I
Nazeir rode his horse alone. Day and night passed. He passed through towns and villages, and he wasted no time visiting them. As he rode his horse, the inquisitor had to pass through several military camps between the borders of West Batunn and East Batunn, where Brindorian and Uthgaardian soldiers had set up their camps during the conflict.
When the sun was about to set, he accidentally met a group of people resting on the side of the road. Four people sat on the grass around the bonfire they lit. As he passed the four men, one of them called the inquisitor.
"Hey you, with long hair tied back. A checkpoint blocks the road," one of the men called out. "It takes hours to cross if you want to cross the Kwalai River." The inquisitor looked at the man who was the oldest of his friends. "Come here. Share the fire with us," said the eldest man.
Nazeir got off his horse and approached the man. They are aged from the elderly to teenager.
"Checkpoint?" asked the inquisitor as he approached the man and his friends.
"Two actually. We spent a lot of time just crossing the Kwalai river a few days ago. You see, West Batunn and East Batunn are not happy with each other, even though they are related."
Nazeir tied his horse to a tree and joined in sharing the fire with them. As he sat with them, a teenager gaped at the inquisitor's massive body. Nazeir ignored the reaction on the teenager's face and joined the conversation.
"That's right," said a man with a wound in his eye. "Uthgaard has gradually taken control of West Batunn, although they will say that they did all that to protect West Batunn's 'independence' from Brindorum who controlled East Batunn. Its rulers have torn apart the kingdom. Uthgaard has already stationed all his soldiers on the borders of West Batunn with East Batunn, and Brindorum has done the same with East Batunn."
"Proxy war, Abim. Sometimes this great kingdom doesn't interfere when its protectorate kingdom plays mud with others. Likewise..." the old man looked at Nazeir and stopped talking, he fanned the air. "You're covered in stinging blood! What blood is that? A wild boar? A deer?"
"A deer. Should I just go?"
"No! No, there's no need. We all have body odors that are unpleasant to the nobles."
Nazeir who wanted to stand up, immediately sat back down.
"Introduce, my name is Aldi," said the elderly man. "The one with the wound in the eye, Abim. Then under him is Ade. And our youngest brother's name is Royyan."
"Nazeir."
"A deer? So you drive from Brestk in East Batunn? Few people use that road, let alone Brindorian soldiers. Some say that there was a band of robbers with a 'woman' leading them. Need to pay tolls or something else might happen if we don't pay," the old man scratched his curly white hair and continued. "Admittedly, I think they might be right. A wandering merchant was shitting his pants when I met him in horror under a wagon. Do you remember that?" the old man asked his brothers. The four men grinned as they nodded. "I feel sorry for that man. He claims that the leader of the robbers has supernatural things and all that."
"Could be a demon," said the inquisitor quietly.
"Maybe, or a sorcerer."
"Remind me, Aldi. What's the difference between demons and demens?" asked the man with the scar on his face.
"Come on, Abim. I just explained it," said a young adult man.
"Demons and demens? One of them..." the old man thought silently. "I forgot about this. Do you know what's different about this creature?" he looked at Nazeir.
"Demens are creatures that turn into mutants through mutation or something else," the inquisitor said. "Their minds are scorched. They think like wild creatures."
"They don't have common sense anymore? What about the ability to think?"
"They have some thinking abilities. Like gathering with the same species, the desire to spread mutations. And so on. It's almost like when you compare animals to humans."
"What about demons?"
"To put it briefly, they're all creatures of magic. That's all. Sorcerers likes to create them."
"You know a lot about this," the old man was astonished.
"I traveled. I learned a lot along the way. Sometimes I kill creatures like that."
"You killed the demens!?" a teenager asked in a surprised tone.
"Several times," the inquisitor replied.
"How do you kill the demens?"
"I chose not to kill them..."
"But you just said that you killed demens."
"I kill, but more to demons than demens. We can cure demens with some potions or injections."
"Yeah, I heard about this back at the university," said the young man. "Scientists usually heal their creations rather than killing their demens."
"You are living an adventurous life, sir," the old man nodded and stared blankly at the fire. "Where are you going with blood all over you?" he inquire.
"Far. Far enough from... from this border."
