The beginning of Kolugo's story is one of war, love, and loss. Kolugo was born in a middle-class family and has never expected or experienced much. He grew up tending to his parent's farm with a dream to become a Knight of a noble Kingdom. After an attack on his village, his father lost, and an irresistible young woman in his mind, he sets off on an adventure to live a life of honor as he pursues his dream of becoming a Knight, juggling between that and the love of his life - Nekoda.
Earth has always been our home, refuge, and our asylum. It provided us with the good resources of clear water, fresh air, mineral and food. Human civilization had advanced through the ages with their increasing intellect and enduring strength and, in what would seem like no time at all, kingdoms were forged. Unexpectedly, from darkness rose born leaders who would spark the simple minds of the world's poets, imitators, artists... through despondence bred strengthen soldiers in rapid numbers and, just as evil brought good, loyalty emerged from the ashes of broken trust and back-stabbing chumps. Through society's delusional grandeur erupted the frame of today's civilization: a thriving nation that yearned for their own betterment and, over the years, man had crafted a magnificent home from so little.
Born into a middle-class family, Kolugo had never expected much. His parents worked hard to keep the little they had; his dad tending to the crops in our small fields, his mother weaving and cooking. Being the oldest of his siblings, Kolugo had quickly grown apart from his loose-knit family. He’d occupy his time down by a small lake in the middle of the forest, taught himself to skip rocks, climb trees, and, with the snap of a fairly sized tree branch, the righteous art of sword fighting. Kolugo enjoyed doing things himself and in his own way. He’d awake each morning from his slumber and almost immediately leave his mother, caring for another newborn, and father, a man who spent his time in the old shed outside and doing his best to invent new machines and gadgets that could (quite possibly) further progress mankind, for his refuge down by the quiet lake.
Word of Valinor's old town’s crier rang through the dirt roads of the village, ringing false pray and joy of our resolute leader, the Overlord Dysphorick. Though powerful and great this man was, good his intentions were not. Whispers of bandits and a bloody assassination bounced off the cottages of small Valinor; murmurs that crept despondence in the hearts of the young boys and men in the village, though ignored by the majority. Valinor's evergreen trees loomed over Kolugo, muffling the busy sounds of the town crier and the busy streets of their market district. As the sounds of nature's song surrounded him, he ventured far out to his place by the lake.
As was done nearly each day, Kolugo would spend his time by the lake in solitude, often spent pretending he was part of a Knighthood with the broken branch he'd store in a small crevice of a tree root at dusk. Every other day or so, he'd be fortunate enough to be accompanied by his ally, Dephriaux Beaumanoir, who'd see to it to spend his limited days in the village with his companion down by the lake. Dephriaux had been a travelling Bard all of his life, making his leave inevitable and his stay a gratified one. Dephriaux would teach Kolugo a few tricks in the art of sword-fighting from his experience with bandits and thieves on the road, and as the thwack and splint of their wooden sticks collided, Dephriaux would tell his friend of his adventures and the many women that he would meet; that one was more dear than the others he fooled around with, and she was in the far village of Wenchire. Dephriaux had urged Kolugo to find some girls and, indeed, Kolugo was lonely, but never was he to go out of his way to find what his friend had.
Alas, not until the day of the town’s festival. Being it the perfect opportunity for an increase in sales, Dephriaux had gone with his friend to the festival of the year; the one that celebrated the end of an efficient year of farming. Alongside Dephriaux and his family’s merchant stall that sold amateur swords, leather accessories, and purses, stood crowded stalls and tables for any sort of occasion. The fresh smell of the last of the years’ new crops danced around in the air as the villagers skipped to and fro, browsing the various wares in the stalls. Come dusk on that day, the stalls would be rolled out and replaced with chairs and wine, complete with a stage fit for the most creative of bards. People would have the opportunity to get up on that stage and hymn the words of their lyrics and poems or make their screenplay come to life with a few of their friends to entertain the eyes of every villager. Events would be held for the citizens to dunk for apples, sword fight with wooden bokkens.
