The once empty and peaceful forest had turned into a battlefield.
Luke's splatoon—Mark, Coni, and Kayden—ran towards the captain's tent. After passing the guard's reach, they dive towards the big table but stopped after being pinned down by the other guards stationed inside.
"What the hell is the meaning of this?"
The captain roar in front of the cub.
"Cap! Our leader—Luke is in danger!"
They barked—reporting the situation to the lieutenant while Kayden was stretching his hand out to show something. The lieutenant walked closer to them after the distance was closed Kayden dropped something covered with dirt, The lieutenant picked one of the looted badges as a proof, they were covered in mud it took him a while to recognize the image carved on the front.
He clenched his fist, destroying the shape of the wooden badge with his bare hands.
"This rascals, I'll make sure you will be punished later. But for now..."
He grabbed his sword and head outside his tent.
"We need to deal with 'them' the wicked had never work for something other than evil."
At the same time, Ron finally woke up, with a bandage on wrapped around his head. His breathing grew heavy and heavier as he tried to move from his bed, he even insisted on joining the frontline. But the lieutenant ignored him. He walked toward the battlefield as the battle raged on through the storm, and though victory came, it came at a price. The mercenary band won—but only barely, with a handful of casualties.
When the smoke cleared, Ron disobeyed orders and slipped past the camp border. With a swords he borrow from a fellow mercenary, he travel forth, deep into the forest. He needed to find Luke—the man who had once saved his life.
After he left his bed and his tent, the group that rescued him were rambling about how their splatoon leader was missing in action. Ron searched through the hills, the trees, the soaked earth while avoiding the main battleground—yet every trail had been swallowed by rain and mud.
After going around in a circle, checking every corner of the forest for a trail someone could have left, he then stopped near a steep valley. The storm had washed away everything—tracks, scents, even hope. He stared down the dark slope and thought:
If he's down there… then he's as good as gone.
A heavy silence filled him—guilt, helplessness, and that faint ache of debt unpaid.
Just as he turned to leave, a strong gust of wind blew his hat away.
The hat—it flies down the valley with the wind. Slowly the fog near the valley began to clear as well.
Without a second thought, he chased it down the valley. Step by step carefully approaching the bottom, through the fading fog, his breath grew heavier once more.
Then, as the mist began to clear, he saw something—his hat resting atop of a wounded man, two dead man were near him.
He froze, then hesitated, thinking it could be the enemies since he never saw Luke's face or enough to recognize him.
A faint breath escaped that man's lips, he slowly walked down with his hand hugging the steep ground, he's ready to risk his life for another that could possibly be the one who he had been saved by.
Maybe Fate… hasn't abandoned him after all
---
The sky darkened once again, and the cold wind returned. The mercenary band huddled near the fires, numb to the chill as if it were nothing new.
"I wasn't supposed to stand by guarding outside! If not because of the battle, I would be sleeping my ass off the entire day."
One mercenary groan.
"Don't worry, I don't think it will last longer, 'they' did have a big bounty on their head after all so you can hope for a celebration."
The mercenary left out a heavy sigh
"If only we could also capture their leader."
The other replied on how surviving was more than enough trying to cheer his comrade.
Behind them, stood many tents for the wounded that got hurt in midst of the chaos.
Inside one of the tents, the injured lay resting—among them, Luke.
He looked peaceful, almost serene. But his mind was anything but.
Each time he slept, his dreams dragged him through the same pit of voices—his guilt, his past, his family, the pain he could never escape.
The nightmares clawed at him until—suddenly—they stopped.
A noise.
Faint voices beyond the tent flap.
He recognized them… the same voice when he got his own splatoon as a leader. Mark, Coni, and Kayden.
He remembered their early days—the chaos, the laughter and the story they shared.
Mark and Coni was always arguing endlessly over who was stronger, while Kayden quietly polished his dagger with that same calm stare.
