"GOOD. LORD."
Ethel grunts out while kneeling on the floor of Thorpe's cabin. Most of her armor has been removed and her body is drenched in sweat. Her every breath is labored. "That time—was way worse." She wheezes and stares daggers up at Thorpe, who is standing above her holding the newest bottle of healer's draught to be opened.
The old man looks apologetically at the [Knight] while handing her a towel. "Yeah. Internal bleeding is a pretty gnarly one. You actually held up pretty well. I cry every time." He admits, giving a glance towards Arric over by the kitchen counter. The [Ranger] having helped himself to a bottle of ale Thorpe offered after we got inside.
As for me. I'm just watching them from the safety of Thorpe's bedroom. Curled up on his bed as far from them as I can be. Calmer than I was before, but feeling just as pathetic as I must look.
Just how stupid am I? To let myself overreact and panic like that. I even hurt someone in the process!
How very heroic of me…
Ser Ethel raises herself up to a stand, taking the offered towel from Old Guard. The [Knight] taking a few more steady breaths. "I can get you the cost of that swig once I get back to my supplies."
Thorpe huffs and shakes his head while stowing the bottle back inside its secure chest on his new dining table. "Don't bother. This one's on me." He replies passively while relocking the chest. "My student tosses you like a raging bull, then I pay for it."
He chuckles after saying that, as if it's no big deal. But it just makes the pit in my stomach deeper. This isn't something to take so lightly. So why is he acting so casually about it?
I could have killed her.
I wasn't thinking straight and going way too fast. Adding my own momemtum to it. Which I already knew was strong enough to take chunks out of trees. It was so stupid of me.
The [Knight] gives a few testing hops and stretches. "Absolutely dreadful. And yet I cannot argue with the results." She admits with slight apprehension before she places her hands on her hips and turns to face the [Ranger] across the table. "So. Are you going to tell us what the hell happened? Or am I going to have to take drastic measures?"
Arric leans back a bit as he finishes taking a swig from his bottle of ale. His eyes locking onto hers calmly. "I told you what happened. We talked, she checked her window, got upset, and ran. Simple as that."
Thorpe stares at him sharply for a few seconds before he leans forward against the table, resting on his elbows. "I think—that is oversimplifying the in-between's here. What did you talk about?"
The [Ranger] takes another swig from the bottle, his eyes shifting back and forth between both of them. "She was curious about Hascan culture. So we just chatted about that. Told her what I usually tell anyone who asks."
Old Guard and Ethel both go quiet. Drowning the room in an uncomfortable silence. Then the two glance at each other. Thorpe's jaw is locked tight while he bores a hard stare at the [Knight].
After a few seconds, Ethel sighs and gestures to Thorpe. And the air suddenly becomes heavier. Instantly, Old Guard lunges and grabs Arric by his upper arms and slams him onto the kitchen counter near the washbasin. The [Ranger] barely has time to react, his eyes go wide and then suddenly he's bent over backwards with his arms pinned to his sides.
Even Ethel flinches as it happens, but she stays put where she is with her arms folded over her chest. Not looking happy, but content to let this happen. Arric struggles, but despite being quite larger, the old man seems to be a league stronger.
Thorpe's voice comes out in a growl, "I do not have the patience for pussyfooting around right now. She was obviously fleeing from something and the only person who was with her was you!" Old Guard snarls in a voice I haven't heard him use since the hunting trip. "So you better get wise real quick..."
My body froze up in shock at how quickly the situation changed. My mind taking several seconds to catch up and register what is even going on. But once it finally clicks, I hurl myself off the bed loudly and rush into the main room to roar at the top of my lungs, "LET HIM GO!"
Ethel and Thorpe both snap their attention to me. Arric as well, albeit a bit awkwardly from his folded over position. The air still holding a death grip on the sudden tension, but wavering at my inclusion.
