Warrior From Dark Lands (Berserk X Claymore SI)

[Doomed.Knight]

I
​

A hazy mist drifted over the ocean's surface. Dark clouds were above, gusting across the sky. It drizzled faintly. For the moment, the weather held, but there would be a storm soon. Land wasn't far away though—a sheer cliff-face of darkly-wetted rock rose where the waves broke, churning into white foam.

A little boat approached the shore. Two figures occupied it, both cloaked and hooded. The shorter one held an oar, steering the craft silently along the current. "The isle of Skellig," he said, his voice muffled eerily by the mist, though it was an eerie voice in any case. "An uninhabited rock, too remote and inhospitable to serve as a waystation between the dark continent and the mainland. Your final destination."

The other of the two did not reply. He pulled his hood back, turning his face to the sea-spray. He was handsome with shoulder-length, dark hair and dark eyes. His features had a hint of boyishness still, belonging to someone who was perhaps not even twenty yet, but with a gravity that made him seem older.

The first one bared his teeth, his corpse-white skin stretching. It didn't look like a smile. "It's not unexpected, I suppose, that you'd find anything preferrable to your homeland. But isn't it a little callous for you leave so suddenly and without a word? There are those whom your whereabouts concern—"

"My whereabouts concern no-one."

"I wouldn't be so certain." The man said. His laughter was ghostly. "At least, I doubt the organization will cease tracking your movements."

"Let them."

"Tsk, tsk." The man said, wagging a finger. "How could you remain this indifferent, knowing the truth? That your own life, the lives of your family members and friends, nay, the lives of everyone you've ever known and could've known—excepting individuals like myself, of course—where nothing more than flesh-offerings made by mad sorcerers. Shouldn't you be a little more upset? I was expecting you to swear a life-long quest for revenge like that number six."

"Not interested."

"Or have you perhaps been swayed," the man went on, his eyes going to a long, wrapped bundle at the boat's bottom. "By Dae's gift. I admit, it is a splendid work, but is the weight of metal heavier in your heart than that of human life—?"

The youth turned slightly to face him, raising an eyebrow.

The man met his gaze, his smile not disappearing. "I'm wasting my time, aren't I? Excuse me, it's a bad habit I've acquired over the many long years. A little amusement serves to keep one's spirits up, even if it's the grim sort. You'd not have stood here today if you were so easily riled," he paused, his grin growing wider. "At least, not as a man."

Silence.

"Come now, surely you wouldn't part with an old friend without leaving a word behind? Sate my curiosity, perhaps? But then again, I suppose that's not needed. I can guess a few things on my own—" A gust of wind whipped his hood back, and he caught it with one hand. His face was as unsettling as his voice, if not more. He was as hairless as an egg with inhumanly paper-white skin. Grotesque veins grew out from under his collar like roots, snaking under his scalp.

"No."

"I suppose that's to be expected," the man said, waving his hand casually. "Wasting my breath indeed." He stepped off the boat, which had arrived on the gravelly shore. He threw the oar carelessly into it. "Take good care of that. You won't find any trees here. Though I doubt you'd make much of a shipwright." He paused, reaching for the rim of his black-tinted spectacles. His eyes were two empty holes. He winked. "Then I'll see you off, Kalev."

The young man didn't laugh at the poor-taste joke. "I, for one, hope to never see you again."

"Wow," the strange man said, whistling. "Hurtful. In any case, farewell." Just like that, he took a step into thin air, and he was gone.

Kalev stared into space for a while, out over the open sea. Then he bent and grabbed the little boat's prow. He pulled it effortlessly onto the shore and into a grotto there. He wouldn't be able to make a fire, but it didn't matter. The cold wouldn't bother him, not even if the entire island was under five feet of snow. He did need to eat, but thousands upon thousands of birds made these cliffs their home, and the surf teemed with marine life.

Once he'd stowed the boat out of the rain in a dim little cavern, he laid down at the bottom of the hull. He bundled his cloak under his head and closed his eyes. One hand rested on the wrapped metal thing beside him, nearly as long as he was. If not it, then anything to defend himself would suffice. It didn't matter that the island was deserted. Long, turbulent years on the dark continent made it so he wouldn't be at-ease otherwise.

II

​

"He's not leaving." An elderly voice said, speaking out of the void.

"It's been days. Weeks." Another concurred, its owner being equally absent.

"What's he doing here?" It was another voice, one that didn't sound quite so ancient.

"Eating. Sleeping."

"Yes, not much it seems."

"He can't be shipwrecked. That odd person dropped him off, but he hasn't come back." There was a pause. "That baldy."

"Yes, we all saw him. He was a difficult one to miss."

"I was just making sure we were all on the same page, Gedfring."

"You needn't have."

Silence.

"So what are we going to do about him?"

"If you have an idea, you old fogey, just spit it out. I've been staring at the lad since dawn broke and I'm starting to get hungry. Danan, is it time for tea yet?"

