Battle Hymn of the Republic

A young man walked down the side walk of a busy Osakan neighborhood. He looked very out of place. Standing almost a full head taller than the people around him, wearing his long brown hair tied in a ponytail behind him, and wearing a slick pair of reflective sunglasses, Ruarc Flynn made his way towards some unknown destination. He was hunched over slightly with his hands shoved into the pockets of his blue jeans; bobbing forward every-so-often as the pack he carried on his back bounced around. All the while a pure white dove sat perched atop his head.

“Ugh, Laoise, cén fáth go bhfuil muid i gcathair? I gcás ina ifreann Tá mé ag dul a runes fháil anseo?” Ruarc said suddenly as he jerked his head upwards, causing the white bird to start hovering just above his head. The people around his stared as if he were crazy and the people closest to him sped away. Ruarc looked up at the bird which lowered itself down onto his forehead and gave a sharp peck to the tip of his nose. Ruarc shook his head to throw the bird off, but moments later the bird was back so he started walking again.

“You know I do not like big cities, Laois. I do not know even when I'm getting much less where I'm going to sleep tonight. I guess I can always stay in the park again,” Ruarc began to drone on in his native language with no worries of who might hear him. He was willing to bet nobody in the area knew his Irish dialect. He was pulled from his ranting by another sharp peck. “Ouch! What was that…” he started to say, but then he felt Laoise’s intentions. “This shop? There are runes here?”

Ruarc quickly made his way into the small shop to look around. Five minutes passed by before he reemerged, only now his had a handful of birdseed in the palm of his hand while Laoise nibbled happily at the seeds. “That was a pet store. Yes, I know that we are looking for whoever is misusing runes on animals, but I don’t think it was that old lady. You are lucky I don’t cook you and eat you myself. I could probably sell you to one of these Japanese people. What’s that? I need you? YOU need ME! Without me you wouldn’t be eating grade A bird feed. Yeah I know you wouldn’t die if I tried to eat you. I would manage something.” People continued staring as Ruarc argued outright with the bird perched on his wrist.

“I’m going to go find the park, I need to rest up. Afterwards we will see about visiting one of those shrine things,” he said in his usual calm manner to Laoise. With that, he paused to quickly ask another pedestrian where the nearest park was, after a few moments of trying to remember what little Japanese he did know he pushed on through the crowd towards the park.
As he came within a mile of the park Ruarc noticed Laoise start to fidget, and a few moments later he too felt a tingling sensation behind his right eye. “That was magic, right? It came from the direction of the park, but it didn’t feel like runes. Yes I know what rune energy feels like. Laoise! I am not getting into this with you. It is a stupid argument. Now come on, best hurry to make sure,” Ruarc said to Laoise. He pulled a small square piece of burlap cloth out of his pocket and wrapped the remaining seeds and put them into his pocket. With Laoise flying overhead, Ruarc began to jog the remaining distance.

It was a couple minutes later when Ruarc finally caught sight of the park, and he did his best to sprint the rest of the way. As he stepped out onto the grass he hunched over and put his hands on his knees as he tried to catch his breath. “Shut…up….Laoise,” he said between breaths. “I am not…out of shape.” He pulled himself together and stood up straight as he looked out across the park. He couldn’t see the whole thing due to trees and hills, and now neither he nor Laoise felt anything.

Ruarc bit his lower lip in frustration. “Lost ‘em. What? My fault?! How is this my fault?! You were the one stuffing your face! If I hadn’t had to take time out to buy you bird feed I would have been here already,” he once again started arguing with the dove perched on his shoulder.

With no new leads Ruarc took time to leisurely stroll through the park. The young man had no idea where to look as the trail had run cold a while ago. He had since sent Laoise off to see if a bird’s eye view could see anything. After about a half hour of searching the park Ruarc called Laoise back and sat down next to a tall tree.
The young Irishman closed his eyes and took several deep breaths as he built a connection to the nature around him. In no time the tension and unrest he had felt in the crowded neighborhoods had dissipated, and he once again felt at peace. Laoise fluttered down and perched on the tip of Ruarc’s outstretched foot.
“Alright Laoise, here you go,” Ruarc said quietly in Irish as he pulled out the burlap-wrapped pile of seeds. He unfolded the cloth and set it down next to him on the ground, and the dove hopped along his leg and over to the feed.
The lone foreigner watched as the pure white bird began pecking happily at the pile of seeds, and after a while he reached down with his left index finger and stroked the tiny bird’s feathers along its spine. The bird cooed softly and scrunched its head under one of its wings to show gratitude.
Ruarc pulled his hand back after a few minutes and reached into his pack. He pulled out a large, leather-bound book which was as big as a small TV. The book measured nineteen inches up the spine, thirteen inches in width, almost six inches thick, and weighed just less than twenty pounds. The edges and spine of the book were gilded with segmented iron, bronze, and nickel plates. Another iron plate run across the center of the front cover, and cast into the iron was a variety of rune markings.
The book sat on Ruarc’s lap as he felt the weight. He felt the history of his people bear down on him the same way the book sat heavily upon his lap. After a sufficient amount of time passed, Ruarc grabbed the edge of the book and pulled it open to a page about a fifth of the way through the book. The page was old and worn, and it bore a vast amount of runes scribbled onto the page. Each passage was written in a different handwriting and using different dialects than the others before and after.
As young Ruarc began reading the runes he began to feel less alone than he had before. He could feel Laoise’s small body nest in the grass next to his leg, he could almost feel the tree which he was leaning against bend in his direction as if to read along in the book, and he could feel the spirits of the Keepers who came before greet him as he read the history of his culture. He reveled in the feeling as he drew closer to the natural world around him, and then he set to work deciphering the ancient runes

