Story's End, Legend's Beginning (Solo)
Dec 4, 2015 17:10:51 GMT -6
Post by Vincent on Dec 4, 2015 17:10:51 GMT -6
In the middle of the white swirling storm stood a lone sentinel, ever vigilant. A tattered and old cloak was wrapped closely to his body, the howling winds flapping it about. His hood covered his face and on he watched over the people of Solune as they worked. The colony project was almost complete, it would be time to return home soon. How long had he been away now? Approaching seven months if his math was any good. The young man smiled despite his circumstances, the high tower watch was the least desirable post, yet he relished it. The solitude did him good and made him ever fonder of the mercenaries he had teamed up with.
No one had spoken of it but he knew; Vincent had met his father on this trip and he had given him his inheritance. There would be no land or riches for him, only necessities to survive. He reforged him, from iron and into the hardest of steels. He had never been stronger, never been faster, nor as skilled with a blade. His crude and rough improvisational fighting was born anew, he could now best anyone among the mercenaries except of course Davian himself.
Phoenix Heart’s power had awakened to heed his call. It was not realized in full yet, but calling upon flames was no longer beyond him. Lavinia taught him to read and to write, and he practiced his new skills at every opportunity, writing letters for his return and a list, a most important of lists that would be his new journey. Upon his list were names of people he knew, be it in passing or friends. Many were names of no renown but others were people none could live without hearing. It was a list of the people he must defeat in a duel.
He became stronger for a purpose, to bring down Burt and save him from his living hell, no, not that, not after he had begun anyway. Vincent became stronger for himself, this journey was the first time he ever lived and acted in his own interest. No more were the days of traveling to keep others safe, or avenging a friend. It was time to find his own way in the world, and that begins with becoming the strongest man in Elibe.
He reflected on his previous battles and training; from the very beginning it was Near that was his first ever opponent. He scarred his hand and later taught him tricks of the assassins. He was nowhere nearly as skilled in such manners of combat but he knew enough to counter it and use it if need be, though he was rusty if never very skilled at it. Then there was Baako and the group that lead him. If Baako was still around he would very much like to see how he had grown, but inside Vincent still could not stomach the idea of Borgus walking around with his head held high. He would bring him and his gang down.
It was about that time that he met Burt and Liror. It was such a strange encounter in the middle of the Sacae fields. It led to his finding and owning Phoenix Heart and being spoken to by a sword. Ever since the blade stopped judging his worth its voice had fallen silent. In a way he missed it evaluating him and spurring him forth, but just as well it was better like this.
Illia was a place of change for him. He met Neal and obtained his forehead scar; eventually ridding himself of his ponytail and taking on a headband. Vincent subconsciously felt his left ear and chuckled to himself. He thought he had done away with piercings but being on a ship for months changed that, and there sat a small hooped ring of blackened metal. In fact, he had changed a lot over the last seven months. His muscles were no longer just toned, they had become impressive due to all his hard work and training. His hair was down to his collar and his face growing harder. His tolerance for alcohol had changed as well, now he could drink with the best of them.
He leaned on a rail lost in thought with his head in his hands and a smile on his face. He was happy again, for the first time since he began his journey nearly two years ago. “Maybe I’ll start a mercenary troupe all of my own.” He mused. “But what should I call it? The Phoenix Brigade? No, that is far too redundant.” Vincent shrugged and decided to ponder it another time. Suddenly he heard shouting.
“Vincent! Come quick! It is finally done! They finished the tunnel!” It was Lavinia. At her call Vincent speedily grabbed the ladder and slide down to the snow covered ground.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” Vincent took off in a sprint and headed up the mountain road. With the tunnel completed that meant it was time for them to head home. The trade route could finally be opened and Illia would have a new supply of mineral resources. Lavinia was not far behind Vincent as they approached the completed project.
“It’s a beautiful bit of work isn’t it?” Davian remarked.
“It is indeed.” Vincent agreed.
