Chapter 13: A restless night

"... I have intended to ask you for a while, but what happened to Rudger and his men?" 

Right now, the pair were walking together for a while now, Matthew didn't expect the roads to be this long. 

"... They have been taken care off, you don't have to worry about them any longer" 

"... You were strong enough to take down two pirates who had tens of millions of berries on their heads, who are you?" 

"... Matthew Roberts, a traveler who seeks adventure and searches for a meaning in life…" 

Matthew lost everything from his past life, his college degree, his friends, his former apartment, even his appearance changed, albeit a little. And now he searches for 'everything' once again. Wealth to buy anything, a warm base to settle in, power to defend himself…

"... A meaning huh?, your story sounds awfully similar to many others. How nostalgic." her gaze turned strange for a second 

" why didn't you contact the marines, a base should be nearby… "

" We knew better than to do that, most of the marines around here are corrupt and they wouldn't bother with an island this faraway from the red line". 

'... Should I make my own crew? Or maybe I should just become a bounty hunter.' Matthew's eyes shined, as if his mind got enlightened for a second. 'yeah that does sound like a plan'.

—--

"... Impossible…" 

"Rudger is finally dead?" 

A group of villagers were stationed around Matthew at the moment, most of them were middle-aged men and women in their early thirties. the tattered clothes they wore, the mild bruises in their hands all indicated they were the imprisoned workers that Rudger persecuted. 

"... Yes he is, we can finally see our families" it took some time for the velvety lady to explain the situation, nonetheless relief seemed to show on their expressions, some even had tears in their eyes and they tried to hide it. 

Right now, they were in what resembled a big camp, no it would be more accurate to call it a barrack. Matthew glanced at the surroundings, '... They barely have any good living conditions, the soil is dirty, they only have the sea water for use'. 

"... Excuse me young man" an old man made his way through the crowd, his eyes were buried beneath many wrinkles. 

"... Chief" 

"... We are finally free" 

The old man, whom they called the chief stopped before Matthew. 

"... Rudger, William are they really dead?" 

"... Yes they are old man" it was a lie, since William still lives, '... Some secrets are better hidden' 

" We offer you our gratitudes young man, you saved our lives from the tyrant and his men…" the chief attempted to bow. *crack* only for his back to hinder him, a common sign of old age. 

" old Chester, your back is acting up again, I told you to relax your body… " the velvety woman came forward and helped the old man. 

"... *cough* Leah, did you find the young Angella? Is she okay? Did you her tell what happened to her father?" Chester said. 

" no I –"

" the young Angella is safe, you needn't worry… " the spear wielder finally opened his mouth, his shoulder slowly beginning to heal itself, and the injury became less eye catching. '... The superhuman cells are truly doing wonders' 

—--

"... What did you… Say" the albino young girl, holding a curved Saber in her hand, trembled as she heard the unexpected news.

"... Forgive us, young Angella, we couldn't do anything for your father, he was a kind strong man, but his health failed him… We begged the pirates for a proper burial, yet they refused… His body was thrown in the sea, never to be seen again…" the chief spoke in a somber voice, his tone carried a hint of shame and regret in it. The villagers were present, holding their breaths, sorrowful expressions faced Angella, they knew her pain and they wished nothing more than for this horrible day to quickly pass. 

"... What… Did he say before passing away?" Angella's voice got quieter by the second, she no longer held the same confidence and willfulness. 

"... He wore a faint smile on his face, he repeated 'my snow little princess, I love you' many times…" this time a burly blacksmith answered, his long beard reaching all the way down.

"..." she didn't utter a single word, her mind still processing what was happening. She was happy to finally see the villagers united with their families once again, yet god wasn't generous enough to let her see her father once again. 

"... Enough with the gloominess, everyone! let's throw a feast before the fall of the night and toast for our freedom! , for our families! , for the dead Michael Woods and his daughter!!" the chief announced, and the villagers cheered in unison. 

—--

"... " Angella was seen sitting by the side of the beach, her lonely pale figure looked spectacular as the moonlight touched her skin.

Matthew walked behind her and sat down to her left, his right hand holding a mug of beer and his other hand gripping bayonet tightly, something she often noticed is that his eyes always drifted to the moon whenever dusk is near, as if it's prying into the secrets of the world. 

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"... Have you ever lost a loved one" Angella asked her master, she wanted someone to share her feelings with. 

"... I have never had one to begin with, you seem to be in a tight spot, mind sharing?"

