Darkness, dreams, fear and aches were pervasive. It was all I knew for a long time, not nearly as long as when I was being reborn, so at least I knew, consciously, it wasn't overlong. The dreams were of my time so far in Ravos, of the forest I grew up near. Brioche, Luka, Sky. Maya, Ento and Ralphy. Leaving for an adventure. Finding a brief trist of romance with a young barmaid. I felt warm at the memory.
The battle with the bandits, where I first killed a man. After hearing Kristens story I no longer felt bad about their deaths, but I would remember them. Ten, that was how many people I had killed thus far. Eleven if that woman bled out. Gods, as horrible as it sounded I hoped she would bleed to death.
The next dream was fighting the wyrm, feeling largely useless until a moment rose up in which I could help. The lightning bolt that rained down on it and spread through its scales over the water I had sprayed over it. Intercepting Liana before the acid breath could wash over her, before it could disfigure her. The rush of energy as Adrien and Elric were able to kill it.
The last big dream was the night when Adrien confessed. And where I confessed back. I still wasn’t sure if that was the right choice, but there was a voice in my head that wanted to trust them. That wanted confidants. A portion of my subconscious that needed that feeling of trust in others. And a logical part telling me that they’d eventually find out when I arrived at the capitol. Still, I worried in my dreams about them betraying me in some capacity. They knew about my seed, provided by that insane god. They knew about my reincarnation, again provided by an unknown insane god. They knew of my powers, skills, my class that the system itself deemed as very dangerous.
Behind the dreams, positive though they were, fear and anxiety washed over me. Fear that I had returned to the afterlife. Miamora hadn’t said it was always white and neverending, perhaps a portion of it was this blackness. Perhaps these memories were my final death throes and I was allowed to remember them this time. I couldn’t recall seeing anything like this before. Deep within, I anguished over the fact that I hadn’t truly accomplished anything in this life either, that it had been wasted as the previous one had been.
Before long, however, my lamentation ended as I remembered my final moments. The fight with the woman with the dagger, the puppetmaster as it were. I frowned as I remembered the fight, remembered the final moments of it when she fled and the ritual was disrupted. I remembered her severing my arm, the pain inhibited by the lightning mana coursing through me.
I remembered the foxes fighting alongside me, helping me. The desperate, fearful attempt to stop her, to slay her before she could slaughter the weak mortals in the longhouse. The agreement of mutual destruction as she was held in place by Lukas magic and I sped forward to impale her heart, her own blade coming towards my throat. We both dodged the would be fatal blows, but not without sustaining serious injury. Injury that should be, as far as I knew, unfixable with magic without broaching prohibitive costs. I could still easily recall the feeling of her dagger shattering the bones in my arm as it tore through the muscles, severing it. I could still feel the pressure of her own ribs cracking under the point of the Promenade.
And then, she fled. With my damn sword. And I collapsed, without an arm. Unconsciously, I raised my left hand and went to touch my face with it. The strain was unbelievable. It felt like my arm was stuck in honey and I had just spent hours the day before working them out. My muscles pulsed and cramped up, but not before I realized there was no hand. My arm moved as intended but nothing reached my face. At least, for a moment, until something warm and furry beside me moved and a wet tongue lapped at my cheek. Another warm spot on my chest wriggled about, and a second tongue found my chin.
My foxes were okay... I was alive. I survived.
“Papa,” the sound came from inside my own head, from the connection with Luka. It was cacophonous, reminding me of the worst hangover I’d ever had. The one the morning following my twenty first birthday, when Aaron had made it a point to feed me a half dozen long island ice teas while Zach pushed shots of peppermint schnapps into my hands. By some miracle, likely due to me vomiting a dozen times after, I remembered the night fairly clearly. Or perhaps it was simply due to [Distant Recollections].
Before I responded to Luka, I felt a connection full of trepidation come from Sky. “Big Brother, Awake? Awake?” She asked nervously. Her tongue traveled over my chin in concern and excitement and nerves.
Between the both of them I could feel a number of emotions. Fear, anxiety, worry. But more than those I felt some that nearly broke my heart. Regret, guilt, anger and even self loathing from both of them followed by a determination. A determination to ensure they can save me the next time, that they would fight beside me. That the enemy would not harm me so.
I slowly blinked open my eyes, instantly filling me with regret as the light flooding in from the open shudder causes me to wince. I instinctively raise my right arm, almost lazily, causing pain and aches to terrorize my already aching body. With my eyes covered and eyes squinted I look at the two foxes, a soft smile brushing across my lips. “I’m awake... Where are we?”
My voice was strained and hoarse, and my throat was dry and itchy. As my voice rasped out I fell into a coughing fit, each cough hurting more than the last. Quickly tears dribble out from the edges of my eyes and one rolls down my cheek.
“Papa! You're awake! Papa is awake!” Luka’s high pitched childlike voice wormed its way into my head once more as he excitedly lapped at my face, unable to control the waves of joy and relief that rolled off of him.