"Yes, that's quite true. My brothers and I are heading to West Batunn. We will visit the battlefield. Loot what we can, or what they left behind from the battlefield. The rest just sell it to the right people in the right places."
"For example?" asked the inquisitor.
"A 'good' blacksmith will pay for the cold steel. As far as I can tell, they seem to care little or no about how we get the steel," said the teenager.
"Of course they don't care," replied the lanky young adult. "They are blacksmiths. Steel is steel. There is no law to loot swords or shields after a battle."
"Right," the man with the scar on his face smirked and pointed at his youngest brother. "You know what king Béla said after his coronation? Forty-five long lists of fuck all laws that I needed to read while in the army. Comprising laws against looting the battlefield. Saying that they belonged only to the army."
"You were in the Army of Uthgaard?" asked Nazeir.
"Back then. Sergeant of the fifteenth army. I was under László's command when I joined. That was before he started licking Béla's boots."
"And now Bela is dead," commented the young adult. "Let's hope King Andruss won't write a thousand-page text that tells us nothing."
They nodded, then the brothers shared their meal while the chatter stopped.
"Sorry, I-" the teenager stopped talking suddenly, as if taking his words back.
"What's that?" said Nazeir. "Just talk, young man."
"Where did you find the sword?" the youngest brother stared at Nazeir's sword. He was no more than twenty years old. "You're not an ordinary traveler, are you?"
"What's with that sword?" His older brother looked at the sword that Nazeir was carrying.
"Not just the sword, but... you're wearing armor... and... a dagger over there," he pointed at Nazeir's thigh where a dagger was strapped. "Only certain people would carry such weapons. And people usually fear them."
"What are you trying to say?" asked the younger brother, who has a wound in the eye.
"He's not an traveler, Abim. Could he be... a spy?" he mumbled it.
The man whose eye was injured stopped lifting his spoon, and then only piles of burning wood could be heard in the silent night. He looked at the younger brother who said it, then he faced the inquisitor with his eyes nailed into Nazeir's face. Suddenly, he quickly got up and jumped at Nazeir.
The man pushed the inquisitor to the ground, and he started hitting him right on his face. Nazeir covered his face with his hands, blocking the blow.
The other brothers started rushing and pulled the man back so as not to attack Nazeir. With his muscular body, he stopped his brothers' efforts to break up the fight. When the man was busy with his distracting brothers, Nazeir hit him in the face, which made him fall to the ground.
He sat on the ground holding his face where the inquisitor hit him. He could feel the pain.
"Abim, stop this stupidity," the eldest brother ordered.
"He's a spy, Aldi!" he looked at Nazeir. "Royan is right."
Once again, he charged at Nazeir. He swung his arm. Nazeir parried and locked Abim's arm, dropping him to the ground. The inquisitor's hands wrapped around the man's neck and strangled him. All his brothers panicked when they saw the inquisitor beginning to put Abim to sleep.
"Calm down," said Nazeir to the rebellious Abim. "I'm not a spy."
The man's struggle slowly faded. Then he was unconscious. When Abim faints, the brothers walk towards the two, seeing their brother who is unconscious on the ground.
"I'm sorry. Abim wasn't always like this. Maybe because his rough life as a soldier made him so stressed about something," said Aldi, the eldest brother, embarrassed.
"You shouldn't accuse the guy of being a spy, Roy! I think you need to learn when to keep that mouth shut," Ade rebuked his brother.
"Let's calm down first," said Aldi. "Ade is right, Royyan. Never accuse someone before you know who he really is."
The boy frowned and lowered his head. "Sorry, Al."
Aldi shook his head. "Let's bring him back to the fire," said the eldest brother.
II
Silent night. Roy and Ade were already asleep, leaving Aldi and Nazeir standing guard by the bonfire. Aldi holds the bottle in his hand while Nazeir spends his time staring at the fire. He could feel the warmth and heat it gave off. Smoke faded into the night sky with hundreds of stars illuminating the world.
Aldi lifted the bottle, offered the drink to Nazeir, which he declined. The old man smirked.
"When you joined us, you refused good warm food, as well as a good night's sleep. At least if you can appreciate what we do, just drink from the bottle. Or, if you want more than this, please take a little from the cart."
"I don't want to drink right now. Also, people like me get a little sleep."
