Chapter One: Ascension
Act One: Enter Ryoku
In the eyes of Caryl Cerone we are in
the Fallen Unicorn Inn, Bytold; in the world of Harohto.
It is late evening
in the Autumn, the 3rd of November
of the year 2017.
Scene One: An Unlikely Visitor
The ring of a small bell barely ascended over the shout and clamor of the tavern, the light of the setting sun piercing the doorway as a young boy boy entered. A few glances were directed his way, barely interested. His locks of wavy blond hair caught the otherworldly sunlight of late evening. Friendly green eyes scanned the area a little nervously before he caught my eye.
“Welcome ter the Fallen Unicorn, traveler.” I greeted him, taking in the boy’s appearance. Were one to look at only how he dressed, he was unremarkable. He wore a baggy long-sleeved brown shirt, the sleeves pushed up to his elbows, a lace collar only partially done up. His arms were covered in bandages, his hands bearing black gloves. A small rucksack was slung over one shoulder, the glint of a brown-handled knife caught the light at his belt. Black cargo pants were tucked into heavy brown boots. He seemed a bit too young to be here for the ale, so he must seek lodging. He took a quick glance behind him and seemed surprised, as though he had someone with him who ducked out at the last moment.
When his attention returned, he reflected my smile a little awkwardly, but it lightened up a fair face. He approached with little hesitation, offering me his hand. When I accepted, he shook firmly, but not with a crushing grip.
“My name is Ryoku Dragontalen,” the boy introduced himself. “I am a Defender, seeking a room for the night.” His quiet words fell upon a few ears behind him, rendering them silent to look his way. He didn’t appear to notice.
“Caryl Cerone, daughter o’ the local blacksmith,” I told him in equal favor. “A Defender, ya say? Don’t see many of yer folk around these parts. Not so far from the capital.”
He appeared genuinely surprised. “That is news. Unfortunately, I will be off to the capital soon.”
I couldn’t help feeling a little disappointed. The boy was attractive for his age, and friendly. Giving myself a mental slap, I went to grab a room key. Plenty empty rooms at this time of year, unfortunately, so I picked out one of the more desirable room keys. “Six gold coins, friend,” I told him with a bit of a sigh. As he began to fumble with a gold satchel at his belt, a few chairs were pushed back as the patrons of a nearby table stood.
“Puny gold satchel for a Defender, me thinks,” one of the men piped up. Ryoku’s head inclined toward the approaching men, but he did not establish eye contact. I glared at them in warning, but the men didn’t back down. “Probably got more in that bag, eh?”
Still not meeting their eyes, Ryoku’s head lifted a little. “Not unless you’re interested in a sleeping roll and some dry bread, friends.”
The one who’d spoken retracted slightly, surprised to hear the boy talk back. I, myself, had to cringe. Defender or not, he wasn’t smart to retort to a group of men at a bar who were obviously looking for a fight.
“Got a witty head on those shoulders, kid?” the man demanded. He lunged forward and grabbed him by the shoulder. Ryoku’s brows raised, but he still didn’t turn around. He glanced at me for a moment, almost as though in apology, then his glance flashed to his knife. “I’ve half a mind to knock some sense into ye. Who d’ya think you’re talkin’ back to?”
“I would know, were I given a name,” Ryoku replied idly. That was all it took. The man who held his shoulder tightened his grip, yanking the boy away from the bar table. Another of his guys stepped up with a raised fist, aiming for the back of Ryoku’s head. He ducked beneath the strike, the wind of it ruffling his hair, and sidestepped around the man with startling speed. The man’s fist struck the counter with a dull thud, inciting a bout of curses from the drunk as he drew it back. I noticed two strange things about the boy in the heat of the moment: for one, he had elven ears. Not the kind I sometimes saw in summers, ones as long as daggers, but shorter, small enough that only the sharp tips stuck out beneath his golden hair. And the second thing… well, I wasn’t even sure if I saw it. It was likely I was imagining things, glorifying this pretty young Defender who came to our small, backwater village for seemingly little reason. But I swore, when he stepped around the thug and turned on his heel, something glinted under the bandages spanning his arm.