“Big Brother! You're alive!” Sky, at the same time, exclaimed with a furious giggle. She frantically sniffed at my face even as she licked it, confirming the state of my aliveness.
I chuckled softly as I attempted to push myself into a seated position. I moved to lift off with both hands but stumbled slightly as the left arm fell short. Just as I moved to try again I heard the door open with a soft squeak, and see some crimson eyes and a pale face peer through the crack. The eyes widened excitedly, and Amelia pushed the door the rest of the way open and steps in.
“He really is awake everyone!” Her voice was a sweet explosion to my ears, causing me to wince as I failed to push myself up a second time and gave up, resigning to lie there. The other three quickly staggered into the small room, with Liana taking the seat next to the bed, the only chair in the room. Amelia sat at the foot of the bed as Adrien and Elric stood to the side.
For the first time I took a brief moment to take in the small room. It reminded me of a nicer room at an inn, with a nightstand beside the bed and some flowers sitting atop it. My bag was near the door, sealed and closed. I tried once more to lift myself up and Adrien reached out to help me sit up. Flashing him a grateful smile I reached over to grab the water but before I could Liana lifted it up and brought it to my mouth, slowly raising it. I took several long, deep gulps. The feeling of the ice cold water hitting my empty stomach made me realize just how hungry I was.
“Hey Lios, how are you feeling?” Amelia asked once Liana set the half full glass back down, her voice soft and shaky. She gave me a half smile as I turned towards her. I attempted to shrug halfheartedly only to wince slightly.
“I feel like I was hit by a train...” I grumbled. Confusion flashed across everyone's faces and I let out a soft chuckle. “Sorry, a fast moving carriage. I hurt a lot. But I’m okay, I’m alive.”
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I caught Adrien glancing down at my stump worryingly. “Listen Lios, I’m sorry - “
“What have you to apologize for, Adrien? I’m alive. What happened to the people in town after I passed out?” I interrupted then diverted the conversation. I didn’t want to hear about how much they regretted letting me enter this conflict, or that they thought it would've been better had I stayed behind. Whats done was done, nothing to do with it now. Besides, who was to say what would have happened to the innocents if I hadn’t intervened.
It looked like Adrien was going to try to apologize again but thankfully Elric stepped up. “We drove off the cultists, although we have yet to determine the reason for their being there. Overall, around five thousand four hundred people survived. A bit more than seven thousand died, and a few hundred escaped to seek refuge in Ironfell.” He said stoically before his lips spread into a shit eating grin. “By the way, a few of the gals in the longhouse watched your fight through the windows and even opened the door. They're calling you a hero now, guess you got a fan club.”
Liana smacked him lightly, admonishing him. “Elric, thats not important right now - “
“I wish it were under better circumstances that I could earn that title, but I’m glad so many made it out.” I sighed with relief. It broke my heart that so many perished, of course, but in the face of tragedy, I chose to try to look towards the sunrise rather than the sunset. “How long... how long was I unconscious. Did I miss the festival?”
Amelia burst out laughing. I glanced at her confused but Liana, a smirk on her face, answered instead. “Lios its only been two days. You have plenty of time to prepare for the tournament, should you still wish to compete.”
“Actually, before we talk about all dat, we need to tell you our plan. We four are joining the investigatory squad in trying to find these damn villains, we were set to leave tomorrow regardless if you woke up or not, but since you're awake we will leave shortly. You are going to rest, recover, and learn how to fight with one arm.” Adrien intoned in a commandeering voice, leaving no room for disagreement. “Unfortunately... I don’t believe you can survive where we must go just yet, besides you need to prepare for the festival I’m sure.”
Before I had any chance to reply, a burly dwarf with a scraggly unkept brown beard stepped into the room. Contrasting his magnificent beard, his head shone with reflected light. His chainmaille armor jangled and the hammer at his hip clanged against it. He was only about two thirds of Adriens height, making him significantly shorter than Elric, but he looked a mighty warrior.
“Pardon the interruption, but I heard the boy has woken up?” his voice was deep and powerful. It commanded us to listen to it. The adventurers with me all nodded and glanced toward me as he turned in my direction as well. I could faintly smell the remnants of smoke coming from him, not campfire but more akin to tobacco. I noticed a pipe resting at his side, held to his body by the belt that held his hammer.
“I have, and who might you be?” I tilted my head in curiosity. “Also, sorry, what do I gotta do to get a little grub. I feel like I could eat a whole delogia.”
“Aye, I can do that for ye.” The dwarf turned and called out of the room in a bellowing voice, “Oy, ye laggards, bring a pint of mead and some grub up fer the boyo!”
His voice rang in my ears, my skull pounded as the pressure built up within it. I closed my eyes for a moment until the pain of the sudden loud noise faded away and when I opened them again I saw the others staring at me. “I’m okay, just a headache. If we could not yell that’d be wondrous.”
Amelia’s eyes flashed towards the dwarf in derision, but he let out a soft chuckle in response. “Aye, sorry about that lad. M’name’s Perry, I’m the guildmaster for this ‘ere ‘venturer hall. While we wait fer food I need ta ask you a few questions. Some privacy, please?”
