Kismet’s Tale

      Erich Baldwin was a man who should have been the leader of the Revolutionaries called the Entres Le Nefarious. That’s what the man he should have been. But what Mavin Tomas found was merely a broken man who had spent time in bars and staring distantly.

He was someone who held a bit of importance in those ‘memories’. Memories that differed from what they are right now. How easy it was to label them as evil or misguided in those memories.

 For in the ‘memories’ they were people who held dear importance to the events. Causing chain reactions that would decide the fate of an Ancient Empire.

Now that man was dead on the ground. Mavin wondered if the roles could be replaced and if so then he would be truly lost on what will happen. Would the people who would lead the events still come and help?

The ‘memories’ he feared and was anxious about had been changed. For the years that he had spent with these memories. It made him wonder for too many times if the people around him are real.

When did I start thinking that?

It was when he had found himself on top of a hill meters away from his home that he saw a great sky filled with stars. Like dots of light scattered and painted across the great black canvas.

He then saw ‘memories’. The ‘memories’ that changed how he saw the world.

“The City-State Police should be coming,” Mavin muttered. He took out the can of lighter fluid from his satchel bag, poured it on Erich Baldwin’s face and lit his face on fire. Then he pulled out his weapons, set them aside, and fired the pistol he kept on his belt once before placing it on Erich’s gauntleted hand. He placed the lighter fluid on his left hand and walked away.

From a distance the patrolman who heard the shot approached the burning face of Erich Baldwin’s dead body. It didn’t take long for more police to arrive and within the crowd that formed. Mavin watched as they poured water on the plate-wearing corpse and tried to identify Erich Baldwin whose face had become burnt.

There was only one person who had crashed a mansion, fired on guards, was wearing plate armor and was armed to the teeth. With most of the sergeants inspecting the body,  and agreeing that there was no mistaking it unless they were all blind.

Mavin wondered if this was right. Nonetheless, he stood by his own choice that Erich Baldwin wanted to die. Erich Baldwin had probably planned to die after killing the person he had probably beaten to death with his gauntlets, but nonetheless, he didn’t know that he’d survive.

It was nothing more than an assisted suicide. 

Mavin had planned to find a good time to speak to Erich Baldwin, but he was someone who could not be approached, and as he had followed him around. He had realized that he was not a person who could no longer be convinced. There was no way for him to even start talking him down.  The Erich Baldwin that he knew in the memories wasn’t the man who still had the confidence in his beliefs. Mavin doesn't know the factors of why he had become despondent and desperate. Why he had gone into this state and resolved himself to directly murder the person he had wanted to bring to justice.

To his ‘memories’, Erich Baldwin was a man who had pride in those memories. A man who had proudly declared that he wouldn’t lower himself to the same level as the ‘nobles’. Mavin thought that there would be a chance to talk about this. But he had come to realize that Erich Baldwin’s case was something that was past proper talk. Even he could not remember all of the details.

His eyes didn’t have any shine on it. He looked tired and lost. He probably would have shot himself, Mavin separated from the crowd. The police took the corpse from the location. The crowd that had formed was told to go home.

Time to go home. Looks like there was nothing that I can do here. Mavin hadn’t proclaimed himself as a righteous person. He had been used to this in the war. Watch young men who had their legs blown apart, stomach shredded by shrapnel, begging for release. He had the same eyes. A man who had nothing to live for.

Could have done something more, tell him that life is worth living, that there is more to life, and that time heals wounds. Mavin rode his motorbike and pedaled it before the engine started while thinking that. But there are people who just don't want to be saved. 

The streets changed as he rode. The bike traveled through stone and cobbled street. Most of the city was lit by electricity and was used around important city blocks. These commercialized city blocks have more traffic. The streets that still had the old fashioned lamp posts were dim and he had to turn on the light on his motorbike to watch the road.

