63Author's message:
Sorry to keep you waiting,
As I was planning out the FNC world sometime ago, I was kind of thinking that this would be a piece of cake to write, then came the things that I put in on the fly that I ended up making the storyline a bit too large. I thought I could use this chapter to show to readers what the society was like in Halkeginia from another perspective, the normal peasant's side, without the ZnT characters we know of...well you might see something close anyway. XD
I'll try to do so anyway...
And so we begin this new season with a little back-story of a certain character…sort of...
This story and the details might be offensive and depressing to those who might read it; I did my best to soften the hit by writing as little subtle of a description as possible. But this has to be shown, this world is no bed of roses like previously thought even by the author himself… which is me…XD
Dark humor will come from time to time, at least in in my P.O.V. but there are...a lot of stuff going on in there that...needs no other description to know just what it is.
You have been warned.
Zaberfang presents:
Familiars Never Cry: The Second Stage
FNC Mission 1: Brief Reminiscence
／人◕ .◕人＼
"The Tristain Academy of Magic,
A place where Nobles learn to learn, hone and perfect their mage craft and refine social etiquettes for their future lives."
So stated from an excerpt of a graduated student's journal,
But at this point, said praise could be easily thrown out the window should anyone see whatever the Academy Head is doing right now…
Osmond stands by the Office window babe watching with the use of a pair of military grade Binoculars?
And for some reason, he's got a modern switch counter in his left hand…
And he's counting really, really fast…
"That's B, those two are C… and that's…wow! a D!", he declaims
It was this scene in which Dante arrived on…
'The heck is he going about?' he wondered after closing the door,
"Hey old man…" he called out, but the old man remained focused in doing whatever he was doing.
'What is this guy looking at? Is he bird watching?' he asks himself, as he walks behind the old man for a closer look,
Only to see that the Academy Head is then observing a gaggle of the girls, students who are playing a game that appears to be an old version of lawn tennis. They're currently wearing a completely white version of sports attire of their world, consisting of a white blouse, short skirts, and very short drawers and some are actually wearing lacy panties…
And they say that the Middle Ages were a prim and proper era.
But then again, this is another world so, maybe that doesn't count…
'There's a need to reinvent bloomers and spats, RIGHT NOW…' Dante reflects, still not taking his sights of the girls at play…
Then thought that the old man might be rubbing something off to him…
"Oh he's bird watching alright, of the 'adult' kind…" he comments, as he takes a rolled map from the table…
Well, time to get back into business…
Before he acts further however, he then realized something,
'Wait. Is he talking about breast sizes?' he thought, wondering how the pervy old man knew of such terms…
Then he saw among the articles, a certain magazine with the capital 'P' on the title font.
'Oh, so that's why…' Dante reflects, reading the magazine with one hand, while his other hand holding the rolled up map swings at the target.
*WHACK*
"OUCH!"
"What the hell are you doing?" he deadpanned, with the magazine on hand.
"I'm taking measurements, recording the bust sizes in this Academy."
'This is one of a hardass pervert,' Dante thought, sighing rather resignedly, crossing his arms in light irritation,
Then, old man calmly returns to watching,
"B, C, D, C, C, D, E, D!"
Dante sighs, as he wordlessly draws Ebony.
*CLICK*
*BANG*
Dante shoots the old man with Ebony, making the bullet miss Osmond's head by mere inches,
The old man suddenly gets a flashback,
A young man sits down on the ground, breathing heavily after fighting an intense battle against the enemies ,as the man dressed in fine purple suit comes up to him, speaking something that Osmond was unable to remember, all except…
"Live to the fullest, Osmond. Live to the fullest, age to the fullest, go bald to the fullest… and die long after I do. And if possible, die with a smile." Sparda said to Young Osmond.
Then,
"Stress makes you bald, but it's stressful to avoid stress, so you end up stressed out anyway,
so in the end there's nothing you can do." Sparda adds, a rather small smile crosses his lips as he said this to the then Young Osmond…
'Seriously, what is wrong with my recollection these days?' Old Osmond wondered, as most of what he remembered Sparda said was about going bald as a man ages,
'Is he a psychic or something?' he thought, as Osmond rubs his aching head, which the hairline seems to be thinning...
End of flashback…
"Dear Founder! That was the fastest I have lost my boner," Osmond groans as he ended up sitting on the floor after a near miss by Dante.
"No 'hard' feelings?" Dante apologized while smirking, holstering the gun…
"I don't mind," Osmond hobbles back to his desk, while rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. "And thank you for coming here at such short notice."
"Don't mention it, is it a problem?"
"Well, I'm not even sure if this one is a problem, but I have something to consult to you." Old Osmond said, stooping down to take something from under his desk.
And he places an antique box on top of the desk.
