3. The Cervantès lineage

The Cervantès lineage

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    Character : Lucrecia Cervantès
    Player : Gaerielle

    "One's life is worthless, until proven otherwise."
    The man's armor reflects the light as much as Lucrecia's wet eyes while he lectures her, both his swords in his hands, standing straight. Just like he has ordered, a Temple's guard is already taking her away, his task made hard by the strength of the girl fighting with dispair. The guard whispers three words in her ears while he pulls her slowly away from the battlefield, leaving the heavily armored man and the Temple's High Priest.
    "I am sorry."

    Arthur Cervantès was standing silently, staring at the rising sun, when he heard the man come behind him. His back was exposed, and he had no weapon with him, but he trusted him with his life, and even more. He had dedicated it to him.
    "I have heard about Scylla. I am sorry."
    Arthur didn't answer. The morning light was making the southern end of the Rawlinswood glow with shattering colors, giving it a weird mystical look, as if Bezentil was trapped between the hands of a green illusionist casting a spell on the town. Making it suffocate, it seemed to him. Usually the sight of the dawn was making him feel like blessed by Lathander - however today the sun was dark to him, and silent as the moon.
    "At least the child survived. She gave her life for him, and such a proof of love and hope has become rare around here. She was a kind woman. I know this will be your son's case as well."
    "It's a girl, Mazzic."
    "Oh."
    The elven priest came to Arthur's side and set a gentle hand on his shoulder. He knew how torn the man's heart had to be, and respected his silence, turning his own gaze to the woods. They remained like this, as if frozen in time, until Arthur found the strength to speak again.
    "I don't think I could ever love another woman. I guess this is the end, then. Somehow I feel relieved. I don't know how good I could have taught my heir about our purpose."
    "You will teach her, and will be an excellent father and master. I know you will. She can become as good as any man, and this will be far from being the end of your lineage. I am not a wise person, but…"
    "You are."
    The words were spoken firmly. Arthur was stubborn. The priest didn't object - he knew he could never make him change his mind now. And this was not the place or time for such an argument. He continued.
    "...but I see no reason why you shouldn't treat her as your rightful heir. She'll be loved, and will get strength and skills from you. And the kindness of her mother."
    There was another long pause before Arthur opened his mouth again.
    "What shall her name be ?"

    "One worthful life is to be protected at all cost. Remember this."
    Lucrecia raises a hand, trying to get out of the guard's hold and extending her arm to try to reach her father whose voice and words are making her heart break. She lets out a painful scream that constrasts with the man's tender tone.
    "No ! Father !"
    "Remember this…"

    The girl was crying, her head resting against her father's chest. Arthur had his left arm wrapped protectively around her waist, and was keeping his large sword under the brawler's throat. The drunk man spit on him, blood already mixing with his saliva from his wounds, but Arthur didn't even wipe it from his heavy armor. Instead he raised his arm and swung it right at the man's face, the flat side of the one-and-a-half hand sword hitting it with amazing strength and sending him against the wall. The man fell uncounscious on his side with a loud thud. Seeing this, the girl raised tearful eyes to her father's narrowed ones.
    "Remember this. The man's worthless. You shall have no respect for such persons."
    "But you always said…"
    The man sheethed his blade silently and pressed his finger on his daughter's lips.
    "Protect the one you judge the most deserving. That is the purpose of our line, and you bear its mark within your blood. Some people are meant to do great things. Some are not. What good could this one bring to the world ? We are no saviours ourselves, we are on this world to be beside the purest people on their quests and make sure that no harm comes to them until they have fulfilled their destiny. No more, no less. Others will stand on your way, and on the way of the one you've chosen. Have no mercy for these ones, their lives are expendable in comparison to others. Helping the world doesn't mean helping each one - this is beyond our powers anyway. Focus on what can actually be done."
    "Will you kill him ?"
    The man passed his hand tenderly on the girl's cheek to wipe her tears.
    "What he tried to do to you can't be forgiven. You are a very attractive girl, Lucrecia. You took your mother's beauty. This charm of yours is a blessing from Sune, but it can also be a curse if you let others see nothing but this. They'll come to you for nothing else, and this shows the darkness of their hearts. Don't let them abuse of you, ever. What if he does the same thing to another girl ? I won't be there to protect her. I should be at Mazzic's side, not even at yours, as I said we can't watch over everyone. Protecting one person is already a hard enough task. If this man's done it once, he can do it again. And an innocent girl will bear the mark of his action for the rest of her life."
    He lets her go and steps back, taking his sword back from his belt, but hands it to her, knowing she could handle it good enough already. He only says one more sentence before walking away, back to the Temple of Mielikki to find Mazzic.
    "The choice is yours."

    "To find this one worthful life to protect with ours is our purpose. Find yours."
    Arthur gives his daughter these last words and a last tender gaze before she is too far to hear him, and turns back to the Priest. She can only see him step to the elf's side, raising his blades, and is only able to scream as if this would be of any help. The last thing she feels other than her whole soul tearing is the guard's heavy blow on her head, and from the waggon she's left laying on, she moans one last time. Beyond the guard running back to the battlefield, she gets her final blurring vision of her father standing next to the one he has sworn to protect. Of her father falling next to him under the repeated attacks of Malar's lycantropes from the Divine Den. Falling next to Mazzic, giving his own life to protect his. Because this is his purpose. The purpose of his lineage.


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