In Search of Auria Read online

  Memories of past events emerged and slowly crept into my mind’s eye…

  *

  The fires roared when explosions cracked the earth. The morning had begun with battle. Mangonel catapults shot raging balls of fire from a distance, destroying every tree and man they landed upon. The conflict was happening at Somber Petalia, a region located on the west of Miaflore. It was called this way because of the fields and hills naturally overlaid with dark petal flowers. But, that day those flowers had been dyed red. The whole field was full of warriors in combat. Somber Petalia made border with the invading country of Balora. The miaflorians protected their home, wearing their green and radiant chainmail. The balorians pressed on to conquer it, vesturing their dim, blue plated armor.

  From the smoke and fire, a squadron of miaflorian knights rode their horses to the heart of the skirmish. Among them was Erik Belrose, a strong and skilled 24 year old soldier in the prime of his life. With light brown eyes, black wavy hair, and a lean physique under his armor, Erik was vigorous and fearless. Coming from a long family of warriors, he was born into the war and knew nothing else but grinding battle. His body hardened by combat, and his mind carved out of pure will, he had his eyes fixed on the struggle ahead. But even though he was one of the best and was praised strongly by his brethren, he longed for the conflicts to be over and enter an era of peace. He wanted to know if he would ever reach a moment of his life in which he would draw something else than his sword; to appreciate what had been denied to him because of his hard profession. But until that time of pleasantries came, blood and steel were to be his companions.

  “Advance!” shouted Gregor Tolbert, the captain of the squadron. He was a man already on his fifties, but led and fought with the heart of a lion. “Kill everything wearing that dreaded blue armor!”

  The group of men he commanded was the Eternal Squadron. They were the best force of the army, engaging the enemy with their superior skill and strategy. With them deployed, the skirmish was sure to turn in favor of the miaflorians.

  The two armies clashed south of Margot Plateau. This was a noticeably large mound of earth in Somber Petalia. It was surrounded by the flower fields, except for its west side, where the upland broke into a cliff. At the bottom of the cliff rushed the white waters of the Crude River. At the top of Margot Plateau was Tally, a village that had been overrun by the balorians. That’s where they had set up their catapults. An advance force had already made its way up to try and disable the mechanisms, but they had been cut off from the main force when the opposing militia divided the army. That is why Erik’s squadron was called, to sort out the mess.

  With the help of the Eternal Squadron, the army slowly pushed forward, advancing the frontlines. Erik charged and attacked atop his horse, when he noticed balorian reinforcements coming around the plateau.

  “Infantry, sir,” he warned the captain, “Coming from the east!”

  Captain Tolbert gave the command to send half of the squadron east for support. Erik stayed behind with the remainder to rid the area of the invaders. He jumped off his horse to fight. It was his preferred way of combat; going face to face with the enemy and emerge victorious by his superior skill. He fought full of vigor, dodging and countering every attack whether it came from sword or spear.

  “Arg!” he heard a familiar scream behind him. He saw his friend, Raymond, getting knocked off his horse by a rogue arrow. It got lodged on his left shoulder. While he laid on the ground, an enemy soldier ran to strike him. Erik dashed to his friend and with an able slash killed the soldier. He helped Raymond to his feet and plucked the arrow out his shoulder.

  “Damn, that hurts,” Raymond grunted, looking at his wound. “But I’m fine. I can still hold my sword.”

  “You’d better, ‘cause I won’t babysit you forever,” Erik replied as he reached for the shield he carried on his back. He fixed it on his arm and engaged the enemy.

  After a few hits, cuts, and bruises, the squadron’s effort paid off and the balorians withdrew. The mounted captain neared Erik and Raymond and observed Raymond’s wound.

  “Are you all right? How is it?” he asked.

  “This is nothing,” replied Raymond holding his composure. “I will continue until we emerge victorious.” The captain smiled at his words. He was about to dismount his horse when the advance force that had been sent to Margot Plateau bolted down its slope in terror. The army watched in awe as some of them tripped and rolled down. They had been successful in stopping the catapults, so why should they run? What had they encountered to make them flee in such a way?

