The Return pt.06
Days had passed since Lucien left his home in Syrndharas to rescue his Morrigan and with each step the barren ground crunched beneath his feet. In the lands of Arlorne there was no green, there was no color, all things that grew from the ground were choked out and destroyed by the clouds above. The only signs of what once grew were the long dead remnants of stumps and shrubs. The beautiful plains of this once bountiful land long turned into wasteland by the many enemies of Lucien.
With each heavy step Lucien took he was reminded by the sight of his destroyed homeland around him of the blood that had soaked the land for centuries and the weight of not only the crowns he left in Talia’s care but the weight of the armor he wore. For the first time in his long life his mind thought to the expectations he took upon himself when he turned the centuries old, heavy, ceremonial, black armor of the king, that no human could wear without being mounted, into his personal war armor.
But it was not only the expectations he took upon himself that began to cloud his mind. The guilt he felt for letting his homeland be destroyed and thoughts of the thousands of loyal men and women killed came to him and he began to feel doubts creep into his mind. The weight of his past would be too much for most to handle and it had haunted him now for over eight centuries, but he was not going to allow it all restrain him now. He could deal with it all later, for now he had to rescue Morrigan, and he was going to once more soak the land in blood to do so.
As he moved across his lands, Lucien’s mind continued to be flooded with all manners of these thoughts. But as he neared the border, he could finally see the green of the world and the light of the sun in the distance. And as he laid eyes upon both of these things for the first time in centuries, those distracting thoughts fled from his mind.
His mind now free of those intrusive and distracting thoughts, Lucien continued forward until stopping in his tracks. The first warm breeze he had felt in such a long time had finally brushed across the skin of his face and through the links of mail in his armor causing him to smile.
For a time he stood there basking in Panno’s grace, relishing in the wind she ruled over as his long dark hair fluttered lightly behind him and the scraggly beard on his face warmed by the breeze’s touch. The remnants of his long rotten cloak seemed to disintegrate at the touch of Panno’s grace.
Unlike his cloak, Lucien’s mind grew stronger in the warm breeze as it reminded him of the many joys he experienced in life. One of those joys, a certain smile he had ignored for two decades now, settled in his mind and ingrained in him the goals he had for this new war of his.
With his mind now settled on what was to be done, Lucien could no longer stay still and continued towards the borders of his lands. With each step he took the warm breeze gently embraced him, the green of the land got closer and the light became brighter and harsher. And before long he stood at the border of his land.
Looking around Lucien saw the vast green land in front of him and the dead wasteland behind him. As he stood there, however, something caught his eye, and he looked over to the edge of the forest ahead of him and saw a crumbling castle made of stone. The castle was being reclaimed by the forest itself, and Lucien understood the original purpose of this abandoned creation of man.
That castle was there to watch for the return of his armies in hopes to allow the human armies of the west to be gathered before his made it too deep into their lands. With a newfound grin Lucien said to himself “Pathetic humans. Cannot even outlast a corpse on his throne.”
In the two hundred years following his homeland’s destruction, Lucien waged a massive continent spanning war of destruction like none other. All his wars prior were, in his own words, waged to protect the Dharan people from outside threats, revenge for the death of his father and to unify the different Dharan states under one rule. But, he had developed and grown a taste, a hunger, for conquest. His final war, however, was purely for the sakes of vengeance and mass destruction
During this final war Lucien would raze everything on Rylocke that was not part of Arlorne or the Immortal Realms in the eastern valley. Humanity on Rylocke, outside of these lands, barely survived possible extinction during the great terror he and his armies unleashed. Now the surviving remnants of their fear of his return stared back at him.
Looking at the remnants of their fear, Lucien’s mind thought back to that age when the land around him had been soaked in the blood of his enemies and allies alike. His reign had been marked but such acts since the blood of his father and older brother had stained the land. He would then watch as the blood of some of his greatest friends and allies stained the land as well. And even the time when his very own blood had stained the land before he was chosen and saved from death by the Dark God of War Moriena himself.
But he could not stand here reminiscing and wallowing in his own thoughts for any longer. He had to move forward to rescue Morrigan. And so he raised his hand and declared his return in a way that seemed fitting to him. With but a few words of an ancient tongue, Lucien called forth magic that sent the remaining stones of the castle flying into the air in a mighty explosion. The land around where the castle had been now burned as stone rained down all around.
