Cu'Tak: The Birth of New Art

The night smelled fresh and clean, like a short cut from a sharp razor. Blood had not yet spilled…

Soon it would.

The fighters from Fallien followed the demigod out of the forest in unquestioning silence. Soft boots muffled their footsteps, and veils shrouded their faces. The task Breaker had set before them that night was a tough one, a test of their skill and adaptability.

We’re going to take a manor house belonging to my enemy, he’d said as they sat in the woods in the day’s dying heat. It is well guarded and fortified. We’re going in with no horses, no tools, and no long weapons. Hands, feet, and daggers only.

Not a single soldier had balked at the command. Josh had selected each of the men and women following him from the hundreds that returned to Corone with him after his journeys in their homeland. Those that survived the night would become his officers as he formed the vicious fighters into a surgical guerilla army.

Breaker wore a black silken suit, the likes of which one would see at only the finest restaurants and social events in the neighboring city of Radasanth. Despite being barefoot he moved with speed and fluidity that made the capable warriors behind him look ungainly. Each of the Fallieni wore dark cotton and burlap clothing, a hooded veil, and a heavy-bladed dagger on their belt. Their thin-soled boots pattered like rainfall. Breaker was a shadow.

~ * ~

The manor nestled in a small cove visited by a lonely dirt road, a dozen miles or more to the North and East of Radasanth. It had a small harbor with a thick boom chain guarding two sloops that boobed in the tide. Masoned walls of limestone surrounded the fat house on its other three sides, making it as much a fortress as a home.

The man that lived there could well afford such security. Rumor said his personal vault contained more coin than all the coffers in Radasanth, plus a week’s worth of rations in case he needed close himself inside it.

Dante Farrow. Even thinking the name made Josh want to spit.

The Fallieni fighters halted almost as one body when he stopped walking and raised a fist. The slight woman and the stout man he had selected as his seconds looked to him with eyes wide.

Breaker pointed at the woman, gesturing for her to follow the treeline and scout to the far side of the enclosure. He finished by raising four fingers, and then dismissed her with a wave. The warrior selected four of her peers and stalked deeper into the trees.

Breaker beckoned the heavy shouldered man and then pointed at himself and tilted his head up the short embankment to the road. The fighter bellied down on the ground and crawled up the slope until he could peer at the manor’s main gate. A moment later he returned, lifting two fingers in front of his forearm, and then bouncing the same two fingers from his wrist to the crook of his elbow.

Two guards at the gate, Josh interpreted, and two at each corner atop the wall.

The scouts returned. They had seen no patrols, and reported similar findings; two guards at each gate, and two on each corner behind the parapets.

Breaker smiled like a lion’s yawn; lazy and lethal all at once.

“Well,” he said aloud, “let’s go. I mean to watch the sun rise through those wondrous windows.”

He turned and strode purposefully but slowly up to the road.

~ * ~

The outside of the gate was lit by two heavy standing torches. They cast enough light that the guards, huddled together at the crack between the closed gates, heard Josh before they saw him.

“Eh?” One of the guards snapped to attention as the demigod allowed his heel to scuff the road. “Who’s there? Step forward and show yourself.” The pair of leather-armored men levelled their spears at the stranger.

“I’m here to see your master,” Breaker said quietly. He stepped just close enough to let the light shine on the sleek silks he wore. “Is Dante home?”

“Look, uh, sir,” the guard that had found his voice said, “Mr. Farrow doesn’t see visitors after dark, doesn’t matter if you’re a councilman or Shinsou Vaan-bloody Osiris. What’s your business anyway, and where’s your escort? No gentleman should go about alone in these troubled times.”

“The shadows are my friends,” Breaker chuckled mirthlessly, “I have no need to fear them.”

The guards exchanged a long glance, uncertainty clear on their faces.

“We can pass a message along,” the speaker decided, “but aside from that, I’m afraid you’ll have to leave and come back during the day.”

“And if I refuse to leave?” There was no threat in his voice - just earnest curiosity.

The guards exchanged a longer glance. Was this some sort of test?

“I suppose we’d have to take you into custody then. Can’t have strangers skulkin’ about the walls all night.”

