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Jack of All
Chapter 20: Interlude - A

Chapter 20: Interlude - A

Desolation.

That was what Ava saw. All around her stood ruined buildings, upturned earth and the signs of struggle. Her home was a ghost of its previous self. Not that she could still call it her home. The ones that remained would never allow her to call it that. She saw them, as she and the others approached the village. Haggard, sorrowful.

“We will protect you, should anyone try to do you harm. But I do not expect it.”

“Why?” she asked.

Indeed, she would almost welcome their wrath. She felt she deserved it. Perhaps if they’d hit her, it would bring them a small measure of peace.

“Because they are too tired. In both body and soul. You saw what they have been doing, these past few days. There is no more energy to spend, after doing that.”

What Ban referred to was a fresh horror that Ava has witnessed. Perhaps not as visceral as it could have been and she felt she should have expected it. But the sight of it still hit her. It was a newly built graveyard, some distance away from the village. Satyrs didn’t cremate their dead and they didn’t bury them into the ground either. They lived on a mountain, therefore their burial ceremony developed around the available materials. That is why, as Ava and the others climbed, they saw rows upon rows of rocks. Mounds of rocks, piled atop each other, in rough oval shapes. The first stood in rows, until the arrangement of them became more haphazard. Like there were too many mounds to build, for order to remain a priority. Ava knew what lay beneath those rocks. All those who have fallen, because of her folly.

“Why didn’t we do that before?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean… Satys are buried where they died. If they died in the village, they would be buried in the forest. In their preferred hunting spot. Or the like. Why… a cemetery?”

“Because there were too many to bury. Too many to them, to carry rocks to cover them, in their own separate places. And if we were to bury them in the forest, monsters would have desecrated their remains.”

“Oh.”

“…and I think…” Ban continued “…I think the others wanted to have them close by. As a reminder of what happened.”

There was no reply Ava could have given to that. She marched slowly, quietly, until they entered the village proper. It was even worse up close. She could see dried blood on wooden poles. She stepped on reddish ground. People have already started to rebuild, she noticed, but the tents that were pulled up looked shoddy, unstable. Like the ones that raised them simply wanted the job done and a roof over their heads. Whether it fell over, in a weeks’ time, didn’t matter anymore.

A rock bounced off, of Ava’s horns.

“Who did that?” Ban said, raising his voice.

Around them, people were clustered, but none responded. There were no friendly looks aimed at Ava. Indeed, most looked at her with hate and fury. A rare few managed to have only sorrow in their gazes.

They walked a few steps more, before a second rock hit Ava in the cheek. It wasn’t thrown hard enough to draw blood, but it still hurt. She relished it.

“You will stop doing that! This Satyr has been brought here for justice. Until then, no one will harm her. As the new village leader, I command it!” he bellowed.

“Command…” a voice was heard from the crowd.

“You command it?”

A figure pushed to the front, until it stood just a few feet away from Ban. It was an old Satyr. No, not old. Middle aged, but her hair was gray and she looked as if she had aged ten years in a few weeks. She was wearing a dirty loincloth and her breast band was torn in places. A spear was in her hand, but she was holding it like a walking stick. Ava noticed why, in the next moment. Her leg was bandaged around the knee and the bandage was stained crimson.

“You, boy, are barely of age. What gives you the right to command us?”

“The village leader passed on her role to me.”

“Because she was wounded and delirious-“

“You will not insult her to my face!” he said, with a hint of steel.

That only seemed to further enrage the woman.

“Why is it an insult to say she was injured? She was! She still is! And it’s all her fault!” she said, pointing at Ava.

“It is. This is why I have brought her here. To stand before the leader and be given judgement.”

“Judgement? I have her judgement right here!” she screamed, brandishing her spear.

“I will not-“

“Old horns.” A new voice spoke.

Turning around, Ava saw it was Ianeth, who was looking towards the woman.

“Please. I like this no more than you do, but it must be done.”

“Is that you Ianeth? I would have thought you more inclined to gut the bitch yourself!”

Ironic.

“I… I would like nothing more. But if we start stepping on traditions, then we are Satyrs no more.”

“You speak to me of traditions? Boy, you were not raised here. You did not live with the laws of this village, like I had. You had not… lost… as I have.” She said, her voice breaking.