“It’s been a real long trip, and you were a real pain kid, but tomorrow we head back home. There is room on the ship for ya, but if you want to take the land route I won’t stop you.”
“Is this your way of saying you’ll miss me?” Vincent teased.
“If it is? Be grateful.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The two laughed.
“You know, we never did settle that last match with a tie. How about we do so before you take off?” Davian wanted one last duel. It was not like him to ask for it but maybe he wanted to see if Vincent could finally outdo him.
Vincent wanted to battle with him but he declined, “No, not yet. When I am closer to achieving my goal I will fight you then. After all, you are on my list of warriors to defeat.”
“You’re really going for it? You know you’ll never be the strongest in the world, it’s impossible. No matter how far you go, there is always someone in the way, and then you get old.”
“Maybe, but I’ve fought alongside legends. I’ve witnessed their power first hand. It’s a whole other plane of existence from the one we live on. Magic weapons, returning from the dead and leading an army that rallies just by your name. They are all heroes and villains that will be spoken of for ages to come.”
“Then what of you Heelcutter? Going to join them?”
“No,” Vincent smiled a wicked grin. “I’m going to tear them all down one by one.”
Davian had never seen this side of Vincent. There was passion in his eyes and conviction to a goal. “Just don’t get yourself killed. You have yet to really live.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to go on a killing spree, I merely wish to best them in combat.”
“The way you duel is there a difference?”
Vincent looked at Davian with a false offense. “Well, pardon me.”
“Say you do become the best, then what? You just going to keep batting off challengers until you yourself are bested? It’s a noble goal but it seems so empty at the end.”
Vincent could only agree, but it was not important to be strong for the sake of being strong. “I want to become the best because that is what Elibe needs. Right now, back home, everyone is fighting a war. Every country is in conflict and all I can do is watch, or go fight and watch men die all around me. If I become stronger I can end the conflict. We need a uniter.”
“So you want to conquer the known world?”
Vincent shook his head, Davian just wasn’t getting it. “I don’t want to conquer. I want to be a Hero. Like the greats of old. They established peace in their time when all was chaos. I want to do the same.” Vincent felt a hand on his shoulder.
“When you dream, you dream big. I thought you were finally going to live for yourself though.” Davian seemed disappointed.
Vincent was taken aback. What did he mean? This was him living for himself. What greater ambition than to become a hero and a great uniter?
“Well,” Davian began, “If you’re going to become the great uniter, allow me to give you a few tips. 1. You can’t do that alone. You need people to help you. Even if you are the strongest alive you will fall alone. 2. Pick a good woman. Women are a weakness of man’s and the wrong one will devour your being, but the right one will bring you up and make you stronger than you ever thought possible. 3. Keep your sword sharp and your wits sharper. Lastly… live a good life, and stay true to yourself. You are a kind hearted man but I’ve seen the spark of a terrifying berserker in you. You hold it back well but should you let it go… I hope for Elibe’s sake you are brought down quickly.”
A berserker? Unsure of what to make of it Vincent quietly focused on the tunnel again. His father’s words would remain with him for years to come. Perhaps he was right. There were times that he nearly lost all control with rage, but each time he was calmed or humbled. Instinctively he touched his headband.
“Let that always serve as a reminder of what losing control means. Let the scar on your eye remind you what it costs to live for revenge. At the end of the road is nothing but pain and despair.”
“This farewell just got a bit heavy handed don’t you think?” Vincent laughed.
“A little, but, there is only so much time to say a lot.”
“Then, let me say the rest of it.” Holding out his hand Vincent spoke. “I know who you are, and I just want to say, I hated you for leaving but I finally understand why. You always sent money but could never show up in Etruria yourself. So… thank you, Dad.” Davian lowered his head to hide his face. Did he strike a nerve?
“Yeah, you’re welcome kid.” Taking Vincent’s hand the two shook before Vincent headed off down the tunnel through the mountain. He never looked back, not even once. His journey took him through many of the places he visited as a novice and beginning mercenary, until he came to his journey’s end. A place he could call home. Upon the plains of Sacae, to a city that could be seen from miles away he came to a small modest house. Inside was not much to speak of, a table and two chairs. Gifts for all new residents after the siege. He was ready to give this place a real touch up.
