Searching For Andromeda 95 Commemoration To The Strongest Group

The strongest group of the Red Alaris Guild comprised of four members; from the swordsman Pelmon, to the marksman Arletha, the mage Vashti, and lastly, to the healer Hosea. They are considered as the strongest team in the guild, rivaling the Blue, Yellow, and Green Alaris Guild altogether. This is why it spurred the adventurers and common folk alike when they heard that Yael, the man who was known to be Shey Ramgold's most trusted s-rank warrior, joined the party to embark on a prodigious quest.

Alaris is a small country located in the eastern continent, Triefan. The eastern continent comprised of sandy deserts and a climate that is soaring hot during the day, and arctic-cold in the night. The five countries in the continent have particularly the same tropics, but not the same resources and riches. Alaris, being small and surrounded by the ocean with its northernmost part being the capital and the home of Nar's dungeon, was prosperous with fis.h.i.+ng businesses, given the fact that its capital was near the calm oceans, Escota Pacific. 

Ephraim and Samuel were toured by the guild master to Alaris to its streets to buy the things they need for their journey. They went out that morning after breakfast wearing their full gear. Samuel thought it was weird and awkward, considering the two of them were from modern civilization dressing up like RPG characters. 

"Well, we're not SO out of place, I think." Ephraim whispered. 

It was true. The streets were chockfull of adventurers, mages, and merchants wearing these 'RPG' clothes Samuel described on the back of his mind. Also, the country Alaris was definitely in one of the movies Ephraim had seen in his teens. It looked like a Persian town that was brighter and had a more encompa.s.sing atmosphere.

As they rummaged through the streets, an adventurer came to them and called Shey, saying she was summoned by the guild master of the Blue Alaris Guild. 

"I'll be leaving you boys for a while," Shey said. "I'll be in the guild. You know where that is, right?"

Ephraim and Sam nodded. And with a wave of her hand, Shey disappeared to the crowd. 

Samuel glanced at Ephraim's belt and then pointed to the weapon strapped on it. "Why did you bring that? Are you going to fight?"

Ephraim tilted his head. "Ah, this?" He gave Samuel a smile. It was the sword he used in the dungeon, which found its way back to him when they were being transported back to the country. "I'll be searching for its sheathe. It's quite sharp, after all." And before Samuel could respond, his ear twitched upon hearing multiple whispers and lurid mumbles.

"Hey, aren't those . . ."

"That's THEM, right?"

"The dungeon conqueror . . ."

In the blink of an eye, the crowd that was doing their own businesses s.h.i.+fted their attention to them. 

"They're the ones that conquered the dungeon, huh?"

"Foreigners conquering Alaris' dungeon . . . just HOW in the world did they defeat Yael?"

"Well, Red Alaris Guild's strongest group are wiped out with just two children. I think we overestimated Ramgold's self-proclaimed warriors."

Samuel's mouth opened to let out a banter, or a sarcastic quip, but he was stopped short by Ephraim's gloved hand by his shoulder. Samuel looked back to Ephraim, who only gave him yet another smile.

"We still have a lot of stuff to buy," Ephraim said. "And people to ask."

**

Ephraim Ignacio Hughes was his name, but in here he was 'The Dungeon Conqueror'. When the guild master introduced Ephraim to the guild members, they were welcomed with a cold and distant greeting. Of course, it was natural. The questions in their eyes were pretty much predictable and would be heard loud and clear, even by the oblivious Samuel.

"Why is it YOU who became the one to conquer the vessel?"

"WHY in the world are you two alive, and Yael and the others dead?"

These questions were unspoken, but unmistakably directed to them. The guild master, sensing this, led Ephraim and Samuel away and then back to the streets. After their brief introduction to the members of the guild, they were back into the noisy thoroughfares of Alaris. Supposedly this should be later but the air was so heavy even Shey made the decision of going out.

After pa.s.sing by and ignoring the prying eyes, Ephraim and Sam decided to go enter one of the stalls. First, they went to the weaponry shop. There, they met a stereotypical blacksmith in every game. A burly, bearded man with a dirty ap.r.o.n and is furnis.h.i.+ng a sword.

"Oh, if it isn't the dungeon conqueror and his young companion!" Said the blacksmith. "Welcome to my humble shop. Name's Frod. How can I help ye?" The accent of the man was so brusque to the point of Raim's thoughts wandering yet again to the movies he watched, finding the comparison best suited to blacksmith Frod. . . . Frod. Frodo?