“…I have not. But I still love this village. I am part of it. And because I respect it, I will follow the rules.” He said, though his eye was on Ban. “Please, old horns-“

“Don’t call me that, boy! I am not your mother! I had a son! I had a son and a husband and a father. They’re all gone! They’re… dead.”

She started sobbing, all the fury induced strength from before, leaving her.

“My boy! My baby boy!” she wailed. “He was such a young kid. My family…”

She was on her knees now. Other Satyrs came to her, trying to help her stand up.

“Best we move.” Ban whispered to Ava, before gesturing to the others to follow him.

They did, but they didn’t make it five paces, before a shrill scream hit their eardrums.

“They’re all dead! Dead! And she’s the reason for it! Enough with laws and traditions. Kill her!”

For a moment, Ava prepared for the worst. For a spear to be thrown her way or other Satyrs joining in the frenzy. But all that was heard was the sound of sobbing.

“Ianeth, please! Kill her! For me, please! Please!” the voice continued, but fading with distance.

Ava was disturbed enough that she didn’t notice when she arrived at a great leather tent.

“You will stay here. You will not be bound while inside and you will find water and food. But do not try to escape. The leather is enchanted.”

“I won’t. But… Ban, who was that? Why was it screaming for Ianeth?”

“That was Merona. She was among the first to take Ianeth in, when he first arrived in our village. The actual first, I believe. And she has lost her entire family to the monsters.”

“I see.”

“I will leave two guards at the entry to your tent. You will not be troubled. Sleep, if you can. Tomorrow, you will be facing your sentence.” He said, before turning around and leaving.

She looked at the two Satyrs that remained, but didn’t recognize them. Turning as well, she entered her tent. It was spartan. The floor was stone, so there would be no tunneling. There was no furniture, with the food and jug of water laying on the ground. There was even no bed, just a thick fur, sprawled to one side.

Can’t dig. Can’t use wood from the furniture to fashion a weapon. Nothing to escape with. Not that I want to.

She sat on the ground and nibbled at the dried fruit, thinking of her situation. Truthfully, there was a part of her that wanted this. A big part. Yes, she had run away, which must have meant that she wanted to be free. But whenever she slept, whenever she wasn’t running or hunting, whenever she had a quiet moment, she remembered. What she has wished and what she has done. And she wanted to be free of that. Perhaps bearing punishment would free her from her past. Or, at least, give others some solace.

If they don’t kill me.

Ava could admit she was scared of death. She didn’t want it. She wanted to make amends, but that… no. Satyrs were survivors and she thought of herself as a true Satyr, even after what she had done.

“Are you awake?” a voice whispered, from behind her tent.

Not from the entrance, she noticed, which meant that whoever it was, wasn’t here to taunt her.

‘Great’ tent. Enchanted for strength, not sound.

“I am.” She whispered back.

“Good. I wanted to talk to you, before… before-“

“Ianeth?” she whispered, a little louder than intended.

“Yes, it’s Ianeth! How could- No!” he said, in a more restrained manner. “I am not here to fight, Ava.”

“Then why are you here?” she asked, suspiciously.

“To tell you that you deserve it. Whatever punishment will come.”

“…really?! You came here to tell me I deserve to be punished?” she said, a part of her forgotten inner fire flaring up again. “I got a sense of how you think of me when you speared me through the stomach!”

“That- That was a lapse in judgement.”

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“Oh, take the flowers off your horns, Ianeth! You’ve always disliked me!”

“You broke one of my horns! How would have you reacted?” he hissed.

Killed you. Or broke off both your horns.

But she didn’t say that. She felt a little guilty for what she had done, but she wasn’t about to give him the satisfaction of an answer.

“And it wasn’t about disliking you. I’ve hated you. I’ve hated you because you were always so arrogant, so full of yourself. You only mastered the bow, but that made you think you were so better than the rest of us.”

“Yeah, well… so?” she huffed. “I am better than you. I can shoot faster, farther and more accurate than any Satyr our age. Even better than most elders!”

“Only with a bow! Look, you may have been judged for wishing to remain an |Archer|, instead of becoming a |Hunter| and being able to hunt with, you know, more than one weapon! …but that is not the point. I hated you and others did as well, because you were so proud of it. So arrogant. Like you were better than us.”

