Some life returned to Jill’s eyes. She wasn’t magically happy, but she didn’t seem as lost as before. They had been adventurers for a short time. They were more than friends, but less in some respects too. Mash once thought they were more like a family, but that wasn’t quite right either. They were bonded together by fate, but they didn’t talk like he thought real friends would. He didn’t share with them like he did with his brother and sister, although he felt like he relied on them more. There was so much weird about their relationship. It was a product of their circumstance and compatibility.
They had all been excluded or desperate for one reason or another, and maybe it was an inevitability that they met and formed a group. Mash saw how unusual their relationship really was. At times they were closer than friends or family, but other times they could feel like strangers. He wanted to change that. He felt like he needed to. That was why he felt compelled to share his experience. To share Priscilla’s words with them. It was one of the things he kept closest to him. The moment might not be important to them or even to Priscilla, but it had done a lot for him. It got him to look forward more; to not glance backward as often. The words had made him feel like he didn’t need to run from anything. His past didn’t chase him. It was always there. It wasn’t something to escape from.
“It’s something to carry.”
He said those words aloud, though he didn’t mean to. They had just come out as he thought. he turned to the others. They couldn’t know what he was thinking, but they nodded when he met their eyes. It seemed like the words had helped them all, and that was enough for now.
Time passed and eventually, Fifty-One came down to speak to them. He had left them alone. Even he had realized that they needed some space. Some time to just sit and talk. Mash was surprised that he had respected that, but he guessed that Fifty-One wasn’t actually a bad person. Although, he was annoying at times. Mash’s gaze flicked toward the partially damaged building, and he wondered if they would get punished for it. Maybe they would be forced to pay? He didn’t know if they could afford it, but it probably wouldn’t be too hard to earn the gold.
“Don’t worry about the building. Are you guys good to go to the next test? It’s nothing complicated. Just some questions to know if we can trust you or not. It's not personal or difficult, and I believe that all of you can pass easily.”
Mash looked back at Fifty-One as he took a seat across from them. His back was toward the damaged building. The words sounded surprisingly genuine, and Mash looked toward the others. If they wanted to stop, he would. He felt like he had gained a lot from the experience either way. To his surprise, it was Jill who answered.
“Yeah, we’re ready. Sorry about all that. Also, I leveled, if that mattered still.”
Fifty-One nodded and paused in the motion.
“It does. Summoned golems cannot let people level. It would mean you have passed the previous test as well.”
He stopped talking, took another breath and then spoke again.
“Well, it matters if you decide to join. It would be used to determine where your group would get placed, but I don’t think you care for that. Look, I get it. I know why you don’t want to join, and we won’t force you. Even before the next trial, I want you to know that I’m rooting for you guys. Not just as prospective members, but because I have seen the kind of people you are. I feel like I can trust you guys.”
Mash watched as Fifty-One’s tone seemed to change. It was casual and formal. The two almost seemed to be clashing as he spoke. Although, he barely paid any attention to that as the man raised his right hand to his mask. He grabbed the left side of the mask and pulled it off. The motion was slow, and Mash felt his breath catch when he saw Fifty-One’s face. His face was covered in small burn scars. There was one large scar. A part of his lip was missing where the scar began. The right side of his upper lip was gone and a burn scar ran along his face. It stretched to his ear and covered most of his cheek too. It was obviously an old scar, but it looked like it hurt even now. Mash didn’t ask or comment. If it was something that could be healed, Fifty-One would’ve done it by now. Luke didn’t offer either.
“My name is Igan. I’m pleased to really meet you.”
He reached out a hand, and Mash didn’t hesitate as he grabbed it. He shook Igan’s hand as firmly as he could. The man matched Mash’s strength easily. Jill and Luke followed Mash’s action and shook Igan’s hand too. Only Red hesitated, and then she asked a question as her eyes lit up with recognition.
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“Wait, do you mean your Igan of the Scorched Lands?”
Igan let his hand drop back to the ground and nodded slowly. Mash didn’t recognize the name, and neither did Jill. Surprisingly, that name seemed to mean something to Luke. Seemed to freeze him in his seat. Even the grey fur on his ears seemed frozen. Although, Mash had never heard of that name. His curiosity was piqued now.
