Frail is humanity in such a desolate profession. To survive, those who walk the path of a mercenary will naturally come together, forming loose bands of mercenaries.
Though the Eremites are many, few among them will be remembered as legends, with most bound to be as evanescent as sand in the wind. Yet there are exceptions who, like Dehya, may linger in the annals of history.
The “Flame-Mane” Dehya is fierce and brave, the lion her moniker invokes an analogy for her might. The nickname itself, meanwhile, denotes her passionate nature.
Should you be planning to hire a mercenary to serve as a bodyguard, Dehya stands as a prime choice. Procuring her service runs an expensive premium, but her abilities make that a worthy expenditure indeed.
Compared to those overconfident fools hawking their talents as hired blades on the street and novices capable of little more than brute force, Dehya is a conscientious professional. With all this said, those who wish to procure her services should make haste, for there is a long line of other potential clients that have need of the Flame-Mane, and the opportunity, just as grains in the desert, will slip away before long.
As Dehya’s reputation gradually grew amongst the Eremites, those of her band grew proud of the fame she was earning and, during a day when everyone happened to be present, the rowdiest of her companions stated their desire to grant her a nickname worth remembering. Everyone agreed that they would announce Dehya with the new nickname whenever she won future battles, so it needed to be something spectacular — capable of spreading goosebumps through people like a skin-raising plague.
The youngest members gave their all trying to come up with something. They chittered and clamored, trying to give Dehya a vicious moniker capable of instilling debilitating terror in potential clients, usually beginning with “bloody” or “terror.” Dehya was not such an amateur as to think that a title alone might encapsulate the entirety of what others felt about her. But still, as if everyone wanted to kill some time on this matter, she didn’t mind.
As she listened to bad suggestion after terrible suggestion, she couldn’t help but guffaw with laughter. The atmosphere reminded her of moments from her childhood when her father gathered his compatriots to put on plays for her, detailing chivalrous heroes defending the helpless or messy brawls between siblings to amuse everyone. There was no specific point to it, except to bring some cheer while surviving in the vast emptiness under the desert’s midnight sky.
And just as the chatting was starting to put her in a good mood, that old ne’er-do-well’s shadow slid back into her mind. Though admittedly disgruntled, Dehya did her best to keep the curl of her lips imperceptible.
That night, Dehya rejected several laughable names, such as the “Sovereign of the Sands” and “The Crimson Edge.” She thought it was time to let the farce come to a close. It was just a name after all, and true mercenaries did not let such things affect their business much. Just then, an aged mercenary interrupted the discussion. At first, he snorted disdainfully at the stupidity of those around him. Then, he asked a question: “The Legend of the Lion. This story ring a bell for anyone?”
This tale was, naturally, one Dehya was familiar with. During her childhood, her father had told her lots of old stories — far too many, really. She had wanted to forget everything that had to do with him, but memories are not so easily consigned to oblivion. While she was lost in the twists and turns of her past, her companions decided upon a title for her that actually sounded quite alright: “Flame-Mane.”
And though she loathed the man The Legend of the Lion reminded her of, she found herself halted just before she could reject the name. Was it not all too petty to refuse such goodwill on that account?
Must she avoid all the things related to her father, just because she wanted to forget him? Of course not. Besides, the story had brought a genuine feeling of warmth and comfort to Dehya, allowing her to face the world with open eyes, experience all it had to offer — and those experiences had not been falsehoods.
So why not take up the title of “Flame-Mane?” She could have done far worse
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