  Then, a messenger coming from the miaflorian command post ran to the captain’s horse and relayed his message, “Captain, a message from command. We are to stop our advancement and regroup. The Eternal Squadron and the rest of the army should wait in position until further orders.”

  The captain turned his head to see how the miaflorians ran in retreat. Something was coming and he had to stop it.

  “Nonsense!” he yelled to the messenger, “The main army can stay, but this squadron is mine. We shall advance!”

  He pointed his sword towards Margot Plateau and yelled with verve, “Brave men of the Eternal Squadron, hear me. On the top of this lonely pile of land awaits our victory. Destroy every balorian on it! Charge and reclaim our land!”

  The brief speech invigorated the squadron. They galloped up the slope with Tolbert at point. Erik and Raymond ran behind, their horses lost due to the chaos of the battlefield.

  “Useless cowards!” the captain shouted as he passed the fleeing miaflorian soldiers. “I prefer to run bravely towards death, than to run crying for my life!”

  As Erik and Raymond strode up the slope, Erik stopped one of the fleeing soldiers.

  “Why do you run?” he asked him.

  “He’s too big, he’s a monster!” the soldier replied and continued running.

  “What might it be?” Raymond wondered.

  “Whatever it is, we must hurry and catch up with the squadron.”

  When they finally reached the top, the squadron had already entered the village. Tally was a very small community that consisted of roughly forty wooden cottages and a handful of shops. The only place in it that gave it some recognition was the small plaza located near the cliff. Its floor had been flagged with cobblestone, painted with floral designs just like the flowers that surrounded the upland.

  Erik led the way into the village by one of its southern entrances. He could hear a chanting coming from the plaza. He didn’t understand what it was, but every now and then there was a loud cheer. They treaded carefully about the streets, but there was no sign of either the squadron or the enemy. All they could do was continue to the plaza, where the chanting came from. As they drew closer they were able to make out what the chants were. It was men shouting, repeating, “Beast! Beast! Beast!” As the voices reiterated the word, a chill went down Erik’s spine. He knew his brethren did no such thing. It could only be the balorians. And if it was the balorians, it meant trouble.

  They took a left on the next street and saw a cobbled lane at the end. If they followed the lane, they would end at the plaza. Running to turn at the corner, the voices cheered and a heavy thud was heard on the roof of the cottage beside them. A body rolled off and landed on its back. Raymond gasped immediately. It was the captain. The chainmail on his chest was oozing with blood. Erik tightened his jaw and pursed his lips in anger. Raymond sobbed as he ran to the body.

  “Father, father… no…” he cried as he fell on his knees.

  The captain’s horse trotted its way into the street and stopped beside its master’s dead corpse. Erik sheathed his sword and quickly held the reins. When he turned to Raymond, his friend’s crying had turned into fury. He was ready to avenge his father’s death. Erik knew he would want to go into the plaza and kill whoever was responsible, but his blind rage would only bring his demise. He grabbed him by the arm and tried to bring him to his senses.

  “Raymond, you have t
o go now. You need to survive. Take your father back to Pollen.”

  “No! I want the killer’s head. Let go of me!”

  “Think, damn it! You are now the head of your family, your father’s only son. You can’t afford to die here. Your mother and wife need you. You have to go!” Raymond struggled and breathed hard until calming down. With tears glittering in his eyes, he finally agreed. He then fixed his sight on Erik.

  “And you? You’ll stay?”

  “I don’t have anyone waiting for me back home. Dead or alive, it’ll be the same”.

  “But…”

  Erik didn’t let him finish. He lifted Gregor’s body on the back of the horse and helped Raymond to get on. The shouting of the voices began again. Ray glanced back at the body of his father and pressed his lips in grief. He then nodded at Erik, “Thank you, Erik. And don’t you dare die.”

  He raced out of the village for the main camp. Erik was left alone in the dusty street. He could have gone back with Raymond and return to safety; maybe even go as far back to return to the city of Pollen, the capital of the miaflorian kingdom. But he was born and raised in war, trained to run towards battle and endure its horrors. He turned and scurried around the corner, towards the place where the voices kept chanting, “Beast! Beast! Beast!”

