Chapter Text
"Magic is just an advanced form of autosuggestion. The runic language we use in chanting spells is the most efficient language to achieve that. It reforms the human subconscious so we can intervene with the principles of this world."
*******
The darkness in the gaping mouth of the cave glares back at Gerard, beckoning him to stay out if he cared for his life. He begs to differ.
"Pretty chilly, ain't it?" Remarks the man in ordinary villager clothes standing behind him. The forest around them is already cool; the cave breathes out cold air to them like a sleeping beast. "Ya better be careful. Those menaces mugged one of the competent mercs of Woodhunt a few months back. He was stuck in his sickbed for weeks."
"What exactly do you have in here?" Gerard asks.
"Ground moles. Those humongous ones. And a mini minotaur," the man explains, producing a pipe and taking a drag out of it. "That last one is a bastard, I tell ya that. It guards the willows at the depth of the cave. Ya'll definitely run into him in this quest."
Gerard hums quietly, unperturbed. Don't minotaurs normally live in dungeons? But then, this isn't the first time he's heard of a beast being spotted in a random place. They've been prevalent lately, for who knows why.
The man hardens his stare at his hooded client. "Ya did say ya were a Royal Knight once, right?"
"Yeah. A Rune Knight, actually," Gerard corrects.
"Rune Knight?" The doleful look of the man turns into a rather concerned one. "My... hold on a minute. Doesn't that usually handle magical beasts? Ya sure ya can handle this all by yourself?"
Gerard tries hard not to roll his eyes. "You did read my resume, right?"
"Yeah, sure," the man replies, still doubtful. "But mind you, there are only heavy hitters in there—none of them use magic. For a magic-exclusive type like you to deal with pure brutes, it's like you're bringing a knife to a crossbow fight. Shouldn't you be in tandem with some fighter type?"
"That's fine. One skilled fighter type's enough for this quest," Gerard jabs a thumb at himself, beaming a smirk. He brandishes a lamp out of his cape, lighting up the mouth of the cave. "And I do know how to win a crossbow fight with a knife." With that, he proceeds into the cave, waving his hand bye.
The man just watches him vanish and scratches his head, his face wrinkling with worry. "Boy. Sure hope he doesn't get minced."
*
Deep in the cave, Gerard comes face to face with threesome massive moles lurking ahead. Upon his presence, they immediately lunge in, teeth bare and claws out. He unsheathes his Rune Blade – a smallsword with rune engravings on the blade and a ring-shaped guard.
He evades the moles one by one in a swift elaborate dance, swinging his sword like a pendulum to parry them away. One of the moles springs high in air and hurtles down into him. He ducks into a dodge roll and sees it land back safely on the ground and turn around. Glancing behind, the other two scamper towards him in a feral fit.
He brandishes a dagger from his waist belt and carves a rune word on the ground beneath him. He swipes two fingers across the writing, and an orange glow envelops it.
As the moles close in, he jumps back. The moles crash into each other and collapse in a pile. The earth beneath them then bellows and swallows them in a pit. Dust flies out of the pit in a puff.
Gerard walks over to the pit and gazes down at the moles pathetically sprawled far below. They'll be out for probably a while. He then resumes moving down the passage.
The cave starts to narrow down further and colorful sparkles appear in the ceiling and walls. Gerard directs the lamp around, which catches the glint of the numerous gemstones and minerals embedded on the rocks. He's already deep in the cave, though the appearance of these gems seems earlier than he fancied. Not that he is a tad bit interested in taking them, but they are charming to marvel at, like a low ceiling of stars.
Down further, the passage opens into a wide chamber, where he stops for a quick survey. Empty. No more passages. Just darkness and rock. A stockpile of boulders are gathered against the left-hand wall. Half a lifetime of experience tells him something isn’t right. So he stays put and waits, all eyes and ears.
The wall by the left explodes, dust flying across the space. The bull-man beast marches out with thunderous steps, its equally massive axe resting on its shoulder like it just came a long way from a slaughter fest.
Gerard quirks up a tiny smirk as he draws his sword from the scabbard on his waist. "Well, isn't this going to be tedious."