What Dante noticed first is how the box looked like.
The box frame is made of high quality polished black lacquered wood, and is studded of small jewels and gold foil, shaped to a form of an incomprehensible shape…
"Well, you can open it," Osmond urged,
Still feeling a bit hesitant for some reason, Dante opens the box, revealing a mirror carefully laid within it, reflecting Dante's rather grim visage.
"It's just a mirr…" Dante tries to speak and close the box, but stopped…
For as Dante looked at reflective surface, the image suddenly changes into sees a very familiar image…the perfect rendition of his mother's face.
Just the way Dante remembered her in his childhood. She is beautiful, tall blonde woman in a red dress. Her presence exuded grace, power and kindness to those who meet her.
Well, not everyone.
Then, the images of the last day that she was alive came to his memories.
Two figures can be seen in the darkness as the larger figure pushed the small figure into a hidden room. A storm rages outside their home as the wind howled, so much that it sounded like a cacophony of people wailing.
But it was not only the wind that could be heard howling…
There was a loud banging on the walls of mortar; it is as if some large, powerful creature seeks to invade the space within,
"Dante, no matter what you hear. Do not come out, do you hear me?"
The white haired child of eight nodded, as he shook like a leaf in fright.
"Whatever happens, remember that I will always love you, and your brother…"
The mother hugs the child.
Very tightly.
"Mom, you're hurting me."
The woman's hold relaxed, as she wiped tears from the boy's eyes as well as his face.
There was no one to protect them,
Where is his father? It has been long since he was home, so much that he actually nearly forgot what he looked like in person. Only through portraits and the stories his mother told him was he able to know what his father, the Dark Knight Sparda.
No matter how people said that Sparda had abandoned his family, Dante childishly kept the faith that he will return. He was hoping that his father will return this night, to save what remained of his family.
Like the hero that he was portrayed by his mother's stories.
'He will come,' the child wilfully wished,
Vergil was already gone.
Only two of them are left, the mother and the youngest child.
Monsters stalked and banged on the walls, doors and windows.
So far, they have not been able to come in, due to the magical wards that his mother, Eva, a powerful Umbra witch on her own right, had wrought.
"I love you." She smiled serenely, as the loud banging from the outside grew louder.
Eva pushed the child back forcefully, slamming the heavy mortar door, completely hiding her last treasure.
"Stay, safe." She whispered into the wind, hoping that her silent prayer will be heard by whoever controls Fate, drawing copies of her signature guns, Luce and Umbra.
*CLICK*
*CRASH*
Then came the thundering of his mother's guns…
That ends Dante's remembering that terrible day, as he slams his palm to the desk top, sending the box flying into the air.
"THE BOX!"
Dante, as quick as he his, instantly caught the boxed mirror with his right hand.
"What just happened?" Old Osmond asked,
"I was wondering about that myself," wondering to how this antique mirror, managed to get his near-forgotten childhood memories back into life.
／人◕ .◕人＼
Meanwhile, somewhere outside the Academy grounds, a cloaked figure bearing the sign of the reverse Roman Symbol of Gemini holds a glowing red orb in its hands…
"Ku ku ku ku, so the game begins…" it's low keyed voice laughed, as it looked intensely at the glowing orb with glee…
／人◕ .◕人＼
Back to the Academy Head's Office….
"Okay, what is this supposed to be?"
"It's something left by Sparda for as a gift to his wife Eve, I believe. So I think that these should belong to you."
As Dante looked inside the box…he saw something else other than the antique mirror…
A reflection of someone's life...
Mission 0.5 : The Executioner's Heart
(An FNC Sidestory)
／人◕ .◕人＼
Fantasy Pic: An executioner's hood and cloak, in blue, hangs by the noose of a thick rope, beside it is a gigantic, single edged, Zweihander, shaped like a giant pointed meat cleaver, with it's blunt side looking a bit too flesh colored to be made of steel… a shadow is cast on a blank wall as the androgynous figure reaches out for the hood…
／人◕ .◕人＼
Sometime in the past, way before the legendary snow-haired, crimson-coated warrior of Tristain will arrive, the year is not to be revealed…
A cloaked figure strides sombrely through the streets, with one gloved hand holding a thick chain. And at the end of the chain is a manacle clamped at the neck of a young girl.
Wearing nothing more than coarse sackcloth and with her hair clumsily cut short, in order for the executioner to have better access to the neck when dealing the final blow. Since during the last few days, many of the other beheaders, kind of failed in cutting off their victims' heads off in one stroke, making the task even more gruesome and bloodier looking than it should have been. She was pulled along rather roughly by the cloaked man.
What's so special about this execution you ask? This is due to the fact that this particular slayer/beheader has the most unmatched record of giving the cleanest and neatest beheadings that the people of this particular kingdom have seen.