And with this declaration of war Lucien took his first steps outside of his homeland in over eight centuries.
With each step grass crumbled beneath his heavy boots as the wind continued to lightly blow his hair behind him. The smell of a living environment mixed with the smell caused by the castle’s destruction was a familiar and overwhelming stench, but Lucien pressed on through the small open field before entering the lush green forest that was far younger than him.
Inside the forest the smell of destruction was almost unnoticeable as the wind carried it eastward, but Lucien’s guard nevertheless quickly went up. Forests were regarded by Dharans as the prime hunting grounds of Draekia’s wolves and much like Panno’s horses, Lucien did not enjoy being in them. More so in knowing that Draekia was now free because of his own actions.
Following the overgrown remnants of a road that once allowed the Dharans to dominate in trade and conquest, Lucien’s hand rested on the hilt of his sword, ready for whatever fight was to come.
Moving through the forest Lucien begins to struggle with the light from the sun. After so many centuries without being exposed to it, he was no longer used to it, and it affected him greatly. He felt weaker than he did beneath the clouds of Arlorne and rather exhausted now that he was exerting himself a little. But he continued to press on, sticking to the shadows of the forest as much as he possibly could. All he would need to feel more like himself and to keep moving forward would be several rather large meals.
As the day moved on and the sound of moving water came to Lucien’s ears, he realized something important that he had overlooked, he did not know the way to Salver. He had not bothered to ask in his fury nor did anyone volunteer the information. The count and his men were too terrified, and his servants were made busy by his own orders.
Under his breath he cursed himself for his own mistake. Now he knew he would have to find a village near the river if he wanted to find his way to Salver. The problem was which side of the river he should look at and whether he should go upstream or downstream.
Nearing the river itself Lucien stopped walking and looked around him. Ahead was a rather large wooden bridge over the river with a group of armed men on the other side and thick forest all around. Despite not recognizing the land around him, as there were vast differences between his memory and the current landscape, Lucien had a general idea of where he was. The river after all, had not changed much since he last crossed it, aside from growing wider.
Having a general idea of where he now found himself, Lucien continued forward towards the bridge. His eyes were focused on the men ahead of him and as he neared the bridge he watched as the group began to move onto it. Clearly, they were bandits looking to take advantage of any travelers, but Lucien did not mind. While he hoped they would peacefully tell him the way to Salver, he held no expectations of such and did his best to hide his smile. The smell of blood was strong on these men even from this distance and a part of Lucien looked forward to what was likely to come.
Lucien stopped on the bridge well outside the reach of the bandits’ weapons but close enough to speak as the bandit leader stepped forward from his men while looking Lucien over.
“Where did you come from warrior?”
Lucien did not answer and quietly looked at the man speaking to him. His eyes had already taken in the weapons, armor and numbers against him, leaving him unimpressed or concerned.
Annoyed by the silence and the dark eyes inspecting him, the bandit leader continued speaking “Doesn’t matter then. You still have to pay the toll to cross this bridge. But since I’m willing to bet you were not aware of that, I’m willing to be charitable.”
A smile came across the bandit’s face as he thought for a moment before continuing “I’ll give you a slight discount and only ask for three quarters of the normal toll. Say about fifty pulsern and you can cross.”
Pulsern was a currency unfamiliar to Lucien and must have been the local kingdom’s mint, but Lucien was little concerned with the bandits before him; though he was a little surprised to see that bandits were still the same as always.
The silence hung in the air for some time before the bandit leader spoke up again, asking “Do you understand me at all? Why don’t you say anything? Are you in shock?”
Further annoyed by Lucien’s silence, the bandit leader began fumbling through similar questions in the few other languages he knew before Lucien finally spoke up in the original Dharan tongue “Can you tell me which way to Salver?”
Only one word was understood by the bandits, Salver. One of the men behind the bandit leader asked “What language is he speaking? I’ve never heard it before.”
The leader shrugged his shoulders as he answered “He must be a foreigner from beyond the wastelands. I heard they speak strange languages there. Looking at his armor I’m willing to be he doesn’t have enough for us.”
Despite the bandits speaking in a manner meant to allow only them to hear what was being said, Lucien heard it all, including their plans to kill him. He then surprised them by speaking the common tongue they were, which he had helped spread over a millennia ago “Which way to Salver and speak quickly?”