The minotaur spots him with bloodshot eyes, then in an instant, readies its axe and lunges at mad speed, striking an empty spot of rock and causing flying dust. It turns around to see the mercenary, his cloak now missing, composing himself after a dodge roll.
Gerard places his sword in front of him and swipes two fingers across the blade, lighting up some of the engraved runes. The blade gleams blue like a lightsaber in the dark. Then he falls into a fighting stance— right side retreated back, left hand thrusted forward and sword at the ready.
The minotaur lets out a feral huff and charges in with an overhead axe strike. Gerard jumps sideways and avoids the fatal hit, then twirls his way forward and slashes up on the beast's forearm, eliciting an ear-piercing howl.
The skin of a minotaur could easily break a smallsword like his. Previous quest takers barely nicked it even with a broadsword. But put condensed pure magic together with a weapon, and you have a hot glowing blade to penetrate rock-hard skin. The perk of a Rune Knight. Gerard smirks, satisfied with himself.
The minotaur, angrier, raises the axe again and swings it sideways. Gerard jumps high above the attack, his boots leaving faint spills of light, and hurtles down into the beast. He showers several rapid thrusts with the sword, drilling multiple holes on the beast's body and staggering it back. He lands into a roll behind the beast and rises back.
The minotaur composes itself, the axe hanging loosely from its grip. It shrieks out loud in full blown fury and lunges in with more vigor. Gerard briefly kneels down to carve runes on the ground with the dagger and light them up, and dodges to the right, the axe hitting the ground where he just stood.
The minotaur moves to lift the axe again, but the axe refuses to budge off the ground. It glances over to find it encased in ice.
"Sorry," Gerard says. "Bear with me for just a little while." He charges in this time and leaps high in air, then spins rapidly like a spintop. His bright blade follows his movement, cutting edge like a flying saucer.
"Peacock's Wheel."
With a battle cry, he lunges into the subdued beast and slashes saw blade-style on its back. The torn carcass of the minotaur collapses flat on its face.
After another graceful landing, Gerard gets back on his feet, and spares a look at the beast. It's still breathing, but should be too worn down to move. Unbothered by the possibility of it attacking again, he continues into the cave.
The cave opens up into less dimmer woods, where a willow tree stands at the edge of a small lake. Rays of sunlight seep through the thick foliage of the woods and shine upon the clear waters and the willow tree itself. Everything else around is a multitude of trees and darkness. Chirps of crickets echo in the air and tiny flying dots of fireflies hover around the tree and over the lake. The ambience is music to Gerard's ears.
He walks around the edge of the lake towards the willow tree and reaches the bottom of the tree. The puffs of white on the branches reflect the sunlight rays. Those must be the flowers.
Gerard takes out the job flyer for a double-check. It says the bark and the leaves are needed for herbal use. The man from earlier, an herbalist and his client, had mentioned that white willow works as a highly effective painkiller. Their rarity in the region makes them particularly difficult to obtain and considerably expensive, which is pretty much why he is here. To stock up the shortage in the guy's keep.
'Mikey would really like these.'
Pulling his dagger out, Gerard begins his work.
*
Gerard can guess the reason that the client has been gawking from the moment he stepped foot in the shop. The man tries to find words whilst transfixed on the pouch of white willow leaves and bark pieces sitting on the counter desk before him.
"Ya kidding me? That wasn't even long! And yer unscathed!" The client exclaims, holding his head like it's about to explode.
Gerard simply waits, his arms crossed over his chest. "Would that be enough to stock up your supply?"
The client snaps out of his trance and grabs the pouch in. "Uh sure, yeah, of course! It's more than enough! Thanks a bunch, sonny! Here's yer 1200 gil." He pulls out another pouch from under the counter and drops it on the desk. "By the way, you also come from Woodhunt, right?"
"Yes."
"Heh, shouldn't have doubted ya there. If one came from the village of mercenaries, he's sure to do the job great!" The client pauses for a brief while. "Does that mean ya have heard of the Kingfisher too?"
Gerard drops off his gaze. "Yeah, I guess."
