Sleep so sound,

Dreams so pleasant,

Nightmares so rare,

Memories one makes.

“Hello,” I said with my voice echoing out. “Julius, sir Methodius, answer me!” Still, no one answered, all but be a void in my wake. I walked around in the darkness for some time trying to feel around, I could feel a wall with a bumpy and jagged surface. I thought this must be of the cavern, and we must hide very deep within its darkness. Perhaps Julius and Methodius stand further near the cavern’s entrance. As I pushed forward with darkness still around my body, I heard some cheers coming forth. I saw light and the cheers grew louder, so I went closer till I was behind a gateway. “What is this?” I spoke aloud.

“Huh, you signed up for a combat game,” said a voice. As I turned a large, grizzled man stood before me. With scars across his right eye and a metal patch welded to his left. He made an imposing figure, especially with his claymore he leaned against. “Listen I don’t know about you pissant, but your opponent is waiting.”

“Who,” I said absolutely confused.

The man became angry, “I have told you twice now. If you can’t remember who your fightin, you might throw a towel in. No point in saving your arse the trouble of going through the rules of the fight. Now get your arms on and together,” the man said pointing to the armor stand. “And wait till the gate lifts open.”

I slowly backed up and nodded at him. As I examined the armor, this looks strangely familiar. The breastplate had my family’s crest, a black unicorn resting on the moon. The gauntlets were staggered in a reverse diamond pattern, stretched all the way to the shoulder. The legs had bright steel exteriors, with copper buckles and lined with double tanned ox leather. The helm was in the style of a great helm, though it was of a more rounded shape than its contemporaries. On the back of the breastplate was a special style of chain mail, weaved like hexagons with blue leather pads underneath. One large patch wrapped around the waist, sides, and along the spine. It is then split at the shoulders, allowing one more movement.

The arms I chose were also odd, not to say that they were unusable, but as if I used them before. A crescent shield, that adorned my house’s colours. Black, silver, and blue in a two arrow design, one going up and the other going down. Riveted together by brass plates in an ‘X’ layout. The shield if I can recall, was a nickel and steel make, being lighter due to less steel used. It was forged to I believe uncle Chalder’s specifications, as he saught a lighter shield that would not tire him so easily.

The bill was unique too, its head had was narrow and halfway to the tip, a curved hook bent backward. The shaft was iron and long, my height plus half of another me. Its pommel was simple, a steel octagon with no endorsement of jewels or precious metals. Am I relapsing to memory, but of which I seem fuzzy to recall. So far I know, that I have enrolled for a fight, against someone the coordinator would not say.

Julius and Methodius are nowhere seen abound, and that black void, what does this all mean? Then the clanking of gears gave way, and I saw the gate rise. I dawned my arms, walked out to a stadium, and saw King Lithuanian. At least that is who I think it is, his face was distorted and blurred. Be my eyes playing a lark on me? I lifted my helm to rub my eyes, but it did nothing, then a voice spoke out.

“Attention, attention, attention. The grand fight of this feast shall end today. So revel in drinks and song,” an announcer spoke. Horns began to sing, and calls of glee rang out. Then a caster stepped to the stage and performed spectacular shows of fire. After which the performance ended, the announcer took to the stage again. Soon the vocals from the crowd and festival horn waned down.

“Now a letter from our illustrious Magistrate,” the announcer spoke. “This is a wonderful festival, some of the best music, wine, and men traveled across our lands to take part in. But the hour had begun to close, as such let us see the finalists that won, from the last brackets and who will be crowned Vangroth. God of justice, order, and honor. Let the battle proceed.” Horns sang out again, and the announcer waited for them to be silent.

“In the gold corner, from the House of the Black Unicorn, Earl Samuel de Arsenault. And in the emerald corner, from Hamervenyel, one Claud de LaBassit. Let the battle begin,” the announcer said leaving the stage. A sudden flash hit me, I recalled this fight, it was one I nearly died from. Being that the wounds I suffered were deep and plentiful.

Claud would step out of the gate and charge full steam at me, with his broad sword in hands. “Come before me thy foe,” Claud yelled out, “you are no match for me. I am a mercenary with years of war under my belt.” I was right, Claud ran straight for me, quickly and narrowly I dodged at the last second. I rolled to the left, if I was to survive whatever I was in, a battlefield I shall have to move through.

