This tribe lives on the edge of Rokhumaan, a large country in Valantia. You can’t enter the Yerin’s territory unless you follow a secret path, known to few outside the tribe. I happen to be one of them. I have drawn it out and will give it to you when you leave. I had the chance to meet their then future leader and probably their current leader, a man named Dag Heyat. I forged his weapon, a beast of an axe, called the Buuzmeq. When you meet this man, mention my name and show him this medallion. He will recognize it, and then will surely help you punish those two or help catch them if they have left the tribe. It would be an affront to his honor not to.”
I looked at the medallion he handed over to me. It was a simple one, with a “Y,” in the center and encircled by a simple “O.” The workmanship seemed easy to copy.
“This seems really easy to replicate, Grim. Should I make copies in case I lose this one?”
Grim shook his head. “It might seem simple, but it cannot be replicated. The metal alloy used makes it unique. The alloy is recognized only by the Yerins. If you have a copy, you will die the second a Yerin holds it. They will know instantly that it is not an original. This is a symbol of friendship, given only to people outside the tribe who have done something extremely significant for them. Pretending to be friends is a terrible sin among the Yerins.”
Grim stood up. “I have told you all I can. Gather some food, and all that I have promised to give you, which is in the kitchen, get ready, and leave. Good luck. I will see you in nine months.”
And then he left. It would be a long time before I would see him again. The man who had made my journey possible, giving me the means and the goal, the man who I owed my life to, left without waiting for me to even thank him.
I headed out, picking up everything Grim had given me. I kept the weapons in its case, deciding to wait till I exit the village to don them. I picked up the pouch which had a few hundred coins. Beside the pouch was the map, rolled up. With all these, I headed home, packed some clothes and some food. Then I headed to the northern exit, ready to leave the village I had never left, to move out into the world and avenge my friend, a man who I knew only as Olmot.
Chapter 10: The strange beast of the plains
I left the village within a couple of hours of my conversation with Grim.
I didn’t stop to meet or bid farewell to anyone.
I knew vaguely how the route from the northern exit panned out, based on the map that Grim had drawn. He had, in fact, drawn three maps, with the first one to reach a village named Nuevida from Villasboro. The second detailed the journey from Nuevida to the mid of the Üzilis mountains. The last one detailed the journey to the hidden Yerin village.
As I left the Northern exit, the memories of my maiden journey into the hills with Olmot came back. This time also, I was venturing into some place new. But now, I was alone. I continued on the path which was vaguely visible. It hadn’t been used often, given few people knew of it. It was the first time in almost a month that I had been awake, rested and strong for almost a day.
The journey to Nuevida, which was located at a distance of about two hundred kilometers, would take me about two weeks. I spent the day walking, reading through the maps and training. As I left the village, I wore the glove, the bracer, and attached the sword’s hilt on my belt. The glove was a perfect fit. I felt some pressure on my knuckles for a few hours after I wore it, but otherwise there was no difference between the glove and my hand.
When I wore the glove, it looked as if it lost its luster, changing into what looked like an ordinary glove. I was worried, wondering if I had destroyed it somehow. I decided to test it on a nearby tree. I walked up and punched the tree lightly. Nothing happened. My fear was increasing. More than anything else, I was feeling terrible at having ruined Grim’s workmanship. I continued to punch, harder and harder, getting more and more desperate as it wasn’t making any difference. The trunk seemed unaffected. I might as well have been hitting it with flowers.
In my anger with myself and the tree, I swung with all my might at the tree trunk. There was a loud crack. It was my wrist—there was a shooting pain in my wrist. I had probably sprained or broken my wrist. But when I looked up, I was happy. The trunk, which had no marks so far, had a fist shaped impression in it, with the part of trunk around it broken. My master’s creation worked.
All that told me was that I had to train to punch better and use the glove better. As Grim said, the glove absorbed the impact to protect my hand. My knuckles and fingers were undamaged. But having thrown the punch improperly, I had sprained my wrist. I took out a piece of cloth and tied it around my wrist so that it wouldn’t move. This would help it heal.
I walked for a day before trying the next weapon that Grim had given me. I didn’t want to break both my wrists on the same day. But I was worried for no reason. My wrist had healed. It had just been a sprain.
Next, I tried the sword. I swung it at another tree in my path, and I had better success with it than the glove. It cut a little into the tree. I had to improve my swing, but at least it didn’t bounce off the tree. I moved back a few paces, and tried to throw the sword at the tree. This time it didn’t penetrate. It barely reached and did bounce off. When I pulled it back, it returned with surprising speed and I was barely able to catch it. It seemed as if the wire built up tension within it, which was released when I pulled it back, enabling it to travel back to me much faster.
Then I held the sword with both hands. The blade began to glow, and I could see it increasing in length. As it stopped growing, I swung it hard at the tree. The sword cut through the tree like a hot knife through butter. The sword was incredible. But as the tree fell, I felt a great drain in my strength as well. I felt incredibly weak, as if the sword absorbed my strength completely during the swing. As the tree fell, I fell to the ground too, suddenly too tired to stand. I rested where I fell for a while. I learned something that Grim hadn’t told me—not to use the two-handed swing unless it was a last resort.