  Entering the flagged floor of the plaza, he realized what was happening. He understood the reason for the chant. In the middle of the plaza was a giant of a man, almost twice Erik’s height. He wore the balorian armor and fashioned a long curly beard. Most balorians used a sword or spear, but he wielded a large axe with a long handle to suit his size. Three of Erik’s remaining squadron fought against him. On the other side, behind the giant man, the balorian soldiers gathered along the square like if watching a spectacle. To the west of the plaza was the cliff, with the Crude River rushing at its bottom.

  Erik’s comrades were exhausted. They couldn’t get close enough to hurt the giant soldier because of the great axe he brandished. The balorian took the offensive and swung the axe from right to left. The first two soldiers dodged the cold edge, but the third one was cut in half, the blood splattering on the stone floor. He then swung back and hit the second soldier with the back of the axe, darting him into the air just like the captain. Before he finished the last one, Erik ran to his colleague and raised his shield to protect him. The giant man stopped his attack.

  “Bwahaha! Another one came to die,” he bellowed and the balorians laughed. He walked towards his people and asked, “How do you want their heads, sliced or crushed? Bwahaha!”

  “Ivan, are you fine?” asked Erik. His comrade was kneeling on the floor, firmly gripping his halberd. His hair was pale, almost silver, and he suffered a bloody gash on his cheekbone.

  Staring at the enemy, he spoke with his smooth voice, “Erik, the fields of Somber Petalia will be our grave, Tally being our deathbed. But before we die, we have to kill that man! He’s the spirit that drives the balorian army and the reason why the miaflorians flee. If we manage to stop him, the balorian morale will plummet.”

  “What about the cliff?”

  “We already tried that. He’s big, but not stupid. If we could manage to wound him so that he can stop fighting…”

  “Prepare to receive death,” shouted the oversized man. “I, Sebastien ‘The Beast’, shall deliver it!” He darted toward the miaflorians and dropped the axe, almost slicing their bodies. They separated and surrounded the giant on his front and back. Ivan aimed for the head with his halberd, but Sebastien blocked. Erik hurried to cut him from behind, but met with his rising foot. The kick took him to the ground. When he returned to his feet, he saw his friend on a vicious deadlock with Sebastien. The giant pushed down with both arms, but Ivan kept strong, hoping that the edge of the axe would not split his halberd. Erik picked up a loose rock from the decorated floor and threw it at the giant. He hit him on the tender spot right behind the ear. Sebastien lowered his head with a grunt and stepped back, swinging his axe wildly. Erik dashed around and rejoined Ivan.

  “Let’s try it again,” he told him, “The only thing he can do from behind is a kick. If I can dodge it, I can get to him.” Ivan agreed with a nod. The balorian soldiers stayed back and cursed at the miaflorians, urging Sebastien to finish it.

  “Playtime’s over,” shouted the Beast, “This ends now!” He hurried toward the men and thrust his axe like a spear. Erik and Ivan dodged, but when they tried to go forth with the plan, the enormous soldier wouldn’t let them. He would hack and jab so to keep them together. Finally, he brought the long weapon to his side and swung a brutal horizontal slash. Erik rolled under the blade while Ivan jumped over it, his chest facing the sky. It was a sight that the balorian soldiers never expected to see; Erik on the ground, Ivan in the air, and the axe passing right in between.

  When Ivan fell on the ground, Erik heard him scream in pain. He landed flat on his back, hurting it on the flagged floor. Erik got up as fast as he could to aid him, but it was too late. He had to see how the axe fell directly on his friend’s throat, and how the body trembled as it lost its life.

  “Ivan, no!”