"Why so? Insomnia?" he smirked in his drunkenness.
"I'll tell you something people won't know while you're drunk."
"And what is it?" the man leaned against Nazeir.
"You know about the inquisitor?"
Aldi was silent for a moment, his eyebrows raised, and then let out a loud laugh. He tried to hold back the laughter and fell lying on the ground.
"Nonsense,"
"Oh, it's true."
"Are you hunting demons and demens? Oh, oh! Did you help the king and queen of the South stay away from the misery?" Aldi laughed.
"Funny?"
"Yes," Aldi stopped grinning. "I thought it was funny."
The two smiled, and the drunken man kept the laughter from waking the others.
"It's surprising that a man like you isn't dead yet. Especially when you strangled Abim to sleep? That's something I've never seen before!" he smiled in disbelief as he shook his head. "He's the only one who can protect us from all kinds of beasts or hordes of thieves. That military training seems to have helped us more than it helped him. But yeah.... right after you put him to sleep, everything changed," he paused to take a sip from the bottle. "Tell me, how did you learn it? Are you part of the military too?" he stopped again. "Is my dear little brother right about you being a spy?" Aldi said it slowly and silently while tilting his head. Nazeir did not answer. "If you are not a soldier or a spy. Who are you? What is your job? A hunter who only uses his sword to kill his prey?" Aldi knew that he had guessed wrong. "No? What about a knight who fell from his honor, who now lives on the street just to survive the... greed and evil people in the palace?" Once again, Nazeir didn't answer the drunkard's long-winded remarks. "Maybe the last one sounds too much like a legend." Aldi raised his head when he had an answer. "If you're neither of them. Maybe you're lost. You shouldn't be here, maybe, and you just don't know what to do..." Aldi grimaced. "Just like me... but not them," Aldi repeated, and looked at their sleeping brother. "Especially Roy. That kid has a bright future, I know that. Unlike his eldest brother, who lives just down the road. I still have about five to ten years left. My wife and children.. I am nothing but a shell, with the only thing that keeps me going is them. They fill my life with joy. If I were to end it here, a drop of alcohol would get the job done." The eldest brother turned to Nazeir. "Listen, friend. Fill your free time with your family, friends are just around the corner. We don't know when we will leave them, family is precious. Don't make the same mistake as me. For I'm lost with no way out."
The man was silent for a moment and looked at Nazeir more closely. "You're not lost, are you?" he said, which was followed by one last gulp before collapsing after the last beer he drank.
Nazeir was just surprised to see him. He didn't speak at all. When the four of them slept, the inquisitor sat waiting for the fire to go out.
III
Birds flew overhead, chirping as they passed Nazeir and the four sleeping siblings. Nazeir stood up from his seat and quietly left them. He mounted his horse and continued on his way to the military checkpoint on the banks of the Kwalai River.
The road was deserted. Not a single soul looked into the inquisitor's eyes, just an open field with nothing new to see. Slowly, as he approached the river, he saw the former campsite in an open field. He approached the site and saw that hundreds of disheveled footprints left behind the huge tracks.
"A large enough place for soldiers. They have abandoned it for a few days. The plains are open, good for spotting attacks. Hundreds of soldiers? No, it's bigger than that." When Nazeir looked closer, he could see the place in more detail. "There was blood on the ground. Someone heavily attacked the camp. Were they caught off-guard? Maybe at night?"
Nazeir followed the path to the river, looking for soldiers who had left the site. He finally came to a large stone bridge that crossed a large river. However, there was no one in front of him. Crossing the bridge, there is a forest surrounding the path. He looked around him, only birds and squirrels he found. While exiting the forest area, the inquisitor found a group of soldiers on horseback guarding the road at the edge of sight.
As he approached the soldier, one of the four soldiers shouted at him.
"Stop! Who are you?" the soldier shouted as loud as he could.
The inquisitor stopped. "traveler," Nazeir shouted back.
When Nazeir was in front of the soldiers, he was told to wait. The soldiers talked to each other in the distance while the inquisitor waited for an answer. Minutes passed, then hours of waiting began.
Long after that, a soldier came.
"Follow me."
