Chapter Forty-Nine
The Small Acts of Courage
The night flowed on in a haze of drinks and food, dance and laughter. After several hours of spinning and singing Michael collapsed to the soft grass, looking up at the flames which tickled the night sky. His cheeks were sore from the constant joy upon his face and his voice was all but gone from his drunken caterwauling. The stars glittered in the night sky, seemingly changing colours every second he chose to look up at them.
Rose slumped down beside him, her head touching his as they both stared into space together. Eventually they slouched up onto their elbows and looked over the scene quietly together.
Aroha and Nichole held each other as they danced, looking so far into each another’s eyes that Michael was convinced that the bonfire could have burned down the entire fortress and they would’ve just kept swaying.
Oliver was trying to teach Sarah a style of dance called Leverest-Low, named because it was invented in Cama, a Southern City in Leverest, but also primarily because it was a terribly easy and ungraceful dance done by old drunk couples.
Michael stood by the sentiment that every living person on Draendica could do that dance. There were variations of it for people with one leg, or none at all. There were ways you could do it without arms, if need be.
It wasn’t a nice dance, but it was infectiously happy.
Sarah wept with laughter as she made a fool of herself trying to mimic Oliver, whom, while more comfortable and experienced in the style, looked just as idiotic.
James and Carter were dancing together nearby as well, idly spinning one-another by the hand and occasionally they would intersect with Sarah and Oliver and the four would erupt in laughter as they tried to turn two-person dances into four.
Carter had grown up with Michael and James, so he knew those moves as well as anyone, but much like Sarah his face cracked at the seams with laughter.
Rose chuckled in her body as she watched Oliver sweep Carter off his feet like a Talisatian Prince. “Quite the bunch you’ve gathered up here.”
Michael looked at them all fondly and shook his head as Nichole and Aroha wandered over, courteously bowing before they launched into their own versions of the poor-folk’s dance. “I don’t take credit for this. They seem practically made for each other.”
Rose glanced at the archer quietly in the low light of the bonfire. “I think they were made for you.”
Michael pondered on it for a moment. “Are you religious, Miss Hawthorne?”
She made a wrinkled face and shook her head.
“Are you anti-religious?” he asked, genuinely curious.
“I’m anti-tyranny. And ‘do what I say or be bound in everlasting darkness’ isn’t what I would call a life of freedom.”
Michael pursed his lips, holding back his amusement. “Fair.”
Rose caught his look anyway and she smiled, confessing, “I don’t think anyone really knows what’s going on, I just think some people enjoy the feeling of being looked up to, so they invent things and claim them as fact. The only thing I’m completely against...” Rose turned and looked at him seriously, “is putting mayonnaise on fries. That’s fucked up.”
Michael nodded very seriously. “That and tyranny.”
“Yes.” Rose fought to keep her face straight and picked up her goblet from the ground. She sloshed some wine into it and handed the cup to Michael. “Here’s to-”
Michael began shouting, “What? You need a cup too!”
Rose raised the bottle in her hand. “I’ve got one, stop interrupting.”
Michael nearly spilt his drink in laughter and Rose continued.
“Here’s to the rebel cause! And to a life of liberty-”
“Except for mayo on fries-” Michael inserted.
“-except for mayo on fries.”
They clinked their cup and bottle and drank, and before long, they’d both slumped back down onto the grass together, a touch closer than before.
Rose had never really had friends. It was the Legacy curse, she supposed, feeling like such an outsider to the world itself, so that even the idea of befriending other outsiders felt foreign. It was part of the reason she’d hit Michael with the rose-spell outside of her door. She wanted him to have a reason to keep his distance, if that was what he wanted to do. The day she’d wandered up to their table, she’d done so mainly to see what kind of reaction he’d have to seeing her. When he simply didn’t react, or at least not in a real way, she asked if she could sit, and almost wasn’t aware she was doing it.
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
Rose had never felt particularly lonely, she’d never felt like she was too out on her own. Having family, even though they were on the other side of the world, was always enough.
Upon thinking that thought, Rose smiled gently to herself in the dark, staring up into the gorgeous, Bawdion night sky, and turned her head to Michael again, this time to find him looking back at her.
His eyes reflected every colour in the firelight, shimmering all together at once.
“You’re leaving tomorrow morning,” Rose stated.
“We are,” Michael replied.
“I’m going to come with you.”
“Yes, please.”
The two Legacies broke into smalls grins and looked at one-another for a moment, until Rose leapt to her feet and dragged him up and back out onto the dance floor. “They’re playing Dance of the Legless, come on!”
