A Ballad of Life and Death - Part One: The Guardian Chronicles, #1

Prologue: Johanna, The New Frontier

It was a day just like any other, she thought. The other disciples had been given jobs like blacksmithing,  gardening, cooking or knitting. She, however, along with Luka and the Deaf Boy, were placed in charge of watching the thieves in the dungeon. And of course, just like with every other job the crusaders gave her, she would try her best to succeed at this one. After all, she was raised here in the temple, taken in by the Order of the Crusade, and she owed them her life.

But was her life more valuable to them as a simple guard dog? Why did the thieves need guarding anyway, she thought? And as she thought, she felt the words mutter out of her mouth, they should have been brought to the execution block.

She turned back to see Luka, dressed in orange robes befitting of a disciple, looking at her. He had come to them a few months prior in a dense storm, one that brought his family’s farm to plight, as well as leaving him an orphan. He was found by Lordraine Crowley, the Crusade’s leader, and given the rank of disciple, the first step to becoming a Crusader. The first time Johanna heard this story, she scoffed, too. But the more she thought about it, the more she realized: almost every disciple had a tragic origin.

She sighed at him, noticing him and Deaf Boy conversing. Well, Luka conversed, Deaf Boy shook his head and did his best to read his lips. She smiled at that; Deaf Boy was always so kind, though still just as lazy as Luka. She wondered where he had come from, but Deaf Boy himself had not known, nor did he know his name, and the elders did not know a thing either. She gave another sigh, as she studied the two boys.

Luka was fifteen years-old, or at least she was told. He had high cheekbones, a wide nose, kind, gentle eyes, and a neck too big to look normal for his shoulders. His eyes were grey. She noticed for the first time, he had a scar over his left eye, while another scar rested on his right cheek. His head was shaved, as was the Deaf Boy’s, she noted; it was expected.

Deaf Boy, though, had something special in his face. He was no Prince Charming by any means, no, but he was unique. He had a wide nose, like Luka, except instead of pointing downward, Deaf Boy’s pointed up, and was always sniffing for a smell to substitute for lack of hearing. His lips were thicker than Luka’s, and he was certainly paler than Luka’s olive complexion. Though he wasn’t as muscular or defined as Luka. He was thin, almost sickly, and never wore a shirt: only long, loose trousers that the disciples wore under their robe. He even had eyes so light blue that when she saw him in the dead of night, he looked like a thin, ghastly figure of a dead man. But still, there was something special about him.

Hey! She snapped. Are you two going to sit and talk all day or are you going to stand guard?

Luka suddenly jerked, and turned toward her quickly, with Deaf Boy slowly realizing and following his lead. Yes, of course! Sorry, Johanna.

She slightly grinned at that. Johanna had a penchant for keeping the other disciples in check, and almost everyone for that matter. When the thieves were first brought in, she remembered, they were wild and dangerous. When she let her voice thunder through the dungeon as she insulted the manhood they bragged about and hit them with the flat side of the sword she was given to defend herself with, it was then they submitted to her will. All except for one.

She givin’ you a hard time, chapel boy? The grey-bearded thief called out. He had rags for armor, rust for teeth, and cotton for hair. He was so old he could have been Johanna’s grandfather, but she had only known tales of her mother’s wicked ways.

Shut it! Johanna shouted.

The old thief stood from the cage where the six thieves were held and walked slowly toward her. As he walked, she took notice of the cell. It’s dimly lit corners and rusty iron bars separating her and the thieves seemed to fill her with a dangerous sense of security. She would have killed these thieves had the Order allowed it, but instead she was given the duty to watch them until the Dungeon Keeper returned from the armory, and she was set on ensuring her job was done well.

The thief smiled with his yoke teeth, What’re you go-

Suddenly the hilt of Johanna’s sword met the thief's face, knocking him back and drawing blood from his lip and mouth. As he stumbled for a moment, regaining himself, Johanna’s voice rang through the dungeon again. "ANYONE ELSE?!"

As the room went silent, she heard the empty halls of the dungeons. A drop of water repeated itself, dripping from what sounded like the ceiling and splashing against a small puddle on the cobblestone floor. The air blew cold in these dungeons, and not even the few lit torches could keep them cozy and warm for long, as those would blow out every so often. But still, she liked it there, cold and lonely. It felt... peaceful.

