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Chapter 1: A New Blade

Ever since I was younger, at least ten years old, I wanted to see the world in a much more different view than what was already known. Up until about three years ago I had no family to tie to; only my duties of which I made my living. My loyalties were vital to my superior. I did not go outright against them, but I cannot say our actions were faultless. We were the lowest in the social class of Europe. Our title were brigands, more or less bandits; thieves, mercenaries and assassins that answered to only one person: Chester. He was not the oldest among us, but probably the most cunning.

For a while now, he had been teaching me tactics of laying low in battle and other things only he believed I could only do. But as I had said before, I took no one as a friend.

"How about a quick sparring match, Miser?" I asked. The two of us were in an open glen not very far from downtown London. Greenish, dark hair fell in her eyes as she unsheathed her katana, Red Crow. "Just cuz you have one weapon doesn't mean I'll hold back." I shook my head as I took out my iron staff, "Of course not."

We both measured about a seven foot distance from each other, then Miser threw her boomerang-like shruiken at me. It managed to spin around my head before reaching my shoulder. However when she slashed at me once with her sword, my staff clashed with the blade. Instead of jumping backwards, we pushed our weapons closer to the other's. "You've...sure gotten...stronger," I muttered under the pressure. My opponent replied, "So have...you, Mel. But you need to fight more men; they're perfect practice!"

Miser had a propensity to fight a lot of men; many more than me. I can't say that she killed any because the two of us were theives. I wasn't so much of a pickpocket as I was a true cat burgler, but I stole anything from hotels and whatever any weary traveler carried in the woods. Theft was my only way of life, but my knowledge of many different weapons was Chester's real reason for taking me under his wing.

Rusty Wing was once again thrust at me and I spun my staff to counter it. Miser caught her shruiken and swung her sword. The blade landed on my arm shortly before I kicked the outside of her legs and knocked her down. She dropped her katana, but as Miser jumped to her feet, she countered my head-long attack. Before I noticed how she held her sword, I felt a dull jolt of pain in my stomach which caused me to fall backwards. Peering up, I saw that Miser had hit me with the handle of Red Crow. "Didn't you say that yer used to wielding Chinese Blades?" she asked while pointing the end of her blade towards my face. All I did in return was place both pairs of for and middle fingers together, pressed them on the sides of the blade and pushed it up and away from my face.

"If you know how to wield a sword, use one," Miser snapped, "I wasn't planning on killing you today, but at least put those long boots to some use!" Looking down at my black boots, I knew that she had a point. Although she was only half serious about killing me, Miser knew how to hide her weapons skillfully. That was a major objective when we acted as commoners. The iron staff I carry around is of sentimental value, so I never really can part with it. But truth be told, I had taught myself to use a Chinese blade because they are usually common around here. "Are you going to the market on your way to go to Chester's?" I asked. Miser sheathed her sword and answered, "Nah. I've gotta check on the Valentine Mansion. Let me know if you run into Greed."

Among Chester's brigands, Greed was the only one whose origin and lineage were unknown. Miser's family, I heard, died in a shipwreck coming from Japan. Why she yearns to become the world's greatest thief is a complete mystery to me, but I have no particular reason to ask why. Red Crow and Rusty Wing were the only things left that reminded her of her parents. As for me, I had lost my parents in a house fire three years ago and I could read, write and wield a limited amount of weapons. My rod is able to contract and extend at will. It was sometimes useful, but other times, like Miser had said, was a hassle.

I shrank the rod to one foot long and slid it into underneath my belt as Miser ran to town. The road I took was seperate from hers, but the destination was the same to some extent. With my face looking ahead, I kept my eyes on the weapons shop. My feet felt the dirt road begin to harden as I got deeper into town. The sky above me was a little cloudy, but no less homey. I turned to see that my destination was right beside me.

Opening the door, the bell in the doorway jingled to notify my presence. "Hello there!" a cheerful voice welcomed me. At the counter was a girl in an apron with a red dress underneath that looked to be my age. Behind and beside her were nothing but weapons. There were axes, sickles, and swords. The swords, I could tell, were categorized by origin and discipline: Chinese blades and Chinese swords were first, then katanas, then twin swords, rapiers and one extra long sword. Over the years I had encountered people with all of these types of swords, except this one. I had only heard about the type; it was called a zweihander, or beinhander. Only those with the strength and will were able to fight with one. "All that you see except this one are for sale," the shopkeeper said. Thinking as much, I asked, "Was it in for repairs?" She shook her head, "Just some proffesional cleaning. The owner had dropped by less than a week ago, It was well kept, but he insisted that I'd have it done. And by the way it looked, I could tell that he was no ordinary swordsman." I looked down at the sword and back at her as she continued, "He looked like a knight or a mercenary, I couldn't really tell."

From my research, and my father, only landsknects had zweihanders. Not that I myself had met any, but it was rare to find swords fo that kind. "Many have offered to buy it, but I told them the what I had just said to you. I haven't seen the owner lately, but if you do, tell him that is sword is finished for cleaning and tune-up." Nodding, I asked, "What does he look like?"

"He's a blond haired man with blue eyes who looks around twenty. There's a scar that goes down the right side of his face, and he's only a little taller than the both of us." That was quite a description coming from a store keeper. Usually, they'd be like, "He was a blond-haired, blue-eyed man." But she added, "Enough of that! Haha, would you like to buy something?"

I nodded, "What is a good Chinese blade?" She handed me one in which was rather impressive with a blue handle and sharp edges. "This one just came in. The blade is sturdy and isn't too heavy eigher. Try it out, if you like." My left hand reached for the handle and grasped it. About as long as my arm, the sword was balanced in my grip. I swung it once, and the blade cut through the air with ease. "Like it?"

"I'll take it."

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GarnetHikari: What did you think for the first chapter? Please comment.