I stared at the door in front of me - the wooden panel door was clean. The simple metal handle would be so easy to pull on and open and yet my hand hesitated. I felt as if doing it would change something inside me and I didn't know what. So I hesitated, hovering somewhere between staying closed inside this room forever, and going outside because... because I was hungry.
Out there, that's where the world was. The world that had me live through what my fam- ... no, what my parents expected of me. The world that took away my mom. In here... In here it was safe. I pulled my hand back and turned away from the door. The room was still the same - walls painted with the depiction of the world somewhere outside. The easel with the unfinished painting of Stein was still there, as well as several miscellaneous items. And - the window. It too was a way the outside could get in here, into my world. My eyes narrowed at it, and I started searching for something to plug it with. Maybe some folded cloth on the table? Nope, nothing there. The painting? Too large. How about under the be-
My thought process ground to a halt as I noticed it. My shadow. There wasn't anything different about it, but... it was there. My entire body tensed, staring at the dark reflection of myself, brought about by the morning light coming in from the outside. "You don’t have to bear it all on your own." I muttered the very first words mom ever said to me as I stared at the shadow in front of me. Muttering was still a terrible habit to fall into, but I felt okay doing it this time because... I think that maybe I'm not completely alone. I don't know if my own shadow counts for much, but... I'm not completely alone. It is there and... there's Stein. She trusted him. It's... it's gonna be fine. Probably.
A moment later I went through the door, though I took care to keep my steps quiet and soft.
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I've already spent a whole week helping Stein run the inn. It was very difficult at first, trying to remember which table needed what drink delivered, but I got the hang of it. "Malin! Two beers to the second window table." Stein ordered me. "Use my full name!" I complained to him once again. We've had this discussion several times already, but I didn't like it when others used short nicknames for me. It reminded me too much of her.
Either way, I grabbed the two mugs he put on the counter and moved between the the assorted guests, each with different ideas of what being in the way meant. "Sorry, excuse me, pardon, sorry.." I muttered as I passed through the crowd and reached the appropriate table. I put the two mugs down on the table and looked at the two men there. "Need any- ... any..." my words died in my throat when I saw who they were. He was here. He who murdered her. Why?! Did he come here to finish what he started?! WHY IS HE HERE?! "No th-" he started speaking but froze midsentence when he saw me. I didn't wait for anything and ran as fast as my legs let me. Somewhere behind me I heard him speak. "I'm sorry". The tone was filled with regret.
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It's been half a year since he dared to show his face at the Pony, and almost a year since... since the accident. He came back several times, but I refused to be near him. The guards interviewed a bunch of people and eventually announced that a Hunter has gone berserk in middle of the town and the heroic members of David's mercenary company sacrificed themselves to prevent loss of innocent lives. At first I thought they just didn't know what happened, and I tried explaining it to them. Stein backed me up too, but we were only told that the 'circumstances were unclear' and 'they cannot prove that Dave and his three friends were guilty of anything'.
I hated it - the system that lead to my mom being murdered with no punishment given. I hated the guards for doing nothing about it. I hated that she was seen as some sort of crazed monster. I hated that the entire thing happened because the guards didn't think Hunters could be close enough to one another to think of each other as family. I hated that nobody seemed to care enough to start fixing all of those problems. But most of all, I hated Dave. I will never forgive him.
So why, WHY am I sitting across from him and listening his proposal. "You want to train me with weapons." I summed up the discussion. "Free of charge." He added. He looked... he looked like a broken man. He was slouched, his formerly well kept clothes were stained in several places, likely from spilled drinks. His voice was still filled with sorrow and regret - it always was ever since that day I stumbled into him in the inn. And by all that is holy he stank. I narrowed my eyes as I really took in the man in front of me. A broken husk of a man that he once was, haunted by the mistakes of his past. "What do you get from this?" My voice was cold, judgemental. I couldn't believe I was even entertaining the possibility of working with mom's murderer on... anything! For the first time he raised his head and looked at me, straight in my eyes. "Malin, I-" he started, but I immediately shouted over him. "DON'T CALL ME THAT. You don't have the right to call me that!" I was now standing up, staring at him as he lowered his head again. "Right, sorry. What I'll be getting is... I'll get freedom. From myself."