One stroke is all he needed to finish the job, and he never fails to deliver.
Ever.
The scene is rather discomforting to anyone who see this strange train composed of an androgynous figure whose cloak completely hid his entirety making his identity a mystery, pulling along the fettered young lady as a prisoner and the hog-like man whose badge pinned to his left chest indicates him to be a low ranking sheriff trailing behind the two with a proud smile plastered to his face.
As if he will be doing the killing himself,
Though the fact remains, townspeople knew that the sheriff is a well-known sissy.
"Today's execution will be this girl's!" the town crier announced, indicating the bound girl,
Whispers began to pass around, each of them wondering what did the girl as young as she is to deserve this kind of punishment.
"Whatever did she do to deserve this?"
"She is a dirty prostitute who copulated with twenty married men!" the crier announces not minding the confused stares from the crowd as he announced the girl's so-called crimes,
Another stupid lie, most of the mob thought, knowing the ruling Nobles as they are, this one has been falsely accused. But then what can they do? They barely had the means to survive in their everyday dealing with their wretched lives as peasants serving the Fiefdom, where any wrong move could cause them to either lose their job, whatever little that they may own, or even their very lives, as shown with the young lady whose head is soon to be placed under the chopping block.
Sooner as the crier spoke of the accusation thus, shouts coming from the mob began to say,
"KILL THE WHORE!" someone shouts,
A paid crowd stirrer.
It didn't take long before the entire mob ended up shouting,
"KILL HER! KILL HER! KILL HER!"
To those who is currently witnessing this grim parade, the girl is about to be executed by beheading, which will be performed by the blue cloaked figure holding the other end of her chain., whose title now were said be the name of the original and first executioner of this kingdom,
Cobalt.
"Hey, hasn't there been a lot of beheadings lately?" a random peasant asks another on looking man, who seems to be a blacksmith, who replied,
"Yeah, the last weeks there were ten executions held. Most of them are sent off by Cobalt." He indicated the figure in blue pulling the prisoner.
"Oh right, this guy never ceases to amaze me. I mean, I have seen those executions; all of his victims are done in just one swing. A clean cut, every time…"
"Looks like we'll be seeing another show then?"
The blacksmith shrugs, and gestures silence and resumes to watch the group reach the center of the town square, where the stage where the prisoner is to be beheaded.
Cobalt is a mystery figure to this particular place, as he is the only thing constant in this place of inevitable change, as the old give way to the young.
It was said that the first person who was called himself Cobalt came to this kingdom, he was brought by the ruling Nobles of that time, for some 600 years ago, to work under them as the official executioner. With his unparalleled skill in killing any target the Nobles indicate, in any method of killing they order him to perform. The said persona became the kingdom's Executioner Supreme, as time passed. Until such time that the name became a title of sorts passed from one generation to the next.
Or so they say,
The strange thing to the populace and the later generation of Nobles, nobody ever saw who the man behind the iron mask is, as he was never seen in public without it and he always wearing his voluminous bright blue hooded cloak, lending to his name/title. With his cold, calculating gaze from the black eyes beneath the mask's eye slits, the only emotion that one could ever evoke from his person, ever since they could remember, nobody ever got close to him.
Nobody that were not killed seconds later,
As generations of rulers come and go, only the Master Executioner Cobalt remained almost the same, as he looked years before, the androgynous bright blue cloaked figure who kills with unerring precision. It is said that the current one is the 60th generation who inherited the title. Where the old Cobalts that came before him went, no one knows. Due to the mystery surrounding the man, many rumors rose, whispered among the pubs, homes and any other establishment where people gather talk about the mysterious executioner.
"Some say that Cobalt came from a group of assassins from Rub' Al Khali, and is masked because he has a freakishly hideous appearance," one onlooker whispered to the man beside him,
The fettered young woman was forced to kneel by the prison guards, as another covers her eyes with a blindfold, a small act of mercy for her, so as to not to see her impending doom outright.
Though the fact remains that she's still going to die,
A twisted version of a saying, "if you don't know or see it, it can't hurt you." Or something along the lines of such.
"No way, from what I heard, Cobalt was masked because he is so frightening that he might be described to be a half-troll." The other replied,
"Some say that the executioner is an elf, who was enslaved by the Nobles into servitude." A grimy innkeeper spoke in a low voice, stealing a glance at the blue cloaked executioner,
"But there is one story that said, he is actually a demon bound to servitude to the ruling Nobles." A harsh, hissing voice whispered to the gossiping group, silencing them all.
The subject on demons, are a frightening thing to just randomly talk about. Even for the uneducated charlatans that they are, they knew that it is a dangerous subject.
