Part 1 – Aria’s point of view

Catching the blinding reflections cast by the knights’ armor plates, our young lass squints her eyes as she contemptuously watches them go their way up the horizon. Her heart stung, she gnashes her teeth and clicks her tongue loudly. She messes up her hair in shock of a sudden revelation; never did she think about having any sympathy for the young hero Linus of whom many times rejected her advances.

An ailment she thinks she combats within herself. She steels her thoughts resolved, saying “Good for him!” to herself, yet in her heart, how she wished she could be of assistance to this young man. Half-lies, she generously flatters the young hero the last night in hopes to gain favor, but half-truth, she admires him – a real fan she is. To her it matters not how rotten the character of the young hero is; her imagination is still held captive by the romantic rumors and tales that surrounds him. She believes in him in his cause and nobility. She believes that such a character will change the world for the better. And she still believes that such a hero will come in aid of her suffering and to fill the void in her heart. She feels that no other man is suited for the role.

Still loathing and fantasizing by herself inside her private quarters, by the window she incidentally catches a glimpse of the young hero stumbling on the pavement in the front yard, trying to reach up to the fine knights, Albert and Richard, appealing to them for the last time but only to be rejected, he holds his head low. A sudden wave of light comes to her mind, causing her lips to stretch from ear to ear. “He will be mine!” she tells herself. She had a change of mind.

She calls Elliot to her service and heads out of the palace in secret. And being an elite warrior himself, the knight knows very well of the arts of concealment. In silence and stealth the two left without a trace; not even the nosiest palace maid nor any of the attendants know of their little expedition. And with haste, Elliot dashes, carrying the princess on his back. The azure gems embedded on the joints of his armor glows with every leap, lending much strength and endurance to his limbs, allowing them to cover much distance with very little time. In no time, they find themselves stepping into an old friend’s place.

Parting the wind with lightning fast slashes, there in the yard is a noble youth in armor, vigorously training in the arts of the sword. Interrupted by the sudden entrance of the uninvited visitors, he rightly puts an end to his practice, trusting the sword down by the pommel to the ground. Normally, unwelcomed interruptions frustrate him enough to unscrew the pommel of his sword and throw it at the guest, but to these people he simply couldn’t do. Instead, he bids them welcome, bowing deeply, kissing the lady’s hand, “My princess, what brings you to my estate?”

“I’m not your princess, Freddie. I need some assistance, a few men would do.” bluntly the princess demands, stomping her foot in the mud.

“Not without a ‘please’, my princess. But for you, perhaps I’ll throw an arm and a leg and do anything. Just please, allow me to partner with you…” He kisses the lady’s hand once more, smiling suggestively, murmuring “… in bed.”

She pulls her hand out of the youth’s grasp and smacks it harshly against his cheek, leaving a sharp red impression of her palm and fingers on it. “When did it become proper for a nobleman like you to make such a vulgar demand of your princess?”

His smile unerased, he further jests “But I’m a good friend, your highness. Haven’t I gotten my answer from your highness yet? Since we’re children, I honored you with gifts and acts of valor just to hear it.”

“Forget it, you’ll know your answer soon enough. And knowing my father, he will reward you handsomely for this quest.”

“But what do you need of it? Do you intend to start a skirmish?” Indeed, the youth is reasonable enough to ask the question, which puts the lass in a bind. She puts her hand over her face and rubs her temple with it. Furrowing her eyebrows, she is hard at work to think of an excuse other than to tell him the truth that she solicits help for her young hero, Linus.

“Your highness, we have guests coming.” Elliot calls the princess’ attention.

Stealing a glance at the said guests from afar, Freddie smirks sinisterly “Ah… So this maybe it, my princess. Hide yourselves by the garden, by the trees.”

Chin high, the princess turns her face from the youth and walks away followed by her guardian. They hide behind the trees, concealed in complete silence by virtue of the secret art the elite guardian casted. With meager presence, not even the insects or the critters of the wild can tell them apart from the surroundings. In the calm they direct their attention towards the mysterious guest.

Eyes widened and bewildered, the princess’ heart rate rises after recognizing her friend’s visitors. She doesn’t expect Linus and company to visit a rival whom he had just humiliated the other day. The lad’s serious look reveals that he himself cannot believe the progression of the events. He even bows and apologizes hypocritically about yesterday’s misdeed.

The noble youth himself is in shock. He spits on earth and stomps on it. Clearly, he cannot hide his disappointment just a day after. He may still hold a grudge against the lad after all, and him coming to apologize in front just a day after relieves him of the pleasure of begrudging a rival from whom he draws much encouragement to strengthen himself in training. As it is distasteful, he may even take the apology as an insult against his honor. Even as he forces himself to remain calm, he cannot stop his fists from clenching or his flesh from trembling.

