Nightfall. Zorn and Tristan spent the night at the blacksmith shop. Tristan tossed on his side snoring sound asleep. Zorn, on the other hand, couldn’t help but picture in his head what had just happened…
He took a giant gulp nervously as the vicious female elf dug the sharp blade slightly into his neck. Tristan noticed this instantly and prepared to charge her but halted at the sound of Zorn’s voice. “Don’t!” The knight continued to stare up at the glaring elf. “What are you doing? It’s me.”
A nasty frown appeared on her glittery face. “I know who you are. You’re a coward! A gutless coward!”
“What?” Zorn asked with surprise. The elf then took her sword back and placed it back into the sheath. She then turned around and departed quickly into the dark woods yonder. Tristan helped the knight back to his feet, asking who she was. He instead walked into the blacksmith shop.
“What happened all those years ago?” Zorn thinks to himself. With a sigh he turned over on his side to rest but a voice is heard from outside. It sounded like a female singing. Zorn stands up and opened the door to the shop. As soon as he shut the door he found a young girl in the distance above a narrow cliff. A bright full moon shun over her, given her the appearance of a glowing silver coin. Zorn warily walks up to her with his hand placed cautiously over the hilt of his sword. The girl stopped singing and slowly turned around. Zorn puts on a happy smile. “I’m glad you came back. Your singing has gotten better.” She looks down sadly. “Huh? Hey look sorry about what happened in the past. Something just came up and I couldn’t…huh?” The elf raised her head once more but with blood red eyes and almost vampiric fangs. She charged the knight intensely with her sword drawn. Zorn unsheathed his sword at the same time, preventing a mortal blow to the chest. “Are you REALLY that upset?” He asks confused.
She screamed at the top of her lungs, whaling on Zorn with his weapon. The knight quickly backs up, while blocking each blow in defense. She immediately swung her weapon down to the ground. It emits an electric type of energy that sends the warrior soaring to the sky. The elf jumps up towards him whereupon she grabbed his leg and threw him down on his back. As she lands on top of him, her sword is inches from his face. He managed to block in the knick of time but her strength was unbearable. She boasted a malicious grin until sensing another presence. As a knife strikes her arm she hops back startled.
“You really did piss her off.” Tristan said, standing with his sword unsheathed and glowing. “How about I lend a hand?” With that said, Tristan charged the elf. “No!” Zorn shouted. Tristan nears the injured elf with his arms swinging the weapon down. It is blocked. Tristan paused in shock. The elf did not defend herself. Zorn defended her with his own weapon. “Are you out of your damn mind?” Tristan shouted at the top of his lungs.
“Don’t touch her…” Zorn growled. Tristan slowly backs up. The knight lowers his weapon but then blood is shot all across the sky. Tristan grinds his teeth while tightening his hand on his sword. Zorn shakes as he realizes that his right side had been slit open. His armor is covered in blood. He turns his head back to the elf he had defended. She had a grin on her face. Zorn falls to a knee holding his side painfully. The elf raises her sword above Zorn’s head. As she nearly decapitates the warrior a flame of fire pushes her back. Tristan now took a stand in front of Zorn, in his defense.
“Now we do this my way.” Tristan ordered, looking at Zorn from the corner of his eyes.
“W…why?” Zorn coughs. “Alana, why?”
“So you do know her.” Tristan said silently. “Hey you! Why are you attacking someone like him? It’s obvious he was trying to protect you!”
She grins. “I don’t need protecting. Hehehe.” The elf broke into a sudden laughter that echoed through the night. “Now Zorn, Tristan, before this gets ugly would you kindly hand over those two artifacts?” Both men heard right.
Zorn forces himself back to his feet with intense hatred. “You…you’re not Alana. Who are you?” The elf spins around in a circle. After the complete circle her skin tone has changed into a darker color. “S…shit. A freaking dark elf…”
The dark elf puts a finger to her lips as she looked to the blackened sky almost innocent looking. “Let’s see. Should I tell you or no? hmm…I choose no. I don’t think I will tell you my name. At least not yet.” The two men glare at her. “Oh?” She put on a fake sad face. “I hope I didn’t upset you two. Look, I really don’t care about those artifacts. I was just sent here as a messenger.”
“A messenger from who?” Tristan demanded.
The dark elf smiled pleasantly as she looked toward Zorn. He instantly knew who she is talking of. “….Gala.”
“What?” Tristan asked in disbelief. “The legendary swordsman, Gala? I heard he died many years ago.”
“Oh no.” The dark elf snickered. “He is much alive. And he will make his existence known soon.” She put her arms around her head yawning. “Anyway I must make my departure.”
Tristan arched his sword towards her. “You’re not going anywhere.”
“Heh. Shouldn’t you be more worried about who is with your mother right now Mr. Blacksmith?” Concern filled the eyes of Tristan as he frustratingly ignored both the dark elf and Zorn and rushed back towards his house. With him gone, the dark elf once again turned to Zorn. She kicked off the ground and began floating up to the sky. “We will meet again, Zorn. I promise. Gosh I wish Lord Gala had told me how cute you were. Ha, ha, ha, ha.” Her laughter echoed through the troublesome night as she disappeared in black clouds. Zorn let out a sigh and was left alone on the grass with fearful thoughts of Gala’s return.
A rain of blood fell from the dark sky above. Several black creatures almost disguised as shadows, have the knight and blacksmith surrounded. With their eyes gleaming red and jaws agape, it is apparent what they demons were here for. Tristan and Zorn slowly drew their weapons and pressed their backs against one another’s. “This kind of thing happen a lot?” Zorn asks in a sarcastic tone.
“Of course not!” Tristan snapped. “It’s almost as if they knew we would be together. The two artifacts…guess they figure kill two birds with one stone.”
Zorn angrily takes a step forward. “Demons aren’t smart! Somebody is controlling them.” The knight began scoping the place.
“Don’t you think you’re being just a little paranoid?”
“You’re the blacksmith. I’m the warrior. This is battle tactics. I know they are being controlled. Hold on.” Zorn said as he reached to his side and retrieved the ocarina. Carefully putting it to his mouth, he began a beautiful melody. The creatures all hissed with not rage but pain. Tristan cannot but help be surprised.
