The Sapphire Eruption, page 7
part #1 of The Sword's Choice Series
The leader approached slowly. He got so close the woman could smell his sweat mixed with a strong-smelling fragrance. The man showed a disgusting smile and snatched the pitchfork from the woman’s arms, which were frozen with fear. Some subjects of the Queendom of Water enjoyed seeing the fear they could summon in other people; this man was one of those. He held his knife high. With his other hand, he stroked the woman’s face. She was not even able to open her eyes; she just kept praying to her god. It was time for the Aqua Deus to make its move.
But it was not the Aqua Deus who made its move. Noakh was no longer in the trees. Then, suddenly, the man’s hands had moved away. Not understanding what was happening, the woman again opened her eyes. She saw a young man with black hair standing between her and the group of heartless thieves, all of who seemed as surprised as she was.
“Go away!” Noakh said threateningly. He raised his sword with both hands. He did not know which was stranger: listening to his own voice after spending so much time in the solitude of the forest, or brandishing a weapon to face other men.
Noakh wished those fools would make the mistake of attacking him. Somehow they reminded him of the thieves who had assaulted his house. His eyes, full of hatred, seemed to reflect his thoughts. This time it was the assailants who took a few steps back. Although they understood they had the advantage numerically, the boy they were facing was armed with a sword—and he seemed willing to use it. The leader gripped his knife tightly, even as he looked carefully at the boy. His black hair and brown eyes were a disturbing vision. What was a Fireo doing in these lands?
“I will not repeat it again,” Noakh said slowly as he looked at them. “Get out of here.” He raised his sword, ready to fight.
The leader decided not to risk further action. He nodded slightly to his companions, and such a small signal was enough, as his crew sheathed their knives and drew away from the woman. Then they turned their heads, staring at the Fireo once more, as if they didn’t believe their eyes, their eyes fixed on that strange-looking boy who had emerged from nowhere, and for no reason. They kept looking back until they disappeared into the forest.
* * *
When they finally left, Noakh sheathed his sword. His hands hurt, due to how hard he had held his weapon. He had not felt that kind of pain for a long time. He turned to look at the woman. She had backed away slyly after Noakh had appeared. Now she stood startled in the muddy road… Was she any safer than before?
Noakh realized that she was in fact a young girl—a girl of his age, or even a few years younger. Her eyes inspected him strangely, with fear. He realized that if his eyes and hair were not exotic enough on their own, they were accompanied by the look of a man who had spent an entire year lost in the woods. His clothes were totally ragged.
He looked into the girl’s eyes for the first time. “Why did you not run, you stupid?” said Noakh with resentment. He was really upset about having to be part of a world he no longer considered his own.
The girl looked at him in surprise. She did not understand why he was asking her a question about something that was so obvious to her. “My parents worked hard throughout the harvest.” Her voice somehow seemed indignant to Noakh. “I could not let those thieves ransack all my parents’ work simply because of my fear,” she said after a long pause.
This time it was Noakh who was surprised, not expecting such words. “I see,” he said.
He turned and was about to leave, then the girl talked.
“May I at least know the name of my savior?”
Noakh didn’t turn back to answer her. Instead, he paused before saying his name. He remembered what his name meant, what it meant to his father. That wasn’t his name anymore, he thought. He had given up on life and become an outcast. “Akhail.” He answered while lowering his eyes.
But a moment later, he left the girl again, returning the way he had come. The young woman did not even manage to thank him—not for lack of gratitude but because she was still perplexed by everything. First she was about to be beaten by those thieves and then that boy with black hair and brown eyes, a Fireo, no doubt…
Noakh began to climb the tree to resume his nap. But the girl’s words kept repeating in his head. She had been brave. She was willing to fight until the very end for what had cost so much effort to his parents. He instead…
“Damn it!” he exclaimed.
