“Half-Bloodied Friendship”~~Bladesman, Story One

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I was never very good at making friends. I mean, I can’t say that I wasn’t good at it–I just can’t say that I had many of them. You know how it is–you move around a lot, especially in my line of work. I never get a chance to grow close to anyone around me. Unfortunately for everyone else, you also have a tendency for your friends to randomly die off.

Sometimes I wish I wasn’t a killer-for-hire–or, if you want to get all technical about it, a Bladesman.

It gets so hard to get close to people when you know that, at any point, you could be called upon to kill them.

Take right now, for instance. I’m sitting here, leaning down and looking at Amadeus. He’s frowning, probably because he can’t really stop the bleeding. He’s trying to gasp out words, probably trying to ask why I was killing him.

I just wish I could explain to him that I didn’t WANT to kill him, that I was only hired to do it for about six hundred grenders (which would be just about enough to buy some new chairs for my new cabin, and I REALLY wanted some new chairs)–but, no. Dying people are boring to talk to, even if I’ve been invited over to his house repeatedly.

In fact, I’d come over to play some cards with him–but, when he won, I of course had to kill him.

ForĀ otherĀ reasons then my wounded pride, of course.

I had, after all, had to pay him the thirty grenders’ bet we’d made before the game.

I never should have gambled with him.

I look down at Amadeus as he breathes his last, shrugging to myself. It was time to go on my way.

I couldn’t figure out where he’d put the money I’d given him, though.

Well, no matter. I’ll go down to town tomorrow, and collect the money I got from killing Amadeus. Even with the thirty-grender loss, I’d still get the chairs I wanted.

And maybe, just maybe, I’ll go out and make some new friends?

It’d be nice to not be lonely, for once.

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