While both Tristan and the poor guard were having the same mental dilemma from opposite sides, the door opened. The sound of light steps could be heard, though neither of the two men paid it any attention. Harp was able to walk right up to the guard, who flinched back when he noticed her.
Harp looked over at Tristan with wide eyes, “What did you do to him.”
It took a moment for Tristan to respond. Harp looked very startling, not pretty like Eve, but almost alien. Her brown hair was normal enough, but she had a dark and light kern. They manifested in an unsettling way. Purple eyes from the dark kern were visible, but they glowed a pale lavender. Actually glowed like something toxic.
The pale skin of a dark kern was warring with the tanned skin of a light kern. The pattern looked like tears, as the darker patches outlined her jaw and cheeks starting at her eyes. Her build was small and made her look like a child. Seeing it in the dim light and gloomy ambiance of the prison was definitely not helping with the image.
Tristan finally got some words out, “I told him I would not eat his soul.”
Harp frowned at Tristan, not sure if the myths were true or not, “Is that something you’re struggling with.”
“I’m thinking that it's something everyone struggles with,” Tristan shrugged, “Everyone absorbs artifact essence to grow their kern after all.”
Harp sighed, deciding that this was not a side trail she was keen to go down. She unfolded the chair she had brought with her and sat down, “You may be wondering why I’m here.”
“Sure,” Tristan nodded.
Harp smiled a little, “that was a rhetorical question. Have you seen my dad? Is he doing well?”
“Yes on both accounts, he is the only person who can cook ghost crab well. It pretty much guarantees his safety,” Tristan leaned back against the wall.
“Really, that is good to hear. Mom’s been worried,” Harp said, “Helen worries as well.”
“Does she?” Tristan said unconvinced, “I made quite the commotion upstairs, almost killed the civil protector, almost got killed by that same civil protector. Yet, she’s nowhere to be seen.”
He made a show of looking around. After a few moments, Tristan shrugged folding his arms and leaning back against the wall. His parents hadn’t been there before, why should they be here now?
Harp sighed, “Do you want her here?”
“Of course I don’t,” Tristan said.
“Then why are you angry that she is doing what you want her to?” Harp asked.
The way she cocked her head to the side made her look like a broken doll. Tristan pondered what she had said. Was Helen doing as he wanted? No, was the conclusion he came to. Grace was the closest thing to a mother figure he had, and she and Helen were massively different in just about every way. The thing that Grace had always been was available. Tristan had rarely needed it, but it was always there. Helen had sided with her husband, opting to try and blunt the blows he gave instead of opposing them.
“I hate the hypocrisy of it. If you want something then you should not complain if you won’t make the sacrifices to receive it,” Tristan said, “She is weak by choice.”
“Not everything is about strength,” Harp said, “Sometimes people are weak in an area - that means they need help, not scorn.”
This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there.
Tristan raised an eyebrow, “Really….what if I were to tell you that Tris has a metal kern too?”
Tristan did not know, but he had a strong suspicion. The artifact he had delivered to Hadrid could detect the trace metal essence in an object and rip it out. Humans naturally had very little metal essence, but the dream he had while William was leaving had shown him his younger sister with golden eyes. While it was not conclusive as far as evidence was concerned, it was enough for Tristan.
“Tris? Your sister, that does make things easier to sort out,” Harp muttered, “Well, I can take care of her then. I am basically her permanent caretaker anyway.” Her eyes refocused on Tristan, “What about you? Are you doing alright?”
He was about to say something sarcastic, after all, he had been shoved into a small stone box by his father. Stopping, he pondered. Was he mentally sound? The issue was, that he no longer knew what mentally sound looked like. Normally someone could point to a parent or a community leader. His parents fulfilled both, Elder Forest started a war, and the leader of the temple did not even believe his own message.
Tristan went through his life looking for stable people. He could only come up with three, and two of those were married. Eve never forgot who she was, a kind person born at a time when that trait was punished. The other two were Conni and Grace. Both were coarse, but they received respect from the malcontents at the mine, not due to a power disparity. They were consistent, fair, and most of all, looked out for their workers.
He compared himself to the mine foreman. They were nothing alike, Tristan wanted to suppress the world around him, make it bend, and give him what he deserved. It was why he took so many risks. Conni and Grace built up the world around them. In their view, it was a garden to be tended not an enemy to crush. Looking back, even Olfred had given deference to Conni. Olfred did not respect anyone.
“No, probably not,” Tristan sighed. He hated all this reflective junk. Give him something to fight any day of the week, though that was the root of the problems, wasn’t it? He continued, “My focus has to be on survival first.”
“You’re going to a mine where you have friends and a monster of a tier four to protect you,” Harp said with a tinge of exasperation, “Survival should not be an issue.”
For a moment Tristan was panicking, they had found out about Luke. Then he remembered, that Shadow Fist had watched Siren thrash the Golden Heart patriarch. Chances were high that the family nanny had a lot of juicy secrets that Shadow Fist did not intend to share.
“You do realize we will be digging up possibly the most powerful elemental we have ever seen, that monster of a tier four has predicted it to be around tier eight.” Tristan said, “So, yes, survival is definitely the most pressing issue.”
Harp’s eyes widened and the lavender in her irises seemed to both get brighter and darker, “Tier eight, does Elder Forest know?”
Tristan realized that he was seeing his reaction from when Conni first told him that tier seven elementals were a thing. The difference between Siren and a tier eight was the same as the difference between Hadrid and Clive. It would take a truly ridiculous number of Clive’s to take down a single Hadrid, and they could not even guarantee that this elemental was alone.
“Yes, he has a war, remember?” Tristan said, “So long as he gets the plains, he won’t care how many people die.”
Harp stood, “I need to go. I need to let Mom know,” She folded her chair and started for the door. Pausing at the bottom of the steps, she looked back, “If we end up needing to run, don’t worry, I’ll take Tris.”
“Thanks,” Tristan struggled to keep the question out of his voice. What could she do to protect anyone? If his memory served, she had a tier one light and dark kern. Neither was that great at tier one, and she had little to no martial skills. Still, it was the thought that counted in this case.
He tried to push the interaction out of his head by reading. It did not work. Biological Tampering was a fascinating book, but Harp’s reaction had his attention. Letting the elemental out could create a calamity, especially if it was a sapient elemental like the dark one Siren had fought. Shadow Fist had told him to think about the good of the Caldera. The lives of many Forest Caldera warriors were in his hands.
Siren and his crew had put down a tier seven elemental. That was back when he was only tier three. Tristan wanted to believe he could handle one tier higher now that he was tier four. Relying on wishes was a good way to die. If Conni did not open up the deposit, then Elder Forest would just send someone who would.
That new group would definitely be overconfident and get wiped out. Siren’s best chance to lay a trap was definitely for Tristan to help him. While he did not believe he owed the Caldera anything, he did believe he owed the miners a lot. With his mind settled, Tristan refocused on his book. He would probably be here for a while longer.