Outraged, he swiped his hand at a tree branch. After all that had happened, it seemed he was going to be the stupid one. He started to climb down the tree to return to the girl. He wanted to thank her for opening his eyes.
The wagon was not in the road anymore. The girl had apparently continued on her way—a cloud of dust could be seen moving along with the wagon. But Noakh saw, on the ground where the wagon had been, some neatly folded clothes, and some food. He could not help but smile. Not only had the girl taught him a lesson; she had also given him new clothes and a decent meal.
Noakh paused for a moment to consider. It was curious how wisdom could be found in the most unexpected places… and the most unexpected people.
He kept running through the forest. He had avoided such paths during all that time. He panted heavily, but he would not stop running. Lower branches and bushes smashed his face, his hands, but he didn’t care at all. He could already hear the water stream. He had arrived. Noakh stood in front of the river. There he was again, the same spot where everything had ended a year ago. Noakh dove into the water… the exact place where he had thrown Distra. He remembered the spot because, just before throwing the sword into the river, he had cut a particular tree several times with the sword, lashing out at it due to his anger. He kept looking under the water, desperately trying to find his sword.
The sword was not there. Probably the current had dragged it away. He came to the surface and gave a deep breath.
Noakh cursed his luck once more. Being fair, this time he deserved it. After all, he had thrown it into the river a year ago; he could not expect the sword to be there waiting for him with open arms. His Fireo temper wouldn’t let him fail. He would search the entire sea until he found that damn sword!
He kept searching again and again, tirelessly, ceaselessly. The water was really cold but he didn’t care at all. He tried not to think, because he knew doubts would begin to flood his mind. After a few attempts, he had to get out, take a breath, and dive again. The river’s waters were crystalline and cold. The devoted citizens kept the waters pristine. No one would think of throwing things in them. And for those whose devotion was not motivation enough, they were convinced to keep the waters clean by the threat of death penalty, which would be imposed on them if they polluted the waters.
It was when Noakh’s fingers were already wrinkled that he saw a shining object resting on the riverbed. The object was covered by a rock. Weeds were dancing around it. Noakh grabbed the hilt of Distra and pulled it gently, but the sword was blocked under the rock, as if Distra didn’t want to get back to Noakh’s hands. He pulled again, a bit harder this time, and got the sword out from under the rock. Noakh brandished his sword with both hands, admiring it for a few seconds, then pushed himself hard to the surface.
He was sitting on the riverbank, completely soaked, looking at his sword as if he hadn’t seen a friend in a long time. He spent a lot of time contemplating it, distracted. His father had protected it for all those years, had sacrificed his life for Noakh, to the point where he had left his family… and Noakh had tried to throw it all away. How stupid! he thought. In the sword’s reflection he saw what he had become. He looked horrible. He needed a haircut and a proper dyeing.
His father had trained him to be king someday, or at least to fight for it. While the other children had played, he practiced the art of swordsmanship, fighting with two swords. Now he understood why. He realized that he could not escape his destiny; sooner or later it would end up chasing him.
“I will face the world, and then I will face my destiny,” he said sternly.
He had his sword and new clothes, although he had to do something about his black hair. This was not difficult at all. He only had to gather some white flowers whose stems contained a nectar that turned his hair blond. After all, that was how he and his father had done it for all those years.
He wandered through the forest, as those flowers usually grew in humid places. Being so close to a river, there would probably be some white flowers close to his place. Noakh frowned. He had usually seen some of those plants when he had meandered through the forest, and now that he needed them he was unable to find any?
Luckily, his knowledge of the forests helped him. Not far away, there was a meadow full of flowers of different colors. The ones he was searching for would surely grow there too.
He was right. There they were, growing between two rocks with moss. One would be enough to turn his hair blond for a while, but he picked another in case he needed it. He didn’t like abusing nature.
