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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/1171774-Emerald-Surface-Chapter-1
Rated: 13+ · Novel · Action/Adventure · #1171774
Three young adults quest to find six crystals& save the land from shapeshifting creatures.
         Just Lothair. Only your average run-of-the-mill mercenary, dedicated to the arousing scent of green paper-built currency, in a world ruled by sires, lordships and “miladies.” Everyday, or occasionally once a week, some Sally Sobstory or a Harry Hardluck would enter my domain, giving me the usual Find-My-Cats, or Find-My-Children. But I am not one for such an insignificant career; I need to get out of this place, this Lutz city.

         Before their untimely death, my parents left to me in the following will their beloved swords, one belonging to each parent when they fell victim to a surprise attack during a liberation mission in Sforgsdam. I keep the swords as if they were my parents, and I care for them, Anabelle and Sirius. I have had years spent on learning how to wield dual swords, but to no avail.

         The swords themselves are a mystery to me. The hilts are uniform, enclosed in a hand guard that covers both sides. They were given to me without a sheath, yet the blade is extremely sharp. The one feature that utterly tantalizes my brain is the series of cracks along the faces of both swords, each crack interlocking into the next. By some sort of will or determination, the swords still have not faltered, even throughout the most rigorous of training sessions…

         It was the 15th hour of the day, the 2nd of the 5th month of the year of our Lord Dargase Thirty-Hundred Twenty-Seven of the Third Age. I had just returned to the Just Us Mercenary Service with a bewildered look upon my face, an indeterminable expression, revealing Joy? Fear? Happiness? Appears that happiness turned out to be the majority. Davis Sivad, a genius in the art of close-quarters combat and battle involving a two-handed sword, was regaling himself with memories of old and enjoying a bottle of ‘57 Caracase across the room.

         Davis Vadis Sivad, Jr., line-broken heir of Sam Serway of Faughn, was born into a family that once ruled over the prestigious city of Faughn, but the royal line was broken after the sudden death of Sam Serway some odd thousand years ago. Serway’s wife conceived a child of which gender was not allowed to rule at the time. There was a chain of women over the years (Some would call it a curse at most), and the name of Serway was lost. The line was restored with Davis Sivad Sr., and even now no one knows that Davis Sivad Jr. is destined to take the crown of Faughn. To this day, Davis is my best friend and one and only employee at Just Us.

         Davis summoned a smile at my expression. “So, how did it go Just?” David queried. “What incredulous accomplishment did you conjure up?”
         “Ah-ha-ha-ha,” a sarcastic laughter was tossed from my lips. I knew Davis was hinting something. “Well, if you absolutely must know…” I continued after a short pause and a hand gesture, “The Nexus Crystals have been discovered!” A newspaper from today was summoned, folded mind you, from my shorts pocket, adjacent to my maroon shirt under my open blue vest.

         “Preposterous!”
         “Try me.”
         Davis almost snatched the newspaper from me as he analyzed it to uncover the truth.
         “You know what this means, Just?”
         “Well, I doubt if I’m very familiar with the step-by-step procedure…”
         “It means…” there was a linger in Davis’ words which carried onward and reflected off the maroon walls, almost as if there was an echo in a monastery. Davis continued: “That the parade in Province Cantase is to be expected. According to this article, the Nexus Crystals were discovered and harvested yesterday. ‘Pope Julius to disperse the other six crystals to the remaining kingdoms.’”

         “So, Province Cantase?” I decided to take a seat on the tough and uncomfortable wooden bench stationed next to the entrance. I sort of considered Just Us to be an enigma of places, at least in the matter of design. With hands promptly placed to support my head, I take a quick glance around, diverting my attention away from Davis. Just Us is simply a small building, no larger than your neighborhood Cut-’n’-Go, registration desk on the West wall, and a few columns of books with novelty weapons on top of the bookcase obstructing the opposite wall and half if the South wall. The South wall leads to a door labeled STAFF ONLY.

         “Why Province Cantase?” I continued.
         “Are you seriously that daft?” My attention relocated itself to the Prince Prodigy. He took a few steps toward the exit and continued, “Lord Paul? That ring a bell?” I didn’t have time to think as Davis pressed on with his interrogate-then-answer technique.

