In Search of Auria (2 page)

“Who do you think you are, coming at me this
way?” he said.

“Where is she? Where was she taken?”

The glowering of his face gave him away; he
immediately knew what I was talking about. He unsheathed his sword
and pointed it at me, “How do you know about that? Only a handful
of men know what that carriage is hauling. Answer me, you cretin.
Who are you?”

“I am no one,” I answered, glaring with
sharp eyes. “I’m just a man in search of what was stolen from him.
No matter where she is, I will bring her back home. I’ll find her,
even if it means breaking you and this sorry country in half!”

“Back home? You are a miaflorian! I’ll cut
you up and feed you to the dogs!”

He raised his sword and charged at me like
if he were jousting. I blocked his blows with my shield, but the
added speed of the horse made the hits hard to withstand.
Eventually, he swung hard enough that I stumbled to the ground. I
couldn’t keep this up. If I did, he was surely going to defeat me.
As I flipped my body to stand, I saw the body of the dead sentry.
The spear was standing upright on his chest. It was the weapon I
needed to finish this. I rashly let go of my sword and shield, and
bolted for it.

“Yes! Run, coward, run!” barked the captain.
I reached the spear and ripped it out of the corpse’s torso. I
looked back and the captain was already meters away, his blade
raised to give me the final blow. I knelt, aimed at the horse’s
legs, and swung the spear. Both captain and horse plunged to the
ground. He landed on his head and lost consciousness.

Minutes later he woke up with a groan.
Stripped of all his possessions, except his undergarments, I had
bound his hands and feet. He opened his eyes to see my knee pushing
firmly against his bare chest. I was kneeling on top of him,
pushing the weight of my body on his sternum, striving to hear it
crack. He tried to scream, but I had stuffed a cloth in his mouth.
His horse was behind us, eating grass and neighing, completely
ignoring his punishment.

“I don’t have time to waste,” I told him,
“Just tell me what I want to know and I won’t hurt you anymore.” I
tried to show him some mercy, but as soon as I removed the cloth
from his mouth, he told me to piss off.

I guess he didn’t get the message. I jumped
up and dropped my knee so hard on his chest, he coughed up blood. I
took out my dagger and pressed it upon his cheek, “Look, I’m new to
this whole torturing thing, but I sure know how to use a knife.
Now, talk!”

He didn’t react the way I expected. I wanted
to intimidate him and make him talk, but he just continued with the
insults and mockery. His dreaded voice bounced off my head, and his
repugnant face squirmed and twisted. I couldn’t stand him anymore.
I raised the blade and let my rage take over.

“WHERE IS AURIA?!”

I drove the dagger down and pushed it all
the way into his shoulder. He screamed in pain as the blood spewed
over the skin. I held firmly onto his agony, turning the blade
until he finally gave me what I needed.

“Vidana City, Vidana…” he screamed, “please,
stop.”

Vidana, the capital of Balora. Auria was
being taken to the heart of the enemy kingdom. But, why? Why was
the balorian military interested in her? She had never even being
in contact with them. I removed the dagger from his bloody flesh
and walked away. But, as I passed by his horse with a river of
questions in my mind, I heard him give a weak chuckle. I turned to
see his vile smile.

“You love her, don’t you?” he asked.

I stood still.

“Haha, to risk your life and come all this
way past enemy lines, love must be involved… Blasphemy!” he
scowled. “A warrior falling for a flimsy
fairy
? It’s so
stupid I still can’t take it seriously.”

Little did he know that the rope I used to
tie his feet was also latched to the saddle of his horse. I didn’t
plan to do it, but he was being such a jerk I just had to. I
slapped the horse’s rump and it dashed off, dragging his body
behind. His skin split and gashed all over by the grass, dry
bushes, and rocks. The horse ran all around the pond, while I
entered the forest with map in hand. No man, animal or beast would
keep me from her. It was just a matter of time until I found and
reached my Auria.