“Is that why you tried to kill me?” she almost laughed. “Because I hurt your little feelings? Grow up, short horns!”

“No, Ava.” Ianeth said, voice growing more serious. “I wanted to let you know that all of that could have passed. We are still young and, in my youth, I saw even human children acting stupidly. Satyrs are not better. But you have not changed. You have nurtured your arrogance. Up until the point where it cost us everything we had.”

He knows.

“I heard what you and Ban spoke about. I’m a hunter. |Extended Hearing| is one of the Skills a hunter gets. I know that the death which came to our village was caused by your hubris. By you thinking of yourself as equal to our founder. Because of that, Ava, you deserve any punishment you receive. Even death!”

She only heard footsteps after that. Despite of herself, she was shaken by his words. She knew herself to be arrogant and knew that she had made mistakes. Big ones. But because she knew that, she had sworn to be better. Even so, his words rattled her.

More than that, it was his final words that had her thinking. Death as a punishment. Satyrs didn’t kill their own, not usually. Sure, feuds happened, but they were infrequent and almost never resulted in death. War between clans was known to happen, but even then, Satyrs didn’t aim to kill, it just happened. She didn’t think about death as punishment seriously, before. But now, she couldn’t escape the thought.

It was long before sleep finally found her.

***

The next morning found Ava sleeping deeply. Her initial wariness had been overcome by the tiredness she had accumulated, both physical and emotional. That all lasted until someone interrupted her sleep.

“Get up!”

Ava startled and looked up, from the fur she used to cover herself, to the source of the voice. It was one of the two Satyrs, that stood guard over her tent. He stood next to her, peering at her expectantly.

“I said, get up! The leader will see you now. You will be bound. Don’t try to escape.”

As if.

She let herself be bound again, only it was her feet, as well as her hands that were tied up, this time around.

Put some rags on my horn, while you’re at it. Who knows, maybe I’ll do like a Minotaur and impale you.

Self-deprecating humor aside, once she was secured, she was escorted out of her tent and marched into the central hall of their village. It was, it should be said, the only hall in their village. A stone building, complete with thick wooden beams and columns. A dais stood at the end of it, with a large wooden chair in the center. As she reached it, she saw the village elder, sitting in it. She was flanked by two guards, both carrying enchanted weapons, from what she guessed. But the salient fact was that the leader was weak. She had bandages on every part of her body, some fresh, some old. Most were stained with blood.

“Horned one.” She said, respectfully.

“You use the proper terms, child.” The old Satyr rasped out a laugh. “Are you seeking redemption?”

“No, old one. I just…”

“I know you do not child. You feel nothing in general and pain in particular. And perhaps some fear, of your punishment.”

Is she using a Skill to read me?

“You are thinking that I am reading your mind, perhaps? I do not need to, child. It is written plain on your face.”

“…yes, old one. What is to be my punishment?”

“You wish to know it, don’t you? The waiting is as hard for you, as the memory of what happened is. But some stories must unfold a certain way and it is best not to hurry them.”

“You wish to hear my story?”

“I do not need to. Young Ban has told it to me and I trust him.”

“Oh.”

So that’s why he wanted to know.

“Young Ban did not question you to obtain information, before passing it on to me. He did it out of his own pain. He told me, because he knew I am weak and would not suffer an interrogation.”

“Yes, old one.”

“Oh, enough ‘old one’, child. You have shown spirit. But also, arrogance. That has not changed. No more honorifics.”

“Yes, o-. Yes.”

“Good.” She said, breathing painfully. “I asked you here, young Ava, because I do not know what punishment to pass on. Us Satyrs do not kill our own, but what am I do to with you? Your actions resulted in the death of half our village. What would you say, child? Is death fitting?”

“I- I… do not know. I deserve punishment. It’s just that… I don’t want to die.” She finished lamely.

“No. You don’t. But then again, neither did the others. Mothers, fathers, brothers and sisters. All died, when the monsters attacked. Entire families, gone. And more, our most precious artefact, the gift of our founder, is gone. It may only return if you reach the same heights as our founder did, that is what I understand.”

Ava listened on. She would have cried, but she had run out of tears long ago. She was afraid, but also tired. So very tired. She just wanted it to end.

