Dressed rightly, Amadan was a fine young man that towered over Aria. His hawk-like eyes and somehow domineering stature made her wonder if this man who muttered a strange language could be trusted. Still, he showed nothing but gratefulness, and he showed it through his actions.

The House she lived was a two-storied house made of stone and rock, inherited from her parents. She became a Song Maiden and wields the white lance of the lady that resides in the lake. She had been singing her songs and dancing her stances. She was a Song Maiden - but many call her a Battle, and sometimes a War Maiden. Still, she hated those titles, she was a Song Maiden, and she will restrain herself from being. That was her choice the moment she took the white lance from the lady that resides in the lake.

Amadan lounged on the table with the writings that she had given him. The world was a kind one and those who can be allowed to learn from scrolls to forcibly learned through the scrolls, he had enough intellect to make sense of the wording and how the language was spoken and written. She had done something reckless. Still, he managed and was still working to prove that he was grateful.

“Aria,” he said. “I’ve been studying - thanks to you. Ah, do you want me to cook something for you? Split some logs? Might as well use me since I am leeching of your graces.”

He was blunt and did not hide his intentions. He was trying to be useful and Holy, he knew how to be useful. He could cook well and work hard. She had never eaten so well that it shamed her that he was too good at it. She knew how, but comparing his strange recipes to her was laughable.

“It’s fine,” Aria said. “Anyway, are you truly fine? I saw you practicing the sword. I thought you didn’t know the sword?”

He laughed. “I think I have a talent for it. Somehow, I just know, and that there is a strange power inside of me. Can you see it, Aria?”

She beamed at him. “Your bones are strange in a way that when I felt them. There were an extra layer and more than I think. I would have to open you to know.”

He twisted on the chair. “Please don’t, I rather not be skinned alive, Aria.”

“But we won’t know until then. But, if you wish so, then let it be so. Still, have you planned on what you are going to do, Amadan?”

Amadan stared. He walked next to Aria and kneeled on one knee. “Aria, if it means anything, let me work for you, let me repay you for what you have done to me. It may be small to you. It may be insignificant, but know that you have saved my life and I’ve no way to offer anything other than my services.”

“Are you a Knight?”

“I am not. But if I don’t repay you, then I don’t know what to do.”

“You aren’t a child.”

“But I am a lost one. Please,” he placed his forehead on the floor. “Let me work under you. I know you don’t need me. I am useless to the bone, but let me repay you with the life you saved.”

“I do not need a Guardian,” she said. Amadan’s eyes sunk. “But you are making it difficult to refuse you. Tell me, are you not doing this for other reasons?”

“I would be lying if I said so. But I know that I am not worthy and I’d rather stab myself in the throat than do anything to you. Not that I’d ever win.”

She liked honest men. No, he was far too afraid to lose the connection that he made with people. She wondered what have had happened to him. What took him this far in the area? These new lands were far from civilization and yet this man had reached this nameless town. No one dared to name the lands this far from civilization. Unless they were the Adventurer King who had taken a grand city. His rise to power was swift and fast.

“I am still not convinced.”

He bit his lower lip. She saw the face of a man who thinks he was doom. “I have no words to say. If you don’t truly accept my services then I shall see what fate awaits me. “

“You give up easily.”

He stared. “I could leave life right now. I let that determine what I do, say, and think.”

She was baffled by his words. It seems that he was a man that accepts what would be passed to him. She let out a smile. “That’s a curious mindset. Still, you can do better to convince me.”

“You could never change anyone’s mind. I see that you are set to refuse, and this is a gamble itself. Instead of worrying about the goal itself, I am doing my best to plea for you accept me into your service.”

“And this is your best plea?”

“I’m afraid that it is.”

“First, you temp me with your food, then show yourself as a good man who can do work. Honestly, this house is too big, and if this was your plan, you have succeeded, Amadan, your food is quite tasty, and it would be a shame to throw away a man who can cook well. Not to mention, this should keep all the nosy ones away from. Fine, you are to become my Guardian, and you will be my shield and my servant. Is that acceptable?”

“Yes!” He slammed his head on the floor.

“Stand, you are not in my service, I am Aria, the Song Maiden, Holder of the White Lance, and you now serve me, Amadan.”

“Thank you, Miss Aria.”

“Call me Aria,” she said, leaning on her chair. “But if we are to meet others. I expect you to call me Miss or Lady. Is that understood, Amadan?”

“Yes, I understand.”

“Good, and now please cook one of those dishes for me. I am starving. Oh, it’s raining again.”

She looked outside.

***

News of Aria accepting the same madman shook this unknown town. Those who were besotted by her came, swords rushing, they trapped Amadan on a corner, and he wore no weapon. Shamelessly, they attacked the madman, expecting him to die as easily - the tradition was to kill those who were maddened.