“Ruddy brat!” the man who’d struck the counter swore, reeling about to face Ryoku again. The spry Defender sidled between the four or five men who’d gathered about. One of them grabbed him by the arm, and he lashed out with a quick draw of his knife. One of the men’s big hands snatched his wrist, applying enough force to send the small knife clattering to the ground. Ryoku’s eyes widened in alarm. I knew already that he was in over his head, but he’d only just seem to come to that conclusion. Another man grabbed his other arm. He wriggled like a fish out of water, struggling to free himself from the two men holding him captive. I swallowed hard as the first man, the one who’d first called him out, sauntered toward him. It was times like this that I despised being the only one on shift, a young girl of sixteen who could do naught when these men got riled up.
“Your lot aren’t so great,” the man slurred his words, closing in on Ryoku like a predator. “Defenders.” He spat on the ground, not caring in the slightest where he was. The whole inn was fixated on this fight now. “You swoop in from Creator knows where, expecting the common folk ter kiss the ground where you walk. Well, looky here. I caught me one of those stupid Defenders. And I’m gonna spread my message.”
He raised his fist. Ryoku flinched away, his blond hair casting across his luminescent eyes. I cringed away just as much as he did. I liked this boy, and here he was, being manhandled by a group of rowdy drunks because he uttered the word ‘Defender’. The next thing I heard was a loud crack, bouncing off all the walls of the small tavern. I expected to hear Ryoku’s cry as the man struck him, but a different sound followed. Confused, I glanced up.
The drunkard hit the floor hard on his side, emitting a pained cry from whatever had hit him. Someone appeared in their midst. A young man, towering well over the head of the Defender and nearing the height of the crowd of men. It was with a jolt in my heart that I recognized him. He was a member of a mercenary party currently staying in the village, having come from some distant land in search of venture. He dressed in a foreign green tunic that reached just past his knees with slits down the side, fastened at his hip with a leather belt and over dark tan pants. He had an average build compared to the muscular thugs who frequented my bar, and formidable for someone of his age. His tanned face still shone with handsome youth, probably around the age of eighteen or so. His eyes were the brilliant blue of sapphires beneath tousled brown hair, tumbling in waves from beneath a rounded steel cap upon his head. Atop his tunic, it seemed customary for his people to only don a single steel shoulder-guard, fastened by a leather baldric to half a breastplate on his opposite side. It seemed their armor and tunic colorations had to do with their rank, and I gathered that this boy was a median. A wooden-handled lance hung over his shoulder with the steel barb covered with a cloth, and a rounded steel blade sat upon the back of his belt.
I couldn’t hide my grin as Ryoku’s jaw dropped in shock. His savior was a soldier, a bonified outdoorsman in steel to protect the Defender who had so little. His name was Will Ramun, a traveler as well who claimed to be from some distant kingdom called Syaoto. He had arrived a few months ago with a small platoon of fellow soldiers, who took it upon themselves to camp in the Old Forest and guide villagers through its thick overgrowth. They took the bounties and hunted strange monsters within those woods to ensure the safety of our village. For what reason they had chosen Bytold, though, of all places, I couldn’t be sure.
“Now, now,” Will reasoned, gently removing Ryoku from the men’s grip and coaxing him away. “This is a public place. If you wish to find a brawl, I suggest you take it someplace else.”
Ryoku glanced up at him while he was freed, unsure what to expect, but his eyes were filled with gratitude. The men who’d been holding Ryoku took a few steps back, sizing up Will, trying to decide whether the disturbance was worth the effort or not. The man who Will had plowed over got to his feet, swaying in place. I almost didn’t see that he plucked Ryoku’s small knife from the ground, hiding it in his meaty fist. A sinister grin spread across his face, and he took a step toward Will. The soldier leaned back a little and whispered to Ryoku, “Stay behind me.”