"... I don't know… I have never felt this way before. losing my father, it hurts…" 

"... Have you ever heard the story of 'the forsaken one'?" Matthew could tell the little girl is trying to hide her emotions, refusing to let them overflow. 

"... No"

"... Rolland was a young healthy boy, named after his grandfather. He grew up in a loving household with both mother and father caring for the little boy. Bandits from the mountains razed Roland's house to the ground, killing both his parents and leaving him alone in the wilderness to venture. With nothing but charnel pits and bone graves to remind him of his loving parents, Rolland wore a steely expression, his eyes becoming too dry from mourning. He was forced to be a leechman, meaning that his trade was to wade around barefoot in muddy swamps and shallow ponds and collect the leeches and bugs that latched into his legs in order to sell them to the village doctors and whoever wanted them. Rolland was angry, sad and in deep pain as he resumed his job, barely getting scraps of money for his hardwork… "

Matthew took a quick sip of his beer and continued narrating, Angella was listening attentively by the side… 

"... The poor boy once tried confessing to a girl named betty, She was a bard, known by the villagers to have a deep voice that could calm the souls, only for her to find him repulsive and instead, rejected and laughed at him. Rolland couldn't bring himself to control his emotions anymore and in a fit of anger and humiliation he grabbed a dagger and stabbed the girl many time right through the heart. From that day forth, Rolland swore to never have faith in himself, he took his dagger and swung it repeatedly at the nearest tree he could find, in hopes of never making the same mistake again, he never wanted to see his emotions take over him, so he had to vent on the trees... And that was the sad silly tale of Rolland the forsaken one"

"..." Angella kept silent throughout the whole story, her eyes became moist as she leaned forwards and hugged her knees. 

"... Don't let your emotions be hidden all the time, your sword is a part of you, make it the medium you channel your hate and sadness through, that's what I said when I first met you…" Matthew finished his mug of beer, he got up and eyed the village in the distance, the people were still celebrating their freedom.

Angella stood up, and patted her blue colored linen kirtle to remove the sand, her face was pitiful, it was quite a sad sight. She picked up her Saber and moved to the forest, her hands held the sword rigidly, refusing to let go. 

"AHHHH" she let out a yell, finally letting go of her deep feelings as she swung the blade relentlessly, hacking the tree trunk. 

"..." Matthew watched the scene in silence from faraway, '... My young disciple, stay strong' 

"FATHER. AHHHH" tears ran down her face, her nose was runny, and her cries echoed through the forest . At dusk, the sight of the broken little girl was seen, slashing with her blade ferociously. 

" *sob* wuuuu" her screaming stopped, and crying replaced it entirely, but she still held onto her Saber. 

"... Father, forgive me, I love you, wuuuu" her weeping continued… for the rest of the night… 

Matthew is seen not too far from the now sleeping Angella, her face had tear stains on it, "... Father" she mumbled in her sleep, with a tone less quiet voice. 

"... A bleeding star bespoke the young Angella. These are the last days of weakness, tonight, your world was broken and remade. And when the sun blesses us with her golden light, you will grow stronger than ever…" he muttered mysteriously. His ears jerked as he picked up the sound of footsteps… 

" Jihahahaha, warrior Matthew, we meet again" a half naked William made his appearance, his silver hair fluttered with the wind as he sauntered towards Matthew… 

"what's with that blood-soaked tome you hold?" the spear wielder noticed the book in the hands of the half-giant, it reminded him of his own martial arts manual. 

" Jihahahaha, it's my own personal memoir…" 

"I see…" 

" I owe you a favor for sparing my life, I have an idea how to repay it…" 

"shouldn't I be the one to ask for the repayment?" 

"Jihahahaha, my tribe was a special one" 

"whatever…" with that being said, Matthew made his way towards the sleeping Angella and carried her gently in his arms. Turning around, he departed… 

"You will leave the island tomorrow I presume, Where will you sail?" seeing his walking form, William asked. 

"who knows… I go wherever the wind takes me…" 

"Jihahahaha" William laughed, he opened the book of the storm and wrote… 

"... Black as a midnight sea…

… black as a starless sky… 

… the crows screeched and feasted on themselves before the fall of the night… 

… A New adventure awaits us, one that's filled with bloody tides…

… History is a wheel, what has happened will perforce happen again… and nights are what we describe, for they are the nails that usually break the wheel… "

William Vermont.1912 

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