The progress of the city has been wonderful. He could barely remember the streets if it wasn’t for the familiar landmarks and sights. He used to roam these streets finding boons, and materials that could shape him and strengthen his chance of survival. Turned the blood of the Tomas Family into something stronger.

Mavin knew a lot of this world ever since that day on the hill. The things he knew were too much for his young mind. Memories of someone who he didn’t know. Memories that made him question his own self.  His very own existence. He had gotten a lot before going to war and he had become unsure of many things.

Arriving at Tomas’s Ancestral house. He saw that the lights inside were on and the car he had lent Natalya was parked inside of the house. He dragged his motorbike back to the garage, entered the living room and found Natalya in the living room, listening to the radio. They seemed to have been enjoying a conversation.

Three eyes stared at him.

“You’ve been gone for like a day.”

“Good, Sir.”

Natalya greeted first, followed by Old Fred.

“Natalya, Old Fred, looks like you two are enjoying yourself.”

Natalya raised her head. “Old Fred is a friend of the Grand Duchy, and I had seen him swagger around my home long enough to know him.”

“I see. Then I hope that you two enjoy yourself.”

“Bad day?”

Mavin stopped moving his legs. He turned with a rather weary smile at Natalya

“You could say that. Goodnight, you two.”

Mavin climbed up to his bedroom and threw himself on his bed. He laid still and then placed his hands on his stomach, closing his eyes.

I took care of the troubles when I was here eight years ago, before I returned home and went to war. There are still so many of them left, but I can’t be everywhere and convince them or get rid of them. The Cult of Damon would soon come to play.  No, would they even come to this city?

 

---

 

“He sounds moody, worse than usual.”

Old Fred drank his tea, nodding at the truthful words of the young lady.

“Looks like you are used to this.”

Old Fred placed the tea cup down on the saucer. The music coming from the radio sounded out. Old Fred closed his eyes and straightened his back. “The Young Master hasn’t always been like this.”

“Is that so? Even before the war?”

“The master was a joyful young man once. He took many interests and he had been a child who enjoyed many things.. He had been quite the curious one.”

Natalya listened in as Old Fred spoke about the past. Her eyes showed great interest.

“The Young Lord was quite the odd one. He had eccentric hobbies and was sharper than most of the kids around him.” Old Fred recalled the words of the Marcher Lord and his wife, how despite his oddity, they believed that he would grow into a man worthy to lead the Strongarm Clans and rule Lazon.

Old Fred had believed that he would be a fine ruler of the Greater Lazon Regions as well. "But," his voice started to trail. "Then one day, Young Master Mavin Tomas returned to one of his usual trips muted and dulled. He went out that day to watch the stars like always in the nearest small hill where they can watch the stars under the open skies. When he returned there was no light in his eyes. He would stay in his room and would stay in the Marcher Lord’s room as if he was afraid of something."

It was the day where they knew that something had changed the young master.

"He had been a wild spirit that had been able to enjoy the smallest things. Appreciate the lands of Lazon with much love and interest."

And yet one day he had turned odder. He had stayed with his parents, sticking to them, watching them, as if drinking in their presence. Engraving their faces inside his mind. Some even believed that the young master had seen something that made him afraid that day. That there was something bad that was going to happen to the Marcher Lord Gilbert, and his wife, Alicia Tomas. 

The young master looked helpless  and even sometimes desperate. 

They had thought it would soon pass as long as they gave the young lord time. But that time would never come.

There was a tragedy that happened to the Tomas Family. During the early stages of the development of the Demifiend Regions. Monsters, who had been believed to be Alphas of the Demifiends, had decided to attack Viota Tower and the developing city of Jorvi south of North Lazon.

The young master had tried to go to the city in order to try and find the Lord and the Lady in time, and yet when the forces of Lazon arrived, they found the young master, in the middle of the city, near the bodies of the fallen who had successfully put down the Alphas of the Demifiends.

The young master didn’t cry that day. They saw a young man with his rifle slung over his shoulders, hands bloodied, still helped in pulling out the people who had been injured, disabled, and crippled during the horde’s attack. As if he had seen what was coming and was powerless to stop it.