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"Your stance still sucks. You keep your legs too close to each other and it's screwing up your balance." Dave lectured me after our latest sparring bout. "But you're getting better." He eventually added as he sat down on a bench outside the Prancin' Pony. The weather was quite good today, so obviously I spent a large part of today getting battered and bruised by him. "Give it, eeh, like a few more years of practice and you'll actually be a menace with a sword."
"Though it would help if you stopped being so stubborn." He motioned to the weapon I just sheathed. A simple steel longsword - the selfsame one Stein gave to mom. "It's way too large for you because you're still growing." I just shook my head and sat down in the grass near him. Not next to him, I still haven't quite gotten over... over it all.
"Can't believe we've been training close to two years." He thought out loud. "I was convinced you'd tell me to fuck off when I gave you the offer." I grunted in response - a habit I picked up from Stein. This is how our conversations usually went - Dave would lecture me, but I would only speak with him if I needed clarification, or couldn't figure out another way to ask or answer. I looked over him - he looked like shit because today one of my attacks forced him to dodge into a literal pile of manure. But overall? He was doing better. At least he looked like a human being again and... that... made me feel something warm inside. We sat in silence for a few more minutes, both of us catching our respective breaths before he stood up again.
"One more round, then I'll let you go for today hunter." He offered me a hand with a smile. Hunter. That's what he called me ever since I banned him from using my actual name. I swat his hand away as usual and stood up on my own.
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Dave's swing was coming in from the right, aimed at my torso. I felt the weight of Stein's sword shift in my hand and blocked the attack, before swiping at him with the black dagger in my off hand. One of Mom's very own. Dave dodges back to protect his stomach but I take the opportunity to pursue. I keep him busy with the dagger, force him to focus on dodging before thrusting for his center of mass with my longsword. His eyes widen in fear as he sees the strike and screams "Stop!". I do, but only after the sword's tip rests against his chest, right above his heart. "I surrender." He drops his wooden training weapon. "You've won hunter."
I.. I won?
I always knew these spars were rigged - he refused to use an actual weapon, but when I said I wanted to use the real things he consented - almost too fast. But only now it clicked in my head what that truly meant. This entire time, I could have killed him and he would have the equivalent of a wooden stick to stop me. It never truly sunk inside my mind until today, as I held Dave's very life in my hands. "Can... can I move? Hunter?" He asked me cautiously. I stared at him for a few more seconds before pulling the sword away with an annoyed grunt and stowing it away inside its sheath.
"Phew! You had me worried there. Seriously, your expression was downright scary for a bit!" He let out a sigh of relief as he dusted himself off. "Told you you'd be good with a sword in a few years! And now look at you, a hunter able to beat the big bad evil." He chuckled to himself. I watched him stretch his arms - probably because I kept him pinned in a rather uncomfortable position for a while. "Not sure where you got the idea of using a sword and a dagger, but the style suits you." He said and I merely huffed in response. There were two daggers, originally meant to be used as a pair, though I only used one. Both were unnaturally dark as if they were always shrouded in shadows, no matter how bright the sun shone. Mom's daggers, her weapons. Her shadows were with me when I won. As she said they would.
"I think this is something to be celebrated! Actually, hunter, how old are you now?" He asked casually, and I felt my mount open. I felt the words I wanted to say but I hesitated. Dave picked up on my hesitation immediately. "Hunter?" He asked with only a hint of worry in his tone. I scowled and pointed the dagger at him. "David, the drunk mercenary, murdered my mother. Her name was Morana, and this was her weapon." I spoke as his eyes grew wide. I moved closer and put the dagger against his throat. He didn't move, and kept quiet. "Today I am eighteen years old, I've avenged her and killed her killer." I moved the weapon away from his neck and slid it into it's sheathe by my hip. "I'm not a nameless hunter. I am Malinka, and you've helped me right that wrong." I stated as a matter of fact and watched his reaction.
I wasn't sure if it was okay to forgive him, but I knew that I ... I couldn't hate him anymore. Not after he risked his life for years to try and help me. I offered him my hand.
He took the hand offered to him as if it was the most precious of gifts. That's the first time I've ever seen him cry.