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Dual Wielding
102. Aftermath

102. Aftermath

“Headcount!” Reiss called out across the formation. His voice was exhausted, but it rang like a bell, and glory echoed atop the sea.

Corrin was first. “All four alive!”

“He passed out, but we’re both alright!” someone shouted.

“Two out of the fight, but all four of us made it!”

“We’re… we’re all here!”

Each strider in turn called out how many they had left, and Corrin smiled each time as he watched the clouds from his position lying on the saddle. Above them, the sun had passed its zenith—the battle had raged for almost eight hours—but the sky was still bright, and for a day only a few weeks out from the deep winter, it was surprisingly warm.

The colossus’s defeat hadn’t marked the end of the battle—the horde still had to be dispersed, and with force—but once it fell, they’d grown much less aggressive. The formation had been able to link back up with the rest of the army as well, gaining much needed support.

Corrin didn’t bother to add up the numbers as they called them out. He hadn’t the first time either, so there was no point, but he did sit up after the last strider called their number. Reiss held up a hand, and a hush fell over the bunch. “I will not obfuscate the truth of the matter, as it does us no good to forget them. We have experienced loss today. Friends, comrades, our fellow adventurers, who fought and died by our sides. I look around and I see them. I see them in striders half-empty. I see them in weapons left unattended.”

Smiles fell, and the mood grew more somber as men and women looked around the saddles. People they’d laughed with, fought with, bled with—gone. It was easy to forget while the fires of battle burned so gloriously hot. But when they cooled, and the flames died, the ashes remained.

“I cannot claim to have known all of their names. Nor can I say I know how each of them lived. That knowledge now rests solely in the hands of those they have left behind. Amongst us. So long as we do not forget them, they are never gone. Tonight, the fires of glory will carry their souls to the stars above, and their pyre will lighten the dark.”

There were nods of approval, and the general attitude seemed one of acceptance. They were adventurers, death was an acquaintance to many, and not one of them had truly expected to escape unscathed from such a battle. The price had been paid in blood.

“But,” Reiss continued, “I remember a group of men hiding behind a karst. A group whose deaths were all but assured. I saw it in their hopeless eyes. I saw it in their slumped shoulders. And I can say without a doubt, that other group surely died out on the battlefield, because I do not see them here.”

A quick cheer rose up in response, and Reiss got to the heart of the matter. There was a single question on everyone’s minds, one that begged for an answer. They all waited, faint smiles etching onto their weary faces.

“Considering our additions over the course of the battle, since the time that group left the karst and set out together…”

A pause. Reiss clenched his hand into a fist.

“We haven’t lost even one man!”

Corrin too clenched his fist in triumph as the group burst into a final round of cheers. They weren’t as loud as they had been during the battle—but not for lack of morale. They were tired, bone tired. Injured too, some had been stabbed, bitten, cut. Some had it even worse—Corrin had seen missing arms, severe burns from the acid, and even someone who’d lost an eye. Now that the heat of battle had cooled, the exhaustion had set in.

But they were alive.

Corrin’s eyes roamed the saddle over towards Wyn, who’d passed out soon after the battle had finished. He was lying on his back with a cloak over his eyes, chest rising and falling peacefully. He’d be elated to hear the news when he woke, but the cheering didn’t wake him, and Corrin didn’t intend to either.

Instead, he sank back into the worn leather of the saddle, resting his hands behind his head, and closed his eyes. The cool wind tousled his hair, and the warm air helped his aching body relax. The sea drifted by quietly, a soft rustling of grass beneath Siensa’s shell.

Corrin smiled.

“Nice work man,” he whispered. “And thanks.”

***

Wyn didn’t sleep long, and when his eyes fluttered open under the cloak, they hadn’t yet arrived back in Estin. He could feel the lethargic movement of Siensa as she drifted through the grass in uneven strides.

He didn’t get up immediately though. For one, he was tired. Tired in a way that even spirit fire couldn’t help. But more importantly, he just wanted to think in peace a bit longer.

It had been harder to notice at the time, but as the battle had lessened after the colossus he’d noticed it more. Whenever he’d burned one of the monsters with his flame, he felt a similar sensation as bonding a spirit—the weight in his mind.

Many were so weak it was hardly noticeable. The eye fish for example, which were comparable to bonding a light spirit, but since they burned up easily it was even harder to feel in the instant before they died.

Had that always been the case? He didn’t remember such weight when he’d fought in Straetum, but he hadn’t been able to feel his bond back then either.

Do you have any ideas, Eia? He asked, relaying his thoughts to her.

I think I’m tired. Her voice came back a bit grouchy. He was surprised, he’d never heard it quite like that before. I didn’t even know I could get tired. Maintaining all those bonds was hard.

Ah. Well, thank you. Wyn let his gratitude drift through the connection. I couldn’t have done it without you.

The spirit’s mood brightened in his head. Yes well, we are partners aren’t we? What was the question again?

That weight, I could feel it when I was fighting—burning the monsters had a weight to it. I’d never felt that before.

Oh that? That’s how your power has always worked silly. Your soul has to bear some of the weight of the soul you’re purifying. It’s light—spirit fire is efficient—but it’s there.

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Wyn frowned. What about the flood? I didn’t feel anything that night!

You couldn’t feel your blessing before. Eia ‘rolled her eyes’. That’s why you overworked it so hard, even after my mother stepped in to bear some of the burden herself. Did you think passing out for two weeks was normal? Your soul was exhausted.

Huh. Wyn was too tired to argue. So what about using it to stay awake?

I… don’t think that’s as hard. Eia said hesitantly. Well, to an extent. There’s no other living being involved then, and the power is uniquely suited for you, so it’s much easier, you probably wouldn’t even notice the weight, like carrying a coin in your pocket.