After eating and resting for the whole day, I started walking again. The trail seemed to run close to the river, as I could, sometimes, hear the roaring waters of the White Destroyer. The next few days passed on the winding trail, with little to do but walk, eat and train. I had to use the sword to clear my path sometimes, given the dense foliage. Occasionally I used the two-handed stroke too, but quickly. I swung before I gave the sword time to grow fully. It wasn’t as effective, and it was still draining, but I could take down a couple of trees every day, without collapsing completely. It took me a few days, but I was getting better at using the glove and the sword. I also got the strange feeling that the sword was also getting used to me. Perhaps I still hadn’t recovered completely from the effects of Blue Haze. Perhaps the sword was truly getting used to my hand.
In about a week and half, I started to observe that the density of trees was reducing. I seemed to be reaching the end of the forests that surrounded the village. Knowing fully well the ominous nature of my goal, there was a sense of nervous excitement in me to look upon the world outside for the first time. The sound of the river had stopped completely in the last couple of days, implying that I had turned away from the river’s course.
Suddenly I felt myself emerging from the forest. The trail ended abruptly, with me leaving the forest cover into an area with far fewer trees. Once I stepped out, I realized a major reason why almost no one travelled to Villasboro. Unless you knew there was a path behind the dense cover of shrubs, it was completely invisible. The other reason lay in front of me.
I saw for the first time what plains meant. I could, through the trees, see a vast, never-ending flat landscape. The immense space in front of me was… truly magnificent. The golden ground, marked by vast expanses of green, meeting the blue sky at a distance was truly a marvel to behold. Given this marvel of nature, why would anyone choose to squeeze themselves in the narrow path, move farther into a dense forest where you couldn’t see anything beyond the tree right in front?
&n
bsp; I just sat there, admiring the magnificence of nature in front of me for a while. Then hunger took hold of me. I was reminded of Grim’s words. “Like an ever-hungry man searching for bread, you should always think about your goal until you achieve it.” I felt bad for taking the time to admire the sights. After eating some of the fruit I had taken from the forests, I moved on, bidding the forests a good bye, for the moment.
According to the map, I had to move to my left, almost along the forest edge but a little diagonally to find the village of Nuevida. The strange switch in travelling in the dense forest to open land was disconcerting after spending the last few days in the dense jungle. As I moved on, I began to see more of the land.
In a couple of days, the trees were few and far between. The land was full of green grass, with patches of golden soil marked by buildings, seen at a distance, which I assumed was the village I was travelling towards. I picked up pace as I was fast running out of food, which was plenty in the forest, but seemed difficult to find in the plains. I couldn’t eat the grass unfortunately, which was plentiful.
But before I could reach the village, I came across a strange sight. A strange beast was approaching me. I could see only its silhouette due to the sun’s position which cast a shadow onto the beast. It seemed to have a man’s body till the torso, but had four legs with which it ran. It was fast approaching me. I wondered what this strange beast of the plains was. As it got closer, I could see more. It definitely had a man’s body, but from the hip there seemed to be another head emerging, which was long, like a sheep’s head, but larger. I had never seen anything travel so fast.
As the creature sped past me, the human head turned to look at me briefly before it went on, darting towards the forest. I could see it had human legs as well, but they rested in between the four legs connected to what seemed to be the main body.
After I watched this strange creature disappear, I wanted to follow it, out of curiosity. As I started to run after it, I observed another set of similarly shaped creatures approach me. They seemed… less sturdy looking to me. When they were close to me, I was surprised as one of them spoke to me.
“Did you see a large man ride by here?”
So these creatures also called themselves men? “Large man?”
“Don’t play dumb, villager. You know you can’t lie to us. Where did he go? He was riding a jet-black horse, also quite large.”
I was first confused. Then it dawned on me. What I saw was a man riding a horse. These were also men, riding horses. The creature with a long head like sheep and four legs was a horse. I smiled at my own silliness.
These men didn’t react well to my smile. It must have seemed strange to them for a man to smile when they insulted him. They lashed out, with one of them hitting me on the back with the hilt of the sword that he was carrying, which knocked me to the ground, and wiped the smile off my face.
“What was that for?” I asked in pain, as I rubbed the spot where the hilt hit me.
“That was for your impertinence,” said the man who hit me, as he got down from his horse. As soon as he did, he kicked me. “And this is for asking too many questions!”
This was too much. I rolled away and stood up, drawing my sword. “I have no fight with you, my friend. But there is no reason to keep hitting me.”
This got all eight of them to get off their horses in a hurry and draw their swords. These weapons looked rather thin, and barely passed as swords in terms of their width, but seemed sharp and pointy. They looked like long, thick needles. I had to be careful. Here I was, just out of the woods, and I was suddenly facing eight armed men.
“There is no need for you to harass this poor boy,” said a voice from behind me. I turned to see the first rider stand behind me, still on his horse.
“He seems to be high on courage… Something that is missing from you eight,” he continued as he too got off his horse.
“So you decided to turn yourself in? I am glad you came to your senses,” said the man who first asked me the question. He seemed to be in charge.
