User:Nextoy/Book of 100 Warriors/Ode to Love

Some men seem to exist for the sake of tragedy. Not to cause it, but to exist within it. Whether or not the tragedy relates to them is a different question, they simply appear when it does. It can be debated and argued whether they follow it, or it follows them; ultimately such questions are irrelevant.

However, not all who exist for the sake of tragedy are victimized by it.

Gerard, Lord of house Kaeber, sat across from his current tragedy. Within this otherwise blank room he saw his judge, jury, and executioner in a rival noble. These two have been locked in a kind of war for some time now.

“Lord Kaeber,” The noble began, giving a glare to the laid-back man who sat before him in this impromptu courtroom, “Have you no shame? No dignity?”

“Lord Servas, I have not stolen, not murdered, not cheated. For what do you call me here?” Gerard asked, one leg propped up to rest ankle to knee with the other.

“You insist on coercing my family against me, and yet take no responsibility for any ills you bring to them.” Servas explained, leaning forward and gritting his teeth. It was all the rival lord could do to stop himself from spitting fire, or worse shooting, the arrogance he saw in Gerard.

“You jail me for the crime of love?” Gerard asked, leaning back in his chair and spreading arms wide. His eyes, in just that moment, closed to show his full unwillingness to see fault in the situation.

This would prove to be a mistake.

Two guards grabbed either arm, holding Gerard so he couldn’t move and slamming his face into the table.

“I jail you for seduction, treason to both our houses, and infidelity.” Servas noted, with Gerard chuckling despite the hold.

“I’ll give you seduction, and I bet you even have some chance getting me executed for treason. However, infidelity would be naught but slander.” Gerard explained, oddly relaxed despite his situation.

“And why’s that, Kaeber?”

“Simple, I have been nothing but loyal to your sister.” Gerard’s head was lifted up by his long, thick hair. The two gazed at each other, one with smugness and the other unbridled anger.

“Loyal? Is loyal a trip to the brothel? Is loyal flirtations with peasants?” He asked, motioning for the guards to lift up Gerard onto his feet, dragging him away from the table.

“If that is loyal, let me show you the loyalty of a brother.” Servas then walked over, putting on weighted gloves, and slammed his fist into Gerard’s kidney.

“You…” Gerard tried to speak, interrupted by violent coughs. “You should fire your informant.” He managed out, still strangely laid-back. Even his chuckles seemed both pain and jovial.

“Silence!” Servas shouted, swinging another punch into Gerard’s ribs. A faint crack, a suppressed cry of pain, and further coughing would have Servas sedated for a moment.

“I have done no such things.” Gerard pointed out, looking back up to Servas with a faint grin. “You’re just scared-”

His words were interrupted with a punch to the jaw, nearly driving the nobleman unconscious.

“Scared…” He managed out, “That your sister loves me back. That what we have is-”

“I said be quiet!” Servas shouted, anger now taking him over, as a punch sailed next to Gerard’s head.

The lord of house Kaeber, a family of militaristic pride, had lost all his patience. Double barreled flintlock pistols, custom made for such events, spring out from the sleeves of his coat. One shot twice, both behind him, to take out the guards as the other pointed to Servas.

Due to the awkward position he had to hold the first pistol, however, Gerard knew that he only had one functioning hand for whatever was about to happen.

“Klaus! Gerard!” A woman cried out, running up to them.

She saw a sight that nobody wished her to see. Two men dead, her brother wearing gloves she knew were meant only for torture, and her lover training a gun at family.

“What…” She asked, stepping back.

Both men cried for her at once, with Gerard rushing after her before getting grabbed by the back of his collar. Klaus forcibly turned him around, taking a swing at Gerard’s jaw and sending him crashing into the table before running off after his sister.

* * * * *

When he awoke, Gerard found himself in a prison cell. His nobleman attire still on him, although bloodied from the fight between himself and Klaus. On the other side of the iron bars sat his love.

“Are you awake?” She asked, her voice coming in muffled and her visage blurred from the concussion.

“Yes, I am now.” He spoked. It came out quiet, pained, and yet happy to have her here with him.

“Please, tell me what happened.” She asked. Gerard thought to himself that she couldn’t sound more worried, and in a way he found it cute.

