Aren’s previous experience left a sour taste. For one, he almost died and almost went on to face Seto once again after fighting two wolves who would have probably shredded him to pieces if it weren’t for his current stat boost. He was also blackmailed to do the whole ordeal before this whole mess happened by Stan, the cunning old bastard who had already successfully made it to Aren’s hate list. But probably the greatest reason, is that he cannot remember anything during the time he passed out.
Normally, this would be just pushed aside like any other irrelevant thoughts in Aren. He actually thought that it was just a bad dream that he most likely forgot. However, a bad dream shouldn’t have left within him a feeling of uncertainty, anger, frustration, and self-deprecating amusement. Dread slowly filled his mind, subconsciously telling him that there is something wrong with him, but he can never tell what. Its pulling him in the back of his mind, yet he can do nothing about it. Bearing it was all he could do, but not a tiny bit is he getting used to it.
“Ar you okay?”
Misha dutifully held his left arm, the signs of wounds he received from the attack still there. The lacerated skin was obvious, as well as the fleshy open wound that Misha tried her best to avoid. For now though, she looked at Aren as he grimaced from his thoughts, worried that her healing is somewhat getting less effective. Although it wasn’t the case, the fact that she is running low on mana was enough of an evidence for her claim.
“No.” Aren said bluntly.
Misha straightened he back a little, looking apologetic for some reason.
“I’m shorry, I’ll try to hweal yo fast-”
“Nah, I’m just kidding.” He cut her off, smugly looking at Misha’s pouting face.
Misha then just refused to look at Aren and focused on healing him instead. Aren got a good chuckle out of that, but it didn’t mean that he was actually okay. In fact, he’s far from it in both body and mind, but chose to pretend otherwise for the sake of Misha. On a side note, this was a pretty good chance for him to check out Misha’s stats after being curious on how he got her healing magic.
General Info Name: Misha Joman Affiliation: None Level: 4 Age: 5 Gender: Female
Jobs Villager Apothecary
Health: 18/18 Mana: 34/68 (-2 /s) Fame: 41 Experience Points: 74
Strength: 5 Vitality: 5 Endurance: 7 Agility: 4 Dexterity: 6 Perception: 4 Intelligence: 27 Wisdom: 9 Fortitude: 11 Charm: 8 Faith: 42 Luck: 19
Jack's Eye is now Level 2!
Info screen now shows more status screens
Jack's Eye may now be used on items
Well that was the shittiest timing Aren has ever seen. The current Jack’s Eye could’ve been very useful on gauging the wolves and would’ve allowed him to pick out the wolfs to fight on. Instead, it only became convenient when it wasn’t needed at all. Sometimes Aren wishes that his luck wouldn’t be so bad, and it would’ve saved him a lot of trouble. Nevertheless, what is done is done.
According to Misha’s screen, she inherited her mother’s Apothecary job which is surely where her healing came from, knowing that Villager is probably more work oriented than healing. Though it seems like the apothecary’s healing is largely inefficient, seeing that Misha’s mana is being continuously drained but Aren’s health is not at at all improving that much. If he were to guess, Misha cannot heal his arm completely and which he thinks would really suck.
It’s been a few minutes since Aren woke up with Misha still continuing to heal his wound. The basket that spilled the herbs earlier is now beside them, the herbs being used as another fuel for Misha’s healing skill. Apparently, Misha’s healing is called “Herbal Imbue”, which allows her to turn herbs into mana that has the effects of the herbs used for healing. A convenient skill for apothecaries that doesn’t have time to properly apply the herbs. With the kinds Misha picked up however, it’s suffice to say that it wasn’t doing very good at all. She had already used the only herb that’s potent at healing wounds. Now she only has herbs that disinfects, with not much for healing wounds. At least she’s keeping the wounds free of infection.
Speaking of healing, what would happen if he came back home with this kind of injury? Scoldings and beating probably, but rivers of tears most likely. A lot will happen, that’s for sure. He could always blame Stan for all of this, but that would cause more harm than good since Stan have a good grip on him and all. Sometimes he wished that luck would take his side every once in a while.
“I see you survived. Well done.”
Stan reveals himself by stepping out of a nearby bush, startling both of the little children before Aren snapped at him.
“You’re late!” he barked.
“Well, I did have something else to do.”
“But I almost died!”
Stan paused.
“But you are alive, are you not? That’s what matters.”
