Water stretches endlessly over the horizon, nothing else in sight. Nothing besides a small wooden boat, two oars moving back and forth, rhythmically. It's somewhat familiar waters for the rower. A purple cloak is donned by the rower, hood pulled forward, covering a sweaty face.
The calmness of the sea matches the sky's mien; a fair morning, the sun only just about to hit the sky. A few minutes after, though, is all it takes for the story to change. The waters suddenly become troubled, tossing the fragile boat from side to side. The wavering boat soon begins to slowly submerge, water rushing in to keep the rower company. The unkind crashing waves fill the boat with water, until it plunges harshly into the deep, leaving the occupant stranded, and struggling to go back afloat. All efforts soon prove futile, the sun being the last thing John Kado sees through the water, before falling unconscious.
John Kado opens his eyes, catching the scent of sunflowers. He has always had a sharp nose, John. Rising to a sitting position, he feels the back of his neck. It aches. He must have hit it against something. He feels pain. He feels pain? He feels pain!
John suddenly remembers the events that led to him falling unconscious. The pain in his neck oddly his assurance that he isn't dead. The afterlife wouldn't be a place with pain, he thought.
Turning his neck to the side, John freezes completely. It felt as though his heart had gone on leave. The absolute chill of seeing Kardama's ice cold eyes peer at him, was in play. He didn't want to do it, but he suddenly found himself clutching his shortsword.
Kardama hands a plate of stew over to John, looking far from impressed. Having gotten a better grip of himself, John retreats his right hand from the hilt of his blade. He proceeds to break the silence.
John Kado: I doubt I will ever get used to drowning, my lord autonome.
Kardama replies swiftly, in a very unfriendly tone.
Kardama: Do not attempt to humour me, son of Baylor. The next time you dip an oar in those waters, you would be the mass to not make it out.
Holding the plate in his hands while staring at Kardama, John realizes the possible root of Kardama's anger. He puts down the warm stew, speaking in a soft tone, like a penitent little child.
John Kado: You are angry about the boat, are you not? Are you a conservationist?
Kardama doesn't take his eyes off him. He doesn't attempt to hide his anger.
Kardama: Everyone and everything belongs in a category, to your kind. Everything can be grouped in one tiny box. I care not for names. I despise wastefulness.
John Kado replies sharply, in his own defense.
John Kado: I make sure to compensate...
Kardama snaps at the regent, halting his statement.
Kardama: Your boats are made of wood. Wood is gotten from trees. You feel you have these resources in abundance and so you waste them.
John apologetically lowers his gaze, a way of conceding and acknowledging his faults. He mutters something to Kardama's hearing, however.
John Kado: You talk of trees...but I witnessed you take a man's life...like it was nothing.
With a coolness to his voice now, Kardama gives a straightforward reply.
Kardama: Trees get cut down simply for existing. Can you say that of Æge?
John raises his face, shocked to the core. There's no way to counter Kardama's reply. He knows it. Kardama breaks the ensuing silence tenderly.
YOU ARE READING
DEMON HUNT
FantasyMario Cadel gets caught up in a series of tragic events that opens his eyes to the mysteries and darkness in the world. He begins a struggle to establish peace but whether he succeeds or not is another matter...
