"For what it's worth, I don't think you should turn back." Thomas stated as if it was the most obvious thing.
A feeling of bitterness filled me as he spoke. 'He doesn't get it. I can't live up to that... it's too much.' I let silence reign for a few seconds to come up with something else to respond with. "Then what do you think I should do instead?"
"Simple. Continue on your journey and join the hunters." His voice was steady and confident. The bitter feeling inside me ignited into fury, and I stood up from my bed despite my wounds' protests.
"How is that simple?!" I felt the anger in my voice but I didn't particularly care to be polite right now. "Even just thinking about raising my weapons makes me panic! How can I fight again?! And even if I do, I will never live up to mom's expectations! How am I su-"
He raised his hand and his voice interrupted me. I didn't fight him for dominance - despite the boiling blood within my veins. "Are those her expectations, or are they yours? Did she tell you that you have to follow in her footsteps, or did you just decide to do so because you adored her?"
I narrowed my eyes. "That's not what we're talking about-" but he once again interrupted. "It is part of the topic. One you are stuck on. The answer should be easy - yes or no - depending on where the truth lies."
Why was this bastard so composed! And why were my emotions spiraling out of control over such simple questions?!
"Reality doesn't like simplicity." I spoke through gritted teeth.
"And yet you treat those words as a simple fact in itself. The fact that there are underlying facts and causes behind something does not mean the answer cannot be simple."
"I- ... " I couldn't find a response to him. At least not one that would satisfy me. I wanted to scream or just dismiss him, but, it felt wrong to do that. Mainly because at no point did he do anything other than try to help. I inhaled sharply and took a moment to reset my mind. 'One, Two, Three' - a familiar exercise to help me regain my mental balance.
A few moments later I sat down again, and stared into his eyes. "I hate you."
Once again his answer was instant and without even a semblance of hesitation. "I accept that." He motioned for me to continue.
"You've got some nerve to come in here and give me advice I never asked for. I don't know what your god damn problem is, or even you for the matter. What do you even get out of this? Out of making me question everything I know?" I know my voice was filled with venom as I spoke - part of me hated it. The other part hated him more.
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"I get the satisfaction of knowing I did the right thing, no matter how uncomfortable it was. But most importantly, I get an ally I know I will be able to trust to perform when a dire situation occurs." I despised how calm and steady he was.
"So you're not even trying to pretend you're not doing this for your own reasons?!" I pointed at him accusingly. 'He can't deny this! He just admitted it!' My mind gloated.
"Everyone does things that benefit them. You helped me and mine because you were more afraid of being alone. Regardless of what motivated you, you helped us overcome something that likely would have killed us had you chosen otherwise. There is nothing wrong with being a bit selfish - it is self-delusion that truly twists a soul."
My feeling of superiority and victory vanished with each word he spoke, until all that was left was merely seething hatred and pain. I felt that he simply must be wrong, otherwise.... otherwise I had a lot to think about.
"Get out." I demanded. He obeyed without even a single hint of protest, and soon the only thing to keep me company was my shadow.
I felt like it was judging me, like I'd failed somehow.
"You can go to hell too." I vented at it, even though I knew it would achieve nothing.
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The mornings became routine as time passed by.
I woke up in slightly less suffering than the day before due to my wounds. Had breakfast and then sat here, alone. Sometimes I would stand by the door and eavesdrop on what's going on outside, but I felt like I couldn't leave. Not until I'd found an answer to what Thomas asked me.
Was it Mom who wanted me to be a hunter? Or was it something I wanted?
I didn't know, and my mind kept on going in circles. I hated this room I was stuck in, I hated how difficult this seemingly simple question was but most of all... I hated myself because I was unable to figure it out.
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By the end of the month my body was mostly healed thanks to the time that passed, yet the answer eluded me.
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Today the breakfast didn't come. No knocking on the door, nothing. I waited and waited for what must have been hours, but nothing changed.
The dimming light outside of my room eventually let me know that I've spent yet another day festering in here, but there still was no food. In the past week there were fewer and fewer voices outside my door - I did notice that much at least. Did something happen in Larton?
An hour later, hunger coerced me to leave the safe yet hateful confines of my self-imposed prison. As soon as I opened the door, there was an obvious waft of coffee and pancakes which I followed - carefully checking every corner until eventually I ended up in one of the common rooms.
It was small, clearly made to hold a private conversation between a few people. A large window to the outside opposite of the door I was looking through, with a circular table in the center surrounded with several chairs. On the table was a rich dinner prepared for two, though there was someone already seated on the side of table opposite the entrance.
"Thomas." I hissed his name as a curse, while he simply nodded.
"Come, the food's for you. I figured this is the only way to get you to start moving again." Of course he had a hand in this! As if I couldn't despise him more. I considered leaving there and then - though my stomach refused, and demanded to stay.
"Fine."