He started riding his horse to the checkpoint, then the two arrived in front of the small tent at the post. Nazeir got off his horse and was led into a tent. Inside sat a man in shining armor, covered from head to toe. The soldiers sent the inquisitor to the man, and the two faced each other.
"Who are you?" he asked while he was writing a letter. "And why-" he cut himself off and plugged the hole in his iron helmet. "What is that smell!?" the man looked at Nazeir. "Both of you, take this man to the back. Give him some refreshing water."
The two soldiers guarding the tent grabbed Nazeir and escorted him outside. They pulled out a bucket of water and poured it over Nazeir's head. The men then brought him back soaking wet to face the knight who was in the tent. Nazeir faced him in annoyance, and the knight could read his face.
"That's better. Now tell me. Who are you? And what was the purpose of crossing the border?"
"Traveler, returning from Brestk, East Batunn."
"The purpose of going there?"
"Find a work."
"Work?" The man raised his head at him. "There's a lot of work in Uthgaard. Go there and see for yourself. We don't want you collaborating with those eastern villains."
When the man turned his attention back to the letter he had written, he accidentally saw that Nazeir was wearing a sword and leather armor with chains. The knight raised an eyebrow.
"What are you wearing? It looks like some kind of armor, but I've seen nothing like it," he stood up and took a closer look at the inquisitor's armor. "It's boiled skin... but tougher."
"I've put something in it," Nazeir tapped on his own armor, they can hear a thump sound as he tapped.
"Too bad, boiled skin can't withstand the heavy blow of the sword," the knight drew his sword and pointed it at Nazeir's chest. "But if the 'something' you put in is strong enough to keep it safe from the sword blow, maybe you'll live another day."
The two stared at each other. Nazeir could see the eyeballs of the knight under his helmet. The knight slowly drew his sword away from Nazeir, then sheathed it back.
"So, can I pass now?" Nazeir asked.
"No, we'll wait for the marshal to come here," he explained as he returned to his seat.
"Good," he said sarcastically.
Nazeir came out of the small tent, waiting for this marshal to come. Before long, he saw a man in his armor riding a horse at high speed towards the post. When he reached the checkpoint, he got off his horse and went to the tent. When he opened the tent, he stopped his fast-moving steps and turned to the inquisitor.
"Master inquisitor?" he asked.
"Robert. Nice to meet you here."
"Likewise, master," he smiled behind his thick mustache. "W-what are you doing in this place?"
"I'm back from Brindorum. Looking for work in the east, maybe those people have something that requires my special skills."
The bald man put his hands on his hips. "I hope you did nothing that would harm us," he smirked, "did you?"
"No. Robert."
"Then I'll see you later. I need to meet someone."
Robert went into the tent alone, leaving the inquisitor behind. He could hear the discussion inside the tent, and it almost sounded like a debate. The two men left shortly after discussing, they looked at the inquisitor who was standing still.
"Fine, you can go now. Find your job in the capital," Robert said and winked. "And never cross the border again."
The inquisitor ignored Robert's dramatic ramblings and simply mounted his horse. As he was about to leave, Robert shouted again.
"How do I know you won't run from another checkpoint? You will come with me." Robert walked to his armored horse and rode it next to Nazeir.
"Marshal, I will send two of my bodyguards to help if something bad happens on the way back," the knight called.
"That is unnecessary, my lord. You will need the manpower here."
Robert looked straight ahead and left with Nazeir. While riding together, the inquisitor glanced at the marshal.
"That's unneeded, Robert. All the drama."
"Oh, don't tell me you feel insulted by that, master? You know it's just an act, don't you? The knights and dukes of today think they're tough, a proper work of art. These primdonna don't know what, how, or when to be tough," joked Robert. "So what's really going on in the East over there?"
"Like I said. I looked for a job, and I couldn't find anything."
"It doesn't look like it," Robert pointed at Nazeir's back, revealing a scar that was still clearly visible through his armor. "Then what is it?"
"This? It's been around for a long time. It's healing itself."
"God, I wish I had such a gift. If I could heal this wound on my back instantly, I would be the happiest person in the world."
"So, about the checkpoint," Nazeir changed the subject.
"We're talking about checkpoints now, master?"
"Are they working against the Brindorian army?"