“I ALMOST DIED!” Aren reiterated in anger and frustration.
But before Aren could could lash out anymore, he clumsily caught something thrown by Stan at him and upon closer look, it was a vial with red liquid in it. It was a health potion judging from how similar it is from the ones he saw on video games and such. Aren gave him a suspicious look.
“It’s a health potion, if you are wondering.” Stan explained.
“I know. Why?”
“I was originally there to look after you while your parents talked. It would be a problem if I bring you back looking like that, wouldn’t it?”
Of course, it wasn’t in regards of his actual health. Aren figured out as much, so he sighed in defeat then chugged the potion without knowing what it tasted like. It tasted horrible.
“Blegh.”
In an instant, Aren suddenly feels better as his wounds recover. The wound on his left arm regenerated and healed up completely without leaving a scar. His hands ran through his left arm to confirm what he’s seeing, baffling both Misha and Aren at seeing the potion at work for the first time. They both got distracted for a while, pinching and caressing Aren’s arm as if it was some kind of divine artifact handed down to man.
“I take it that you are okay now?” asked Stan.
Aren glared at him as he stood up, making Misha support his weight with how he still feels sore and weak. The potion may have healed his wounds, but it apparently didn’t heal his body and mental stress. Aren took a deep breath, closed his eyes and huffed through his nose. Stan already knows where this is going, so he just casually stroked his beard in anticipation. Aren finally opened his eyes while pointing up a finger.
“First of all, why did you bring me to the wolves? You even got Misha included! And we’re both little kids! Who does that?” he said while gesturing his hands wildly.
The old twig chuckled, agitating Aren even more.
“I only wanted you to escort the package, Misha, out of the forest-”
“Wait, the package was Misha?”
“...and I didn’t send the wolves in, nor did I know they were coming to your way.” he continued, ignoring Aren’s remark.
Stan was lying of course. He knew full well that Misha was in danger and that she’s not going to make it. Rather than going in himself however, he wanted to see Aren’s capabilities and so sent him out on a seemingly harmless errand of finding a package to bring back. He then watched the entire endeavor in the town center on his mental radar, tracking Aren, Misha, and the wolves. He did started to go to Aren when he was on the brink of flickering out of his radar and actually almost dashed like hell when he faded completely, but changed his mind when Aren suddenly lit up in his radar again.
A peculiar event for sure, since Stan has never experienced someone dying then suddenly living again in his entire life. Not only did this aggravate his interest on Aren, but it also made him worried. Disturbed even. The only things he knew of that could do such a feat were the undead and no other else. He thought that Misha may have resurrected him as some kind of prodigy, but he knew it was impossible because she is an Apothecary. Apothecaries were only meant to heal minor to medium injuries and he knows sure as heck that death isn’t a “minor” thing.
If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.
He’s probably overthinking this. His radar isn’t exactly the most reliable in keeping track of anyone’s health as it only shows living beings as specks and dots of green or red light. The only indication of low health is their lights either fading or flickering, thinking the latter may be the reason for his light blanking out for a while.
As for why he didn’t take action until now, there was some sense of confidence and gut feeling that Stan felt when Aren started confronting the wolves. As if he knew Aren’s going to be alive no matter what. Stupid reason, he knows, but he was somehow correct. However, being correct only made him even more worried. It meant Aren is more than another "chosen one" by the god of creation. This gave him a feeling of uncertainty whether Aren was in his capability, or that he'll be too much to handle. But worrying over such things would be a little stupid. After all, what was the point of making him his disciple if it were not to pave the road for him? And somewhat manipulate him, but that's besides the point.
“Okay, secondly,” Aren continued on. “Why didn’t you just do it yourself? With that much jobs in your arsenal, I doubt that the wolves will even have a chance against you.”
“I’m too old for this.” Stan said, chuckling.
“Bullshit.” Aren retorted.
Misha gasped in exasperation on Aren’s remark.
“Aren! Langwage!”
“Oh come on Misha. This will be one of the many times you’ll hear me like this in the future, so get used to it.”
Misha puffed her cheeks and considered dropping him, but continued to support his weight anyway. She isn’t a meanie, unlike a certain someone. Stan gestured for the children to go towards the town and stepped aside for them to go on.
“You first.”
Both of the children felt relief with this being finally over. No more wolves threatening their lives, and they are going to finally back in their homes. Aren is still bothered by what he doesn’t remember earlier, but he’s pretty sure it will be gone with a good sleep. At least what he felt back then is subsiding. That gave him reassurance since he doesn't know how much more stress he can handle.
