Crimson Reprisal [STOPPED FOR NOW]

♦ | A Generation Ago

FLURKIN

"Goodman, how much would that costs?" Pointing at a dirk, towards the far end of the rack, Flurkin asked the owner of the shed. It was just around the corner of Treemor Town, lying next to the blacksmith's. The eerie sound of metal smelting was crashed through the ears of the costumers every two seconds.

"That one's a black metal. It'll costs twenty gold coins," the owner replied with a grin of a clown. It had seemed to him that the boy was unintelligent for not recognizing it.

Shook by his words, Flurkin responded him with a slight confusion, "It's just a tiny dirk. It can't costs more than a gold coin."

"It's from Azoma."

"The fallen kingdom?" Flurkin asked in an unsure tone.

"Yes, young man. Haven't you heard about it?" Wiping the dusts away from the edges of the swords, the owner of the shed replied with his eyes occupied by his work.

"No, goodman. Tell me more about it, will you please?"

"It is said that the Black Knight was slayed by an Azlys using an Azomian metal - black metal."

"The Black Knight?... The Azlys?..." Flurkin was utterly lost by now. He was definitely not keeping up with the owner's words.

"Yes, the Black Knight. The last dragon... No? You don't read, do you, young man?" The owner carried on with the history he had known after Flurkin shook his head while his thoughts smudged to a lump of mess. "The books written in the past stated that men who accepted the dark power of magic, also known as Azlys, were responsible with the death of the last dragon, the Black Knight."

"Azlys, huh?"

"Yes, they look just as human as you, but possess wicked art of magic which rebels against the Rogs. Men were not supposed to inherit magic powers."

"Then... where are they now?"

The owner stopped wiping the swords and turned his head towards Flurkin. After a moment of silence, he chuckled out of the red, "Oh, you're a silly one. They don't exists. They're just tales from the past. No one had ever seen magic, ever. The Azlys are a myth, so are the dragons."

Remembering that beyond the wall, there was a land named 'Last Dragon', Flurkin questioned the owner as he scanned the racks of swords with his eyes, "I thought dragons were real. I've heard from my father that they found remains of a dragon near the Middle Plains."

"I tell you something, young man. Men only wish to hear and see what they want. Even the remains of an obese man could be believed to be the remains of a giant." The owner burst out of laughter and walked towards the rack. He carefully placed the swords back to where they belonged.

"But my father would never ---"

"Flurkin! Flurkin!" Laydon's voice appeared abruptly caught Flurkin's attention. He turned his head towards the entrance of the shed and saw two young man panting as if they had ran around the fences of Treemor Town for the entire day.

"Hey, what's the matter?"

"Flurkin... you have to see ---" Laydon was interrupted by his little brother, Lennin, more energetic than ever, "Come with us! We don't have time to explain!"

"Okay, but ---" The brothers dragged Flurkin across the main town of Amor. Pushing away the crowds and the traders, they sprinted towards the town hall. Flurkin, still fogged by what was happening, asked for the tenth time, "What's going on, Lennin?"

Lennin leading the way, shoving men towards his left and right, replied in a hurried tone, "It's the Sevi! The Mind and the Sword are here!"

Once they reached the compound of the town hall, they were submerged in the crowd of Amorians. The sound of chanting filled the stuffy atmosphere. "Kill them! Kill them!"