         “Just, Lord Paul has been accompanying the Manor of Cantase for lodging purposes ever since the last month or so.”
         “Well, pardon me if I don’t like to listen to the news while I’m out attending to old ladies and finding their accursed cats and scraping their irresponsible children off the streets…”
         “Hmm. I suppose I do feel some sympathy for your predicament.” Davis watched the large clock tower of Lutz some odd half-mile to the decimal outside, and noted: “So then, let us skip the formalities and simply go to Province Cantase. You game?”
         “Yeah, let’s go.”

         Province Cantase is located approximately 42 kilometers away from Lutz, so we made preparations. The swords, the map, the healing substances, and Davis and my own “Mystery Book.” The “Mystery Book” was writ by us two, back when the going was tough and the tough got going, before my dual sword training, before Just Us, before we stumbled upon Lutz. This book was our life. On our quest to find our future (Yes, Davis is an orphan as well), we continuously took notes upon our journey, the creatures, the small cottages in the woods, the people, what and what not to eat or use for benevolence.

         Our two horses, Shadowsnap and Wryder, belonging to
me and Davis respectively, were stationed around the back of
Just Us, as punctual and prompt as they should be. We place our faith in the purebred azure colored horse Shadowsnap and the Cinnabar-tinted hybrid Wryder, that they should take care of themselves and arrive to us when needed. Somehow, they always seem to beat Davis and me to the chase…

         Book -- Check, Gear -- Check, Transportation -- Double Check. Only a few saddle packs, and we trotted along the outskirts of Lutz. I decided to take a little precaution and visit a small cottage I had known about. Even though it was naught but a simple trip to Province Cantase, the distance was still a great travel. Anything could happen. SAM’S IMPORTS AND GOODS centered the banner hovering over the entrance of the cottage. It was a small cottage, slightly secluded from Lutz; it was meant to be a wanderer’s first stop. Sam’s philosophy basically involved the transfer of the shirt of a wanderer for assistance and treatment, but it also doubled as a small import/trade shop. Samuil was the twin of his older brother, aptly named Samuel, (Samuel being the inherent owner of the shop but has been MIA for years) and he was the shifty-eyed person.

         “Just, how does it go?” Sam greeted us, coming from the back room with his hunched back and carting over a few scattered potions and serums and knickknacks and all sorts of benevolent debris used for his creations. His complexion was the same as a man with at the very least of fifty-six years buckled under his belt; the determinable wrinkles upon his face gave him the appearance of a six year old hound dog.
         “Yeah, we just came back from the top of Mt. Siliador and vanquished the Lava Dragon of --” I had to interject in Davis’ ramblings, an old man of Sam’s age would be as naïve as the day he sprang into life. “What Davis is trying to say Sam, is that we are to go to Province Cantase soon --”
         “And?”
         “Please, if you’ll allow me to finish. What I am asking for --”
         “Give us the Cervix Potion, old man!” Davis completely overshadowed me with his statement as he literally climbed over Sam‘s desk and grabbed the old man by his shirt collar. Sam replied with: “Listen kid, I don’t know what you’re talking about!”
         “Davis, maybe you shouldn’t be so tough on him, after all he is a senior citizen --”
         “Stay out of this, Lothair! Look old man, if you don’t hand over the Cervix Potion this instant, you will live to regret it.” Davis tightened his grip even more. At that moment, old man Sam simply chuckled under Davis’ grip which heightened into a heartening laughter.
         “Oh-ho-ho! You two always seem to find one way after another to make my day!” Davis released his grip and let Sam go. The three of us laughed, and I said, “Heheh, yeah that was an excellent good-thief-bad-thief reenactment, Davis.”
         “… What are you talking about, Just?”

         After retrieving the Cervix Potion from Sam, we returned to the outside of Sam’s shop. “Shadowsnap!” I called, and “Wryder!” was called from Davis. We mounted the two horses, and began our journey to Province Cantase.

         The Woods of Boleros are merciful in a sense, I suppose. Not many savage creatures claim these grounds as theirs except the occasional mini-wyvern that may cross one’s path, but only occasionally. No matter what the season is, whether it’s the flourishing side for trees or waning, the leaves are always scattered about in the tall grass with oaks and pines at least thirty feet tall and over. The only possible way to navigate is by way of horseback, with a map and compass or directional spell, a spell of which only the greatest guild warriors have knowledge of. 42 kilometers, eh? Shouldn’t be too much of a problem.
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