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Beam POV: Day 52

Current Wealth: 1 silver 47 copper

Talk to me, talk to me you fucking asshole of a voice , speak.

But it didn’t.

I’d been focusing- meditating, I should start calling it- for the better part of an hour since my friends left. An hour to myself, with no distractions, no inconveniences, no danger or pressure or pain. And in that hour I’d accomplished nothing.

It had seemed to me that it was becoming easier to speak with whatever entity now lived in my head, that it was growing more receptive, more open. Apparently I’d been wrong, because now I didn’t so much as feel a hint that there was anything even listening to me, let alone preparing an answer. It was as if…

…As if I was just a lunatic talking to himself. Well, too late for that, the time to avoid such an eventuality is before you start hearing voices answer back, not after. And these voices gave me provably real magic powers. So back to meditation I went.

A half hour, another hour, closing in on two. Finally the reply came.

Be silent, boy-creature, you are interrupting my rest.

I jumped almost out of my skin as the voice came out, then stiffened.

“Why haven’t you been talking to me?” I tried, hoping I’d actually get a response now. None came, and my anger boiled over. “Keep ignoring me and I’ll just keep on bugging you for a reply, you’ve seen me fight with a pint of blood sloshing around loose inside me, you know I’ll do it.”

A pause followed that, and then something that felt oddly like…An irritated sigh. I suppressed a grin.

I ought to ask you, failure, coward, why you are daring to inflict your conversation among me. I have nothing to give a wretch like you, and you have no right to expect anything.

That did give me pause, for quite a while. I thought, considered, then sighed.

“You’re angry I lost?” I frowned.

I am not angry, nor sad, nor disappointed. One does not feel such things over a flea. I am merely observing your failure and punishing you thusly.

That actually did piss me off. My failure? How had I failed?

You fell to your knees, surrendering, rather than fight an enemy right in front of you. The voice replied, answering my fleeting, sub-instinctual thoughts the way it knew I hated. I didn’t have time to be annoyed by the slight, though, because its actual words had hit the mark directly.

I had surrendered, hadn’t I? I could remember it all vividly. A gesture from the vampire, a big wave of light, and then…Then every doubt I had, every fear, every insecurity was a lead weight around me. Dragging me down, pinning me, crushing me.

My mouth dried, and I heard the presence speak again.

So you do feel shame, at least. Good. Bask in it, that will add to your deserved punishment. I had hoped any creature capable of being my vessel would be a warrior with a heart cast in iron, a mighty lion upon the battlefield. At the very least, your death will free me from this mewling kitten I have been placed within, instead.

There was a lot of information there, some given subtly, some just volunteered. I’m sure Xangô and Solitaire would’ve absorbed it all instantly, quickly making deductions and calculations, multiplying its volume through sheer weight of intellect to figure out every little thing about the presence. I wasn’t them, and I was in no state to even try and replicate their genius. All I could do was lower my head, and try to ignore the voice.

This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

Because everything it’d said was right.

I left the room trudging and bitter, making my way out of the building, hurrying to the training grounds. There was a magic monster in my head keeping me from spending experience and doing the one fucking thing I was good for, but if nothing else I could help the others replace me. How many villagers were there? Thirty or so, fighting at least. I was equal to maybe ten on my own. If I could make them all ten percent more effective, I’d at least have done a fraction of what I ought to.

My walk was interrupted as the Vittonian woman pulled in beside me, eying me sympathetically, seeming rather…Awkward. I ignored her anyway, in no mood for conversation.

“I’m here to apologise.” She said abruptly, which did draw my focus in, but barely. After my failure the day before, the thought of having people fawn over me was almost worse than derision.

“Consider it accepted.” I grunted, still heading for the trainees. She followed.

“I…Had quite a speech planned.” The Vit grumbled, suddenly put-out. I glanced her way and saw it wasn’t much more than skin deep.

“Sorry.” I sighed. “But…I’m really busy.”

In an instant she nodded, understanding blossoming upon her face.

“Of course, then let me just cut to the important part. I intend to help you from now on, fully and totally. I…See now that there actually is a chance to be had in fighting, so I intend to help fight.”

She already had, I recalled, put her own body on the line not twelve hours prior, fighting beside me, spearing holes in everything ahead like some hoplite plucked out of Greek myth. The thought of having more of that was definitely a reassuring one.

“That’s good.” I nodded, hiding my true eagerness, “But why are you following me now?”

The woman blinked, as if I’d just asked why the grass looked green.

“Because you’re going to train the defenders, many of which are using long pole weapons.” She glanced and removed the spear affixed to her back, toying with its weight in her deft hands. I saw now that it was a properly made one, a real, actual spear. Leaf-headed blade, six feet of handle at least. The sort of thing that might get punched into a person’s gut and still come out of his back with momentum to spare.

“And you’re shit at spear fighting.” She finished. I glared at her, thought for a moment, then grinned.

If she was good enough to notice that, she’d be good to have on our side, indeed.

Training went a lot smoother this time, for several reasons. The Vittonian was a big one. I still didn’t know who she was, why she was so far from her land of birth, and in a village like this. But I was starting to have my suspicions that she was running from something. Definitely, she’d been in the military before. Addressing the trainees like the drill sergeant in Full Metal Jacket, all commanding and overbearing, barking out orders so harshly that it seemed everyone was racing each other to accomplish them.

More than that, though, I was helped along by the trainees’ newfound…Worship.

Well, veneration might’ve been more accurate. All of them seemed to have gleaned the respect Xangô had hoped they would, and more. Viewing my brothers as some heaven-sent saviours, and viewing me in particular as a guardian angel. In their eyes I could do no wrong, make no errors, and lose no fight.

Apparently they’d forgotten the fucking fight I lost the night before.

It was a strange feeling, and the novelty took about a minute to wear off. Then all it was was…Suffocating.

I ignored it as best I could, focusing more tightly on the training, and finding myself pleased to see it progressing more quickly than before. Perhaps it was because I’d made a start already, maybe it was the full-on battle they’d finally had all gathered together. Being realistic, the Vittonian definitely didn’t hurt. Regardless of what the magic balance of causes was, by the time the sky was starting to darken, and we had about an hour more until night, we’d made a good leap forwards in cohesion, accuracy and resilience amongst them. Or so we thought, at least. The real test would be the next fight.

And it’d be one I faced without my magic.

“You’re nervous.”

I smashed my face into as neutral a shape as I could manage, then turned around. It was the Vit, of course, hanging back and eying me concerned.

“I’m fine.” I lied. “Just, you know, readying for the fight-”

“My name’s Helena.” She cut in, interrupting me calmly, casually. “You’re Beam, I know, but I’m Helena. I…Want you to know. In case I die. In case we all die.” She looked away, not meeting my eye. “In case I got everyone killed by not helping sooner, and just…Remaining trapped inside myself.”

I had no idea what to say to that, and in my awkwardness I just stared for a few moments more. Until she turned, clearing her throat and heading off.

“Well, anyway, I’m sorry for what it’s worth. Now let’s go and kill some rotters.”

That, at least, I could get behind. I followed after her.