Lucca the Redeemer
featuring:
Roland the Oathkeeper
The wind whipped a chill into the girl as it picked up her hair and attempted to carry off with it with limited success. Her hand shot to her head to smooth down the wandering locks. Of course, the wind wasn’t the only culprit behind the chill. The sun had already begun to hide behind the tree line, and Lucca quite missed its warm kiss. Night would be upon them soon. And with night…
Lucca turned her gaze towards the towering woods off in the distance. They hadn’t gone right up to the edge of the forest..but they were close enough for Lucca to feel uncomfortable. She had never seen the mighty green sea before.
It was overwhelming.
Even from such a distance, Lucca could see that the trees were massive, each seemingly more gargantuan than the last. And there were so many of them. Once they entered, they would likely not see the sun…
Lucca gulped.
She wasn’t too fond of dark places.
“‘Fear not the unseen nor the unknown, for The Lady sees all and The Lady knows all. And within her sight, no malice shall harm the righteous. The Lady’s Grace is eternal.’” a deep voice boomed nearby. Lucca startled, quickly turning to face Roland. He carried in his arms a bundle of wood. For the campfire, then. She shifted from the wood to his face, but was caught off guard. He seemed to be waiting for…
Oh!
“‘Eternal is the Lady’s Grace.’” she answered after a moment of hesitation. The elder Saint nodded towards her before approaching the tent. He gazed upon it and frowned.
“That’s...rather pitiful.” he spoke. Lucca’s face reddened as she turned her head and crossed her arms. She stole only the briefest of glances towards the tent she had so painstakingly worked on. It...really was pitiful. It was certainly not centered. One side hung higher than the other. The rope seemed ready to give at any moment, with knots holding tightly everywhere except where they needed to be. It was much too high, altogether. It would, at best, cover Roland’s torso and head.
“A-aye…” she reluctantly agreed. Roland looked from the tent to the girl then back.
And he laughed.
Lucca gazed at him, confused, but held her tongue. The elder Saint could be a bit...eccentric at times. Still, he was kind. The Master would have Punished her for such shoddy work but Roland...Roland laughed.
Go figure.
The scent of something...quite frankly delicious smelling caught Lucca’s attention. She followed her nose to see that it was coming from a camp not too terribly far away. The noblewoman and the slave, it seemed. Aye, she would be dining on something savory…
…!
Lucca tilted her head. She could have sworn that she had just seen something but...nothing was there. Odd...she had felt like she was being watched ever since her encounter with the Puppet Mage. Hmm...perhaps it was just her mind playing tricks on her. Although...ever since the treeline came into sight, the feeling had increased. If she wasn’t being watched before, she certainly was now. By what, she couldn’t say. According to Roland, all sorts of beasts called the forest their home…
The sound of timber hitting the ground gave the young Saint yet another start. She turned back to Roland, now fully out of her thoughts.
“You’re distracted. Come, build the fire and prepare for lessons.” Roland barked.
Lucca nodded, immediately moving to the wood which she had then arranged in layers. She gather some nearby stone to contain the fire and went about building the firepit. Once preparations were complete, Lucca stood in front of the pit and gave a quick glance around her surroundings. No one was too dreadfully close, and Roland was a safe distance away.
With that, Lucca closed her eyes and tilted her head. She breathlessly recited a prayer, ending with her tightening one hand around the hilt at her side. Her fingers dug into her hands, her knuckles whitened, and at once, the girl drew her weapon.
The steel shone bright, despite the absence of the sun. It seemingly sung as it cut through the air. As the girl held the blade out to her side, the air around the blade twisted, first warping, then igniting as glorious golden flames erupted around it. She brought the blade back down, relaxing her arm. She took care not to look at the flames dancing upon her sword. The Lady Serafina’s blessing, while righteous and pure, was damnation for the eyes.
She started to light the wood, Roland raised a hand.
You won’t be needing that sword for today’s lesson. Leave it in the flames.” he instructed. Lucca obediently complied, plunging the sword deep into first the wood, then the ground. Within moments, a beautiful blaze was burning. And with that out of the way, she hurried over to her mentor.
Roland gazed upon the rest of the caravan before turning back to the scrawny girl. He had noticed more than one soldier gazing with worry upon the young lass. He wasn’t surprised. She didn’t quite look the part of Holy Warrior. Not yet, at least. It was up to him to fix it.
“Catch.” he ordered, right before tossing to the girl one of other things he had raided from the caravan’s supplies. Old, blunted training blades. One for each of them.
Lucca had to stumble forward, but she did manage to catch the sword. She played with it in her hands for a moment, getting a feel for the weight of the weapon. She glanced over at Roland, who had been doing the same.
“And this.” he added, tossing a folded up piece of fabric in her direction. Another catch for Lucca - a personal best.
