The pen mightier than the sword

Since waking in this world, Arata had been searching for the objective, for the way back home. Now, it was written out clearly to him, Reinhardt’s mission was now his. Leona rushed through the garden giving Arata next to no time to soak in the information.

“Excuse me, your majesty.” She took a knee. “I think I may have found a lead.” The queen shot to her feet, her expression losing the fake calm of before and gaining a glimmer more of hope. Leona held out the folded note she had taken from Plotgerät’s room. She took it and unfolded it, scanning each word as if the ink would fall from the page. “The Princess seemed set on hiding it. She’s a kind girl, maybe she was worried what the King would do?” Leona asked.

Suddenly, as she reached the bottom it was like the air had leapt from her mouth. Just five letters made her all the more uneasy.

“Täter…” The Queen muttered, almost as if the letter was an extension of the man, her grip around it tightened, tearing it down the middle. “Your highness?” Leona called.

“I know of him.” She sighed. “He was a guard a while back, and when he was let go he started sending letters to her. For a time she’d receive a note a day, all ramblings and offers for marriage. At first they seemed harmless, almost as if it was a simple crush but, the more he sent the less safe we felt.”

“Letters?” Arata repeated, remembering the chest he had found and all of the notes inside, he still had one with him and handed it to the Queen. “I’m guessing this is one of them? The name given was just T”. The Queen nodded sadly. “She did send him a letter back, about a month ago now. She told him that she appreciated his kind words, but she could not feel the same way. After that we didn’t hear anything… who knew he was planning this.” She was completely drained, crestfallen thinking of this monster taking her daughter in the dark of the night. The two heroes looked between each other, hoping the other had an idea to cheer up their Queen however no words would help now.

“When he was a part of our guard, there was a complaint from one of the maids that he was acting strange around her. We got rid of him, from the sounds of him he became a vagrant outside of town.” She continued. “A few heroes have gone to stop his crimes but not a soul has managed to oust him, we don’t even know of his whereabouts.” She slumped back down, defeated and distraught. The King had been worried, the letters were unsettling and yet both he and his wife were so certain the palace they called home was safe. “What sort of mother am I?” She cried and Leona quickly offered her a cloth. The mission seemed achievable but, to find this Täter and to do so quickly would be difficult. They could sit around and wait, put the scum’s face on the wanted posters and hope some lucky soul would tell the heroes where the Scourge was… but, that wasn’t good enough.

Plotgerät was a kind girl, gentle but also fragile. The thought of it, fighting Täter, a former guard turned rogue, it frightened Arata. After all he’d never been in a fight in his life. His school life was uneventful and though he was in shape he’d still spent ninety percent of his time at a desk. Even still, even with that fear there was a burning deep. This wasn’t about completing a mission or getting home. He’d seen this scene before, skimmed through it without paying much attention. And now, he was living it.

He was living it…

Those panels showed him what was to come, he needed only look. With all his will he searched his memory, trying to clear off the ink and reveal the information they sought.

Slowly, tediously the blots began to fade. A scene of Plotgerät chained to a chair, of a character he didn’t recognise trying to release her, a scene of a monster, and…

His eyes sprung open as wide as they could, and he sprinted down the hallway. Leona and the Queen were baffled and tried to catch up hastily while shouting for him. “Where are you going?! Reinhardt?!” Leona called, slamming into the wall as she turned the corner. The Queen lagged behind.

“The tree, the Queen, the letters… I’ve seen all of this before!”

For a brief moment he was back at his apartment. His editor sat beside him explaining the state of his work. They both read the newest edition together each week, seeing what their rivals were up to and this series was one of them. Sure, this chapter of Reinhardt The Saviour! Came out as his own work was struggling, so he was almost black out drunk when reading it but, it was all coming back to him now. Finally they’d reached the entrance, with guards all around wondering what Arata was doing. He pulled open the door to the outside, and sure enough, that scene came to life. Both Leona and Queen Anna caught up and saw the commotion outside. “I knew it.” He announced.

For outside, guards fought a losing battle, to rogues.

*-*-*

More of the guards from inside the palace rushed out to meet these intruders at the gates, but these men were more than simple criminals. They worked together, striking down each foe with club and hammer. A younger guard, likely experiencing his first real battle, leapt in and was knocked down with ease. A hammer swung down like thunder towards him and he braced for impact but Leona managed to knock the thug away with a well placed kick. Arata stood back, directing the action. Leona was holding up well but the guards were struggling. Arata noticed that every one of them was wearing the same jacket. Deer leather dyed rusty red with fur at the wrists and neck. All of them with the same insignia embossed into the chest, a O with three swords through it. “That’s Täter’s mark” he noticed.

“Indeed” The Queen replied. “And they will be his henchmen. They call themselves Mühelos.”

A gang on the rise they were, terrorising citizens leaving and entering the city. Arata was ever so relieved they had Leona… who was struggling he noticed. She blocked a hammer swing with her arms and managed to push away and get in a good punch but there was no time to safely look around, she was getting swarmed. “Little help here! Reinhardt!” She demanded.

“Uhh…” he stuttered. The Queen gave him a push forward. “Go, sir hero! Do not worry for me!”

Without warning one of the thugs rounded the corner and swung at his head, somehow, through sure dumb luck Arata tripped just before it and landed on his face. His heel catching the attacker in the chin and knocking him out cold.

“Good dodge!” Leona complimented him in between kicks and side steps.

A single tear in his eye, Arata got back up to avoid another hit. Three surrounded him, all slowly approaching with weapons at the ready, and Arata unarmed, unable to back up any further. He desperately searched for a weapon “if I can get a sword I can scare them off!” He realised, and one lay just before him. The thug got there first, smacking it away with his club as he approached. There were no more close enough to reach, but Leona had broken free for a split second, throwing something to Arata. “Reinhardt! Your sword!”

It flew through the air, rather small for a sword but, perhaps it was a folding blade. He reached for it… and it bounced off his knuckle. The three grunts were kind enough to let him heal from the pain and pick it up.

“This blade, this holy weapon of the great Reinhardt! It’s…” he studied it, his expression changing from great confidence to pure bewilderment. His eyes met Leona’s, a face that screamed “are you for real?”

“What?!” She shouted.

Less a weapon, more a tool he was so used to. This was no sword, no dagger or even a pin…

“A fucking pen?!” He screamed. The men facing him stifled their laughter which made Arata feel even more embarrassed. “You said Sword!”

“It is your sword! Are you blind?!” She shouted back, still pushing back the horde. At this point the grunts were too busy being confused to approach Arata, talking between themselves to try and figure it out. As they did Arata tried everything to get a blade to form. Clicking it, swinging it around. Even dramatising it’s edgy reveal, only to feel himself cringe. Leona had obviously seen enough and rolled her eyes. “Idiot! Draw out its power!”

Once again he just looked at it confused, then back at her the way a dog looks at its owner when they’re speaking. “Draw. It. Out!” She repeated, slower this time.

It ticked him off, treating him like an idiot. So, with a sarcastic face, he drew a sword shape in the air behind him while facing her.

Then something hit the ground. He turned and saw the three stooges with awe written on their faces. For when he looked at his feet… a sword of pure air had formed.

“I…” he stuttered.

“Well, that’s new…”