SPLASH
A shock of cold crashes over me. My body jolts violently at the sudden extreme change in temperature and my eyes snap open. Gasping and trembling. My breathing panicked as I search around me frantically. My vision blurry, but I count at least a dozen figures out in the dark area all centered around a massive roaring fire.
"The brats awake." A gruff voice says near me, causing me to flinch. I hadn't noticed a tall man standing next to me, a bucket still gripped by one hand. Light leather armor adorning his body and a broadsword on his hip. His voice sounds familiar.
My left eye is still stuck closed and no manner of effort is opening it. In fact my entire left side feels entirely numb. My left arm is definitely still broken by looks of it but I can't feel any of the pain. Judging by the taste in my mouth someone might have fed me a health potion to stave it off.
My right eyes vision is starting to clear up and I'm getting a better look around. The campsite is large. Taking up a small clearing and the area around it. Small camping tents sporadically set up with openings facing the fire. A roasting boar monster is currently being rotated over an actual metal spit roaster with a crank. Currently being operated by a scrawny exhausted old man with shock white hair.
Around the camp is several rugged looking people. Men and women armed to the teeth but settling down for the night. Each of them covered in scars save for a few younger ones. Their speaking casually to one another. Drinking from small wooden cups that their filling up at a spouted barrel nestled on the back of a two wheeled wagon. I catch glances from them in my direction every so often. A predatory gleam in their eyes.
"Good. We can get this over with then." The all too familiar gravely voice drawing my attention to bandit mage, Dreyfus, setting down a small wooden crate in front of me. Lowering himself down to sit. His tired grey eyes giving me that uncomfortable appraising look.
I try to stand up but can't manage to even budge. Not only from my numb left leg but also a pressure around my midsection I hadn't noticed before. A rope secured around my abdomen pinning my back to one of the Emperor trees. "Wh…what's going on? Where's Thorpe?!" I cry out to the mage hoarsely. It hurts my throat but at least I can actually speak now.
Dreyfus raised his free left hand in a calming gesture. "Easy now. He's alive. Certainly better than he's going to be soon." The mage hooks his thumb over his shoulder, directing my attention to another tree across camp.
My heart skips a beat. Thorpe is lashed to the tree just like me but his arms are pulled back and wrapped around the trunk. All of his armor and upper clothing has been removed. His body has been beaten and carved up. Blood caking his torso and face. Flesh littered with deep gashes and massive bruises. Sections of skin flayed from his chest and sides. An amount of damage that would kill anyone normal but he still seems conscious. His face hidden beneath his hair while his head hangs low.
"WHAT DID YOU DO TO HIM!?" I cry out in shock. My stomach churns at the sight. I want to throw up but all I can get out is dry heaves. Leading me into vicious coughing fit. My already sensitive throat stinging under the strain.
Even worse, a few of the bandits laugh at my outburst as their attentions are drawn to us fully.
But the Mages hand raises up and the others quiet down. His eyes never looking away from me. "He killed three of my people. Friends of ours. So we took out a bit of aggression on him is all. Is that so wrong?"
My one working eye widens at him. My teeth gritting hard through labored breaths. An emotion I don't think I have ever once felt so purely before in my life takes over. "YOU SENT THEM TO HUNT US!" I shout at the mage. Pure rage at the ridiculous answer. The act of which feels like it's shredding my already sensitive throat. A familiar metallic taste flecks onto my tongue.
Dreyfus seems unbothered by the outburst. His shoulders raising and dropping in a light shrug. "That is true. But does it really matter? We can still be upset about it." He responds with a casualness that infuriates me further. Even more so when a corner of his mouth tilts up in a little half grin.
My teeth creak under the strain of my clenching jaw. Every fiber of my being wants to punch his teeth in but I can't move. A very knew emotion for me but my body is broken and this rope isn't giving me any slack at all to the point where even breathing is hard. And it was already difficult to begin with.
"Why? What…do you want?" I growl at him, tears stinging my eyes. Any composure I had left is quickly crumbling. Any strength I thought I had these past few days seems so miniscule now.
Dreyfus smiles wider, leaning forward. "Good girl. Let's cut to the chase." The mage points an index finger lazily at me. "When Loyd told me you were just a [Farmer] I nearly pissed myself laughing. Cause you certainly have some interesting skills for a 'Farm Girl.'" He chuckles as if he's caught onto an inside joke. "So let's be real. What's your real class? You don't seem to be wearing any glammers or anything enchanted with [Secrets]. How are you hiding it?"