Hours passed by in what felt like minutes while Ruarc became lost in the heavy book. He was snapped back to the real world when it became too dark to make out the runes. He had read a page and a half. “Pretty good for going at it just a couple of hours,” Ruarc said proudly as he glanced over to Laoise, who was now sound asleep in a makeshift nest made of grass and the burlap cloth.
Ruarc set the book back in his pack and stood up slowly so as to not disturb her, walked a few paces away from the tree and stretched his arms and legs. “It sure got dark fast,” he mumbled absently to himself. A moment later he realized he still had his prescription sunglasses on. After a quick facepalm he walked over to his pack and pulled out the case for his glasses and put the sunglasses away while switching out his regular reading glasses. With his eyes no longer obstructed and observer could see even in the dimming light of late afternoon not just his heterochromic brown and green eyes, but also the rune set onto his green right eye. “I hate twilight. Too dark for sunglasses but too bright to keep my eye hidden,” he growled slightly. Then he heard another growling, only this time from his stomach. Ruarc realized now that he had not eaten all day, so he reached back into his pack and pulled out a wrapped pile of salted beef and a canteen of water.
His meal was quick and he was content after a few slices of meat. Ruarc looked back up at the sky after putting away the leftovers to watch as the moon began rising and the stars began to show. “Moon dance with the Sun pleasantly,” he chanted quickly to the rising moon, as was customary for a Keeper to do when he witnesses the changing from night to day. “I wonder what everyone back home is up too. It is daytime there right now isn’t it?”
With another exaggerated stretch and a sigh, Ruarc took a deep breath of the evening air. It almost made him feel sad, even though he was surrounded by trees and grass the smell of the city was still perverse; tainting the air of the park. Looking out across the darkening park, he listened as the sound of crickets began to dominate the night air; up until he once again heard growling again.
“But I just ate, I’m not hungry,” Ruarc thought to himself. A few moments passed until he realized that the growling was coming from behind him rather than from his stomach. He turned around slowly and peered into the growing darkness. Out from the shadows of the trees emerged a large dog. Ruarc froze where he was as the dog took an aggressive stance and continued to growl at him. “Easy boy, I’m not going to hurt you,” Ruarc said in a soothing tone as he glanced towards his pack over by the tree. He made a move to try and get his pack, but the dog lunged forward and cut him off.
It was now that Ruarc’s right eye began to act up. Now when he looked at the dog his right eye saw a red haze hanging around the dog. “Well, damn, all of my purification runes are in the pack,” Ruarc thought to himself as he tried to think of how to proceed. His hand was forced however when the dog suddenly lunged and rushed at him.
Ruarc reacted and ducked off to the side as the dog overshot him. Before he could move any farther the dog was rushing at him again. He frantically searched his pockets for something of use, and his hand settled on a smooth disc. He pulled out a rune stone that read “fire” and “wind” as the dog leapt at him. The next few moments felt like ages as Ruarc shoved the rune out in front of him and cast the spell. The rune lit up like a small sun and unleashed a wave of hot air; while not hot enough to cause serious damage, it was enough to cause anything caught in the way to flinch back.
The dog tried to pull back but its momentum carried it right into Ruarc’s right shoulder. Both Ruarc and the dog tumbled away, and both scrambled to get to their feet. The Irishman rushed over to his pack and quickly dug through it to find the right rune. “Where is it!?” Ruarc cried as he heard the dog get back up and start running at his back.
At last he found the rune and ripped it out of the pack and faced the dog which was almost on top of him. He thrust out his hand and slammed the rune into the dog’s chest. Once more a small sun lit up in Ruarc’s hand as he cast his magic, and once again the dog barreled straight into his torso.
“Damn, that hurt,” Ruarc groaned as he sat up. “Well at least my throat is still intact.” He looked over at the dog that was now lying unconscious a few feet away. The red haze was gone.
Ruarc reached up to wipe away some dirt, but when he pulled his hand away there was blood. “Guess you landed a hit as well,” he said to the sleeping dog. Turning back to his pack he pulled out some first aid supplies and cleaned and bandaged the cut on his cheek.
“Whoever the bastard who is misusing runes is, I will make him wish he were already dead,” Ruarc mumbled to himself as he settled back against the tree. “And thanks for the help, Laoise,” he said as he looked up at the dove perched on a tree branch. “Yeah, I did handle it; no thanks to you anyway.”
The dove then fluttered down and landed in Ruarc’s lap, but Ruarc had already fallen asleep.