Suddenly she heard Deaf Boy mutter a few words, yet she couldn’t make sense of them. So, she turned to him, and asked him to repeat himself. And when he did, his words came to him fluidly, almost as though he had heard them leave his lips.

I only mean that it’s not right to talk down to them so crudely. He said as though Johanna had understood him the first time.

She sighed at that, and realized, though she did not agree, Deaf Boy was right. It would do no good to yell at drunk old thieves, even if it did scare them. Still, her pride got the best of her as she shook her head in resentment. They’re rapists and killers. She reminded him.

Deaf Boy nodded, and Johanna turned to Luka, who nodded in turn. Then she looked down at Luka’s lance he held in his hand and turned to see Deaf Boy’s axe in his hands as well. They were equipped in case the thieves had gotten out, but they would have to return these weapons to the armory later. After all, they needed them for the war.

Damned thieves taking advantage of the townsfolk, Johanna scoffed. It’s bad enough their fathers and sons are off fighting your wars, but you lot want to rape and murder the women they leave behind, too?

He’s the only rapist here, one of the men said, pointing to the grey-bearded man.

Liar! The old man snorted. Deltheon and Vaike both-

Enough, Johanna reminded them. Rapists or not, you’re still thieves. You’re still my prisoners. You’re still-

We’re your prisoners until these bars break down, the old man snapped, charging for the bars and shoving his face in between them to fit through and widen his eyes. And when that happens, we’re going to kill and rape every fucker here. And then, when you watch everyone you know die, we’ll rape you too, but no, we won’t kill ya’. We’ll keep you alive, and keep raping ya’ and raping  ya’ until you’ve gone dry, then we’ll feed you to the dogs!

Johanna’s face stood motionless, staring down the old man, her eyes as intense as ever. As she looked into his eyes, she saw herself in the reflection. She had her head shaven months before, and it had grown out short and wild now. It was white, as were her eyelashes, brows, and skin. Her eyes were light blue, almost silver, and her lips were red, and almost as thick as Luka’s. She was not beautiful, she thought, even though some of the other disciples had broken their vows and told her so. She was just herself.

Good luck with that, she grinned. She knew these bars would hold up, even though they were rusted and brown. She ran her fingers along the rough edges, her face inching closer to the old man’s. I’m a fourteen year-old girl, born to a whore I’ve never known, raised by priests that have shown me things you’ll never know. Do you think it matters to me what a drunk old thief says?

The two pairs of eyes met with intensity, but only one of them could answer the call to violence. Yet this time, Johanna could not pull herself to strike the man with the hilt of her sword. He had already disrespected her in front of the other thieves, they had to be shown not to disrespect their jailor. And so she raised her blade...

Enough! The Dungeon Keeper’s voice rang out, his hand wrapped around Johanna’s wrist. She turned to meet his intense glare, dropping her sword as he let go of her wrist. "Report to High lord Lordraine, now."

She knew there was nothing else she could do. She was the dutiful soldier after all, and Luka and Deaf Boy would go with her. Yet as they began to follow her out, the Dungeon Keeper’s voice called out again.

You two stay, his voice was as cold as the dungeons. Johanna can go own her own, you two must learn patience and virtue.

As she looked back at them,  Deaf Boy reluctantly turned his back and walked away from her, back to the Dungeon Keeper, while Luka apologized before doing the same. She let out a disappointed sigh and turned back around to face the dungeon doors. On the other side of these doors was the courtyard where disciples and apprentices trained, and where the armory and blacksmith cooked and stored weapons for the war. The war she would join. But first, she would have to see Lordraine.