"He didn't do anything to me! He's telling the truth. All we did was talk. It isn't his fault!" I cry out, my face painfully stretched into an ugly grimace as I fight back a fresh sob. "Please stop. He helped me. So please—please don't hurt him."
Thorpe continues to hold Arric for a few seconds while studying me. The old mans expression falters from its fury before he eventually lets him go. Taking a few steps back to give the [Ranger] some much-needed space.
Arric gets himself up off the counter with a groan. Definitely not looking very happy about being manhandled like that, but he does not voice his frustration. Even gives me an appreciative glance and a nod.
Ethel turns to face me fully with concern written on her features. "Then what happened?"
I flinch at the question and hug myself tightly. A part of my still panicked mind wanting to force me back into silence. But re-sheltering myself wouldn't make this situation any better. And I can't keep letting this irrational fear of myself control my actions. So I suck in a shaky breath and try my best to face the two of them properly, even if my eyes want to look anywhere else.
"I..." I mutter too quietly at first. "I've been wanting to talk to Arric for the last few weeks. Ever since I got that [Primeval Awareness] skill that lets me understand monster speech. And since he could do the same and even talk to them, I was curious if he had the same one."
Ethel frowns, already not looking pleased by that decision. But she doesn't say anything.
Thorpe continues to look passively at me. "And I'm guessing it was the same one?" Old Guard asks with a raise of his brow.
I nod slowly and glance at Arric apologetically. "I thought he already knew about my situation from Ethel, but I was wrong. But I had already told him. And apparently the skill is impossible to learn by normal means, so he wanted to know how I got it. So I..." I clear my throat, unable to stop myself from looking guilty. "I confided in him. Told him everything."
Ethel groans and slaps her forehead with her palm. "Liore..."
"We can save the lecture for later." Thorpes states firmly towards the [Knight] before returning his attention to me. "What exactly did you learn?"
I swallow hard at the question and nervously look back to the [Ranger]. Because I really don't want to air out all of his people's cultural secrets. But explaining all of this is difficult without it.
Unfortunately, Thorpe and Ethel definitely notice me looking towards him and neither appear pleased that I am essentially deferring to him on what can be said. Which just puts him back on the spot again.
Arric slumps and lets out a sigh that lasts for nearly ten seconds. "Since the skill in question has already been named, as well as the fact that I also have it, then my oath to keep it secret means very little." He finally speaks, looking a little nervously at the two other adults. "The skill she and I share is not something any class gets naturally. It is given to you. And the only one in the world who can do that is the Beast Saint."
Ethel furrows her brow in genuine confusion. "What? That isn't at all what you told me. How the hell can she even do that?"
He shakes his head. "I am under oath not to speak of it, so I lied. But honestly, I really don't know how she is able to do it." The [Ranger] admits, looking somewhat glassy eyed again. "She is such a strange person..."
The [Knight] rubs her temples. "That doesn't make any sense. The church literally says that only God can grant skills. It should be impossible."
Old Guard snorts, "The church says a lot of things." He remarks before moving closer and raising his brow at me. "But that can't possibly be what spooked you so badly. So what did?"
I can't help but look away from him nervously, but I manage to wrestle control back to meet his gaze. "After I told him what happened to me and about my skills. He noticed some similarities to some of his own skills and how he got them." I explain, trying not to give too much detail, but enough to get the idea across. "That they might be the same type of skill. And I think he's right. Because after we talked, the description of [Slayers Aspect] changed..."
Thorpe's eyes widen for a moment before his expression softens. "And you really didn't like what it said, did you?"
My chest tightens. Wringing my hands together in front of myself as my lip quivers. "It scares me." I answer quietly, no longer able to keep eye contact. "It makes me sound like I'm..." My voice trails off as the thought sickens me to my core.
The old man closes the distance and rests his hands on my shoulders to steady me. "No matter what it says, it doesn't make any difference to who you actually are. So I don't wanna hear any self-deprecating nonsense about it."