The demons roared in agonizing pain. They shook their heads in rage and through this confusion they all began attacking one another. “So this is the power of the Ocarina of Malta…amazing…” Tristan mumbled to himself. He then glanced over to Zorn in thought. “That instrument controls faeries. But I don’t see any.”
In moments demon corpses lie spread across the dirt filled ground. Their body parts began to move once again. Tristan prepares to attack but paused when a faery rose up from the bodies. Zorn lowered his ocarina from his mouth. “Different melodies send faeries to perform different attacks. In this case, the fairy rips itself out of the demon.” Zorn sighed for a moment. “Look, I am not the one responsible for all these attacks as you can see but my new mission is to find out whose framing me.” Tristan continues to stare. Ignoring his glance, Zorn continues, “Unfortunately the faeries may not attack other faeries. There is no need for concern on that unless we’re attacked by a giant fairy.”
“Heh.” Tristan chuckled yet Zorn was silent. “…The thing that was controlling the demons was a faery….wasn’t it?”
Zorn takes a step back as well as Tristan. “We have to move. This thing will kill us both.”
“Where is the damn thing?” Tristan growled impatiently. Both warriors refrain from backing up any further. They feel something breathing on their necks. “Not good.” There is a loud roar that thundered through the sky. The faery dives in for a massive attack. Zorn and Tristan both dart for the shop. As the fairy nears they jump to the ground. It misses them by inches. The faery encircled the sky above. “Zorn, we have no choice but to fight. Retreating is futile!”
“I agree.” Zorn replied, raising his sword to the sky. The faery came back in for another dive. This time it opened its mouth. “What?” A blast of fire emits from the creature’s deathly jaws, aimed for the two figures on land below. The two rush backwards, trying to dodge the fire. Tristan manages to leap through the fire with his sword glowing. He spins around to swing his sword across the sky. With his eyes glowing red the blacksmith shoots his own fire back at the faery. Both energies collide with Tristan trying his hardest to keep the fire at bay.
“Hurry up and get out of here!” Tristan screamed.
“You idiot! You trying to get yourself killed.”
“Heh.” Tristan pants with a fake grin. “Something like this can’t kill the guardian of Dyne.” Zorn lowers his brows. “Get out!” Zorn instantly rushes forward with his sword. “What the fuck are you doing??”
“I don’t need your protection!” Zorn screamed back. The faery grew furious with the game of cat and mouse as it used all its power. Tristan’s arms began to shake wearily against the pressure when a glowing arrow shoots across the sky. Zorn paused to look up. “….That arrow…”
The arrow pierced the faery in its neck forcing the creature to scream in pain. “What the hell just happened?” Tristan gasped. Suddenly a woman wearing a glowing white cloak appeared above the faery. She drew a katana from her side, jabbing it into the back throat of the faery. After one more bloodcurdling cry the fairy collapsed. In just seconds the sky returned back to its cerulean state. Zorn and Tristan stare speechlessly at the woman in front of them. Without a single word she turned to walk away. “Wait! Who are you?” demanded Tristan. She continued to walk. “Hey!” Zorn shoves Tristan out of his way as he rushes up to this mysterious woman.
“Let me see your face!” Zorn yelled. “Now!” As he reached for her hood the woman delivered a kick that knocked him to the ground and a pointed her sword inches away from his neck. Silky blonde hair waved in the wind with pointy ears extending from the sides of her head. In the center of her forehead is a headband with a shiny blue emerald engraved in the center. She is a beauty beyond all beauty.
“Is that…an elf?” Tristan questions. “They are still around?”
The beautiful elf glared down at her foe. “You!” Zorn said with his eyes widened with surprise.
William’s calm demeanor cracked like a whip as a malicious grin smeared his face. In one strong thrust his spear came barreling down to where Tristan and Zorn stood. Thrown off guard the two were forced to jump to either side and somehow managed to evade the attack.
“Most impressive! I thought at least one of you would have been split in two.” William joked, regaining a bit of his old gesture yet cautiously remaining aware.
“It seems he has taken a liking to you, Zorn. What do you have to do with the likes of a Templar dog?” scorned Tristan, “You know what it doesn’t really matter. Let’s just get on with this so that we can continue where we left off. You had better start thinking of a good reason why you have that demonic Ocarina.”
Zorn, now resting his sword across his shoulder armor with one arm glanced over to Tristan and began to respond but was quickly cut off by William. “Yes, yes indeed. I too would like to know more about that ocarina. You see Tristan, Zorn is the one who has been controlling the so called ‘Faery’ that have destroyed towns such as Valent. He says that he is born of a local village yet Templar have questioned many and not one will speak of him.” William turned his attention more towards Zorn at this point, leaving Tristan slightly out of focus. “You will give me that ocarina of Malta. I will have all three Art…”
Without notice a flash of steel flew from behind William and no sooner was Tristan once again standing beside Zorn, this time with his back facing the stuttering Templar knight. Tristan threw his right arm outward and swiftly sheathed his weapon. The sound of broken wood echoed through the walls of the prison.
“You savage! Attacking a man from behind! What honor do you have!?” roared William who completely lost his cool. He stood holding two pieces of his once strong spear, rendering it useless.
“If that were the case I would have struck you dead where you stand. You may be of some use to me yet so hold your tongue. I am getting an odd feeling that Zorn may have been set up. Why else would you know so much and greedily want the ocarina?”
“I was about to tell you that.” Zorn said while looking up at the sky. “There are many things to discuss. I too have questions for you, Tristan and your interesting sword. Let’s go back to Dyne and discuss matters further.”
The two slowly tread out of the water and onto soil again. Zorn let out a stretch and a groan from being trapped inside the isolated prison cell. “I know where to find him if we need him again. Not even worth a look back…”
“I heard that! This won’t be the last time you hear from me. You two have made one giant mistake. Unfortunately many more will suffer for your actions.” Cackled William while shuffling up a dirt hill and darting off toward the main chambers of his castle.
“Tristan, you’re safe! I knew you would be but you could have at least sent a messenger to tell me you were!” cried Amiya while hugging her son tightly, causing him to lose his breath.
“Mother, t-this is Zorn. We need to use the house for a bit to discuss a few things.” He replied and made his way toward the entrance of his house but stopped short after peering in. “What the hell…? Forget about it.”