Now that Claud missed me, I took up my bill and lay it down on the crest cut out of my shield. Claud soon followed me, and I faced him forward, I knew he was sly and not an honorable man. From the last time we fought, he used underplayed tactics against me. I thought to myself, asking if I should have to do the same. The tactician of me would say yes, but to lose honor, another matter entirely.

Then I remembered, here it should not make a difference between reality and this old drama. I asked Claud a question, “do you remember our last fight?” I kept my guard up, in case he will swing that sword of his towards my chest. Claud became perplexed and took his gauntlet to his helm with a bash.

He wore similar arms to mine, though he has a smaller breastplate. A style that allows a person more longitudinal movement, I remember that Claud would use large, side arching swings. Then he spoke, “listen here child, I have only just met you, if you are not going to take a serious play, then call forth a retreat. There has naught been a time before that we dueled arms, and even if I saw you on a field of war, I would remember your house’s coat of arms.”

This is no memory that I relive, but perhaps a dream? For he would not say such things, as memory would continue from where we left off. The crowd went silent, as they focused down on me and Claud. My feet slid into the dirt, gaining a foothold, I ran with bill in one hand and my shield on my back. Claud for his part took his long sword and blocked off his left side. Quickly, I threw my weight to the left and pulled my right arm back. Now in a spin, I face my bill downward and stopped to lunge my body to the right.

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Exposure of my chest had left me open to an attack. Claud raised his pommel over his shoulder, I lowered my bill to the ground. With a snap of my wrist, I twisted the shaft, and the bill’s turned 90 degrees to the left. Claud began to strike, aiming for my helm, I pulled back and the hook grabbed hold of his boot. Right before Claud struck, he came tumbling down to his buttocks. His balance was now lost, this battle was over and I asked, “yield, yield sir LaBassit.”

With having my weapon drawn to his neck, I stood over him with an imitation when I was bested by him. But he did not yield, his gauntlet swung at me dirt in hand, I became blinded by the dry dust he threw up. As disoriented as I was, I felt him swipe away my bill. After the dust settled down, there on his knees, he hoisted himself to his feet. He leaned over his sword, hands on the hilt, and I drew my shield out knowing that this would be a bloody one. Claud then kicked his sword over his right shoulder, I galloped back a few feet, I held my guard up with my bill horizontal in both hands.

Claud then strolled over to me, “have you no honor, or do you lack the very concept?” He said with a boasting repertoire. “You are a mercenary, how am I to believe you are the same? If you claim that I have none, then would you sir, drop ideas of riches for a country’s defense?” I said thinking that he would have his back turned to address the crowd. I was wrong, he stomped his foot, pivoted to me, and became unhinged. He struck at me by swinging downwards, I lifted my bill to block his blow, and with that our weapons rang out. The crowd roared back to thunderous cheers, and the fight had now truly begun.

For the next hour, we each traded hit after hit. Only to become battered, bruised, and bloody. I had my forehead crack open, and blood dripped onto my eyes. This was exhausting until I trusted my bill’s head between a loose part of Claud’s armor. He cried out in agony, with my bill sticking out of his right thigh. “Do you yield? Answer me, do you yield?!” I said now covered in dirt, blood, and spit. “I…I…I yield,” Claud said bent down and about to faint. The victory was mine, I beat Claud and I took to a bow. I became so excited that I won, even if this is a dream, I became so much more relaxed after such a fight.

Then I turned around, and Claud was frozen in the air, with sword in hand just inches away from my head. Then I heard a sly voice, “congratulations, you won. But this is just the beginning,” the voice said. I tried to pin down the man who called to me. But like the sound of broken glass, the ground under me started to fall apart. I tried to move, to get anywhere that was not crumbling, but the wooden walls were flat, not a single place to grasp. “Oh, trying to escape, are we? Let me know when you have done the impossible,” the voice called out again.

Soon, I was enveloped to the ground and began falling back into that void of pure darkness. “Have a fun fall,” the voice said, “the nightmare is about to start.” I did not understand what the voice meant by that, the armor I had found myself in had disintegrated from me. I had reached for my bill and it too dissipates from my eyes. I could see a flash before my eyes, I thought this would be the end, all those memories wiped from my mind. I began to await Hothlorad, the god of death, destruction, and decay. But he did not appear, so I kept falling and falling and falling.