Indeed, all were cheery and proud at such a festival. The upbeat strum of a bard’s guitar and her pal’s flute kept the mood of the celebration merry and at ease. Upon the arrival of Dephriaux and the boy, Kolugo, the sky had already rolled black as dusk set upon the village, signaling the start of the events. A song sung by the birds dimmed to a low hum as they danced the way to their nests; the ballet of the flames and flicker of the torches replaced this melodic tune and the blue sky had mimicked this, replacing it’s swirly clouds with bright, flashing stars. The moon had cast a solemn glow over the festival and the beginning of its games while Dephriaux urged Kolugo to go play. With a nudge, Kolugo jumped into the events, treating himself to some small talk, candy, and ale as he exchanged laughter and boasts between the other players and himself. As the hours passed by blissfully, the cheerful crowd led Kolugo to a fairly-sized tent, covered in purple vinyl and cloth, its edges laced with white rope and small branches from a birch tree to support its splendor. Dismissing himself from the rest of the evening games due to an eating curiosity, Kolugo stepped into the tent.
Kolugo was immediately greeted with an air of lilies or dahlias. Beautifully crafted wooden chairs stand around the room, a small coffee table occupying each pair. Small lanterns lay upon the tables, giving the tent a sweet luminescent. Along the walls were long birch tables with small necklaces, rings, pouches and ducks for sale. A sparkle caught Kolugo’s eye; it was a silver chain necklace with two golden swords, connected at the middle of their blades to form a sort of ‘X’ shape.
“Oh,” a soft voice broke in, “I’m sorry, we’re closed.” Kolugo moved his gaze from the necklace to the source of the voice as his heart missed a beat: standing alone by the door of the tent was a lady, and the most gorgeous lady he’s ever seen, at that. She wore a long white blouse with tanned linens that wrapped around her short, athletic legs. At 5’4, the young woman appeared to share Kolugo’s age, with thick, dark-brown hair that flowed elegantly down with a few waves past her shoulders. She stood tall with an hour-glass figure, a shadow of the most beautiful smile curved by her pink, deadly lips. She gazed at the man in her shop curiously, her blue eyes twinkling with glamour. If it weren’t for the lowly village Kolugo had lived in, he would’ve mistook the lady for one of the royal princesses. The girl let out a small giggle, breaking Kolugo out of his trance.
“Are you okay?” She asked softly, outstretching her hand on his back. She gently started to guide him to the entrance, still watching him cautiously.
“Yeah,” Kolugo started, immensely aware of her hand on his back. Kolugo started for the entryway, the girl following behind. “I’m sorry; I didn’t know it was closed.”
“No, no,” the lady dismissed the situation with a slight wave of her hand. “My parents were supposed to close it up an hour ago.” She started for the small white rope and began to knot them on either side, successfully closing the tent shut for the night.
“Where are your parents?” Kolugo asked, desperate to keep the conversation going, and to hear more about the girl. She had stood up and started to look around, as if hoping to see her parents in the crowds outside. Kolugo had mimicked her movements for, for a moment, he had forgotten about the festival that was going on around them. Positive that he wouldn’t have missed this girl had she been attending all of the games and, assuming she was either in her parents’ shop the whole day or at home, Kolugo took a shot before she could answer his first question, “some of the events are still going on. The people getting ready for the next game, so…now that your shop is closed, would you want to go and try that one out?”
The girl returned her gaze back to Kolugo and stared at him for a few seconds, as if to study him intently. Kolugo had begun to take back what he had said in fear that she had obviously been at the festival and had probably played many of these games already, most likely with another guy, before she giggled and agreed. Taking advantage of the opportunity, Kolugo took the girl by the arm and started to gently tug her along the dirt path toward the games about to start. They had spent the last of the night playing the silly games with the few others that weren’t too drunk to have a blindfold on, drinking a little cider and grabbing what was left of the desserts set out for the villagers.
When the moon grew the brightest light in the courtyard, Kolugo led the girl to a few empty seats by the bard stage. A few villagers were atop the stage, playing their little guitars and flutes in their usual melodic tune. The wind dyed down with the torches as Kolugo sat the girl down. They sat and listened to the small band play on the bard stage for a while, before Kolugo opened his mouth to speak.