*****
Michael was the first one back in his cabin after the festivities began to die down. Over the course of the night he’d managed to get drunk three times and sober twice, and was now coming down again as he ambled into his dorm. He slowly began packing his things for the trip the next day, loosely based on the information Oliver and Sarah had given him. “You can sweat through a bunch of clothes, or just bring a couple outfits and wash them. Adventurers always smell bad. And Arrows. Lots and lots of arrows, for obvious reasons. Nicky and Aroha will bring the rations, but you’ll need a big water-skin. And a travel cloak for sleeping is always good. Actually I’ll write a list-”
So, he went through his list, stuffing a travel-bag with the assorted items, most of which were available in his closet. And as he moved slowly through his tasks, he emptied out his pockets and found his Kosadi. He went to place it on his nightstand when it glowed gently in his hand and a message etched its way onto the face of the stone before his very eyes in Carter’s swirling script.
You there, old friend?
Michael still had trouble looking at the magic without admiring every moment of it. He took out the scribing pen and scraped away his friend’s message before scrawling his own. Always. What can I do for you, Archangel Cox?
There was a pause between the messages.
Tomorrow we’re off, and James told me what you two talked about today, Carter wrote.
Michael frowned and brushed his hair back, anxiously realising he’d never asked the nobleman if he was sure he was prepared to go besides their brief chat on the day of the funeral.
Suddenly the message continued sprawling, I want you to know the same applies to you, my friend. You don’t
The message froze.
Michael frowned. He shook the magical device when suddenly the entire stone lost its glow. He took out his scribing pen once more and scraped it clear, unsure if it was the right thing to do.
The glow came back, followed shortly by the message: Sorry, I’m getting my words mixed up. What I mean is that it’s not all up to you. I know you. And I know how your mind works.
The words filled up the stone’s face and stopped. Michael scraped it quickly again. The stone glowed once more, and script danced on its face.
And I know you think if you don’t do anything, then nothing will get done, but that doesn’t mean it all has to be on you, Sparky.
The Kosadi faded and Michael realised he was holding his breath. He scraped away Carter’s message and replied, I know. But I think I have to do this, Slick. For me. Not sure why.
Carter, up in the Iiryia chambers, read that message and he rested his head on his headboard, his eyes welling a touch. After a long moment, He leaned forward on his bed and nodded to himself before he made his final reply.
Michael watched the gemstone glow again and he picked it up and read: Your mother would be so proud of you, my love.
Michael thought about those words for a long time before he wrote, Hope so. Goodnight dear, and then sat and thought on them for a long time after. His mother had been right. The first thing he did upon walking into a secret world was try to solve its biggest problem, decode its many secrets and ask every conceivable question he could think of.
Her words rang in his head relentlessly; Because you’ve never left a riddle half-solved. Because it will be the death of you... and I won’t help that happen.
Michael thought for a long time that night, about a lot of things. He thought about trying to summon his Seer-Arcancy and just focusing on his mother’s name, her face and voice. Just to see where it might take him, if it would take him anywhere at all. After one of the longest minutes of his life, Michael decided against it, knowing if she wanted him to know where she was, she would’ve told him.
The rune-lines above Michael’s bed glowed with a soft yellow light and Michael frowned, waving idly toward it and opening the door.
The door clicked open and on the other side of it stood Oliver, standing sheepishly for a moment. When he spotted Michael on his bed, he waved gingerly and said, “Hope I didn’t wake you?”
Michael stood up and wrapped him in a hug, shaking his head. “Just finished packing.” He looked Oliver over for a moment and found his hands folded lightly. “Everything okay?”
Oliver nodded, glancing slightly to his hands and then to Michael’s bed. “Just been thinking about tomorrow. I’m excited, but I’m a little nervous. Are you nervous?”
Michael was taken aback by the statement a little. In his eyes, Oliver was more of a hero than anyone he’d ever met before. He wore a sword with a name. He was an orphaned warrior. He was charming and gentle, and funny and bold. And a little scared..
“Nervous? Yes, I am,” Michael said, looking him squarely in the face and then scratched his head. “Hey, I don’t know if this is odd, because we haven’t known each other for long...”
“Michael,” Oliver said, a warm smile on his face. “So far as I count it, I’ve known you for your entire new life.”
Michael smiled brightly and nodded. “Well, in that case, old friend. You want to crash with me tonight? I sleep better next to others.”
Oliver looked at Michael and nodded gratefully. Oliver watched him as he got ready for bed and thought he might be the most heroic person he’d ever met. After all, he could summon light to his fingertips. He offered up his own safety for the good of a bunch of strangers. He’d known nothing about monsters one night and was fighting them the next morning. He read books to understand things, not just to hold knowledge over other people’s heads. He asked questions and never pretended to know what he didn’t.
Michael and Oliver crammed into the single bed, and before their third sighing breaths, they’d both fallen into a deep sleep, barely covered by the one blanket they shared and a tangled mess of each-other’s arms.