“I’ve been walking for two days now, when will I ever reach Bulgar?” internally Mark pondered.
“Well the masters at the academy gave all of the newly graduated tacticians a quest of sorts to do…and mine was to travel the world; refining my skills.”
“It’s hard to believe that just a week ago I was awarded the title of novice tactician…”
“The breeze here is so—ugh!” Before the novice tactician could finish his train of thought he stumbled over what seemed to be a rather soft rock.
“Grooaaan…” the fallen Meis awoke back to the real world, or least tried to, as he fell to the grass asleep again.
Mark kneeled by the twitching body and took a second to analyze the man. He had a sharp bush of black hair upon his head, and the oddest of instruments mounted on his head…were those…glasses? It looked like glasses but it was too large, round and flexible looking to be it.
Strapped to the boy’s back was a large black hammer, something you’d expect in a smithy, and under that his garments consisted of a brown tunic, green shorts and a red cloth streaked with white lines. The cloth was wrapped around him just like a child does with its blanket when it plays one of the Heroes of the Scouring. His boots looked very worn and not comfortable for long walks. Yet the strangest thing was the odd sword he had grasped in his hand, a kind Mark had never seen before.
“Wake up.” Mark slightly nudged the prone form of the boy.
Meis seemed to be in a dream, as portrayed by the ambiguous grin on his face.
“…Uhhhh…I hear…the voice of an angel…” whispered Meis in is semi-sleepy state.
“No that would be me”
Meis opened his eyes to be met by another pair of eyes, a man’s eyes.
“W-what?”
Meis gaped at his supposed savior…”I-I thought that…argh stupid dream…really, who’d expect a tall busty blonde to rescue them, in her undergarments too?” Meis thought sadly.
He took a moment to look the man over, clad in a green silk cloak, and holding onto a knapsack, not much could be made out about his physical well being, or maybe the fact that he walked out all the way here could be a hint. The hood didn’t do much to conceal his features, but his hair sure did, as he had a puff of brown that covered almost all of his face except for his straight stern lips and his left hazelnut eye.
“My name is Mark, traveling tactician.” Finally Mark stated.
“And I am Meis, Meis Triumph the lady-killer, of a great Noble House.” Meis stated proudly.
“That’s strange, because of all the nobles I’ve heard of in Bern, or read about in The Lycian League, there was no Triumph mentioned anywhere.” Mark chose to ignore his claim concerning women.
“How, did the Dark Acolytes destroy our records or something?”
“I don’t quite get you, Lord Meis.”
Meis finally quieted down and sat up to think about his current ordeal.
“Well, Lord Meis, you are welcome to receive a share of the provisions I’ve bought…” Marked said offhand.
Meis’ eyes widened to the size of dinner plates…finally food after so long…and he got to keep the sword too!
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(Posted Mon, 23 Aug 2004 21:26)
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らんま1/2 © Rumiko Takahashi
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