“Well,” he began. “Heh, we’ve spent a good chunk of the night together, and we still don’t know our names.” Kolugo started fiddling with the wrapper of his dessert – a small caramel cube, wrapped in some tiny red vinyl. “I’m Kolugo Komukura.”
“My name’s Nekoda,” she replied back sweetly. She looked over to the small band and began humming along to their song. They sat like that for a few minutes; Kolugo listened to the beautiful girl’s irresistible humming of the song being blown on flute. “My parents and I just moved into the town, though I’m not sure if we’re going to stay. We’ve a house up in the Kingdom of Rezenith, but we like to come and stay down here for the festival…for the trading aspect of it all, and whatnot. “
A flicker of the torches died down throughout the night as Nekoda and the boy sat on the old wooden bench, reciting various personal tales and events to one another. Kolugo listened intently, holding on to every word the girl would say, as if to study her personality. Her family was living back in the Kingdom of Rezenith, not too far from the village. Each year, they’ll travel to the festival to make a profit for the use of their talents – Nekoda’s mother was a talented gardener who produced magnificent crops, flowers, and shrubbery; her father was known in the Kingdom for his talents in whittling and woodworks, often making wooden wheels for the wagons and selling them to adventurers.
“When I was a girl,” Nekoda continued her story, reaching behind her neck to fiddle with a necklace. “I saw a box of string, needles, beads and jewelry. I started to get into crafting things; making necklaces and bracelets out of old scrap metal or the wood I’d find in my father’s room.” She took my arm, placing a small necklace in the palm of my hand. Its silver chain glittered in the low torchlight, the pendant a rusty looking key made out of wood. Pink ribbons were hooped through each chain link, where you’d tie it into a bow to hang from your neck.
“It’s stunning,” Kolugo thought out loud. He flipped the pendant over in his hands, examining the craftsmanship of the girl. Admiring it more closely, he saw small lettering, too small to see in the dim light. “What’s it for?”
Nekoda just smiled as she took the necklace around her neck once more. She stared at the pendant, taking it into her hands and twirled it around, “I dunno…” she muttered softly.
“Well, it’s late,” Kolugo started, straying away from the new tension. “Can I take you home?” On stage, the small band had stopped playing their song and had started to disperse, talking in whispers as they stepped off of the stage.
“Yeah,” Nekoda stood up quickly, turning to face Kolugo. “Actually, would you want to go someplace else? I have to sleep in a tent tonight, but my parents are…I don’t know where. I don’t really want to sleep in a tent.” She added the last bit quickly, tugging playfully at her tanned linens, looking at Kolugo with her blue eyes for an answer.
It wasn’t an odd request, as the night still seemed somewhat alive with villagers talking in hushed tones, and even a few couples bouncing about, probably going back to their homes. Nonetheless, he was rather taken aback by the question.
“Okay,” Kolugo agreed before she could change her mind, standing up to the girl. “Where did you have in mind?” The girl merely tilted her head slightly, her eyes darting to one direction. “What?” Kolugo followed her gaze. “You want to go to the forest?”
“Yeah,” she chirped. “There’s a beautiful lake there that I’ve wanted to see; I only got a glimpse of it when I rode into the village.” Noticing the boy’s hesitation she chuckled, “you’re not…you’re not scared, are you? It’s not that dark out yet.”
“Pfff,” Kolugo scoffed. “It’s just that I don’t get many women asking me to head into a dark forest with them very often.” Despite this, Kolugo understood the girl’s perspective. It wasn’t very late yet; there was plenty of moonlight for anyone to see clearly. It’s been a great night so far, and one that she wouldn’t see again for a long time, being on the road like she was. Kolugo took the girl by her hand and, reassuring her that they’d have fun, they both leapt off for the forest.
The moon cast its shine down on the trees beautifully, casting a soft sparkle upon them as the tiny droplets of water dripped steadily from the leaves. A refreshing mist began to form around the two as they brushed past every tree, making their way into the evergreen woodland. The forest had a dull green tint to it; the floors wore bright green grass, glistening with the mist. Various green shrubs riddled with roses and lilies hugged the bark of the tall evergreen trees. Here and there a vine would hang down; a woodpecker’s hole could be seen carved into the bark of a tree or small, mossy rocks would scatter the forest floor.
