Chapter 5
Roh

The storm surged through the dark skies of the forest. The rumbling thunders scratching glittering lights behind the thick clouds, endless rain splatting over the leaves down to branches, and leaves unto the dirt, and gusts blowing heavy and cold.

Kirovah wiggled his head like a soaked dog splashing away the waters from his silver furs covering his forehead. "Brr..." he bubbled through a shiver, an annoying sound of the flutes ringing in his ears.

He slightly arced down his body and shrugged his head once again to sway his wet hair away from his silver eyes. "Be careful, kids, you might catch a cold, and you'll hear your mother's scold–if I let you get home."

Five nails whizzed in the air from Roh's hands. The three projected to the eleven-year-old boy holding a y-shaped slingshot with a long blade at the edge of the metal handle, and the two aimed for the girl above the trees, winding a savory melody through its bamboo flute, contesting the sound of the weather. Yet, all his nails just clanked by the pebbles and lousily landed on the ground.

Five shots at one sling, the young boy aimed using his slingshot. His feet and arms were in a fighting stance, gripping his weapon tightly while trying to catch his breath through the rain.

They're just the same age as my little sister! Roh exclaimed in his mind. This kid was too good to be true. What kind of suffering did he go through to have such talent?

It's been an hour already, and horses and soldiers were out of sight. A series of earthquakes had been cast. Something big must be happening to the soldiers. And they're now behind the mission they planned–or maybe not. Efran has a captain to order Razuha soldiers. He shouldn't be worrying about the safety of him but the two weak girls lying unconscious in the dirt catching the heavy rains. They could also get a fever–if they would live today.

"You weakling boss lady, get up!" he shouted as he charged, and their blades sparkled through the mist, rough alternating strikes to each other.

"Brother...stop this hide and seek," Xienorra murmured in her sleep. Face wincing in pain. Tears were covered by the rain. "I know... you're already dead."

Roh never heard her sleep-talking since she broke him free from the cage. Now he's curious. What happened to her brother? What was this tragic story behind the bossy lady? It seemed that the flute girl was not just putting them to sleep, but also digging in their worst pasts. The music has the power of deceptions, a work of illusionists, commonly the talent of a Razua called Astra.

The thin notes ran in his ears again, with higher frequency. Roh groaned in pain, still catching up with the pace of the boy's blade. His head felt heavier, like being smashed into cement walls and started to crack up, like an egg trying to hold still from the explosion, while his eyes were begging to forfeit at any moment. A familiar dark room started to show in his sight.

Roh shook his head again, hair splattering rainwaters, and quickly blocked the boy's blade, then released flying nails to the girl. The boy hopped out to shoot stones in the air, protecting the girl. Then Roh swayed a dagger to him, but the young bandit ducked to dodge him, with its feet swiping on the ground. Roh jumped to avoid the feet and grabbed the opportunity to smash his blade from the air, but the bandit blocked his weapon. Metal clanked and gritted as they contested with their strengths.

No. He doesn't want his scars of the past to stretch up, wounds that were about to heal to pierce deeply. He's moving on by running from the past. And he needed to run more just how he ran from the old lady yelling at him to bring back her apples, from the men in black ties and suits suing him for his debts, from the cuffs and chains, ran from this cursed life, ran from the blood-shedding orphanage, and ran a hundred times from death.

Roh found an idea. He just needed a bit of distraction–entertainment, so he had a reason to be wide awake like he always does to boast his alcohol tolerance to his short-term friends.

"Won't you tell your little girlfriend to shut up? You're supposed to be in school learning how to read, not learning how to love," Roh teased and tried his best to have a slimy look. The boy humped away from him, cheeks painted with blush, furrowing the forehead to resist smiling.

Roh chuckled. This is entertaining. "If she could just see the look on your face. You're turning red."

"No! I'm–"

His nail cut across the cheeks of the lover boy. A fortune for the bandit that it wasn't too late to dodge.

"You said no, but you're sounding it like a big deal. Tell me how often you have slept with her," he laughed.

The kid's eyes widened and screamed, "That's not fun to talk with my age! Stop it! You're making a misunderstanding!"

"Hey, little miss! Your boyfriend has your underwear in his pocket! He always peeks at you while you're swimming in the hot spring! Oh, believe me. Your boyfriend's a pervert. I could read minds, you know. That's my Razua." No, he didn't need Razua to read kids in their reactions. He already studied his little sister's behaviors..

