Slowly opening his eyes, cool air crept into the building as the embers died through the night. Quietly shifting out from under the covers, Pan listened to the sound of his son’s light snoring. Waking sooner than usual, dawn was still some time away, and even the early riser Rion had yet to stir.
A leader needed to be able to maintain a calm disposition, his father made a point to instill the value of evaluating situations with a level head. There were boundaries to how far one could take it though. With his daughter about to depart, Pan couldn't find it in him to relax—falling asleep the night before had been difficult enough. Sitting with vacant eyes for long minutes, he tried to get a handle on what he felt, hoping that would make it easier to deal with.
Sadness stood out among the emotions, the simplest of reactions. In the direct aftermath of Gunner’s folly he witnessed the flight of those who could not stand what the village had become. The fact they left for their own interests, abandoning the settlement did not come as a shock to Pan, it was an understandable course of action, despite the fact that their departure weakened what little the village still had. However he never imagined that Ria would one day need to leave as well.
First Rian, then Lier, and now even Ria was leaving him. Rion seemed to grow dissatisfied with life as well. Pan hoped the presence of Imira would keep him at least a while longer. It may not have been a very frequent occurrence, but migration to other thorps was not rare either, especially for new couples. All his children going their own way, possibly never to meet with him again, he tried to mentally prepare himself, but at the very least he hoped to grow to an old man before that.
Pan could only restrain his selfishness, for his daughter’s one ray of hope. Even if the Patriarch was benevolent, there were limits to what he would do for someone. Suffering from an illness beyond the ken of fishermen, he was more than aware that whatever it was the hands of the Church would not let it remain.
If not for the truly unique nature of her situation, perhaps Pan would feel resentment. When looking at the horns and unnatural flesh, he knew that the matter was not a simple one. Fearing for her, the situation seemed hopeless; even if Ria still retained her mind, the Church’s devotion to eliminating the enemies of humanity would not leave someone presenting a possible threat. If it were anyone other than his daughter, Pan knew he would have accepted the Church’s judgement.
But weres are not. Upon Alric’s arrival, and seeing him to be a wizard, he took the chance.
Pan stood up and began to get dressed, trying not to dwell too much. Shaking out all his clothes, making sure no insects found their way into the warm dwelling and nested. It was but a momentary distraction as he slipped into a tunic and trousers of a quality surpassing what his neighbors wore.
Slipping through the dark to the storehouse, saying he took advantage of his position was not entirely false. While the others were understanding, Pan’s offerings to Alric were more than what should have been given for the treatment of one person. Due to his planning and caution, Pan was not putting them at any risk—but shifting several more blankets to a backpack meant for the wizard, the members of the village might feel winter’s bite a bit more prominently than before.
Pan felt guilt nipping at him, but it did not change his actions. The troubles that his fellows went through affected him, but compared to Ria’s health, their importance paled.
Tiaism did not support such ideas, and in fact openly rejected them. The weak were weak, and a weak family member was also weak. Not an off extolled tenant of Tian Meng, even those like Corsair and Melissa who followed more orthodox beliefs seemed to turn a blind eye to it.
Of course, it is only towards those close that one will attempt to ignore that portion of Tiaism, the general sentiment remained. The flimsy excuse that the ill should be cared for to become strong again did not even apply to Ria’s situation. No matter how tight knit the village had become over the past few years, that amount of care would be seen as an indiscretion.
Alric was a boon in that sense. At first glance, Pan realized that he acted unlike the other magicians that passed through town. Though he could not say how exactly, that feeling encouraged him to invite Alric to treat Ria. To invite a normal wizard to do so was taking a huge risk, even one who could not speak Derrish and appeared unassociated with the Church should have reacted poorly to his daughter’s illness.
Yet upon seeing him, he felt a sudden urge that this was his chance, and he needed to take speak with Alric. And somehow it worked out.
The mage acted quite detached from things, but in spite of this, he cozied up to almost every member of the village in an instant. Towering over everyone, with a power the Church taught them to fear, he helped out on his own initiative and acceded to almost anything asked of him. At first Pan thought him to be the exact opposite of what Tiaism taught; only Alric by far had the required strength to deal with others as he wished.
The first time it was brought to his attention was when Ross and Troy returned from a trip with Alric into the forest. From the way the two relayed the tale, Pan thought for sure they were distorting the truth to some extent. Even if Alric was capable of taking down numerous goblins by hand, the tale of the absurd aftermath seemed like nonsense. He may have been a bit eccentric, but the way they told it he sounded completely unhinged. It was easy to just brush them off as exaggerating some of his usual quirks.
Then came the false Disciples. Pan had been aware that something was off at first glance. The way they walked, the weapons at their sides, the small amount of supplies on them...none of it reflected the ostentatious nature of members of the Church. The only resemblance they held was their clothing.