Good to know. Thanks again Eia.

Wyn pulled the cloak off his eyes as he slowly sat up and scooted over to the edge of the saddle.

Corrin noticed as he did. “Hey.”

“Hey.”

Wyn looked at his friend. Corrin smiled, and his face said it all. He hadn’t failed again.

Thank the spirits. Wyn let out a long sigh as the last of the tension drained from his shoulders.

Before he could say another word, a third voice called out from elsewhere in the formation. “Wyn! Glad to see you’re awake!”

Ayden leapt from the warstrider down into theirs, a smile on his bruised face. He strode over and clapped Wyn on the shoulder.

“You saved my ass. I didn’t get to thank you earlier. So thanks.”

“It was nothing.”

“What a liar!” Ayden laughed. “And speaking of, what was that ability? Purple flames? And something that let you run on grass? Are you a wind channeler?”

Wyn pressed a finger to his lips with a faint smirk. “Trade secret, sorry.”

“Well, I guess I won’t complain too much.” Ayden chuckled. He glanced across the saddle at Corrin. He gave a quick nod. “You fought well.”

Corrin nodded back, face tight. “Likewise.”

Wyn rubbed his forehead. “You two are idiots.”

“Hey! That’s—”

“Incoming!” A jovial voice boomed from the sky. Tor crashed down onto the back of the strider with a laugh. Unlike someone, he’d managed it in a single large leap from further along the formation.

“Ah everyone I wanted to see in one place! Lucky me!” He plopped down in the middle of them, hands on his knees. “I heard you all performed admirably in the battle, your comrades all spoke quite highly of you, but I wanted to hear about it straight from the source!”

Corrin’s eyes shone as he grabbed his waster and pushed himself to his feet. “Tor, you won’t believe this! I figured out how to mantle my whole sword! I was fighting this giant bug, right? And its shell was really tough. But then it hit me—” He slapped a palm against his forehead. “I didn’t need to cover the whole thing, just the edge! So I—” He swung the wooden blade again, making a dramatic buzzing sound with his lips.”

Corrin told the story of how he’d beaten the insects, showing off different moves and making sound effects the whole time. When he showed off whatever he was doing with the mana, Wyn squinted at the wooden blade, but he couldn’t see anything besides perhaps a faint ripple in the air.

When he finished his story, Tor nodded approvingly. “Extremely simple, but a technique nonetheless. I don’t even need to see you swing it. On that count, you pass. Some celebration is in order, it’s a rare talent that can form their first technique so soon after becoming open. I did actually see you fighting later in the fight—you’ve grown strong, so stand proud and loudly proclaim yourself a true channeler.”

Corrin preened under the praise as Tor turned to Ayden next.

“You and your team may not have had any similar breakthroughs, but that is not indicative of strength. I hear you didn’t lose a single person during the disaster. Furthermore, it seems you all played instrumental roles in the battle. On paper, you were the highest performing team amongst the formation, and in a battle like this, that deserves recognition. When we return, I’ll put in an official commendation with the adventurer’s guild in Titan’s Pass. I believe that will be all you need for a promotion to silver rank in the east.”

Ayden’s eyes widened. “T-thank you sir!” He bowed low, body trembling.

“You will be low silver, but if you continue to work hard, I believe someday you may be able to reach gold.”

Ayden thanked him again—profusely, but something did seem a bit off about it to Wyn, though he couldn’t put his finger on it.

Finally Tor turned to Wyn. “And you,” he grinned slyly. “You didn’t tell me everything, did you boy?”

Wyn met the spirit knight’s eyes. He’d promised to keep the details of spirit fire a secret, and he didn’t think they would pry, but no small amount of thought had gone towards what he would say should the knight or Nereus begin to suspect something.

“Not everything, that’s true,” he admitted with an easy smile, though his fingers tightened slightly around his knee. “But you’d have to ask Sezim for more details.”

Tor raised an eyebrow. “Is that so? That’s a big name to throw around. If you’re lying, that’s a dangerous bluff.”

Wyn shrugged. “If.”

He was lying through his teeth obviously, but if there was any person he thought might actually know more about his blessing, and could be trusted to know what should be kept secret, it was the spirit knight from back in the glades. He’d seemed to know Iillia, and serve under her in some way. Wyn didn’t think there was a stronger recommendation than that. Given their connection, he had to assume that ‘The Stillblade’ wouldn’t take issue with him using his name now and again.

Tor grinned. “Well… if that’s true, I suppose I shouldn’t press the issue. Maybe I’ll ask him about it once I’m back in the capital.”

“You do that.”

Tor stroked his chin with a glint of curiosity in his eye. “In any case, I hear you were the key to this formation's survival. Every adventurer here knows it, and they won’t forget that. You did a fine job Wyn, and you’ll make a great spirit knight. Or mage I suppose.” There was a bit of dismissiveness in the last part, but only a small amount, and it disappeared as it was masked behind a wide smile. “ Regardless of what you choose, you have my respect.”

He held out a hand.

Wyn clasped it firmly. “Thank you sir.”

“Now then, onto business.” Tor sucked in a chestful of air before bellowing to the formation. “Alright listen up! You’re the last group I have to say this to! When we get back to town, I expect every one of you to see a healer and clean yourselves off. After that, we’re celebrating our victory! Drinks are on me all night!”

As the rest of the group celebrated that news, Wyn quietly wondered how much that was costing the spirit knight—or did it come out of some sort of budget?

It didn’t matter in the end, and as Estin came into view on the horizon, Wyn took a deep breath and smiled. The battle was over, the colossus was dead. They’d take one day to rest, and then they’d leave Estin behind.

Until then, it was time to relax. With the colossus dealt with, it wasn’t like there’d be any more drama before they left. So he settled in for what was sure to be a relaxing, boring night.