Zorn quirked a brow while folding his arms impatiently. He followed Tristan as he stormed down the path away from his house. Giving himself a look as well, he saw a man sitting down at Tristan’s table with a mug of beer looking impatient himself. It didn’t take a genius to figure out what was going on and so Zorn left the situation alone. The sun was setting slowly as shadows grew larger and the world around them settled down. The two said not a word until Tristan stopped in front of his dusty blacksmith shop.
“Here is as good a place as any.” Sighed Tristan, stressed from the day’s events. The door creaked open and out jumped an overgrown cat. Tristan saw through the corner of his eye Zorn jump and grab the hilt of his sword which made him chuckle. “You know, that cat has been appearing a lot lately. Guess he has no family.”
“Is that so? I know too many people like that.” Zorn replied and took a step inside the doorway.
“Yes, we finally have it. It belongs to us now and master will like us!” whispered a scratchy voice. Both Tristan and Zorn looked at each other and shook it off but the voice continued. “We have artifact! Now we need blacksmith and knight artifact!” Instantly the two scrambled back outside with weapons drawn. A large leathery winged faery stood from atop of a lantern pole piercing them with glowing red eyes.
A soft yet evil melody fogged the area, engulfing the two into an almost mesmerizing trance. Tristan immediately spun around to Zorn who gave him a justifying grin, still having his ocarina intact at his side. Thunder struck from above and slowly the heavens cracked open to let its tears fall upon the land.
“Where is it coming from…? It must be a diversion…” Zorn thought to himself before everything turned red.
Prisoners are heard screaming with rage throughout the entire prison. “Guards! Guards! Someone is trying to break out the new prisoner!”
Zorn stared down at the dirt-filled water that is now ankle high. “What do you want?” He asked, glancing over at the barred window.
“You have an ocarina isn’t that correct?” The strange man said. After a short pause he continued, “One that can control the faeries.”
Zorn was surprised as he quickly rushed up to the window. “Let me see your face!”
“Hey you!” A guard shouted from the outside. The man takes off. “Sound the alarm! We have an intruder!” Zorn spun around. Even the prison guards exited the prison.
“Damn! I’ll never get out of here.” He sighed, leaning his back up against the cold stone wall. Much to his surprise however the cell door opened as if on cue. Standing there with the cell keys is the little templar boy. “You…”
The boy looked down shamefully. “I…I know I’ll get in trouble for this but that girl…” He imagined the face of crying Sofia. Zorn is silent. “My name is Tim.”
“Much appreciated for the rescue Tim, but without my sword I’m still a sitting duck.”
“Oh no. I also…” He vanished and reappeared with Zorn’s sword from the other side of the wall. He hands it to the warrior whereupon Zorn attaches it to his side. “Can I help?”
“Sorry but I have no use for a child.” Zorn placed a hand on the sad boy’s shoulder. “Besides its dangerous; and Sofia wouldn’t forgive me for putting you in danger.” Tim raised his head proudly. “Later.” With that Zorn takes off.
A guard collapses through a mob of angry people. Several other templar knights surround the man known as Tristan. “Surrender now and we promise to take you alive!” One of the knights promised.
“You surrender now and I promise to make your death painless.” Tristan snorted, paying little attention to them.
“Have it your way! Pierce the crook!”
The knights all attacked at once but he easily dodged their attempts. A templar struck from behind but Tristan rose his sword up and around his neck, blocking the strike. The knight let out a growl before receiving a kick to his stomach that made him collapse on top of a barrel of apples. “Are you crazy?” A villager shouted. “Those are the Holy Templars from the Kingdom of Azul!”
Tristan charged several other knights, seeming to disappeared within the center of their white uniforms. Suddenly an orange flame ignites from the center, knocking them all back as if they were victims of a typhoon. The blacksmith lowered his glowing sword. “What was that?” Several people wonder aloud.
Tristan lowered the tip of his sword to one of the Templar, pausing it just inches away from his neck. “I have no issue with the likes of you. Stay put and I will be gone.”
“Hah! You’re not going anyway.” The knight laughed cowardly. Tristan spun around to find himself surrounded this time by about 30 knights. Even he realizes the foolishness in attempting to defeat all of them. With the knight’s swords now drawn, they inched their way slowly toward the intruder. Their speed increased and Tristan finds himself in a pinch. Several knights are heard screaming for their lives. Tristan and the rest turn their attention toward several fallen knights with Zorn standing in the center, his sword hanging over his right shoulder. He appears to be smirking. “Normally I wouldn’t smile during a fight because that’s what non talent bitches would do but today…today I may enjoy this.”
Tristan glared at the man who apparently saved his life.
“You there!” Zorn pointed. “Are you the one that was at my window?”
“Unless there is an imposter that can change form running around.” Tristan hissed.
“I’m not here to save you but I need to know how you know about the Ocarina of Malta.”
“Screw this!” A few of the Templar lost their cool and began to attack again. Zorn and Tristan are forced to face each other back to back.
“Are you good at fighting?” Tristan asked.
“You’ll see.” Both men attack the knights. In a matter of minutes none are left standing. “Now who are you? How did you know I was the owner of that ocarina?”
Tristan leant on his sword as the tip of it pierced the ground. “I was in that crowd and saw that blue haired knight take it. As for my name, I am not giving that to you, fiend. Now…” Tristan’s eyes slanted as sharp as his sword at Zorn. “Enguarde!”
“You two surely made a mess here. Tsk. Tsk.” Said a familiar voice. Both men turn to face the blue haired Templar. Fixing the glasses on his face, the knight withdrew a giant spear from behind his white cloak. He immediately raised it above his head and began spinning it around in circles like a helicopter wing. “As you already know, my name is William.” He grinned. “And both your heads will make nice trophies in my room.”
The man did not fall back as ordered. In contrast he pressed forward purposefully. Instincts usually serve Tristan well but there was something different this time; something unusual. With each step closer forcing him back, Tristan found the man was no man at all but a creature of some sort. Flashbacks seared through Tristan’s memory matching the face of the one in front of him to that of the one he cut in two the night prior. The raised sword grew almost unbearably hot, forcing a hesitantly stronger grip.
“You give us that weapon. We pursue you to death until it returned to true master. Plans he no tells us but is part of puzzle! ” cackled the creature which turned out to be another Faery. It suddenly flailed its arms and burst out its wings to send a barrage of vicious wind cyclones at Tristan, sending him toppling backward.
