guard and flat chestplate. Think Paul said it's so he can move faster, Graham thought. Sharing his father's ginger red hair cut short along the sides and barely brow length on the top, he was more stout than Paul and packed quite a bit of muscle.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
Thomas swung his blade at Paul in a massive downward swipe, Paul barely dodging it in time. The blade scratched along the cobblestone road as Thomas swung it back towards himself, creating a few sparks along the way. Paul pressed forward, blade swinging overhead as Thomas narrowly brought his sword up to block the attack, his legs buckling from the force. The crowd began to loudly cheer for the fighter they hoped would win. Some who seemed to suggest that they may have bet money on the outcome.
"Old Thom's still going for it, eh" Graham asked Evey, the local baker who stood next to him.
"May as well," she replied. "Abbadon's Skull, it might be his last chance."
Graham suddenly felt a hand at his ear and looked over to Luna leaning in to speak.
"That phrase, Abbadon's Skull. You used something similar when we spoke earlier?"
Graham, thinking back to their conversation, answered with a slight tone of remorse. "Oh, I suppose I did. Sorry for that, Luna. Doesn't seem proper looking back."
"Proper?" she replied, an almost offended look upon her face. "Abbadon was a tyrant. A monster that would have destroyed the Empire and enslaved everyone within. Do you understand that?"
Graham squirmed a bit in shame and tried his best to respond appropriately. "Well...yes, I know that. But it was all so long ago. He certainly can't harm us now. And we all here tend to use it."
In fact, it was hard to spend a single day within the village of Brightshade without encountering someone calling upon Abbadon's Eye or Skull or even simply his Wrath. No one there could remember how it became common among the villagers to evoke the name of the man who began the Chiliad Wars all those centuries ago. At some point, they simply found themselves speaking his name when they wished to express an extreme sense of anger or displeasure. Even some of the children knew of the phrases and would whisper it amongst themselves in an attempt to impress one another, although never with adults around.
"Most of us don't even remember what happened aside from what the schoolteachers told us. Do they not say those sorts of things in the Capital?" Graham asked.
"No. They don't." Luna replied, her voice showing some concern before turning her attention to the fight.
"That boy in the armor, he's the adventurer, correct? The one I'm meant to escort? The Blackwell boy?"
Graham soon remembered why Luna had come to the village in the first place. "Oh, that's right. That's him, my brother."
"Brother?" Luna seemed to be stunned upon hearing this. Graham felt her grip on him loosen somewhat, then tighten again after a moment.
"Something wrong?" he asked, him now leaning closer so as not to shout at her.
"No, nothing," she replied. "Just...a bit odd to think a man like you could be his brother."
Graham was somewhat confused by the sentence. Has she met Paul before? As he thought over her words, Paul and Thomas continued their fight.
Thomas swung his sword again, now aiming the blade in an upward arc, hoping to disarm Paul. Paul countered by bringing his own sword down to meet Thomas'. The clang of the two swords rang particularly loud across the square and was echoed when Thomas' sword bounced off of the cobblestone. The vibrations of the sword quaked within Thomas' arms and it took all of his strength to hold his blade.
Paul moved forward, blade held high toward Thomas, who, still aching from the vibrations of his sword, thrust the tip of his weapon forward at Paul, forcing him to turn and step behind Thomas. He planned for that, thought Graham. Paul continued his turning motion and swung his blade to Thomas' back, now left open. Yet, somehow, without turning, Thomas quickly moved his blade behind him, the sword parallel to his back, blocking the attack. "Hah," Thomas yelled. "That trick won't fell me twice, Blackwell!" The crowd came alive, having been certain that Paul's attack would land.
"Your brother is wasting time," spoke Luna, a hint of resentment in her voice.
"How do you mean?" asked Graham.
"He could've ended this fight already and yet he insists on showing off."
Graham had seen enough of Paul's practice battles to know that she was right. Even without much battle experience, Graham had seen at least three opportunities for Paul to end the fight.
"It's as I told you, dear," said Luna. "All of this is nothing more than a showcase for his vanity." She said the word as if it were poisonous.
Paul and Thomas now stood opposite one another, Paul shifting his stance slightly. I've seen that before, thought Graham. He's getting ready to finish the fight.
Paul dove forward, sword high above him. Thomas raised his own, ready to block a swing from any direction. Paul held his sword back, ready to swing. A feint, thought Graham. Sure enough, as Thomas prepared to block high, Paul quickly slid across the cobblestone, one leg extended, aiming for Thomas' unsteady feet. Only, they were nowhere to be found as Thomas had leapt into the air, no doubt familiar with this tactic as well. Big mistake.