To lend the lad a favor, the retired court scholar, Master Kong, reaches the youth’s hand, imploring his aid in their quest to eliminate the plague of dragons in the Northern Rocklands. He goes as far as to flatter the youth of the recognition he may receive by doing such a heroic deed, telling him of how his name will be etched in history forever. With a masterful stroke of words, he persuades the youth to transform his frown to a smile and his eyes of disdain to eyes of interest.

Immediately, the youth invites the guests to tea over a bench by the garden. With a snap of a finger, the youth’s attendants are quick to serve the esteemed guests with snacks. He then initiates the discussion on tactics. Skeptical, he is quick to ask them about methods to employ in the extermination. The guests are quick to address the query, showing him a handful of maps and manuscripts containing the methods they have at disposal in dealing with the dragons. With a smile of satisfaction, he shakes their hands, promising them of the much needed assistance. And after consuming a cup, they conclude the discussions; the guests are in a hurry to leave. Seeing that they come in foot, the youth generously sends them away, offering his luxurious carriage. Obliged, the visitors take the offer. The youth watches them drive away as sudden as they came – their shadows vanish like specks of dust in the horizon.

“Scarlet, the dummy!” From the shadows, the clattering of metal plates resounds. An ominous man in a black iron mask who’s also covered in an odd cloak of crimson appears, erecting in the garden a dummy of straw.

“Come out, princess!” The youth pulls the sword out of the mud and brandishes it to the side. Blue sparks arc in a furious dance, gravitating over the blade. “HEEIIYAA!” In a spinning motion, he violently sends the edge of the blade flying toward the straw man trailed by the zapping blue sparks. Buzzing, the blade cuts across the target like it would butter, severing its head cleanly. The severed member then drops to the floor, freshly smoldering from the cut; its smoke rises to the clouds.

“HEEEIIYAAA!” Not content, the youth showers the decapitated straw man with a barrage of speedy slashes, further mangling and dismembering it. Panting, he stops beating the poor and unresponsive opponent, and then he sheathes the sword, strapping it back to his hip. He smirks. “Granted that’s what you wish for, you needed not to ask your servant a favor. I’ll come to help him personally with the aid of this man, Scarlet.”

The princess sees through the youth’s murky eyes, his insincere smile, and his chilling display of vexation, unmasking the hypocrisy – he can’t be trusted. Revealing herself to him, she chooses to remain silent about her observation, behaving high and mighty as usual. Yet deep inside, she is badly troubled and even annoyed, secretly cursing Linus and his ancestors. How she wishes to have offered help to the hero instead, and how close she is to wrapping her fingers around his neck. Her mad delusions of having the lad kiss her feet and toes in apology easily get shattered by this event.

Pulling hairs, she expresses irritability to the youth, which perfectly conceals her thoughts about the matter as she normally exhibits the bizarre behavior whenever she’s with him. “Arrgghh! Why did I even come here?” she continues, addressing her guardian “We’re leaving.”

The youth offers to escort them back to which the lass proudly refuses. With her chin as high and stiff as in her usual meetings with noblemen and royalty, she snubs the youth scornfully, walking her way out of the property. Her heavy footsteps are only made heavier by her annoyance of the mud, which dulls the sound her heels make. On the contrary, the act makes her awkward movement more pronounced, which effectively transmits the message to those observant enough to see it.

Despite the unexpected complication, the lass refuses to give the matter a rest. In fact, the incident encourages her to think of a better way to get closer to her young hero. Walking slowly, she brainstorms with Elliot, wherein a mention of a familiar drop of a name gives her a sudden brainwave. Fists clenched, she dashes with her company to the horizon to meet the man who can help him win her hero’s heart.

Part 2 – Linus’ point of view

When I thought the world will end, Master Kong comes to the rescue by suggesting to get Freddie on board with the dragon extermination. I didn’t like it, and I didn’t think it will work until the master puts his silver tongue to work, convincing Freddie to cooperate in the venture. In this day and age, who wouldn’t want to be a hero? Me.

And speaking of the youth, I just hope that I can trust his vested self-interest, after all, that is one of the tenets of capitalism – trust not the person but the vested interest. He says that it may take him at least a day to prepare his troops for the expedition, but once done, he’ll rally them to meet with my party at the base of the northern hill, at the forest’s and the mountain range’s entrance.