“Ugh… You coward, fight fairly!” Coughed the fallen warrior while using the hilt of his sword to pull himself back up. “W..what? Where the hell did you go, demon?” he said confused scouting the barren area around him. At this point it had been a long day and for all he knew what had happened could have been his imagination.
The sun seemed it had enough also as it slowly fell back to its resting place behind the mountains of Dyne. Although he finally returned to his home town, Tristan felt more comfortable sleeping outside. On the outskirt of Dyne was a spiral path that lead to a rocky hill that was easily hidden from non-residents. It was at the tip where Tristan found most of his rest growing up, laying on the soft grass and peering over as if a silent guardian. On clear nights he was able to lean over the edge and see the whole town lit up from torches at street ends and main pathways, even the one that lead east to the ocean. Tonight was the same as any other night and the exhausted blacksmith threw off his armor and rested his weapons against a tree. He rounded the corner, pushing through patches of vines to get to the tip and once again view the entire city and bid it good night.
“What strange things happen in your village, Dyne… if only you were still alive. I would have loved to meet the legendary blacksmith and co-founder of such a great land.” Tristan said while yawning when something caught his ear in the distance. There seemed to be quite a commotion happening at the nobles and knight residence.
“There are way too many torches moving at this time of night… and that is unmistakably the sound of prison bars being hit with metal. I thought the old prison was closed down last time it got flooded.” Pondered Tristan who instantly got his second wind and curiosity rose.
Tristan dropped off the edge of the cliff and slid down random dirt paths to help ease the momentum of falling and before he knew it an hour past and a large white tower greeted him under the moonlight. Keeping off the main path was vital if he wanted to keep unnoticed and he did just that until almost colliding head into a cloaked knight carrying a torch. Tristan gasped and dropped to the ground, narrowly avoiding confrontation. By this time he had thought the commotion had fully died down… he must have been a guard of some sort.
The ocean was now unusually close by, as Tristan peered down the right side of the building that seemed to go on forever. The water had engulfed the end of the building as waves came crashing down against the stone walls. By now his heart was beating fast with excitement and curiosity. His senses were at their peek, cradled in the night’s darkness yet drawn to the silvery light the stars allowed to light bits and pieces of path.
“Well this is pointless… I’m not just going to barge into the castle and demand to know why everyone is up so late, that’s suicide even for me.” chuckled Tristan who then let out a sigh. He couldn’t help but feel the whole trip was worthless. But suddenly a noise perked Tristan’s ears; Metal on metal, the very same as he heard from atop of his cliff. “Gotcha… just a bit further down.” Tristan exclaimed as half of his body was now emerged in water and he rounded the back of the castle which happened to be the old prison expansion.
As if magnetized, Tristan’s eyes beamed toward the center of a half-submerged cell block. He didn’t quite understand why but anger rose from within him as a silhouette caught his attention among the darkness. Out of nowhere Tristan whelped as the side of his leg singed with pain. Looking down through the salty water below him he could see his sword once again alive in a luminous red. “What the hell is its problem!?” Tristan thought for a split second but as quickly as it came did it fade away.
“I know you’re in there…” began Tristan, moving closer to the rusty bars. “If you don’t come forward and show yourself then I will pursue you and make you wish this hell of a watery grave came a lot sooner…”
Zorn stared deep into his ocarina, wondering what could have caused this strange phenomenon. Supposedly there was only one Ocarina of Malta. “Could it be a replica?” Zorn thought to himself, leaning on the wooden table in front. “Guess who!” Sophia said, cupping her brother’s eyes with her hands. “I’ll give you a hint. It is not your adorable baby sister.” “No…it’s a pain in my ass…” Sophia angrily tried to strangle Zorn’s neck with her tiny hands but his thought process didn’t seem to be distracted. The door of the small shack suddenly burst open with the grandmother standing in the center. “Quickly, I can’t believe my eyes!” The two followed the old woman outside where the entire village appeared to be mesmerized by men in white riding on horseback. “How does my hair look? I never expected to see THEM here.” “Who are they?” Zorn asked. He noticed several men wearing all white with a giant red cross in the center of their cloaks and swords at their sides. The man in front was a plump, ignorant looking man who apparently eats more than the village in its entirety. He reached into his cloak to pull out a large jug filled with an alcoholic drink. “They are the infamous Holy Templars. The man in front is in charge. He is Bishop Baul. Id rather say I would have preferred a child to be in charge other than him.”
“I don’t understand. Who are the Holy Templars and why are you so nervous seeing them?”
“You don’t know?” The grandmother stuttered. She turned her attention back toward the men on horseback. “The Holy Templars are the knights of the Holy Kingdom of Azul. It is said that no person of lower class is permitted even a few feet in front of their gates. Only those chosen by God can enter.”
“That’s not right granny.” Sophia moans, tugging the old woman’s gown.
“They are the only large kingdom that has not been taken over by evil yet.”
“Why are they here?” Zorn asked.
“I overheard a bit of commotion about them being here on account of the monster that attacked us.”
“They must know about the ocarina…” Zorn realized instantly. “Huh?” His eyes became trapped staring at one of the Templars on horseback. This man, a man with blue hair and short glasses, was staring straight at Zorn as well. “Who is he?”
“Hmm…” The grandmother looked at the man who caught Zorn’s gaze. “Oh that is the Bishop’s second in command. His name is William Bargot.”
The man William, squinted his eyes thoroughly until finding the ocarina at Zorn’s side. In panic the man waved his arm in the air. “Seize him!!!” He shouted. Before Zorn knew it a swarm of Templars were coming his way.
“Ah shit!” Zorn growled before drawing his sword just in time to block an attack. “…They aren’t trying to harm me…” Another Templar attacked but Zorn moved away just as both men crashed into one another. Zorn then raised his weapon but pauseed as the sharp tip of a spear stopped inches away from his throat. The warrior slowly gulped, his eyes gazed over toward William‘s. The brightness of the sun shown down on the man’s glasses to prevent anyone from seeing the seriousness of his eyes. “Do not even move an inch. Take him away!”
———————————————————————————————–
William walked back up toward his horse, petting the animal gently on the neck. “What was all the ruckus about, William?” Bishop Baul groaned after taking another sip out of his jug.