“Who?”
The word drifted from Jill, and Mash nodded along eagerly. Head bobbing quickly, he slowed when Fifty-One cleared his throat.
“I did not think people from your continent would know of. And ask that you do not explain now. It is not a past I wish to relive. There is one trial left, and I believe you are ready to take the test.”
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The next was a literal test. Fifty-One had unceremoniously handed them each a single sheet of paper. There were only three questions on the front of the page. The back was empty. But the questions were important. Even a small glance had told him that these questions weren’t going to be easy. Mash’s eyes narrowed on the first question as he grabbed an ink pen. Pens were pretty uncommon and expensive. But someone who could afford to a building like this wouldn’t care about that cost. He walked over to a nearby wall and slid down sitting with his back against the wall. The chill provided by the metal walls was nice, and he held up the paper as he considered the first question.
What is a monster?
Mash stared at the paper and truly considered the question. He only had a pen so what he wrote down would stick. His initial instinct was to write creatures from dungeons or things like that. Although, that idea died quickly. He thought about all the dungeons he had been in, and most of the things inside were people. Many were humanoids, and even many of the monsters were smart. Some were even like Priscilla. Although, he would still consider her a monster.
[I believe that classification is correct. However, you would also belong in that group.]
Her message was unneeded. It wasn’t that it was snarky or offensive, rather he agreed wholeheartedly. He had done too much, both to himself and others to consider himself anything but a monster. And his class called him one. Mash stared at the paper at the question and moved his hand slowly. He wrote the letters slowly, but the words felt like they were appropriate. He would need way more than a page to write his real thoughts.
I don’t know.
A simple answer. A true one too. His eyes drifted down toward the next question.
Who do you fight?
Mash looked at the question. His hands moved before his mind contemplated the scope of the question. In a second the words were written. But they were not words he would take back.
Monsters.
The answers he was writing might get him in trouble. Someone with better judgment might change it because it looked like he was making fun of the test. Not Mash. That was the answer that came first. That jumped into his mind with one hundred percent certainty. Monsters didn’t just mean the mindless creatures that were destroyed. It didn’t mean the beasts he found in dungeons. Monsters were monsters, and everyone knew one when they saw it. Priscilla was a monster. Mash was a monster. That wasn’t it though. Leah was a monster. Jeral was a monster. Humans could be monsters. He fought those kinds of monsters.
Real monsters.
He added real to the front of the word. It didn’t really fit, and he wrote it down next to the other word. Wrapping around the word monster. Mash looked at it and thought that it was strangely cool looking. He glanced down at his own clothes. He tended to go with a fairly plain design on most days. A single color with his family crest near his heart. The colors changed and the shirt shifted. His family’s emblem moved to the center of his back. And the front contained the two words. They were printed exactly as he wrote them. Mash couldn’t stop grinning. There was so much irony in the design. The worse implications didn’t escape him either. He was screaming to the world exactly what he was.
Mash chuckled a little. Eyes shifted, and he could see the others turn their heads toward him. They were probably confused. And they saw his shirt which would only add to their confusion. He didn’t think about explaining. Just moved on to the final question.
Can you be trusted?
This question confused him the most. He had noticed it immediately, and it lingered in his mind as he worked on the others. It almost felt like a trick question or something he shouldn’t answer. Maybe he should just write yes down. No, that was a bad idea and would make all of his answers seem more like a joke than they already were. In the end, Fifty-One, or Igan, was a friend. And this test was already looking like an insult to Mash. The thing he just did with the shirt wouldn’t help either. Mash decided to start writing. Let his mind write the answer as he did with the previous one. It felt more genuine that way.
Yes. Although I would give away any secret to help some or something I wanted to. I can’t promise to keep any secrets unless they were personal. So, I would trust myself. Because you know that I will use what you give me to help others or myself. Although that second part is kind of obvious.
Rambling on and on, Mash kept writing until he felt like he made a mistake. These were his true thoughts, but that didn’t mean he should write so literally. Well, it was done, and the pen made it so that he couldn’t change it. Or at least, he would feel extremely embarrassed to scribble over his previous answer. He weighed his embarrassment over the two options and decided to just leave his answers as they were. It probably wouldn’t get him in trouble.