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Chapter 22 – Closets & Skeletons

Wil

The trip to Athem has been uneventful since my near deadly encounter with the twins, who are apparently one person, a person called Nem.

The expedition has made it's way along the dry rocky plains and is moving up towards the mountains that separate Gol from Athem. We've had a peaceful trip, aside from the stupid Flaebirds. I really don't want to encounter those birds again. I don't care how much they are worth. Everyone was dubious when I had returned, thinking that I had not done my duty.

My body was back in perfect condition when I had returned with Nem. No scars could be seen from the cuts those stupid birds gave me. My cloak was a bit torn up, but I didn't push the issue. With my excellent ears I picked up Jelt whispering to someone that I probably took a knife to it myself. I take back what I said about being sympathetic towards him.

Jelt aside, the other regulars looked a little put off that they didn't get to pad their pockets with the extra cash. Even Voxol is looking a bit grumpy, which is rare for the big man. I'm looking at him now as we walk, surprised that he is still grumpy days later. I wouldn't think he would be the type. He'd be last on my list of people I'd expect to hold a grudge.

Not being able to stand his gloomy atmosphere, I decide to attack head on. Verbally, that is.

“Are you irritated about having to walk?” I ask

He grunts at me.

“Now that we're going uphill we can't add the extra load to the wagons you know.” I try to push Voxol to respond.

“No Wil, it's not that. It's the Flaebirds.” he says brusquely.

Oh. So I was right.

“Look Voxol, I don't see how it's my fault that no one caught one, the rest of you couldn't even cut them!” I defend myself, getting irritated at everyone's accusing glares.

“That's it exactly.” he replies with a sigh. “I wasn't even to hit those birds! Not one! And I call myself a warrior. I'm ashamed.”

Oh.

'U-uh... that is... “

While I'm deciding on how to backpedal to cheer him up, he does so all by himself.

“Thanks for trying Wil, haha”

I receive a hard slap on the back for my poor efforts. I think it's a sign of endearment, but the force he is using is way too high. Oh well, it's not like it actually hurts, at least not compared to the slap of a giant Walrus. I'm still uncomfortable with appearing to be too strong, so I wince and pretend to be sore from the slap. He looks happy that I'm wincing.

It's nice to see him back to himself.

“You're fine again? Even though you were grumpy all this time? How does that even work?” I ask.

“As a warrior, moping is even worse than missing, haha! I didn't realize how bad it was until I heard your wimpy attempts to save my feelings. Bah! Speak straight, man!” He says with a laugh and then a grimace.

“Not as wimpy as my attempts to swat at those birds.” I chuckle, pointing to the sword at my side.

“Ah! Did you manage to hit one? If you didn't hit one, with your speed, then I don't know why I'm being such a baby! Hahaha!”

“I tried really my best, but no, nothing but misses.” I can't bring myself to say it, but if they weren't making me bleed, and I didn't suck with a sword, I probably could have damaged one, at least.

“Haha! Thought so! You looked proper banged up when Nem and Ilorem dragged you back. Speaking of them, did you ever ask them about their past or wassit that you wondered?”

This slow man is oddly perceptive sometimes. Perhaps it's a warriors intuition.

“No I haven't had the time. I was too tired after dealing with those birds to ask them anything, and now that everyone is blaming me for losing the chance at some quick cash, I don't want to be seen trying to suck up. That's all they'd see if I were to talk to the twins.” I say, telling a half-truth.

“Bah! Who cares what they think. Live freely! Haha.”

That advice … is probably terrible. The Vol like Voxolvol here aren't well known for their planning ability. The island of Vol is a den of explosive population growth, held in check by the entire populace's battle madness and love of deadly tournaments. Those who Luck favors happen to be dragged away by chance to see the world, and live past their twenties. The word 'plan' probably isn't even in their language. Thus, any advice from Voxol that does not pertain to battle is advice that I usually ignore.

“Thanks, that's good advice.” I flat out lie, “I mostly have to worry about Jelt though, he's the jealous type, haha. If he sees me talking to the twins, there's no doubt he'll complain for days.” I say with a laugh, using the twins ambiguous attractiveness to my advantage.

“Haha that's true! Don't worry about the little man. I'll give him a whack if he gets too talky. The twins aren't busy with the trip right now, charge head first into battle, right?” Voxol offers with a wink.

Wink? Why wink? I think he thinks I'm attracted to the twins, which is irksome, but misunderstandings aside, that's not a bad offer.

“Then I'll take you up on that, thanks Voxol.” I part ways with him to avoid a troublesome conversation and instead sidle over to the fancy wagon that the twins are on.

Blast the advantages of leadership. I think it has cushioned seats.

“Mind if I join you?” I say as I hop up onto the wagon, making the question rhetorical. It almost sounds like a romantic proposition... What has Voxol put in my head, haha. Blast, I'm laughing like him too. Like they say, stupidity is infectious.

