The Land beneath the Black Mountain is where we reside. Throughout cities, and towns of great distance, these lands are referred to as The Red Valleys, because it was where magic was found, and hence where every trouble of today's society was born.
Axel closed the book and sighed. He sat by the doorpost of a building, and stared into the half-empty streets. The night fog was descending from the mountain, and an unpleasant mist followed, making the red moon a bit harder to observe.
His white hair fluttered in the wind, while his azure pupils watched the children running through buildings in the distance. He hated it here, but each time he saw them, his heart was eased.
Then came the pitter-patter of hooves. One horse neighed to a stop, and a short-haired, armoured man of fierce eyes paused to speak with him.
"Walter! You're ba-!"
"What are you writing?" Walter asked, getting off his horse. There were healed claw marks streaked across his right eye, where an eyepatch rested.
He had a rather solemn gaze.
"I'm working on a book," answered Axel. "But I wish to gather lores around the world before starting."
"Well, that's too bad," remarked the man as he walked past Axel, removing his breastplate. "A traveller's dream. Naive."
"But Knights travel around the world, don't they? They move through cities and conquer dungeons."
The man paused by the doorpost. "You think you can become one?"
"...."
For a moment, there was a quiet, just occasionally disturbed by the hurried footsteps of kids playing around, or by horses neighing and racing through the street.
The man said nothing and left, shutting the door tightly behind him. In his absence, was a consistent clicking of a makeshift door knocker—an unrotting fang, suspended from a peg.
It wasn't that Axel doubted himself. Neither did he suddenly lose his voice. He simply couldn't speak. Because he knew what could have happened with Walter.
He must have failed the Trial.
The thought brought him down in sorrow, for he could remember how excited Walter was when he left for the expedition. However, if there was one thing to be glad about, it was this:
He's not dead.
That was something.
At that moment, a group of horsemen began to ride from a distance, past him, towards Main Street. On the white, armoured horses were the feared, dignified, and most respected Holy Knights of the Holy Legion, travelling to the Black Mountain. They had chariots, and carts which contained several artefacts, fine stones, and plunder of fallen cities and dungeons, including a good number of captives. Axel spotted several children among them, but that didn't worry him, because he knew that they would simply be catered for and brought up in the way of the Holy Legion.
Once, even he was one of them. But here he was now, on his way to becoming a Holy Knight. Or at least, that was his dream.
One day, I will come here on one of those horses. I won't be like those deserters! Never!
"Look! Look!!" screamed a child in ecstasy. "The Holy Knights are here!"
At once, many children began to gather in buildings and alleyways to observe the passing Legion.
"So cool."
"I'm gonna be there, one day!"
"Look! A real sword!"
Ding! Ding!! Ding!!!
A giant white bell rang loudly from a watchtower in the distance, and large, brown gates to the Middle City were opened. This was where many more people resided, as it was farther from the lakes, and safer from any risks of flooding.
You could say it was the actual city, and the place where Axel lived was just on its outskirts. As for the Inner City, those that abided there were the official Knights, as well as the lower ranked noblemen. Men of even greater status could only be found on the Black Mountain itself, where the White Temple was erected.
Axel's gaze glued to the receding horsemen, a familiar pounding brimming in his chest, and his fists clenched in excitement.
"Mr Axel! Mr Axel!" Five children ran towards him, huffing and puffing with each step, as they ran in drenched coats and muddy shirts.
"What's the matter?"
"The lake, the lake!" yelled a boy, pointing east of Axel. There were seashells in his hair, and a few tiny slugs wriggling amidst it. "Young man in shiny iron!"
"Did someone drown?"
"No! No! No! He scared all the girls away. He's not moving, but he's floating!"
"On his back too," added a frightened young girl. "Is he…dead?"
"Dead? Did the bad people get here already?" wailed another who couldn't hide his tears.
"The bad people are going to kill us all!"
Axel sighed.
He lowered himself on a knee, drew them together, and patted their heads.
"You're all going to be fine," he said with a reassuring smile. "Even if the bad people are here, the good people have returned, haven't they? They'll protect us. For sure."
Those words were all the children needed to smile again. They nodded affirmatively, and laughed at each other for crying. The oldest of them, a young girl with a small, wet hair ribbon, was particularly good at teasing the rest.
Axel went on to a nearby stable, located a brown horse with a small red ribbon by its tail, and rode off, down the steep roads, till he got to the lakeside. There, there were several canoes, littered with fishermen going here and there, and carrying large barrels, and loaded nets. In the distance, there was a much larger ship, completely obscured by the dark mist. Even when he squinted, he could barely make out its form (which was rather massive to behold), as well as a faint ring of magically lit torches blazing by the sides.