I don’t have any qualms about the extra time as I myself am not fully prepared to take on the dragons. I still need some time to finish the new and improved powder kegs, and since we do not have the strength of the Teleknights’ psychokinetic powers, we need more of the weapons in the fight. So I task Nina and Ricardo to procure from Faye several wagons more of lead and chemicals for the production of weapons. Short of hands, I have the slaves help on the manual aspects of the manufacturing process. Fortunately, we finish everything past midnight, allowing us a few hours of sleep before the expedition.

Strangely, I haven’t seen Aria for the entire day. I expect that she would at least watch us manufacture more of the goods, but I guess she isn’t really interested about that. And I’m troubled as well, thinking that I might have gone overboard the last night that I talked with her. And the more I remember, the more I regret being mean to the lady after hearing from the maids how she didn’t leave her room at all today. The maids report as well that she hasn’t had any meals at all since the incident. I’m worried I will be blamed. I don’t want to get into fights with nobles after all; now I’ve done it.

Excitement and worries fill my mind, exciting it like high-caffeine dosage would. While the rest of the folks have already gone to bed, I remain awake, walking back and forth the back yard, throwing some practice swings with my weapon to calm myself down. While I forget some thoughts, new ones spring to my mind, like the fight I had with Freddie.

They say I won, but it was a crushing defeat, even with the advantage provided by the new weapons. But even that was just sheer luck. I was able to defeat him only by surprise.

With the lingering thoughts, I swing my bat against the air, faster and stronger, and with my legs as well, I kick harder, leap father, and maneuver around the maze of a construction yard I made within the past few days, faster and faster. Only in a few laps, sweat starts to cover my entire body, drenching the light garments I wear. Tranquil as it is, not a voice or noise distracts me from my physical training, until exhaustion creeps in. Cold grass cushions my fall, lending me a perfect mattress to rest in. Bathed in its fresh and bitter scent, I slowly close my eyes and relax my muscles. My thoughts eventually fade into the void.

Part 3

Sweltering hot, my eyes melt, my vision turns and my head hurts and rings as if being crushed under the pressure of the stomping of a thousand iron plated hooves of horses stampeding in the Sahara, all upside down, all running towards a spiral and out. I would have grabbed and rubbed my splitting forehead if I could but weakness prevents me. My blisteringly hot arms and legs barely listens to my commands. Though in a bit, my body forgives me – my consciousness and vision clears. I find myself in bed being nursed by Nina by the side.

“Sir Linus, how do you feel?” A relief, Nina puts her cool and soothing palm on my forehead.

“not good” My voice scratches and my throat stings and burns badly. Nina folds and places a damp and cool towel on my forehead.

“no good, we have to go” I remember the commitment we have with Freddie. No matter what happens, we must meet up with him. Gathering strength to my body, I try to rise up from bed but Nina weighs her hand on my shoulder and quells my effort.

“You don’t have to. Freddie sent a message, saying that it may take him another full day to gather support. Use this day to rest.” Nina flips the damp towel on my forehead, relieving my worries like the steam that comes off the towel.

Saved by my good fortune as always, I focus on recovering. I stay on the comfort and warmth of my bed, reading Nina’s drafts to kill time, tearing through them page by page. Danglers, faulty parallelisms, fragments, comma splices, run-ons, and other errors not mentioned are becoming less and less. Truly, Nina has matured much in a little time as her persistent practice in writing shows.

I graciously return the drafts to her, praising her work. Her cheeks redden and her lips contort as she intently fiddles with the pages. Although she doesn’t want to say it, I feel that she’s happy with the little achievement she has earned. She peels me an apple and even feeds me gruel for lunch by herself. I don’t know if it’s because of my sickness that she’s giving me a special treatment recently. But wait, I’m reminded, what was that slap for last time?

Confronted with the question, Nina drops the bowl and spills its blisteringly hot content on the blanket covering my lower half. Hot steam comes off her reddened face whose complicated expression I doubt cannot be drawn by artists, be him Leonardo. She shakes her head and covers her face and stiffly turns around, murmuring “… you really didn’t know?”

The boiling fluids seep through blanket and my pants, making me jump off in a surprise. “I REALLY DIDN’T!”

Smiling brightly, Nina does a one-eighty in an instant and throws me a hug, clasping both her hands tightly at my back. “Thank god!” Her warm yet barren front, impoverished ribs rather, rubs against my shoulder like a washboard would. Pity I sigh, thinking that she will do herself a favor eating the gruel in my stead. Even though sick, I’m healthy enough. This journey probably is not doing her good as her health indicates it.

Pushing her away, I bring to her my concern. “Nina, don’t you want to take a break? We’ll be fighting dragons, and I even got you involved in dangers many times in this journey. I wish you can just stay here to take care of the master.”