“Nothing my lord. We just found the one responsible for this mess .”
“Did he have the Ocarina of Malta?”
“Afraid not, sir. He was just the average crook.” William had said. Bishop Baul and the other Templars began marching with their horses once again. William stared at the bishop a few seconds before shoving the ocarina secretly in his bag. “Tim, are you ready? Tim?”
A young boy, around 15 years of age also wore the white attire with the same Templar sigil. He bent down to his knees and plucked a yellow flower from the ground. He calmly walked over to Sophia who was now looking down, attempting to keep her cries silent. “Excuse me miss.” The young Templar said. He handed her the flower with a peaceful smile on his face. Sophia giggled as she held the flower tightly to her chest. “What is your name?”
“S…Sophia…”
“That is such a pretty name.” The boy said, his grin widening.
“What is your name?”
“Oh um well…” The young lad put a arm nervously behind his head. His cheeks started to blush. “My names Tim…”
“That is a pretty name too. Are you a Templar too?”
“Who me? Oh no. I’m just the average squire. I clean the clothes and cook and stuff.”
“UH!” Sophia appeared to be disappointed. “That’s so mean of them. Making you do all that…”
This time the boy put both arms behind his head and laughed with nervousness. “No, no, no. It’s really not that bad. They give me food and a place to sleep.”
“You sleep inside with them….”
“Actually….uh yes…” Tim’s smile remained but he refused to tell the girl that he sleeps outside with the horses. “Anyway I have big brother William. He always sneaks food out for me. He’s not my real brother or anything more like an adopted one and stuff.”
A rock smacked the boy on the back of his head. “Hurry up you idiot!” William shouted from atop horseback.
Sophia grabbed the boy by his wrist quickly. “Please…” She said with tears in her eyes. “Let my brother go. Please…” Tim stares in her pleading eyes, speechless.
As he hopped on top the horse, the boy grabbed William around the stomach to prevent himself from falling off. He could not help but look back at Sophia, her words resonating in his mind. “Don’t do it.” William said as he stared straight ahead with his glasses twitching from his fingers. “Don’t fall in love with that girl.” Tim looked down in shame.
—————————————————————————————————–
Zorn is thrown into a watery prison. Due to a high tide water from the ocean continues to pour through the steel bars of the cell. The drains on the ground allowed some water to seep back out. The cell door was closed as the guard began to walk away. “…A bit of a flood you know.” Zorn shouted.
“Get me more sake!” Bishop Baul ordered one of his minions. The Bishop leant back on a nice red chair. There was a knock on the door of the room. “Enter!”
One of the Templar men enter the room with news. “My lord, what should we do with the prisoner?”
“I’m in a bad mood right now so I don’t know right now. Ask William.”
“We are out of sake m…my lord.”
Bishop Baul stands up in rage. “Hang the prisoner at dawn!”
Valent had been reduced to nothing more than ashes on the fateful 1st day of what would be January. Tristan and his mother had no more business to stay in such a town. Turning rock after rock proved useless, leaving them with no further information on the faerie or their supposed controller. Strangely enough not even stragglers were found within the village – it simply remained a wasteland.
Nightfall came and forced the two Dynites to take shelter off to the side of the main dirt path which lead back to their town. The wizard decided to part on his own to look for answers and despite their effort to help he went his own way. Tristan rested his back against a giant oak tree while Amiya found herself passed out and curled up in his lap. He however could not fall asleep so easily. Most of the remaining night the silver moon and he stared at each other in a trance as if each had cast their own spell on the other. Thoughts rushed through his mind like a continuous waterfall for hours. In his heart He had a bad feeling that the terror which plagued Valent had made its way to Dyne. The only assurance which allowed him to finally sleep was that his mother was safe. The next day would surely bring many answers. It had to.
The now familiar smoke scent had not left them no matter how far they walked the next day. The first step into Dyne was made almost hesitantly as Tristan braced himself for the worst. His clenched eyes slowly widened and much to his surprise all was normal. “Mother” he said while taking her hands, “I shouldn’t have doubted the power of our people’s heart. The only thing more beautiful to me than you is this town where I was raised. Hopefully one day the sun will shine brightly and bring good fortune on everyone. Families have worked so hard to form what is modern Dyne for generations.”
“Now is not the time to reminisce, Tristan. We’ve got to get to the bottom of this! Don’t you think other people said the same thing about Valent? Those poor people… Where on Tybonia do you think they are?” Amiya began to ramble but was quickly cut off.
“Don’t you worry, everything is going to be ok. I have so many things on my mind right now, mother – bigger things. I have to better myself mentally and physically if I want to continue this journe…” Tistan’s voice trailed off at the sight of his mother’s trembling eyes. He knew all too well what she was feeling. He knew of a man who always told her the same sort of stories and who set off on adventures, leaving her alone with only memories and hope. “Mother… I’m not “him”. I won’t abandon you. Now why don’t you go home and cook something up for later. I have something important to attend to.
As the day pressed on Tristan was greeted wholeheartedly by people young and old. After a quick meal he visited the book shack (too small to be a library!) to begin his quest for answers. “You’re back, finally! Tristan, there were quite a few oddballs looking for you in your absence. And one of them you will surely be surprised with! He can be found at the inn. I.. I’m not supposed to say anything so let’s keep this short.” The book keeper began excitedly, glancing over his shoulder every now and then. “This guy… he gives me a bad feeling. He has an instrument that I have never seen before. He played it softly last night, not knowing that I was still in the shack. Look, all I’m saying is to be careful.” As quickly as the book keeper greeted Tristan, did he retreat back to work and began shuffling through dusty old parchments.
“Useless… everything here only tells about folklore and children’s tales. I can’t even find information about magic, let alone musical instruments.” Sighed Tristan, with crossed arms behind his head and chair backward. “Now I remember why nobody ever goes here. I guess that will have to be all for today… “
After leaving the shack, Tristan gave a long yawn. The past few days finally caught up with him and it was time to head back home. Instinctively he began to walk in the opposite direction across town down a cobblestone path to where his blacksmith shop was, and only realized where he was going when the old wooden shop loomed above him. “Oh great, you know you work too much when… ah well, I guess there rarely was a night when I didn’t check up on the old place. Maybe I should pick up the hammer and work on Mr. Trowly’s bastard sword.” He then let out a chuckle, with the older man’s image crossing his mind. “Don’t know how he wealds such a big sword, let alone use it.”