"Indeed. Sometimes skills have cryptic descriptions as well. So I wouldn't be concerned about it too much." Ethel adds in with a comforting smile. "Perhaps we can help make sense of it."
Hearing that does make me feel slightly better. But not by much. I still can't help but feel like I'm in the unique position to take it pretty literally with how everything has gone so far.
I wipe my sweaty palms onto my trousers, feeling all three of their gazes focused on me. Which makes feel uncomfortable. So I focus just on Thorpe for my own well-being. His presence always tends to make me feel more secure.
I'm still mad at him though...
"May the blinded see..." I mutter, bringing my window back up. And my hand is already up to poke at the skill before I have a chance to hesitate.
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[Slayers Aspect]: The Aspect of the Slayer Saint. His power, presence, and potential. His all and everything. You, heir to his wrath. Seed to sow, thorns to grow, blood before water.
May Thy Divine Be Damned... May My Enemies Divide Before Me...
Keep what you kill. When slaying a creature of any type, you may harvest from it a random skill in its possession. You may only have as many harvested skills equal to your Intelligence stat. These skills can be discarded and replaced by harvesting more from slain creatures.
____________________________________________
I give a slight sigh of relief to see that it hasn't changed anymore since then and simply read out the extra parts while watching Thorpe's reactions.
His brows immediately pinch inward at the very start and get progressively tighter to the point where his eyes narrow. And once I'm done, the cabin falls into a contemplative silence.
Within that, I finally let my eyes wander to the other two in the room. The [Ranger] still near to the washbasin in the kitchen, finishing off the ale he had managed to hold onto through the scuffle. He appears curious, but not too deeply invested. But it's also too difficult to tell what he is thinking half the time anyway.
Ethel on the other has her mouth covered by one hand and she seems lost in thought. Her eyes fixated on something in the bottom right corner of her vision. She looks like she's grasping something we aren't, but isn't certain.
Thorpe finally lets out a low graveled hum. "That sounds pretty damn direct to me." He admits, moving a few steps to the side to drop himself into his cushioned chair in front of the fireplace. "For it to mention a Saint directly, that is pretty substantial. But I have never heard of a Slayer Saint before." Old Guard looks over towards the [Knight]. "Ring any bells? You look like you're thinking about this pretty hard."
Ethel looks up from burning holes into the floor with her eyes. Honestly looking somewhat disoriented. "Neither have I. And every archive in the Grand has a tome dedicated to all the Saints in history. Of which I have skimmed dozens of times. You would think we would have heard it at least once."
I clear my throat. "Um. Maybe the Holy Order just doesn't know about them? Like they became a Saint but never went out into the public?"
The [Knight] shakes her head. "That isn't how it works. Yes, you do need to be level 15 to become one. But actually becoming a Saint means that you are recognized by the church and have become ordained by god to sainthood. Which, if your window is actively referring to them as 'Saint', then they clearly were. There would have to be some record of them somewhere."
Old Guard nods slowly. "But that quote at the end. 'May thy divine be damned.' Doesn't exactly sound like they're a fan of God." He states matter-of-factly.
Ethel closes her mouth tight and exhales through her nose. "Right. But even the Saints that the church weren't fond of are properly chronicled." The [Knight] remarks before her lips purse. "But that is also the part that is so strange to me. It's written in prayer script like a divine skill incantation." She notes as she begins to pace around. "And that last line..." Her face scrunches again in intense thought.
Thorpe raises a brow at her. "Sound familiar?"
She bites her lip for a brief moment before she shifts her shoulders and shakes her head slowly. "I'm not sure. I've heard so many strange and uncommon incantations before that sound similar. But without a doubt, anything that starts with 'May thee' or 'May thy' is most certainly prayer script."
The more academic conversation draws me out of my shell bit by bit as my curiosity flares. "You mean like the one we use to open our windows?" I ask to the room, directing it no one in particular as I assume any of them could answer.