  The axe had stabbed deep, getting lodged between the flags. Erik dashed to Sebastien, fueled with that same rage he had warned Raymond so much about. He pointed his blade to the balorian’s torso and lunged forward. The giant quickly pulled the axe out of the ground and with the same momentum swung it to Erik’s head. Erik had to dive in and lower his body in order to avoid the blade. By doing this he did not strike Sebastien’s torso, but instead drove the sword deep between the joints of his ankle. The giant made a horrible howl that left the balorian soldiers scatterbrained. Erik left the blade jammed in to make the wound tear as his enemy fell. He then jumped to his feet and ran directly towards the west of the plaza, where the cliff was. The soldiers remained stunned as they saw the great Sebastien struggling to get up. They stayed that way until a commander wearing a multiple horned helmet shrieked, “Don’t just stand there! Kill him!”

  The archers in the enemy ranks quickly stretched their bows and launched their arrows. Erik switched his shield to his right arm, blocking the barrage. The soldiers sprinted behind him, as the edge of the cliff drew nearer.

  He chose to jump over the cliff instead of retreating out the village, for his enemies were many and would have eventually caught him. He could’ve stayed right there, retrieving the sword from Sebastien’s ankle to pierce his gut and await a great warrior’s death. But even though he had said to Raymond that his death would change nothing, he wanted to survive. At some point of his life he wanted to experience something that the battlefield could not provide; something his mind hadn’t discovered, but that his soul yearned for. He had seen enough blood, enough death, and enough violence.

  Reaching the edge, Erik jumped with a groan. The soldiers were not as brave as him and abruptly stopped, almost falling down themselves. Erik set his sights down to the river as he gained speed with every second. He let go of the shield and crossed his arms over his chest. The wind battered his body as he dropped through the air. Would he survive the plunge?

  Suddenly, the river disappeared from under his boots. All became black and all feeling stopped. Darkness slowly crept into the sight of his eyes…

  *

  The fire I made had died. I found myself standing in front of the smoking wood with my face buried in my hands. I did not recall getting up or placing my hands on my face. These memories I held were of bloody battles and lost friends; too intense that I sometimes lost reality. I shook my head and cleared my mind. I needed to rest for the coming day. Perhaps tomorrow I’d focus on better memories, on the ones of my Auria.

  3- In the town

  I woke up to a sunny morning. I rubbed my eyes as they came in contact with the daylight. The sun was already high in the sky. I had overslept. I needed to gather my equipment and continue on my path. I folded the thin, black blanket I had slept with. I always had it in my bag, except for when I was with Auria. When I was with her
back home, I would spread it on the ground so we could sit and have a good chat. I could’ve been chatting with her at this very moment, sitting on this blanket. But we weren’t. And for that I blamed myself.

  According to the map I took from the outpost, I would reach a village called Vieris if I followed the route to the northwest. And after the sun went past noon, I was there. The stone walls around it were so old they had deteriorated and broken down. The gaps in between were so wide that three carriages could pass through side by side. But what caught my eyes even more were the cultivating fields that surrounded the village. They circled around, full of eggplants, corn, tomatoes and beans. There was even a small, but noticeable section with flowers. After my recent encounter with the balorian soldiers, the best course of action would be to avoid the village and prevent any unnecessary interaction. But, I was weary after days of walking and hiking. The sun was too hot and I needed a drink.

  I walked upon the dusty road leading to the southern entrance of the walls. Passing by villagers and farmers, the last carrying crops to their wagons, I thought about how easy it would be to invade this village. The walls were so deteriorated that a measly kick would crumble them. This is how much war- infested my mind was; I was approaching a peaceful village, and all I could think about was how to tear it down. This is why Auria was so important to me. Not only did I love her, but she would take me away from my warring life.

  Nearing the entrance, the guards took a suspicious gander at me. I kept on forward without making eye contact. And surprisingly enough, they left me be. Maybe things around here were so calm and dull, they didn’t even worry about strangers like me.

  The houses inside were made of well crafted wood, all with circular windows and little bells beside the front door. Many of them had two floors; a shop on the first and a home on the second. It only took me a few minutes to find the town pub. Pulling the creaking door, I let myself in. The barkeeper looked at me funny when I asked for water instead of mead or wine, but without any problem poured me a cup. After a few moments of rest, I noticed two lovebirds at the corner of the bar; a man and a woman just flirting and laughing. Seeing them with their games and kisses made me rub my sorrowed eyes, whispering her loving name, “Auria”.