Real Fake Fiance - Volume 1 - Chapter 1.2

There once was an island by the name of Lodoss.

It was a large island located to the south of the continent of Alecrast. To get to the island from Alecrast would take about twenty days by ship. Due to this distance, there was little contact between the continent and the island of Lodoss. It would be fair to say that the only real contact the people of Lodoss had with the continent was the trade carried out by the galleys of the free city of Raiden, located in the northwestern part of the island.

Among the people of the continent, there were those who called Lodoss “The Cursed Island”. Truly, on Lodoss there were many places that one could not help but consider cursed. The Forest of No Return, the Desert of Wind and Fire, and the Dark Island, Marmo. In underground labyrinths throughout the land, horrible monsters slithered, and the teachings of the dark god Falaris still held sway.

Thirty years earlier, powerful demons had broken the seal of the demon palace known as the Deep Labyrinth, enveloping all of Lodoss in the depths of terror.
The fight against the demons lasted three years but in the end, the humans, dwarves, and elves renewed the seal, trapping the demons once again. After thirty years, even the scars left by this battle had healed, and life had returned to a boring but peaceful rhythm. But tales of this incident reached as far as Alecrast, confirming the rumors that Lodoss was cursed. To the residents of Lodoss, their island’s reputation was a trifling matter - they were too busy with the important matters of their day-to-day lives to care.

On Lodoss, several kingdoms flourished.

The biggest of these was the mountain kingdom of Moss in the southwestern part of the island. The ancient gold dragon Mycen, known as the Dragon Lord, still lived there, and had become the patron diety and the symbol of the kingdom.

In the center of the island was the Holy Kingdom, Valis.It was a peaceful kingdom ruled by one of the Six Heroes who had shut the demons inside the Deep Labyrinth, King Fahn. The followers of the supreme diety Phalis being numerous, his temples were of course powerful in Valis. Since the king himself was crowned on the authority of the temple, the strict laws of Phalis were enforced throughout the land.

The desert beyond Valis had recently become the kingdom of Flaim after a heated battle with the desert tribesmen. Lead by the Mercenary King, Kashue, who had the reputation of a great man, and his knights, it was a lively young country.

Kanon, the country in the southeast, was lead by a scholarly king. There, the land was bountiful, and it was famed for its riches.

The island to the south, Marmo, was also known as the Dark Island. In addition to great numbers of evil goblins, most of the criminals exiled from the main island of Lodoss took refuge on Marmo. Twenty years earlier, a soldier calling himself Emperor Beld had conquered the island and made it into an empire. Of course, many were those who disobeyed the new emperor, and the flames of insurrection blazed across the island on multiple occasions. But each time, Beld personally lead his troops, ruthlessly crushing the rebels. In recent years, Marmo had enjoyed a sort of peace, though perhaps only in appearance.
Finally, in the northeastern part of the island was Alania, the oldest of Lodoss’ kingdoms, known for its vibrant culture. Its cobblestone streets and the marble castle built by dwarves were the pride of its people.

In the kingdom of Alania, there was a town called Zaxon. It was a small town situated in the middle of a peninsula to the north of Alania’s capital city, Alan. Though it was less than a ten days’ journey from Alan, it was a simple village, in contrast to that great city.

The people of Zaxon were faced with a great problem.

“I said I would defeat them!”

The bang of a fist on a table resounded through the only tavern in Zaxon. The wooden cup that had been sitting on the table fell over, spilling its contents.
About thirty villagers were assembled in the tavern. A young man was standing at a table in the front, and the others were sitting here and there in a variety of chairs. The young many was fully clad in plate armor, with a bastard sword hanging at his waist. The sword had a long hilt so that it could be used two-handed if necessary. Since he also bore a thick shield on his back, if he’d had a helmet he would have been the perfect picture of a knight. But on his breast, instead of the insignia of some king or lord, his armor bore only a few deep scratches.

“Listen up, Parn.” The village chief spoke to the young man glaring at him as though rebuking a child. “Even if you go by yourself, it won’t solve anything. Yes, the enemy is just a band of goblins, but they are numerous. No matter how much confidence you have in your prowess, there is no way you can defeat so many of them.”

Parn scowled at him, not hiding his frustration. This whole time, the villagers and chief had kept repeating the same arguments. Their stubbornness and cowardice knew no bounds.

“That is exactly why I came to you for help! As you say, Eto and I have little chance against such a large band of goblins on our own. But those of us assembled here can fight! If we show fear before a mere band of goblins, we will bring shame upon our village!”

Parn looked around the group. Everyone avoided his gaze, and he waited patiently for someone, anyone, to lift their head and look him in the eye.

The village’s problem was, of course, goblins. As soon as the snow had melted, a band about twenty of them had set up residence in a nearby cave. It had been three months since they moved in, but they had yet to make any move against the village. Knowing the evil nature of goblins, though, it would not be long before they would visit some calamity upon their neighbors.