The Defender backed away, glancing questioningly at the back of Will’s cap. All at once, all five of the men who’d come after Ryoku lunged at the mercenary, one brandishing Ryoku’s knife. Will dropped to his knees, throwing his weight upon his left arm, and swung hard with his right leg. It struck the first man in the calf, bringing him straight down into Will’s upraised elbow. The soldier pivoted his weight, catching the man between his upturned elbow and one fist, and tossed him into the second man, sending them both crashing to the ground. The man with the knife skirted around them, showing no fear at the easy disposal of his two cronies. Will spun and aimed a well-placed kick straight at the hand holding the knife. The air rang with the excruciating noise of broken fingers, and the knife spun in the air several times before landing, point-first, in a table near the door.
Screaming in pain from his broken fingers, the man backed up, scanning his surroundings for a weapon as Will lost interest, turning and striking a fourth attacker in the jaw with a heavy fist. He grabbed the fifth man by the collar of his greasy shirt, lifting him easily from the ground.
“I believe this is over,” Will said sharply, all the more threatening as he addressed the last two men standing. “All of you men, dispatched so easily by one. Your time is wasted in a bar all day. I have found better fights in a schoolyard.”
The man held up by Will growled, but glanced mildly toward Ryoku. The young Defender looked helpless, caught in the midst of the brawl and unarmed. “Sorry, kid,” the man apologized gruffly, comparable to a child forced to apologize by his scorned mother. “The drink, y’know. Causes us to act harsher than we might’a outside.”
Ryoku managed a wry smile. “S’alright,” he replied calmly, stepping back closer to the bar. “No harm done.”
Will let the man down, and he quickly went to rouse his unconscious friends, ignoring the one with a broken hand who still glanced around wildly. Will didn’t allow him from his sight, and strode to the table where the knife had been embedded. He yanked it free with ease, flipping the small blade in his hand. It had a fine coppery handle and a blade only about twice the length of his finger. He examined it before returning to Ryoku, holding the knife out to him. “Did this belong to you?” he asked. “Best to keep a tight grip on it from now on.”
“Thank you,” Ryoku said, accepting the knife and stuffing it back into its sheath. “And… well, thank you. For saving me.”
The young soldier grinned. He was more rugged and older than the boy, but was almost his equal in charm. His glance passed by me, and his grin turned a little sheepish. “Not a problem. My apologies if I caused some damage in your inn, Miss. My name is Will Ramun.”
He addressed his introduction to the both of us. He shook Ryoku’s hand and smiled at me. Both the Defender and I introduced ourselves to the soldier. While Ryoku spoke his name, we noticed the last man running from the inn, sporting his broken hand. Will watched him go, and then turned back to us just as Ryoku uttered that he was a Defender.
“A Defender?” Will asked, sounding surprised. Clearly he hadn’t picked up on that bit during the fight. “What brings you to this village? I have never seen your kind in anything but capital cities. You must be new.”
I wasn’t sure what he meant by that, but Ryoku smiled. “Very. I came here with a friend who I met when I arrived, but he seems to have gone somewhere. He only left me this knife.”
Will’s brow arched, and he glanced by the door again. “Someone met you when you arrived? A Guardian?”
Ryoku looked confused for a moment. “I don’t know. He was just nearby when I got here. Offered to take me to the village where I could figure out where to go, but then he was just gone. He stands out badly, too. White hair, violet eyes.”
Will’s expression sharpened momentarily, but it evaporated so quickly that I almost thought I imagined it. “So you are headed to the capital, then,” he mused. “A dangerous trek. Through the Old Forest, it would take a seasoned traveler three days and nights to make it to the capital. For yourself… I fear to think the outcome. You truly do not have a Guardian yet, then?”
Ryoku frowned, only looking more and more confused. “What do you mean, a Guardian? I can handle it. I have this knife. As long as there’s no more drunks out in the woods.”
Will grinned in spite of himself. “I should hope there are no bars in the woods I have not found.” He resumed a serious expression. “The journey through the Old Forest is far too dangerous. Do you have gold to hire help? What supplies do you have?”