I grimace at the question, averting my eye away from him. "I…I don't know…" And I honestly don't.
Dreyfus is quiet for a moment before he finally lets out a sigh. "Velkan…"
The man standing next to me with the bucket grunts, tossing the bucket aside and walking across the camp towards Thorpe. I recognize him now as the other swordsman from the Kite fight. The man unsheathes his sword as he gets near. My mind flashing with panic as the sword is raised up above Old Guards head. "NO NO NO WAIT WAIT!"
The mage lifts his hand up above his shoulder and the swordsman stops.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks. "I…am a farmer. That is the truth. I was born a farmer." I croak out. "B…but my class is broken…an accident happened…I touched a weird old book I found in a ruin and it gave me skills I'm not supposed to have. Broke all of my real ones. I have no idea what the class is. Please believe me...don't...don't hurt him anymore..." I stutter out as quickly as I can. The Mages face going from agitated to intrigued. An expression not shared by his comrades who all look confused at my fumbling explanation.
The mage stares at me for a moment. Analyzing my face. "Certainly the first I've heard of that happening. But I've heard of stranger things." He admits, tapping his foot for a moment. "What kind of skills did you get then? You seem to be able to jump great distances. And your senses are faster than high level [Ranger]'s I've seen." He asks curiously, tilting his head and lifting a brow. His expression not really giving away whether he actually believes me or not.
My head lowers. Starting to wish my right side was as numb as my left. "They're monster skills…I have a passive that lets me take them by killing monsters…" I mutter, trying to avoid meeting his gaze. "I got the jumping skill, [Leap Stride], from a jackelope. It was my first one. The other is [Threat Detection] from a Sawtooth. I got that one the morning before we...met you."
I waited for more laughs. Perhaps yelled at for lying. But instead the camp is quiet. Dead quiet. Enough that it finally makes me look up to see what's going on.
And I immediately regret it.
My skin breaks out in a cold sweat. Becoming eerily aware of my own heartbeat as I notice the entire camp is now staring directly at me. Some of them have even stood up from their lounging positions near their tents. That predatory look some of them were giving me is now shared amongst the lot of them. Almost like their about to charge at me.
"I could use a skill like that…" one of them says with a smirk.
Another sneers at him. "Says the dumbass who got shot in the chest by a fucken teenager during the last raid. You'd just waste it."
The first one snarls at the other bandit. "He was hiding underneath a corpse and I gutted him afterwards! Lay off my ass!"
And another. "My build would benefit from that skill more than anyone else!"
"It would benefit any of our builds you idiot!"
The group of nearly a dozen bandits belted insults and arguments at one another. Sort of reminding me of the shouting matches that would happen at the village meetings sometimes. But those were always over crop rotations or town gossip.
This time it's a bunch of bandits arguing about who gets to kill me…
I can't stop myself from trembling. My face soaked in my own tears. Fear overwhelming my mind.
I haven't felt this helpless since I fell into that ruin years ago. But instead of just one horned wolf, now it's like there's an entire pack of them. Vying to tear me apart. All to harvest a skill that I don't even fully understand myself, nor am I even supposed to have to begin with.
"QUIET!" Dreyfus's voice booms around the camp. All of the bandits shut their mouths and look in his direction. Which he hasn't taken his eyes off me the entire time. But finally tilts his head to look over his shoulder at his comrades. "No one is killing her unless I say so."
Several sighs and groans erupt from the group of bandits. Some of them kicking or hitting loose objects in frustration
Dreyfus frowns at the antics. "Oh shut it! The chances of getting a skill from a rare class is low enough to not warrant trying." He barks before returning his attention to me. cracking a wicked smile. "Besides. I think she'd be much more useful alive."
I swallow hard at that. Not really certain whether I should thank him for saying that or not. But it seems to quell the others interest. For now.
The mage stands up and approaches. Kneeling down in front of me. "I like that [Threat Detection] skill you've got. I'm guessing that's the one that saved my life. Could have been bad if I got impaled by a chunk of wood outta nowhere. I really must thank you again for that."
"Y…you're welcome. But why does that matter?"