Parn had called together all those villagers who seemed fit to fight in the hopes of defeating the goblins. Thirty villagers ought to have a clear advantage over only twenty goblins. But he had not counted on their reaction…

“Nothing bad has happened yet. Maybe nothing will ever happen. Why should we go seeking trouble, and give them a reason to fight us? And if anything goes wrong, they will surely take the opportunity to attack the village as well,” murmured one of the villagers. Parn looked at him in despair. It was Zamjee the hunter. Parn had been counting on his prowess as an archer most of all.
“Zamjee, that’s a dangerous idea. You know as well as I how awful the goblins are. If we wait until the village is in danger, it will be too late. But if we beat them now, the danger will be gone.”

As Parn said, he knew of the evil of goblins. Like elves, they were fae, but in the distant past they had entered the service of the god of darkness and their forms had become twisted and ugly.

“But-” Lyott, the woodcutter, looked up and raised his voice in protest. He was the strongest man in the village. Other villagers spoke up as well, but none of them agreed with Parn.

Given into his anger, Parn struck the table again. This time the table itself gave a jolt and fell over, landing on the floor with a loud bang.

“My father fought against thirty bandits! Are you saying that you don’t have even a tenth of his courage?”

“I’ve heard that story before. Didn’t your father abandon his post as a knight, meet those bandits while running away, and get himself killed?” Mort, the owner of the general store, said this in a sarcastic voice. Along with old Jet, the owner of the tavern, he was considered one of the most knowledgeable people in town.

All the blood drained from Parn’s face. “My father… don’t you dare insult my father!”

“I’m just repeating the rumors. If those rumors are false, why has the coat of arms of the Holy Knights been scratched off of your armor? Why did your mother have to leave Valis for a tiny village like this?”

Parn put his hand on the hilt of his sword. The urge to draw it and cut Mort’s head off boiled up from deep inside him. But taking arms against a civilian would have been an act of evil.

“I understand,” he muttered weakly, releasing his grip on his sword, “if that’s how it is, me and Eto will take care of it.”

Parn strode out of the room, flinging the tavern door open in front of him. Until the sound of his armor had faded, the villagers stayed in their seats, hanging their heads.

“He can’t seriously intend to go there with just Eto for company,” whispered Lyott to his neighbor, Mort.

“Of course not! Even he wouldn’t do such a reckless thing…” Mort said, as though trying to convince himself. The villagers were familiar with Parn’s character. If it was in the name of justice, he would rush into danger without a care in the world.

The village chief listened to this exchange for a moment, then quietly exited through the doors Parn had flung open and walked to a house just outside the village.

Parn returned to his house and opened the door. His heavy strides made the floor squeak, and the spikes on his boots dug new scratches into the wooden floor.

“How was it, Parn?” asked a voice from inside the room.

“Awful,” said Parn to the man standing in the room. It was a priest. He was wearing a bleached white cotton robe with a bright blue sash around the waist. The amulet hanging from his neck bore the symbol of Phalis.

The priest, Eto, was Parn’s childhood friend. Both of them had lost their parents at a young age, and this had drawn them together. Eto’s personality was the opposite of Parn’s - he showed little emotion and always acted with discretion and prudence. But both of them had the conviction to see their goals through to the end, regardless of the obstacles in their way.

Listening to Parn’s speach, Eto took his amulet in one hand and chanted the name of Phalis in a low voice.

“Well, it can’t be helped. The villagers haven’t gotten themselves mixed up in this, and even in the last war against the demons, this country was the only one that remained neutral.”

“But I can’t fight twenty goblins all on my own!” Parn sat down at the table in the center of the room, pulled his leather waterskin off of his back, and drank the contents in one gulp. Once he had finished, he let out a great sigh and dropped the waterskin on the table.

“That said, we cannot afford to leave the goblins alone. Everything is fine for the moment, but we don’t know when they might pose a threat to the village.” Placing his hand lightly on his amulet, Eto had taken the tone he used to convey the teachings of Phalis to the villagers. After four years of religious studies in Alania’s temple of Phalis, Eto had finally been ordained a priest and returned home to Zaxon quite recently. He was not yet permitted to head up his own temple, but merely to teach at the side of the road or in meeting-houses.

“But can the two of us really do it? There are twenty of them! That’s ten times as many!”

Perhaps an experienced warrior could have defeated ten, twenty, or even thirty goblins. But it would be years before Parn could hope to reach that level.

“There might be a way.” Eto stood stock-still, deep in thought. His chin sunk into his chest, his eyes stared at nothing.

Since Parn had known Eto for most of his life, he knew better than to interrupt him when he was lost in thought. In any case, as a warrior, if he could train his body to cut down his enemies, that was enough.

“I don’t think this is a very good strategy but…” Eto lifted his head and turned to face Parn.

Parn grinned. “You’ve made up your mind? Good, let’s go.”