Chapter 3Mature

"What have you done Simon!"

Simon gripped the Grey King tighter, watching as the blood of his little sisters dripped off it's blade. They lay at his feet, both with precise slashes marking their once-adorable bodies. He.. He had killed them. 

Kamen, Simon's brother, smiled from behind their father's raging form. 

No, Kamen had done this. He was at fault! Simon would kill him! He rushed, wielding the massive blade he held with perfection. His father tried to pull his knife and stop him, but it was no use. Simon was the best swordsman the kingdom had, even at the age of 18. 

A sidestep was all it took to dodge his father and rush Kamen. His brother's smile never faltered. Even as Grey King pierced the flesh of Kamen's torso. 

"With this, I have avenged Lumen and Serran!" Simon roared in anger. 

Only, his brother shimmered and Simon realized it was his father, the king of Everglen, that was impaled on his blade. 

Behind Simon, a laughter erupted. "Dear Brother, to be fooled by the same technique twice? How pitiful." 


Simon woke up sweating. The same dream again? Was he never to be free of it!? 

"Hey, wake up, you damn fixer!"

Simon shook his head and rolled from the hard bed in his cell. It had been three weeks since his capture and enslavement on this airship. Being a swordmaster for twelve years and unmatched for the last ten, it was shameful. Of course, how could Simon have predicted they would get him drunk first?

"I'm coming," Simon replied politely. Always show courtesy with those you don't trust, his father had told him. 

Pulling on his boots, Simon examined his massive body. Covering almost all of his heavily muscled torso were tattoos of various shapes and sizes, each representing a man he had killed. Three stood out among the rest. It was a large eagle, with two smaller doves nestled in it's wings. The pain from looking at them was the same.

Simon missed his suit. He missed his sword, too. But, today was not a day for sorrow. He was almost done with his escape route. So, Simon Labrov headed out onto the deck of the Primus, an Airpirate vessel he was charged with repairing. As usual, the crew gave him odd looks and sneers. It was obvious they weren't used to men with red hair. Simon had a wild beard made of red and a messy mop on his head the same color. It was a sign of the lost kingdom of Everglen. 

It only took moments for Simon to find his way to the supply room. As usual, three men guarded the door as he entered and began working on what they thought was a replacement part for the engine. 

The piece in question, of course, was not. 

For the eighteen years after his... departure from his home, Simon had taken up blacksmithing, engineering, and airship repair. It had been something that had started out as a hobby, but had evolved into building weaponry that surpassed modern design. It was... A love. Something that could replace his sorrow from the past. 

As he worked, Simon thought of his plan. This device he was making would work for it. Of that, he was sure. The only issue was waiting until the airship made port in the next town. Simon had about three more hours, from what he could guess. 

So, he decided to listen to the guards as he worked. They, of course, didn't know that he could hear them.

"..and there's a bar there with the finest gals you ever saw," the largest of the three, a man named Gorg, said. 

"Ye can't be serious, man," the second said. His name was Fren. "I swear that ye will n'ver see a pair like that Helda gal in Crenshaw."

The third one wasn't going to talk, of course. Asher never talked. From what Simon could gather on the large man - who was, in fact, actually larger than Simon - he was a tracker hired for half a year to help them track down a few people for the boss of the Primus' captain. Oddly enough, he wore shackles on his arms with no chains.

"My friend, you will see when we get there, I assure you," Gorg said in his smooth way of talking. "We just have to find that witch man and then focus on the gals."

Witch man? So that was the newest target? Well, Simon might be able to save this one. He knew it was stupid to put someone else's life before his own, but he had seen what the men on the Primus did to their victims. No time to waste. 

Honestly, Simon was excited by the danger. 

Two pieces in the device he was working on clicked together and the Steam Ball was complete. Of course, it was really just a large steam engine Simon could strap to his back and a hose that shot a compressed blast of flammable heat. Harmless for the most part, unless you add in the flint....

Simon stood up and strapped on his invention, causing the three guards to move in closer. 

"Wha' are ye doin'?" Fren said menacingly. 

Simon smiled and bowed. "Sorry to alarm you, I simply need to attach this." 

Before the men could say anything more, Simon hit the button to activate the hose and struck his flint on the tip, creating a massive jet of flame that engulfed Fren and Gorg in an instant. Well, there's two more tattoos to add. Two more sins.

Simon moved to attack Asher, but stopped when he realized the man wasn't moving. 

"Are you killing this crew?" he said slowly. 

Simon sighed. "Yes, I plan to stop them from killing their next victim."

The man just nodded. "I was hired to help them track down their targets, nothing more." He turned to walk out the door. "I can't help those who are not living." And then he was gone. There was a hint of happiness in his voice, though Simon could not be sure of it. Oh well.

One less sin to commit. 

Simon moved on, burning those he saw. He needed to get to the armory, grab his Kingslayer and Highbane swords, then kill the others aboard this airship. Before this day ended, Simon would ride a burning Primus into port and gain a new tattoo for the Airpirate crew. 

And yet, the challenge of it all excited him.

The End

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