NorseQuest (A Norse Xianxia)

Norse-Dogs - A Gabriel Omake

A crash echoed as two men spoke in perfect unison, "Sustain us in the hour of the combat and of the trial and, if we fall, make us experience the joy of the sacrament of forgiveness." The words were spoken with a pure fervor, a truth that could not be hidden from the world, as the two knights each said their prayer in the time before. The quaking of the gates had already begun, the splintering as force hit it from outside that made the wood buckle and bend. Another crash, and the older knight continued, "Almighty everlasting God, in thy arms may every man be strong, such that they may crush the heathens with belief only in their own ferocity."

The younger of the Knights must have looked perturbed, as the older spoke not in prayer as he regarded his fellow, "Gabriel, you look as penitent as a sinner come to be washed clean. You should be proud, we stand in defense of our proud people, we stand as heroes of Wessex, to defend it against the pagan hordes that would kill its men and defile its women." The older of the men bore a smile on his face - as if he enjoyed where he was, sat upon his steed, opposite the younger who looked miserable as he warred with himself, low to the ground as he was.

"Pride is a sin, Baldwin." The younger of the two said it simply, as he lowered his visor seconds before the gate splintered more. Now men were visible beyond it, men who were hulking, massive, brutish - men who were Norse. "Many men will die today, whether it be our people or theirs. Is it truly righteous to rejoice in ending their lives - is it what God would want, a slaughter?" Far be it from him to lecture his elders, but the words came free, as he thought of all he was taught..

"You mistake yourself, young Gabriel." The older knight lowered his faceplate as well, as his armor surged with strength, "These are not men. These are animals who have taken the shape of men. Animals who take, who consume, who destroy, and defile. You of all people should know that - we all know the story of your squiredom." The story that would follow Gabriel forever - enslaved and returned, the knight who came back. The knight of broken chains, all those names. "These monsters are not worthy of consideration, any moreso than a wolf should be amongst a herd of sheep."

"Perhaps." Could he argue, with the rage he still felt in his heart - his burning rage at his captor? Was that the measure of a Norseman, truly? Regretful or not, the Knight drew his blade as he moved forward in time with the Gate finally shattering. The first Norseman to catch the blade through his wrist did not look like a beast, as he yelled in pain and bled red blood, just like a man. The man channeled that rage as he stabbed forward, his entire body moving into the rush of the blow, as he cleaved further up the arm, splitting the arm practically in two as he carved from sword-hand to shoulder, leaving the Norseman writhing and howling in the pain of it, as rage took over for the moment.

"Aha, you have stolen first blood despite yourself! And yet, I claim the first to have fallen truly." Baldwin's lance pierced through the head of another Norseman, as Gabriel glanced over for just a split second - just long enough for the blood running into the man's blonde hair to send Gabriel into a fit of nausea, throwing off his parry of the next Norseman's blow - which bounced off his Armor as if it did not exist. Images of Halla overlaid themselves on what the boy saw, once more young and heart full of butterflies, as he imagined the face of the woman who showed him that the Norse were people, not animals. The boy held the food that was in his stomach in - and much as he forced down his lunch, he pressed his emotions downwards.

Even as he cleaved the man from shoulder to hip, the Knight was not watching the battle. The screams, the taunts, the lewd accusations, the yelling of challenges, they bled into the background as the boy forced himself to be a man once more. "Mother mary watch me as I walk upon these fields," The prayers were silent, as he focused himself, tearing his thoughts away from a red haired norsewoman who was nowhere near this battlefield, "Let kindness and devotion be my guides," The silent prayers drowned out everything as the Boy became the Man, and the Man became the Knight, rage and devotion mixing inside of the armor. "but let them not lead to weakness, but strength, as I protect His flock from those who would destroy it."

And at the end, the Knight stood tall and unbending as the Norsemen fled, carrying those they could on their back - the uninjured Knight allowing their escape. They were men, caring for each other in their own way. The Man stood still as he watched those who were left behind, the streets dyed red in their blood. They were men, bleeding just as men would bleed. The boy held back the choking breaths as he listened to those begging to be finished off, begging for a release from pain. And in every man he saw the few he knew, whom he did not hate - Halla, who freed him so readily, and sought to protect her family and kin. Stigmar, who showed the loyalty befitting of a Knight. Even Abjorn, loathe as he was to admit it, who was never in a day cruel or wrong to whom he said he loved. These were who the boy saw beneath his feet, as the Norsemen died.

"We certainly gave them a what-for, aha!" Baldwin was still in good spirits, despite his Steed's injury preventing him from chasing down the remnants, "I must say, you fight like a man possessed once you start moving - I suppose it must be personal for you, after all! At first I thought you a fool, moving without Steed or Hawk, but you truly have found your own way, my young compatriot! We are lucky to have had a man such as you return from the clutches of those vile animals." A slap on the back made the young man release his held breath. "I insist we celebrate! We drove those monsters off, and I cannot say anything deserves succor more than doing such work for our King and the Lord!"

"...I must excuse myself." The words were measured and chosen, "I would like to seek His guidance in prayer, after such. Do not allow me to keep you." It had become a... habit, now - the halls of stone and the colored glass giving comfort to the weary soul that was the Knight, the Man, and the Boy all at once. Gabriel of the Blackstone family removed his Knightly Armor, and kneeled in prayer. Every time, a prayer for clarity, a prayer for guidance, a prayer for something to calm his troubled soul.

"Heavenly Father, why must I suffer so?" The prayer was in quiet, the hero of the hour afforded his time to seek the Lord, "In my heart, I have one wish, and it is to kill a Man. And yet I see him as a Man. Even as I see him killing my teacher, I see him as a Man. Even when I remember the feelings of chains, I know they were put there by a Man. Heavenly Father, I need your guidance - you say that man should not kill man, but your followers say that some Others are not men at all. Am I wrong to seek to kill what I see as Man..." Another breath, another hesitation, as the Knight-Man-Boy all trembled, "Or am I wrong to give mercy to what others see as Monster?"

"Why must I wake feeling unfaithful to your teachings, and rest feeling guilty for those I slew? Is not one enough for a man?" There was no answer. There was never an answer. God worked in mysterious ways.

And the young Knight would have to find his answers on his own, as he tried to answer who he was.



I'm not sure I did this omake complete justice, but I've been wanting to do something Gabriel focused for awhile. The idea of him at a crossroads, pulled between ideals, desires, and emotions.

I can be bad at presenting stuff, so to explain how I characterized this;

The Boy/The Innocent - The Gabriel who sees people as people, who found those who he liked even amongst enemies, and does not want to inflict the violence he must upon them.
The Man/The Sinner - The Gabriel who wants nothing more than to kill Steinarr, not as a Knight taking victory over a heathen foe, but as personal vengeance. Who revels in it, even as it stains him.
The Knight/The Ideal - The Gabriel who pushes everything down and forces himself not to feel personally, who embraces his Armor and his Duty, and tries to pursue the impossible ideal.

This isn't meant to represent some weird multiple personality split or anything. Just... all the different ways Gabriel feels, that are contradictory perhaps, and perhaps the way he copes.