“Wouldn’t you love that? The two-bit captain of a Morgenian village unit who captured a fearsome criminal, convicted of crimes against the Valantian Imperium. I am afraid it is not your lucky day. I would have outrun you fools, and spared your lives. That would have been lucky for you. But when you decided to vent your petty anger on this boy, your luck ran out.”
As he moved ahead, the eight of them started slowly moving back. The man slowly drew two swords from his back, swung each around a couple of times, as if stretching. He was a large, well-built man. He seemed like a smaller version of Grim, but he had no beard or moustache. He had short spiky, unkempt hair, and part of his face covered by some cloth, which seemed a part of his shirt.
“Last chance, soldiers!” he said mockingly. “You have two options… You can choose to run back to village and tell everyone that you lost me in the woods and I promise that I wouldn’t tell anyone otherwise. I even promise that I’ll ensure that this young man wouldn’t tell anyone. You wouldn’t tell anyone would you?”
I wasn’t completely sure what this man wanted me to do, but I vigorously shook my head. Anything to avoid unnecessary conflict and bloodshed.
“See, he wouldn’t tell anyone,” continued the man in a mocking tone, which changed to a serious tone with his following sentence.
“But if you don’t choose to go back, I would have to make sure none of you are able to return.”
This last statement drew angry reactions from the soldiers. “You really think you can take us on!” shouted the captain, “Men, capture this man, dead or alive! We can deal with the idiot later!”
Saying this the eight men charged. The man kept swinging his swords around casually as they came. Then, in a flash, he threw the swords at two of the men, which cut right through their chests, pushing those two men back. As the others swung their swords at him, with four of them slashing at him and two stabbing, he dropped to his knees avoiding all the blades and then pushed his body back while jumping, moving a few feet back from the soldiers. Before the soldiers had time to react to his attack or movements, he drew two more swords from each hip and threw them at the soldiers. Two of the got stabbed in their throat while two others managed to move, getting hit on their shoulders.
Within five seconds, the man had killed four of the soldiers and maimed two more. I was stunned. This was the second time in the last two months I was witnessing a fatal fight. The two remaining soldiers, having ducked out of the way of the swords thrown at others were not sure what to do. Then they saw as I did, that he did not have any more swords with him. Sure of their advantage, they charged again, slashing him at different points so that he couldn’t avoid the attack.
I couldn’t stand back and let them kill an unarmed man. I wasn’t going to be a helpless spectator in this fight as well. So, I moved forward and swung my gloved hand at the soldier closest to me. As I punched the solider with my now well-trained hand, I saw the hunted man pivot on his left foot, swing his left hand and punch the other soldier right in the face, as he sidestepped the sword swing from both soldiers. Both of them went down almost at the same time, which surprised the “criminal.”
“That was one hell of a punch,” he told me, as he saw what I did to the solider.
He bent down to inspect the fallen soldier. I had knocked him unconscious, and possibly broken his jaw.
“You are not half bad, village boy,” he continued.
I was quite surprised myself. I had trained myself quite hard, but I didn’t think it would be this easy to knock out a grown man, who seemed to have had some military training. As I stood there, the man moved towards the two people who were stabbed through their shoulders, who were slowly trying to retreat, clearly in a lot of pain.
“What are you going to do with them?” I asked, as I moved towards them as well. I had to stop him if he was to kill those defenseless men. I raised my sword at him.
He turned around with a smile. “Rel
ax, my friend. I am not going to kill them if that’s what you think.” He turned back, and pulled his swords out of their bodies. They both screamed out in pain. It was unpleasant experience for me. The man continued to talk to me.
“I avoid killing if I can. But with eight men charging at me, it was either me or them. I am just going to treat the wounds of these men, tie them up with the others who are alive, and leave them here. Does that work with you champ?”
“But wouldn’t leaving these men with such grievous wounds here in the middle of nowhere would mean they will die here right? No, that does not work for me….”
He seemed a little surprised. “You do realize these men were ready to kill you, right? Anyway, you clearly seem to be unaware of the standard Morgenian protocols. If these men don’t communicate their daily status report to their district headquarters, district will wait for twelve hours before they send a team to investigate. Those guys will search, and eventually find these soldiers. They can survive till then… I’ll make sure of that. Is that alright, righteous man?”
He seemed to be an honest and fair man. “Of course,” I replied, “I just don’t want any blood on my hands, and leaving two wounded men tied up seemed like a way to do just that. You clearly know better, so apologies for interruption.”
The man turned, smiled again, gave me a short mocking bow, and sat down to tend to those men. The soldiers were still writhing in pain, with a lot of blood coming out of their wounds. He took out some powder from a pouch on his back. He then made both the soldiers lie down and pressed their wounds with the powder. They both screamed in agony and passed out, seemingly from the pain. I wanted to say something, but then he lifted his hands to show me what he had done and I could see that the bleeding had stopped.
He gave me a quick explanation. “This powder helps burn wounded flesh, which closes the wounds, stops the bleeding.” Sure enough, their skin looked like it had been burned.
Age of Azmoq_The Valantian Imperium Page 11