I made a campfire, took off my gauntlets and
sat. The night breeze had mellowed down to a comforting whisper,
and the cloudy sky brushed by like a colorless painting. I
outstretched my hands to the flames and felt the heat caress the
space between my fingers. It had been two days since I encountered
the balorian captain. Since then I had steadily marched northwest,
where the next village was located. Whether I’d enter or not that
village would be a decision for later. For now, it was a moment of
rest. The flickering of the fire and the crackling of the wood
evoked events from my past. I gazed at blaze, hypnotized by its
upward flow dance.

Memories of past events emerged and slowly
crept into my mind’s eye…

*

The fires roared when explosions cracked the
earth. The morning had begun with battle. Mangonel catapults shot
raging balls of fire from a distance, destroying every tree and man
they landed upon. The conflict was happening at Somber Petalia, a
region located on the west of Miaflore. It was called this way
because of the fields and hills naturally overlaid with dark petal
flowers. But, that day those flowers had been dyed red. The whole
field was full of warriors in combat. Somber Petalia made border
with the invading country of Balora. The miaflorians protected
their home, wearing their green and radiant chainmail. The
balorians pressed on to conquer it, vesturing their dim, blue
plated armor.

From the smoke and fire, a squadron of
miaflorian knights rode their horses to the heart of the skirmish.
Among them was Erik Belrose, a strong and skilled 24 year old
soldier in the prime of his life. With light brown eyes, black wavy
hair, and a lean physique under his armor, Erik was vigorous and
fearless. Coming from a long family of warriors, he was born into
the war and knew nothing else but grinding battle. His body
hardened by combat, and his mind carved out of pure will, he had
his eyes fixed on the struggle ahead. But even though he was one of
the best and was praised strongly by his brethren, he longed for
the conflicts to be over and enter an era of peace. He wanted to
know if he would ever reach a moment of his life in which he would
draw something else than his sword; to appreciate what had been
denied to him because of his hard profession. But until that time
of pleasantries came, blood and steel were to be his
companions.

“Advance!” shouted Gregor Tolbert, the
captain of the squadron. He was a man already on his fifties, but
led and fought with the heart of a lion. “Kill everything wearing
that dreaded blue armor!”

The group of men he commanded was the
Eternal Squadron. They were the best force of the army, engaging
the enemy with their superior skill and strategy. With them
deployed, the skirmish was sure to turn in favor of the
miaflorians.

The two armies clashed south of Margot
Plateau. This was a noticeably large mound of earth in Somber
Petalia. It was surrounded by the flower fields, except for its
west side, where the upland broke into a cliff. At the bottom of
the cliff rushed the white waters of the Crude River. At the top of
Margot Plateau was Tally, a village that had been overrun by the
balorians. That’s where they had set up their catapults. An advance
force had already made its way up to try and disable the
mechanisms, but they had been cut off from the main force when the
opposing militia divided the army. That is why Erik’s squadron was
called, to sort out the mess.

With the help of the Eternal Squadron, the
army slowly pushed forward, advancing the frontlines. Erik charged
and attacked atop his horse, when he noticed balorian
reinforcements coming around the plateau.

“Infantry, sir,” he warned the captain,
“Coming from the east!”

Captain Tolbert gave the command to send
half of the squadron east for support. Erik stayed behind with the
remainder to rid the area of the invaders. He jumped off his horse
to fight. It was his preferred way of combat; going face to face
with the enemy and emerge victorious by his superior skill. He
fought full of vigor, dodging and countering every attack whether
it came from sword or spear.

“Arg!” he heard a familiar scream behind
him. He saw his friend, Raymond, getting knocked off his horse by a
rogue arrow. It got lodged on his left shoulder. While he laid on
the ground, an enemy soldier ran to strike him. Erik dashed to his
friend and with an able slash killed the soldier. He helped Raymond
to his feet and plucked the arrow out his shoulder.

“Damn, that hurts,” Raymond grunted, looking
at his wound. “But I’m fine. I can still hold my sword.”

“You’d better, ‘cause I won’t babysit you
forever,” Erik replied as he reached for the shield he carried on
his back. He fixed it on his arm and engaged the enemy.