“Your brother is a jealous man, what can I say?” He answered, fully sitting up. He leaned forward, looking over as his love was starting to come fully into view.

“Is… what he said true?” She asked, shaking her head. It was only know that he realized she sat at a bench opposite to him, staying as far away as she could while being able to clearly see and hear him.

“No. The truth is that I’m surely being framed.” He answered. “I seek none beyond you. No woman can give me what you have.”

“And… what’s that?” She asked, getting up and slowly walking towards him.

“Love, peace, and comfort.” He answered, getting up and walking towards her.

Her face blushed, her words unable to come out, and her hands brought themselves onto the bars.

“But most importantly,” He walked up and placed his hands over hers, “Joy. Joy that I truly don’t deserve.”

After a moment of silence, she finally replied with “I suppose that makes two of us, yes?” She asked, with them sharing a short kiss.

It was then Gerard knew something was very wrong. She didn’t speak, kiss, or chuckle in that manner.

The woman exhaled a strange smelling gas and mist came off her, revealing a witch that was well known to be the Servas house assassin.

“You can’t even tell the difference between me and her, yet you speak of love?” She asked, with the two siblings of house Servas coming into view. One looking rectified, the other betrayed.

Gerard’s first instinct was, admittedly, to run. However, there were two problems with that. First, it would prove Klaus right. Second, he had nowhere to run anyways. He was trapped in this cell, which now felt like a tomb more than anything else.

Instead, he allowed himself to let go. They may have his guns, but he had a stronger power.

“Kaeber Ros,” He mumbled, grabbing the witch by her hair and slamming her head against the iron bar. “Sacred beast, aid me!”

Those unfamiliar with this magic would think he had become a daemon, but those of Servas who stood before him knew better. They knew what it meant that he had seemed to grow claws, spikes, and fangs. To them, this was the real Gerard, for the lord of house Kaeber has the power to become unstoppable monsters, should the need arise.

But this was an unusual circumstance.

Normally, the beast of house Kaeber cannot be called upon at will. Yet, this seems to be exactly what had happened. It raised a question amongst the four in the room, including Gerard himself: was it that his will was simply stronger than the sacred beast, or did he truly love her? The assassin and the brother asked because the possibility brought them fear. Fear that they had accused an innocent man of heinous crimes.

But the lovers asked because it brought them hope.

“Klaus, lord of house Servas.” He spoke, his voice coming out with a daemonic growl, “Let us make a bet. If you can keep me at bay until the sacred beast drains me of my will, I will accept death. If you fail, then I shall take my love and we will elope as peasants.”

All of them knew the implications of this deal. House Kaeber was dead. This would make a large impact on the kingdom, especially since it would die by Servas’ hands regardless.

“I accept.” Klaus agreed, snapping his fingers as guards came out.

“To hell with this!” The witch screamed, sickly green mist escaping from her body to crawl up Gerard’s arm. However, another slam on the bars and it dissipated immediately. The witch wasn’t dead, but she was no longer a factor in all of this.

Gerard grabbed the bars and started to pull at them. The metallic screech of them bending to his will was a call to arms, the guards pelting him with bullets and arrows from their rifles and crossbows. However, in the state he was in now Gerard could feel no pain. His body bled, but the bars opened.

The man that walked out was dead, but his body moved from both sacred power and a force of will strong enough to frighten the lord that stood before him.

Such powers, however, are not sustainable.

“Grace…” He spoke the name of his lover one last time, grabbing her hand as he approached. Blood fell from his torso, and arrows decorated what few places didn’t bleed.

“Servas Coil.” Klaus summoned forth his own house power, wrapping energy around Gerard’s neck. Under any other circumstance, the sacred beast would be stronger than this spectral tool. But Gerard’s eyes had already lost all light.

The last thing he heard was his love, his Grace, crying out in an agony only love could bring. But his last action was one of defiance to his fate.

In his dying breath Gerard grabbed the Servas Coil, pulling Klaus close and racking him with the daemonic claws of Kaeber Ros. Two nobles were now dead, but one could still speak.

“Grace, Lady of House Servas.” He addressed her, the two gazing into each other’s eyes one last time. “May you be fair and beautiful in your rule as you are in my heart.”

Thus, his will to live finally came to a close.