"Be serious, Skirbil."

"I am very serious. He's just a whelp, leave him on his own long enough and he'll get bored and leave. The youth can't sit still for long. Why, just yesterday, I'd stepped out of the classroom for but a minute—"

"Oh, hush, you. This isn't the place for storytime. The boy's not normal."

"I have eyes, Danan. I can recognize a demon when I see one."

"He's not a demon."

"Well, I say he is."

"He's perhaps one-third demon, at the very most."

"That's not so odd, is it? Even demons themselves are, at most, half demon."

"That's not quite true, Ginnar. When a rend forms in the soul and Evil surges, the physical is remade in the image of that is most unconsciously desired—"

"Don't use the word 'evil'. It makes you sound like an ideolog. Energy is just energy, no matter the form it takes—"

"Quiet! He's doing something."

"Swinging that hunk of metal around, yes. Why the fuss? You've seen him do it before."

"No, but this time he might…"

"He didn't unsheathe it yesterday. He won't unsheathe it today. He won't unsheathe it tomorrow. It's been weeks—"

"Months."

"Yes, months. Could be years, even. I've had my nose stuck in that grimoire, so I've lost track of time." There was a pause. "What was I saying again?"

"Why are you looking at me? How am I supposed to know?"

"I suspect he was going to bring up his dislike of swords, as he usually does."

"Why yes, thank you. Actually, I take a very dim few of cold weaponry. Close-quarters combat as a whole is simply a waste of time."

"You've said that already."

"I haven't."

"You did."

"When?"

A strange silence hung in the air, one that contained, perhaps, a hint of confusion.

"Well, if that's all, then I'm leaving. Can't leave the cauldron boiling for too long. I'm already on my third apprentice and it's getting more and more difficult to find willing subjects after the last incident."

"Don't you mean students?"

"Do I?"

A presence disappeared. Four remained.

"I think I'll invite him to tea."

"Skirbil? Don't you worry dear, that mannerless old thing will invite himself. You needn't go through the effort—"

"Not him. The boy."

"What boy?"

"That boy, Thraein."

"Oh, yes, that boy." The sound of lips smacking followed. "It's a waste, in my opinion. A vagabond like him is unlikely to appreciate a good chamomile, but it's up to you, I suppose."

"Indeed it is, since I'll be the one making the tea. Gedfring, won't you greet the child? Apologize to him on our behalf, if you'll be so kind. As far as extending our hospitality has been concerned, we've been rather tardy."

"Are you sure, Danan?"

"What's there to be unsure about?"

A sigh resounded in the void. "Indeed, he'd not have made it this far if his intent was ill, but that doesn't mean this won't end up being a little troublesome."

"The young are always troublesome, especially boys."

"That's true. I'll be off then. Ginnar, Thraein."

"See you in a bit, Gedfring."

"But get the lad a bath and some clean clothes, for heaven's sake. I don't want to be smelling seaweed while I'm enjoying my lemon meringue."

Gedfring huffed. Then he was gone, as were his three companions.

III

​

A short, wizened old man—or perhaps more dwarf or gnome than man—advanced slowly, seated on the back of an equally wizened goat. A hand as wrinkled as a worn glove tugged idly at the long, sparse whiskers growing from his chin.

Despite his opposition during the meeting, he couldn't help but be curious about the foreign arrival. The child's Od was extremely… well, odd. No, that wasn't the right way to put it, given he had no Od. None that could be perceived.

One third man, one third demon and one third something else, Gedfring thought as his billy goat nimbly descended the sheer cliff-face. What was that one third something else, he wondered. It didn't feel familiar at all. It was that third, he concluded, that was responsible for shrouding his Od.

He wondered and wondered, and tugged at his beard, and wondered some more. How vexing, how vexing indeed. The last few… however many years it'd been, had seen him working as a governor for the menagerie of astral creatures inhabiting the Flower Storm Monarch's domain. Still, he was a wizard at heart. He simply couldn't tolerate an unsolved puzzle.

"Excuse me."

"Hm?" Gedfring said absentmindedly, staring out over the ocean. He tapped his staff against the point of his chin. Shrouding one's Od was difficult enough, but Od was like anything else that could be perceived—there was always some interaction with one's surroundings. If the boy's Od had simply been made invisible, Gedfring reasoned, it would at least be somewhat detectable via its overlap with the astral domain at large. How was this complete blank-out accomplished?

"It's, uh, nice to meet you. My name is—"

"Not now, child. One shouldn't disturb an old man when he's thinking." Gedfring chided, his mind leaping from one possibility to another, but none of them where quite satisfactory. It wasn't natural, he suspected. No, determined. Sorcery was involved.

"My apologies. I'll… wait over there."

"Do so."

Minutes passed while Gedfring mumbled to himself. His bushy eyebrows scrunched together, then shooting upward when he came to some sort of conclusion, but soon furrowing again. It was a long while before he sighed frustratedly, giving up for the time being. He'd give it a good thinking-over after he'd relaxed with a cup of tea. "Now, where did that child run off to? Young boys have too much energy. Far too much." He mumbled under his breath, looking from left to right.

