“Let me sleep!” Bryan mumbled.
“Wake up! It’s an emergency.”
“Erin, I command you to let me sleep!” The shaking continued. He was about to fry the wrench before he realized that it was not Erin’s voice.
He blinked his eyes open and saw Clinton. Clinton was one of the few people Bryan would actually regret toasting, but he should know better than to wake him up so early. “Why are you here? Should it not be her job to rouse me?”
Clinton scowled. “She’s gone.”
“WHAT!”
“That wench!” Bryan screamed. The inn room was as bare as it was before they had stopped at the inn yesterday. He flung the pillow at one of the cowering inn servants. “Where is she?”
He glared down at the detestable bed, and noticed a letter that had been hidden under the pillow. He seized it and glanced through it. The temperature in the room increased as Bryan read.
‘Bryan Fyrran,
‘I am sorry to say that I will no longer be traveling with you. There are others talented than I who would be more compatible with you. Indeed, you have brought this fact to my attention, on several occasions. All things considered, I hope that you are not too displeased with my actions. Please forgive my sudden departure.
‘I have been considering my decision for a while now. Your recent actions in Alinor Village have tipped the scale. I have determined that a man who weighs life so little cannot be my master.
‘Do not mistake me, I did not make this decision lightly. Sooner or later, I would have left. The only reason that I have continued this long is because your family took me in, fed me, and provided me an education. Even though this was done with the intention of molding me into the ideal slave, it will bind me no more. Any claims you may have once held over me, my former servitude to you, ends now.
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‘The sad thing is, that was the only good I have seen your family do. How can such a self-serving family be one of the noble “Heroic” families? Do you honestly believe yourself to be a hero?
‘Once upon a time, you might have become a hero like those in the old tales. Tales that were read to me to prepare to follow you. But, these fairytales did not have heroes who rape and destroy villages, like you did in Alinor. That such actions are commonplace shattered what little was left of my belief in heroes. I will not be a part of a world where the hailed “Heroes” are the greater evil.
‘We all have our part in life. You were raised to be a hero, and I was raised to support you. There is one thing that those fairytales have taught me: every hero needs a villain. If you bear the mantle of the hero, then I will put on the mask of the villain.
Farewell,
Erin’
After Bryan had finished reading the letter he frowned down at the bed. Disgusted that it had been wasted on that wench, he threw a fireball at it. As he watched the bed go up in flames he started to laugh, “AHAHAHHAHAHAH! The healer thinks that she can pick up and leave? You!” pointing at the trembling inn-servant, “go get the guard. We have a traitor on our hands.”
He glared at the parchment in his hands.
“Don’t burn it,” Clinton said, “we still need to report this incident to the Head.”
“Yes,” Bryan scowled as he pictured what would happen. He nodded and tucked the letter into his pocket, “Grandfather will know how to deal with this.”
The two walked out of the room, ignoring the charred remains of the bed.