The client leans his elbow on the desk and nudges forward. "Ya know what, I thought for a second ya were the Kingfisher, but he was never really the kind to bother with a collector's job like this one."
"Is that supposed to be a compliment?"
"Haha, you think it is? He's a legend! Took out an Intangir alone with just a toothpick of a sword! Not to mention he was a former Royal Knight too! Of course he has to be expensive to hire!" The client boisterously explains. "You just weren't as imposing, Falchion."
"I wonder about that," Gerard sighs, grabbing the gil pouch. He beams a lopsided smirk. "I might be, next time."
*
The moment Gerard finds the front door of his house is unlocked, he reckons something is wrong. All the lights are off, entailing that Mikey isn't home yet.
His little brother is always the last between them to leave in the morning and he always locks up the house, being the overbearing type he is. Their house isn't the kind to tempt robbers in, but there's plenty of stuff here Gerard would rather not have anyone touch. He prepares his sword and quietly treads into the living room.
The full moon outside seeps through the open windows of the dark room. Gerard would rather not alert the intruder by turning the lights on. Besides, his sharpened senses brought him through pitch black dungeons back in the Army days.
The living room seems untouched. He makes his way into the hallway leading to the bedrooms. All three of them are closed. He checks each one of them. Empty.
He detours back in the hallway, when suddenly something slices through the air and he barely evades it. Against the window at the end of the hallway, the moonlight strikes upon the silhouette of the new arrival: a small creature with wings.
A fiery glow embodies the unknown creature as it flounders about in the air, then it charges at him again like a fireball. Gerard brings out his sword and parries the attack with the scabbard, the creature flying past him haphazardly. He feels scattered warmth from the trail of light the creature left behind. Fire magic.
The creature swoops in lower this time, but misses as Gerard ducks down. He searches in the small pouch hanging from his waist belt, when the thing swoops in again. As soon as it comes close up, Gerard splashes something into it, causing it to fly off the route and crash on the wooden floor. Some of the splashed liquid turns into fragments of ice on the floor.
He usually didn't use Mikey's freezing agents, but they were occasionally useful against ambushes.
Gerard approaches the creature, now a squirming thing partially cocooned in ice. He finally discerns a beak and feathers on the menace, and he blinks, confused.
The bird squawks and squirms angrily, rocking back and forth like a chair with its whole body, besides its head and long majestic tushy, encased in ice. Gerard crosses his arms and stares down at it. "Where on Terra did you come from?"
The bird stops squirming and starts shrieking, almost like a child throwing tantrums. Gerard tilts his head, fascinated. 'It's got some personality too.'
A clatter of plates resounds in the dark, alerting Gerard back. He rushes down the hallway, the bird screeching in panic behind him. He heads into the kitchen and halts as he finds the fridge open and another creature, clad in black, fumbling in it.
He flips the light switch on and prepares to draw his sword again. "On your guard!"
The creature whirls around. Two pairs of shimmering blue eyes, a curly mass of golden hair and a round young face with bread crumbs, everything else being a tattered black cloak and hands clasping two pieces of bread. Gerard falls still for a moment, unsure what to make of the tiny stranger before him.
"Who are you?" He finally asks.
"... Do you live here, sissy?" The child asks him, a bite of bread in her mouth muffling her words a little.
"Sissy?" Gerard's brow twitches. No one's called him such ever since he left the Army years ago. "This is my house. What's a scrawny little kid like you doing here?"
The child wipes the crumbs off her face with her arm. "I was hungry. I didn't have money to buy food."
"That doesn't give you a reason to barge into somebody's house and steal from his fridge," Gerard berates, crossing his arms. "And how did you get in? My brother locks the house up all the time."
"Bob pin." The girl simply replies, swallows. "I can pick locks."
How many houses could she have ransacked before this? She doesn't look like she'd have any weapon under that cloak of hers, though appearances, no matter how innocent, can be deceiving.
A shrill screeching from behind alarms Gerard. He quickly jumps to the side to evade the swooping bird. The bird lands on the girl's shoulders and spreads its feathers like an angry hen, squawking at him.
"Solis, there you are!" The girl exclaims.