What also added to their fright is that there is no one present when they turned around to see who just spoke behind them. Suddenly, the heavy feeling of something present assaults their senses. Only their ignorance kept them from realizing just exactly are they feeling.
There are times that stupidity can be a great thing, sparing the fools from actually knowing that terrible things actually exist with them in this world.
And is now currently among them.
Tensely, the group broke off and went mingling with the crowd, just to get away from that otherworldly presence…and just watch the execution unfold…
On the subject of Cobalt, he remained tight-lipped to anyone who asked of his origins, and the reason for his current work. The only thing he says is,
"I am here, I am alive, and I kill as commanded. That is all that is important."
In an accent of speech that seems to be not of this world.
／人◕ .◕人＼
Let's turn back the clock a few hours or so back, just because I said so.
The night before the execution, Cobalt spent his time on rooftops, keeping himself out of sight as he always did for only God knows how long. Taking notes and observing the activities and lives of the peasants in the wee hours of the night, for reasons, even he does not understand.
He has seen a lot of things occur in the street, that the Nobles on the top, has no idea of.
The dingy state of the peasantry, their homes, their food, and even their lives are never noticed by the ones at the higher hierarchy. They just don't give a damn, as long as the peasants work, and provide the necessities the Nobles would need. Food for their mouths, wine for their gullets, fine clothing, and finally gold and other precious items to line their pockets to name a few.
But then again there are other things…darker things that some of the so-called Nobles of the society require of the helpless peasants…
What a selfish world this place is.
Maybe that's the reason that there are times great plagues, and other natural calamities occur in many places as of late, so much that even the magic that the Nobles wielded over the powerless peasants were no match to.
Observing the plebians in their natural habitat is the reprieve he has in the long time he served in this place…
What Cobalt is doing is similar to a naturalist observing animals in the wild.
Clutching the locket with a small portrait of a pink-haired woman, in a red sundress, whose name he may have or have not known, but his feelings toward her is something akin to what most people said to be love…
Well, as he had observed from folks he's been around with for years, without their prior knowledge.
As far as he remembered, he never felt any emotions at all, just emptiness and a sense of loss, though he has no idea what could it be which he lost…
Shrugging the seemingly unfamiliar thoughts to the winds, Cobalt once more hides the locket…
It's about time to see the latest one to be put on the chopping board…
At the reception hall to the dungeons, the pudgy hog-sheriff is sifting through piles of documents…
So much to do, so little time, and the compensation is rather lousy… but this is a job he intends to stick to.
Well, until he gets promoted anyway…
As if by chance, the sheriff glances at the closed door, to see the blue cloaked figure silently standing there, waiting for orders.
"Would you please stop doing that? It scares me." The sheriff berated aloud, clutching his heart due to the surprise.
'Dammit, he moves like a ghost…How the Founder does he do that?'
"Why thank you. As requested, I'm here for the measurement of the prisoner's neck." Cobalt coldly replied, his unseen eyes, scanning the sheriff, giving off the feeling to the pudgy Noble an impression that he's facing an ancient alien creature, staring deeply into his soul…
Swallowing his saliva, the sheriff actually took courage and hands a ring of keys to Cobalt, who looked at the keys, then to the Noble.
"Alright, as you can see, I'm rather busy, you go and do it." The sheriff orders, using all the courage he could muster, hanging on to his rank for dear life as he orders this monster of a man to do what he's supposed to be doing...
"As you wish…" the executioner in blue said, walking or rather, stalking off down into the dungeons…
'Just what is he?' the sheriff asks himself.
As if his subconscious would know…
／人◕ .◕人＼
Walking down the stone winding stairs, Cobalt casually walks down, with a torch in one hand, though he actually has no need for it.
It seems that he can see in the dark for some reason, but carried torches whenever he navigates the dungeons for formality.
He doesn't want any unnecessary kills among the bastards roaming around the darkness of the prison that he might have the unfortunate time to meet with…
／人◕ .◕人＼
Various sounds can be heard throughout the dungeon,
The crying of sadness, despair, fear and a lot of other emotions washed all over Cobalt's sharp senses like a wave. By this time, he's pretty much used to the atmosphere of this place.
But among the sounds, there's something that caught his interest,
"SHUT UP!" a gruff man's voice growled,
"Mmmff.."
"STOP CRYING SO MUCH" the man said again,
"….."
"Quit, Struggling. We're gonna give you a good time before you leave this world." Another man's voice chimed, sounding a lot more lewd,
Muffled cries can be heard in response to the taunts.
