tthhee oddiissee, Chapter 6

“Well, it’s only natural that you’d want to hear about him; every newbie does. I suppose I wouldn’t mind spinning this yarn again,” the Colonel said, clearly relishing the opportunity to tell his favorite story yet another time.

Mako had been with The Red Band for only a week or so, and while he had a great deal of potential, he was still young and inexperienced. He didn’t fully understand the intricacies of the mercenary life, the key players of the Red band, and had almost no understanding of their star attraction (aside from the obvious).

“This was years before anyone had called me the Colonel and longer still before anyone had referred to our group as The Red Band. We were just a few wandering mercs bag then with big ambitions but little resources.. It was at the edge of the sea, on one of those horrible, cold, gray beaches in the middle of Winter that we had decided to set up camp. We had accepted a job protecting a nearby compound from a planned siege and didn’t seem to have nary the resources nor the manpower to do it successfully. To put it simply: we weren’t getting paid and we knew it.

“And so, I found myself a-wanderin’ down the beachfront, trying to clear my head. Hell, I’ll still do that from time to time today. I looked out to the foggy horizon, nestled into my torn-up pea coat, and I thought seriously about just walking into the water and getting the whole thing over with. I was not always the fearless Colonel you see before me, and in my younger days, I didn’t have the unshakable confidence and resolve you all know me for. I don’t think I could ever really do it, even if I wanted to, and in that spirit, I kept on a-walkin’ down the shore.

“Well, I must’ve still be focused on the horizon, because I damn near broke my face tripping over a strange, silver piece of metal jutting out from the sand. It wasn’t like I had anything better to do, so I started digging away at the hunk a metal down there, and I uncovered a long warhammer. A beautiful piece of smithery, to be sure, but what was most interesting was that it was being held in the largest hand I had ever seen.

“Well, taken as I was with the curious sight before me, I couldn’t help but start to uncover the body of that this here hand belonged to. Much as you might suspect, the rest of the body matched the stature that the hand suggested, and I uncovered arm, a torso, and a big wide face. Truth be told, he looked peaceful, like he was just getting a nap in and I was about to rudely interrupt him. Well, that was closer to the truth than I thought as before I had a chance to start uncovering the rest of him, a deep groan echoed out from his torso. He was getting up and I had more than enough sense to get the hell out of his way. He emerged, just as giant and magnificent as he is today. Seven meters tall, and about half that wide, piled on with enough muscle to destroy anything that got in his way, and the biggest swingin’ dick I had ever seen.” Ro blushed at the description while the group around the campfire laughed.

“It was like he was a weapon, a golem sent to me help turn the tides, clearly capable of great feats in any battle he might be a part of. But at the moment, he just seemed more groggy than anything. He was confused and disoriented, but didn’t seem to be in the foul mood that a man being woken up by a stranger might usually be in. Naturally, I asked him his name, but he couldn’t seem to get the words out. I could tell he knew the common tongue perfectly well, he didn’t seem to have any trouble understanding me, —even with my accent!— but had couldn’t use it. It was as if he was just getting used to his own mouth and was surprised at no longer being able to speak.”

The colonel’s assessment was basically correct. Ro did not expect to find himself in that condition and something had changed about him (well, everything changed about him) that made it impossible to speak; maybe it was the shape of his throat or the size of tongue or something else, but could only work out basic grunts and yells. He tried every now and then, but it sounded garbled and strange and so he had made a habit of keeping quiet. There was nothing wrong with being a strong, silent type, anyway.

“And so, showing that he had at least had some sort of brain in his head, he scratched out his name into the sand: ‘Arro.’” This was the part of the colonel’s story that Ro had always had a problem with, as he had scratched out “RO” in capital letters, but had been immediately misinterpreted. At the time, he was groggy enough to agree to whatever the Colonel called him and regretted ever since. It wasn’t like he could correct him.

“Well, I knew my luck had just changed that very moment. I led him back to camp and you should’ve seen the way the folks around the fire responded! They were scared half to death, thinking I had somehow found a monster and was about to unleash it upon them. By the time I explained things and they saw he was in a relatively friendly mood, they let him sit right down and warm himself up. Well, as warm as a giant like himself could get from such a pathetic fire. Unfortunately, we had not yet acquired our team of tailors and armorers, and poor Arro had to settle for wearing one of our canvas tents as a toga. Some of the boys thought it was pretty funny. I think I still have some pictures somewhere.

“At any rate, it didn’t take long for Arro to pick up on our general situation. As much as I would’ve reminded him that we provided warmth and clothes for him, I didn’t. I knew that it wouldn’t be very kind of me (nor particularly wise) to force him into anything he didn’t want to do. So, humbly, I took off my hat, looked him right in the eyes and asked if he could come with us to help win the day at the compound of the fella who was hiring us to work security.”

