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Death Eater
Chapter 39: Chores and Tales

Chapter 39: Chores and Tales

He pulled the bag over his shoulder, then walked for some time from the import carriage to the bakery. The task was monumentous, for the magic on Kenan's vambrace was constant. Multiple times did his muscles fail him, yet each time he grimaced and pushed forward .All the while Jorun and Dion lazed inside the baker's kitchen, waiting for their friend.

“Are you going to help? At all?” Kenan asked both of them.

“No. You should probably get used to this dynamic.” Jorun said as he plucked away at his lute. Dion half growled and half barked in agreement. Noctis huffed, then set back to work.

***

Shirtless, and blanket of sweat on him that had dirt, soil, mud, and other unwanted brown material mixed in. His belt and other assortments were tossed to the side with his tunic. Only keeping on his boots and pants. In front of Noctis, stood a large stump with another, smaller piece of wood standing on top of it.

At first he was offered an ax to split the wood. Which was respectively rejected. Kenan learned to see everything he does as an avenue of training. So instead, he used the heavy fake blade as his weapon of choice. It had just enough sharpness to be considered a wedge and more than enough weight to follow through.

On another nearby stump, was Jorun sitting merrily with Dion sleeping at his feet. The armature bard had convinced his parents that he helped Kenan with the neighborhood chores. Noctis begrudgingly agreed to play along with the ruse. Mostly because it was good to have company around, human company that is. Also, Joruns skill with his instrument had rapidly improved. No longer did it sound as if a banshee had been banished or a door’s hinges hadn't been oiled in a century. It was also nice to have music while working.

“Are you going to add any tales to the music soon?” Kenan asked as another imaginary foe vanished into a piece of wood.

The music didn’t stop. “No. Yes. Maybe. Probably not.” A string was strung wrong. “Why?”

Noctis heard a slight tinge in his friend's voice. “What’s wrong?” The third wooden Roshu died in one sweep.

Jorun leapt up and placed the lute down. ”It’s just that…” He circled Kenan. “Whenever I play. I get this feeling. I don’t know. It feels like I’m going to be swept off my feet… and… I don’t know.”

Noctis gave a slide glance at his friend. “Are you afraid of this feeling?”

“No. Well yes. With my hole being I want to go with it, the current. I’m just afraid what will happen if I do.”

“Hmpf.” A bandit screamed in Kenan's mind as he created another piece of firewood ”Do you know the tale of Ragr?”

“Who?”

“Ragr, the coward.”

“No, I don’t. What does that have to do with this?”

Kenan put away his fake blade. Then sat down as he motioned for his friend to do the same. “Ragr was a lowly creature. Similar to goblins, but worse. He lived in a hole, and was afraid to go outside. Yet, he always had this feeling. He wanted to take a step from his hovel and adventure the world. Yet his fear forbade him from doing so. One day, the most beautiful woman in the land…”

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“Lucy.”

“Shut up. Had accidentally stumbled into his home and hurt her ankle. Well, Ragr fell in love quickly. For the first time, he went outside to fetch her food until she got her strength back. Everyday he ventured out a little further. Soon, she was ready to leave. She did, and invited him to follow. Ragr, being the coward, said no. He couldn’t. Now that she left, he would probably go back into hiding.

“About ten minutes after she departed, Ragr heard a scream. He knew deep down it was her. For a long time he stayed at the edge of his home. Fear started to drag him back inside when he heard the woman scream once more. Love took over, and he grabbed a sharpened rock as he ran. Eventually he saw a huge cat-like monster cornering his love. Ragr jumped on the things back. The monster flung him off and then proceeded to maul him.”

“This story doesn’t make me feel better.”

“Cause I’m not done yet. Just listen. As he began to die, he saw the monster about to kill the lady. Well, in the moment, no fear crossed his mind. All he wanted to do was save his love. Suddenly, lightning struck Ragr and he transformed. Now, he was taller, stronger, and more handsome than any man. At that moment he was renamed to Halr, the hero. Halr killed the monster and took the lady as his wife See, Ragr was cursed with fear, and it made so he couldn’t be his true self. What do you have to fear of this feeling other than finding yourself?”

“Umm. I don’t know. I-I” Jorun picked his lute back up. “Forget it.” Noctis could almost see the gears turning inside of the bards head.

***

Ever since Kenan had gotten back from Anacip. The village had been a hundred times more receptive. Yet the eyes still held the same fear as before, but it was coupled with respect. No, it wasn’t the same fear. Altered. It was like the villagers still saw him as a monster, but their own monster. It was odd. Yet the friendliness he had received improved leap and bounds.

At first he did chores for random people every few days. Now, It was added to the everyday regime. As a result, he grew closer to the people of the town. Even the bullies from before made reprimands towards Kenan and the two siblings. When there weren't any projects to help with, or not many chores. Noctis would opt to aid in the building of temporary structures for the survivors. Since everyone always had their own work to do, there was a lack of volunteers, and those that did couldn’t cough up much time. Usually, it was either the guard, or the survivors themselves doing the work. Once Noctis caught on to the basics of what to do, many times it was only himself working. With Jorun and Dion lounging around of course.

Currently, he was halfway done putting the poles in the ground to make the perimeter of a wattle and daub house. The sun was on its descent and beginning to make the sky orange. His muscles were tired and torn. Food was the only thing on his mind. Yet the drive to push his body further and to get these houses done made him continue on. Most of the time, he worked in companionable silence, save for the music.

As he hauled another piece of timber on his shoulder, the wind shifted. Quickly he set the log down. Kenan felt mana intertwined inside the drifts. He looked towards the sky, searching for something, he didn’t know what. The whistle of winds dipped and twirled as it started to become parallel with the sound of a lute. Noctis followed the flow. In which it led to Jorun. His eyes were closed, and hair lifted by an invisible force.

The bard plucked the flute. It was as if the wind reacted and carried the noise in a graceful way. Mana dug itself into Jorun, and then it released from the strings of the lute. Leaves from the ground lifted and swirled around Jorun. He opened his mouth. He started a song. A tale of a backswordsman, and his effort in defeating a mad orc

Each sound was louder than the other. Or that's what it seemed like. In Joruns words, mana was carried. Kenan felt that power be introduced into his body, attach to the worst parts of it and begin to heal the torn muscles. The winds and the song's volume increased..

After the last word was said, the tempo started to die. it’s range decreased. The wind lessened and the leaves fell back onto the ground. Kenan's body was at optimal functioning and he was thrumming in energy. Now he was more than ready to attack the chore ahead.

Joruns hair became normal. A while passed as he stood still. Eventually he opened his eyes. They were different. Nothing outright. Simply brighter. “Did you follow that feeling?” Kenan asked as he smirked. Noctis got a nod in response. “Told you.” Before getting back to work.

As the sun faded. Kenan decided he had done enough, and was prepared to go back to Jorun’s and eat. Noctis took a few steps back to admire his work. He cocked his head. The house was finished. How did he manage to do that?