The mage chuckles. "Well just so happens I lost my bodyguard recently and I'm looking for a decent replacement." Scratching the stubble on his chin. "I got Tarfyr when he was about your age and he was loyal for years. But he was starting to slack off a lot recently. So I think you'd fit the position even better."
My brows furrow at him. Afraid and confused in equal measure. "Wh…what do you mean? Tarfyr was way stronger than me…"
The mage scoffs. "Strength isn't everything. And like I said…he had been slacking. I mean I almost died right in front of him. BY A PIECE OF FUCKING WOOD! AND HE DID NOTHING! YOU DID!" The mage jabs me in the shoulder with his index finger for emphasis. His eye's wild with agitation that shifts to calm all too quickly. "But he served his purpose. And at least he was useful enough to die distracting your old man."
My eye widens as I realize now why Tarfyr tried to kill me so quickly. "You…knew he would die…" I mutter quietly. "That he didn't stand a chance…and you sent him anyway…"
Dreyfus groans. "Well I didn't tell him to go die. And I certainly didn't think he'd be smart enough to realize I was aiming to replace him with you. Sorry about that..." The mage admits with a passive wave of his hand. "I simply told him to make himself useful…and in the end he did. And now I've got you. Perfect trade I'd say."
For a second I am too stunned to respond. Staring at this horrible man who looks all too proud of himself. "You're a monster…"
The mage just snorts. "I get that a lot."
Gritting my teeth, rediscovering that anger from a few minutes ago. "I will NEVER defend you…"
He stands up and laughs. A few of the other bandits joining in and even a few repeating my words in a mocking tone. The mage gives a fake solemn nod. "That's entirely fair…I guess we'll just have to kill you both and then head off for the next location then." He turns to look towards the swordsman who is still standing next to Thorpe. "Say Velkan. Where was it we are going next? I'm having trouble remembering."
The older bandit raises a brow before giving a wry smile back. "I believe it was a village hidden in the hills a few days east of here."
My heart nearly pounds out of my chest and I scream out before I can even stop myself. "NO!!"
Dreyfus returns his attention to me. That smirk on his face making me grit my teeth as he moves back over to me. "I had a feeling you two were from there." He kneels down in front of me again but this time jams the top of his staff into my chest painfully. "Then you will be my new protector. And MAYBE…we won't burn your village to the ground. Does that sound fair?"
I feel useless. Less than useless even. The mocking gazes of these bandits feeling like their burning my skin.
What am I supposed to do…
What even can I do…
My eyes shift over to look at Thorpe across camp. His body still and head lulled forward with his mess of graying brown hair obscuring his face. Wondering if he might already be dead.
Another jab to my chest from the mages staff redraws my attention.. "What's it going to be princess?" His expression is more impatient now.
Any amount of energy or fight I had left in me has drained away. What use did it even have other than to entertain our captors.
There is no way out of this.
I don't meet his gaze. I can't stand looking at him anymore. Nor can I stand the look of satisfaction likely painted over his face. "…fine…I'll…do it…"
"So you'll protect me?"
"Y...yes. I'll protect you." I answer with a grimace.
A burning sensation flashes over my right shoulder. "Agh! Wh...what is..that?!"
The mage reaches over and pulls up the right sleeve of my tunic. Showing a large black mark that looks like a hollow clover with 5 leaves. On the inside is symmetrical spikey shapes that lead to the center where 5 eye shaped holes are set.
My panic increases, flashing a glare at the mage. "What did you to me?!"
Dreyfus stands, looking down at me with a smile. "It's one of my favorite skills I have. Just an extra safety precaution. It's called an indenturing mark. Same one Tarfyr had but his was on his chest. The placement is random every time." He says casually while pulling a dagger out of his belt and swiftly cutting through the ropes holding me to the tree.
I'm a little stunned that he is setting me free. But even with the ropes gone I can't do much to get up on my own. My left side is still almost entirely numb other than a growing ache as the cheap healing potion starts wearing off.
Dreyfus leans down to me and chuckles. "Don't worry. The terms aren't too unfair. Just keeps you from harming me and lets me punish you if you disobey me." He then frowns and narrows his eyes at me. "So don't disobey me."
My nose wrinkles at him. I was so lost in despair I hadn't even considered I could just try to attack him. But it seems he is used to this. Which is even more gross. And now I'm feeling even more pity for Tarfyr.