Stan stayed behind for a while, looking at the corpses of the wolves. Both of the children managed to endure the sight of their mangled corpses and the smell of exposed flesh, making him feel somewhat proud on the both of them. In reality though, both of them avoided their gaze on the corpses and almost threw up with how horrible the stench was, but they thankfully managed to keep their breakfast in their stomach.
But Stan is not here for that. He’s here on briefly investigating why the wolves were so close to the outskirts of the forest. They went out of their way to go this far, not mentioning that they attacked at broad daylight. Heisen wolves are known to be nocturnal cousins of regular wolves and lived near at the core of the woods, yet the lesser counterparts ended up here. The only reason that they would be doing this would be because of desperation which concerned him greatly. The forest is safe in his standards being that they are weak enough for his village to fend off for themselves, so there shoudn’t be anything that would drive the heisen wolves off. The food is also abundant, so it shouldn’t be an issue of hunger.
Stan makes his way back to the children, leaving the scene behind. Whatever that drove them here, he hopes that it would not find its way to his village.
Norman comes out from his humble abode, meeting Stan, Misha, and Aren going to his way. He gave Stan a suspicious look as he approached the trio. Misha was not supporting Aren anymore as he stopped for Norman’s patting on his head. Norman looked at Misha with a smile.
“Did you play with Aren?” he asked.
“Y-yeah! We had fuhn.”
Stan instructed the two back at the forest to keep the incident a secret, or else the three of them will have to deal with troublesome interrogations and long-term grounding. Although Misha could barely keep an innocent faced, she is known to be an honest girl so Norman didn’t doubt her as much.
“Yeah dad. Grandpa Stan was there to look out for us.”
Stan stroked his beard with a grin as he met Norman’s glare.
“You did ask me to look out for your son, no?”
Norman sighed and motioned for Aren to go inside and gave Misha permission to go inside as well, with both going. Norman shifted his attention to Stan, serious and undeterring.
“You did nothing suspicious, did you?”
Norman expected some kind of retort, but Stan just laughed it out.
“18 years we’ve been in this village together, and you still don’t trust me.”
Norman wasn’t pleased. Stan calmed down after a few seconds then cleared his throat.
“Of course not.” he assured.
Norman doubted him for a moment, but his child didn’t have any obvious injuries or stress, so it should be fine. He may be a bit biased against Stan, but he admits that Stan can be really reliable when he puts his mind into it.
“Are you going to tell Aren?” Stan asked, surprising Norman. “I know that you didn’t want him to hear, but it’s bound to be revealed sooner or later. I’m sure you know that.”
Stan gave Norman a pause. Norman looked down at the ground, uncertain and conflicted. He swore to never leave his son’s side, but he also didn’t want him to be grievously sad. His heart aches just thinking about what might happen if he told him. But all of this was already considered earlier before he reached a decision.
“No.” he said. “Not now, not yet like we agreed upon.”
Stan momentarily gave it a thought, before sighing and shaking his head. Norman arched his eyebrow at him, daring him to say anything.
“You are still like that, huh?” The madman. “But it is not my place to judge, nor decide. If you feel like this is the best, then so be it.”
With that, Stan slowly walked away towards his own home, but not before saying something else.
“And oh, your son has agreed upon my tutelage.”
Norman’s eye opened wider than an owl’s from his statement, then childishly threw out wild gestures and yelled at Stan.
“You old prick! How dare you not ask me for permission! Stan! STAAAAAAN!”
But it was too late. Stan was already cackling and treading away, leaving Norman in his self-imposed tantrum.
Inside the Montrea household was Martha talking to both Aren and Misha after hearing Norman’s yell outside. They sat in the dining room, chatting over the table
“Sheesh, he’s really loud when it comes to Stan. Really now.” Martha said with a sigh.
Martha talked about the dangers of the forest in the east and how they are lucky to be able to explore it a bit because of Stan. She warned them that even though the forest seemed interesting for them, they must never go in without the guidance of an adult. Misha, having going in the forest without permission alone, was guilty of that. She tried her best to hide the fact that she went in alone, but Martha already knew from how her gaze averted her own and her cold sweat dripping from her paled face.
“Misha, honey, did you go there alone?”
Misha jolted up, confirming Martha’s suspicions.
