After receiving his first payment and reprimand ever at the guild, Kashan followed Tuscae into a small meeting room to discuss Kashan’s future activities. Though Tuscae had a listless and apathetic impression at the front desk, he was far more professional behind closed doors.
“Alright Kashan-” he wheezed as he slammed a stack of loose documents and scrolls onto the knee-high table between their seats.”Today, we’re taking a bit of a detour from normal operations. This is a good thing for you. You’ll rise the ranks faster if you continue to prove yourself.”
Kashan leaned forward, grimacing at the mountain of ink-stained, unorganized papers. He doesn’t remember doing paperwork, but the pile made his skin crawl regardless. “What does this detour entail?” he asked, sorting similar documents almost absentmindedly. “Is it because of my skills? Lack thereof?”
“Actually, it’s your lack of a record,” He said, chuckling triumphantly as he pulled the one file he actually wanted from the pile. “Here at the Slayer’s Guild, we dole out requests for folk who can't or won’t do it themselves. Common folk, merchants, nobles, the like.” Kashan nods, setting aside two sorted piles of documents and beginning on a third. Tuscae continues, “Sometimes, we get outliers like yourself. Good fighters, but no experience working with us. Problem is, your combat strength outweighs those of similar experience, and we don’t want warped expectations. Gets people killed. Our solution, barebones as it is, is to get people of similar strength together, and send them on chaperoned missions,” occasionally pulling other files out from the ever-shortening mountain.
“I fall under this outlier category due to-”
“The fat lizard. They’re called Lesser Flood Drakes. Around here, we call them Swamp Drakes, since they like, and often cause, formations of swamps to use as nesting grounds. From your description, the one you had was female, in the middle of germinating its young, and highly territorial. Since you brought back its tail, we know that any eggs it lays won’t have enough nutrients since those’ll be rerouted to regenerate that tail. If you didn’t kill it like you said, that means no carcass for scavengers that’ll attract bigger predators. An accidentally great job you did, boy. Might even have a follow-up.” Tuscae slips another document out of the pile and places it in front of Kashan to see. It was the supposed follow-up request, pending approval.
“What would this require of us?” Kashan asked, looking for any fine print that might bite him later.
“Eggs,” Tuscae replied.
“Eggs?” Kashan asked.
“Eggs,” Tuscae repeated.
“Eggs…” Kashan repeated with mild concern.
“They taste great. Nobles’ll pay a manor and a half for a clutch their chefs can use,” Tuscae explained, pointing at the wet ink on a document that seemed to add more and more zeros over time. “With a royal birthday banquet up and coming, there’re nobles aplenty trying to cozy up to the birthday boy, Sellmur.”
Kashan has no idea who in the sun’s shade that is. When he was brought back to life, the woman never explained how long “an age” was, so he had no reference of how outdated his knowledge was. He could only nod and ask, “So we are to obtain the eggs from its nest? Should be simple enough.”
Tuscae sighs and places a hand on Kashan’s shoulder while brandishing a knowing, apologetic, yet sarcastic smile. “Should.”
Kashan raised an eyebrow at Tuscae’s sudden penchant for suspense, motioning with an open hand as he said, “Out with it, already.”
Tuscae explained, “See, Swamp Drakes are Drakes, and Drakes have a decent memory. Our couriers for the eggs need time to extract the eggs it has hidden under swamp water. It’s a precise and slow process, so-”
“I’m bait.”
“I would say distraction. Bait gets eaten.”
“How is this a good test of my abilities?”
Tuscae smiles and points at a wall behind him. It was adorned with plaques of established slayers. Parties of slayers. “You don’t know how to work in a group, do you?”
Kashan thought back on the memories he’d still had, replaying with, “Who are you to say I don’t work well with-”
“On record,” Tuscae interjected, smiling wider as he wiggled his finger.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Kashan sighs and drags his palms downward across his face, asking a new question as he huffs indignantly.“So nobles get eggs, I get a commission for my services, you and the guild get something similar… Is that it?”
Tuscae adds one last benefit, “The prestige. You saw the village outside, obviously. We’re trying to get ‘Town’ status as soon as possible. Hopefully before the next winter sets in.”
“The benefit?”