Ethel perks up out of her haze with a small smile in my direction. "Exactly. There is a subset of class skills that many classes have that require a divine incantation to activate. Usually, those skills in particular have a way of briefly changing the rules of God's system. So it is seen as asking for permission. Most commonly being healing spells that [Clerics] and [Priests] use. Or, of course, skills like [Inspect]."
I nod slowly at the explanation. But that does put another question in my head. "If it's an incantation, then why doesn't anything happen when I say it?"
Thorpe yawns briefly before smoothing out his greying hair on his head. "That's because you don't know what it does, kiddo." He says with a slight smirk. "You can think of it like finding a key, but you have no idea what door it opens."
"As well." Ethel chips in, taking a seat in one of the dining chairs. "We have no idea if that is the whole incantation. It doesn't seem to have any effect on your [Slayers Aspect] skill, per se. You don't seem to need it to gain monster skills." She points out with a slight shrug.
Ah, that's true. Then what the hell is it even there for? Just more questions on top of miniscule answers. Story of my life.
I deflate a little, lowering myself onto the floor to sit cross-legged. Thankfully feeling less manic thanks to the support of these three. One of which I had a full-blown argument with not but a few hours ago. And the other I just nearly killed.
How can I possibly deserve to get any help from either of them?
Arric might feel more out of place in here, but at least I haven't had any issues with him yet. Knock on wood.
Ethel takes a deep breath and stands up, collecting her discarded pieces of armor. "Well. I think I shall have to stew on this. And I want to inform Lord Felix of the findings as well. Perhaps he might have heard of such a Saint in passing."
Arric nods in agreement. "I will rejoin the patrol then."
Old Guard's nose wrinkles a bit at the [Ranger]. "Maybe you should take a break. I think you've earned it after having me manhandle you like that." He says with evident guilt in his tone. But Arric shakes his head and offers a dismissive wave.
"Water under the bridge, as one says. I do not fault you for your concern. Best to leave it be and move on, or else we let it fester." He responds passively before aiming a respectful nod in my direction. "Get some rest, cub."
I shudder slightly when he calls me that, uncovering some uncomfortable memories. But I return the nod to him before he takes his leave. Which normally I would want to object and try to rejoin him. But I don't have the energy to be that stubborn anymore. My bed is beckoning to me. So I stand up from the floor and begin heading to the door as well.
"Liore..." Thorpe speaks up, looking my way with a more solemn expression. "Wait a second. I want to talk real quick."
That tightness forms in my chest again as he says that. But I stop my approach to the door and offer a nod to him. Nervously hugging myself again.
"I'll leave you two alone then. I have too much energy now though. So might as well join the patrol too so I'm not faffing about." She says with a sigh before glancing down at me. That warm smile of hers returning. "Don't feel too bad, though. I'm not mad at you. I really did get in your way myself, so it is partially my fault."
Despite the assurance, the guilt still weighs my head down. "Even still, I shouldn't have been doing something so dangerous without thinking. I'm sorry."
She rests a hand on my shoulder and gives it a comforting squeeze. "Apology accepted, Liore." Her warm smile then becomes a bit devious. "But I still expect to have that spar soon. So you better be ready."
The corners of my mouth tilt up slightly. "I'll be ready." I respond, adding in as much determination as I can muster. Which seems to satisfy her enough to chuckle before she leaves the cabin. The cabin door clattering behind her.
An uncomfortable silence takes over the room. Neither of us seeming to know what to say first. But I quickly cannot take the quiet, so I shift my attention to him. "Look. I'm sorry about earlier—"
"Don't be." He interrupts, raising a hand to quiet me. My mouth immediately shutting tight. The old man takes a deep breath and stares at me fully. "The argument we had early. You were right." He admits, threading his fingers together and leaning forward in his chair. "I've been making some pretty stupid decisions lately. Probably even longer than that. And it's selfish and causing things to suffer. So I want to explain myself."
