The Rogue Legacy

Follow-up from the last Shadownight Legacy. SQUEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE, this is going to be awesome! :o


95. 70 - Extract from the Recollections of Estaban Vasquez

 I woke up dazed and filled with pain that morning. Not that there was so much I could complain about - I had been returned to my fort and Midnight was within my room scribbling something in her journal. When she noticed me, she put down her quill and shut the book. We didn't say anything for a long time.
“How are you feeling?” she asked.
“Fucked,” I replied, getting up slowly.
“I thought that was a good feeling.”
 “Uh-uh. It's good when I'm the fucker, not the fuckee.”
 “You just make up bad words as you go along, don't you?”
 “It's a talent,” I replied, “What... what happened?”
 “You mean after I tried to reason with aggravated Romulites, before Cecil stepped in and tried to vouch for us - but they attacked you anyway?”
 “Sí. After the part I got fucked.”
 “Well, they stopped when Cecil and I stepped in. Black Cæsar was reluctant, but he let us go. Cecil escorted us here and then went back in the direction of the Fountain of... Forever Burning Water.”
 “How long have I been out?”
 “A day and a half,” she said, getting up and stepping towards me, “You must be starving.”
I sighed, “I'm... fine. Just... tired.”
 “I can understand that. Can I get you anything?”
 “Come here,” I said.
 Midnight gave me a look, “I...”
 “You owe me for this.”
 “I know. I'm just not ready to repay you in... that way,” she replied, “It's only been a couple of months... And I haven't really had time to grieve.”

Can a man truly lose emotion? If any, I should have by now.

“I'm sorry. That was insensitive,” I said, “I didn't really know him, but I'm sorry that things went the way they did.”
Midnight sighed and sat down in her chair, “Not your fault.”
 “What happened to the little shit you wanted to kill?”
 “I'm not sure. I didn't stick around to see what they'd do to him, but I'm betting he's dead. Which reminds me - spirit of Baphomet? Blood-offering?”
 “Fuck!” I cursed, “I don't want to talk about it.”
 “Well, alright, then,” she said and turned back to her journal.
“What is this shit? You don't want to know?”
 “I do. But I know I can't make you talk, Estaban.”
 “My mouth has so many better uses.”
 “Your mouth is filthy, and everyone from here to Singapore knows it.”
 “Still, it kissed yours, didn't it? And much more.”
 “Which makes it all the more filthy.”
 “Are you about to clean it?”
 “Then why are we talking about my mouth?”
 “Because you don't want to talk about being a Son of the Sword and a blood-offering to the spirit of Baphomet, or how you knew that Sons of the Sword don't stay dead but come back to life in some way that I don't know - because you won't talk about it.”
 “Midnight, shut the fuck up.”
 “I am not the one that started this conversation. I refuse for you to be the end of it.”
 “Because you won't talk about what I want to talk about, so I'll talk about everything else. And what I want to talk about is often the only thing worth talking about, hence the rest is just ludicrous nonsense. For example, why is the sky blue? Because it reflects the sea. Why is the sea blue? Because the sea is colourless and reflects the sky. But how can both reflect each other and what colour would the sky be if there was no sea? Would it reflect the grass? A green-”
 “Okay, alright, fine. For fuck's sake, just-” I simmered for a moment, “What do you want to know? In no more than ten words, please.”

 “Were you a Son of the Sword?”
I sighed, “Sí. Though, I was more of an initiate. I joined initially because I thought... well, I thought something I don't really think now. I was consecrated by the masters of the Order and that's were I got this,” I touched my scar, “A mark of Baphomet. He's a powerful spirit that can give you eternal life if you're worthy or eternal oblivion if you're not. Most Sons of the Sword have a clean mark across their neck. But I...”
 “You... moved away from the block, didn't you?”
 “I didn't want to be judged. I didn't think I was good enough to be granted a long-life. I didn't want to die and not come back. But... I did. I died for the first time and came back. I was then given a commission to find the Fountain of Youth. Baphomet granted longevity, and could guard against illness and death by the hands of man - but he did not guard against time. Many of those who've lived for centuries are crippled and broken. So what better soldiers are the youthful and immortal? Otherwise we would have probably been allowed to... have kids. So I came here and found the Fountain. But not until I had destroyed an entire populace of the Sons of Romulus. And... I don't know. I still didn't know what my masters wanted, or why they wanted these ancient places and artefacts. And they wanted death upon all Romulites, on all of the semi-human tribes. I didn't feel good about it, any of it, so I destroyed the army sent with me and... found a new vocation.”
 “What is the significance of these... semi-human tribes?”
 “I don't know. All I can tell is that wherever there are artefacts, there are Romulites or Panites or... Chironites, I think they're called. I don't know why and I've never gotten a straight answer. And... they seem to be the only things capable of killing us. For good. Along with things like natural disasters and freak accidents.”
Midnight looked sad, “There aren't many of them left, are there?”

She itched her head and said, “I need to ask you one more favour.”
 “The map?”
 “Forget the map. I... I don't really want anything to do with any of this anymore. I just want to go home. Can I take one of your ships and a handful of your crew-members?”
 “I'll drop you home, if you tell me the way.”
 “You'd leave this place?”
 “For you.”
 “I'd appreciate that then. I promise to pay for supplies on the way.”
 “Shut up, Estaban. It's no hop across the pond and you've done more than enough for me. And if you don't feel the need to murder my niece and my son when we dock, I'll add it to my growing mound of debt to you.”


Join MovellasFind out what all the buzz is about. Join now to start sharing your creativity and passion
Loading ...