Even their arrogance deviated from that of true Disciples. Members of the Church were the law wherever they walked, and while there was a hierarchy within the organization, those of the same rank did not kowtow to each other so easily. Fierce competition existed between Disciples; Pan may not have witnessed it, but such tales were common. Becoming a Disciple from outside the Church required a high level of talent, yet there were so many that they fought for the positions in droves. Those who succeeded in joining were not even given an exceptional amount of resources to advance.
The entire structure of the Church was based around feeding those with power. If one was too weak, they would be cast out. Usually only death released someone from their service to the Church, but with innumerable Disciples a one in ten thousand case became a regular occurrence. Those removed from the structure never gained deep access into the organization, so the Church did not expend much effort into ferreting them out. Still, it was common knowledge that even though they were allowed to roam after leaving, some subjects remained taboo for them to speak about. Not much other than anecdotes of the harsh life they led was ever divulged.
Those three who came to the town were conceited with power, but it carried far too much smugness. True Disciples of the Church realized that while they stood above others, the only law was that the strong devoured the weak; never could one be satisfied with their position. The false trio on the other hand acted with a regal facade—completely untouchable. Alric’s warning surprised him more due to the fact that he was able to recognize they did not belong to the Church.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
The shocks did not stop there, because over the next three days the mage showed off his strange durability.
Pan hesitated a moment as he finished packing various supplies into a pair of large packs. Recalling the ‘finale’ Alric had shown became his newest reason to worry over Ria. True, unless Clerics themselves began to chase him down nothing would pose a danger. Instead, what alarmed him was the way Alric could swing between moods that at the same time were dissociated from his actions.
Ponderously cutting at himself, cheerfully severing muscles and dragging people off to interrogate, melancholic if others did not accept his goodwill. Acting in favor of the village gave everyone a good impression of him; that did not change the fact that he was able to forget the fact that an arrow was stuck into his chest. Alric seemed to earnestly want to provide them with a better life, but Pan realized that the mage could not be predicted as easily as he thought.
Gambling his daughter’s life with a madman, the idea put a great deal of strain upon him. Ria’s only chance was to escape the clutches of the Clerics, and Alric was the only one who could do that. Only there came the danger of Alric not fully grasping the situation and slipping up.
That was the worst case to Pan, a fatal mistake caused not out of malice, but by accident. Powerful, it would be the fact that the wizard would need to travel through equally foreign lands, and there was no doubt trouble would be stirred up. Alric’s erratic nature would be the source of misfortune, not his own ill will.
Pan somehow remained assured on this point. The wizard never acted maliciously towards any of the villagers, nor did he show any other signs that he would otherwise bring harm. Unfortunately, Ria herself recently seemed to have a change of heart.
Upon first arrival, it didn’t seem like there was any issue between them. In fact, given her condition Alric quite readily treated her, apparently unaware of how unnerving it was to others. In only a few short days, despite the affliction showing no signs of retreating, she experienced a marked increase in her health. Even without training, Pan could tell that whatever magic Alric used alleviated the worst of the symptoms, if not the most prominent ones. A short while after, and she could regain consciousness.
He had been too naive at that point. Appearing with miracles in hand, Pan thought that Alric would be able to completely cure her with ease. It should have been obvious to him such would not be the case; those passing by, as well as his father told plenty of stories about mages and their talents. They simply did not have the means to provide remedies.
As the third son of a merchant, Pan’s father at least received a proper education before being sent off to make it on his own; the most important lessons of which were passed on to him. Few things in the world could be considered as important as knowing about mages.
His father had not been open minded about the topic—very few were. However knowledge of wizards and mages was almost standard in any curriculum. Enough to know their strengths and weaknesses, but vague enough that no magician would ever benefit from learning. Magic was a devilish art, but crusaders can not fight without knowing who their enemy is.
Unlike the city, rural areas were lawless zones, only the pressure of the community created a semblance of order. Living on the outskirts of Glaucen’s territory in a small village meant even the occasional traveling Disciple was a rarity. These factors meant that even though wizards were not common, they still passed through at a relatively high rate; the way to deal with them was appeasement and avoiding trouble.
A fact repeated over and over during his lessons was that magic did not harness the Flow of Life. Magic users created outlandish displays, however they were restricted to affecting the physical world—any ability that appeared otherwise just happened to be a more convoluted and intricate spell. Despite a mystical veneer, at their core mages used brute force. Pan was not wholly convinced of this, but the intimidation tactics shown by traveling bandits suggested it to be so. Almost all their threatening appearances relied on material conjuration or manipulation. He should have known better than to expect Alric could simply remove the disease.
