Smaz Inn Trouble

There was a brief silence in the chamber only spoilt by the dripping of the King’s blood onto his throne. Smaz’s sword had penetrated the very heart of the King in one lethal thrust, and without Smaz even having to do anything, but merely think about hurting the King. Was magic to blame for this?

“You MORON!” came a piercingly cold voice from the assassin, breaking the melancholy silence that had erupted within the room, “Idiot! Iiiiimbecile!”

“I do not know what hurts worse – your blade or your insults.” Smaz remarked from his high-up position. There was little he could do to aid in the situation but hover in his position, engulfed with the magical white light.

“Not even I expected such a move, but now look what you have done – you have killed my opportunity for riches beyond imagination!” Spat Aera, growling all the while. “You gimp – King Yutah would have paid me a hefelant’s load of gold for eliminating you! Just you wait until you get your arse down here so I can kick it soooooooooooo hard, you’ll wish you were never born!” shrieked the assassin, purely enraged that she had been robbed of her money.

Smaz hung his head. He had never meant to kill the King. Although he did feel contempt for his recent decisions, he never wanted to kill someone so high up in position. He was used to death, as was Aera, but Yutah was a different matter. However, that was not the only thing that made Smaz hang his head.

“You know… I do wish I had not been born… life seems meaningless when it only consists of your own self…” Smaz trailed off. His memory flashed back to the image of his mother’s death and to his loneliness in both family and when being a knight for the King.

Aera could neither feel sorry for Smaz nor be mad at him anymore.

At that moment, several guards burst through the door, guns up at the ready, and some spears, too.

“We heard some commotion in here – what’s going on?!” shouted one. Immediately Aera jumped to the left wall and propelled herself behind the guards and out the door in swift reaction. It didn’t take long for the guards to notice the blood puddle leaking onto the floor, and the sword in the King’s dead body. Putting the two and two together, the guards shouted up the Smaz in anger.

“Smaz… how co-why… how…?” The guards were full of questions, and even more so when they gasped at Smaz floating in mid-air.

“The King ate... a batch of... poisonous lumpy lemons?” Smaz gave a shy grin, cheekily waving as if nothing was wrong.

“SEIZE HIM!” screamed a guard and immediately the troupe opened fire on the knight.

“Darn!” Smaz shouted and waited for the end to come.

**********

A blinding memory flashed into Smaz’s mind briefly of him being ridiculed by the other knights… with the pain so great he was crying from being smashed against the wall from their heavy armour.

**********

“GRAAAAAAAAAAH!” Smaz yelled in anger. Immediately the bullets stopped in mid-air and stayed momentarily, before whizzing back towards the guards.

There was some screams as some were hit by their own bullets. They were all still alive and kicking, however; their armour too think to be penetrated by a single bullet, each.

“How did he obtain such power!?” a guard shouted to one of his comrades.

“Take this!” Smaz shouted, confident that his magic would defeat these guards outright. Ironically the levitational white aura faded out as he shouted this, and his body started to fall like a brick to the stone floor.

“This is why I hate Mondays!” Smaz shouted, as he fell down. The guards raced towards Smaz’s position, spears up ready for the knight to be impaled on. There was no escaping this.

Smaz died then and there.

Just kidding.

When all hope seemed lost, Smaz closed his eyes, once again and a fleeting memory of his painful past flashed into his mind, once more, as it always did in such near-death experiences. Triggering off something inside of him, the magic flowed back to life, and the Moonsuya sword whizzed towards Smaz with its levitational power. Not at Smaz’s body, but towards his feet.

“We’ve got the traitor no-huh?” a guard called, alarming as the sword swooped above his head and Smaz landed on it with a loud clink. The sword whizzed directly out of the room, away from the guards, and down the corridor, carrying Smaz with it.

There was no time to wonder how the sword was carrying his heavy weight so seamlessly, but all Smaz knew was that he could somehow trigger magic when his painful memories returned to his mind, in those close-call situations.

He neared the front castle doors, knowing that once out, he could never return to the castle or this kingdom, no doubt, since he would be blamed for the death of the King. Just as he came to the doors, a foot extended from the shadows and hit Smaz’s legs, causing him to flip in the air and somersault down to Yarth.

“Oof!” Smaz wheezed, landing on his back, face up to the ceiling. A familiar white face popped her head above Smaz’s and looked down on him, blade down to his eyes. His sword twanged loudly as it embedded into the wooden doors, ahead.

“You will pay dearly for ridding me of my pay, you little scum-filled rodent.” Aera’s voice was cold, and threatening, despite the situation at hand, occurring all around them.

Before Smaz could say anything, the doors opened and a familiar pair of foolish guards appeared at the doorway, looking at the pair. This was the last thing Smaz needed right now.

“Ooooo!” the Spanish-like guard clapped in delight, “Smazzy got himself a girly, like mine!” He whooped with joy and jumped up and down on the spot, clearly having not heard the commotion from the chamber room.

“I guess you have him where you want her, ol’ boy – on top of yo…” The other guard was cut short when Aera rudely interrupted.