While he's still considerably pissed, Gerard can't help but regard the pair with intrigue. "So that pigeon's your pet? Are you a beast tamer?"
The child rises to her feet and promptly faces him. "Yeah. Solis is a servant of my tribe."
The bird caws once.
Gerard clutches his head, feeling a vein about to burst. "So not only are you robbing from my fridge but your pet attacks me, the owner? You hacked up a pretty big offense, kid. Now please leave."
"Wait, I can explain!" The girl pleads, raising her palms. "Thing is... I'm looking for someone. I heard he lives around here."
"And who would that be?"
"A guy named the Kingfisher."
Gerard falls silent for a few seconds. "Kingfisher, you mean the famous knight who took out an Intangir alone with only a sword?"
"Yes."
"And you think he lives in this house?"
"Well, no. I just came here to get food."
"All right, now you have your grub there, could you please leave?" Gerard sternly commands with a shooing wave of his hand. "I can't have my brother come in to find this mess."
"I just want to know where I can find him." The girl pauses, staring at something on his belt. "You have a sword. Are you a knight?"
"Yeah, once in the past."
"Then you know who the Kingfisher is?"
"Sort of. He's the talk of the folks in my work."
"... Will you help me find him?"
"Excuse me?" Gerard double-takes as if he just heard the most absurd thing in his life.
"You're a knight like him, so you must be close with him. You might be able to take me to him," The girl explains.
"And why do you want to find him? Are you his fan or something?"
"No. It's just..." the girl looks down, fiddling her fingers. "I thought he might be able to help me. There's this place I have to go, and I need help with it. It's really important. The whole planet depends on it."
"The planet?" Gerard questions.
She looks back at him, pleadingly. "At least, tell me where he is. I'll pay you back, I promise!"
Gerard runs his hand up his head, conflicted. He doubts that this child even has anything on her to pay with. "I don't know, kid. Even if I tell you now, it's already late. You can't find anybody wandering around at this time."
"Then, tomorrow?"
"You actually think I'm going to help you out? After you did all this?" Gerard harshly says like an annoyed mom.
The girl stares long at him like an owl. "...Sorry," she simply offers.
Gerard holds his breath, a little irked. She's surprisingly frank and sincere for a food burglar. He feels a little sorry now. "For Terra's sake," he sighs.
The front door opens and a call sounds, "Gee, I'm home."
"Oh snap," Gerard mutters. The kitchen floor still has the crumbs and food residue.
"Who's that?" The girl asks.
"My brother," Gerard says, holding his temple in exasperation. Just as he is about to formulate a good explanation for the mess, Mikey walks into the kitchen in his apothecary outfit.
"Gerard, why are all the lights off? This isn't the barracks," Mikey says, stopping on his tracks at the unusual scene before him. He adjusts his glasses. "What's going on here?"
"Thought a burglar came in, but it was just Goldilocks and her pet over here," Gerard answers. "She says she's looking for the Kingfisher."
"Hello," the girl awkwardly greets.
Mikey stares at her for a while, then he looks at Gerard. "Did your reputation take such a dramatic fall it's got exotic critters now?"
"Shut up, it's not like that." Gerard lightly pushes him in the shoulder. "She just thinks I may be close with him, that's all."
Mikey raises a brow at him. Gerard could tell he's suspecting and hopes he won't give it away. His little brother just sighs and asks the girl, "Why do you want to find the Kingfisher?"
"I thought he could help me get to Polaris," she replies.
"Polaris..." Mikey turns to Gerard again. "Have you been there before?"
Gerard shrugs. "Nope. Not a chance. That place's rife with the worst monsters on the planet. Even a warlord couldn't survive there."
"Not even Mr. Kingfisher?"
"... that's open for debate. He's too cool."
Mikey returns his attention to the girl. "Why do you want to go to such a dangerous place?"
"There's something I have to find there." A dim shadow veils the girl's bright eyes. "I lost my home five months ago. My tribe left it all up to me to carry their wish. I've been doing my best, but with the way I am right now, I can't make it to Polaris on my own, or carry my tribe's wish any further."
The brothers share a look—Gerard conflicted, Mikey concerned.