The girl's eyebrows furrowed, cheeks burned in annoyance while trying to stabilize her concentration on the flute going against the sound of bursting clouds.

"Merya, he's bluffing! He's just trying to distract us! He's an enemy! He's a liar! He's trying to make us against each other! Remember Papa's teaching!"

They might be as strong—or more robust than the Legionnaire's soldiers, but Roh knows every kid's weak spot—their pride. They won't stop until they prove you wrong about them, even though you already know it from the start and you barely care. It was effective on his sister whenever he was bored. Teasing them was valuable entertainment, filled with much fun.

"So, Merya was the name, huh? When did you start dating? What did you like about her? Or let's say, what did you like to do with her?"

The boy gripped his slingshot in rage and launched the blade at him with all force, "I told you, we're not dating!"

Roh blocked his attack using a dagger held by only two fingers. The movement of the kid was getting sloppy. His tricks were working. They're just kids, after all.

"But you haven't told me you didn't like her."

"I-It's none of your business!"

"So you liked her, after all. Does she like you too? Merya, do you like this little charming boy too?"

"I don't—I said I don't—" the boy said, red stains growing vibrant to his cheeks.

"They were right. Kids can't lie. It was painted in your rosy cheeks, boy."

"Enough!"

At last, the flute sounded a broken note. Merya's eyes widened. Her flute had broken up. Just a second, a shadow of a woman in a bamboo hat was behind her—Xienorra had awakened.

"Merya! Behind you—"

Roh's arms were already resting on the kid's shoulder as if they were just friends. He raised his brows up and down with a grin. "I'll teach you how to get a woman's heart, buddy."

But then the trees suddenly moved, attacking Xienorra. As she dodged away, the roots wrapped around the two kids and swallowed them to the ground, holes quickly closed. Roh tried to catch up with them, but he has no talent for digging.

"T-The tree just moved," he said. His brain was loading. Until his eyes widened, and they both glanced at each other.

"Efran was in danger! Wake Caesura quickly and follow!" Xienorra rushedly ordered him and raced against the storm through the branches of trees.

As they arrived at the scene, standing above the trees, Roh could see the corpses of soldiers bathing in blood mixed with mud. The carriages' wooden slats were split apart, crushed, vomiting gold bits they called piloncitos. He tried to find Efran among those lying men until he heard a rumbling sound, and the ground cracked up, pushing a group of people above. In the middle was a Firaijan red-scarfed soldier, squatting to reach his hand on the floor, in charge of the control.

The captain, his white-scarfed old lieutenant, three men in swords, and two familiar faces were the only remaining. Wait, there's more: a small girl with an axe on her forehead.

He had just fought through an hour to a kid earlier, and the flutist girl made Xienory and Caesy sleep. No doubt that this small, innocent-looking girl was the one who shed blood on the soldiers, and her death was the only savior to prevent them from being wiped out. But a small tear escaped on his cheeks, and gladly, it was concealed by the rain.

They were just as age as my little sister.

He cleared his throat and tried to weigh the situation. Those men also have their wives, children, and mothers waiting for them to give a warm hug of comfort. But only their families could do now was give them a warm, expensive coffin issued by the kingdom. A warm piloncitos might be a compensation for their deaths, but would never heal a single scar in the hearts of their loved ones. Another disappointing fact in this world–this is the reality.

They were hiding in the trees, and the storm was calming down. The soldiers helped each other stand up, and Efran actively used his weaving power to tie strips on wounds, preventing spilling more blood. The Mzerlish lady created an air orb, putting the soldier's head inside to breathe calmly. And the captain was trying to protect the paper from the rains inside a well-conditioned carriage, inking using plumes. He rolled the message and let it peck by the dove as he freed it from the cage, soaring high against the rain.

"Let's move. We'll find ways to have a smooth reunion, but not this time when they're with the captain," Xienorra ordered beside him and jumped down to ride with Caesy's cute big wolf. She still felt dizzy.

"No wolfy for me?" he complained.

"Just walk."

Kirovah sighed in a forfeit and started jumping through the trees. The pain in his head was lightened up since the flutist girl stopped performing, anyway.

What a tragic day it was. They failed the mission and then needed to split apart. At least, the only positive thing Roh knew was that they all four were alive.

Kirovah Ichor
The Rogue Knight

MVCabusas | The Invisible King