Carim is looking for a man named Arthur Demagogue. By his story, the man is a great Almarian Knight that used to wield a great lance twice larger than his sword. The man would never use any magic as he deemed it a cheat. He'd kill men and women by the tip of his weapon fueled by his decades of skills and training. Last time he checked, Arthur retired in this quaint old town away from the line of duty.
We found the Demagogues lodge somewhere in a hill near the forest. The house is quite cozy given by the warm homey feeling radiating from the inside. When we got in, Carim stopped in his tracks and raised his sword. A woman was cooking at the hearth. Her eyes met Carim and both glared daggers at one another.
"Carim!?" A voice boomed in the other room. "Lower down your sword and let's talk."
"It's a Shuriman Mage!"
"That's my wife,"
Carim's sword thunked at the ground and looked dumbfoundedly at Arthur. "What?"
---
We ate a bowl of carrot soup for life. Contrary to the name, the soup has meat and tons of blazing spices in it. Kinda reminds me of Indian food. The only thing missing is bread. Oh, wait. The woman came back with a plate of flatbread. I dunked a piece of bread in the soup and bit. It tasted thrice better from the clash of tastes. Salt and spices danced in my tongue. It's magic in food form.
Over the meal, Arthur recounted how he met Liv. It was a battlefield over the Foothold of Agrippa Cliff at the Westernmost region of the Burning Sands Desert. All was lost between the armies of the Shuripa and Almarian empire, except for the two remaining figures in the middle of the field. Liv of the Enchanted Waters and Arthur the Demagogue Roaring Lance. While Liv is shooting out steaming waters, Arthur kept dodging and stabbing his lance in between. Their movements were a dance only two masters of their respective art could make. It seemed their deadly ball lasted for hours under the unwavering sun of the desert. They were parched and their weary muscles are beyond exhausted, but the thrill of the battle kept them alive and beating. Somewhere over the line, Arthur caught a glimpse inside Liv's war veil and saw he face. It was a mistake as the sight made his heartbeat harder like it never before. Arthur's movements slow and he made more mistakes here and there. It's not because he was getting tired, rather, he was careful not to hurt the beautiful woman she's been fighting. Liv caught an opportunity and her blazing waters turned crystalline ice and she tried to slice the lancer's neck. Arthur caught this. As much as he'd like to preserve the woman, his life is more important. He ducked and swept the woman's legs. Liv fell over and her ice hit Arthur's helmet, sending it flying into the Almarian side. Like Arthur, Liv was infatuated at the hunk before him. All this time, she thought the lancer is a brute with a face filled with a thousand scars. Not this grandeur statue worthy of everyone's adoration and praise. Liv removed her veil and stopped her magic. Arthur dropped his lance and breathed normally for the first time since the battle started.
It then did they realize the folly's of the war they are fighting for ages. Arthur returned to the Almarian line while Liv returned to hers. They met under the guise of skirmishes. While their comrades died, Arthur and Liv hid beyond the dunes and gave each other gifts and kisses. For a year they did this routine but they knew they can't do it forever. They quit their respective armies, lived in a nearby queendom and had three children. One of which is a babe who can barely walk that's crawling in my arms.
"His name is Silas. Ain't he the sweetest thing?" Liv said as she picked up her son and smothered him in her busty breasts. "Who's cute? It's you. Yesh. It's you."
"So where are the other two?" I asked.
Both Liv and Arthur looked at one another and their eyes flung open. "I- uh... they are hunting," Arthur replied.
"Yes. Hunting. Dirk, the oldest loves hunting. While Aylwin can't leave his big brother alone."
We finished eating but that wasn't the end of it. Liv brought out a barrel of beer and a flagon of spiced wine from her homeland in Shuripa. I don't drink alcohol but apparently, Gren does. I gulped mugs after mugs of the golden nectar and the crimson nectarine. As much as I'd like to drink more, my visions getting cloudy and the world around me is swirling. Carim's looking like a Picasso drawing morphing into a Van Gogh editorial caricature.
Liv cleaned up our mess but while she's out the back, Arthur pulled us in and whispered to both of us.
"I have a job for both of you," Arthur said "It's unofficial but please I beg you. Please accept the job I'll offer."