Knife-wielding Penpals: Nahal and Chloe
Letter #5 - Leapcut
--
25 August 1988
Dear Chloe,
It is such a sweet name you have there. Our mystic has said it means "green shoot", which I believe is such an appropriate name given your upbringing.
I apologize for you writing so late. The monsoons, oddly enough, cause more damaged than the war itself. There were idle times when I lay in my tree-hut wishing that I could go out and carry out my duties as protector of the sacred words of Saruon. It may seem sadistic, but I tire of my husband and my concubines.
I mentioned to you that I was married to young boy named Haré. Well, our "marriage" so to speak was a trial run in a tradition that was brought over from India. Haré often remains in his mother's hut to play Nintendo and clean house. Initially, I reprimanded him from doing so, but when I visited his home I could not blame him from coming back.
His mother, to my dismay, was a spoiled, bratty, and flirtatious drunkard. Her only redeeming feature was her youth and beauty, and I assume her to be a woman in her mid to early twenties. She along with her son is tanned like the others (not me of course--I'm a partial albino so to speak), but something about them feel as if they did not come from here or from any non-Western country. Haré's mother often spoke of a sea of these "sky scrapers" and a group of unbeatable warriors called the Yankees.
Haré eventually stopped living at my tree hut, and the marriage with him was annulled. Quill and Lulu officially became my wives, although I was confused on how two pre-pubescent girls could officially be married to me.
"You have the mark of the Lily Rose," the Mystic spoke to me in her soothing and creepy voice. "Because you face so much danger, you cannot be tied to the likes of a husband and children."
That still doesn't explain why I'm married to two girls slightly younger than me. Oh well, at least they clean my house and cook dinner, unlike Haré who just plays on this "Game & Watch" he keeps playing when I'm trying to sleep.
Afterwards, the Mystic have foretold that the foreign knife-maker you wrote to me about will be coming "garbed in mud and semen." Such a vision horrified me at first, but when Leapcut Montana appeared, it turns out to be an exhausted woman covered in the mud of war and coconut juice. "My mistake," smiled the Mystic when we all greeted our visitor. Then she trotted of humming quite happily.
We may be a poor village, but we are all well fed enough to stay alive for quite some time. Unfortunately, we are also a greedy bunch when it comes to the appearance of foreign visitors, especially those from the "white" nations. When we get word of someone coming from there, we would purposely starve ourselves and get sick, and a few of us have even resorted stepping just to blow up their leg. The last bit didn't happen, fortunately. We would also steal guns from the Royal army and the Galza rebels and riddle our huts with bullets, and "borrow" a tank to ruin our own fields. We do all this in order to con the white visitor most of their traveling money with the horrors of war. I have to admit though, it works quite often and it is one of the major sources of our money.
Leapcut's dirtied appearance did not sway us from putting up a show. We did our best to treat her like a first-class client by letting her stay in the Mystic's hut and giving her clean clothes. Already the children are outside peeking through windows watching undress and dress.
Leapcut had dark auburn, and she reminded me of the Italian women I had to assassinate on occasion. She came carrying a thick suitcase protected by a four-digit lock.
In the Mystic's hut, we treated her to tea. The Mystic then gave her "The Reading" in that she peers into the past, present, and future of the individual before her.
"I can clearly see that this but an incarnation of your former self brought back from the great beyond," she began. "You were once a ordinary girl ruthlessly experimented upon, and was given a chance to become a deity to fight in a cosmic war. Now that war is over, and you are here in the midst of a more materialistic war."
Leapcut spoke, "Thank you, um..."
"You can call me Quanzitta."
"Quanzitta. I thank you for your hospitality..."
Leapcut was then distracted by the children pretending to be hungry by making growling sounds with their mouths and the dogs they kicked in intervals.
"But I must be going. It doesn't seem to be the village where an assassin named 'The Village Girl' would be."
Quanzitta smiled. "You are here."
"Well then, shall we get started?"
Leapcut doesn't make knives, as I have discovered. Rather, she is salesman of the type of knives of worthy quality made from what she had told me a higher power. The selection she brought with her was limited, but since each one was impressive it was hard for me to choose.
She recognized the name of Chloe when I brought up, and she will not reveal if she had dealt with her or the knife she had personally selected.
"Each knife has a soul," Leapcut said, "and it is said it chooses it user. The only way we can know of sure if we test it out."
We are at a perfect place to do so. Leapcut and I went out into the forest hunting for random soldiers to test the knife out in utmost discreetness. With the suitcase open, I reached out for the one with a crescent guard.
"Not that one," said Leapcut. "That's actually a mystical letter opener that can transform into a sword at will."
I think she was right. It was emitting green sparks of light called 'Souma' that was creeping me out.
I tried using the Kiryuu Dagger. The opponent I felled yelled out his sister's name in dying ecstasy. That also made me feel creepy.
I then used the Red Mask Kris knife. The man I killed cried out, "Jason Todd lives!"
I used the Tanto of the Lunar Priestess. It worked well as it killed a green-haired man before he could scream. However, my hand felt sad when I used it, and I reluctantly handed it back to Leapcut.
