Blade(Part 4): Midnight

Chapter 28: Dameon

Dameon went into Eldenshire with Elia and Tsukomi at midday. He went with his old storm-enchanted cutlass instead of his mother's sword in order to not draw attention to them, but he typically never needed it. Elia was skipping ahead of Dameon and Tsukomi, which would normally not bother Dameon, but today, it made him insecure with the presence of another Blade of Midnight.

"Elia," he called. "Stay with us." Elia went back to her father hanging her head, and Dameon rubbed his hand through the top of her hair, seeing her smile return. As the three of them walked through the marketplace of Eldenshire, Dameon noticed Tsukomi looking at her surroundings, her eyes widened with awe. The marketplace of Eldenshire was always filled with people going from kiosk to kiosk to trade, buy, or sell goods such as food, toys, clothes, or jewelry. Occasionally, there would be street performers in the center, whether they're pretending to be statues while covered from head to toe in paint, juggling rubber balls, rings, or fire, or doing some kind of absurd dance on a single hand, or even their head. Had Tsukomi never experienced something like this before?

"It's a nice sight, isn't it?" Dameon asked, to Elia and Tsukomi. "So much life. I was born in a town like this in the colonies, and it was burned to the ground, and everyone who lived there was killed. That's the last I remember of where I was born. In fact, it's the only thing. Seeing a place like this, filled with life, with free people, and no soldiers in sight. These people aren't afraid of their King. They aren't afraid of him turning into a tyrant. That's what I fought for in my own country, and that's what you need to fight for in yours, Tsukomi. A future where no one has to live in fear of a madman's fantasies. Just remember, you aren't the only one who's suffered as a result of the war in your country. Others have suffered, others have lost loved ones, and others have had their lives turned into a living hell. Just remember that when you're fighting. There are others in the same position you are, with stories no different from yours, and that people with those stories have only known pain throughout their lives. You're a Blade of Midnight. You inflict pain as well. On people who deserve it, but you inflict it nonetheless, so when you decide to eliminate a certain target, ask yourself 'what good will this do for who and what I fight for' 'what would the consequences of killing this target be?' and most of all, 'will the world truly be a better place without them?'. I know the Blades are, more than anything, driven by revenge, to right what wrong was done to themselves. Fight for something other than hatred, and ask yourself those questions before you strike, and you will be on your way to saving Torriban. Soon enough, it'll look like this." He looked up from the girls and took another look at the town around him. There were children with their parents, husbands with their wives, and children chasing each other through the marketplace. Dameon never saw that in the colonies. He and Shala left too quickly to see such a joyous sight.

"Thank you," Tsukomi suddenly said.

"I'm sorry for my attitude towards you yesterday," Dameon sighed. "I didn't want anything more to do with the Blades of Midnight, and didn't realize that you weren't asking me to fight. You just want to save your country, just like I did. Alright, I'll just buy a few things, and then we can go home." Dameon went from one kiosk in the marketplace to another, until his hands were filled with paper bags that were heavy to lift due to what was in them. Elia carried a few of them to make it easier on him, but as they went down the main road out of the town, a strange man was waiting for them. He wore light, sloped armor that almost resembled tiles stacked upon one another, and a sloped helmet with a V-shaped mask with bright, red eyes. He drew a long katana with a storm crystal enchanting it, but the cutting edge of his sword was glowing a bright, blue light, with lightning crackling around it.

"Who's that?" asked Dameon.

"A Samurai," Tsukomi hissed, stepping forward. She drew a katana of her own, with a flame crystal enchanting it, and a bright fire burning around the edge of its blade.