"I hope so. Any of the break-ins or sabotage has not hit us. Maybe we can avoid many unnecessary incidents."
"Then my only job will be done. Maybe I can finally go broke from this."
"Why not just retire?"
"That I can't do. My life is only war economy or hunting from demons to demens. But war economy is the main thing."
"It's kind of hard to think of having a job like yours, master inquisitor. Especially before ending those things," Robert paused. "Have you ever thought about demons and demens when they weren't what they are now? Like, if you were going to kill someone who was actually innocent. Maybe they were a farmer, a priest, or a mother?"
"You know what it feels like to kill too, right? I never tried to think about it. Maybe the therapy really does work."
"I never knew about the realism of being an inquisitor. Until now, I still don't understand your mental and physical appearance when you face these creatures," Robert looked at Nazeir. "Do you remember when you become an inquisitor?"
"I rather not talk about it."
IV
"Almost there. Last stop," said Robert.
The two men saw a tent with a watchtower with a soldier on it. The small garrison seemed to be in perfect discipline when they saw Robert approaching with Nazeir. Several off-duty soldiers stared at Nazeir as they passed their garrison with their marshals. Nazeir looked at the soldiers who just stared at him.
"Robert?"
"Master?"
"Are you sure you don't need my skills?" he asked.
The bald marshal grinned.
"You must have wire muscles and iron bones. But for now, we don't need that, sir. We've handled it quite well," he replied. "But that doesn't mean we don't need your help. We can also use a help. But not for now. We made the Brindorian soldier escape from their encampment a day ago. Now we're just waiting for our reconnaissance party to return."
Nazeir lowered his head. "It's okay."
"I hope you don't take this as an insult, master. We trust you very much. That is the King and I."
The two men stopped as they approached the small wooden barricade blocking the path. The soldiers took the barricade and moved it aside, making way for Nazeir.
"Here it is, master. The final checkpoint."
"Thank you, Robert."
"Goodbye, sir. Have a safe and sound journey."
Nazeir nodded at the marshal before he left the checkpoint in the distance.
V
The inquisitor continued on his way as the clouds darkened. He could hear cries of thunder. A storm was coming. In the distance, he saw a man riding a horse speeding towards him. Nazeir looked at the man, one of Uthgaard's soldiers. He was in a hurry, riding past Nazeir. The inquisitor looked back and saw the soldier riding to the military checkpoint he had passed.
Then, the rain came. His clothes became heavy as the rain made his armor wet. However, he kept ongoing.
As he continued on his way, not too far from the checkpoint, he heard screams and clashes of swords blocked by the sound of the storm. The inquisitor sensed that something was wrong, so he rode fast in the direction the sound was. The screams grew more intense as the rain grew heavier. And there he saw it, a vast army encampment of Uthgaard surrounded by a large wooden wall was under attack. Not by humans or demons or demens, but by magic. Nazeir could feel it from the distance. The magic had made all of this. Not too far from the army camp, there was a dense forest. The trees of the forest stood up and live like humans. The giant trees walked into the army camp and attacked the soldiers on guard.
And from the ground appeared stones carved as humans with swords and spears, ready to attack the camp. The soldiers who fought with them couldn't do anything when the stone met their iron swords.
The inquisitor sat on his horse in disbelief at what he saw before him.
"No... what have they done!?" he said to himself as the camp was destroyed.
As he watched the camp get annihilated to the ground, a group of horsemen approached him from behind. Robert and his bodyguards came and watched from a distance as Uthgaardian army fought the forest soldiers. The marshal stopped beside Nazeir, horrified at the plight of his army against the forces of nature. The inquisitor grabbed the man's arm and shook him.
"What are you doing? What happened!?" he is screaming. "Why did the forest wake up!?"
"I did nothing! We did nothing!" Robert replied, again shouting at the inquisitor in panic.
"Something must have woken them up," he paused for a moment.
Nazeir looked around the open wet field and saw nothing that could help the battle. He opened his pocket and took out a small stone that glowed red. He drew his sword, then pressed the red stone against the cold steel sword. The stone melted like butter, absorbed by the steel of the sword. A huge fire suddenly appeared, setting Nazeir's sword on fire in the rain.
Robert and his bodyguards moved away from the flaming sword in surprise. The man froze as the inquisitor wielded the fire sword below the rain.