I also used the Dagger of Dio Brando. I tossed it to a opponent at a distance, but it just stopped in the middle as if frozen at time.
"Damn," said Leapcut. "It always does that during a demonstration. I usually just wait a day or so to pick it up."
So we left that dagger frozen in midair.
I tried many other daggers, including a set that was supposedly wielded by a clone who was orphaned once more when two evil cosplayers, a man in a cat mask and a girl in a jester outfit, burned down her foster home. At last, I found the dagger of my choice, the Dagger of the Blue Moon.
"That is a special one," said Leapcut, "it is said that the one who wields it is destined to meet up with the one wielding the Dagger of the Red Moon and live happily ever after. However, if you run into the one wielding the Dagger of the Black Moon, only tragedy awaits you."
"Have you sold those two daggers might I ask?"
Leapcut didn't answer, and I have to respect her vow of confidentiality as a saleswoman.
The more I used the Dagger of the Blue Moon, the more excited I became as I killed more and more soldier at each random encounter. The weight felt like a feather, yet sturdy as earth. The handle was smooth yet I could grip it so firmly. It had a perfect crescent curve like that of a waning gibbous. I have chosen my dagger and it chose me.
(I wonder if it could meat though? I know I shouldn't ask Leapcut as she looked as if she was ready spaz out when I held the Dagger of the Blue moon over an ox carcass disguised to look like a human carcass. I wonder if she sells butcher knives?)
The dagger did not come cheap, for it was an exorbitant price of exactly two million dollars. Our village barely managed to scrounge up two hundred fifty thousand for the down payment.
I was unsure how I could pay her full when my fellow villagers were just beginning to con her. Already she spent the down payment for a girl who supposedly had chickenpox, but it turned out that she used a black marker for the spots. She also gave money to a rice farmer because she thought he could grow no more rice in a flooded field, and spent a generous amount of money and a man with no legs when it was clear he was using a blanket to cover them. I have known some gullible travelers, but this woman just takes the cake! In just four hours she literally gave back our down payment!
"Oh, the maker is not going to like this," she lamented. "I collect the payments in the next month or so."
No one wanted her to leave. The villages were gathering before her in clear view in the methods to con her of every penny she might have.
"Maybe we shouldn't," I protested. "I mean, she was nice enough to 'give' me this one."
They did not listen. Little by little they continued to con her, and she spent her last penny--literally--on a boy who hid his arm underneath his shirt. I feel so sorry for her in more ways than one.
Penniless, the woman bade us farewell and made off wearing nothing but the sexy rags she accepted from us and with her suitcase in hand. She came back the next day missing her suitcase, but that was the least of her worries. She was lost.
I was ordered to escort her through the forest, because you know, there's a war going on. I made it as far to the capital and left her there. Twelve hours later, she came back saying that she was lost again.
Again, I escorted her, and this time I took her directly to the airport--on foot. God, I wish I had some shoes. My feet are killing me! I returned home--on foot--where I snuggled with my two wives until I awoke one lazy afternoon that Leapcut had come back saying that she is lost again. I protested against my duty as her escort, but the Mystic, being her weird self as usual, threatened me with a secret she would tell if I didn't.
I was getting annoyed. This time, I escorted Leapcut into the airport, bought her a one-way ticket to her destination, pushed her onto the plane and buckled her seatbelts. I slowly walk backward hoping that she would not wander out of the plane in a daze. I even waited until the plant was in the air far away from my view before I returned home. Never before did I miss the snuggling of my two wives.
Then it happened again. She was back, and even the townspeople were annoyed that she did. I wished she would realize that she was conned by us so she could leave us alone. But no! She had to nerve that to announce she was staying.
"Well, our Protector is without a husband since Haré has moved back with his mother," said the Mystic, "and it wouldn't hurt of you roomed with her as her new husband."
"Hold on," I cried. "You know I am only just six years--"
"I'm now her husband?" cried Leapcut. "I'm so happy!"
So now I have two prepubescent, and a husband who is old enough to be my mother--maybe even my grandmother. First we were happy to receive a white and foreign visitor for the sole purpose of fleecing her, and now were so horribly annoyed of her freeloading off of us and constantly panicking at things she is so gullible to.
Yet she did not worry of her lost wares or her return to her employer and her home. I sometimes wonder if she is a one-time dealer and had her memories erased. Is it this the power of the sacred books? Or was she really spy with clever acting skills? And I wonder who is conning whom. I must keep an eye on her. She does, however, make good pasta.
At least some good things came out of this. I got my dagger who is now my partner, and as it so happens Leapcut had on you a letter you wrote to me almost a month ago. I shall read and hope that it will distract me from the problems in the past.
The monsoon season isn't over yet. You may expect another late letter later.
Love,
Nahal
P.S. - I have mentioned that the mystic is helping me write this, and it may seem that this letter is an exaggeration. It is not. Something weird is going on in our world...
P.P.S. - Come to think of it, how the heck did Haré and his mother get electricity into their house when I don't? It just doesn't make sense!
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