Sandstorm of Steel
Fate conspired to arrange their meeting.
Jesse could hardly believe it, back in the castle when a few of his attendants informed him of the news. They claimed to have seen a man with purple hair and a gnarled scar: an unfamiliar face in this rough and tumble town they’d built. “No way,” he had said, his eyes flush with shock and mouth hung wide open. Could it really have been him? And so he set out to see for himself.
And sure enough, here he is, standing right in front of him.
It’s almost impossible for Jesse to come up with the right words to say. He’s just, standing there. Like a ghost or some figure of legend. Don’t get him wrong, he remembers fighting tooth and nail alongside him like the back of his hand, but that was long ago. Jesse had established an entire country since they last spoke. There’s a lot to catch up on.
So he laughs. Not the teasing kind of laugh or the mocking kind--the one that seeks to make fun of poor Deer--but in a hearty, familiar way. It’s a laugh reserved for those slightly awkward situations where you want to look like you’ve still got a hold of yourself. Like meeting an old friend.
His eyes dart left as he places a hand on his hip. They look out to the town, to the bustling kingdom he’d made of Grieth’s ugly hideout. What was once a sandy citadel packed with untidy loot, prisoners in peril, and just about the worst men in the continent is now a place many can call home. Its streets are lined with all sorts of goods and people to trade them with, but more importantly, they harbor work. The kind of work someone like Deen might appreciate. Bounty boards, job listing sites, half-filled parties waiting on a few more to make a grand excursion--all are seen in just one of Jesse’s glances. For this is a kingdom of mercenaries. Here, people can come to lend their swords to whoever they wish, for whatever price they agree upon. No kingdom fees to tack on, no strict rules or regulations. People sort out their problems themselves. Of course, Jesse and his motley crew of close associates are quick to chase out any unruly folk who cause trouble during their stay, but it’s otherwise the picture of freedom.
All of this is strange to think about, especially after just a quick look to the side. He’s done a lot since his last conversation with Deen, and a part of him worries about what he might think of it all. Is it too much? Is this dream foolish and bound to be buried beneath the sand? A tiny part of him might believe so, but the rest of his body is screaming ‘no’. And so Jesse shakes off the thought. No use dwelling on things, right? Succumb to doubt and he might actually prove himself right about this whole thing being a bust.
“Geez, I had just gotten used to life without staring at that scowl, you know. Now here you are, about to throw all of that out the window.” Though he may sigh and speak as if he’s bothered by the man’s presence, Jesse couldn’t look happier to see him. That lax and unmistakably confident tone soars a level above the background noise. Deen’s ears might have been drowning in the sounds of blades trading with coin, but the moment Jesse opens his mouth, he’s making sure he’s heard. His lips are beaming, with one eye pulled into a wink while the other burns bright and passionate. A hand--rough and firm--is extended for Deen to shake. Jesse knows that he normally doesn’t do that sort of thing, but is in good enough a mood to try his luck anyways. “Long time no see, buddy! ‘Sincerest apologies if you came all the way out here looking for Grieth. We cleaned up any stragglers and turned this place into something real special.”
“Hope you don’t mind the deal we’ve got going on here instead.”
// @valorsword ; Jesse at Deen