“This knight and I have business to take care of, so shut your faces or prepare to die.” Aera moved her head to look at the pair when she said this, taking her attention away from Smaz.

“Oooh, I bet you do!” chuckled the Spanish guard.

Funnily enough, this distraction was what Smaz needed to escape. As Aera’s head turned around, Smaz launched his feet into the air, knocking the blade away from his face, and hopped up to Aera’s face.

“Ordinarily I do not hit females, but you are hardly my girlfriend. Not that I have ever even had one, anyway,” Smaz remarked, blowing his fist sharply before launching it forward as Aera’s head turned back towards him. There was a definitive smack as Smaz’s right fist connected with Aera’s face. Immediately, Aera dropped to her knees in pain and put both of her hands to her face.

“Gwwwaaah!” She shouted in agony.

“Over there!” a familiar guard’s voice called down the corridor.

“Now is my time to exit this madness!” Smaz shouted to the foolish front guards. “Oh, and if you must know, you are fired.” Smaz said to the Spanish guard and his companion before swiftly grabbing his sword, from the door, and for freedom.

“Girl beater!” the Spanish guard called after him in anger.

**********

Out of breath, Smaz quickly turned the corner, after a few minutes of running, and into the Inn. He had already made it to the harbour, and now was left with a dead-end. He slammed the door of the Inn as he entered and leaned against the door, catching his breath. It took him several moments to realise that most were looking at him oddly.

“My greetings... guys…” Smaz wheezed in reply.

“Would you like your usual, today?” the female bartender asked from the bar.

“Yes… please… anything to calm my nerves!”

This Inn was one of Smaz’s regular places to come to. He did not exactly drink alcohol – never touched a drop due to needing to be sober for his occupation – but he did enjoy his fruity drinks. Anything except bananas. Must not forget that. The place had not particularly changed, and nor was anyone in uproar as they continued their usual activities. They had obviously not heard the news, just yet. It was not particularly surprising, since this was a dark pub near the ocean and on the opposite side of town from the castle. The only real source of light was the candles, on the walls.

Smaz walked towards the nearest empty table, in the darkest corner of the Inn – his favourite place to drink his juices. However, he was stopped abruptly short as he heard a shout to his left.

“What do ya mean it’s me’al?” a menacing shout to a middle-aged male called.

“Please…” came the reply of a gruff and deep voiced anthropomorphic man dressed in snazzy attire, “Me ‘and was cut off a looong time ago, so leave me be…” He voice had an interesting accent to it that resembled a pirate’s, and his dialect also reflected this.

“Nah, nah – come on, let’s see ya do some damage with it!” The guy threatening the pirate wore a waist-coat and long, dark trousers, and despite being dressed so smartly, he had a tone in his voice that indicated he enjoyed to live rough and enjoy mugging others for a living.

“I said I don’ wan’ any trouble McClaren…” the pirate replied, taking a sip of his ale.

At that point, the ale was grabbed by the man named McClaren, and smashed against the pirate’s head in a fierce move, spurting ale all over the wall behind him. There was a wail of pain as the pirate pulled his left hand to the top of his head to rub away the epicentre of his trouble.

“…And I said, Marco, that I wan’ trouble. Lemme see ya figh’ me!” McClaren sneered, enjoying Marco’s pain.

“You pile o’ bananas, McClaren!” the pirate, known as Marco, roared. “Yer'll get what ya deserve!” With that, Marco pulled out a pair of pistols, one in each hand, and spun them around in his palms.

“Ya gonna figh’ me properly, or am I gonna ‘ave to yank those cowardly weapons from ye ‘ands?”

“You do that, and I will have to punish you, myself.” came the reply of Smaz, from behind McClaren. The fierce guy turned around until he was face-to-face with Smaz. Smaz could see his angered features clearly from this position. McClaren was, in fact, standing so close that Smaz could smell his rotten pickled breath from his mouth as he breathed heavily upon him.

“No one interrupts McClaren when he’s threatening someone!” McClaren said in a low voice.

“No one has such terrible breath and bizarre literary skills to talk about themselves in third person.” Smaz replied, almost unbothered by the threat, facing him.

“Well I AM!” McClaren roared in irritation, trying to stand as close to Smaz as possible.

“Oh, then you must not by civilised enough. To such an extent, you come close enough to try and kiss me.” Smaz’s reply came in a mocking tone as Smaz stood tall to him.

“I can ‘andle my own battles.” Marco replied from behind McClaren, at his table.

“You probably can, but this guy started on you for absolutely no reason, which makes it my business.”

“You’d better steer clear of ol’ Smaz, there,” the bar mistress replied as he came next to the pair with  a tray, holding Smaz’s fruit drink in a pub glass, “He’ the top knight at the castle, you hear?”

McClaren breathed heavily for a few seconds, staring into Smaz’s eyes before growling and side-stepping the situation.

“Mark my words, Marco – I’ll be back, an’ when ya friend isn’ aroun’ to get in mah way!” McClaren shouted at the pirate, pointing his finger threateningly before storming out of the inn.

“And when that day comes,” Marco replied to himself, “You will ge’ a pistol to the head!”