“You certainly cannot,” Josh nodded his approval and then stepped backwards into the gloom. “Come and arrest me then. I will not raise a finger in my defense.”

A third glance passed between the men, and then they both shrugged and shouldered their spears and strode forwards.

Thwiiip-thwiiip!

Both guards fell, clutching at the hilts of the daggers embedded in their throats.

“Hey, what’s going on down there?” A shout rang from the walltop.

Breaker stepped around the dying men and stalked up to the wall, pressing himself flat next to the sealed gate. The guard above would have to lean out just to see him, and finding an angle for a bowshot would be next to impossible.

“Who’s there?” The shout was louder this time. “Where the fuck are the men on gate?” A muffled voice asked a question and got an angry retort. “I don’t know, I swear I saw some fucker on the road but he’s gone now. Get down there and take a look.”

The thundering of boots on rampart stairs drowned out the sound of Breaker’s heavy-shouldered lieutenant approaching. The man flattened himself against the wall on the other side of the gate. They waited.

Clunk.

The bar sealing the gate shifted, and a brighter swathe of lantern light spilled out as they giant doors swung inward. Four guards emerged, two carrying lanterns with shortswords clutched at the ready, the other two wielding spears.

“Pardon me,” Breaker said.

As they turned toward his voice, the stout Fallieni plowed into them from behind. He swung a scarred fist into the jaw of the first he met and seized the spear as the man fell, unconscious. Three stabs later, each swift as a striking snake, and the rest of the guards joined their comrade in the dirt.

Breaker raised an eyebrow at his second. “Hands, feet, and daggers,” he reminded gently.

The bloody spear dropped to the ground as forty Fallieni warriors sprinted out of the darkness and filed into the courtyard. Screams of pain and furious curses tore the night asunder as Breaker followed them in and sealed the gate.

~~~

Meanwhile, far away...

Radansanth was quite the city to behold. It’s legendary citadel was the crowned jewel of Corone’s capital. The woman had taken a hotel room for a day or so, hoping to find a permanent home soon. She had traveled from across the country in hopes of staying here. She was eighteen, aimless, and in desperate desire for purpose.

The three story up hotel room was dainty and timid. The queen sized bed was neatly made with brown and white quilts and blankets. The nightstand next to it was currently cluttered with stuff from her alchemy kit. She had carelessly tossed her other possessions onto the bed; bags, sword, and all. Only her bow and quivers of arrows were leaned against the oak beam wall. She trudged by a cozy painting of Salvar’s northern lights, grabbing a pear from a fruit bowl on the desk. Taking a massive bite, she opened the glass door to the small balcony. Leaning against the rail, she closed her eyes. A pleasant breeze rustled her red hair. Savoring the soft, sweet pear, she opened her eyes again. The city below was crowded with busy folk, even in the evening. As the orange sun set in the purple sky, the towering Citadel cast a long shadow across the town of humble houses and markets. She was sure she heard a blacksmith somewhere in the distance, hammering metal into shape. The smell of fresh baked bread hit her nose. I have to go get some tomorrow!

Yet, something inside her being felt off. Her peridot eyes narrowed, she could feel eyes watching her. She knew what it was too. She pushed herself off the railing with a frustrated sigh.

It had been haunting her steps since she first stepped into Corone’s borders. It was not the eight o’clock chill that made her shiver, but him.

She could not see it yet, but it was here.

She slowly chewed the next bite of pear, looking around. The surrounding buildings showed no signs of the cream colored bird. She had to look at the neighboring balconies. Not there either. A scowl rumbled in her throat. A bout of frustration exploded in her chest. Then, she turned and looked up.

On the white shingles of the roof above, the owl stood vigilantly.

“You!” without thinking, she chucked the half eaten pear at the bird. In a split second, however, it took off. It seemed faster than the average fowl, silently taking off and soaring around. Watching the owl, she took a step back. Who knew why it was following her. She thought she was a fool to come out here unarmed! What did this thing want with her? Why was it haunting her, forever watching her every movement? Goosebumps formed on her pale, Eiskaltian skin as the owl found a perch on a balcony next to her. It watched, waited. Did it want her to speak? It’s amber eyes burned her, and she burnt herself with defensive rage.

She threw her arms, “What are you!?! Who are you?! What do you want with me?!”