“You see, a ‘Village’ is heavily tax exempted to support its growth. That’s why a lot of small-time merchants will make the grand journey to villages all over to peddle their wares. A ‘Town’ gains a noticeable uptick in taxes, but in exchange receives direct support. Emergency supplies, guards funded by the country, military aid in times of strife-”
“And you want to guarantee your supplies will be supplemented and the territory defended should a winter raid arise?”
“That is the objective Mayor Atmos placed upon my shoulders.” As a last addition to appeal to Kashan’s sense of duty, Tuscae grips both of Kashan’s pauldrons and shakes him slightly for emphasis. “I need fighters like you to ensure this goes well.”
“Fine. I agree-” Or at least he would have, but was stopped by a palm in front of his face.
“There’s still time. Maybe a week or so before the eggs are buried. I’ll have a proper contract ready for you within a couple days or so. In the meantime, I’d like for you to meet your future comrades.” Tuscae hands Kashan three of the collected documents, surprised at how easily he was able to see his mood gladen.
As Kashan left the meeting room, he allowed a singular word to roll about his mind. Comrades. Comrades. He’s had many comrades. Some lost to battle, others to age. The rest lived long enough to leave service and stay with their families. To have comrades again swelled his soldier’s heart as he searched for an inn to spend the night. Once he found one near the town’s southern entrance and rented a room, he stored the documents in a provided nightstand and recalled the woman’s agreement: “I will allow a few years of memory at a time… Through your dreams…” Kashan decided to rest.
[Vessel Connection Initialized…]
[Memory Integrity Compromised. Discrepancies Detected… Overridden.]
[Initializing Memory…]
Kashan sat beneath a tree in a clearing he recognized. The woman stood beside him, as a humanoid this time instead of the haze. Before him was himself, but younger. Fourteen winters, maybe. He was working in the rain with the hot air bleeding through his uniform despite the rain and fog. The two who’d been standing by the younger Kashan were a messy blur at first, but they became vivid as he heard their voices.
“Squire Telkarov,” the man called out, a neutral expression painted across his face like a paper mask.
“I am hard at work in my tasks, Legate Vilmur. Do not mind me,” Kashan replied, shoveling rhythmically carving dirt out of a pile to pour onto an abyssal ooze. His face was just as bare, no emotion present save for the occasional grunt of effort with each shovelful.
“It is urgent. I wish to speak with you of yesterday's events. I want to hear it from you to clear any discrepancies.” Legate Vilmur, a tall male with antlers that arched forward, kneeled beside the younger Kashan as he spoke. “Yesterday, you were asked to corral the children into a safe location during the siege.”
“That is correct, sir. I led them to the basement of the town hall, as it was made primarily of stone and reinforced with beams.”
“That is good, I commend you on your quick thinking,” he said, voice gentle and serene as a spell began to form in the hand that now rested on the young Kashan’s shoulder. “Twenty minutes into the siege, the front line had moved south, encompassing the town hall. You received new orders to escort them to another building. What happened?”
[Ignoring your memories is the same as running from them, Commander.]
Kashan’s shovel seemed stuck in the dirt as he froze. He stared intently into the soil, either unwilling or unable to move for a full minute until he began his shoveling again. “I failed, sir.”
“You did not fail, you were given defective orders from another superior officer,” the Legate said, gently shaking Kashan’s shoulder. Neither of their expressions changed, but his voice seemed to be pleading.
“With all due respect sir, orders or not, they were my responsibility,” was the delivered response, again with no change to his expression even when his voice began to crumble.
“It was not your responsibility alone. We were handed this responsibility.” The other figure’s voice caused the blur to focus, revealing a man covered in patches of scales where his arms and legs were exposed. He walked to Kashan’s left and slowly pulled the shovel away from his hands with little resistance.“This grim task is a burden we share. I ask that you allow me my part in it.”
[Discrepancies Isolated. Verifying Integrity…]
There was no rain. There was no fog. The sun was warm and welcoming. The Legate’s expression was stern and flooded with worry. The lizardman’s was a smile that tried to comfort rather than exude joy. Kashan… The boy was covered in injuries, the tears in his uniform sharing places with bandages, now red from reopened wounds. His expression was a mixture of wrath and woe. Kashan weeped. They both did.
[Memory Integrity Verified.]
[Memory Synchronized.]
[You did your best, Commander.]