And here's part 2. Boy, this is irritating.
- Valandar the Red
Disclaimer: The characters and situations in Magic
Knights Rayearth belong to CLAMP, their
publisher/producer, and whatever US company is currently
preparing to release the dubbed version in September.
The below fanfic is intended for entertainment, not
profit, so please don't sue me, I have no money.
Paladin of Cephiro
A Fanfic by Valandar the Red
Chapter Two
Courage
Part 2 for the FFML
The erstwhile Paladin found himself next to her,
walking down another long hallway, before he could form
another coherent thought. "Um, Presia?"
"Yes?"
"You said you'd explain about escudo?"
"Right. Well, it's like this," she began. Her face
took on a slightly distant expression as she explained.
"Escudo is a legendary mineral, one that cannot be forged
in the truest sense, but only shaped by a true Pharle, or
weaponshaper. It is the source of the true weapons of the
magic knights, and the Paladin. Like your new armor, an
escudo weapon will grow with the wielder, in both power
and versatility. Only the one for whom an escudo weapon
was made can wield it, and it becomes almost an extension
of the wielder."
"Sort of like the legends of holy swords back home,
like the sword of Roland."
"I guess. That's not something I'd know about, but
escudo weapons could be considered holy by some. Well,
here we are." They were standing beside a door in the left
wall of the hallway. "We are going to enter my workshop.
The weapon you will get her is not a gift - it is a loan,
until you return with the escudo."
"But where will I find the escudo?"
"I actually don't know. That's for Guru Clef to tell
you. Now, come on in." She opened the door, and he
followed her inside, thinking to himself that he'd follow
her anywhere.
Inside was an armory that a mail-order weapons shop
would be jealous of. Weapons of every size and description
adorned the walls, or were piled up in the corners. In
fact, underneath one pile of spears, glaives, and assorted
pole arms, sat a rather pot-bellied, old-fashioned cannon.
His eyes immediately rested on a pair of long, tapering
bladed swords, with one handed grips, and almond-shaped
pommels. "Um...so what now?"
She smiled, and his heart stopped again. "Just close
your eyes, and concentrate. The weapon that would be of
the best use for you will be drawn to you."
"Ok-okay." He closed his eyes, and thought about his
times on the field at Border Raids, Pensics, and other
SCA events. When he opened them again, he found the two
blades he had been eyeing resting in his hands. "Wow!"
Presia seemed taken aback slightly. "Two?" she
muttered.
He had heard her, however. Shrugging, he said,
"Florentine is my favorite style."
********************
"Florentine? What's Florentine style?" asked Hikaru.
The Magic Knights, their respective mates, Clef,
Presia, and Caldina and Lafarga were gathered in the
throne room, after Michael had been given his last
instructions, and sent on his way. Presia said, "It's a
term for the use of two weapons at once, rather than a
single weapon, or weapon and shield."
"Oh, like using the dai-sho, the katana and
wakazashi." Hikaru glanced at Lantis. "That wasn't really
part of my family's school, but we were still taught the
basics."
"I don't know. I'd think that two swords would get in
the way of each other, if they're the same length." Lantis
seemed unimpressed.
"Well, of course they would, if they were as big as
that monster you call a sword," joked Umi. "But the ones
he chose, according to Presia, are light, and well
balanced. He shouldn't have too many problems."
"Guru Clef, why didn't you offer to awaken his
magic?" asked Fuu.
"I could not. According to the prophesy, the Paladin
must awaken his magic on his own."
"Well, what else did the prophesy say about him,"
asked Ferio.
"Nothing. Er, you see, the prophesies end with the
Paladin gaining his magic. From there, nothing."
"What about his mashin?" asked Umi.
"According to the same verse that mentions him
gaining his magic on his own, he will not get one. He
will, however, have something called an avatar."
"Is there any way we can keep an eye on him?" asked
Presia.
Hikaru glanced sideways at her, smiling. "Why, are
you a little sweet on our Paladin?"
Presia blushed. "No, of course not. I just want to
make sure I get those swords back, that's all."
Clef nodded. "I can get occasional glimpses, for no
more than a few minutes. However, that should be enough to
determine how he fares. After dinner, when he has had time
to reach the city of Lincoln, we will do so."
Presia nodded, her blush fading slowly, while the
three Magick Knights giggled quietly among themselves.
********************
Michael saw the city up ahead, and thought about how
he had left the castle. Being the first American to get
anywhere griffon-back, he felt that the rush of that type
of flight would put both Cessna and Harley-Davidson out of
business. In a few minutes, he would be at the village
inn, trying to sleep, and trying to make sense of the
day.
It was about an hour past nightfall, and to his
right, he could barely make out the forest Clef had called
Infiniti Wood. To his left was a large plain, that
continued until it reached the white sand shores. The city
was only about a mile ahead, so he figured he's be there
in about fifteen to twenty minutes at a casual walk.