"Have you ever met the Kingfisher?" Mikey asks her.
"No. I only heard about him from the rumors." The girl shakes her head.
"I see," Mikey hums. "Well, it's getting late. It'd be troublesome to go out looking for him at this hour. You can stay here for the night so you can look for him tomorrow."
"Really?" The girl beams up, ecstatic.
Gerard looks at his brother like he grew shrooms on his head. "Really now, Mikes? Letting a child thief spend a night here?"
"It can't be helped. You can't leave a kid like her out alone in the cold, now can you?"
"But still, can you guarantee she won't touch anything else here? She already gobbled up a whole loaf of bread."
"It's all right. Let me handle this," Mikey waves at him and approaches the girl, then squats to level with her. "What's your name?"
"Kid," the girl replies.
"Just Kid?" Mikey quirks an amused smile. "I'm Mikey. We'll help you find your guy tomorrow, so in return, promise you won't steal anything. Is that fair for you?"
"Sure, I promise." Kid says.
Mikey stands back up. "Come on, I'll make you a place for you to sleep on. Would a sofa be all right for you?"
"Anything's fine!" Kid cheerily agrees, and goes ahead out of the kitchen. The bird follows suit after her.
"You're pretty good at this," Gerard remarks as Mikey walks past him.
"It's nothing much compared to the everyday shenanigans at the item shop," Mikey says.
"Let me guess, did someone ask you to whip up a love potion today?"
"No. But one did ask for fifty mist bombs. He said his kitchen caught fire every time his wife cooked for him. He was worried she'd burn his house down while he was gone, so he needed a quick solution for that." Mikey clutches his head, looking a few years older. "No one's asked for that many ever since the ethers ran dry decades ago."
Gerard snorts. Quick solutions are Mikey's specialty. The refrigerant Gerard used on the bird earlier is one of them. The irony of it is that they take a lot of work to become efficient.
"I'll help the kid over here. Maybe do something about that mess there," Mikey points to the floor before he leaves the kitchen.
Oh, right. The crumbs.
Gerard groans.
*
Kid makes herself comfortable on the couch. The bird perches on top of the couch's backrest. "Guess we won't be paying for the night this time, right, Solis?" She says.
The bird chirps in response. "By tomorrow, you'll be paying them for helping you though."
"Yeah, I guess," she bemusedly agrees. "I wonder if there'll be easy jobs at the request board tomorrow. We could at least get some money for that."
Solis whistles. "Truly do I wonder sometimes. In such a short time, you ended up fighting just to find a safe place to stay every night."
A glum shadow veils Kid's eyes again. "To think it's been five months already. Ever since they..." She trails off, unwilling to say the thought out loud for the bird's sake.
"It doesn't even feel that long to me yet." Solis says. "I've served your tribe for centuries. They all still feel like yesterday, especially those boys."
Kid faintly hums. Then the footsteps approach, and Mikey appears with a blanket folded on his arm.
"Have you traveled around for a long time?" He asks as he hands over the blanket to her.
"Yeah," Kid replies. "I've never been outside my home, so it was hard to find the right places to stay and get food."
"I see you've been desperate, huh?" Mikey remarks, sympathetic. "I have to say, I'm a bit impressed. I keep the front door locked and lace the locks with a little toxin every time so no one gets in that easily."
Kid freezes and begins to sweat cold bullets. "Toxin?"
"It just makes anyone a little dizzy and weak, so it's nothing dangerous. It only works when you activate the spikes and cut yourself." Mikey raises a brow. "Did you?"
"... I did." Kid recalls the last time she fell out cold, and it was shortly after she picked the lock and broke into the house.
"Yeah, figured that much. I see cuts on your hands." Mikey smirks, and produces a tiny first aid kit. "Help yourself with these. You wouldn't want a nasty infection."
"...Thanks," she timidly accepts the kit, then opens it to find a small bottle of disinfectant, cotton swabs, and band aids with stickers of a puffy cat-like creature with a pink round ball as an antenna. "Are those moogles?"
"Yep." Mikey chuckles. "Do you know how to treat those cuts on your own?"