Eyebrows knit and lips curled up, Nina’s pupils gleam brightly reflecting the grace of the afternoon sun and the white of her eyes, as pretty as the clear summer sky; sparkling minuscule spheres of fluid build up in the corners of her eyes. Slowly, she opens her mouth and mutters “unfair… I cannot agree with that… even though I’ve been in trouble, many times I’ve been saved... Wizzy, I’m indebted… just once, you can put down your pride… Rely on me at least! You’re sick after all, and you can use a hand or two!” Even tighter, Nina squeezes me to a hug, snorting. There’s no refuting that.

“Then I may as well rely on you. Thank you, Nina.” Red-eyed, Nina sports an awkward smile, wiping her messy face with her sleeve. I can’t tell whether she’s happy or sad, but it could be that she’s both.

After the drama, I spend majority of the afternoon in my bedroom, accompanied by Nina. Thanks to her, I recover quickly throughout the day, though still a bit weak from the cold. With what little energy I have, I brief her on how to use the pocket grenades. And with sparkling eyes after having taught, she even suggests of a good method to use them by strapping them on her crossbow bolts. Pulling the trigger will launch the bolt along with the grenade, which in turn pulls out the pin whose end is affixed to the crossbow stock, igniting the fuse.

Simple thought, but ingenious. The method suits her fighting style well as she demonstrates in the backyard at sunset. The bolt hits its target and explodes, blowing its target straw man into smithereens – not even its heavily layered armor of fabrics and leather survives the blast. The ground, too, isn’t spared from the shock; the slaves and palace attendants are startled, worried of an earthquake, which makes the cover up easy, using nature as an excuse. I’m glad I agreed to let her come with us in the expedition. This newly developed weapon has a lot of potential.

Sunrise, our expedition starts. Although I can already walk, I still feel weak as I can’t even lift my killer club, thus I load it away in the wagon. Ricardo catches me in the act and blinds me with his sparkly smile and the gleaming blade of his halberd, saying “I’ve got your back, Kid!” I don’t know whether he is kidding or not, but his usual clowning looks very, very reassuring, unlike Nina’s determined look – you can see her soul burning through her eyes as if she can send a hundred men running in fright. May the River god bless us in our journey.

Mysteriously, Aria has never shown her face again since the incident nor has she even sent me away with a good bye. Whenever I think about the incident that happened a few days ago, it makes me worry a lot, thinking that her family might go after me. Julius will surely kill me for that, rather, I should be the one upset in the situation, wherein he didn’t even consult how I feel about the engagement. Disgusting, just thinking of it makes my spit taste bitter, enough that I can probably make a medicine out of the taste. Certainly, savoring it isn’t something that I must do, which makes it taste even more disgusting and a little salty too.

As I finish packing my goods with the help of Nina and Ricardo, the slaves finish their tasks too, eagerly sweating and loading the confidential cargo to the wagons. Nina, Ricardo, and I hop in a carriage driven by a professional hired by Faye. She generously invests in our cause by providing the logistics without cost, for now. Thanks to her help, we can effortlessly commence in our journey only in a short period of time, sparing us from much delay.

In the carriage, I peek outside by the window. Just with little time, we pass the northern gate and the grassy field where Freddie and I fought. Further ahead, the road looks better than I thought with a variety of colorful flowers growing by the side of the pathway. The cool early morning breeze as well complements the scenery as it gently brushes through the blades of grass and the rustling leaves of trees and bushes and greenery. The deeper we go into the forest, the thicker and wilder the vegetation grow, wherein they start to block the sun and limit the lighting available, casting a tint on the surroundings shades darker, which at the same time traps moisture and humidity that makes the atmosphere a bit harder to breathe in especially in my condition. This indicates that we’re about to reach the agreed meeting point. Soon, Freddie will join us.

The carriage suddenly halts and the inertia throws me forward, violently launching me towards Nina who by the way sits just in front of me in the carriage. Shame, there is none to cushion my skull from the shock as it rubs against her washboard ribs and slides up to her chin, which stabs my scalp sharply and painfully. I reach the sore part with my hand moistened by drippings of her fresh, warm, and rusty smelling blood; Nina’s nose bleed badly from the injury. “I’m sorry. You’re hurt!”

“Wizz… I’m okay.” Squinting from the injury, she wipes the blood away with a piece of cloth from her pocket.

For a minute, a sustained storm of clacking and thunking noises assault our carriage from above like a rain of sharp hail does a car followed by the numerous painful screeches and wails of dying men. Ricardo, Nina, and I duck for cover inside our carriage until the storm stops.

