Beliefs

[Zerrif]

"Back again are ya?" The owner of the weapon and armor shop said. The vendors smiled at Gerik as he stepped in, out of breath as per the usual. Sure, he'd walk out of the church just to be reverent and respectful, but once he passed the last trees on that lane, he made a break for wherever he was going-- the armory always seemed to be a frequent stop.

The youngster just smiled back, catching his breath as he started to walk through the store. He always took his sweet time, admiring every weapon on every rack, sometimes feeling bold enough to take one and get a feel for it-- even if he never bought anything. Today felt different, though. He'd been mulling for the past couple of weeks now over what Father Bamph had said and... he couldn't contain himself any longer.

His hands fell to a simple blade, nothing ornate, or special about it. He gripped the handle, finding he could easily hold its weight with a single arm, and the vendor in charge of those weapon sets piped in. "Ah, you're looking at that one again, huh? No matter how many times people look at that particular sword, no one buys it. It's like it's been just waiting for you." The vendor cheerily said.

He had been eyeing this sword ever since he'd first seen it. And while he had been assured that the blade was no more than a Blade, that there were far easier to handle, or stronger weapons, he still set his eyes on that one over anything.

"Still cost the same?" Gerik asked, and the vendor nodded. If only he were a merchant-- a silver tongue might get him a better deal, or some sort of membership might allow him a couple discounts. Still, he made a mental note. Having earned such and such an amount each week at the church, paying a set amount per month over how many years now-- his face broke into a smile, and he brought the blade to the register.

"Finally walking out of here with it, huh? That'll be 2,900 zeny, please." The vendor said. The brunette casually drew his drawstring pouch on his belt, counting out various gold, platinum, and silver coins. The amount came to 2,900 easily, and he had much to spare. Given a sheath and a belt-tie for the sword, he quickly tied it on with the vendor's help.

"Look at that, starting to look like an adventurer already." The owner quipped, with a smirk. Gerik smiled back widely, moving over to the armor. Their respective merchant came over to him, and was about to give him a spiel on what kinds to get, to mind how heavy it was, the maneuverability, and other aspects of important armor shopping, when there was some sort of explosion outside.

Screams suddenly littered into the shop, and Gerik froze. The owner moved over to the door and stared out, before he started yelling at people to "Get in". People didn't speak for a little-- bodies from the street filing in quickly into the spacious shop.

"What's happening?" Gerik asked someone who huddled behind a rack near him. The man looked absolutely terrified, a mop of unrefined, grass-green hair on his head. Petrified blue eyes stared up, and he blinked a couple times, before his body finally found the will to speak.

"Th-the gang! Yellow and brown.. with a skull and crossed branches on their backs! Dropping Dead Branches... e-everywhere!" He shakily sputtered out. Gerik looked back out to the door, where the owner stood holding it open. Without warning, he dashed out of the shop, hearing the vendors and the owner shouting at him to get back inside.

The streets were little more than chaos. Sure enough, people were screaming and running about, and monsters had begun to litter the streets of Prontera. Figures dressed in a tan-like yellow and dark brown stood calmly in the streets, throwing around branches. Each branch would glow slightly, before it's position had been overtaken by a monster, some more fearful than others.

His hands shook, and he felt his knees quake. It was just like before... just like--

"Step aside." Someone said to him, before shoving him to his left. He was caught by a pair of comforting hands, looking up to see a Priest smiling down at him.

"No worries, we'll handle this. Young ones like yourself need to be somewhere safe, okay?" The priest said, before he stood up. He held in his hands three small coloured gemstones, and each one began to glow it's own hue, before the ground did as well. He stared as a small, square area around him was formed. "Just stay in here. You'll be safe." The priest said, before he stepped out himself.

The one who had shoved him aside, grumbled, fidgeting with a cart. A merchant of sorts? The priest just smiled, and nudged the cart a little. "It's still a little light. Got any junk?" The merchant asked, to which the priest only shrugged his shoulders, and clambered into the cart. The merchant tested the cart by pulling on the handles, and smirking. "That works. You better hang on tight, now."

Before Gerik could warn them, a branch dropped right beside them, one of the assaulting members having stared, and aimed. It broke and started forming a twisting mass, looking like some sort of hollowed trunk, with thorned vines sticking out of it. A naked, and yet eerily beautiful girl was wrapped in the vines, and Gerik thought she had been trapped-- though it soon revealed that her legs faded into a green, forming the vines themselves.

The merchant just hunched down, and began to whirl the cart around him, the priest hanging on as if he'd done this a million times before. "Caaart..." Came the merchant's voice, booming and oddly resonant over all the chaos. "REVOLUTION!" He finished with a final warcry, heaving the cart over his head, slamming it down onto the monster with exhilarating force. No wonder he wanted that to be as heavy as possible. It came crushing down through the monster, the sound of wood breaking as the girl in the vines let loose some hideous scream.

The priest hopped out of the cart, and whilst mid-air, clapped his hands together in prayer. Mumbling a few sacred words, his body began to glow a slight white, and he opened his palms towards the now hurt creature. "Holy Light!" He shouted, before a blazing white crucifix shot forth from his hands, and began to burn into the creature. That scream pierced the air even more, and the thorns started to slip off the girl, her vague body only seen for a slight second, before she just disintegrated into nothingness.

The sight that Gerik had just seen was no less than amazing, at least to him. This wasn't like before. There was hope. It wasn't a one sided fight, terrorizing the defenceless. That's when he remembered the sword on his belt. He stood up, and stepped out of the protective aura, much to the priest's dismay, and the merchant's anger.

"Please." He mumbled, cutting off their protests. "I want to help."