"You can only destroy trees with fire. Gather your men, marshal!" said Nazeir as he went into battle with his sword blazing in the rainstorm's darkness.
The inquisitor drew closer to the battle, then he heard the sound of a trumpet blowing loudly. He rode in the midst of the soldiers fighting the stone soldiers while he headed for one of the giant trees. The ground was muddy; the horse became slower and slower as it stepped on the thick and deep mud.
A giant tree saw Nazeir in the distance with a sword blazing in the darkness. The tree giant picked up a large rock from the underground and lifted it high in the air. Nazeir saw the giant tree swing its arms and the stone flew towards him. The inquisitor dodged the boulder and caused it to hit Uthgaardian soldiers who were fighting behind. As he approached the giant, Nazeir readied his sword which was burning. Just below him, Nazeir cut the leg of the giant tree while riding his horse. The blazing sword slashed through the tree like a hot knife through a piece of flesh, smoke rising from the sturdy tree trunk. The giant screamed in a deep, ear-splitting voice before falling motionless.
The inquisitor watched as Uthgaardian soldiers climbed up the fallen giant and burn it with oil and fire. As the flames engulfed its body, the giant roared loudly. The magical creature knocked all the Uthgaardian soldiers down from his body. Those soldiers flew like ants that were flicked by human. The giant patted himself. He tried to extinguish the fire that burned his body. He rolled on the ground, but he couldn't put out the fire.
When the giant burned to death and did not move, all the soldiers cheered with joy. But the other giants did not. They see their comrade burn to death.
When the inquisitor looked back ahead, two giant trees stood and blocked the small path leading to the forest. He rushed towards the forest, sensing that there was some magic behind the guarding of the two giant trees.
As the inquisitor approached, the giants regrouped and blocked his path. The inquisitor slowed his horse, not seeing an entrance for him to pass. Just when he thought that there was no way to break through the giant's defense, fireballs flew over Nazeir's head. The catapult launched barrels filled with oil in burning conditions, they targeted the giant trees. The giants moved away from the burning flying barrels. A barrel hit its target, knocking the giant to the ground. Another barrel missed its target and set fire to the forest behind it. Nazeir slipped past the fallen giants and into the forest behind him.
Nazeir remained galloping into the silent forest. When he felt the chill of the stormy air, suddenly the rain stopped, and the sound of the raging battle had disappeared when the inquisitor entered a dozen meters into the forest. The sword was sheathed, and the fire was extinguished. He halted the horse. He dismounted from his horse, touching dry ground. The inquisitor could breathe fresh air. The sun shone a warm light on the inquisitor. Like they meant it for him.
The peaceful forest was empty, with a small pond in the middle. The man stepped closer to the pond. He saw himself, a bearded man in his early thirties. He touched the water, and it made a small, surging vibration.
As he checked the water, he heard sandals stepping on the grass. The inquisitor quickly unsheathed his sword and the flames came back to life.
An old man walks with a tree branch as his stick across the pond. He wore long clothes that covered his entire body and sandals while walking alone in the forest.
"It's just a pond," he said hoarsely. "There's nothing special about it."
He stopped and looked at the pool as the previous inquisitor had done. He saw their faces in the water's reflection.
"Earth, that's where we came from. And that's where we'll be."
"Who are you?" asked Nazeir he said as he drew his sword. The flames of the sword came alive again.
The old man tilted his head, looking at the inquisitor's sword. When his eyes fell on the sword, the fire went out immediately. Nazeir froze and grumbled in annoyance. His feelings were right, all this oppressive feeling came from his magic.
"You showed your abilities. You have abilities that no one else has. Who exactly are you?"
"Just like you. But a different path. Where people give you power, nature and its gifts give me."
Nazeir strengthened his grip and stance.
"Were you the one who attacked the camp?"
He silently looked at the inquisitor arrogantly.
Nazeir raised his eyebrows.
The old man stepped closer and raised his hand near the tip of his sword. And when he touched it, the sword rusted. Nazeir dropped his sword to the ground in a panic. The old man stepped closer, then touched the inquisitor's forehead with his index finger. Nazeir lost his balance then he fell into the pond. The pond that turned out to be the deep blue sea.