Dark Souls
Prepare to Die Edition
It took a great amount of time for Takuoto to really digest his current situation. He was laid upon the stone floor of a cell that, under normal circumstances, he'd have sent someone else to. It occured to him that, some time ago, a neighbor had spoken to him, asking why he was there. "I hurt someone," he finally thought to say. without thinking to wait for a reply, he continued recounting his story, moreso for his own benefit than that of anyone else. "I was in the same place I always was..."
-=+=-
That day, he had been placed among a group of Warriors at the front gates of the castle plaza, appointed with guiding them in keeping all citizens outside and all authorized inside. He stood in the center in a suit of shining plate armor, with the tip of his trusted greatsword buried between the pavestones before his polished sabatons. His steelen hands rested on the crossbar of the weapon's hilt, which flew in line with his shoulders. From his all-covering helmet spread two great plumes of curved white feathers, likely stripped from some rare bird in a foreign wilderness. Every bit of his attire was a trophy in his own right, placed upon his body not to represent him, but the King whose property he protected. As was his duty, and he responsibility shone brightly through the light reflected off his plate, which served to further dull the leather of the Warriors beside him who, though probably equally talented and with equipment just as well maintained, were not blessed with his rank, nor were they burdened with his responsibilities. As it was, they were the two extra swords at his side, just as important but nowhere near as present. Of course, none of the three there envied each other, as they understood their duties and were willing to put aside their personal ambition at the time. Theirs was a contentment which transcended things like envy or want.
Takuoto was once in their position, lowly Warriors who were proud to be given such a duty like walking the walls for hours at a time or standing guard in a hallway nobody used. Being an immigrant in his youth, employment alone was a grand thing to be given, and a wondrous achievement to earn. It had taken many a year's worth of extraneous work and combating prejudice in the workplace on top of the typical dose of difficult-to-tolerate human beings to make any progress at all. Nonetheless, he eventually stood as he did now, one of the primary figureheads of the kingdom, and he was thankful to be there with the respect of almost all around him.
"Step back from the gate," Takuoto called for the third time since their shift had begun. Occasionally, a citizen would be curious and stray a tad bit too close to the gates, and needed to be told away. "The following area is off-limits." His already-deep voice was muffled and reflected as it traveled through his helm, giving the resulting noise a ring that ensured even the blind would be aware of just who they were talking to, and the authority that was commanded. However, it was clear that the person he spoke to, a raggedy individual who seemed beyond poor in income judging by how he carried himself in a torn cloak to the castle plaza's gates, must have been deaf as well, as they continued their approach without hesitation. "Do not worry," the man informed them. "I come bearing a gift for you."
Takuoto merely repeated his warning, this time wrapping a hand around the handle of his greatsword for emphasis. Gifts or no, he had orders to allow no one close, and he would see them through completely. Perhaps his mindset was cruel, but it was effective, as the man finally paused. With a bit of a sad look upon his face, he reached into the folds of his cloak to bring something out of them. Takuoto waited to see what it was, and as it passed the edge of the stranger's cloak he witnessed coming from it a bright orange glow, and he acted. In a swift motion he took off at a sprint, carrying his greatsword along through the pavement until he had closed enough distance, where he brought it upward through the stranger, the honed blade cutting ruthlessly and tearing through his chest with no trouble at all. The man was brought upward slightly, and then fell backward onto the roadspace.
The Warriors had caught up with swords drawn, but unlike what Takuoto had expected, they were pointed to him, rather than the stranger. Similarly, archers on the wall had begun zeroing crossbows. Outraged, he questioned why they directed weapons to him, to which they explained he had struck down an innocent civilian. "He had drawn flame!" Takuoto insisted, referencing the orange-glowing magic he'd seen. When he turned to look upon the fallen man again, however, he saw that it was not flame, but rather a brightly shining gem set into a masterfully crafted golden ring, which emitted an orange light when the sun touched it. The ring was a gift, from a goldsmith who had poured the whole of his gratitude for the Kingdom into it, and who now lay dead at the ricipient's feet.
-=+=-
"I made a mistake, and I was punished." Takuoto felt the cold of interior stone against his skin, which bore the proud plate armor of a knight no longer, and instead was covered only in the most essential places by cloth even less flattering than the cloak of the man he'd killed. His bare form was that which would be expected of someone bearing such a responsibility, with a broad frame filled in with flesh fit for a defender of Wyrcolm. His smooth face and narrow eyes, the most out-of-place traits for a human being to bear in a western kingdom, melded back into black hair which was braided away to preserve space for whatever helm he may wear. Whether that braid would ever be necessary again was purely up to chance.
There, laying against the floor of the cell and staring up at the ceiling that was barely lit by the sconce in the hall, he imagined a pleasant scenario in his head, where the Gods had forseen something he couldn't. Perhaps the man had some ulterior motive, and Inrus had enraged the knight so as to prevent later disaster while Voluna, who he normally trusted to guide his hand, averted her eyes for but a moment. And if the man was innocent after all, then maybe lord Urbain could save him, and if not, give him a good home in whatever realm the dead go to. These thoughts gave him some solace, but above all he wished that such a thing didn't have to happen to begin with.
However, he remembered his environment proper, and that there was someone attempting to speak with him. He recalled some of what she'd said, and felt a bit bad for having ranted on about himself. "I'm sorry for what happened to you," he offered. "You wanted something else, and were punished for pursuing it. I can't say if I know the feeling, but I don't agree with how it was handled." Takuoto began wondering how things might have changed for her if he was placed on her case. If he'd been aware, he probably could have played it out differently.
She seemed to understand his current state, as her face didn't show much anger. Then again, it didn't show much of anything other than an expression of neutral fatigue. Whether she was bothered was actually rather difficult to figure out. Eventually she did speak up, saying simply, "At least you try," and leaving it there. There was some semblance of a smile breaking her lips before she turned away and moved to lay upon the ground herself. With his thought having focused on her for even so little time, he couldn't help but think more. According to her words, this person had been sworn to someone, but found love somewhere else and acted on it. True, her husband may have been offended, but Takuoto couldn't find much else wrong with it. She judged her actions as a mistake, and tried to fix it. He knew that he'd made an error himself, guided or otherwise, but what had he done to atone? Sit in a slightly uncomfortable room? What's worse is that her change wasn't very different from his decision to travel here in the first place, and yet he was rewarded beyond measure, albeit a bit roughly. How was that fair?
Clearly, he hadn't done enough, and here was someone else calling for his support. He could do right, if he wanted to, even in a place like this. He rose from the stone and approached the bars at a kneel, wrapping his hands about the iron. "How can I help?" he asked.
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