“This is where my story ends; and my legend begins.”
[End Thread]
No one had spoken of it but he knew; Vincent had met his father on this trip and he had given him his inheritance. There would be no land or riches for him, only necessities to survive. He reforged him, from iron and into the hardest of steels. He had never been stronger, never been faster, nor as skilled with a blade. His crude and rough improvisational fighting was born anew, he could now best anyone among the mercenaries except of course Davian himself.
Phoenix Heart’s power had awakened to heed his call. It was not realized in full yet, but calling upon flames was no longer beyond him. Lavinia taught him to read and to write, and he practiced his new skills at every opportunity, writing letters for his return and a list, a most important of lists that would be his new journey. Upon his list were names of people he knew, be it in passing or friends. Many were names of no renown but others were people none could live without hearing. It was a list of the people he must defeat in a duel.
He became stronger for a purpose, to bring down Burt and save him from his living hell, no, not that, not after he had begun anyway. Vincent became stronger for himself, this journey was the first time he ever lived and acted in his own interest. No more were the days of traveling to keep others safe, or avenging a friend. It was time to find his own way in the world, and that begins with becoming the strongest man in Elibe.
He reflected on his previous battles and training; from the very beginning it was Near that was his first ever opponent. He scarred his hand and later taught him tricks of the assassins. He was nowhere nearly as skilled in such manners of combat but he knew enough to counter it and use it if need be, though he was rusty if never very skilled at it. Then there was Baako and the group that lead him. If Baako was still around he would very much like to see how he had grown, but inside Vincent still could not stomach the idea of Borgus walking around with his head held high. He would bring him and his gang down.
It was about that time that he met Burt and Liror. It was such a strange encounter in the middle of the Sacae fields. It led to his finding and owning Phoenix Heart and being spoken to by a sword. Ever since the blade stopped judging his worth its voice had fallen silent. In a way he missed it evaluating him and spurring him forth, but just as well it was better like this.
Illia was a place of change for him. He met Neal and obtained his forehead scar; eventually ridding himself of his ponytail and taking on a headband. Vincent subconsciously felt his left ear and chuckled to himself. He thought he had done away with piercings but being on a ship for months changed that, and there sat a small hooped ring of blackened metal. In fact, he had changed a lot over the last seven months. His muscles were no longer just toned, they had become impressive due to all his hard work and training. His hair was down to his collar and his face growing harder. His tolerance for alcohol had changed as well, now he could drink with the best of them.
He leaned on a rail lost in thought with his head in his hands and a smile on his face. He was happy again, for the first time since he began his journey nearly two years ago. “Maybe I’ll start a mercenary troupe all of my own.” He mused. “But what should I call it? The Phoenix Brigade? No, that is far too redundant.” Vincent shrugged and decided to ponder it another time. Suddenly he heard shouting.
“Vincent! Come quick! It is finally done! They finished the tunnel!” It was Lavinia. At her call Vincent speedily grabbed the ladder and slide down to the snow covered ground.
“What are we waiting for? Let’s get going!” Vincent took off in a sprint and headed up the mountain road. With the tunnel completed that meant it was time for them to head home. The trade route could finally be opened and Illia would have a new supply of mineral resources. Lavinia was not far behind Vincent as they approached the completed project.
“It’s a beautiful bit of work isn’t it?” Davian remarked.
“It is indeed.” Vincent agreed.
“It’s been a real long trip, and you were a real pain kid, but tomorrow we head back home. There is room on the ship for ya, but if you want to take the land route I won’t stop you.”
“Is this your way of saying you’ll miss me?” Vincent teased.
“If it is? Be grateful.”
“Yeah, yeah.” The two laughed.
“You know, we never did settle that last match with a tie. How about we do so before you take off?” Davian wanted one last duel. It was not like him to ask for it but maybe he wanted to see if Vincent could finally outdo him.