I can tell that saying this is pretty difficult for him. The way his face flinches when he speaks, as if the words hurt him. "You really don't need to—"
"Stop." He states flatly. "I don't deserve the mercy. Just let me say my peace here." The old man tightens his hands together in front of him as he takes in a long breath before he speaks again.
"When Yara and your father asked me to train Leone. It awakened something in me. An—ego, that I thought I had left behind a long time ago." His nose begins to wrinkle. "I really thought I had been holding back when I taught your brother. Because, as you know, I didn't want to teach him anything that would get contradicted by the Church. But I realize now that I really didn't hold back much at all."
Old Guard shakes his head and untangles his fingers so he can rub his temples instead. "So despite me not teaching him nearly as much as you, my ego still rubbed off on him. Made him arrogant and high-strung. And even when I noticed it and reprimanded him for it. I'd still somehow egg him on the next day anyway." He chuckles darkly, still shaking his head as if he can't control it. "Which lead into that whole mess with the Horned Wolves."
His fingers are pressing so hard into his temples that I'm beginning to worry he'll hurt himself. But thankfully he lowers his hands back down into his lap and sighs.
"It didn't help that everyone was filling his head with heroics, including me." He admits with a grimace, which I share as well, because I was just as guilty of doing that to Leone as anyone.
Old Guard finally lifts his head to lock eyes with me. "The only saving grace Leone had was that he just wasn't that fast a learner. He struggled a lot. Which certainly made him frustrated. But at least it slowed his progress enough to where I didn't take things further than I already had." He says before his mouth curves into a frown. "But everything I left out with him, I subjected you to instead."
My stomach feels like it just twisted into a knot at his choice of phrasing. Making it sound like he tortured me or something. Every fiber of my being wanting to object, but I still keep quiet. Letting him say his peace, like he wants.
"Leone's path in life was already set for him. I already knew what he would be capable of. But with you..." He gestures to me lightly with a sad look in his eyes. "You were an anomaly. A blank canvas. No clear idea of the path ahead. So I could basically steer you however I wanted." His nose wrinkles at his own choice of words. "So I did..."
A genuine smile forms across his face. "And god, you are like an infinite sponge." He chuckles. "You are smart and observant. You listened and learned. You trained as hard as I asked you to even it was tougher than you needed. And when I gave you more you kept going. Hung off of my every word like it was gospel."
His nose wrinkles. "It felt good. Too good."
He suddenly grits his teeth and runs a hand through his hair hard enough to tear out a good amount of strands. "Which just fed my ego even more. Made me feel like I was worth something again." He hisses through his teeth. "So I basically just started teaching you—how to be me." A tear drips from his cheek, more catching in the dark wrinkles beneath his eyes as his whole demeanor sinks.
My fists clench in frustration. Hating how sad he seems to be at something I've taken pride in from the moment he offered to train me years ago. I always wanted to be like him. Who else could I possibly look up to like that? "But that's what I wanted."
He shakes his head. "You shouldn't..."
My lip quivers while my fingernails dig painfully into my palms. "But you are a hero—"
"I'm not." He interrupts, his expression almost looking disgusted at the very notion. "I am—a washed up, sad old man. Who has seen too much. And has outlived everyone better." He states plainly before his hand raises just as I'm about to yell at him again. "Give me a second. Please. I know the self-deprecating is real hypocritical of me. I am going through a lot right now. So, just bear with me."
I shut my mouth apprehensively and exhale sharply through my nose. "Fine..."
Thorpe's shoulders sag and he sighs. "Leone became arrogant, and that might have been partly on his own. But what I instilled in you was my own paranoia. My own insecurities. My lack of care for my own body." His frustration with himself easily bleeds through as his voice raises. "Ethel is right. I'm out of touch. From being in the Lapse to spending decades being dragged around by people who were actual heroes. Experiencing life so beyond the norm that it warps my judgement. Makes my expectations too high. And I put that on both of you."