He went back to the river, then he extracted the nectar of the flower pressing it with his own fingers. His hands were covered in a slimy whitish substance and then applied it, dyeing his hair and beard. He looked at his reflection in the water, making sure he had applied the liquid of the flower all along his hair and eyebrows, as his father had taught him long ago. His hair turned dark blond, as well as his beard. He really needed both a haircut and a shave.
He walked to the nearest town, Aquaterna, which was a short distance away on foot. Noakh had been there once with his father, but he did not remember many details of their trip. But today, walking through the streets of the village, he saw that everything was more or less as he remembered. It was a noisy place, with a large market where traders did their business. The stench from the accumulation of cattle and people… The stalls full of objects of all kinds, from vegetables to the strangest metal utensils… Lumio used to say that in Aquaterna you could purchase everything—even a woman. Being just a child, Noakh had not understood the exaggeration; he had approached one of the merchants to ask him to be his mother. Lumio had erupted in laughter. Recalling this memory brought a smile to Noakh’s face.
While he was walking through the marketplace he met two City Guards, soldiers from the lower ranks of the army. He tried to avoid them but he was too late. One of the guards had noticed him and started talking to him.
“Hey you, Brown Eyes… Nice swords!”
Noakh had already grown used to being called Brown Eyes. At first he thought the nickname was meant to insult him; later he realized that it was often a quick way to address him when someone did not know his name. Even though the former connotation was the most usual, this time the soldier seemed to be employing the latter connotation.
Even so, Noakh instinctively extended his hands to defend himself. However, there seemed to be no hostility in the guard’s words. Although the guard had put him in a bad mood, he knew enough to approach the guards if he did not want to have more problems.
“Thank you, sir,” he lied while smiling. “I’m practicing hard to be a great soldier.”
“Ha! Really?” said the soldier, pleased by Noakh’s response. “Being a soldier is a hard task, boy.”
The second soldier joined the conversation after letting out a snort. “Exactly, Aleas. It’s hard for you to drink all the wine in the tavern!” He laughed.
“Don’t be stupid, Treven.” The first guard suppressed his partner with his hand; he had been trying to dilute the fun. “What do you say, boy? Would you like a practical class?”
Noakh did not know how to respond. The last time he had drawn his two swords, he had been engulfed in a murderous rage. He did not know how he would react to the opportunity to engage in a new combat, let alone a village in which so many people surrounded him. It did not seem the most appropriate circumstances under which to conduct such an experiment.
“On another occasion, my lord… without a doubt I would be honored! I still have a long way to go to understand the art of swordsmanship, in which you are undoubtedly well versed,” Noakh lied again. He tried to speak with as much respect as he could, as he knew that sometimes making someone feel important is the best way to ensure he leaves you alone.
“Nonsense. On guard!” Aleas said joyfully.
Unsheathing the sword, he threw a trial thrust at Noakh, who drew both of his two swords instinctively and parried the thrust easily. The display caught the attention of the citizens, who drew closer to witness the event.
“Good parry… Let’s see about this one!” Aleas said with a smile. He stepped back to gain momentum. Then he began to unleash a series of cuts that in his eyes were complicated. However, a soldier of the Fire Kingdom had trained Noakh since childhood. To him, such attacks were no more than a warm-up. Despite this, in order to extricate himself from the situation, he began to pretend he was having difficulty keeping up with the soldier, and he let one of Aleas’s cuts disarm him of his steel sword.
This provoked shouts of admiration and applause from the audience, while the soldier, Aleas, bowed and his companion, Treven, affirmed with his arms crossed.
“Thank you, thank you,” Aleas said, full of pride. Showing the people the skills of the queen’s soldiers never hurt, he knew.
“You have beaten me, good sir. Your combat techniques are too advanced for a mere apprentice. I hope that one day I will be able to be as capable as you are.” Noakh, too, accompanied his affirmation with a bow. He could not help but feel a certain discomfort at the falseness of his words.
“You have good basics, boy. You just need more training. I started like you, I did not know what a sword was. Hard work makes you reach the top, like us.”