Just as he took hold of the doorknob and pushed the creaky door open did a loud metal crash echo from inside. Tristan jumped back, startled and immediately clenched the hilt of his sword. “Who’s there? Show yourself if you value your life!” Tristan shouted, eyes scouting the perimeter wildly. A quick response was made, and deep inside Tristan actually wished for the worse to test his skill. A large white cat darted from one corner of the room to the other and meowed lazily, instantly relieving Tristan of his ‘ready stance’. “Kitty, you know how lucky you are!? I could have killed you!” he laughed and made way into the main room. Everything was where he left it, including all of the unfinished items he had stacked up. This quickly gave a change of heart as he decided to leave (the work for another day). Upon backing out and closing the door, again was he startled; this time by a large figure which stood no more than 6 feet in front of him.
“Look, now is not a good time. You are going to have to come back.” He began, changing tone more inquisitively once the figure was focused. “What type of armor is that?” he thought to himself, “Nobody from around here wears that…” and that is when his glance fell upon an item strapped to the man’s waist.
“You! Fall back at once!” demanded the blacksmith as he drew his sword; it glistened a bright red and instantly the atmosphere around the two grew hot. With no hesitation he pressed forward, aiming the point of his weapon to the chest of the man who stood before him. “You like to control things, do you? I’ve heard a lot about that ‘thing’ strapped to your waist there. It’s the instrument that brings death! Explain yourself quickly. I am not in a forgiving mood…”
Normally today would be just as beautiful as the last in the village of Dyne but not on this day. During the aftermath of the fight against faeries, several houses were damaged or destroyed. Gray clouds covered the sky above, blocking all sunlight and bringing swift winds down on the land. Zorn pushed his way through several thick roots of dead trees and found himself inside the village he had been in search for. Now he must find the blacksmith Tristan, as his sword was now too rusty for battle. He found it strange that there were no guards at the entrance of Dyne, nor were there happy children running about like in his memories. Zorn quickly rewrapped his scarf around his neck, covering himself from the freezing cold. A man nearby had crouched down to lift up some firewood. “Excuse me.” Zorn said politely. “I need help in finding somebody.” The man turned his head toward Zorn but upon realizing the armor he wore, grew angry. “We don’t help traitors!” The man snapped before storming away without his firewood. Zorn then sighed. He generously picked up the man’s wood and set it on a tall rock in the distance before walking away himself.
———————————————————————————————
Two young children hold on to one another in fear. They clasped their hands together and nudged their heads so that they touch. Behind the two were several other children doing the exact same thing. An old woman, apparently in her late 80’s, had sat on a tall pile of hay and was in the process of telling the children scary stories of past. “…And then the elves gave the two artifacts to the old hero, Gala. Unfortunately man is too greedy for such privilege and Gala suffered a terrible fate.” The old woman explained. She acknowledged all the children present, all with fearful eyes. A smile cracked on her wrinkly face. “But no need to worry children as it is all fiction.” This white lie was needed. In times like these children needed to be children. Instead of worrying about the dying world, they should be off playing and thinking of no future but of the games they would play tomorrow. The old woman clapped her hands together. “Well this old lady is done telling stories for today.” She said as she slowly stood up with the help of the children. One young boy handed her a cane. “Thank you, Matthew. You know us old people. We cant do anything on our own.” The children all laugh before disappearing towards new grounds of fun.
“They sure love it when you tell your stories, grandma.” A young brunette said as she snuck up from behind.
“As I recall you used to love my stories as well.” The old lady said with a smile., turning around slowly to kiss her granddaughter on the cheek. The sixteen year old girl had her hair tied in a ponytail and wore a stylish light blue shirt over a long white dress. Although her grandmother was small, she was even shorter being her age. “Sophia, why do you always insist on wearing nice clothes when you play with your friends?”
“It’s okay grandma. I never get them dirty. I promise.” Sophia said with a peaceful smile. “I’ll be home before supper.”
“Sophia!!!” A young child shouted from across the block. The two exchanged waves. “You have to come see this. There is a knight in town.”
“A…knight?” Sophia repeated as she lowered her arm slowly. The old lady overheard the young boy too and accompanied her granddaughter to meet the knight.
————————————————————————————–
“Come on! Fight back you coward!” A young child shouted teasingly. He, along with several other children, were chucking rocks at Zorn. The warrior takes the hits without moving; without caring. “What are you going to do stand there like a rock?”
Zorn quickly reached for the handle of his sword and swung the weapon in midair. The young child felt the wind from his blade before the knight before he sheathed his sword. A bird drops in front of the child, the head had been decapitated. “Wow!” Another child exclaimed in amazement.
“Y…you tried to kill me.” The young lad muttered with piss dripping down his pants.
“You are poorly mistaken. I was after the bird. It was a demonic bird.” Zorn explained while raising his eyes to the sky. “If I was trying to kill you, id stab you in the eyes.” The boy screamed in terror before he ran away. The other children laugh. Zorn laughs to himself but still manages to keep a straight face.
“Hello?” Asked a voice from behind. Zorn turned and finds Sophia looking up at him. “You!” Sophia shrieks. She tightened her fists in anger before jumping up and slamming Zorn hard across the face. The children back up in fear. Nobody is allowed to hit a knight, especially irresponsible children. Zorn rubs the bottom of his jaw as he shakes his head. “…you”
“I’m only here for a blacksmith. I was trying to refrain from seeing you…” Zorn said calmly. He watches the eyes of the young girl. “There is no reason for you to be angry with me. I did what I had to.”
“Liar!” Sophia screams with tears in her eyes. “Do you know how many times I would see my friends having fun with their older brothers? Everyone of them would have fun but not me. My brother left me when I was only six.”
Zorn crossed his, looking to the sky. “This was a bad idea…”
“Mom said that a bunch of boys from this village were sent to train for combat skills and you were one of the top students. You sent letters for a while until five years ago. Why is that? And why are you here without your squad?”
“You still talk too much. Fine then.” Zorn crouched down to his little sister. “Look the truth is something bad happened five years ago and its dangerous for me to be around you or the rest of our family.”
“You…me…grandma. We are all that is left.” Sophia slowly said, continuing to glare at her brother. Zorn stared speechlessly in Sophia’s eyes. “Our parents were murdered a year ago because it was believed they knew where you were hiding.”
