RPG genre book [WIP]

[Excerpt]

It was just before the break of dawn and the morning dew still hung thickly in the air, still holding back the invasive light of the morning sun. the river flowed steadily and quietly, insects stirred along the banks of the river and drew the early birds who sang and chirped as though cheering for their bounty. The morning was drawing closer and the world was waking up all around him, but Edmond was in another world entirely.

Edmond stood still in the long, narrow boat gliding opposite the current of the river. Behind him, the driving force responsible for its motion was Father Charon Watters – Father Watters, as he was better known to everyone in the refugee camp where he first functioned as a spiritual guide, and later, one of its most important physicians. Providing care for everyone in the camp. And that especially included Edmond who was the son of his closest friend, and that friend was now on a pyre in the boat behind them. Being towed into the river before they set it alight. Edmond had said to everyone in the camp that he wished to send his father off alone. But Watters had no intention of leaving the grieving boy alone.

But from where Edmond stood, he was completely alone. The sound of the morning did not reach him, nor Father Watters empathy. Right then he felt lost and alone. His father had been the one who created their camp. He created a place that accommodated creatures of different faces and footprints, and he’d now left all of that on Edmond’s shoulders.

It’s not as though he was wholly unprepared, his father had been the type to not keep things for his son. So, when he had a dream to travel to the Southern region and created a camp where all races could live together and thrive together. Edmond had seen and heard many people criticize his father’s dream but to him, his father was his hero. And before long, his father’s dream had become his dream too. So, Edmond had always given his all to protect the dream he shared with his father, which wasn’t an easy thing.

It was even tougher when Edmond first awakened his talent. As a berserker class, he was able to quickly snuff out the bandits that had been unlucky enough to attempt a raid on their camp. The shout of victory had quickly given way to screams of terror and panic as the thugs were not enough to satisfy Edmond’s rage and bloodthirst and he had turned on his allies closest to him as he lunged from one to the other bludgeoning them like a beast. He was lucky he was still relatively small when it happened and so he didn’t kill anyone, but it had taken his father and another warrior to hold him down so father waters could calm his rage and return him to his senses.

Since then, he trained more than the other warriors to be able to keep his rage and strength in check and always had father Watters close to him in battle so whenever he used his talent, it would turn to Righteous fury with a prayer from father Watters.

So, standing in cruel retrospect of the previous night’s raid that had cost their camp so much, including his father, Edmond only blamed himself for not being closer to his father

‘If only I was stronger, he would not have died. I would have been by his side. And if I wasn’t, I would not have kept Father Watters from being by his side’ Edmond thought to himself.

But then it occurred to him there were also others responsible. Those scumbag bandits. Individually they were not much, but they had come in such a number the previous night that the warriors had been spread thin trying to protect the camp.

The rage started to boil from within Edmond as he thought. Unaware of the world around him.

“we’re here” Father waters called out.

He had noticed the slight bloodlust seeping from Edmond as he stood silently and he wanted to snap him out of it.

Watters was successful and Edmond – finally pulled out of the world in his head, now looked around to where Father Watters had brought them. The fog was still present but they were close enough to where the river feeds into the sea.

He turned back to see father Watters already untying the rope that kept the boat tethered behind them and carefully pushing it away from their boat, to the open sea. He then stood and handed Edmond a bow and arrow and rested a hand on his shoulder before lighting a lamp and set it on the floor of their boat.

Edmond’s gaze turned from his father’s closest friend to the lamp on the floor of their boat, before finally setting his eyes on the boat drifting towards the open sea– and his father resting quietly atop the stack of firewood tied together and threaded with herbs and flowers and wrapped in dried straws dipped in flammable liquid.

Edmond stooped and set the tip of the arrow alight with the lamp before looking back at his father. He steadied his breath, took aim, and fired.

The arrow streaked through the fog clearing its path before find its target on the side of the pyre. The fire licked the side of the pyre before slowly reaching the top. Before long, his father’s last chariot was engulfed in flames but it stayed above water longer than Edmond expected before it was finally swallowed by the sea. Edmond could barely see it at that point. He turned to Father Watters who dried his eyes with his cloak and gave Edmond two pats on the back.

They sat there for some moments before deciding to return home. This far from the camp, the sun sliced holes through the fog and it reminded them that the camp was still waiting for them, and there was much to be done – especially in light of the raid that caused so much chaos only a few hours ago. He had now put his father to rest, and he knew what came next would be no less difficult.

As though he could read Edmond’s mind, Father Watters called out; “it’s not going to be easy to track those guys.”

“what?” Edmond was caught off guard.

“I know what you want to do now, and I promise you, I want no less to flay those responsible, but.. we need to recover from last night’s loss”

“recover last night’s loss??” echoed edmond incredulously. “what do you think I’m trying to do?! Those bastards took my father. Our chief! Our strongest warrior! There’s no other way to recover than to may them pay!”

“and then what? There’s a bigger picture you must first grasp if you want something like this to never happen again.”

“if I rip apart thse bastards limb from limb, they’ll never do this again. don’t talk to me like I’m a child. I know what im doing.”

“and what about the people who sent those men to attack our camp? You gonna stop them before, or after you rip apart our only lead limb from limb?”

“what do you mean –“

“I’m not talking to you like a child… but I guess you are one afterall. I should correct something else you said while I have the chance too, earlier you said they killed ‘our strongest warrior’, but you’re wrong. Your father sacrificed himself to make sure our strongest was safe.”

“what are you talking about? Who in the camp is stronger than my father?”

“hm, well I’d show you, but I didn’t bring a mirror.”

“Watters… please..” His longest conversation with Father Watters had only been a few minutes, and for good reason. He never had the patience to sit through his riddles and the cryptic way he answers questions. This was definitely an exception, but edmond’s mental fatigue was surfacing in his tone.

“it’s you, Edmond. Everyone in the camp knows this. And when we get back there, everyone is going to be looking to you to tell them the next step to take. And I know your father would not be happy t see you lead the rest of your father’s legacy, your family, to their early graves in pursuit of ill-timed revenge.”

“…ill-timed?” Edmond said carefully

“I already told you. I want revenge just as much as you, maybe more. But we still have so much more to lose if we don’t do this right”

Edmond took a deep breath and exhaled from his mouth. “I understand. Thank you, Watters”