"Sure. I can handle it."
"Oh. Okay." Mikey then stands up and dismisses himself. "Get yourself a good rest."
Once he's out of sight, Kid starts swabbing her cuts when Solis crows in intrigue at the band aids. "I'm thinking the other brother likes moogles." His sound translates.
"Who wouldn't though?" Kid says, holding her breath at the sting of the disinfectant. "They're the cutest things in the world."
After putting the bandages on, she spreads the blanket over herself and lies down on the couch. Solis transfers from the top of the back rest to the crane of her neck, shrinking to a ball of feathers.
"Cozy," she mutters. She then takes notice of the obscured moon outside the window across her. The blue hue of the moon mirrors her own eyes and sinks into the depths of her memory.
'I miss my home.'
The light of the room goes off.
*
Mikey makes his way down the hallway to his room when he meets Gerard leaning against the wall.
"She's fast asleep," Mikey tells him. "Apparently, she cut herself on the lock's spikes."
Gerard arches up his head. "Your security proved to be ineffective there, Mikes. We're just lucky she only went for the fridge."
"But... how could that be?" Mikey furrows his brows. "A grown man would be out for hours from the toxin. Even if she came in the afternoon or earlier, she should have still been out cold until now."
"It was probably her pet," Gerard says. "It used magic. I'm guessing it can cure too."
"The bird?"
"Yep."
"Huh. I didn't imagine a magic user would break in any time. Maybe I'll try a stronger agent next time."
Gerard snorts. "You could knock someone into a coma."
"For a sufficient reason," Mikey pins. "By the way, I'll be going back to Newark tomorrow in the afternoon. You're not coming?"
"What reason do I have to go there?"
Mikey squints at him like he grew head shrooms. "Come on now Gee, don't tell me you've forgotten what day it is tomorrow."
Gerard blinks, racking up his brain. Then his face dims. "Oh... yeah. That day, huh?" He sullenly mutters.
Gerard never likes it whenever he is reminded of the day their grandma passed. That has been one of the grayest moments of their lives, and the glumness still sticks to this day. But at least he isn't wallowing around anymore like the first two years, as he's already found an outlet to keep himself productive, namely his mercenary job, and the other one.
"You could take a visit to the willow tree once in a while. The fireflies there miss you," Mikey says, smiling to himself when he remembers the majestic willow tree in the backyard of their old house. "They must be restless for years with no one to entertain them. Plus, you could use some workout."
Gerard hums in consideration. "Guess I'll have to stop by this once. It's been so long, after all."
"And while you're at it, you can take Kid with you and drop her off at the station in the city."
"Why me? Why can't you?"
Mikey shrugs. "Unfortunately, I have a duty at the clinic to take care in the morning. I promised Ms. Rose I'd take her place in the first half of the day. Besides, you're the one closer to what the girl's looking for."
"Escorting isn't my cup of coffee," Gerard replies, resolutely. "I don't appreciate being a guard dog for anyone."
Mikey knows why he'd refuse. As selfish as it sounds, Gerard does have a good reason for that, which Mikey has the decency to understand. But the poor girl has traveled possibly miles just to find a legendary mercenary whom she's only heard of. It's sad.
"I heard her talking about taking jobs at the request board. She's probably a regular like you. That must be how she knew of the Kingfisher," Mikey reveals.
"He's rarely shown up for the grand jobs lately. Fame's become scary for him," Gerard mutters to the ceiling.
Mikey sighs, exasperated by his brother's dramatics. "Can you at least help her get the first clue to Kingfisher? She's not familiar with the region. If she starts from there, she can follow the trail on her own. You don't have to do anything grand."
Gerard holds his breath for a long moment. That's usually how Mikey knows he's weighing his choices. The older one eventually resigns with a sigh. "... fine. I'll make an exception just this once."
"That'd be much appreciated," Mikey says, satisfied. "I heard you changed your alias."
"Yeah. It's still a little related to the previous though."
"Guess riddles still are your cup of coffee, Falchion," Mikey throws his palms in a shrug, going to his room. He pauses for a second. "Or, more correctly, alcyon ."
The bedroom door closes behind him.