Zorn turned around instantly and started pacing back and forth with his eyes narrowed and teeth grinding. “…how cold are they?!” Zorn growled but then paused. “Where’s grandma?”
“I’m right here.” She said. The old lady was listening to the conversation the entire time. “It’s good to see you are alive and well, Zorn.”
“You too.”
“We all figured there was a reason you weren’t bothering with any of us so why now? Why have you returned to your home?”
“I cant tell you that. Sorry.” Zorn replied. “I cannot stay long. Would u please tell me where a blacksmith named Tristan resides?”
“Of course, of course.” The old woman said as she waved her hand around. “Follow me.” Against his will Sophia jumped on her brother’s back and held on to his shoulders for a piggy back ride.
—————————————————————————————–
The three walked, Sophia skipping as she excitedly held on to her brother’s hand, Zorn couldn’t help but realize all the damage that had been done to Dyne. “What happened?” He asked. “Were you raided by bandits?”
“Not at all.” The old lady responded instantly. “We were attacked by some kind of demon. It came out of nowhere and brought destruction along with it.”
“Where is the demon now?”
“It’s dead.” Sophia answered. Zorn is puzzled. “Let’s see first a wizard tried to beat the demon and then someone else came and finished it off.” She puts a finger to her lips. “I can’t remember his name though.”
The old woman stopped along with the others. Ahead of them several men were attempting to lift the heavy demon on a wagon carried by horseback. Zorn walked ahead, eying the creature suspiciously. The wings and the ears give it away. He snapped his head back to his sister and grandmother. “What the hell is this?!”
“What’s wrong big brother?” Sophia asks.
“The demon you were talking about…this faerie?!” Zorn questions. The old woman nodded with all seriousness as Zorn turned his attention back to the faerie corpse as it is taken away. “How could a faerie do this?” The warrior thought to himself. “It makes no sense. A faerie is forbidden to harm a human soul. The only way they would cause chaos is if someone were to use the Ocarina of Malta and demand it.” Zorn grabbed his ocarina, staring at it in a deep gaze. “I’m not responsible for this. Shit!” Zorn swings his head to the traveling corpse that was led toward a large fire where it will be burnt until there are no remains left. “All I need is new problems. First I have to hide the ocarina before I am accused and second…I’m not the only one who can control the faeries…”
Everything the old man had worked for is entire life was gone. His entire family and he poured their heart into making the foundation for the newer of the three villages, Valent. Sorrow was not the emotion needed just yet however as the old man’s eyes suddenly clouded into a whirling milky white hue. The sky above seemed to crack open as if from stress as the old man threw his robe to the floor and raised his arms with open palms. At this point Amira hadn’t the slightest clue as to what was going on. Instincts took over and flight was chosen in fight’s stead.
“What the hell is going on… where is my son?” Amira whispered to herself while peering in from outside the village gates. The faerie’s face remained dull except for its burning red eyes. She noticed that this one in particular was unlike any faerie she had heard of. It was dark and wasn’t fidgety instead it moved slowly and with purpose. The wizard almost floated toward the unmoving faerie and came to a halt about four horse lengths from the faerie.
Rain now began to fall from the confused sky above. If it had vocal chords it would have sighed in relief for the rain was much needed. Slowly one by one the cottages burnt out and black smoke lingered above for quite a while. Amira knew in her gut that the wizard had done this but one thing made absolutely no sense to her: Why couldn’t any of the other wizards have done this? And why couldn’t they defend themselves? After all, there seemed to be only one faerie. Just as her brain kicked into overdrive did the faerie stop grinning and lowered fully onto the ground, its leathery wings found their way into its backside. The rain now pounding relentlessly grew which in turn made the atmosphere foggy. Amira squinted and shielded her brows to see better yet it seemed not to affect either the wizard or faerie. In turn the faerie finally spoke. It’s voice was unearthly: dark and ominous yet surreal. “Let not your eyes beseech you, mortals. Everything is not as it seems.” It then paused and glanced from Amira to the wizard, “We faerie fall under a set of rules and regulations foreign to humans yet at times unfortunately governed by humans. This is one such example. We must follow the sound. It calls for us and entrances us, each time in a different way. The call tonight was of malice… though we mean no harm, we were for.…ce…” the faerie continued but was cut off by an abrupt burst of lightening. Amira let out a scream of terror between the strike of lightening and the faerie’s prolonged speech. A shadowy figure leapt from atop of a cottage and within an instant came a blinding red light that cut swiftly through the air and ended in the earth. It landed crouched beside the faerie with a right arm held upwards clasping the hilt of a vibrant sword. The faerie frantically grabbed its own face and patted down its chest as if searching for something however it was all too late. The faerie slid in two separate pieces and fell oppositely to the muddy earth below.
The figure sliced randomly at the air while rising to rid the weapon of stray blood and in one smooth motion sheathed it into its leather scabbard strung to his left side. “Immortal, huh? The gods must be on my side tonight” It said while turning to the pair. Before it could continue Amiya had already ran and pounced the figure back to the mud below.
“How could you do this to me!? Your just like your father, do you know that? You’re never leaving me again Tristan! Even if I have to…” screamed Amiya as she continuously attempted to punch her son. Eventually Tristan managed to bring them both to a kneel and took her closer into an embrace. Her concerned anger vanquished into a shaking sob.
“So this is Tristan. All brute and no brain I see.” The wizard boomed, eyes returning to normal as the rain slowly died down. “That creature apparently had more to say. Now we are left wondering what happened!”
Within a flash the sword Tristan carried was pointed an inch from the wizard’s throat. “Well “apparently” you are no smarter than I for if you seen my skills you would know I could kill you on the spot!” Amira ran to the pair and tried her hardest to pull her son away but soon realized the futility as he continued and pressed forward, sending the wizard toppling backward. “A lot of strange things have been happening lately ever since I went to mount misery. I honestly believe some force is controlling these faeries. A force that doesn’t quite know what it is doing or is capable of for that matter… My sword seems to interact with these strange occurances as if it is calling for something. Soon I will find out these answers so that nobody else gets harmed.” Tristan once more sheathed his weapon and extended a hand to the wizard. His gaze pierced the old man’s eyes as he concluded “I alone have been the protector of Dyne. I know now what I must do and become… for the sake of our world, the guardian of Tybonia.