"Heh, heh, heh, You should be grateful we're even doing this for you." The first voice panted, he seems to be doing something that exerts him,
"Are you sure were supposed to do this to a prisoner?" a young man's voice nervously asked,
"If you're not gonna join us, then just stand over there and shut up." The second voice retorts,
Sounds of shuffling feet can be heard,
As he approached closer to his destination, Cobalt hears another sound even more clearly this time confirming his suspicions,
Cries that plead,
Cries that denote despair and helplessness,
Cries that could send a lot of questions rushing to anyone who is not familiar with the society at large.
Cries that belong to a young girl's…
'What is a girl doing in a place like this?' Cobalt wondered, as he noiselessly glided through the dungeon halls…
He's the one to ask, though he knew that there are instances that these things happen.
"Oh come on lass, don't give me that 'I don't want to do this,' line. You are a whore, I know you like this." A familiar raspy voice of a prison guard rang in the silence of the dungeons, followed by unmistakable sounds of a body, no, bodies slapping wetly against another.
Then came the whimpers of the girl, then as if something was shoved down her mouth, the whimpers turned to muffled cries as the sounds of abuse rang through the dungeon…Cobalt has seen and heard these scenes over and over again lately in the dungeons.
But this is not the place to incarcerate the females. But Nobles, including their dogs, can bend the rules, as long as the reigning monarchy won't notice.
Ah, the loopholes of this society is glaringly visible, as one might reflect on things.
Cobalt felt something deep within him ignite. Something rather alien to him, making him feel like just rushing in there and do something. But as a professional killer that he currently is, he respected the freedom of his…co-workers…
'Strange. I've been seeing these things all my life. Yet for some reason, this particular event affects me?' the blue executor thought, approaching the source of the indecent noises…
It doesn't take an experienced man to know what is going on…
To those who haven't seen or heard personally on what is being described, please don't ask further, or risk broken innocence. XD
Besides, it's too embarrassing to bluntly state.
The moans of men can now be heard Cobalt glides even closer, covering what was left of the cries of the tormented girl,
'Men and their lusts. Can't these guys do stuff like this after work?' Cobalt thought, ironically being a man himself (or is he even human?) with his left metal gloved hand unconsciously clenched into a fist, as it slightly glowed in a weak, soft blue light, then paused as he wondered where that train of thought came from, as he waited for them to stop… as it seemed that the sounds he was currently hearing come from the cell that's his supposed destination,
'It has nothing to do with me.'
'But I must do something' a voice from within him screamed at the brooding cloaked figure…
And for some reason, the voice was his.
Yet, he adhered to what he believed to be right, and so he waited,
And waited.
The moans gradually make way into pants of exhaustion,
The girl continued to sob softly, seemingly exhausted as well.
／人◕ .◕人＼
After a while, three prison guards leave that cell,
"That was a rather good lay, wasn't it?" the tall, swarthy man said, clapping a hand into the guard right next to him, a pudgy middle-aged, pig faced man
"Aye, too bad this is the last time we're gonna do her though." The other guard said,
"No matter, there are still others…"
"B-but, is it right of you guys to do that? I mean..." the third guard nervously asked, a blonde new recruit, but the rest of his statement was suddenly choked… as he felt something brush against him.
"W-who goes there?" the panicked guard challenged, feeling a cold presence in their immediate vicinity, drawing his sword, as the torchlight revealed a blue cloaked figure right in front of them, silently standing there, watching them like a malevolent cloaked gargoyle.
"Relax newbie, that's Cobalt, " the pig-faced guard soothed the young man, then suddenly pushing the young guard stumbling closer to the executioner's scrutiny,
He's young, possibly a Noble fresh out from his education. With the way he wore his helm, strands of fine yet messy blonde hair spilled forth, further telling him of the boy's lineage, with the way he wore the chain mail looking a bit loose, telling the executioner that this one is still a greenhorn. The young guard clumsily introduced himself,
"Um, I'm L'amour la de Gramont," the handsome young guard nervously stretched a hand,
'Polite too, this boy will be going places, that'll do for now. If he ever manages to survive this place, that is…'
Cobalt gives a silent nod and proceeds to pass through the silenced guards, leaving the young guard agape at the action,
Seconds later the newbie then said as he stared at the Cobalt as he disappeared into the cell,
"Looks like he approves of you," the first guard comments, clapping a congratulatory hand to the young man's shoulder,
"Just what is that man? I can't even feel his presence." De Gramont asked,
"It's just how he is kid, you'll get used to it." The old guards simultaneously assured him,
／人◕ .◕人＼
In this business of beheading people, sending people off to the afterlife, one has to think twice of interacting with people like him. It is a position in society that requires one to avoid the eyes of the people and walk, or rather stalk in the shadows.
Just the way he liked it.
Cobalt is now in front of the barred cell. As he looked for the correct key to the bars, he could hear the soft sobbing coming from the darkness of the room.