He had been informed that the economy of Cephiro was
practically non-existent. Money existed, but was only used
for major purchases, like land or livestock. At an inn,
especially wearing armor of Cephiro, as granted by Clef,
all he would have to do is be polite.
A growling noise behind him derailed that train of
thought. He dove to his left, and spun at the same time,
to see a nine foot tall beast, with the legs of a goat and
the head of a wolf, pounce through the air where he had
been a moment earlier. It snarled, and turned its almost
humanoid form to face him. It stood upright, with arms
ending in massive, bear-like claws. It lunged at him with
frightening speed, and he barely succeeded at ducking
under the reaching talons.
With a thought, he placed his hands on the jewels of
his bracers, drawing his matched swords. The creature
dropped to snap at him with its fanged jaws, but he had
already moved aside. Snaking out with his right hand
sword, he sought its heart.
The weapon skittered of the stone-hard skin of the
monster. The screeching sound, reminiscent of chalk on a
blackboard, seemed to irritate it, as it stepped back and
grabbed its ears. Realizing his swords were useless
against it, Michael willed them away, and proceeded to
dodge until he could come up with a better plan.
'Geez,' he though, 'this thing's as bas as someone
who won't call their shots in the SCA! No matter how hard
I hit it, it won't even slow down.' Distracted by his own
thoughts, he reacted a fraction of a second too late, and
was batted twenty feet by one massive paw.
Pain flared on his side, where even his armor was
scored. He was sure he wasn't bleeding, but his ribs were
likely bruised from the terrific impact. He had to think
of something, and he had to do it immediately. Before he
could collect himself, it had cleared the distance with
an easy leap, and caught him across the temple with a
vicious backhanded slap.
Spinning and stunned, his fear rose. 'Run!' it
screamed. 'Save yourself!' He pulled himself to his feet,
and stumbled back just in time to avoid another paw swipe.
Steeling himself, he answered his fear aloud, while
avoiding the deadly strikes. "No! I will not run. For one
thing, this monster's too >ulp!< fast, and the city is too
close, for another! I've got to stop it, or they could be
next!"
The very next claw came within inches of his face,
and the adrenaline in his system let him see every jagged
edge, and the bloodstains at the tips. In a single moment,
everything crystallized. He felt certainty and knowledge
combine into a cohesive whole, and new words rose up in
his mind, words that felt like he had known them all his
life.
Before he could mentally recite them, and use the
power that had emerged, a cloven hoof lashed out, kicking
him in the legs, and taking his feet out from under him.
He tried to stand, but fell, and watched as the beast,
confident of its victory, slowly stood over him.
The words flowed through his mind as he lay there,
and power filled his being. The essence of the twinkling
stars above, and the heart of the sun hidden below the
horizon, combined into a shining light held between his
outstretched hands. Drawing a deep breath, he yelled,
"Lightray!"
A beam as big around as his head, lanced forward,
ripping into the unnatural flesh of the beast before him.
It ate away at the creature, blasting completely through,
and out the other side. Confused, and horribly injured,
it began to back away. Once again, Michael summoned the
power, and sent another lance of pure light into its
chest. Defeated and dead, the monster fell, before fading
away into a dark miasma, which rapidly dispersed in the
gentle breeze.
He lay there for a while, exhausted, and amazed. What
he had done could only be called magic, and it seemed to
be actually able to affect these monsters. Guru Clef had
told him most magic was useless against the monsters, but
it seemed that of the Paladin was not.
Rolling over onto his stomach, he pushed himself up
onto all fours. His left leg still hurt badly, but he
didn't think anything was broken. He struggled to his
feet, and walked over to a nearby tree. Seeing a fallen
branch, he drew one of his swords, and cut it into a make-
shift crutch. If he was lucky, he might now make it to the
city in about half an hour.
********************
It was shortly after his encounter that the Magic
Knights and their friends looked in on him. Their very
first reaction was concern, and Presia looked absolutely
horrified. They watched him until he made it to Lincoln,
at which point Guru Clef could hold the image no longer.
Behind them, a small, chubby, rabbit-shaped creature
with a gem on its forehead said "Puu!" Inside, it thought,
'Good. The Paladin has passed the test of Courage. I hope
he survives, and passes the other five. If not, this world
I have created is in more peril than even my Pillar dares
imagine.'
-------------------------------------
Notes: The Society for Creative Anachronism is an
international Medieval re-enactment group. Bearkiller, as
mentioned in the chapter above, is a relatively famous
knight in the organization who lives in Memphis. Also, the
tutoring program Michael is in is a real program, at the
real University of Memphis, one that at least two of my
friends are in right now.
Valandar the Red of the Empty Tankard
http://members.tripod.com/~Valandar/fanfic.html
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