If you remember the town crier’s cries, you’d remember the warning of bandits and blood. Kolugo and the girl spoke of such rumors as they made their way to the lake; tales of a plot against their Overlord Dysphorick, bandits running about the trails and forests, and of one interesting “Shadow’s Clan”, an organization that seems to be the core of these bloody rumors.
“Do you think they’re real?” Nekoda pressed hungrily, intrigued by such hearsay.
“I really couldn’t say,” Kolugo responded. “I heard that the Shadow is the very son of Dysphorick himself and that his plan to overthrow his father is just driven by so much rage. Honestly, if that were true and what with all of these rumors, I don’t think he’d get away with it.”
“Well, yeah,” Nekoda agreed. “Dysphorick is sure to know that something is going on, but do you think he’d really listen? He’s so arrogant, that King…hell, if he heard me say that just then, I’d already be dead!”
Kolugo chuckled slightly, though she was absolutely right. The Overlord Dysphorick was, no doubt, one of the most arrogant rulers Rezenith has ever seen. It’s no better in the city than it is down in the villages; Dysphorick only spends money on himself and his guard, leaving little for the rest of his people. There have been attempts at his life before, though they’ve all been entirely unsuccessful, with a brutal punishment. Regardless, any villager can only hope that the chitchat is merely that – just chitchat, rumors. Of course, it’d bring joy to a whole lot to see their resolute leader fall, it’d put the Kingdom in great controversy. Nonetheless, the moon still grew bright in the sky, revealing an opening in the forest to the great lake beyond.
Kolugo and the girl stepped into the clearing to the lake. The reflection of the full moon could be seen in the tiding waters. It seemed to stretch out for miles in length and width, its coast plastered with small rocks and large boulders and horizon covered by the tall evergreen trees of the forest. They both stood there for a moment, gazing upon the lake’s beauty at such a time in the night. Nekoda shivered as a small gust of the cool breeze swept past their faces. Without entirely thinking it through, Kolugo reached her arm around the girl’s waist to pull her closer to his warmth. In response, Nekoda let out a small sigh, though she kept her hands to herself.
The two stood there, listening to the gust of the gentle wind blow past the trees. They watched the trees sway back and forth on the horizon; they watched as a gentle fog swept over the surface of the lake and felt the cool ocean breeze on their faces as the scent of the fresh, clear water seemed to ease their minds. Though no noises of the village could be heard so far away, they heard the rustle of the leaves and branches as the wind swept through, and the scurrying of the small, nocturnal rodents as they crawled out of their hidey holes. The lake shone bright, back at the many stars in the sky above. A few clouds would roll past the moon, making the scene of it all ever so bliss, as if it were one from a fairy tale.
“I like this,” Nekoda said, a bit dully. “I don’ normally have time to do anything like this.” Kolugo started to wonder of the other guys she’s probably been with before him; he is just another fling; how could he be any different? Though the expected leave the next day made the answer a blatant one, Kolugo didn't like to think of it. She had been the first girl he had to ever experience such an ideal night with, even if it was happening just because she would be leaving soon. Kolugo pushed these thoughts from his mind, merely squeezing the girl closer to him. Until now, he hadn’t noticed how lonely he truly was. As if in response to the thought, Nekoda decided to wrap he arms around him, too, and let out another small sigh. Kolugo couldn’t help but to smile at the girl, wondering what her lips would feel like on his, or how it would feel to do this every night. As a bit of pain at the thought of her leaving and his newly realized loneliness swelled in Kolugo’s chest, he held the girl a little closer. As the night progressed, Nekoda and the boy had done little talking and eventually made their way to the cool forest ground. Kolugo had used Nekoda’s shawl as a pillow as Nekoda rest her head on Kolugo’s chest. Throwing the night out on a whim, in fear of never seeing the girl, they had spent that night together under the stars.
. . .
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