Quoted By:
“Lucian of Verac.” Count Remon spoke the name of the Savior in what Lucian could guess was an attempt to remember it, “I have heard your name amongst the Court. A Peasant who gained the honors of Duke Moriset after his discovery at the ruined village of Verac. I tell you now that I heard such honors were gained when you gifted the Duke all the wine reserves of your fallen home.”
“W-what?” Lucian could not help but bawk at such words, “I did not bribe my Lord!”
“That was only one thought the people of the court thought. Others claimed that you are his Bastard son who he needs to keep a close eye upon.” The Knight focused upon Lucian for a moment, “They are not right either I assume. Your hair is an Imperial’s not a Bretonnian.”
“W-what?” Lucian felt himself cough upon hearing that.
“You have proven yourself, Lucian. I no longer believe in those lies that were being spoken about the Bastard son of a Duke, the Heir of his Ruin.” The Count said ignoring the question asked by Lucian, “Explain to me your side of the story.”
Lucian wanted to ask more questions about those words but he did not. In a sense he was given an order and as a Peasant he would follow through with that order.
“I… lost everything my Lord.” Lucian pondered for a second if he should say the words and then decided to damn himself, “I lost everything just like you have. However, without a doubt in my very soul, I know that it was through the will of the Gods that I lived that day. By the will of Morr I lived so that I may one day slay her.”
It was then that Lucian went through his story. As neither of them were going to be leaving anytime soon because of their injuries Lucian went into further depth than he ever had with another person.
He gave to Count Remon what he still remembered from his times as a Peasant. Now all distant memories from what was a simple time that no war was in his sight. Where he was content with working the fields and picking the fruits that were scattered about the area.
Then he spoke of the day. The horrors that he watched were created by the simple whims of the Sorcerer that he found himself faced off against. How her monsters were ready to pick Lucian into pieces or how she was ready to give him a fate that was surely worse than death itself.
Lucian kept a simple tone. There was no need to yell and any enthusiasm was held in check by the horrors that flashed into his mind. The movement of the shadows. The toothy smile of that predator. The flash of light that restored him to life.