After a few hits, cuts, and bruises, the
squadron’s effort paid off and the balorians withdrew. The mounted
captain neared Erik and Raymond and observed Raymond’s wound.

“Are you all right? How is it?” he
asked.

“This is nothing,” replied Raymond holding
his composure. “I will continue until we emerge victorious.” The
captain smiled at his words. He was about to dismount his horse
when the advance force that had been sent to Margot Plateau bolted
down its slope in terror. The army watched in awe as some of them
tripped and rolled down. They had been successful in stopping the
catapults, so why should they run? What had they encountered to
make them flee in such a way?

Then, a messenger coming from the miaflorian
command post ran to the captain’s horse and relayed his message,
“Captain, a message from command. We are to stop our advancement
and regroup. The Eternal Squadron and the rest of the army should
wait in position until further orders.”

The captain turned his head to see how the
miaflorians ran in retreat. Something was coming and he had to stop
it.

“Nonsense!” he yelled to the messenger, “The
main army can stay, but this squadron is mine. We shall
advance!”

He pointed his sword towards Margot Plateau
and yelled with verve, “Brave men of the Eternal Squadron, hear me.
On the top of this lonely pile of land awaits our victory. Destroy
every balorian on it! Charge and reclaim our land!”

The brief speech invigorated the squadron.
They galloped up the slope with Tolbert at point. Erik and Raymond
ran behind, their horses lost due to the chaos of the
battlefield.

“Useless cowards!” the captain shouted as he
passed the fleeing miaflorian soldiers. “I prefer to run bravely
towards death, than to run crying for my life!”

As Erik and Raymond strode up the slope,
Erik stopped one of the fleeing soldiers.

“Why do you run?” he asked him.

“He’s too big, he’s a monster!” the soldier
replied and continued running.

“What might it be?” Raymond wondered.

“Whatever it is, we must hurry and catch up
with the squadron.”

When they finally reached the top, the
squadron had already entered the village. Tally was a very small
community that consisted of roughly forty wooden cottages and a
handful of shops. The only place in it that gave it some
recognition was the small plaza located near the cliff. Its floor
had been flagged with cobblestone, painted with floral designs just
like the flowers that surrounded the upland.

Erik led the way into the village by one of
its southern entrances. He could hear a chanting coming from the
plaza. He didn’t understand what it was, but every now and then
there was a loud cheer. They treaded carefully about the streets,
but there was no sign of either the squadron or the enemy. All they
could do was continue to the plaza, where the chanting came from.
As they drew closer they were able to make out what the chants
were. It was men shouting, repeating, “Beast! Beast! Beast!” As the
voices reiterated the word, a chill went down Erik’s spine. He knew
his brethren did no such thing. It could only be the balorians. And
if it was the balorians, it meant trouble.

They took a left on the next street and saw
a cobbled lane at the end. If they followed the lane, they would
end at the plaza. Running to turn at the corner, the voices cheered
and a heavy thud was heard on the roof of the cottage beside them.
A body rolled off and landed on its back. Raymond gasped
immediately. It was the captain. The chainmail on his chest was
oozing with blood. Erik tightened his jaw and pursed his lips in
anger. Raymond sobbed as he ran to the body.

“Father, father… no…” he cried as he fell on
his knees.

The captain’s horse trotted its way into the
street and stopped beside its master’s dead corpse. Erik sheathed
his sword and quickly held the reins. When he turned to Raymond,
his friend’s crying had turned into fury. He was ready to avenge
his father’s death. Erik knew he would want to go into the plaza
and kill whoever was responsible, but his blind rage would only
bring his demise. He grabbed him by the arm and tried to bring him
to his senses.

“Raymond, you have to go now. You need to
survive. Take your father back to Pollen.”

“No! I want the killer’s head. Let go of
me!”

“Think, damn it! You are now the head of
your family, your father’s only son. You can’t afford to die here.
Your mother and wife need you. You have to go!” Raymond struggled
and breathed hard until calming down. With tears glittering in his
eyes, he finally agreed. He then fixed his sight on Erik.

“And you? You’ll stay?”