The others moved to stand up and leave, a flash of concern in their eyes as they shared a glance with me. I nodded after a moments hesitation. I waited as they each sauntered out of the small room and Perry came to sit in the chair beside me. He withdrew a small spherical crystal and a stone tablet from a pouch on the opposite hip as his hammer and set them down on the nightstand. After that he pulled out a thick looking pouch that jangled when he moved it, sounding of coin.
“Right, so, first matter of business. Tell me your part in the play at Linden.” He leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he stared at me intently.
I gulped slightly, then reached and took another drink of water with a shaky hand. He made no move to help me lift the glass to my lips and I was grateful for it, I didn’t need a stranger to pity me. “My part? I communicated with my companions to find a clear route to the longhouse. There were two groups of guards, two at the front and two at the rear entrances. It seemed the cultists were taking the hostages somewhere and it was clearly not for anything positive, so I killed the four guards before they could react to me. After that, three more appeared, one who seemed slightly stronger, but I easily dispatched them as well.
“That was when an eighth enemy appeared. Like the others she wore a mask, and seemed to be a puppetmaster of some kind. I believe she had some sort of beguiling spell or ability as well as one that let her create puppet strings out of mana. She used the strings to try to use the corpses to fight me, but I was able to cut them and then burn the bodies so she could no longer control them. After that she and I entered a melee. When Liana succeeded in disrupting the ritual, she was distracted so I took a moment to try to end her life but she managed to dodge and counter me in that same moment.”
I lifted up my left arm, showing the stump of flesh that was currently wrapped in gauze a few inches below my elbow. Of course, I wasn't positive that it was Liana that cleared the ritual, but I knew she was the only one in our group beside me with any knowledge of runes and wizardry, so it was a fair guess. As I told the story succinctly, without leaving out any major details, I watched Perry carefully. He may have been the guild leader for this branch, but I was unsure how far the puppetmasters reach may have extended. Based on the fragments of the ritual that I had seen, the cult had to have been in Linden for quite some time. Who was to say some higher ups were not involved in that massacre.
“I see. If ye could provide any further details on her that would be wondrous. We already suspect someone specific, as her class seems to be fairly rare, but more details never hurt.” The guild leaders beard and mustache rustle slightly as his expression changes from something dour to something more pleasant. “Now, let us get into the next thing. Your status as an adventurer. Your friends have already filled me in on your intent to become one and to compete in the upcoming tournament. I assume that losing a silly little hand has not shaken that resolve?”
I was a bit shocked at his forwardness, and after a few moments to recover I found he was staring at me waiting for an answer. I simply nodded at him, a bit frustrated that he was trivializing the loss of my arm. Before he could say anything more the door creaked open and a woman wearing an outfit one might find at a renaissance faire tavern stepped in with a cloche and a tankard of mead. She quickly dropped them both off on the nightstand, bowed, then stepped out and closed the door behind her. I turned my attention to the cloche and frowned, knowing I wouldn’t be able to carry it to my lap alone. Rather than ask Perry for his help, I mentally asked Sky if she could move it to my lap on a bed of air or wind. She quickly did so, and I could tell through our connection that she was all too eager to help me in my recovery. To feel useful.
“Go on, take a few bites, my next few questions can wait till you have something in your gut.” Perries gruff voice broke me from my thoughts as I lifted the lid of the cloche, and the smell of a hearty stew like my mother frequently made wafted through the room.
I wasted no time grabbing the bread and dipping it into the stew, taking a deep breath of the scalding food. I ate in silence for several minutes, each bite giving me a small amount more of strength that had left me over the past few days I was comatose. Before long the food was gone, and I was taking a long satisfying sip of the cold mug of mead. The metal tankard was heavy but just light enough for my strained muscles to lift to my lips. The dwarf watched all of this with amusement, patiently waiting until I finished the drink.
“Right then, I must harry this along. In order to register you I need your name, to take your stats on this crystal, and any information about your classes that you wish to divulge. You don’t need to divulge much, the only necessary bits are what type they are. We don't need details, but details and guides to achieve your class are always wanted if they are unknown, we will pay for things like that.”
“My name is Alexilios. My classes are a swordsman and a blacksmith class, with nothing particularly unique about either.” At that, Perry lifted an eyebrow. He didn’t push the matter in any way, but he definitely didn’t believe me. “I don’t know if its relevant but I’m only level seventy nine in my main class and twenty one in the other. Well, I suppose the first may have changed during the battles in Linden but I have yet to check.”
“Oh! Oh, you likely have a deluge of notifications! I apologize, please check those now and we can proceed from there.” His eyes had widened when I mentioned my levels, likely because he knew I wasn’t lying and as he said before, they suspected at least one of the members who caused this incident. If they had a bead on her, they likely would know she was higher level than me by a long shot.
Regardless, he was right. I was also impatient to see what sort of notifications I had gotten. I took a deep breath in preparation and mentally prompted my notifications to come forth. A dozen, or more, blue screens appeared before me and I let out a faint gasp at them.