At this, the two soldiers inflated their chests, affirming their pride. They made Noakh bow while the audience applauded, and some of them even made the Aquo reverence. Noakh knew that he could not continue this farce much longer; his pride prevented him from continuing to praise the almost nonexistent skills of his rival.
“Then it would be better if I went to train as soon as possible, sir. It has been an honor to lose against you. Good luck during your guard!”
Noakh turned away from the people, saying goodbye as best as he could. He could not bear his defeat; although this time it was feigned, defeat was something that he had been unable to bear even as a child. In his first training sessions with the sword, there had not been a single combat against Lumio that he did not lose.
Lumio. He gave Noakh no leniency, although he had been a simple apprentice. “You must know which battles to fight, but you must also know which battles to win,” he had pronounced. No doubt having left that soldier as evidence of which battles he could win would have caused him nothing but problems.
After leaving Aleas and Treven, Noakh passed in front of a tavern. He decided he needed to take one—or several—drinks. No better way to reintegrate into society.
He was about to open the door when a woman burst through the door and fell down to the street vomiting, while another woman, looking as drunk as her comrade, appeared from inside the tavern and tried to help her. When Noakh got inside, the tavern was crowded, and he had to push his way through the drunken crowd. The place reeked of alcohol and sweat, just as every inn did. He sat in a corner. Close to him, three men were bursting with bellowing laughter.
One tankard of beer followed the other, and he grew more confident. So what if king Wulkan had an army? An idea occurred to him. Why had it not come to mind before?! It could work. He stood up on his table while pouring a half-full tankard of beer into his mug.
“Drink… ers!” Noakh began with some difficulty. “I am looking for brave soldiers who want to join me. I cannot tell you much, but it is an ad… venture, the likes of which you have never heard, with an un… im… aginable reward when we reach our destin… ation, a road full of dangers. What do you say? Who will join such an ad… venture?” he cried as he raised his beer, hoping that they all would do the same, toasting him.
All the people inside the tavern stared at him, surprised. Then they burst out laughing as they pointed at him and made fun of him. They were heard hurling all kinds of expletives his way. Seeing the little success he was having, Noakh decided to climb off the table, dodging some flying tankards as he did so. Crestfallen, he sat in a corner, waiting to be served.
“Very nice speech, brown eyes.”
With a smile, a waitress poured Noakh another mug of beer. She laughed while winking at him. Noakh still had not noticed this third reason why strangers referred to him by the color of his eyes. “But I do not think an establishment such as this is the best place to find what you are looking for, adventurer.”
She walked away from the table, turning back to give Noakh another warm smile. He returned it timidly, while swallowing his beer. Leaving the discouragement behind him, Noakh considered what his next step should be. A bunch of drunks were not going to end his determination, leastways not when alcohol flowed down his throat and filled his stomach.
At a nearby table, two men were arguing loudly, their beers no doubt adding more weight to their words. Their faces were red as tomatoes, so Noakh assumed both had consumed more than a sufficient dose of ale to engage in such arguments as powerfully as they could.
“And I tell you that the Kingdom of Air is the wildest of all! They subject their children to a barbaric ritual. They throw them from a cliff… and the one who survives will be the future king! It is the greatest brutality that can be done to a child, worthy of wild animals—that’s what they are! Authentic and stupid savages!” His words echoed between hiccups and pauses, a result of his massive intake of alcohol. His narrowed eyes seemed to give no less indignation to his words.
“Blunders and fairy tales!” the other man said. “If it were like that and only the heir to the throne survived, the Aertians would not have survived as a tribe—they would all be dead but their king!” Despite the second man’s drunken state, it seemed that at least a certain common sense prevailed. “Besides, what about the burned ones? Ha! I love that word. They take the newborns and they burn them alive to purify them. They burn them alive!” he repeated. However, it seemed that his logic was applicable only to the arguments of his rival.
