Revy Gray Warped World Reflections

[ Southern Kingdom- Etri ] 

  (Capital of old ancient empire)

In the village Dori and Revy had left, the setting sun cast long shadows on the cobblestone streets and the air was filled with the smell of roasting meat and the sounds of laughter coming from the tavern. Mayr, the village elder who had taken them in as infants, stood at the edge of the village, his eyes trained on the distant road. His furrowed brow was a map of the worries that plagued him.

"It's been ten days, Mayr," said another grizzled old man, his voice filled with a gentle concern. "Why do you still wait for them?"

Mayr's gaze remained fixed on the horizon, the setting sun casting a warm glow across his lined face. "Because I fear what the world outside holds for them," he replied, his voice heavy with regret. "When I said those words in anger, I didn't intend for them to leave for good. They're still so young, so unprepared for the horrors that await them."

The second old man, known as Elder Elijah, placed his hand on Mayr's shoulder. "We drove them out of this village, Mayr," he said, his voice filled with the wisdom of his years. "Even if we hadn't kicked them out, they would have left this village one day. It was their destiny."

Mayr's gaze shifted to the red-stained horizon. "You speak of fate," he murmured, "but what if that fate leads them down a path of blood and destruction?"

The second old man, Elijah, offered a knowing smile. "Fate is a fickle beast," he said. "It whispers sweet promises in our ears and then watches as we stumble upon the thorns it has laid for us."

Mayr sighed, his eyes never leaving the dusty road. "They must have gotten themselves into trouble," he said, his voice filled with a father's love and fear. "Revy is a kid with a different personality, God knows what's on her mind, and Dori with her slippery tongue and perverted moves." He paused, his expression darkening. "but this world quickly swallows such people"

Elder Elijah nodded, his own eyes reflecting the pain of knowing the truth. "The whispers of the gods are faint, but the echoes of their battles are etched into this ground," he murmured. "Finding Revy in the cave where an ancient emperor was born, like Osar, who ruled the world with blood, shows me that the future could be bloody."

Mayr's gaze grew distant, lost in the tumult of his thoughts. "Revy was always special," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. "From the moment we found her, I knew she was different. Her eyes, they hold the secrets of the universe."

The old man's eyes searched the horizon, as if he could will the two young souls to return. "I never should have let them go," he said, his voice cracking with regret. "But they're not children anymore. They have powers that could shake the very foundations of Aerthos."

Elijah nodded solemnly. "Powers that can bring salvation or destruction," he said, his eyes reflecting the wisdom of his years. "I know they won't come back. I wish we had treated them a little better."

 The wheat had been trampled into a crimson mess, the once tranquil field now a canvas of violence. Revy stood in the center, his katana still in his hand, dripping with the lifeblood of the nobleman's men. His eyes were a fiery blaze of determination, each swing of his blade a silent declaration of his resolve.

Dori's eyes were wide, his mouth agape in horror and awe. He had seen Revy fight before, but never with such brutal efficiency. Each strike was precise, each blow a masterful dance of death. It was as if the swordsman personality had taken over completely, leaving no room for the gentle, caring friend he knew.

The nobleman was sitting on his trembling horse; His once proud face was now a mask of fear and disbelief. His men were scattered around them; their lifeless forms were a testament to the young swordsman's power. There were children with extraordinary abilities, and he had heard that they all had noble blood, but he was surprised that this village boy was so talented. He now feared for his life as he watched the red wave radiating from the fallen warriors.

Revy's eyes were cold as ice, the light of battle reflected in them. His movements were a blur of crimson and steel as he dispatched the remaining soldiers with a grace that seemed almost inhuman. Each strike was a silent story of rage and precision, each one telling the tale of a life snuffed out.

Dori watched, his eyes wide with a mix of admiration and fear. This was his friend, the one who had always protected him, the one who had taught him to steal with a smile and a wink. But now, Dori saw a side of Revy that was as unfamiliar as it was terrifying. His eyes were those of a seasoned killer, a warrior who had seen the darkest corners of the world and had embraced the shadows.

The nobleman, his voice quavering, offered a desperate bargain. "I'll give you anything," he pleaded. "My lands, my wealth, anything you desire. Just spare my life." His words fell like pebbles into the abyss of the swordsman's rage.

Revy's gaze was cold and stubborn; His sword was pointed at the trembling nobleman. "You're talking about wealth and land," he said, his voice a low growl, "if we were weak, we'd be dead right now." He took a step closer, the red hue of the setting sun giving him a terrifying silhouette.

The nobleman swallowed hard, sweat rolling down his face like a river of fear. "Anything," he whispered, his voice trembling. "I'll do anything you say."

Revy's gaze was cold and unforgiving, her grip on the katana unwavering. "Are you offering me wealth and power?" His voice was like the calm before the storm. "Even if you are a noble person, I think your mind is not working. I told you that I am interested in the result. As a result, you are a dead man now."

The nobleman's eyes grew wide with terror as the reality of his situation sunk in. "But why?" He stuttered, desperation coating his words like the sweat that soaked his silk shirt. "I can help you! I know people, I have connections!"

Revy's gaze was fixed, her hand on the red sword. "Links?" He spat the word like a curse. "Links can't save your life right now, but " The swordsman's voice was as sharp as the weapon in his hand. "Stop begging in vain, either stretch out your neck like a sheep or be a man and fight."

The nobleman's eyes darted around the battlefield, desperation painted across his face. He saw his men, the men who had followed him into this fool's errand, now lying lifeless in pools of their own blood. His own blade trembled in his hand as he swallowed hard, his mind racing with thoughts of his own mortality.

But the swordsman was already moving, his body a whirlwind of death. The nobleman had time to register the coldness of the steel before his world went dark. The blade sliced through the air, a crimson arc that reflected the dying sun, and found its home in the nobleman's neck. The head toppled, the body following with a sickening thud, as if the strings that held it upright had been cut.

Dori's eyes were wide in shock, his mouth resembling a perfect letter 'O' as the nobleman's head stopped at his feet, the swordsman's lifeless gaze staring up at the sky as if questioning the gods. The red mist that filled the air cleared and the silence that followed was deafening. The only sound was the distant song of a nightingale and the sad lullaby sung for the dead.