Vincent wanted to battle with him but he declined, “No, not yet. When I am closer to achieving my goal I will fight you then. After all, you are on my list of warriors to defeat.”
“You’re really going for it? You know you’ll never be the strongest in the world, it’s impossible. No matter how far you go, there is always someone in the way, and then you get old.”
“Maybe, but I’ve fought alongside legends. I’ve witnessed their power first hand. It’s a whole other plane of existence from the one we live on. Magic weapons, returning from the dead and leading an army that rallies just by your name. They are all heroes and villains that will be spoken of for ages to come.”
“Then what of you Heelcutter? Going to join them?”
“No,” Vincent smiled a wicked grin. “I’m going to tear them all down one by one.”
Davian had never seen this side of Vincent. There was passion in his eyes and conviction to a goal. “Just don’t get yourself killed. You have yet to really live.”
“Don’t worry. I don’t want to go on a killing spree, I merely wish to best them in combat.”
“The way you duel is there a difference?”
Vincent looked at Davian with a false offense. “Well, pardon me.”
“Say you do become the best, then what? You just going to keep batting off challengers until you yourself are bested? It’s a noble goal but it seems so empty at the end.”
Vincent could only agree, but it was not important to be strong for the sake of being strong. “I want to become the best because that is what Elibe needs. Right now, back home, everyone is fighting a war. Every country is in conflict and all I can do is watch, or go fight and watch men die all around me. If I become stronger I can end the conflict. We need a uniter.”
“So you want to conquer the known world?”
Vincent shook his head, Davian just wasn’t getting it. “I don’t want to conquer. I want to be a Hero. Like the greats of old. They established peace in their time when all was chaos. I want to do the same.” Vincent felt a hand on his shoulder.
“When you dream, you dream big. I thought you were finally going to live for yourself though.” Davian seemed disappointed.
Vincent was taken aback. What did he mean? This was him living for himself. What greater ambition than to become a hero and a great uniter?
“Well,” Davian began, “If you’re going to become the great uniter, allow me to give you a few tips. 1. You can’t do that alone. You need people to help you. Even if you are the strongest alive you will fall alone. 2. Pick a good woman. Women are a weakness of man’s and the wrong one will devour your being, but the right one will bring you up and make you stronger than you ever thought possible. 3. Keep your sword sharp and your wits sharper. Lastly… live a good life, and stay true to yourself. You are a kind hearted man but I’ve seen the spark of a terrifying berserker in you. You hold it back well but should you let it go… I hope for Elibe’s sake you are brought down quickly.”
A berserker? Unsure of what to make of it Vincent quietly focused on the tunnel again. His father’s words would remain with him for years to come. Perhaps he was right. There were times that he nearly lost all control with rage, but each time he was calmed or humbled. Instinctively he touched his headband.
“Let that always serve as a reminder of what losing control means. Let the scar on your eye remind you what it costs to live for revenge. At the end of the road is nothing but pain and despair.”
“This farewell just got a bit heavy handed don’t you think?” Vincent laughed.
“A little, but, there is only so much time to say a lot.”
“Then, let me say the rest of it.” Holding out his hand Vincent spoke. “I know who you are, and I just want to say, I hated you for leaving but I finally understand why. You always sent money but could never show up in Etruria yourself. So… thank you, Dad.” Davian lowered his head to hide his face. Did he strike a nerve?
“Yeah, you’re welcome kid.” Taking Vincent’s hand the two shook before Vincent headed off down the tunnel through the mountain. He never looked back, not even once. His journey took him through many of the places he visited as a novice and beginning mercenary, until he came to his journey’s end. A place he could call home. Upon the plains of Sacae, to a city that could be seen from miles away he came to a small modest house. Inside was not much to speak of, a table and two chairs. Gifts for all new residents after the siege. He was ready to give this place a real touch up.
“This is where my story ends; and my legend begins.”
[End Thread]