Every bandit looked at him in surprise as the leader smiled widely “So you could understand me. I should charge you an extra fine for how you’re acting but I’ll let you off as long as you pay the full toll instead of the discounted price now.”
“Last chance to tell me which way is Salver.”
The bandit leader was angered by this and said in a near snarl “What gives you the right to order us around? You’re just an unknown soul acting like he’s a gift from the gods. All you had to do was pay the toll and you could have gone freely with an extra price paid for directions to Salver.”
Lucien stared down at the approaching bandit leader, who was shorter than him, and told him “Insignificant little insects such as you should know when to kneel to their betters and answer their questions when asked. Especially when they are royalty. I see I am going to have to teach you a lesson that your soul will not soon forget.”
Loud, boisterous laughter came from the group of bandits as they began mocking and ridiculing Lucien and his claims.
“He thinks he’s royalty.”
“This bastard must have lost his mind if he’s claiming to be royalty.”
“He’s daft if he thinks we’ll listen to his command.”
The bandit leader steps closer while drawing his sword “There you have it. We’ll just have to collect the toll from your corpse. But don’t worry, royal, we’ll toss your body into the river of leaving it to the forest beasts.”
Lucien stares down at the bandit leader before him and calmly takes off the belt holding the sheath of his sword. While stepping over to the railing of the bridge Lucien tells them “I gave you enough chances to live. Now you will learn what real power looks like.”
Laughter erupts once more as even the bandit leader joins in. “We have sixteen men, and you just put your sword down. How do you think you can win this fight?”
Lucien looks over his right shoulder to the bandit leader and says “I will not be needing a weapon to kill you. Sixteen bandits is hardly a fight, and you are not worth drawing my sword over.” His smile could no longer be contained.
Insulted by what he feels is arrogance, the bandit leader attacks first with his sword. His skill with the blade was obvious by the first move being a feint. Lucien accepts the feint and reacts how the bandit leader wants him to, only to surprise the attacking bandit when he easily slips the main thrust.
Suddenly a horrendous crack is heard alongside the sounds of metal crumpling beneath massive force. Screams of agony erupt from the bandit leader’s mouth as Lucien tightly holds onto the man’s right wrist, crushing it and the metal bracer in his grip. “Your armor is of low quality if I can crush it this easily.”
More cracks are heard as Lucien breaks the bandit’s arm in the same grip and forces the man to kneel before him, using only his left hand. “I told you, you should know when to kneel before your betters. Now you understand why.”
Even in tremendous pain and an inescapable grasp, the bandit leader tries resisting by pulling out his dagger using his left hand and thrusting it towards Lucien’s groin. Lucien’s right hand shoots out and grabs the bandit’s left wrist and not only crushes it and the bracer once again, but he easily ripped the shoulder and elbow out of place with very little effort. More screams erupt from the bandit as the others hesitantly begin surrounding Lucien.
The laughter and confidence had now disappeared from the bandits, replaced by fear as they stare at Lucien while breathing heavily. Lucien’s smile was now obvious to all, giving him the appearance of a bloodthirsty monster as he releases the bandit leader’s wrists and grabs him by the throat instead.
Everyone watches as Lucien easily lifts the man into the air by his throat with a single hand. While squeezing the life from the man, Lucien looks to those surrounding him and states “As King of Arlorne and Chieftain of the Dharan People, I, King Lucien Salvatal the Third, with the divine power granted to me by the gods Panno and Moriena hereby decree, that all of you bandits shall be put to death for your crimes.”
Then with his crooked, wicked smile Lucien leans his head back and arrogantly looks at several of them “If you wish to live for a bit longer I would suggest you all attack me at once. Or you could just cut your own throats.”
Not one bandit dared to move as they were consumed by terror. They all watched helplessly as their leader struggled valiantly against Lucien, kicking and swingout out with his destroyed arms in desperate attempts to hurt the monster squeezing his life from him. As he continued squeezing the life from the bandit, Lucien remarked to the others “Consider yourselves fortunate that I do not have time to craft stakes. I much prefer and enjoy impalement to others.”
When he finally turned his body to face the other bandits they saw Lucien’s wicked grin in its full glory. One of the bandits then speaks up “You’re a vampire from the immortal realms in the east.”
With a shake of his head Lucien corrects him “Do not compare me to those abominations you humans call vampires. I am an upír, a creation and child of Moriena himself. And I am not from the Immortal Kingdoms. My homeland is the wastelands in-between the human realms and the Immortal Kingdoms.”