The mage stands upright and gives me a new appraising look. "But before I can completely accept you into our ranks. There is a little initiation first." Turning back around and gesturing to me. "She can't walk, pick her up. And someone get me that bottle from the old man's pack."
Two of the bandits split off. One of them approaching me while the other walks off to the right past some of the trees to their wagon.
The one that approaches me is a woman. Someone who was just arguing for the right to kill me mere moments ago. She lifts me up by looping her arm under my right one. I feel a bit woozy as I'm lifted up and essentially dragged over to where Thorpe is lashed. Dreyfus waiting there already.
The mage gives a wave of his free hand. "Cut him down…"
Velkan, who had still been standing near to Old Guard, sighs as he uses his sword to slash the ropes holding the old man up. Causing Thorpe to drop down to the ground in a bloody heap. Barely even making a sound.
I feared he might be dead already if not for the slight wheeze in his weakening breath.
My instinct was to drop down and check on him but the bandit holding me yanks me back hard. "Keep still brat!"
All of the bandits are gathering up and some of them don't look very happy at all.
"We lose 3 guys to not even get skills from either? What a waste."
"I get it that the girls too rare to gamble with but at least I thought one of us would get the old guy. Those spear skills are way crazier than I've seen on other guards."
"Both of you need to shut up. We can't get shit from him. He's too high level and we don't have a [Highwayman]."
"So he's really level 11? Out here? No wonder the mutt died…"
A frown is firmly carved into my face as I listen to the quiet conversation around the group. Really not liking the direction it's taking.
The other bandit returns from their wagon with a familiar bottle in their hand. The same green tinted bottle of Healers Draught I've had to take two spoonful's over the past week because my ribs seem prone to shattering at any given moment.
Like Thorpe had said it was much easier to stomach the second time. But easier did not mean better. And I still passed out from the pain.
But something I do notice now that I am at a different angle in the camp is that the wagon is more in view for me. On the back of the wagon is several sacks, crates, and a pile of various weapons. Two of those weapons catch my eye because the golden ornate spear is unmistakable. As well as the silver tower shield next to it. But both of them are now wrapped in what appear to be blue ghostly chains. Likely keeping Thorpe from summoning them.
The mage takes the bottom from the bandit and gestures at Thorpe with his staff. "Get him up!"
Velkan and another bandit grab the old man and bring him up to his knees. Tilting him back a bit. Thorpe's head raising weakly, swaying a bit.
A tightness forms in my chest. I don't like where this is going.
Dreyfus turns back to me and smiles warmly, as if this was a casual moment and he is greeting a guest. "All you need to do…is kill him."
My blood runs cold. "W…what?"
The mages nose wrinkles at me. "Don't make me repeat myself. I told you have to kill him." He cracks a grin. "Think of it like putting your signature on our deal. And it proves your loyalty to everyone else here who'd rather just kill you to gamble for your skills."
My body shakes in the bandits grip. Emotion overtaking me as sobs wrack my throat. "Please…don't make me do this…I can't…"
The mage growls and lowers his staff to jab the top of it hard against my forehead. Hard enough to draw blood. "YOU WILL! You will kill him, that's an order!"
The newly emboldened mark on my shoulder begins to burn. Making me grit my teeth against the pain. "Ppp…please…"
He steps up close enough to loom over me. Face inches from mine. Anger burning in his eyes. "I can make that hurt a lot more if you don't do as I say. We can do this all night if you want. But just know…the more you refuse…the less likely I am to be in a good enough mood to not slaughter everyone else in your stupid village!"
My pleas doing little to dissuade the blood thirsty crowd of bandits who are looking even more impatient than the mage. All of their faces blurry under the torrent of fresh tears down my cheeks.
"Liore…" A weak voice rasps. Not loud. But distinct enough to draw attention.
Dreyfus moves out of the way and all of us look over to see Thorpe with his head up as high as it will go. His face bruised and caked in dried blood. One of his eyes is swollen shut.
"Thorpe…" I answer, coming out more like a whimper of a wounded animal. My lip quivering, shaking my head. "Don't…"
I know what he's going to say.
"It's okay…just do what he says."
I grit my teeth. "I…I can't…Please…"
"Yes you can. He's giving you a chance…don't waste it."
