Author's Preface
Even before they entered, Nassor and Kazan could hear the loud, rhythmic music coming from the tavern.
“Come on. Aren’t you gonna ask me how it was???”
“Nah. Nassor, I can already tell how it was from how yer grinning, asshole.”
“Hmph! Fine, fine. It’s alright, because it’s your turn now, buddy~”
Nassor had his usual shit-eating grin on, right as he pushed open the doors to the tavern.
And what a sight it was.
“HEY! HEY! HEY!”
Inside, it was like a festival had already begun without them.
The plucking of a frantic, high-paced stringed instrument. Hands clapping to the fast driving beat. The metallic ring of cymbals. And the loud voices of the patrons.
A beautiful honeyed rhythm, food for the souls of the Eshtaran villagers.
Nassor of course had his head high, joining in on the clapping. He led Kazan past a throng of low wooden tables, brushing shoulders with townsfolk and other mercenaries alike. His body subtly moving in time to the rhythm. Kazan… awkwardly tried to match him.
“Woooo! The party’s always going, isn’t it?” Nassor laughed, his face alight with joy.
“The best damn entertainment in the village,” Kazan confirmed.
“Aye! I’ll drink to that!”
The pair soon pulled out two chairs and sat at a round table towards the center right - a nice view of the center stage. And the one-armed healer had his eyes set on said stage…
Kazan’s jaw dropped as if it was the first time seeing her - a pair of veiled dancers in soft baby blue silks and satins, their beautiful hazel eyes just as lustrous as their outfits.
“She’s as gorgeous as ever… Nassor, how do I-”
“HERE HERE! THIS HANDSOME YOUNG MAN WISHES TO JOIN YOU ON STAGE!”
Before his sentence had finished, Nassor was already loud and pointing towards Kazan.
In such a small and intimate setting, all eyes had already fixated upon Kazan. Especially the tall, curvy beauty on center stage.
Her hips swayed to the rhythm, palms open and swirling in the air like a spellcaster. And then - a wink. And a small “come hither” gesture.
Nassor and Kazan shared a look. A familiar look between men. One that was smug, eager, and proud… and another that was just as eager and excited, but similarly nervous.
“Off you go~!” Nassor shoved his one-armed friend off his seat, and he went stumbling. The throng of taverngoers let out raucuous laughter, also helping him up to the stage.
“We got a little lovebird here!”
“Go for it, young man!”
“Even mercenaries can get shy, eh?”
“… that should’ve been me…” grumbled an older man in the corner.
All the while, Nassor just watched on - snickering at having the pleasure of seeing Kazan try to “dance.”
“Fuckin’ hilarious!” Nassor’s guffaws joined the tavern’s cacophany. “He’s like a damn tree in the breeze! At least she’s smilin’ along too, heh.”
All the while, his left hand idly drifted to his stomach, scratching a small itch… As the small snake tattoo glowed.
Across the sandy village’s evening, two figures were walking arm in arm, under the beautiful skies, the same color as a forge’s hot irons.
Arjuna’s soft flaxen locks swayed in the breeze, as he rounded the street corner with Leila. Dressed in more casual and laid-back attire, fitting for an easy walk. Simple robes, loose and comfortable.
“Mmm. I’ll miss nights like these when we leave,” Arjuna mused out loud, his eyes wandering up to vivid orange-red sky. “It’s quiet out here now. I assume most folks are either in their homes, or at the tavern.”
“Oh, definitely,” Leila giggled. “Where else is there to gather this late? Only the town square, I fear. Besides…”
She glanced over and winked at her partner.
“It’s where we met, and started up our fun when you first arrived…” Leila leaned in closer, making sure to be riiiight next to Arjuna.
He just smiled, shaking his head.
“I’d never forget it. Not that. Not those nights. And not this current moment,” Arjuna whispered, his voice lowering. “And definitely not you. Never.”
“Oh.”
A smile brighter than the sun sprouted onto Leila’s luscious lips. The corners of her eyes wrinked, and she let out a sigh of content.
“Mhm. Father would be proud of this one,” she muttered mostly to herself, though Arjuna raised his brow, smirking lightly.
“Would he now?”
The soft-faced archer couldn’t help it. As the pair stopped near a small closed food shop - they relaxed against a nearby mudbrick wall, just gazing up at the sunset. A view that was free from buildings or palm trees.
“Yes, he would,” Leila murmured, reaching over and gently rubbing Arjuna’s arm. “We should talk to him, after we get permission from your Captain about retrieving the corpses.”
“Ah. Yes. The Captain,” Arjuna hummed. “The Captain. Captain…”
Slowly, the world began to fade out of Arjuna’s sight, as his thoughts became overwhelmed with a vibrant memory from just a day ago.
The door shut behind him. Leaving just a worn out Arjuna alone with Captain Raktam, in the quiet space of his makeshift “office.”
The infamous mercenary leader didn’t speak a word at first. Merely setting his eyes on Arjuna, and quietly observing.
Dust on every inch of his cloak. The weariness in his usually gentle eyes.