As Thomas leapt, Paul kicked the floor beneath him, using his sword to propel himself upright. In a flash, he grabbed at Thomas' chestplate and using the momentum from the leap, swung Thomas overhead and SLAMMED him down to the floor. Before Thomas even had a chance to catch his breathe, Paul brought his sword down and laid the edge along Thomas' throat.
"Do you yield?!" Paul bellowed, his voice strong and confident.
Thomas, after a brief struggle, threw his sword aside. "Aye, I yield."
A smile spread across Paul's face as he removed the blade from the beaten man's throat and offered his free hand. "Then stand up, old friend and take a bow."
The crowd exploded, their cheers sure to be heard across the whole of the kingdom. The villagers began rushing in to the center of the square to congratulate the two warriors, although a few walked away rather angry, having apparently lost a bit of gold on the battle. Mutterings of "cost me 50 gold, he did" could be heard as they walked past. The whole of the town stood with the two fighters, eagerly awaiting to express their gratitude for the excitement the two men provided. All, of course, except for Graham and Luna, who stayed where they stood.
"Come on, now," Graham offered. "You can't say you didn't have a bit of fun just now."
"I'm sorry, dear, but I just don't find this sort of mindless distraction particularly entertaining." At that, she began to remove herself from Graham's side and stepped forward.
"I'm afraid you'll have to keep yourself company for now, dear," said Luna. "Perhaps the sooner I conduct the actual rite of transfer, the sooner I may leave for home."
"Oh. Right," softly replied Graham, now feeling a bit bare without her at his side.
"No need to pout, darling. We'll still have a few hours before then. And who knows? Perhaps you may think of something that may entertain the two of us," she said with a sly wink.
"Oh, come off it, now," Graham replied with a wave, having become familiar with her little game.
Luna stepped to the crowd, gesturing for them to kindly move aside and trying to ignore some of the stares that came her way. As she stepped closer, she could hear the two fighters speaking.
"--feat you one a' these days."
"That you may," replied Paul. "And when that day comes, I hope you treat me with the proper respect."
"If you ever showed ME any, I might," Thomas replied, jokingly.
The crowd burst into laughter, while Luna remained stone-faced.
"Aye, but I'll miss ya, kid," Thomas continued. "Good luck to ya."
"And to you, old friend," said Paul. "Keep this town safe."
"Excuse me," Luna interjected. "Mr. Blackwell, I am Luna Rucervus, Herald of the Emperor." Her voice lacking any of the warmth Graham had heard from her before, now sounding cold and droning. Something seems off with her, Graham thought.
"I've come to collect you in the name of the Empe--"
"Oh, there you are!" Paul interrupted. "We've been waiting all morning for you. What kept ya? We had to put on this little fight just to keep the crowd from tearing the place apart." The crowd came alive at the mention of the fight, still buzzing from the excitement.
Luna continued on, as if she'd heard none of Paul's interruption. "I believe it is in the best interests of all parties involved if we quickly conduct the declaration and then begin our journey to--"
"Now, hold on there, little miss," Paul interrupted once again. "We can do the declaration now, but we can't just leave without celebrating."
"Aye, we've been waiting all week for tonight," cried a voice from the crowd. The fight now over, the square began to fill with the sound of tables and benches being arranged around the space where they stood. The air carried the scent of freshly baked bread being brought out and the sizzling of meat cooking upon a flame could be heard even over the raucous crowd. The sounds of cooking meats were mixed with the grunts of men straining to push unopened barrels of drink towards the square. Indeed, it seemed the whole town had prepared for this day, the celebration seeming as much for them as it was to be for Paul.
Luna, now appearing somewhat frustrated, tried once more to take control of the conversation. "As I've explained to your brother, this is a rather urgent matter and the Emperor will not tolerate--"
"My brother?" Paul began, speaking over Luna completely. He looked over her to see Graham standing alone to the side. "Eh, Graham! There you are! Abbadon's Eye, I've been looking for ya all morning! Come over here!" Paul waved Graham over, who sheepishly stepped forward.
"So you're what's been keeping the Herald from us. Afraid to share her with the rest of us, are you?" Paul said with a suggestive tone and a small nudge at Graham's round belly. Graham, feeling rather awkward at the implication of his brother's question, offered a polite laugh lost in the sea of guffaws from the crowd.
As the villagers laughed, Graham looked to Luna, seeing that something had begun to trouble her. Her eyes seemed strained and she bit her lip in appeared confusion. "Are you alright, Luna?"
He reached an arm out to her, but she appeared to step back from it. "I'm just--I'm sorry, did he say that YOU are Graham Blackwell?"
Graham, confused by her upset tone, wasn't sure how to answer. Once again, Paul filled the silence. "Look at that! The empire even knows of my older brother Graham. A woodcutter must seem an oddity to those who spend their days deciding how to spend our gold!" Once more, the crowd erupted in laughter.