As she left the dungeons, her vision was suddenly blinded by the bright sun. Blinking, her vision adjusted to see men and boys, shaven and short-haired, striking at one another with wooden spears and swords. In one area, boys practiced the bow and arrow on stuffed dummies, in another area the men stood upright and allowed their brothers of the Crusade to strike them with open palms. Johanna was never one for this, but she had not found a particular reason to be against it either, as the brothers argued it built resistance and tolerance to pain, and so she bit her tongue as she walked through the courtyard, her head down. Yet she could still feel their stares. After all, she was the only girl there who had been taken in. In truth, she had never known, and once, a long time ago, when she asked, the elders simply told her that she would know when her time had come. But what time? That was the question she pondered most. It was the only question important to her. After all, she was an outsider. All she could do was keep her head down to avoid their stares as she wandered into the Command Room, the place in the temple that Lordraine was normally found at.

You wanted to see me? She asked as she came in, not even paying attention to if Lordraine was there or not.

Ah, yes, he called out from around the corner.

On both her sides were walls, almost like a short hall leading into the main room of the Command Room. But with a few steps, she could now see the entirety of the Command Room, as well as two doors leading to other rooms: Lordraine’s quarters and the other room that nobody had ever gone into, she had not even known its purpose. The walls, floor, and ceiling were made of cobblestone, much like the rest of the temple. Red carpets were laid down on the floor to comfort tired feet, and wooden chairs and tables decorated the room, with one giant table in the middle.

The giant table seemed to have on it a map of some sorts. As she looked at it, and ran her fingers along the map’s thick, rugged, almost leathery surface, she began to make out what it was mapped for. Chapai? She asked herself.

Yes, Johanna, Lordraine said, walking up behind her, his hand grabbing hold of her shoulder. Chapai, the Land of the Golden Sun.

She had never understood that name, Land of the Golden Sun. She had assumed it was because of their harvest, or their strange culture and mythical gods, but she had never bothered asking any of the disciples or elders. Why are we planning an attack on Chapai?

Well, Johanna, we’ll get to that, he paused, taking a breath. But first, let’s get to why I asked to see you.

Yes?

Yes, well, she could tell he was about to speak more than ten words, so she dedicated her ears to his voice. You have been with us now for almost fourteen years, correct? Ever since we found you as a babe, we had thought you would grow into a fine young warrior, fit and worthy of the title of Crusader. He paused, walking around the table, placing his hands on the rough fabric of the map. You have improved, sure, but you still lack the restraint and morality that your brothers do.

They’re not my brothers, she snapped, before realizing what she had said was the wrong thing to say.

That is one example, Lordraine reminded her with his soft, dark eyes. Another is when you attacked the head chef for denying you extra supper. What I am getting at is that you are not quite ready for the Trial of the Crusader.

But everyone takes the trials at fourteen! She said. Luka is going to, and so is Mikel and Ezek, and Morgan and Lod, too! Why can’t-

Sweet Johanna, Lordraine smiled behind his gentle lips, his beard seeming to light as sunlight shone through a window pane and onto his face. Your vision of morality is clouded, my dear. I fear you are not quite prepared as the others are.

Johanna paused a moment to think before articulating her argument. It’s because I’m a girl, isn’t it?

Lordraine’s smile grew to a grin as he looked at her with white teeth. Do you believe that? I sure hope not. You’re a girl, yes, but you’re also the first sister of the Crusade. I would not punish you for simply being what you were born to be, but I would punish you for refusing to acknowledge the reality of your circumstance. You are still a child, and young at heart, yet there’s a fire inside you that burns brighter than that of the others. For this reason, we must wait until you are more emotionally mature to begin the trials. After all, when the disciples become Crusaders, and I send you all off to Chapai to fight the Plague before it spreads to Thrae, I will want warriors who follow orders, not children who disobey.

Johanna stood silent, looking down at the map. She was not trying to make sense of it, no, just simply looking at it, staring off into space. She was not ready, she knew that. She had known that for a while but hearing Lordraine speak it into existence made her stomach turn. Still, it was not her place to argue against the High-Crusader’s command. And so, she stood silent a while longer, waiting for Lordraine to speak again.

So how are the thieves? He finally asked, his brown hair combed back out of his eyes.

Alive, she said. One of them was a bit more out of line than the others, but they’re alive.

Good, he reminded her. We need all the men we can get if we’re going to fight off the Plague.

Her eyes widened as she realized the truth of his words. You’re going to allow them to join the Crusade?

Divine help me, Lordraine said. Not the Crusade, no. But the army, yes. He said shortly. You are a child; these things are beyond you.