“We can’t kill’em.”
“Can’t run either.”
All of the bandits now realize just what horror they unleashed upon themselves. It was far too late to try and reason with Lucien and they knew it. If only they could have sensed what type of terrible monster he was before they tried to rob him. But now it was time for them to reap just what they had sowed.
With those thoughts many of the bandits tried resisting while others dropped their weapons to flee. Lucien was all too eager now to engage them in their destruction.
Quickly Lucien displays his great skills and abilities as he proves to be more than the group of bandits could handle. Even in his weakened state he was far superior to them in every conceivable way and proved himself a master of his craft and quickly broke their encirclement to chase down those fleeing this nightmare.
Those that had fled were quickly broken before Lucien returned his attention towards those wanting to fight. Having broken their encirclement, they were easily dispatched one by one, two by two, and in whatever other combination they tried him with.
At the end Lucien gathered the coin pouches the dead had graciously left him before leaving the dead lining the bridge and nearby riverbanks. The terror caused by Lucien left a permanent echo that would haunt them in the afterlife. And as he resumed his journey, Lucien realized that if bandits were conducting their racket here then there had to be a village nearby and that meant someone who knew the way to Salver.
Without needing to rush Lucien proceeded forward down the same road he had been following for a month now. He continued down this road until nightfall when he finally came across a small village.
Upon entering the village Lucien found it quiet and mostly empty, the few villagers that he could see looked at him judgingly. Clearly he stood out amongst everyone here with his armor and his height towering over most of them with ease. The blood staining his armor was unseen in the limited light and he was unsure if it would have made things better or worse for him.
In the middle of the village Lucien found a tavern that appeared busy but given the small number of people he had seen so far, it was most certainly filled with very few people. As he approached the smells of tavern food and drink filled his nose but the sounds from inside were quiet, with few voices reaching him. But he needed information and this was the best place he had access to.
Entering the tavern Lucien was greeted by the warm air and stares from all but one person. That one person was a beautiful red-headed woman at the back of the room next to the tavern bar. Lucien’s eyes fixed themselves on her as old urges and feelings came to the forefront of his mind causing him to smile.
Her read hair was the color of rubies and the peasant clothing she wore seemed to radiate as if they were noble garments. As Lucien continued to look at her, she seemed to notice and looked over to him with a charming nearly seductive smile. Her eyes seemed to have been set with dark garnets that very much tempted Lucien to make her his own personal jewel.
But all of that would have to wait as Lucien had more important business to attend to and so he approached her and sat down next to her at the bar.
“What brings you to this tiny little village in the middle of nowhere handsome?”
Lucien looked to her and that charming smile of hers as he answered “Directions to Salver. A duke there took something of mine and I want it back.”
Her eyes went wide as she hear Lucien speak for the first time and knew she would never hear a more handsome voice than his. She leaned onto her hand as she rests her arm on the bar and crossed her legs as she spoke back to Lucien in her own charming voice “Well, sounds like you might be after Duke Castellen then. He’s the only duke in Salver I can think of with a reputation for taking things. But if you’re going to him then you must not be aware of his reputation. Everyone around here knows better than to go after him.”
She then shifted in her seat as she continued “And judging by your accent you’re not from anywhere in the valley.”
With the shift in her seat, the woman had managed to make herself more appealing. The curve of her back caused the rest of her body to be accentuated as the glimmer in her eyes seemed to call for Lucien. Her lips were slightly parted allowing her to lightly chew on her right index finger.
In the past Lucien would no longer be talking to her, instead he would have been sharing a bed with her and he certainly felt the urge now. But the rescue of Morrigan was his principle thought and it could not be superseded.
“I am from the valley but not anywhere west of here. I am originally from Arlorne.”
Her eyes seemed to light up upon hearing this and her mind began racing. If he was not from west of here then that meant only one thing. “You must be from the immortal realm then. But I’ve never heard of Arlorne before, even from the occasional travelers who come through here from the east.”
Lucien smiled at her as the tavern keep walked up presenting a drink. Taking the drink Lucien quickly drinks most of it before setting the cup down. “That is because most do not wish to speak of Arlorne anymore.”
Curiosity came over her as she asks “Why?”