“Ouch!” Nina grimaces. As it appears, an arrow has slipped into the carriage grazing her by the shoulder, opening a nastily bleeding wound. As a first measure, she covers it with the piece of cloth that she used originally to wipe her nosebleed. Ricardo then helps her dress the wound.

As he dresses the wound, Ricardo warns, eyebrows knit “Kids, it’s an ambush. I’ll get off the carriage and provide distraction. If I couldn’t beat them, both of you, run as far as you can, deep into the forest. Don’t worry about me, I’ll catch up.” Even in the gravity of the situation, he manages to show us his determined sparkly smile.

“Idiot, you’ll die. Use these. We’ll escape together.” I hand Ricardo a few smoke grenades. He nods in agreement, looking me in the eye. He then continues his work on Nina’s, tying another piece of cloth on her wound, tightly. “Ouch!”

“Nina, take the kid. I’ll step out, draw their attention and beat the shit out of them. I’ll throw the smoke grenades in their faces if I couldn’t. As soon as it explodes, sprint!”

“Roger!” Nina replies like a good soldier do, ignoring the pain. She offers me her back for a piggy back ride, which embarrasses me for I have no choice but to accept the treatment due to my illness.

Ricardo grabs his trusty halberd and kicks the door open, busting it far, far away. He jumps out of the carriage and yells “COWARDS! Come and face the great Ricardo in the open!” He spins his halberd, wonderfully deflecting the incoming arrows with ease. Successfully, he draws in enough attention to get surrounded by numerous men not less than fifty, all armed to the teeth with rusty pitchforks, spears, and axes, wearing ragged and tattered clothes. Oddly, they hide their faces under a sack.

“HEEEIIIYAAA!” The men, several of them thrust their pitchforks towards Ricardo, who skillfully deflects the attack by swinging the heavy head of his halberd in a circular fashion, breaking their weapons. He bashes and smashes several of them aside, but manages to lure more men in for the battle. In fact, so many of them have gathered that I lose count. Against a rain of arrows, Ricardo spins his halberd to deflect them, and to his bad, the melee fighters charge in towards him simultaneously. Being a master of brawl, he utilizes his light feet to maneuver himself in the rabble like breeze would, using their bodies as shield to the arrows.

Them being far numerous for a man to handle, Ricardo still manages to knock the surrounding men away with a heavy sweeping blow from the pole. Finally, he pulls the pin on the smoke grenades and slips it underneath the feet of the unsuspecting foes, giving us the signal. The smoke bomb detonates and expands into thick walls of giant blackened clouds providing lots of cover and confusion.

Nina immediately sprints, seeing the signal, carrying me on her back deep into the forest. Twigs, leaves, and a variety of things brush against her face as she runs, lightly wounding her. The farther we go, the craggier the terrain gets and the heavier her panting goes. Sweat soaks her clothes heavily. Behind, no one seems to have noticed our getaway, yet Ricardo is nowhere to be seen.

Rain falls down lightly, providing much needed cooling and relief, but at the same time, misfortune. Abruptly, Nina slips and loses balance over a rock, falling face down in the mud. To make the complication worse, I believe that my additional weight worsens the injury. As it looks safe, I tell her to rest for a bit.

Under a tree, we sit down, leaning side by side, resting our backs against its trunk. Nina breathes heavily and sweats profusely, and her face pales while the dressing on her wounded shoulder reddens to the blood. Pain it seems, she tears up, projecting a sour expression in her face as she puts pressure on the wound.

“Take it easy, Nina. Let’s rest.”

She nods lightly, and shivering, she murmurs “Linus... I’m cold… I’m terribly cold… I’m scared… ”

I press her hands between mine, and how terribly cold they are. I figure that I could build a fire, but sense stops me, our pursuers will find us, so I have no other choice but to share my warmth. Being smaller than she is, I sit between her legs, letting her wrap her freezing arms around me from the back. Soon she quiets down and stops complaining about the cold, and soon, she loses consciousness. Following shortly, I as well fall asleep.

When I wake up to her embrace, her hands are a little pale and cold. I believe then that she’s asleep as she responds not to my little movements, so I put my hand on top of hers to provide her with more warmth, only to discover this odd stiffness.

A fly buzzes and finds itself home on my nose, giving it an itch.

Cold sweat starts to break from my forehead down to my feet; I feel nervous, really, really nervous for no apparent reason.

I tap on her hands, but without a response, so harder I try, calling her name, but she moves not a muscle. Turning around, I see her peaceful sleeping expression. My heart sinks and tears start to drip uncontrollably down my cheeks.

“NINA!” my cry steadily drowns in the sea of trees.