And Luka and Mikel aren’t, either?! She snapped once more.

Lordraine chuckled, You have your mother’s spirit. He paused, realizing what he had said, as she looked up at him in shock.

You knew my mother?

In a sense, Lordraine sighed, realizing what he had done. I met her once, the day she left you.

She looked at him, her eyes glaring. You knew? She asked in a shocked and angry voice. You knew, and you never told me?

Hush now, child, Lordraine commanded. Your bitter words earn you no reward, surely you’ve learned that by now. This Order was founded to fight the Plague before it reached our shores. I gave my life, and took the life of my brother, to build the foundation for which this army stands. We must unite despite our hatred and contempt, and work together to put an end to the Necromancer King, and his undead legion. I will not have you raise your tongue with such fury over that of a dead woman.

Johanna paused again, My mother’s... dead?

Yes child, Lordraine reminded her. He paused, looking at her with somber eyes. A dead harlot, her throat was cut by a taker of hers.

"Rapist," she corrected him.

He paid well, Lordraine told her. Do you see why we swear an oath of chastity?

Desire? She chimed sarcastically, her attitude getting the best of her.

No, Lordraine established. Temptation. Attachment. Sorrow. Attach yourself to another being of this world, they weigh on your mind on all times. You become distracted, longing to be by their side. Your true goal is blurred by the vision of the one you love, your senses dulled. Until, of course, you die when you were meant to triumph. Do you see?

No, she lied.

Lordraine smiled, I’ve seen the way you look at him.

She looked up at Lordraine, her eyes determined to disprove his honest words. Who?

Deaf Boy, Lordraine’s words were blades to her ears. The one who cannot hear but sees you as well as you see him. He sighed. He most likely will not be participating in the trials either, once he reaches the age of fourteen.

I understand, Johanna said. May I return to the Disciple Quarters, now?

You may, Lordraine allowed. After you visit the courtyard.

Johanna nodded and went on her way.

The rest of her day was exhausting and draining. She practiced with wooden swords and lanced with the brothers who had stared at her just moments ago. Yet, now, they weren’t staring, merely fighting as her equal. She felt their eyes on her sword, or on her arms and legs, or on her stance. She did not feel their eyes on her face as she triumphed over them, knocking them to the ground with brutal blows. It was around nightfall that Luka and Deaf Boy made their way out of the dungeon and into the courtyard to meet her, and the three wandered off into the Disciple Quarters together.

Yet, the whole day, Johanna could not forget the words that Lordraine spoke to her. She knew she was emotionally immature, distracted by her unholy desires, but she had not cared, not truly. This was who she was. She may have been raised to become a Crusader, but she felt deep down in her belly that it was not her destiny. It never had been, she thought. And more importantly, just who, exactly, was her mother? She had heard the truth in Lordraine’s words when he told her she was just like her but had not felt the truth when he spoke of her as a whore or dead. And so, she decided later that night, when everyone was asleep, she would leave them all and go out on a quest for her mother, the only other woman in the world who could understand how she felt. Tonight was a good night too, she thought, the guards were all away on a mission. It would not be easy, she thought, she would be leaving her brothers and her true father behind. But she knew it was her destiny, it had to be. She could not spend the rest of her life there. Yet there was one person she could not pull herself to leave behind.

Deaf Boy, she whispered to him in his sheets, before realizing her mistake. So, she poked him, and he did not budge. And so, she shook him slightly on the shoulder, and he seemed to open his eyes in a tired fashion, looking upon her face, his brows raised.

Come on, Johanna said. We’re leaving, follow me.

His face showed it all, he still didn’t understand her. Was it too dark in here, she thought? So she just decided to take him by the hand, and the two lightly tiptoed through the room, avoiding the other disciples’ beds and feet as they passed. It was as intense as it was boring. What made it worse was the smell of the others’ sweaty, unconscious bodies, and the awful condition of the room. The floor was dark wood, scratched and even worn in some places. The beds they slept on were fitted with old, ratty blankets, with pillows they made themselves from sheeps wool. Johanna had decided to bring hers, but Deaf Boy did not have enough time to grab his, not even enough time to take an extra set of clothes. It was when they finally made it out that Johanna realized this, but by then it was too late, they were caught.