“Our village hangs on the precipice. If a worthy punishment is not given, then what is left of our people will leave, heading out to other clans and other tribes. Yet if the punishment is too great, our founder’s legacy might never be returned. And so, I struggle with what I must do for the people and what I must to for our future.”

She breathed in tiredly, before catching a look at Ava.

“Oh, don’t look at me like that, brat!” she snapped. “I wasn’t seriously considering killing you. Not when what you did, was done out of misplaced pride and hubris. If you would have wished for it to happen deliberately, you would have already paid the blood price. No… it is a different type of punishment I must give. A different type of balance to settle…”

“Tell me child, do you truly believe you could become as great as our founder? Don’t answer! Think. I am not talking about Classes or Levels. Indeed, I don’t believe he ever held the |Archer| Class. I am talking about worth. Could you ever match him?”

Ava thought about her wish, that night. How she wanted to be his equal, but never once thought if she was truly worthy of it. If she had any chance of making herself his equal by her own power.

“…no, horned one. I do not believe so. I wanted to… but I see now that I could never be so.”

A look of sorrow flashed over the leader’s face, for a second, before it was gone.

“No, young, Ava. I do not think so either. And even if I did… the punishment must match the deed.” She sighed. “And this is how the treasure of our people is truly lost.”

Those words puzzled Ava, but she didn’t have time to be lost in thought, as with a movement of her hand, the leader’s guards took hold and escorted her outside. Where the entire village had gathered. All sitting in a wide semi-circle, around the great hall. Waiting for the sentence. For her.

She spotted Ban, at the forefront of the crowd, looking sad, but determined. Ianeth was standing down the line from him, looking resolved. All faces showed the same family of emotions. Rare were the ones that still held fury in their gaze. Most seemed only grim and serious.

She felt a pair of hands on her shoulders, before being made to kneel in front of the crowd.

“We have all gathered here to pass on a sentence.” The leader said, voice booming despite her frail body.

“The horror that passed over this village has scarred us all. We have lost friends, family, even ourselves. And the fault of that can be placed at this young satyr’s hooves. She has caused this, not out of hate. Not out of anger. She has caused this out of foolishness and pride, true, but caused it she did. And for this, I have given my judgement.”

Ava could see all the gathered Satyrs, hanging on every word spoken.

“For the horror that she had brought. But for the loss of our treasure too. For though not all know of this, her hubris was such that she wished herself to be the second master of the Crescent Bow, the treasure of our forefather. The Crescent Bow, denied her, but she is still bound to it. As such, our greatest artifact is lost.”

Yelling started upon hearing that. Jeering and name-calling, but it all stopped when the leader raised a hand.

“If this young Satyr had any chance of attaining the worth of our founder, I would have given her a more lenient punishment. I would have let her keep her Class. But by her own words, and my thoughts, there is no chance of such an event occurring.”

Wait, what? Class?

“This is not a punishment meted out lightly. Never in our village’s history has it been done before. But the punishment must fit the crime. Such is the way of stories.”

What did she mean by ‘keep her Class’?

Ava was starting to panic.

“Do you wish for Ava to be punished?” she asked.

“Yes!” a chorus of voices answered.

“Do you wish her to be forever condemned in our memory?”

“Yes!!!”

“Then lend me your power, my kin!” she thundered. “By my authority, as leader of this village. By my Class and the will of the Satyrs. By the ancient rites of our people. I declare you, Ava Sharphorn, to be an |Outcast|. May all know you to be as such, for Satyrs do not forget.”

|Class Assigned: Outcast|

|Class Level: 8|

|New Skills:|

|Foe on Sight|

|Concealed Presence|

|Sense Intent|

|Class Locked: Archer|

What was that?!

“Now, child, you will leave this village. None of you will harm her. My punishment has already been provided. She will live the rest of her life as an |Outcast|, despised by us and all who set their eyes upon her. That is… that-“

A thud was heard behind Ava. Looking back, she saw the leader collapsed on the ground. Cries came in from the crowd, as the two guards tried to get her back up. It was that moment when, as crowds tend to do, everything went up in a frenzy.