Dreyfus scoffs, turning back to look at me with the smarmiest smile I've ever seen. "Look at that…even got permission from dear old dad. Now you don't have any more excuses!" Grabbing my by the collar and dragging me to middle of the group. My limp leg not able to support my weight as I slam down onto my numb left side. Sending shocks of pain throughout my body.
A light thud hits the dirt next to me. And upon opening my good eye I see the mage has dropped his dagger down for me.
Why does this have to happen…
That old painful thought rising back into my mind.
That thought that I'm being punished by god for straying from his designed path.
It certainly feels like it…
Maybe I deserve this…
A kick to my side wakes me up from my stupor. Raising my head to see the mage grinning down at me. "Look at you…can hardly stand up. That mutt really did a number on you didn't he." He holds up the bottle and gives it a shake. The angry soupy red liquid inside seems to slither around inside the glass. "But the old man has given us a very nice parting gift that will get you right up. Know what this is?"
I almost say yes.
Almost.
Because as my eyes scan the bottle in the mages hand a thought occurs to me. A plan.
A gamble. Several in fact.
I shake my head slowly, trembling. "n…no…just…just that it's for emergencies."
The mage smiles almost kindly as he uncaps the bottle. "Well with the state you are in I'd say that's emergency enough huh?" Handing me the bottle gently and resting it into my right hand. "It's a super special healing potion. Just one swig. Careful though…expensive stuff."
I nod slowly, forcing myself not to grimace in advance. Acting like I've never tasted how horrible it is. The other bandits snickering and laughing as if anticipating how my first reaction be. Grateful that the mage is naïve enough to give me the whole damn bottle as I put the opening to my lips and knock it back.
I quickly swallow a portion for myself before letting the disgusting scalding slurry fill my mouth until I gag and lurch over to vomit it out onto the ground. Coughing and hacking as hard as I can to sell the visual. Not that I need to try very hard.
Laughs erupt around me as I spit into the still bubbling draught on the dirt. Too thick to sink into the dirt. "That's…disgusting…" I cough out before the bottle is snatched from my hand and a pain hits my side as Dreyfus me in the stomach.
"Stupid runt! Do you know how priceless this shit is?!"
But I'm not able to hear him too well as I've become too busy writhing on the ground as agony takes over. The sounds of the bones in my left arm and leg. My ribs, hip, and shoulder. All of it popping back into place, tearing through displaced flesh until that too is healed over again. I can't even scream with jaw feeling as though it's glued shut. Some of my teeth crack just to seal back closed.
More laughs at my struggle from the crowd.
But despite having passed out both times I've taken it before, this time I managed to stay conscious. I can't afford to faint. Not now.
Even with soreness still permeating my body I manage to raise myself on my own. Just in time to see Dreyfus kick the dagger over to me. The long straight blade glistening in the firelight with slight tinges from the moon.
No matter my stupid plan. I still have to do it.
My hand shakes as I reach out and grab onto the dagger. The soreness from the Draught is gone. I feel better than ever. Rejuvenated. Even cleared my head from all the emotion.
Horrible miracle fluid.
Rising to my feet and turning back to see everyone staring at me. Dreyfus glaring with impatience. While the others are a mix of amused or bored.
Some of them chuckle as I approach Thorpe again, still being held tight and on his knees. My eyes never looking away from him. But I can still see it. Right at the lower edge of my vision. None of them have paid it any mind. Too wrapped up in the comical display of a poor girl forced to kill her own family.
It's not bubbling anymore but the firelight is still catching the dark crimson of it on the dirt between us.
I don't know what it's shelve life is like out of the bottle…
I hope it's more than a minute.
The mage gives me a painful jab in the side with his staff. "DO IT!"
One of bandits snorts. "I think she just needs some encouragement boss. YOU CAN DO IT!"
His buddies laugh and follow his leads. Filling my ears with horrible mocking cheers.
Even if I'm more composed the tears don't stop. The trembling continues.
The thought of it failing hurts too much.
But reassurance comes as Old Guard meets my unsure gaze. His eyes sharper than they were a moment ago. At least the one not swollen shut. It's more focused.
He knows me. Knows how I think.
I choke back a sob. "I…I'm sorry…"
A small smile forms on his beaten face. "I'm not…" He states. "I am so proud."