"I'm here, sir."

"So you are. So you are." Gedfring blinked a few times. "Goodness, there you are! What are you standing around for? You should've said something instead of leaving me talking to myself like an old fool."

The dark-haired youth, clad practically in rags, seemed at a loss. He was standing under a rocky outcropping in the shade. The massive sword, wrapped in a faded old tarp, was balanced next to him. Its pommel was higher than his head, and he was not short.

"Never mind, never mind. We'll be late for tea. You drink tea, don't you?"

"Uh," the youth said ineloquently, trying to process the question. He managed after a second or two. "I haven't for a while. I might make a fool out of myself. Especially in such esteemed company."

"There's no esteemed company on this island, boy. You'll see that soon enough. Not amongst those old fogies." He beckoned quickly with his hand. "Come on, then. We need to get you cleaned up beforehand. Though you don't smell too much of seaweed, now that I'm getting a closer look at you."

"Sorry?"

"Don't be sorry, I said. You're attending a tea party witch a bunch of old fossils, not attending the queen's ball—" He stopped, then shook his head. "In any case, climb on back. The cherry pie is best hot out of the oven, when it's still sticky and syrupy."

"Ah, yes. What do I do? Should I sit here?"

"Anywhere. But don't grab on to me like that, you'll pull me right off this beast. I haven't got any weight to me, I'm just skin and bones in my old age."

The goat bleated, protesting at being called a beast.

"Let's be off." Gedfring said when the young man was behind him, holding his massive sword precariously in his arms. He tapped his staff against the ground and the goat leapt. Its movements were entirely unencumbered by the weight on his back.

Strange accent, Gedfring thought, and somewhat familiar. The language was one he knew. The invaders, he recalled, thinking back to a swarm of longboats that'd once rushed over the waters toward Skellig's coast; what were they again? Vikins? That sounded about right. But that had been a very long time ago.

"Where are you from, child?"

The young man looked down at the gravelly coast, growing smaller below them. He didn't answer immediately.

"It's just idle curiosity. If it bothers you, don't mind it."

"It's not that," the boy said after a while. "Truthfully, I don't know. To us, it was just 'the continent'. Though, I've heard it referred to as 'the dark continent'. I'm not sure if that means anything to you."

Gedfring's lips twitched. "Maybe it does, lad. Maybe it does." His expression was briefly pensive, wanting to say something but not knowing how. He shook his head. "Regardless, you've come from far away, and over dangerous, dangerous waters. It's no small miracle you've made it this far."

Things went quiet again, except for the sound of hooves against stone, and the rushing of wind.

"Gedfring, son of Vidd." The old wizard said in way of introduction.

"I'm called Kalev. It's a pleasure to meet you, sir."

"You're more couth than I expected. I'd say it looks out of place on you, but I suspect that impression will change once you're out of those rags."

"I wouldn't want to impose, but a bath would be welcome."

"The crust on you is far more imposing. Feels like sandpaper against this parchment-thin old skin of mine." Gedfring's narrowed eyes, swept the waving grasses that poked out above the rim of the cliff's height. It wouldn't be long before they entered Elfhelm. "I'm being perhaps a tad hasty—I'll have you repeating yourself before long—but what's your purpose for coming here? Something tells me you didn't stumble across Skellig by chance."

The young man smiled a little sheepishly. Since their meeting, his cold, stony exterior had gradually melted away. He seemed a lot more than the nineteen-something lad he was. "I'm tempted to pretend at ignorance, but since I'm fully intending to take advantage of your hospitality that wouldn't be proper."

"Don't worry about being proper, child. You're making me repeat myself."

"Still," Kalev said slowly, looking at the raisined old wizard's back. "I'd like to be upfront. It wouldn't want to surprise you with a difficult request at a later time."

"A request," Gedfring echoed, looking at the boy out of the corner of his eye. "I see. You shouldn't get your hopes up, I advise. Elfhelm doesn't interfere in the matters of the outside world."

"It's nothing like that." Kalev tapped the wrapped sword balanced lengthwise on his lap. "I heard you've a legendary smith on this island. I would like to…" he hesitated a moment. "Entrust this to him. Not forever, but for a while. I'd simply like something to last me in the meantime."

Gedfring blinked, surprised. He hadn't expected such a request. "Well, I can't imagine why you'd ask something like that. I can't give you an answer. You'll have to ask the dwarf himself, though I don't see that he'd refuse. That thing is… most unusual. He has an interest in such unusual things."

"But here we are," he said a while later as they crested the top. Green fields stretched as far as the eye could see. A windswept bush rose up here and there. The sky was cloudy, as it almost always was, the shadows drifting over the grass. There was nothing else. "Don't be too surprised when we pass through the veil." He spurred the mount onwards, toward Elfhelm.

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