“No need to sit,” Captain Raktam’s voice boomed, his silver eyes brimming with secrets. “Report, Arjuna.”
“Yes sir.”
Arjuna’s words covered all the key points. The easy entrance. The close win over the powerful Watcher. The sacrifices, too many dead faces. The absolutely overwhelming Overseer. Kazan’s now lost arm. But…
“And that’s all, sir,” Arjuna finished. His stare was respectful and unflinching.
Not a single word about the mysterious Goddess, nor the intriguing artifacts he took back. And not a whisper about Nassor’s disappearance and reappearance.
Silence filled the room for a few moments, almost too many.
Arjuna bit back the urge to tremble, to quiver, to showcase any signs.
But Raktam slowly leaned back in his chair, hands folded. “Mmm. More trouble than you expected, I can tell.” He let out an amused chuckle. “Suppose ya feel like you deserve a big payout, yeah?”
“No sir,” Arjuna quickly responded. “Us men outside of the regular law should expect to skirt death and danger. Sir.”
The corners of The Captain’s lips curled upwards just a smidge.
“Good. And… the tombs themselves and the riches were untouched, truly? Cultists be human, after all. Everyone needs gold.”
Arjuna nodded, though he winced quietly. “… yes sir. It seems these cultists didn’t raid the tombs for treasures or the like. And… I’m happy they didn’t touch the royal coffins.” A small sigh of relief escaped the youth.
“Seeing the entire room full of Royal Family coffins, especially the little ones?” he shook his head. “Terrible.”
It was at this moment, that Raktam finally leaned forward more.
“You felt sad, did ya?” he began, unfolding his hands. His tone was mild. Almost thoughtful. “How about… feeling more mournful than usual?”
A soft pause, as the words sunk into Arjuna’s brain.
The golden-haired archer frowned. “Sir? What is that supposed to mean-”
Thruuuum.
Before he finished speaking, Raktam had already stood up - his weathered, large hand in front of Arjuna’s face, glowing with white Jiu. It washed across his gentle face, surprisingly soft and refreshing.
“There,” Raktam murmured. “Spell was wearin’ thin. Must’ve been all that fightin’, or that presence in the tombs.”
His hand dropped, the giant of a man pacing slowly back and forth now. A ghost of a smile gracing his scarred Solaran-Azuman face. Though Arjuna himself was even more confused now.
“Rumors are like hookers,” Captain Raktam began. “Some of em’ are worth more coin and attention than others. And some, ya discard after a night. So…”
“Folks be talkin’ about who supposedly killed the Royals. Who’s gonna lead Solara. And…”
Arjuna gulped. That stare of Raktam’s felt like a heavy weight on his shoulders. His breath began to shorten, as he gripped the side of his gambeson tightly.
The giant leaned in, voice almost down to a conspiratorial whisper, “Rumors about hidden little bloodlines, kept a secret. So, Arjuna of the Black Fang Mercenaries…”
“Who are you?”
“EEEEEEEEEK! S-STOP!”
“H-huh?!?”
Arjuna was brought out of his daydreams, his head twisting side to side to find the source of commotion.
“Leila, did you hear that?”
She nodded immediately, her noble features already darkened into an angry scowl.
“YES. Move. NOW, Arjuna! It sounds like Mr. Mali!”
Leila took him by the hand and started flying , literally in this case. Her emerald green Star Jiu erupted from her feet, sending the two whistling through the air at intense speeds.
At their velocity, it was but a brief moment until they arrived at the scene. Their feet hit the ground hard, dust flaring up around them.
The street was narrow, sparsely lined with the usual mud-brick homes. The last golden motes of sunlight slanted across the scene, as Arjuna’s mind was racing to catch up to what he was witnessing.
A middle aged man - presumably Mr. Mali - was on his knees in the middle of the dirt road, a harsh swelling already around his left eye. Presumably his wife clung to his side, head lowered, sporting a bruise on her right cheek.
In front was a mercenary with his arms crossed, watching over Mr. Mali and sneering - while a second mercenary was methodically snapping their farming tools into two.
Just a stone’s throw away, two children were huddled together, trembling as they balanced two large water jugs on their shoulders. A line was drawn in the sand at their feet, barely enough space to even stand on one foot each.
Another mercenary nearby was snickering, poking at their feet in attempts to make them stumble. And just at the cruel woman’s feet, was a napkin with meat-filled bread atop, just waiting. Likely some kind of “reward.”
And standing in the middle of both scenes was a tall slim man, who seemed almost disinterested in it all.
Leila’s lips twitched. And the Heiress saw red.
“GET AWAY FROM THEM!” She roared, firing off a long barrage of Star Magic projectiles.
They rained down like emerald hail onto the crowd, sending each of the figures scrambling for cover.
“Shit! Dodge it, dodge it! You’ll- AH!”
Two of the seven dodged. Four were blasted across the desert, crashing into nearby walls or palm trees.
And the seventh figure, the tall and distinterested man, just held up a stick…
… the Jiu blast harmlessly severing into two small blasts and dissipating into thin air.
Gulp.
Arjuna didn’t jump into action. Instead, he bowed his head on instinct.