I hate that. It makes it hurt even more. I grimace. My breath catching in my throat. Gripping the dagger tighter and tighter until my knuckles turn white. Before I force my hand to cock backwards and stab forward. Screaming out my frustration as loud as I possibly can.
The blade connects. Sinks in almost to the hilt, center mass of Old Guards chest.
He grunts. Eye going wide. Cheers from the bandits sting my ears.
Blood starts to leak from the wound around where the blade is embedded. The bandits holding onto him let go and step aside as he falls forward into me. I let go of the dagger and clutch him. Crying harder than I think I ever have in my life.
But I know I can't wait. I can't mourn. I can't stall.
Thorpe's weight has me drop to my knees. Letting him down into the dirt. His eye closes before I let him fully settle on the ground.
His face landing right in the puddle of Draught I spit out a moment ago.
I crawl away from him backwards. Shaking violently. My hands stained red with his blood. Every sob is painful as it stutters my breathing. Like I'm suffocating on my own emotions.
The bandits shake and shove me. Not in anger, but in celebration.
"You did it! Welcome to the clan!"
"First ones always the hardest. It'll get easier."
Words of affirmation so simple you'd think I'd won a contest. But no…they just forced me to stab my friend to death.
The bandits start to disperse back into the rest of the camp. Entertained. Ready to continue their drinking and anticipating that monster meat on the spit. Leaving me to stare helplessly at the motionless body of my mentor. Dreyfus walking up with that oddly kind smile on his face. "I know that must have been difficult for you. But it was necessary. You have a lot of potential. I knew it the moment I saw you." He reaches down and ruffles my cloud-like hair with his free hand. It takes a lot of willpower not to bite it. "I'll turn you into a force to be reckoned with. Better than Tarfyr could ever hope to be."
I slowly looked back up at him. Feeling dead inside. And likely looking like it as well. "Really?"
His smile widens. "Yes. Really. From what I saw you do against the Kite? I am very confident."
I stare at him for a moment, searching his face for truth but it's hard to discern what he believes in at all. "Okay…" I answer weakly, sniffling a bit and returning my attention back to Thorpe's body.
And for a moment I freeze. But just for a moment.
It's dark but I can see him still thanks to the roaring bonfire behind me. And I'm almost certain his body as shifted ever so slightly.
So I stare for a quiet moment before I return my attention back up to Dreyfus. "I…I want to bury him…at least...please sir?" I ask quietly.
The mage purses his lips, glancing over at Thorpe's body momentarily. But I can tell calling him 'Sir' made him pleased enough to consider.
I stand up shakily. "I can do it myself…it's fine…" Keeping my voice down to a sad mutter as I start walking back over to Old Guard.
Dreyfus taps his foot and sighs. "Since I've made you do something so difficult. I'll help you move him. But you are digging the hole yourself." Following along with me. Unaware of the glint of anticipation in my eyes.
We stop on either side of Thorpe's body and I kneel down to him to turn him over but my hands stop. Hovering them over the old man shakily as if I'm too scared to see his face.
The mage groans. "Oh come on." Leaning over to use his free hand to grab onto Thorpe's bare side and roll him over.
THUD. STAB.
The mage chokes. Trying to get a breath out but can't. His eyes wide with shock before they roll up nearly into his own head. The glint of a dagger beneath his chin. His own.
Once he turned Thorpe over, the old man snatched him by his collar and dragged him down to stab him clear to the hilt through his throat and up into his skull.
I step back as Thorpe pulls out the dagger and plunges it again right into the mages chest before shoving him over to the side.
The thud of Dreyfus's body hitting the ground is what finally alerts the rest of the camp. But before they have time to register what happened Old Guard is already on his feet. The wounds they had spent likely hours putting on him all closing. Leaving only a fully reinvigorated man caked in his own blood and staring them all down. Not with that cold and calculated expression I've been trying to get used to for days now. But a new one.
An expression I can only describe as a Death glare.
His spear and his shield materializing into his hands. No longer locked down by the mages spell. Likely vanishing the moment he died. The indenturing mark on my shoulder vanishing along with him.
The bandits in camp nervously eye their weapons that are spread throughout the camp. Inching towards them. Sweat building on their foreheads.
"Liore…"
I flinch and look up to Old Guard. "…yes?"
"Run."