The rare, mesmerizing bald eagle sits perched on the hand of a woman of heartbreaking beauty. Her skin is the color of crystal and her clothes resembled that of a priestess. “Fly away.” She whispered in a heavenly voice. As if it had understood what the priestess said the eagle spread its wings and took flight above the mountain range that encircles the entire village of Norm. Norm is a peaceful village that never took likely to intruders or messengers for that matter because of the tyranny that plagued the world beyond. The only contact that remained was with a neighboring village called Dyne. The two villages often traded products that were needed for everyday life without having to buy from more, less fortunate, villages. In fact, they are the only two villages that have not been raided by bandits or merciless knights as well as the only ones not attacked by demons. All wonder for how long this peace will last? “Priestess Isabel!” A young man dressed in animal fur called as he rushed over towards her, panting from his long run.
“What is it?” She asked gently. The man took a deep breath. “We have….we have an intruder.”
The priestess stared up at the heavenly clouds above in deep trance. “Where do they come from? What is beyond these mountains? Is it truly only murder and wraith or is there still beauty and love left in this horrific world?” Isabel quickly spun her head around to the man. “Just send the offense team like always.”
“We did. We sent twenty of them.”“Then there is nothing to worry about. Leave me be.”
“Actually there’s one problem…” The young man said as he blushed in embarrassment. The priestess gazes upon the man with disgust.
———————————————————————————————
Crowds of villagers, young and old, have gathered around the center of the village where a rusted golden statue stands tall in the center. Below lies nineteen of the twenty men of the offense team, withering in agony. A small, bald old man scratches his chin where a slight goatee has started to grow into a dirty gray color. He watched with admiration as the last of the offensive team fell to the ground in defeat. “Incredible…” He mumbled as the crowd began chattering with different reactions.
“What is going on here?” Boomed the voice of the priestess. Instantly the crowd grew silent. Several men and women stumbled quickly to the side as Isabel slowly moved between them all. She suddenly paused in shock when she found all of the offense team lying on the ground. Sitting beneath the golden statue is a knight with rusted armor. He was chowing down on an apple, ignoring the crowds gawking. As he finished all but the core of the apple, one of the villagers attempted to charge. The knight flicked the core to the man where he was struck in the forehead. The villager fell back, increasing the surprise of all around. “You!” Isabel shouted. “Did you do this to my men?”
“You don’t see anyone else around do you?” The knight replied rudely.
“How dare you talk to me that way! Do you have any idea who I am or where you are?”
“No…” The knight starts and stands back up. “I don’t care either. I was just passing through and I’m leaving now.”
“Wait!” The interested old man calls out. “You were fantastic. Can I have your name please?”
“….Zorn.” The knight replied. “Well Sir Zorn, I have some fresh armor if you would accompany me back to my house.” The old man promised with a happy smile. Zorn stared at the man suspiciously before deciding to go with it. A new armor would do nicely after all. Priestess Isabel looked pissed.
————————————————————————————————–
Half a day had gone by and the sun was now sinking behind the mountains, leaving an orange ray strewed across the sky. Isabel and the old man were inside a small shack along with several other villagers. They were discussing the new knight who had suspiciously arrived. “I don’t trust him.” Said one of the men. Others couldn’t disagree with the statement.
“He has not done anything so far and there has been plenty chances for him to wipe us all out.” The old man explained to all. “I believe he is a man in search of something.”
“What would he be searching for?” Isabel asked. The old man prepares to reply with an answer before they are all hypnotized by a beautiful melody trailing from outside.
The entire lot dispersed from the cottage quickly to find the source of this heavenly music. Much to their surprise the traveling knight, Zorn, was the source. He stands above a nearby cliff with his ocarina to his lips. As he blew into the instrument music of heavenly nature erupted from within himself. Strange lights have suddenly appeared from out of nowhere and their appearance is increasing every minute. “Bugs?” Isabel wondered aloud.
“Fairies.” The old man says with his eyes widened in shock. “I cannot believe what I am seeing…”
“What is it old man?” Isabel demanded while the others were smiling as if drunk from the happy melody.
“That instrument…that is the Ocarina of Malta…” He started. “It is the instrument built by the elves generations ago. How does he have it?”
“What do you mean?”
“You see, it is one of two artifacts created by the elves. They had handed it down to a man they saw fit, a man who had been predetermined in legend to bring the end of the darkness. That man was the great swordsman, Gala.” The crowd had grown silent. This man Gala was a legend among the knights, the best there had ever been. He was a hero with a tragic end. “It was rumored that when the two artifacts were brought together it would either destroy a man or end the darkness. Unfortunately man is greedy. Gala was no exception. The powers of the artifacts are said to bring forth the fairy god who will give the user one wish alone….to bring end of darkness or give immortality to the user. Gala chose the latter. Consumed with greed and anger, Gala became evil.”
“Then why is it that this man is not?” Isabel asked in interest.
“I only see the ocarina. I don’t see this other artifact in possession.”
“What is this other artifact?”
“I am not quite sure what to call it but I’ve heard that it is a sword made of fire…”
————————————————————————————————–
The following morning had arrived. Zorn walked out of the cottage alongside the old man. He now wears a new armor, one that is less dirty. Isabel and several of the other villagers meet him at the exit of the villager. “As it turned out, you did not come here to harm us.” Isabel said. “There are hardly any noble knights left around so I offer a job for you to protect this village with your sword. What do you say?”
“My sword is only used for my own services.” Zorn replied.
“We will pay you handy.”
“I care not for your money nor any of you. I am on a mission and I will not be held up by civilians.”
“Hold your tongue imbecile!” One of the villagers had shrieked but the priestess held out her arm to calm him.
“Very well. May your journey be of good fortune. So long fake knight.” Isabel said before she and her men walk away from him and the old man.
Unhurt by her cold words, Zorn faced the old man. “Could you tell me where I can find a blacksmith? My sword needs repairs.”
“Yes. Dyne village has fancy blacksmiths. Ask for the man named Tristan. He is an interesting fellow, that one.”
“Thanks. I’m off.” Zorn gives a quick wave and said.
“Good luck on your journey, Knight Zorn.”
“…not Knight…just Zorn…”