Where are you going? Called out the familiar voice from behind them as they almost made their way out of the courtyard.

Um, Johanna said worriedly, before she turned around to see Luka standing before her. Oh, Luka-

"Where are you going?"

Um, she paused. Deaf Boy and I are going to, uh, leave-

You can’t, Luka asserted. You swore a vow to the Order. You swore to uphold the Crusade. To never leave, to always stay true to the cause-

This isn’t my cause! She interrupted, her voice growing stern. I was not given a choice! I was forced here at birth. Her face grew to a mixture of anger and sorrow. My mother was a whore, damn it! She left me here...  She paused, looking at Luka hear her words, letting her finish, the grace of a young crusader. I’m going to find her, ask her why she left me, and then I’m going to find my own purpose.

Luka stopped a moment, then looked over at Deaf Boy. And what about you?

I-

Deaf Boy is coming with me, she interrupted him, slapping his shoulder to let him know to be quiet.

May I ask why?

He’s coming to help me, she asserted. We’re leaving, Luka... You can come if you want.

No, Luka answered with empty eyes. I made a vow. I’m upholding that vow. When you leave, I will hunt you down, and make sure you’re brought back for justice.

Justice? Johanna questioned him. Justice from the men who beat us and broke us down our entire lives?

Luka shook his head. They saved you. They saved us all. We owe them our lives. If you can’t see that, then maybe it’s best you do leave.

They saved nothing! She exclaimed. Look at us! We’re in rags, hungry; we’re not learning to be normal people! We’re not normal!

We’re not meant to be, Luka replied, his voice emotionless. We’re champions of Divine Mana-

Mana! Johanna said. You still think we can control that? It’s all a waste of time, just like this Order.

Luka stood silently for a moment, concentrating on her words. He seemed to process them fast, as he soon spoke. The Order of the Divine Crusade was created to fight back against the Plague of the Necromancer King. Right now, he’s raising his armies in Monghai, and then he’s going for Chapai, then coming for Thrae. Thrae, our country. This is a fight that we’re all in, one I gave my life up for, and I intend to uphold that promise.

I don’t care about that fight, Johanna sighed, turning away, grabbing Deaf Boy by his shoulder, urging him to follow. I’m one girl, this Order doesn’t even need me. I’m leaving. She said, neglecting to turn and look at Luka’s face, but she could feel his angry, resentful eyes as she opened the doors, leaving her life behind, and stepping out into the new frontier.

Chapter One: Exodious, And So The Journey Begins

The ashes filled the sky with a puffy smoke of decay and despair as Exodious looked around at his undead minions, horrifying and dismembered abominations of nature. Some of them had missing teeth, some had missing eyes, some had missing limbs, and some were even missing their heads. But not Exodious, he was a different kind altogether.

The Necromancer King had chosen him to lead his own legion of undead, about a hundred and any others he could infect with the Plague along the way. And so, he obliged his master, and rode upon a pale horse of bones and white eyes.

Come, Death, he commanded his pale horse, treading along the shattered stone walkway. All around him buildings burned to ash, people laid on the ground and in their homes, covered in mud, dirt, and blood. Those who were infected with the Plague would rise as his minion. Those who were not would fade into the next life: Overworld or Underworld.

But the Plague was still vexing to Exodious. He had not thought about it too much, for it was all he had known, from his rebirth a few years ago as the Fourth Horseman of the Plague. It was simple then, he thought, and even simpler now. He had not even remembered his life from before, all that was left of his past self had died and joined with the Plague. He did not even dream of it, he had not dreamt of anything.

His skin was cold and pale, with eyes absent of pupils. His hair was long and white, and rested over one of his dead eyes, and he had sharp, handsome features. He was deathly thin, but his muscles were tight. Neglecting to wear a shirt, he wore only gauntlets, ragged trousers, and bandages around his feet. He was not one for the armor that his fellow generals wore. Unlike them, the scar he bore from his mortal death went all the way down the right side of his body.

Time and time again he had thought of what could have possibly ended his existence. Was it a claymore, or a battle axe? The cut was long