“Is this insubordination I’m seeing, Arjuna?” spoke a cool, detached yet authoritative voice.
The tall mercenary stared at the newcomers with emotionless eyes. Or rather - he stared at Arjuna alone.
“… no it is not, Lieutenant Kerem,” Arjuna reponded politely. “Forgive Leila. She could only assume the worst, from hearing those screams.”
“Hmph. That doesn’t excuse her hurting our men, does it?” Kerem fired back calmly.
Arjuna and Leila stood side by side, bodies still tense. Unsure of what would come next exactly.
“Lieutenant… one of your people then?” Leila grumbled, standing up taller. The dim emerald light didn’t fade fully yet.
“Yes, he is. Second-in-command to Captain Raktam,” he whispered back. “Allow me to handle this first, my star.”
In, and out. In and out.
Deep breaths first. Even now, without Kerem actually saying anything - Arjuna felt on edge.
“But wait. What am I actually afraid of?” Arjuna briefly mused. “If Raktam is correct, if my assumptions were correct…”
His eyes hardened for the first time since the fight in the tombs. And didn’t dare look away from Lieutenant Kerem’s piercing dark brown’s.
“Lieutenant Sir,” Arjuna began. “The goal of the Black Fang staying in Eshtara was to find the Royal Magic Tombs, raid them, and maintain decent public opinion. What benefit does terrorizing the villagers have?”
The gangly mercenary second-in-command paused.
“… the town was already feeling restless,” Kerem reminded Arjuna. “And some of our members felt dissatisfied with not being able to act for so long. So I let them vent their emotions. That’s all.”
He tilted his head slightly, chuckling with amusement.
“But don’t tell me you’re worried for the villagers, Arjuna?” Kerem scoffed. “This isn’t new to the Black Fang. You’re getting attached. Especially to her, your first mission.”
Leila blinked slowly. Expressions contorted into confusion for a moment.
“Arjuna? What does he mean by… ah.” Her face soured. Turning away from him, sighing-
“No.”
Arjuna grasped the Heiress’s hand firmly. “Look at me, Leila.”
She slowly turned and met his gaze. And couldn’t help the smile from creeping onto her lips.
Because all she saw, when looking ahead - was Arjuna’s gentle eyes. That little smile he had, when being sincere.
“You were my mission at first, along with Nassor. But that hasn’t changed what actually happened during those nights…” he squeezed her hand. “During the tombs. And today.”
The blonde archer laughed warmly, his eyes shimmering with affection. “… and nothing stated I couldn’t fall for my target, did it?”
“Oh, you…! Hmph. Fine! Don’t let me be mad at you for even a minute, jeez…” Leila giggled, a melodic and bright sound.
By now, the collapsed mercenaries had already stood up, groaning and inching their way back to the scene.
Mr. Mali had been watching silently with his wife - and the two children in the circle looked on with awe.
“W-whoa! I didn’t know Lady Al-Thuraya was so cool…!” the young boy exclaimed.
“And Mister Arjuna looks awesome!” the little girl squealed.
Lieutenant Kerem just grinned. A reserved, nonchalant grin, as if none of this bothered him.
“So you have gotten soft,” he called out. “Gaining the hearts of the villagers, rather than fear. Talking back to your superiors. Little Juna feels grown up, does he?”
“Hmph. If being soft means preserving future relations, and saving those who cannot fight back…”
Arjuna spared a small smile at Mr. Mali and his family - and then a determined glare directed at Kerem.
The corpses in the tombs flashed through his mind, filling him with righteous indignation.
“Then I’ll gladly be seen as soft, Lieutenant.”
Silence.
For a few moments, the other Black Fang mercenaries just gawked in utter confusion.
“Oi, our resident pretty boy’s really mouthin’ back to the Lieutenant!”
“Are we fightin’ Arjuna and his bitch or not?!?”
“… will the Captain be on his side, or ours, I wonder…?”
“Quiet.”
All six of the scoundrels shut their mouths, falling into attention.
Lieutenant Kerem’s shoulders dropped. His legs shifted, spreading to shoulder length. One foot ready in front of the other. Just his wooden stick in hand.
“Your punishment will have to come early, Arjuna,” Kerem mused placidly. “Don’t hold it against me. Heiress, you can just stand to the side like a good puppet.”
“AS IF!”
Leila took her own combat stance, channeling the emerald-colored Jiu within.
She flashed a confident smirk - and met Arjuna’s eyes.
“Ready yourself, darling! Surely the two of us will be enough to beat these vagabonds of yours, and this… man with a stick?”
Arjuna’s temporary bow of plum-colored Jiu finished forming in his hands, the string humming softly with restrained power. He drew one glowing arrow and settled into stance beside her.
“Together,” he answered.
Kerem watched them both for a long moment. Then the faintest curl touched the corner of his mouth - so brief it might have been imagined.
“So be it.”
He flicked two fingers toward the mercenaries still standing.
“Continue the lesson. The children first.”
One of the men started forward.
Leila’s starlight flared.
Arjuna’s arrow locked on target.
And chaos broke out.