'So I'll be slaying this one huh?' he thought,
Cobalt in his entire tenure in this job has killed many people, of either gender, in a lot of unmentionable ways. But recently, they have been satisfied by just beheading them.
Not that he cared anyway; he just did what he was told,
Just like a dog waiting for his master to order it to go fetch his slippers or something,
With his enhanced vision, Cobalt could see a rather small figure curled up in a ball in the corner.
The figure in the darkness stirred and quickly sits up as she sensed his presence, along with the light from his torch.
"Wh-who are you!?" she demands, as she tries to cover up herself with her arms and hands with varying level of success.
The girl seems be hardly out of her teens, judging from her body size and face. The longer he looked at the girl, the more he thought of her as quite a lovely sight with the curves just right in the correct places. Should the circumstances were kinder to her; she might have looked like such that one would say that she's a Noble of descent.
But then again, it is a cruel world out there. With the Black plague menacing the countryside sometime ago, the severe droughts, followed by the bitter winters. Even just getting through the day unscathed is a challenge for the peasantry. One could say; this might be one of those times what knowledgeable people would call the Dark Ages. But Cobalt could wonder, why is he thinking of things like thiese? Is it because the one that he'll be killing the following morning is a young girl? Is it the bright almond shaped eyes of amber of hers, or the flowing strawberry blonde hair, and the rather diminutive stature of this person that made him thinking of other things than who will he be killing the next time.
For the first time in his recent memory, Cobalt was confused. Taking a deep breath of the dank prison air, without allowing the frightened girl to notice, and said,
"I'm the executioner," Cobalt announced in a voice devoid of emotion, "I was chosen to take off your head tomorrow."
'Time to get to work.' The assassin thought, as he walked closer to the girl, who showed absolutely no fear from his advance, and just remained on her knees as she waited for her would-be-killer the following morning.
Either she has nerves of steel developed from a long time of receiving abuse, or she's just resigned to her fate. Cobalt couldn't help but be slightly amazed at the way she stayed still, considering that she's practically naked, as the day she was unfortunately born in to this cruel world.
Taking out a calliper (a measuring device), a quill and parchment, Cobalt proceeds to do what he's here for. To measure the neck of the one he'll be killing by the morning. Though to b honest, Cobalt doesn't need to do so, as he can easily cut off the head of the most thick-necked man in the kingdom with just one stroke of his cleaver, a gigantic blade that only he can wield with such finesse and power, the likes the kingdom has never seen before. So he's doing this out of habit and for the recording. Not to mention, to make sure that the prisoner is still in prison the night before the beheading of the condemned.
"..."
／人◕ .◕人＼
He has seen a lot of prisoners in his time, so he has experienced and seen first hand the different emotions from ones who knew that they're be living their last day on this world. Anger, rage, sadness, despair, and resignation to mention some of them, and a few of them have gone mad at the realization of their impending doom. But some reason, this one is surprisingly calm for girl as young as she is.
Reminds him of himself after having experienced something that shook his soul, but then again, he still wondered, what it was. He just can't remember.
"You can let it down now." Cobalt said, after jotting the measurements on to the parchment.
What surprised him is the tone of his voice; it seemed to project, for lack of better word,
Emotion.
Though it looked like that the girl didn't notice it.
After a closer look at the girl, Cobalt thought, 'Looks like her bone is a lot more sturdy than I thought it was. Not that it can stop me from performing the usual.'
Then he proceeds to do the next task as he thought absently, 'She might have had a better upbringing than most of these people have guessed.'
Then he heard the girl sobbing softly, though he made no effort to turn around from where he crouched, holding a wash cloth and putting it into a nearby wooden bucket of water…
"I'm really am about to die, right…?" she finally spoke after a while, as tears began to flow from her eyes, Cobalt remained silent as he ponderously washed the cloth for some reason.
And so began her emotions come pouring out, "I knew it. I did a lot of bad things. But… but…"
Before she could speak further, Cobalt finally spoke, this time in a voice he never thought he'll be using, an honest, and heartfelt gentle voice, "It is said that if you receive your punishment wholeheartedly, your sins will be forgiven."
Surprisingly, as the executioner said that, he was carefully wiping the tears and dirt from the girl's stained face. For a killer to do these things is really strange…
" D-do you believe it?" she girl asked, feeling the cool wet fabric caress her face, giving a slight feel of comfort in this place of utter despair.
The hooded executioner shrugged beneath the folds of his cloak, as he returned the cloth to the bucket to wash it again, "Who knows, but it's a rather comforting thought isn't it?"
The girl smiled slightly in all while, "You're right."
Cobalt hasn't been talking to anyone this much in years, and he's wondering why is he opening up to a person that he's about to kill the following day. Well, slightly opening up, like a small crack at the window.