The Young Count, Lord Derrick arrived in time to see the scenery of death and destruction.

It was Old Fred’s greatest shame that he had not been there to protect the Marcher Lord and the Lady of Lazon from the Alpha’s of the Demifiend Region. They had thought that it would take time for the young master to properly mouth. However, they saw a strange strength in the young master. The young master had allowed the annexation of the demifiend regions, which would later lead to Lazon becoming the Greater Lazon.

“So he really was the one who allowed the demifiend region cleanup to continue.”

Old Fred nodded, “It’s no secret that the young master had been the one who had continued this goal after the passing of the late head. It was during that time that he had exerted his full authority as the Lord of Lazon.”

Not only that he had allowed the forces of Lazon to ravage the southern part of the regions. He eliminated the hostile creatures through the use of weaponry that allows them to kill them from distance.

Those who had hidden in burrows and caves were buried by the explosion and the cave-ins.

The forces of Lazon swept through the land and for three years the land itself was changed with their slaughter and cleanup.

With the use of traction engines and machines they were able to carve the demifiend regions into a land that the people could use.

They had purged the region of any hostile demifiends and the rest of the giants were domesticated by the Lazonians.

“The young lord had honored his father and mother. One could say that it was revenge for the death of the lord and lady. But I saw only will in the young lord’s eyes. He had the desire to achieve the dreams of the clans and finish the world of his late loved ones.”

“That’s a rather short time period for so much change, isn’t it?”

“Indeed. It wouldn’t have been possible if it was not for the support of the allies of the Tomas Family and their investment in the technologies of Holmia. The young lord had them focused the development into focal points within the region. Allowing them to build supply lines, logistics, and roads. And at the same compensate for the cost of the development by letting the Holmians gain some of the resources of Lazon. The Strongarm Clans had always dreamed of this. And with their heart and minds focused on accomplishing this goal. For three years we cleared the lands to be our own. Followed with seven years that we had spent time on developing lands. That’s why it is a shame that the young master has no desire to become the Marcher Lord of Lazon.”

Natalya’s eyes shone. “So, he really was the heir of the Tomas Family?”

“Yes, he was heir-apparent, until he had given the role to the Head. The current Patriarch of the Tomas Family, Count Derrick. Right now, he only owns a very small piece of land and the wealth that he had personally acquired. Most of the power now belongs to the Count and the Countess.”

“And no one disagreed about his choices?”

“The Tomas Family and the Strongarm Clans have always admired strength. Count Derrick had the qualifications, the blood, and the wisdom to run the family and the Greater Lazon with the Countess Elma. It was the young master’s choice to hand over the seat of the patriarch. Happily as well. He had done so in order to study in the Capital, not as a Lord of Lazon, but a student that only belonged to the Tomas Family and nothing more. No one could convince the young master to do so.”

“I don’t understand. Still, why is the current Patriarch still a Count?”

“In-name only, he holds the rank of a Count, but on paper he is the Marcher Lord of the Greater Lazon Region. ”

“To have done so much, only to throw it away. Most of the Hundred Nobles would call him a fool for doing that.”

“Yes, but I think the young master cares little of what the hundred nobles think. Fifteen years had passed and now we owned our own breadbasket, and industries. And now that the region thrives, those who had looked with disdain at the impassable lands of Lazon now look at it with greed.”

“Too bad for them then. Since it looks like the Emperor and the Crown Prince will allow the region to thrive autonomously. Especially with his merits and recent actions.”

Old Fred nodded. Natalya wasn’t surprised that Old Fred knew of what happened in Flost City. He had already known what happened and had reported it to the Head of the Tomas Family.

“Still, I wonder what he saw on that hill?” Natalya asked.

What happened that day?

What changed the young lord when he had visited the hill to look at the stars that day?

Even Old Fred couldn’t answer that.