"Don't do this."
It was foolish asking Rodent that question, but it had to be asked, for it showed the old woman cared about him—a weight in her voice that did not go unnoticed by the man.
Given a spare [Adventuring Sack], Rodent stored the items Beatrice gave him.
"You know what I gotta do." Rodent bent over the table, setting the last item inside his sack. He raised and slugged it over his shoulder, bouncing it a few times, then looked down at Beatrice. "I already gave my word! Too late to back out now."
"But why would you do such a thing!?" Beatrice asked with even more pain in her voice. "You already know what happened! You can't win against that man." She shook her head. "And the Sword? It's impossible! You learned of it moments ago." Her eyes pleaded. "How can you assert you'll recover it?"
"Dunno." Rodent shrugged, ready for adventure. "Gut feeling."
"But there's nothing special about you!" Beatrice grabbed the bottom of his shirt, tugging on it. "Not a fighter—a warrior! How can you defend anyone… if you can't defend yourself!"
That struck a cord inside Rodent as he blinked and was taken to the past. He snapped out of it in a second, looking down at the worried old lady.
"Because… it's in my nature." Rodent was struck by this care from an elder. It occurred to him, then, that he had never had a grandparent, and he wondered if this was what that felt like. "I've been fighting against hopelessness my whole life. And I... could just never be bothered by it."
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Beatrice, blinking with an open mouth, listened.
"I never cared what it cost me—just as long as I could help someone else." Rodent smiled. "That made my friends angry—my doctors, angrier. But I didn't care." He saw into the past. "I did as I liked. I liked being an idiot. And I think other people liked that I was an idiot, too."
He shook from his trance and dropped to a knee, coming face to face with Beatrice, wearing a warm expression. "And even if I fail, I show everyone what is happening is wrong, and that I'm willing to give my life for it."
Beatrice stared. "B-But how... can you have such faith in yourself?"
"Because I'm dumb," Rodent said seriously. "And incapable of doubting myself." His head bowed. "Making impossible promises forces me to really get my shit together." He held out his hand.
Beatrice shook her head as though her body was still in rejection, but her eyes and soul remained locked on the man. She wanted so badly to call him an idiot and a fool and say that he was talking foolishly. Yet there was a swirling in her heart, a light in her soul that was becoming stronger as she listened to the first caring person in a long, long time. "You… really think you'll find the Sword, bring it back?"
"I'll make your grandson proud." Rodent still held out his waiting hand. "I'm not the next hero. I won't get rid of Deskar." He nodded. "But I'll bring back that sword, get Steinith to leave, and help this village recover."
His other hand reached into his pocket and pulled out his notebook. "I'll even put it in my [Quest Log] to make it official!"
Beatrice shed a single tear, taking Rodent's hand and shaking it in a sacred promise. They closed into a hug they both enjoyed.
"You'll need more than just goods for your trip." Beatrice slipped and turned away. "Come. You need gear."
Rodent remained on his knee, confused. "What do you…"
Beatrice turned, smiling. "You're like my grandson. What fits him should fit you."