“Put it on. Over the eyes.” he explained. Lucca nodded before unfolding the fabric. She studied it for a moment, then folded it another way and wrapped it around her head, covering her eyes.
“Sir...this one cannot see. How will this one fight?” Lucca asked, genuinely confused.
Roland smiled.“A good question. Best get to figuring that one out then, I reckon.” he answered. And with that, Lucca heard only the sound of heavy footsteps coming fast in her direction. She pulled her sword up to defend against what she was expecting to be a hard vertical slash. A skullsplitter of sorts. Yet no crushing pain of steel on skull nor delightful song of steel upon steel played out. Instead, Lucca felt something pulling on her for just a moment, and the next thing she knew, she was falling.
Down.
Straight down.
Into the darkness.
Hitting the ground knocked some air out of her. The rest came out when something slammed very hard against her stomach.
“Death. Walk with The Lady.” she heard Roland call out. It sounded as if he were backing off. Lucca took a moment to gather herself then, following a deep breath, found her way back to her feet.
This was going to hurt.
Still, the girl readied herself, dropped into her stance, and waited.
And listened.
For the sound of Roland’s steps.
…
…
To her left!
Lucca swung wildly. The blade made contact, but it wasn’t clean. It deflected Roland’s attack, but left her off-balance. Almost immediately, Lucca heard the older Saint take another step and soon enough, something hard crashed into her stomach, knocking the wind out of her yet again. Lucca fell to her knees, then felt the cold steel touch her neck. Just a light tap, but the message was clear.
“Death. Walk with The Lady.” he called once more. Lucca panted, sucked in more air through grinding teeth, then found her feet once more.
“Give in to The Lady, Lucca. Trust in her and she will guide your blade true.” he called to her. Lucca could tell that he was now circling to her right. She took a deep breath. She really didn’t want to get hit again. What did he mean?
…
Heavy footsteps came crashing towards her. Lucca shot back, careful not to lose her footing. She pushed with her blade outwards. By some miracle, she had managed to catch his sword and push away the attack. She had also put some distance between herself and the former Captain of the Royal Guard.
Trust in The Lady?
Give in to Her?
…
What did he mean?
More footsteps. Lucca took the initiative and stepped forward, swinging wildly, catching nothing but air. She felt something brush past her, then a quick strike hit against her back before the blunted blade was pressed against her neck again.
“Death. Walk with the Lady.” he muttered again. Lucca muttered something herself, then took a couple steps forward before turning towards him and raising her sword once more.
Trust in The Lady.
Give in to Her.
”~Beckon the beasts~”...alright…
Lucca muttered a prayer and tightened her grip. All she had to do was believe...right? Trust in The Lady Serafina...right?
…
…
Footsteps again. Loud. Frantic.
A loud crackling sound erupted from the direction of the Saints’ campsite. Then another. And another. Afterwards, what sounded like a trio of caws rang out. And shortly after that, three large, golden crows took off into different directions, ripping through the camp and shooting into the sky. They cawed once more, before soaring to the one who beckoned them.
Lucca could hear the sound of Roland’s blade coming down towards her. She brought her own up, hoping to stop it. CLANK! Success! But he was relentless. He threw another strike, and yet again she threw up a block. It was only by the grace of The Lady that she was throwing the right angles.
The cries of the crows from above startled Lucca, and seemingly caught Roland off guard as well. She could hear his retreating steps...but she had to remain cautious. But more importantly…
She had to believe…
She had to trust…
She had to give in…
…
…
Lucca calmed herself, taking deep breaths. She centered herself, abolishing unwanted, distracted thoughts. And once she was empty, she reached out…
…
…
Please…
…
Soon images came flooding into her mind. She struggled with comprehending everything at first, but when she stopped trying to understand it, and simply accepted it, the images grew clear.
She was watching herself from above. She saw her scrawny body, breathing heavily, sword in hand. She also saw Roland, quietly circling around her, studying her...he was a mighty lion stalking the injured gazelle...he knew the kill was in his reach. Now? Now he was just playing with his prey…
He stopped when he was directly behind her…
He quietly approached her, raising his sword…
And Lucca quickly spun around, dropping to a knee and whipping her sword forward.
It bounced off the man’s gauntlet, causing a terrible clang. More importantly, she had struck the sword on the hilt and Roland, who was taken aback, not expecting such a dramatic turnaround, dropped his weapon. Before he could process everything, Lucca had gotten back to her feet, and placed her blade against his neck.
“Death. Walk with The Lady.” she stated calmly.
...Roland was stunned. Lucca was a bright child, aye, but he hadn’t expected her to figure out his lesson that quickly. That was remarkably fast.
...too fast...
Roland laughed. Deep. Loud. Proud.
Maybe he had a damned genius in his midst?
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