Sadness came over Lucien’s smile as he answered “It was mostly destroyed. Arlorne was once the center of the immortal’s power but was reduced to what most now call The Wastelands. Only those who are from Arlorne continue to refer to it as such.”
A realization came to her as she listened to him speak. This man before her was likely very dangerous to humans like her but she could not help but want to learn more about him. Her heart desired it, as had many others in the past.
“Oh. You’ll have to tell me about your homeland then. I’ve seen the clouds myself but beyond the darkness choking it I don’t know much about it.”
The woman had twisted her hips to better face Lucien as she spoke causing his eyes to drift down her body briefly as he spoke “I could tell you nearly everything about the thousands of years’ worth of history Alrorne and my people possess but I do not have time. I must get to Salver.”
A look of disappointment came over her as she said “I understand. But I would think someone as well read and young as you would know where Salver is.”
Lucien began laughing taking the woman by surprise. When he finally calmed himself he said to her “I mean no offense but it has been a very long time since I have been considered young.”
Leaning in closer the woman asks “How old are you then?”
“Something over twenty-five hundred years if I had to guess.”
Her beautiful garnet eyes went wide before saying “Just who are you? I’ve never heard of a creature your age before.”
A smile came across his bearded face “I am King Lucien Salvatal the Third, King of Arlorne, Chieftain of the Dharan People and at one time High Priest of Panno. As for my age that relates to what I am. I was originally human but after nearly being killed, Moriena saw fit to turn me into one of his children, an upír, saving my life. I have since been nigh immortal.”
At first hearing the dark god Moriena’s name sent fear coursing through her veins and clearly showed in her eyes but that did not last long. Something akin to desire grew in her as her heart felt more for him then before. But she would not speak as Lucien would ask “May I get your name?”
A flirty smile grew across her face as he asked for her name. Her senses had determined he was no threat to her life and so she answered “My name is Cyra your majesty.”
Lowering his head Lucien reached out and took her hand in his before bringing it up to his lips. He would lightly kiss the back of Cyra’s hand before telling her “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance Cyra. But please do not feel the need to refer to me by titles at the moment. We are simply two strangers talking to each other in a tavern.”
Cyra’s face would become nearly as red as her hair in the moment Lucien kissed her hand causing her to look away before meekly saying “I appreciate it…Lucien.”
A smile continued to stay on Lucien’s face as he let go of her hand and raised his head.
“What keeps a woman such as yourself here in a small village like this?”
Lucien was surprised by the heavy sigh escaping from Cyra as she leaned heavily onto the bar and began playing with her drink. “I can’t seem to leave this place no matter how hard I try. I always come back home.”
She then looked at him with an honest and joyful smile “I was born and raised here after all. I just can’t shake this place from me or my life.”
While looking down at the bar before him, Lucien lightly nodded his head in agreement as he tells her “I understand the feeling well. And I suspect most of my people still living in Arlorne feel the same way.”
Curiously she asks “What do you mean?”
His gaze would rise to the wall behind the bar as he answered “I have six servants still living with me in my home. All but one have gone off and explored Rylocke looking to find themselves but all returned, unable to truly call any other place home or someone else their lord.
“Aside from them I know of several villages with my people still living in them but I know not how many. I suspect the number is quite small though.”
He then looked to Cyra as he continued “As for me, I love my homeland too much to abandon it. I was born amongst the horses of the Dharas Plains and have never been able to shake the desire…well need to be home amongst the plains that surround the stone capital Syrndharas.”
Then with his gaze falling down to the bar once more, Lucien quietly said “No matter how far I traveled of how much I conquered.”
The doubts that haunted him had found him once more but he was quick to remember just why he was traveling across the land and lifted his head confidently, with a smile on his face.
Cyra was looking at him as she held out her cup for a toast “To similar minds then?”
Without needing to think Lucien lifted his cup and lightly tapped it against Cyra’s “To similar minds.”
Both drank what was left in their cups before she sat up in her seat while asking “How about those directions to Salver then?”
After asking that question Cyra would watch as Lucien’s eyes became narrow and deadly as he leaned onto the bar once more. His hand nearly broke the cup in his grip as he said with a serious and threatening tone “That will have to wait for a moment Cyra. It looks as if trouble has found me.”
As those words were said a large group of armed and armored men came crashing through the door with one shouting “Who in the six hells killed my men like that? Speak up now and I swear to make sure you don’t suffer for long.”