"Um, here," Ephraim drew his sword, snapping back to reality. "I need a sheathe for a sword this long . . . and a small dagger for this boy here, if you may."

Samuel raised his brow. "Small dagger?" Samuel's electric-blue eyes darted to the blacksmith. "I need a sword. Don't listen to him."

"Aye. Sheathe, sword, and dagger it is!"

And as blacksmith Frod held Raim's sword, he blinked. 

"Hooh, what a heavy blade," he said. "You are able to swing this with an arm like that?"

Samuel's stifled laughter and the blacksmith's bewildered expression made Ephraim certain that he was being mocked. He smiled, nonetheless. 

"Still . . . what a fine white metal. I have never seen 'nything like it before. Must've been made by special material. Treasure from the dungeon?"

"Not exactly," Ephraim said. He tried to smile again, hiding the thoughts running to the back of his cognizance. The sword that had stabbed Pelmon and was shrouded with dried blood in the dungeon flashed against his mind. "Well, I guess there's a sheathe here about this length. Let me search for it. In the meantime, you lads can search for a dagger and a sword in that part.i.tion,"

Ephraim and Samuel nodded, walking towards the divider that hung weaponry, armory, and even items the two of them aren't familiar with.

"This is looking more and more like an RPG game," Samuel said. He eschewed fiction, and so this was certainly one of the things he found unenjoyable. Besides, even if he DID like it, he wouldn't be jumping in joy by ending up here either. 

Ephraim, on the other hand, was deep in thought. There were so many things that were bugging him right now. First is the president's words, then the missing task force, Andromeda, Alaris, Patriargë . . . he couldn't keep track of them, which is why—

"Oi, Lame Leader," it was Samuel, interrupting Raim's train of thoughts. "Are you with me, or are you back on the cosmos again?"

Ephraim blinked several times. "I'm sorry. What is it you're telling me?"

Samuel sighed, and then s.h.i.+fted his attention back to the weaponry, scrutinizing the objects he could lay his hand upon.

"Nothing," Sam mumbled. "It's just that . . . in here, there's no time for weeping over someone's death. Like a funeral. But then again, we're not on earth."

"Funeral?"

"You see, I asked Shey about it yesterday. If they were going to do some funeral for Yael and the others," Samuel said, his electric-blue eyes distant. "But then she said they don't commemorate the deaths of those who are already in Wahid's side."

"Wahid?"

"You know, the Supreme Being," Samuel sighed. "I just wish there was a commemoration or something."

Ephraim patted Samuel's shoulder.

"We can hold that to ourselves if they don't have it," Ephraim said. "The commemoration for the strongest group."

Samuel mustered to implore a small smile.

"Yeah."

**

"So, we got to buy you a sword, a dagger, the sheathe, and a duffel bag packed with some first aid, maps, and a backpack that has a sleeping bag and container for cooking and generally for survival stuff," Samuel listed down to his head as he counted by his fingers. "Still, isn't that some flashy sheathe?"

Ephraim glimpsed back to the sheath of his sword. It was made with a white-gold pattern that matched the sword's overall scheme. "Blacksmith Frod went quite overboard."

It was around noon when the two of them finished buying all they needed—and by this time, Samuel and Ephraim were in the paved roads near the sea, sitting to one of the wooden boxes that contained goods. Since they were in another world, the sunset seemed a bit more emphasized than ever before. Ephraim and Samuel watched the hue of purple, pink, and orange mix as the sun sets to the vast, crystal, and tranquil sea.

"What a sight to behold," Ephraim said. 

"Yep," Samuel said; his electric-blue eyes darting towards the blue flower growing on the edge of the box they were sitting to. He had the urge to pick the flower and throw it to the ocean, but that would only waste its beauty. Instead, his fingertips touched the flower, poking its petal while welcoming the breeze of the ocean to his face.

"I'm glad you're back to your old self, Sam." 

Samuel only raised his brow. 

"Since we have three more people to find and a promise to keep, I figured there's no room to weep." Samuel grinned. "Not that I ever wept, though."

Ephraim closed his eyes after flas.h.i.+ng a small smile; enjoying the peace while it lasts.

After all, . . .

. . . this was the last time he would be able to savor it.

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