“H-huh? N-no, I didn’t auntie.”
“Hmmm? Really?” Martha asked with a hint of teasing in her tone.
“Yeah right. You were lucky grandpa Stan and I ran unto you, or else the forest monsters would’ve eaten you!” Aren teased.
Aren then imitated a wolf by putting his hands up in the air, looking like he would grab Misha. Misha retaliated by repeatedly and harmlessly pounding on Aren’s shoulder while puffing her cheeks, but Aren’s condition made him pretend to laugh at her attack while he internally screams in pain from his body’s soreness. He mustn’t let Martha know that he’s feeling more sore than earlier. Martha, not knowing the whole situation, modestly laughed along with Aren’s teasing. She then motioned them to stop.
“Misha, I won’t be reporting this to your mother this time, but there won’t be anymore second chances okay? You musn’t step foot on the forest alone ever again. Do you understand?”
Misha dropped her gaze down on the floor.
“Yesh, auntie.”
Aren noticed that Norman suddenly became quiet outside. He was just throwing verbal insults at Stan earlier, but he just stopped abruptly without any signs of slowing down. Just as Aren was about to say something, the door opened with Cecil wearing an annoyed expression mixed with frustration and worry. Aren immediately knew Misha was in trouble.
“Misha! You went in the forest alone, didn’t you?!”
“Wah?! N-no I did not!”
“You took my book of medicine and basket. Don’t tell me you didn’t take those for a skip in the forest.”
Misha turned to Aren, hoping that he would save her from the wrath of her mother. He looked away. She then turned to Martha in the verge of tears, hoping she would save her. She looked away as well. No one was on her side, after all, her mother is already looking like a monster from the abyss.
“Explain yourself young lady.” Cecil demanded, her tone frightening even Martha.
Misha fidgeted on her seat in fear, not knowing what to say.
“I… jusht wanted to hewlp yo mom…” she bagan, letting whatever she thinks run out of her mouth.
Cecil’s face eased as Misha began her explanation.
“Yo hab been working hard fow me, even sleeping on the tabel. So, I, uhhh…” Misha averted her eyes towards the floor, her voice getting lower and lower. “I taught I should at list pick sum herbs to help yo a bit. I guesh it’s too much…”
Misha cluthed her dress and closed her eyes in anticipation. Her mother have never hit her before, but she isn’t so sure that it would remain that way right now. She disobeyed her mother’s warning, and even got herself in trouble just because she wanted to make her happy. She didn’t even count the fact that if she died back there, her mother would’ve been devastated. Everything she did, would’ve been for naught. Misha then suddenly got a warm embrace from her mother, surprising her.
“Oh Misha, you didn’t have to.” Cecil said. “I’m already happy enough that you’re here with me.”
Both Martha and Aren watched as Misha hugged her mother back, nodding her head. Once the hugging was over, Misha was still not out of trouble yet. Right after she let go of Misha, Cecil immediately pinched her cheeks, making Misha flail her arms in pain. Misha was then dragged out of the house as she begged for mercy, her voice slowly getting mroe faint as they move farther into the town center. Aren and Martha just watched, not wanting to do anything with how angry Cecil was.
“Whew, I thought she was going to get wild in the house.” Norman said as he walked in the house. “She looked like a demon when she asked me where Misha is. She look kinda like you Martha-”
“What?!” Martha raised from her seat aggressively with a glare.
Aren knew from that moment that his father screwed up.
“N-no! I mean, when you look like a demon, you look beau-”
It seems those were the wrong words, since Martha suddenly rushed at Norman at full speed. Despite Norman’s clear physical advantage, he was no match for the wrath of his wife who was continuously chasing him around the house. Despite the ridiculousness, Aren oddly feels warm and comfortable. He feels home despite having lived in the house for only three days. Certainly an improvement of his perspective from first he came here. However, his previous experiences just made it clear to him that not always will his life here be this laid-back. He reluctantly prayed to Seto for a good luck blessing, seeing how random things just gets in his way in some way or another. Contemplating his future amidst the lovebirds was the only thing he could do for now.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie! Honey! Sugarcoat!" Norman desperately said, trying to get Martha off his tail.
"You'll be sorry once I haul your ass out of here!" Martha declared, ferociously chasing down his husband surprisingly without breaking anything in the house.
For now though, the future can wait. Aren willingly prayed to Seto for the two to just stop already. He already had enough of the romcom show these two are playing.