Cyra’s wide eyes immediately fall to Lucien, who did not move or acknowledge the group of bandits looking for him. Before, his handsome appearance and voice distracted her but now she realizes his armor is covered in dried blood and viscera.
The look Cyra was giving Lucien did not go unnoticed by the true leader of the bandits, who quickly approached Lucien while saying “So it was you. I’ll have your head for that.”
In the eyes of this bandit leader, Lucien was nothing more than a weak and sickly man in old rusted armor, who did not know which hand was meant to hold a sword. He was disgusted by what he saw while looking at Lucien and wondered just how someone like this was able to do such a thing to sixteen men.
“It’s not possible for you to have done that all yourself, so you need tell me where the rest of your men are.”
But the bandit leader was to be surprised more as when he reached for Lucien’s shoulder he found himself flying backwards towards his men. The other bandits were barely able to catch him as he came crashing into them as they watched Lucien stand from his seat to face them.
“You should have taken that display as your warning to stay away from me. Now you will join them.”
All eyes were no one Lucien as his display of strength was nothing short of amazing, to throw an armored man so far, so easily was certainly a sign and one the bandit leader was going to ignore. Shouting as he stands up the bandit leader tells Lucien “I have fifty men here. You will die tonight stranger. I swear that to all eight gods.”
A crooked grin came over Lucien’s face as he drew his dark sword with his right hand. “Fourteen gods, you pathetic scum. The rulers of the six hells are gods as well.”
He then stepped closer as he continued speaking with a brief flourish of his sword “I did not use my sword against those sixteen, but I will against you fifty. You will not see my best though. You are not worthy of my left hand.”
The dark blade in Lucien’s hand seemed to radiate murderous intent and bloodlust now that it was drawn. It was as if the sword itself was sentient and thirsting for the blood of its master’s enemies.
Scoffing at Lucien’s words, the bandit leader and his men drew their weapons as well. Yet none of them move just yet as they waited to see what Lucien would do first.
Cyra had stood up from her seat and placed her back against the wall as she watched what was happening. Lucien seemed larger than life now as he stood there with his weapon drawn. Neither she nor anyone else in the tavern had realized just how tall he was until now, as he towered over everyone there. The other four patrons of the tavern as well as the tavern keep froze in place as they watched and waited for the tension to break.
Lucien was the one to break that tension.
Making the first move Lucien quickly closed the short distance between him and the bandits, his quickness caching them off guard. The bandit leader did not let his surprise contain him as he swung his sword out for Lucien’s neck in response, but Lucien bobbed underneath the strike and weaved with a step to the left. With this step, Lucien brought his sword up through the man’s mailed arm, severing it in an instant. The sound of crushing metal and bone spread through the tavern as blood poured freely. But the leader’s screams were cut short as Lucien removed the bandit’s head.
Suddenly a collective survival instinct came over the group of bandits as they all tried attacking Lucien. But none could hope to hurt him as they were bunched up in the doorway and his quickness allowed him to easily dance around them, dispatching each bandit one by one with every stroke of his sword.
The chaos inside the tavern could be heard outside by the majority of the bandits but they did not know just what was happening. It was not until one of their comrades came flying backwards out of the tavern missing both of his arms, did they understand what was happening. Inside the doorway they could see the blood-soaked Lucien retracting his kick.
All stared at him as he cracked his neck and shoulders “Do not think you can flee from me. All you bandits will serve to restore my skills.”
Fear filled the bandits and shown in their eyes as Lucien resumed his quick and skillful attacks on the nearest bandit, immediately removing the man’s head before lunging towards the next man.
One by one the bandits fell to his blade. Those that tried fleeing the monster that was Lucien were either hit by a weapon thrown at them or one of his many magics. The smell of violent death filled the air, as screams of agony and fear echoed into the night. Quickly the village became a macabre sight for everyone one present.
As a bandit’s corpse collapsed to the ground Lucien heard whimpering and quickly turned to find a young surviving bandit attempting to crawl away. This young bandit was already missing a hand and one of his legs had been severely mangled, but he was still alive. Lucien walked over to him as the young man begged for his life and desperately tried crawling away.
“Please don’t kill me. I don’t want to die.”
Tears began falling from the young bandit’s eyes as he cried out to Lucien for mercy, but the old king had none as he stepped onto the man’s chest and held him still. Silently Lucien ended the bandit’s life with a thrust of his sword, cutting the bandit’s last words short.