Amadan’s eyes beamed red. His hawk-like eyes frightened the men. He swooped, in and tossed them around, throwing them by leveraging their momentum or through tripping them and letting gravity most of his word. A cudgel passed by him and yet he blocked it with his forearm, and the man who did it was thrown harder than anyone. Amadan who was the target resumed to whatever duties he was doing.

Many wondered what was up with the Madman. Sauntering to the Song Maiden, they asked her. She replied, “He is my Guardian, Cook, and wood-splitter, and a servant. So let that settle in your minds.”

That was all they needed. Amadan was seized now and then and was thrown to the underground fighting clubs. Men who go on adventurers brawled with the young man and surprisingly, he had won and sometimes he would lose. Still, he was a hard young man and without the grime and the mud on him. He was a fine young man who was strange even to this world. They had seen many different adventurers that came from a different nation. But a man whose raven-like hair, pale appearance, and tall stature made for news. Maidens who were curious would surround the young man. Though he was flat-eyed, and barely had time to talk them. He was calm, polite, and toneless.

When the Song Maiden performed her white lance dance. She was surrounded and asked of her relations with the young man. She gave them a flat-eyed stare and a cold voice. “He is a companion and a good one. Please, do not test me, or would you like to hear my song of fleas?”

They shuddered. Everyone stopped talking about Amadan and turned their attention to new rumors. Aria was pleased by their change and she went with her business as usual. She would dance with her white lance, sing her songs, and travel to the inner forest to battle dire beasts who came close to the town. When she was done, she would return, her bloody white lance cleansed in front of her doors. Amadan fetched her a bucket of water and she thought that having a servant was indeed fine.

He started splitting the logs needed for wood. She glanced at her and thought how fine his back was. Foolish! She thought. How could I let myself be attracted?”

She felt something odd. There was a strange force that was crawling in her heart. She dispersed it as if it was nothing. That crawling hand that seems to grasp her hand and charm her. She hated it. She despised it. She had accepted this role out of love for dance and song!

She glared at that invisible force. I WILL NOT STAND BY THIS CAPTURING. YOU WILL NOT HAVE MY HEART. YOU SHALL NOT HAVE IT!

The Invisible force vanished. She held on to her soul. She didn’t know but she smiled. That invisible force was gone and yet she felt weak. “Aria!” A voice shouted. She was caught. She looked at Amadan and smiled. “I was feeling feeble, but do not worry, I am free.”

“Free?”

“Nothing, just a faint aching in my head.” And in my heart, she thought.

She smiled, clamping her jaws. Then it came to her, it was a memory of a woman who walked through the valleys of death, a woman who cried, and a woman stabbed a sword on her stomach with grief. Ah, she thought. Then, she turned her attention to the invisible force that was one tried to charm her. Never again, she glared. Hatred, rage, and absolute fury came to Aria. How could you do this to me?

“Aria?”

She meekly turned her eyes away and straightened her expression. “Can you help me stand?”

Amadan pushed her up. She stood, patted her skirt, and looked at him. She spoke his name. But her words came blank and noises that She spoke again. “Amadan.”

“Yes?”

She spoke. The words didn’t come out of her mouth.

“Miss?”

“Amadan,” she said, biting her lip. “You are troublesome, but I can’t deny this is a new cycle.”

“I don’t get it, Aria.”

“Really,” she puts her hands on her waist. “Why do I have to do this?” She then looked at him, eyes so close. Amadan was tilting his head. He was ignorant. He was wiped clean of anything. And here I am, only that memory, that memory of that horrible meeting, Aria thought.

“Can you buy something for me, Amadan?”

“Of course,” he took her gold. “Food? I’ll be out then.”

She saw him walked away. She grimaced and spun her white lance. “Hmm, I prefer a sword, but it looks like I’m just another fragment. I am free now. Still,” she turned her attention to the direction where Amadan came.

A second chance, she thought. To think that there would still be mercy. I know it, I was right to deny the memories of the War Maidens, and I know that it was dangerous, and they did not listen. I am thankful for this chance, and I will not fail again.

“I am the master of my faith, and I am the Captain of my soul. Isn’t that you always say? To have power over your mind and not of outside events.”

She closed her eyes. She pressed her forehead on the white lance. She didn’t know why they had met this early. Why after sticking that blade inside her stomach and dying in front of his grave that he would wake up in a new body with fresh memories. But she knew that disgusting stench. That promise of power from memories of war-mongering women. She hated it. Her fury rose, but then she saw Amadan walking with the food he bought. Her fury simmered, and cooled.

“I’ll be coming for you, Burned Woman. You will not dirty my name any longer.”