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“Sure.” one of the twins replies sardonically while the other one is busy studying the path ahead. I wonder how that works? Creepy.

Voxol thinking the twins are attractive is pretty funny, for me, anyways. Thinking of the twins as attractive is something I cannot do. Mostly because they look so pale and thin anyone that saw what I see would mistake them for a skeleton masquerading as a human. Ah, well it turns out they are, and 'they' is actually a 'he'. Not to mention that 'he' is a very old man split between two bodies. Gross.

I've had a chance to think about my circumstances. I don't want to get involved in whatever weird experiments Nem is up to, but if he can tell me about magic... it's too good to pass up. Sometimes you have to risk things to win at life, I think. In this case I don't have to risk much. I'll ask lots of questions and offer little in return. If he becomes problematic, it seems like it wouldn't be too much trouble to kill him.

…

I check to see if my Ethul is reacting to any danger around... No... That last thought about killing Nem was probably my own. Even if he has experimented on humans, I don't want to think how ruthless I've become...

“Have you come to tell me all your Mage secrets or come to finish me off?” The closest Nem says to me in a quiet and prescient voice.

“The latter, of course.” I say with a smile and a tap of the sword on my side.

It was a joke, but it's reception was poor.

Both Nem's were leaning away from me with eyes narrowed, trying to discern my true intentions.

“That … was a joke. I was hoping to ask you some things.”

“Ah. Ask away.” Nem says cautiously, still not able to understand my amazing sense of humor.

“Why did you say my Ethul is strange?” I ask. I'll focus on getting him to help me understand myself, and I'll stay far away from questions about his experiments. I don't think I want to know how many skeletons he has in his closet. I imagine there are more than a few.

Yet again, he seems relieved by my words. I wonder if we're both hoping I don't ask the same thing?

“If it's that much, it's fine. Are you wearing it right now? Can I see it?”

I nod and move part of my cloak aside to show him the Ethul underneath... I'm trying not to think about how this might look from the wrong angle, as he peers at my body.

“I don't see any gold or silver woven into it, and it looks... really ugly... for an Ethul. You're a step above wearing rags. Most people would think you're a homeless Mage, and the more intelligent ones would realize that no Mage would ever be poor, and instead think you're an unlucky Mage or a stealthy one, but I know better.”

“Wait, if you know better what does that make you?” I can't help but quip.

“Really old.” Nem replies in monotone before continuing “The reason you don't see any Ethuls like that is because there aren't any. Not that I know of, anyway. Gold and silver threads are needed to hold the ancient enchantments that make the Ethul famous.”

“What about the ones that aren't all shiny?” I ask, thinking of what I've heard in the past about Magewear being vividly colored.

“The brightly colored robes are made for style or to distract enemies from the location of the threads. The threads still have to be woven in. I've seen many Ethuls, but all of them have the precious metals needed to hold their magic. Are you testing me? It's a new type, isn't it?” he asks, this time squinting at me with an indiscernible expression.

“I told you, I don't have any answers.” I shake my head.

“Don't have any for me, you mean.” he says with a hint of accusation.

I don't think there is a point going down this road with him, he probably will never believe me with what little I'm willing to tell him. He'll have to keep his questions to himself or I'll have to find someone else to tell me about magic.

He is searching my face for the answer. Like I said, he won't find it.

…

“Fine. Mages are known for playing games after all.” he says something nostalgic with a resigned voice. It's been a while since I've heard that, the last time it was from cranky old Sav, wherever he's got off to. I can live with being called tricky.

“So what do you know about the abilities of an Ethul?” I ask, continuing on without humoring his inquisition.

“Increased stamina, increased body strength and agility, resistance to most of the basics, strangely including sleep. Mana storage and focus too, of course.” he lists off as if he were taking a test.

…

This is exciting.

I've figured out the first ones on my own, but the last part he mentioned I had no idea about. Mana storage? What's that!? Focus? Mana Focus? Can I cast spells?

For the first time in a long time, I see a path to my dream. Wizard powers, here I come. This man is a much better version of Ted, I'm not going to let this one go. As I'm lost in my jubilation, my misery catches up with me.

“Hey! What are you doing Wil? What is this, a secret meeting? What is going on!?” Jelt is yelling towards us.

Are you kidding me Jelt? You make it sound like I'm having a tryst. Go away. I don't know where you even came from.

I really shouldn't get this lost in thought. Last I saw he was in the back of the pack.

“Owww, that hurts! Why did you hit me Voxol? Why didn't I see that coming?” he complains at Voxol who had come up from behind and hit him right after he yelled out.

Voxol is looking at me, and as soon as our eyes meet, he gives me another wink and a thumbs up.

Yet another headache has welled up before I even noticed.

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