Now, those same three were arguing with the guards, begging to see their wounded captain.
They were relentless, and the guard's patience was fading—until Ron stepped in.
"Let them come with me," Ron said. "I'll keep them in line." strangely the guard became obedient. He stood aside letting the three came inside with Ron.
Below the tent roof, Luke was half-awake when he heard the sound of boots rushing in.
"Captain!!" Coni's voice cracked, tears in his eyes.
Mark was sobbing quietly behind him, and Kayden stood silently, arms crossed but gaze trembling.
"Calm down, Coni… I'm alive," Luke muttered weakly.
"You don't look fine at all!" Coni barked. Then suddenly, he drew his sword and pressed it against his own neck.
"I shall be punished for failing to protect you!"
"Whoa—hold your horses, Coni!" Mark grabbed his arm in panic.
The two of them wrestled awkwardly, bumping into the medical crates, while Kayden facepalmed in quiet frustration.
Luke sighed. "Sit down. You're disturbing the other patients."
When silence finally settled, Luke straightened his back. He knew that gis subordinate couldn't stay in silent except for Kayden.
"How about this," he said softly. "I'll tell you my story. You've all shared yours—it's only fair I share mine." he then got the gaze of them while they boldly and quietly approach Luke in a polite manner.
Ron's interest showed before he could hide it.
"You can stay and listen too, Ron," Luke added.
Ron smiled faintly. "Well, if I may."
Luke took a sip of water, his voice calm but hollow.
"Then,"
He took a deep breath.
"Shall I tell you how it feels to be exiled by your own people."
---
"I was born into nobility—or so I thought.
At six, I was called a prodigy. Swordsmanship, archery, history—everything came easily to me.
At eight, my ability surpasses a normal teenager, maybe even approaching an adult, but those privilege didn't stay for long.
At twelve, that gift began to fade. No matter how hard I trained, I couldn't improve anymore.
The people who once praised me turned their eyes away. My parents stopped speaking to me.
And my younger sister… she took my place. They called her the Third Genius of the Rutherford. Replacing my entire presence and life.
I tried for years to regain what I lost—but it was like chasing a ghost.
The servants began to whisper. The maids pitied me.
By sixteen, I was nothing but a disappointment wearing a noble name.
And so, they exiled me, my father declared that through an envelope. I didn't even got the chances to see my family faces at my last stay at the castle.
The walk to the outer gate felt longer than any journey in my life. I remember the other residents faces, watching me like I was a stain they could finally wash away.
After living sixteen years behind those proud castle walls…
I now live outside them—unwanted, unheard, and free."
---
Ron looked at Luke's eye in silence. It was empty, he had no desire left. He was simply trying to survive.
He asked once about his identity to other splatoon, they said they didn't know as well. He just appeared one day while telling those who digs into his story that his background is unpleasant, unnecessary and unworthy to be told and heard.
Outside, the rain began to fall again—soft, rhythmic, and endless.
Luke leaned back, eyes half-closed.
"But, I don't regret a single moment outside those castle."
Luke smiled, the kind of smile you would try to forget than treasure.
The night went on in silence after they left Luke to rest. Luke began closing his eye, and for years...he got something else rather then those pitiful dream.
Luke
He heard his name were called, he ignored them. But it bounced back to his ear.
Luke
Slowly the sounds gains more clarity,
he tried to closed his ears looking for a remedy.
Afraid of what intention and harsh words behind them, every time his name were spoken.
"Luke!"
The voice were coming closer as he tried to recognized the one behinds those echo
Was it his family? Or maybe someone from his mercenary days?
He tried to think of someone who have a smooth voice, as smooth as the wind.
Then it hits him, the mysterious soothing voice, where he laid on top of the solid grass as the ground bends upward to a higher place. He remembered when he was standing between the line of life and death. Something, someone, a being inside that valley.
What was it's name again..?
He tried to recall.
"Luke!!!"
Aisle
---