Ryoku brought his bag around in front of him, unfastening the straps and taking a gander inside. “A bit of food, a bedroll, a bit of gold…” He pulled out his fallow satchel and emptied the contents on the table. At best, it was about five gold coins. It wouldn’t even get him a second room at the inn, let alone the steep cost of Will’s patrol.
Will glanced at the gold with the expression of an unimpressed blacksmith who made an incredible sword, only to find the buyer hadn’t enough gold. He scratched his chin momentarily, then went to grab his bag which was left on a nearby table. It was double the size of Ryoku’s, certainly belonging to a backpacker rather than an ill-equipped Defender. He fished into the side pocket and pulled out a gold satchel. Where I thought he might offer the gold to Ryoku, he instead slid some coins toward me.
“I will take a room for the night,” he said. He seemed to have spot Ryoku’s own room key clipped to his belt as well, for he turned next to him. “You would not last the journey alone. That, I am confident in. I will guide you through the forest myself tomorrow morning. We will rest now and make a few stops in the morning.”
Ryoku met his offer with surprise. “You’re going to guide me yourself?” he asked in alarm. “I don’t think I have enough gold to pay you…”
Will smirked. “You do not,” he said simply. “But it matters not. There must be a reason I helped you, and this seems to be it. I will take you to the capital myself once we make a few stops.”
Ryoku's head tilted to the side. "What sort of stops?" he asked eagerly. I sensed a spark forming inside him, an eagerness to begin his journey.
Will scratched his chin. "I must speak to my team," he said. "And we must find you some better equipment. It is ill luck for Defender to travel with but a single knife." He looked Ryoku over thoughtfully, a soldier's searching glance. "Perhaps a bow or staff. Perhaps even both."
Ryoku's brow raised. "I'm not sure I have enough money for weapons," he murmured, half to himself. Will grinned, clapping him on the shoulder.
"We shall think on it in the morning, my friend," Will told him reassuringly. "For now, we should rest."
Bouncing on his heels, the Defender nodded. He didn't look like he needed sleep at all despite having just escaped from a fight with several drunks, and it sounded like his day had been long already. Tomorrow would be even longer for the young Defender. Remembering my job, I fetched a room key from below the bar table. I tossed it casually to Will, who was far too used to renting out rooms here and caught it nimbly, spinning it on his ring finger before clasping it in his fist. He turned to the young Defender. "Shall we rest up, then?"
He nodded, ceasing his eager bouncing. He turned to me with a brave smile. For a brief moment, I saw past it as clearly as a cloudless sky. He was scared of the journey ahead, of what impossible tasks faced him as a Defender. He'd already faced five angry men aiming to make a Defender suffer, saved only by a soldier's kindness. I couldn’t imagine what else faced him on the road ahead. I knew of the Old Forest, though much of my life had been spent in the village just south of it, avoiding the indigenous forest as much as possible. But he now had Will Ramun, the kind-hearted soldier, to guide him through at least the beginning of his new journey.
"Thank you for your assistance," he told me politely, clasping his hands together in a strange sort of bow.
I smiled at him. "Any time," I replied, as though I helped intriguing Defenders on a daily basis. Before I could protest, he leaned in - graceful as a swan despite the rushed movement - and kissed me on the cheek. I felt my face turn crimson, barely noticing a few glares I received from jealous women in the bar. Ryoku Dragontalen was a catch for sure, one who was quickly slipping out of my grasp. The fact that he gave me the time of day made a strange feeling rise up in my chest.
"I appreciate your help," he told me, smiling. I could only dumbly return the notion, watching him turn with Will Ramun at his side as they made towards the stairs, seemingly as quickly as he'd come. Before a moment's passing, Will had his arm around his shoulder in a comradely way, already immersed in some sort of topic. I grinned at how excellently those two had been paired to set off into the Old Forest.
Finally, tearing my eyes away from the handsome young demi-Elf, I returned to my boring tavern duties, almost wishing I could have been the one to journey with that boy.
…End of Scene One.