“Wow, and he agreed on the spot?” Mako asked.

The colonel let out a big laugh. “No! He just shrugged! At the end of the day, I think he only joined us because he had nothing better to do!” That was only partially true.

Ro had no idea what was going on in the world that he awoke to. The Colonel was friendly enough, and Ro knew that the band of mercs would have a much better understanding of the world that he was in than he had. It was a direction, and Ro wasn’t in a position to pass that up. It wasn’t like he had any plans.

“Some of the invaders saw Arro and packed it up right there! As for the rest of them, well, Arro made quick work of the majority. That’s not to say we didn’t do our part, but Arro was something else, bringing down hell with that hammer of his.”

“I’ve been meaning to ask, why does he wield such a small weapon? Surely he could use his brute strength alone to defeat whoever came his way?”

“Young man, I would do your best to get a closer look at what he’s doing out on the battlefield there. You don’t take the favored scalpel away from a world-class surgeon. From day one, he knew exactly how to use that thing.” The Colonel was exaggerating (again), but Ro had become legitimately quite skilled with the Silver Star, being able to dispose of just about anyone with quick and precise work. Ro only wished he could’ve used it when it had counted.

“But it’s thanks entirely to Arro that our Red Band has flourished. Were it not for that decisive battle thirty-odd years ago, I doubt I’d be speaking to you at all, Mr. Mako. Not that I’m too bad of a commander, but let’s be frank: the man is a legend in his own right. Why, looking at him today, he seems timeless, looking exactly as pristine as he did all those years ago.”

“Do you know anything else about him?” Mako asked.

“Not a damn thing,” the Colonel replied. “We thought he might be some sort of beastman, but the physician we took him to told him he wasn’t like any he had seen. Sure, there are some theories that we’ve all come up with over the years, but we can’t prove a one. Personally, I think Arro was some sort of genetic experiment to create some sort of supersoldier, but no one has come forward to even try to claim this work as their own. Maybe if he could talk he could tell us, but as far as we know, Arro is one of a kind. It makes us all the luckier to be able to have him in our good graces.” Ro, of course, knew as much as anyone else and had basically given up to understanding the secret of his own existence.

“Wow,” Mako whispered under his breath. He turned around to marvel at Ro, who was sitting a noticeable distance from the campfire, facing away from everyone else.

Ro had heard the story about the birth of his own legend far too many times to count at this point, and thought there was an odd pride to it, he didn’t feel too much like in indulging that night. Besides, he had reasoned, it made him seem much more aloof and mysterious than he already was. Again, not being able to talk had already helped him much more than he could’ve asked for.

Mako couldn’t help staring at Ro, realizing what a legend he was in the presence of. Ro didn’t bother letting him on. Mako’s suddenly looked a little puzzled and slightly sad. “He seems lonely,” Mako whispered to himself. Mako was sure no one could hear him say that, but Ro’s ears were bigger than anyone else’s at the camp. Mako was right, of course.

Ro was well aware that he was one of a kind and while he cherished the company of The Red Band (The Colonel, especially), there was no changing his inherent alienation. While many a person had come through their group, the ones who didn’t die in battle had found something resembling love and had often moved away to the cities. Ro had encountered some flings here and there, but nothing permanent. Most men he encountered were more interested in the novelty of bedding a mythical giant, but when it came to anything past that, they had come up short. Ro had been feeling increasingly lonely throughout the years. Ro had become increasingly detached from humanity, and though he wouldn’t admit (on top of not being physically able to admit it), it had been gnawing at him for a long time now and perhaps the worst part was his inability to express any of it.

If it was just that he could no longer talk, that’d be one thing. Ro’s physical state made it impossible to use keyboards or stationary and he, nor anyone else in The Red Band, had bothered to learn any sort of sign language. They were more focused on getting paid more than anything else. The only thing he could do is write a bit in the sand, but there wasn’t nearly enough time nor space to get all of his thoughts out in a coherent and complete way. He had developed a good enough relationship with most of the Red Band that he didn’t really need too much in the way of words, but there were still places where it all fell short. The same couldn’t be said about the Colonel.

The Colonel had always understood Ro, despite never getting his name right. Ro had thought that maybe the Colonel had seen Ro as being his “responsibility” somehow, and he had spent a good amount of time getting to know Ro as well as he could. Ro didn’t even need to try and communicate, The Colonel could always tell what was on his mind. The Colonel even knows exactly how lonely I feel, I’m pretty sure of that. At the end of the day though, he was a leader and not a psychic, and there were things The Colonel just couldn’t provide.

At the end of the day, though he had frequently indulged in existential thought, Ro led a decent enough existence. It wasn’t what he wanted to be doing with his life, though he didn’t know what else he could be doing anyway. He was good at this and there was no harm in riding this train out as long as he could. At least he didn’t have to pay rent.