Although the idea did not sit well, he agreed with Ria being taken to a place more capable to deal with the issue. Intellectually, the decision was easy to make, but now that the time actually arrived, it took all his willpower to remain calm.
Going to spend the last few hours he could with her; knocking, he was unsurprised to see Alric open the door for him with a smile from ear to ear.
“Ah, hey there. I was going to wait a bit before waking her up to eat, but I can do that now if you want?” Speaking in a low whisper, it followed his usual pattern of exaggerated expressions.
“I...just want to check in on her today.” Pan felt his throat catch, coughing softly to try and compose himself. Alric wouldn't make anything of it, but it was Ria that worried he didn't want to worry. “If you would wake her up, that would be quite—quite pleasing.”
Alric chuckled, tapping on the silvery spots on his cheek. Stepping back, he gestured for Pan to step inside. “Well, do you want me to step outside? You have forty seconds to talk now, so maybe there can be a bit more to discuss between you two.”
“I would appreciate that.”
“Right then.” Nodding in understanding, Alric stooped down about to lift Ria up from the bed, but then withdrew his hand as an afterthought. Pan stepped forward to do so, with mixed feelings on Alric’s hesitance.
On one hand, he didn’t wish for Ria to experience any discomfort. Though slightly awkward, it came as a relief Alric took heed of her feelings. But on the other, the distance his daughter put between them worried him as well. Before Ria began expressing unease around the mage, Pan had hoped he could push them together to some degree. After all, even if Alric planned to see her back to health, the more he cared and became invested in her well being, the more cautious he would be about Ria’s health.
Slightly fidgeting and tapping the bony protrusions coming from Ria’s forehead, he slipped away like a candle extinguished in the wind. Hopefully with time Alric would become closer to her again, but things were what they were.
“Hey Riri, how are you feeling?” The way Ria reflexively withdrew at first did not escape him, no matter how slight, but relaxed after recognizing him. “It’s almost time for you to go.”
“Dad? Are you really letting this happen?” Ria muttered into his shoulder, lightly leaning against him. Light as fishing rod, her thin form regained some sturdiness over the weeks. “Leaving, with...someone like that?”
“I’m sorry, but what other way is there?” Swallowing, his throat tightened up again, but he had to continue. There wasn’t time to compose himself completely. “Alric has been with the village for more than a month now. No one in the village who would not vouch for his character. He is likely the only hope of getting better at all.”
“Is it worth it?” Grumbling under her breath in a defeated tone, she went lax. Not from time running out, but just fatigue. “They’re wrong, he’s wrong. I can feel it.”
“Riri, Alric is a mage. The village has seen—him, in strange circumstance; he does not mean you harm. If you do see this side, recall that despite the appearance, he is honest.”
“You're wrong. He's rotten, cold, and uncaring.”
“Why? What is it he's done or said?” Looking into her eyes, Pan wanted an answer. He needed to know if there was something Alric had done or said to instill the distrust. Should Pan need to withdraw support from Alric he would do so. If the choice really was between a rock and a hard place, he would not force her out, it would comfort him more having her nearby.
However, that led to a doomed peace. The fact Ria opposed leaving so strongly twisted Pan. She should have been old enough to make her own decisions, but in this case, between fear and illness, she wasn’t coming to the most logical conclusion. This only exacerbated the problem, Ria’s stubbornness rarely conceded in the best of times; who knew what it would take for her to give in. Pan couldn’t help but cringe at all the possibilities that she could bring about with her bullheadedness. Her misapprehensions needed to be curbed as much as possible—
“Just drop it.” Her hands dropped to the straw mattress from around him.
Pan almost flinched back, but didn’t. A calm disposition, sturdy as a rock. No matter what she said, he was confident.
“Everything will be fine. You can get through this.” Ria didn’t say anything in return, her eyes glazing over before beginning to slump. Pan simply sat on the bed with her in his arms. When would he see her again, if ever?
Ria was a woman grown, and able to live on her own, if only she was freed from the curse. Perhaps after the trials, even if she still disdained Alric, she would not seek to return again. Certainly in these last few moment trying to comfort her, Pan did not speak empathy, but words meant to cajole.
It would be worth it, so long as she got better. Even if Ria never returned, so long as she ended up able to live happily, that would be enough for him.
Steeling himself, he stepped outside. Alric stood a few meters back, apparently in a slight state of concentration as several objects orbited around him. Noticing Pan’s exit, he unhurriedly walked over.
“⭓ ⭓ ⭓⭓⭓ ⭓ ⭓ ⭓.”
As he sometimes did, the mage spoke in his own tongue. Never leaving any hints as to what his words meant, other than a few phrases it was a mystery to the villagers. Even so, the soft solemnity carried through.
“It is, isn’t it?”
Pan had to turn away, his face now staring into the sun. The day had begun, and there was no going back.