Must be due to that they might have experienced similar situations…Maybe…
"But I believe there is a better place than this." Cobalt said as he wiped the girl's face clean with the wet washcloth, "You'll be going to that place, a few hours from now. We'll at least get you cleaned up, or they'll chase you out, if you ever go there in your dirty state.
True enough, after what she had just gone through just moments ago, she really has gotten dirty. No Pun intended.
A moment of silence passed by before the girl asked the blue cloaked man, "You mean, I can become clean too?"
An earnest nod answered her question, and that was enough for her…
In the few minutes, Cobalt was diligently cleaning her whole naked body, with such care and gentleness, making her feel like her soul is being cleaned along with her physical person.
I do mean everything.
"Hee hee hee," the girl giggles, making Cobalt look up from his task,
"What is it?" he quizzically asked,
"With the way you treat me, I feel like a princess."
Cobalt sighs, as the girl began to make play around, much like a person of high regard,
"Thou hast pleased me." She giggled,
Seriously, Ye Olde Englishe,
"Do stop moving about," Cobalt pleas, as he takes hold of the arm of the girl.
Now that he has nearly finished cleaning the girl, he once again proved himself that he's right as he looked at the prisoner after his diligent, uh, care…
She is lovely.
Any arguments to say otherwise by anyone ARE invalid.
／人◕ .◕人＼
"This might be the first time I've been treated so gently…" the girl finally said, as she sat on a clean sheet provided by Cobalt, as she had her back on the cold dungeon wall.
But for some reason, she doesn't feel the cruelness of the place which she felt before…
Maybe it's because of this man hidden beneath the voluminous folds of blue cloak has shown her that there are still some people that care…
Cobalt on the other hand has been wondering what the heck he has been doing…
Usually, after taking measurements, he quickly takes his leave, leaving the prisoner alone until he returns to take them to the town square to be executed.
'Strange, indeed…' the blue executioner thought, as he cleaned the wash cloth, planning to leave afterwards…
"I'm just doing my job." Cobalt admonished the praise,
Just as he was about to leave, Cobalt felt a slight weight on his back, as the girl hugs him from behind,
"You know, if I met someone like you sooner I might have…" she said as she pressed herself closer to Cobalt's rather small, androgynous yet powerful body.
"Please, stay with me for the night…"
"…" the assassin / executioner is at a loss for words as she asked him something that he would never expect for a girl to say to a person such as him.
／人◕ .◕人＼
And so Cobalt ended up sleeping with her, (Not that kind, you perverted fools!) with her small naked fragile body comfortably snuggled within the folds of his bright blue cloak, with her hugging him tight. As she told him the circumstances that led her to the chopping block,
It is a story of a certain girl who had been the object of a certain high ranking person's lust. Being forcibly taken away from her home, her family, and everything that she was familiar to and finally, a series of mind breaking events and things leading the girl into the most hellish life she had ever experienced. To the point that the story got so twisted that it became with her as the one in the wrong.
There's no need to elaborate, in respect to her situation and her impending end.
／人◕ .◕人＼
Morning came…
"I have a favour to ask of you…" the girl asked, as Cobalt took the moment to cut off her hair with a sharp knife, so as not to be of hindrance to the cut he'll be doing…
Odd as this scene is, Cobalt kept wondering if this person within him is making him do this.
Is this caring person, his true face?
"Tell me what it is." Cobalt replied,
"Please cut my neck off with one swing. I don't want to suffer anymore."
"…"
"Please?"
A curt nod was his reply to the request.
It's time to get this done, as the executioner resurfaces.
／人◕ .◕人＼
Fast forward a few hours later…the town's square.
The important characters have gathered in the center of the stage, as the crowd of peasants, and other citizens gathered around. Another life will be taken in the name of the so-called-justice. Another name for the ruling class' way of dealing with people who either get in their way, or refuse to bow down to their whims.
To the onlookers, they wonder what this ridiculously young girl did for her to go under the blade.
No matter what the accusation is, one could easily see that there has to be some mistake.
But no one has the courage to speak out.
Obviously, they know that if they did, they might find themselves lining up to have their heads cut off by the blue executioner himself.
Then suddenly, the normally statuesque cloaked man did the unthinkable.
He actually took the time to walk to face the prisoner,
The job of an executioner is to guide tainted souls to a better place,
Which is one of the reasons, he took on this task as he waited for the winds of fate to change…
Maybe to wash away his own past sins as well.
What the executioner said to the girl, we will not reveal.