He throws his arms up as he stands to walk over to where his spear is propped up on its rack. "It wasn't enough that I feel like I've basically turned myself into a replacement for your father. But I've built myself into the only person you really felt like you could trust. And when you needed me the most, I tried to seperate myself."
Old Guard shakes his head and turns back around to face me. Looking utterly dejected. "My bright idea to make it better was to cut you off and let you fend for yourself. Which even that I couldn't do correctly." He scoffs at himself. "I'm over eighties years old. But apparently I needed a thirteen-year-old to tell me to shut the fuck up to actually start getting my head out of my ass."
My mouth forms a thin line at that while I awkwardly rub my shoulder. "Sorry..."
Thorpe rolls his eyes and walks over to stand in front of me. "Don't apologize for setting me straight." He states a bit sternly. "I have been stupid and unfair to you for weeks. Told you I wasn't your friend, as if I didn't care. Treating you like you shouldn't be involved in something you have every right to know about. Trying to take back everything that was already said and done in some misguided attempt to fix something that ain'tbroken."
Tears begin stinging at my eyes again, my hands already coming up on instinct to wipe them away with my sleeves. Several trailing down his own face as well.
"Like you said before. I can beat myself up about what I could have done better all I want, but you're already over it. And at some point. I have to realize that distancing myself to avoid making more mistakes is not helping anyone." He admits quietly. "And I can't keep letting the fear of failing again stop me from caring for what I have now."
He goes quiet for a brief moment, his eyes getting lost. "I used to be such a husk of a person because of that. And your mom practically had to pry me out of a tavern seat with a crowbar when she found me. And yet she's treated me like family ever since. Even if I don't feel like I deserve it."
He sighs, placing his hands onto his hips. "And here I was stumbling right back into the gutter. Like some moron."
For a long moment, I just stare at him. Watching the range of emotions his face shifts through.
I already knew that he's been through a lot in life. But I only really know a fraction of it all. The parts he's told me about or tidbits he's mentioned.
There is still so much he hasn't told me though, and probably for good reasons. Even if I'd love to hear it all.
But I don't really need to know. And he never has to tell me. Because it doesn't really matter.
All I do know is that I relate to him a lot. It's partly why I feel so comfortable around him. We've always meshed well together, even before the accident. So I don't really care if he wants to blame himself for influencing me poorly.
I don't really mind.
Because besides the insecurities and the paranoia, he has qualities that I prefer to take with me wherever I go.
Because he's selfless. And brave. And reliable. And he cares so deeply for everyone around him. Whether you like or not.
Unable to hold myself still anymore, I step forward and hug him. Wrapping my arms around his neck. A move that surprises him, as he flinches. Taking a moment to register what happened before he slowly embraces me back.
I squeeze him tighter. "If it's any consolation. You always felt more like an uncle than anything."
He chuckles in between a slight sniffle, patting my back. "I think I can live with that."
We hold one another for a few more seconds before breaking away. Thorpe staring down at me a little more seriously. "Things are definitely going to have to change still with how I teach you. But the next meeting we have with Lord Felix about the [Bandits], you're coming with me. You should definitely be there."
I smile at that, letting out a sigh of relief through my nose. "Thank you. It's been maddening not really knowing what the plan is."
Thorpe nods. "I'll give you the full rundown tomorrow. I know I said a bit about it this morning, but there is a lot I left out. And it's really not ideal. But we don't have a lot of other options."
What snippet I got of the plan this morning definitely didn't fill me with confidence. So knowing the entire thought process and what they are expecting would really help.
Whether knowing will really increase my confidence or not is anyone's guess.
But I can leave that to the Liore of tomorrow. Today has been an emotional downpour. And it clearly isn't looking like the skies are any clearer ahead of us.
But we'll just have to weather it.