Lucien quietly walks back to the village center where he finds a small crowd has gathered. He stops before them and speaks to them as he cleans his sword of flesh and blood “Take everything from these bandits. It is all rightfully yours now.”
Sheathing his sword Lucien walked back into the tavern where he found Cyra still standing against the wall next to her seat.
“Those directions please Cyra?”
Quickly and with a nod of her head, Cyra had the tavern keeper give her his map of Reval and unfolded it on the bar. Lucien stood next to her looking at the map with her as she began pointing out their location and motioned with her hand as she spoke “We’re here. Salver is over here. I would suggest following the main road west until you came across the road leading south. Then you should take the southern road towards Salver.”
Lucien does not understand this and points to the main road asking “Why? It is far quicker to follow the main road west. The road south is much longer and would take more time.”
“Because the main road west is haunted by various gangs and bandit groups. Not to mention those corrupt knights from Salver.”
Curious about this Lucien stops Cyra from saying more and asks “Why are there knights this far out not dealing with the gangs and bandits?”
A sigh escaped from Cyra before she looked up at Lucien, answering “That damned Duke Castellen you’re after, he established penal villages along the main road but it’s not just criminals. Anyone that the nobility of Salver don’t want in the city are sent there. The knights are just there to make sure none of the people sent to these villages makes it back to the city. Anything that happens there doesn’t matter.
“That’s why it’s safer to take the southern road. The gangs and the bandits don’t go there and those damned knights don’t usually frequent it, as the forest around it serves as a hunting ground for the king.”
Returning his gaze to the map, Lucien studies it for a moment before deciding against going south. “I will take the main road west. No knight or bandit can take me and I do not have the time to take the southern road.”
Another sigh escapes Cyra before she straightens herself out and looks into Lucien’s eyes “Fine Lucien. I can’t stop you and I’m sure I can’t convince you. I just hope whatever it is that the duke took from you is worth it.”
Lucien smiles as he nods his head saying “It is.”
Seeing his determination Cyra bites her bottom lip and leans in closer asking him “I suppose you need a bed to sleep in for the night?”
The smile on Lucien’s face grew wider as he gently moved her back away from him. “I would normally love to share a bed with a woman such as you, but I cannot spend more time here in your village. I must keep moving.”
He then lowered his head to her in a polite bow “But I am certain we will meet again in the future. You are a very much a woman I would venture towards this village to meet again and I will be sure to do so when the time is right. You have my word Cyra.”
Raising his head a little Lucien then added with a cheeky grin and tone in his voice “Or you could venture out into the wastes to come visit me in my home personally. I would make sure you had a royal welcome.”
Cyra’s face turned red once more as she looked at the bowing and blood soaked Lucien. Her head kept turning away in embarrassment but her eyes always stayed on him before she finally began to chuckle as she said “I’ll hold you to that Lucien and eagerly await the day. But I don’t think I’ll be crossing the wasteland any time soon.”
Standing himself up straight, Lucien smiled at Cyra and from behind his back he pulled out one of the many coin pouches he took from the first sixteen bandits. He holds it out to her as he tells her “Take it for your troubles. They certainly cannot use it anymore.”
While taking the heavy pouch in her hands Cyra bows to Lucien, saying to him “As you wish my lord.”
“I will hold you to that Cyra. I am quite a demanding lord.”
His teasing caused her to smile as she raised her head just to watch as he turned to leave. She then calls out to him “You’re the greatest man I’ve ever met Lucien. It’s only fitting that I call you lord.”
Not another word was said between them as she watched him disappear into the night from the tavern doorway before turning herself and walking back towards the bar.
The tavern keep stops cleaning up the mess left behind and walks up to her saying “I’ve never seen you act like this towards a man before Cyra. He must have stolen your heart?” He then mumbled under his breath “And brains.”
A brief chuckle came from her before she admitted, having not heard the tavern keep’s second comment “He might have. I’ve never met a man I couldn’t resist before.”
The tavern keep turned away with a “humph,” and returned to cleaning up his tavern as Cyra stepped out into the blood soaked roads of her village. With a smile she looked up to the stars before making her way home.
Lucien continued along the main road through the night. Thoughts of Cyra were burned into his memory and he intended to return to this small village for her eventually. But for now, Morrigan was more concerning and in need of his attention. Cyra would just have to wait before giving Lucien a taste.