I fell for so long, that I thought there would be no bottom. Then I opened my eyes and found myself lying in a shallow pool of water. Pushing myself back to my feet, I saw Ailbert my brother sitting on a stone. When I laid my eyes upon him, his face turned away from me. “Ailbert, brother,” I said with a shaken voice. He slowly turned towards me, “you left me and the family! You traitor,” Ailbert said in a snarling voice. “I did no such thing,” I said beginning to panic, “I left to restore our house’s honor. Do you recall, Ailbert, brother.” Ailbert got off the rock, jumped at me, and tried to grab my neck. A closer look granted me a horror much fowl, Ailbert’s eyes were gone, in their place were bloody sockets. “Ailbert, what are you doing?! I am your brother,” I said to him, struggling to keep him off of me.

“I have no brother!” He said with anger in his words. I failed to keep him off of me, he pierced my neck with his nails, and I struggled for a time. As he strangled me with his cold, coarse hands. Then I heard nothing, and my breath came back to me. I opened my eyes and again I found myself in that same shallow pool. I got up to find a singing voice and saw a woman dancing in a snow-white dress.

“Who are you, dancing one?”

“Oh Samual, does thou not recognize me?” The woman said coming to me, “it is I, Lanna, your only love.”

“La…Lanna?” Over saddened, I wept, knowing that she died long after I turned to stone. “Oh Lanna, oh my love, we were to be married after I returned from my voyage. How are you here?”

“Whatever does thou mean? Oh, Samual, you weep, yet I know not why.” As I looked up to her face, a veil covered her. “Come lay down on my lap,” she said, as she sat down on the watery floor. “Come won’t you rest your head?” I crawled over to her, where I laid down, and put my head on her lap. “Hush now my love, tell me, what brings you ill tidings?”

“I met my brother, you remember him, Ailbert.”

“Yes, I remember your brother, he was such a kindred spirit. Always going out of his way to help others, including the servants of your house.”

“Indeed he does,” I said look up to the empty void. “But he killed me, Lanna, Ailbert killed me.”

“That is not true,” she said, with a softening voice. “You are here, you must have dreamt it.”

“But I haven’t,” I said to her with anguish, “Lanna, he choked me to death, I felt every breath being taken away from me!”

“Silence now,” she said trying to calm me, “thou should relax, and collect your reward. A kiss across the head, as my love will always be true.” Lanna then lifted her veil, to reveal that her mouth was missing and her eyes made of glass. I screamed out, and her fingers turned to bone. “Now a kiss for my beloved,” she said raising a cleaned dagger.

There in the water, I lay, as she… no, not she but a monster. It stabbed me over and over until I had nothing but wholes in my chest. I could not move, as the sight of that thing left me breathless, I fainted again. “The horror, the horror, the horror, the horror.”

“Wake up,” said a mumbling voice, “wake up, sir Samual. Waaaake up!” Out of my mouth, “AAAAAAAAAAAAH!” I said screaming, then my eyes opened, and saw Julius standing near me. “Blessed me by the Nine, you’ve finally awakened. I had thought you left us from this mortal plane. Oh Earl Samual,” Julius said morning over me.

“Wait, where are we?”

“You are back to the living,” Julius said, looking up to my eyes. “You passed out after Methodius dragged you to the cavern.” I began to scan the cavern, a fire had been lit, and Methodius stand by it, examining a beast he brought in. “I… I… remember that we fought fox-like beasts. What happened to me?” Julius then called over to Methodius, “quickly, while he is awake, tell him what you found.”

“Sir Samual,” Methodius spoke, “after you were wounded by grey howlers, you broke into an awful fever. I took to my bestiary and found that howler over by the fire, had a sickness that passed to you. I administered as many herbs and tonics as I could, but we will need to move before another episode takes you.”

“That is right, to Millween we must go,” said Julius with a hasty expression. “The Sisters of Hippocraticus, they shall have the medicine to heal your ill body. Come we must move.”

“Are you sure,” Methodius looking towards Julius, “it is nightfall and it is pouring rain out there, sir Samuel is still too pale to be moved.”

“Methodius,” Julius said with a booming voice, “my words are final! Gather your belongings, cloth the Earl, we make for Millween at once.” And with that command, Methodius put a coat over me. Each gathered their satchels and brought out a torch. Julius handed me my walking stick, I grasped it and feebly heaved myself to my feet. Julius then stood near me, put his arm around me, and we set off into the night, towards Millween we went.