Luna began to look quite distressed, a hand holding onto her head as she tried to process what she just learned. "But then--so you--I almost--Oh, I've made a horrible mistake."
Paul turned to Luna. "Alright then, miss. Let's go ahead and get this over with. We wait any longer, this crowd may start a fight of their own." With the final word, he turned to the crowd, who roared in agreement.
Luna addressed Paul in a completely new tone, now sounding a bit remorseful. "Mr. Blackwell, I'm afraid I've made a mistake and I don't think it would be wise to--"
"Come on now," Paul began, "YOU'RE the one who wanted the ceremony out of the way, didn't you?"
"'Sides, sooner you's ceremony," offered a voice from the crowd, "sooner we's start celebretatin'!!" The rest of the crowd agreeing. A lone voice within cried out "READ IT!!" echoed by another voice and another until the whole of the square was chanting at the Herald. They began to throw their balled up fists high above their heads, surrounding Luna. Even the local children encircled her, not fully understanding but having been caught in the excitement of the crowd.
Graham felt the pressure of the crowd around him pushing him back until he found himself in the center of the crowd next to Luna. The barks and roars of the crowd were almost deafening, yet somehow, Graham could make out Luna's soft voice perfectly.
"Graham, tell me something," she began. "And be honest with me." Her tone lacked any of the confidence she'd displayed that morning. She sounded almost frightened to continue. "Was this all a joke to you? Your oafish demeanor, your attentiveness towards me. Was it all a facade? Is this another of your grand plans I've 'yet to understand'?"
Graham felt himself swallow down a lump he'd not realized he'd formed. "Luna, I don't understand what you mean," he replied. "I've...just been me."
She raised her head with a steely-eyed stare. "That's a shame, then. Because this is where I must leave you." She then reached into her robe and pulled out an odd golden canister. On its ends were a pair of odd, conic domes inscribed with odd words and phrases Graham recognized as the language of the Capital. In the center of the canister was the symbol of the Capital, a round sun with 9 stems of light, representing the 9 First Families of the Capital. Luna pressed the tip of her thumb on the bottom of the symbol, the symbol falling forward with a klik sound. Along the canister, golden light began to run across it, filling the inscriptions on the ends. The golden light of the canister seemed to hypnotize the crowd, as they all fell silent. Luna held the top end of the canister and, with a flick of her hand, expanded it to reveal a scroll within.
"Not even one day, then?" she muttered, then began to read:
1 Marte, Month 3 of 12, Year of the Crescent Sun, 191
This letter is written and approved by the great Emperor Novus Solis VII, long may he reign and is to be treated as sacred as a declaration given by the Emperor himself. The letter is to be read by no one but the Herald of the Emperor assigned to the delivery and declaration of the letter. Any such persons who attempt to interfere with either of these events shall be treated as an enemy of the Emperor and sentenced for the crime of treason.
For the past nine centuries, Our glorious Empire has maintained peace and stability across this nation since the end of the Chiliad Wars, which saw a fall to the tyrannical kingdom of Abbadon, the Angel of Destruction. As some of you may know, part of this peace has been maintained by a network of information gathering agents working to ensure those who would threaten this peace are discovered and swiftly vanquished.
At this moment, a voice in the crowd blared out, "Damn the Umbral Hand!"
Luna, her lips pursed slightly, allowed a beat to pass, then continued.
In recent times, these agents have discover that enemies to the Empire are seeking a citizen residing within your village. For what purpose, we cannot say, but we believe that they may make their way to your town in search of them. As yours is an industrial town, crucial to the industries of the Empire, we do not wish to endanger you by housing them.
Therefore, by decree of the Emperor, the Great capital city of Lux Sancta, shining light of the Solis Empire, formally requests that the town of BRIGHTSHADE surrender the citizenship of GRAHAM BLACKWELL, son of ABIGAIL BLACKWELL and ETHAN MORNINGSTAR, to the capital posthaste for a matter of grave importance. We thank you for your cooperation in this grand matter and request that you aid the Herald and our new citizen in their journey to our great city.
May the Light Guide us Home.
Luna quickly rolled the scroll back up and placed it back into the canister from whence it came. As she put the golden tube away, she began to look out at the now frozen crowd, a dour look on her face.
Silence. No one spoke a word. The wind itself seemed to disappear, not daring to break the silence that hung over the square. The stink of burning meant filled the air, not a soul bothering to attend to it. All eyes simply turned to Graham, who wanted nothing more than to disappear, almost wishing he had been taken by the daemon this morning.
The weight of the silent crowd's stares pressed down upon Graham, feeling himself on the edge of tears, until he could take it no longer. Please, he thought. Someone say something, anything, please.
Finally, as if they could hear his thoughts, a lone voice rang out across the square.
"Aw, fuckin' 'ell!"