The girl replied to him, "Don't be silly. I'd rather die…"
"Very well," Cobalt said, as he takes the strangely designed, single bladed Zweihander from the weapon rack. That is shaped very much like a meat cleaver, which is twice larger than him; a killing tool which only he can wield with incredible ease. This is the blue executioner's favourite killing tool, the thing that he has been using that enabled him to perform all of his decapitations with absolute precision. But there is something about the weapon sends the chills to those who behold it. It is as if one is staring at a living creature, ready to pounce and maim them, within a moments notice….
Without another word, the blue cloaked beheader strikes.
He hears the girl whisper something before the blade connects…
Then,
A blindfolded head rolls…to the waiting basket.
And innocent blood has been spilled.
He had no choice in the matter as he is duty bound to the fiefdom; unless someone tells him stop his tenure.
Then the realization struck him, someone actually did.
"I love thee, so please be free." Were the last words she spoke, before the blade instantly cut off her life.
／人◕ .◕人＼
Those words were enough for Cobalt to finally end his long term of service to this kingdom.
With a hefty amount of money secured in a satchel to get him underway, he starts to hit the road.
He suddenly stops in the middle of the road, looking as if he forgot something,
Then, he slowly removed the mask that kept him bound to servitude as the hound of that particular kingdom, revealing a young man's face that looked nothing like the rest of the people in Halkeginia…
Except maybe some people who live in Tarbes…
The man shakes his head with his black hair waving freely with the warm breeze, now free from the confines of the iron mask, breathed deeply, as he threw the mask up into the air, and with a gesture of his hands, numerous ethereal blades suddenly appeared and practically destroyed the symbol of his tenure to bits of powdery metal.
He's now prepared to leave this kingdom.
But not after he paid a little visit to a certain marquis who caused a life of suffering to the only person who he ever got close in just one night, in all these years he stayed there,
／人◕ .◕人＼
A few hours later,
"They'll be having a hard time finding every part of his body that I carefully strewn throughout the city." He said to himself, balancing the gigantic cleaver, covered with an extremely thick cloth to conceal what it was now.
'They should be at least be grateful that you actually left the head intact, and beautifully skewered in the square for the whole town to see and know who it is. And after what you did, they'll certainly think twice before following you.' A telepathic voice spoke to him, in a voice that is clearly dripping with malice.
'I like your style partner. And it looks like this is the beginning of a beautiful partnership.' The harsh voice continued while it laughed demonically,
The said voice is coming from the gigantic sword.
An awakened Devil Arm, now active due to the innocent blood that it consumed.
From the girl Cobalt has executed the day before.
Meet Dainsleif, the demonic sword who grants its chosen master infinite possibility for torture, maiming and of course, murder.
It seemed that Cobalt's master's plan had worked with the blood of the girl, the magical seals placed on the cursed blade is now broken; now he has the weapon he needs to fulfil his mission.
Whatever his mission is, he is hell-bent to see it through to the end.
Cobalt remained silent as he walked forwards, with a new found, something…
"Cobalt, it is time for you to return to us…the time is nigh to reform the ranks." another voice summons Cobalt, as the billow of unnaturally colored smoke approaches the cloaked former executioner, this particular voice however, unlike the cursed blade's, carries an authority so absolute that a lesser man would go down to his knees in fear and respect.
"By your will, I shall follow." Cobalt coldly replies, casting once more what small shade of humanity that he might have gained the night before. He won't be needing it, wherever it is he will be going. Resuming his assassin persona, Cobalt prepares to finally depart.
'This world needs to be recreated, and I will make sure of it, and then I shall see her once again.' Cobalt thought as he disappears into the ether.
"My Dearest Louise…please wait for me." The lingering voice whispered, as the sun goes down in the horizon.
As the time of reckoning for the world called Halkeginia will be arriving soon.
(Curtain closes)
／人◕ .◕人＼
Author's corner:
By this time with the clues I placed here will enable you guys to discern who this guy is...
Or is this a rather confusing thing again?
Then again, is this guy really who you think he is?
If you managed to read this far, thanks a bunch.
This is a rather dark setting for my liking as well. But it must be told…
Don't you guys worry though, I will shift back to regular humor as I try to sort through the mess I have with my life…
Been a while, I still haven't found my luck on the job seeking, so I passed the time reading various books from the stuff I collected all these years, and what do you know? I managed t find one of my all-time fave collecton of stories of Conan of Cimmeria, written by the coolest author I have read on fantasy, adventure and horror. Mr. Robert E. Howard, and actually draw inspiration from him as I wrote this little side story, as a sort of homage to writers like him. XD
Like it or hate it, there's no pleasing all of the people so, I just do what I do and have fun with it.
If you like this, read on. If not, FLOCK OFF! XD
Zaberfang signing off…for now at least… XD
See you next chapter,
Anyone who can guess what the next chapter is about would be?
Coz I sure don't. XD
I'm open for any suggestions, just PM me... XD
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