It was all a blur. Satyrs jumped to the leader’s aid, while other Satyrs, Merona included, attacked Ava, hitting her with their hands, fists, hooves. Anything they could. Ava protected herself as best she could against the crowd that went against the command of their leader, but she was too disoriented. She saw Ban protecting her, Ianeth trying to shield the leader from flying rocks.

“Go!” A voice said.

She looked around and noticed the ropes tying her legs and hands together were no more.

“Go!” Ban roared in her year. “Run or they’ll tear you to pieces!”

She saw him then, wrestling two Satyrs at once, that were trying to get to her, while Merona was on his back, clawing at his face.

“Run, Ava!”

She ran. Through flying rocks and fists and all manner of Satyrs jumping in her way. She got knocked down three times, before she managed to escape the village. The last time was the worst. Her loincloth had been ripped off, but that wasn’t so much a loss as it was for other species, since a Satyr’s prevalent hair in the lower region gave enough modesty that loincloths were more of a fashion statement among their people. No, the reason why this was so bad was because of what she felt against her leg and the body that was pressed to her, as she felt down. She figured that her attacker wanted to punish her in a more carnal way, than the village leader did.

She struggled for a few seconds, trying to avoid getting her hands pinned down, before a gasp of pain was heard. Looking at her attacker, she noticed an arrow sprouting from his back. She got up and started to ran, even though she figured only Ban could have made that shot.

She ran on for miles and hours, until the was nearly past the forest. All her thoughts revolved around that voice in her head, telling her that her most desired Class was ‘locked’. And that she was now an |Outcast|, complete with its very own set of Skills.

They should have just killed me.

The sound of footsteps made her stop. She wasn’t even sure she could defend herself like this.

“Ava.” Ban said, stepping up from around a tree.

“Ban.” She said, relieved.

She wanted to thank him for saving her. Hug him, cry on his shoulder. She didn’t know. She never got a chance to.

He slapped her.

Now, I feel like crying.

“I’m… I’m so sorry, Ava! I don’t know why I did that.”

“I do.”

“No, it’s not… I don’t hate you, Ava. It’s just that I feel a strong compulsion to do you harm, right now. I do not understand it.”

“I do! It’s… a Skill. From my new Class. |Foe on Sight|. I guess that’s why the others went against the leader’s wish.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah. Figured it out on my way here. Had a lot of time to think.”

“Ava… I’m very sorry this happened.”

“Yeah.”

“I am, Ava. I didn’t know a leader could do that. I didn’t want it to happen.”

“Well, it did. …What happened to the leader? She collapsed.”

“She did.” He said, in a tired voice. “She’s weak. And only getting weaker. She told me she will be officially making me village leader, tomorrow.”

“Oh. Congratulations.”

“Thank you. She also sent me after you.”

“Oh?” she said, a little disappointedly.

“Not that I didn’t want to come.” He hurriedly added. “But she told me to tell you something.”

“What’s that?”

“She… knew, I think. Or guessed what this Class would do to you. She said that people would most likely distrust you, if not outright hate you, depending on what Skills you got. And that you shouldn’t try to enter a settlement. Of any species.”

Ava was too numb to care, but she knew that one for her few remaining chances at hope was just extinguished.

“But,” He said “there is a type of sanctuary, north-west from here. It’s a forest, near a village, called Helmrest and it’s guarded by a Nymph.”

“A Nymph?”

“Yeah. She said that when you get there, and she hoped you would, you should tell the Nymph your story. She also said that the nymph, most likely, will not be affected by your Class. That it will be a safe place after all… this.”

“Right. Thanks.”

“Of course.” He said, before hesitating. “I should go back. Some of our… some of the people need medical attention. I hope I’ll see you again Ava. Safe trails.”

She looked at him go, before calling out.

“Hey, Ban!”

“Yes?”

“When… when I was little…”

“…yes?”

“When I was little I… hadacrushonyou, bye!”

That was how Ava found herself running away from Ban, from her village and her past. She was an |Outcast|, hated by her people. Almost all of her friends were dead. Her family was dead. She would be unwelcomed at any place she’d go.

But she had received her punishment and lived. And there was a place that might accept her. The burden on her soul wasn’t lifted. The wound in her heart wasn’t closed. But she found herself walking forwards. Placing one hoof in front of the other. Running towards a forest.

A sanctuary.