Anyway, there was much more to see down here. And there was quite the nightly clamour.
"Aye! Amon! Amon! Ah…he got eaten!"
"That one was too big!"
"That's what she said."
"Oi! Oi! Oi!! Steer north! The newbie was got good!"
"Fish your own size, goddammit! How many times do I have to tell these rookies?!"
"Where the harpoons at?"
"Fuck the harpoons! I need a fucking spear over here!"
Axel tried to approach one fisherman, but he got buried in the frenzy, as three ran past him with spread, cleaned nets towards a small, illuminated cabin by the east.
"Anyone got grenades?" screamed a guy who circled an obscure aquatic figure with nothing but a spear and a badly chipped raft.
"Nah, we ran out of those!" answered a bulky one, eating in a resting boat. "Those folks from Iron Kingdom are fucking stingy!"
Axel met him. "I'm sorry, do you know of any floating guy on the lake?"
"*Chomp* *chomp* floating guy? The fuck you mean? *Chomp* *chomp* oh! You mean Harris! He's probably dead, I dunno."
"No..not someone from these parts. Did you see any guy in armour floating by? Wounded, probably?"
"Hmm…*chomp*..Ah! The magic fish!"
"Magic fish?"
"Yeah, Martin thinks he's either a mermaid or a magic fish!" The man said, tearing a chunk off the chickenfish lap he was eating.
At the same time, one hefty man in the distance affirmed his words, raising his machete and screaming in excitement.
"We're gonna dice him up to find out," added the bulky one. "I've tasted all kinds of fish in my life, but never one that can shapeshift. *Chomp* I'm excited…Hehehe."
Axel ruffled his hair, a worried expression etched on his face. "Uhh.. I'll rather you not, you know…dice him up?"
"Why? You think he's human?" The man asked, dropping his bowl.
"I mean, it's not impossib-!"
"It is in fact, impossible!" he interjected. "Do you know how dangerous these waters are? Know how many monstrosities are residing in em? It's impossible for a human being by himself to survive. Only the Holy Knights are an exception, and spoiler, he ain't one of them."
Axel realised that this meant that he was alive.
"Did you check his armour at least? To know where he came from?"
"It's just scrap iron," the man hissed, kissing his teeth. "Probably wriggled himself in there, somehow."
"...."
"I think you're just hungry, man," Axel thought to himself. And then, he asked for the man's location.
"Oh he's down there," the man hinted, pointing at the cabin. "Up there in the little stinkhou-!
"!-Oh shoot!" He suddenly screamed. "Fred got eaten too! For goodness sake! That's fifteen in a row! How many fish have we got?"
"Barely a hundred," answered one in the distance.
"Fuck!"
"But we've got fifty of the big ones!"
"Aha," the man laughed, rubbing his beard. "Good trade, then."
Axel left to the cabin, feeling confused. As always, he could never really tell whether these men were fishing or at war.
Creak! The door opened wide. The first thing Axel saw were lots of hung up nets, dart boards, and other board games on the wall. By the right, there were a group of drenched guys tending to their injuries. For some, they were shallow. Others, not so much.
"Be still, young man!" reprimanded a bearded old man in a hat, who had another young man standing on all fours before him. "I ain't got all day!"
"But it hurts, man!"
"Ain't my fault, now is it?!" He screamed. "You just had to get bit in the ass outta all places!"
"Good point! Just be gentl-! FUCK!"
Other men, with lighter injuries, simply watched and laughed secretly.
"Why's my man on all fours with his bum out?" mocked one of them. "That goes beyond zesty."
"Pity him guys, he's one bum less."
"Pfft!"
All the while, the man said nothing, save some occasional grunting as the old man applied herbs to his injuries.
But for some reason, he spotted Axel in a jiffy.
"The fuck you looking at? Something funny here?"
"Uh..sorry, I'm just looking for the magic fish."
"Magic fish?" asked the old man with a lift of a brow. "You mean that one at the back?"
Behind him, and farther from the group of men, was the motionless, slender frame of a young, beautiful man slung poorly against the wall, and sitting on some wooden planks. He had black hair, loosely reaching his chest, and a straight, porcelain face just like that of a doll.
His black clothes were rough and torn, while his armour had the characteristic rust and wearing off of old metal.
"Can I speak with him?" Axel asked. "Just me and him."
"Tryna steal our fish, are you?"
"No..I, I just don't think he's a fish," replied Axel. "Allow me to call someone. A person who can prove this to you.''
Anyone could tell that the fishermen weren't very wise people, but they were certainly a crazy bunch.
Author's note: I'm going to be doing a thing called R.U.F, which implies 'Random Unnecessary Fact'. It's just a load of stuff that doesn't hurt to know, but isn't essential to the plot.