The aftermath destroyed my heart.

The situation itself had been bad. Many had died, including three innocents, who we possibly could have saved with better planning and less rushed actions. Simply the amount of blood and body parts in the room was enough to ruin sleep for who knows how long.

What really made me wish to die was the misery afterward. I was forced to watch as the mana workers, freed of shackles and ropes, mourned their fallen friends. They thanked us with half-hearted gratitude, acknowledging us as their saviors. Yet, nobody could truly call us heroes, not with the girl’s cries ringing in our heads.

The child had understood what had happened. She saw her dead father. And it would haunt her for the rest of her life.

The surface wasn’t any better. I wanted nothing more than to hide back in our wagon, and to forget today existed. Instead, Darko took me to the Elder’s cot to deliver the news of what had happened. I was too afraid to excuse myself in fear of what threats Darko would offer for declining.

Meryv was the first to greet us. She thanked the Moons at the sight of her daughter, pure relief on her face as she hugged the child.

Happiness evolved to depression when she learned of her husband’s fate, and of the horrors her daughter had witnessed. The family was broken, lucky to be alive at all.

Darko apologized to Pearl and the mana workers. He hadn’t delivered a heroic event as he had hoped. The cultists had been prepared for his attack. He expressed his deepest sorrow for failing to save everyone. This was a time to mourn, not to celebrate.

The workers disagreed. They told us the story of how this all happened, how one day the cult attacked the mines, replacing the operation with their own. The cultists treated existing mana workers as slaves, using forceful labor to steal mana into their experiments. Six of the men had died before Darko had arrived, and more would have died. For Darko to stop this all with only three more casualties, he’d performed a miracle. The men showed their thanks.

Deep down, however, they were all just as broken as I was.

Some Goddess’s apostle I am, I thought. If I wasn’t so damn afraid of my job, I could have helped these people. Shiela’s system provided tools. I could have cast “Arcane Snare” on the cultists attempting to kill the hostages, or I could have ensnared the cultist mage herself. But alas, I was too afraid to as much as practice Shiela’s magic.

What remained was cleanup duty. Darko took me to speak at the Guild Post. He informed staff of what had happened, then paid his own money for the Guild to set up a “mission.” He requested the Guild provide help to the village in any way possible. A job advert was placed, offering pay for anyone who spent their time helping the village.

Remy stayed behind in the mines. She emerged half an hour later with that weird urn. Somehow, the urn felt slightly fuller than before. And even more weirdly, Remy’s outfit contained not a speck of visible blood.

What did I do to help? Nothing. As usual, I was absolutely useless. My help wasn’t asked for, and I didn’t volunteer. Not that I wanted to do anything; I simply wished to distance myself from the situation as fast as possible.

And thus, half an hour later, I found myself safely back in the dark corner of our wagon. The “adventure” was over, and the journey would continue. Towards our next city. Towards more adventures. Misadventures.

“The driver insisted on finishing his game of cards,” Shena said with a sigh, stepping into the wagon. She was the last to arrive; all of us stood or sat on our spots in the cramped wagon. “They’re playing the tournament style.”

“That’s fine,” Darko said. “We’ll make it to Arkber just in time. Preparations will have to hurry, that’s all. Remy, how was the cleanup?”

“Royalty will have to deal with the bloodstains,” Remy said. “I grabbed the bodies. Cultist bodies, that is. It’s a shame their mage escaped.”

“You no breeds wield the oddest spells,” Rakash said. “The mage abandoned her people by teleporting away?”

“‘Crystal Chrysalis’ is what she used,” Remy said. “Not an easy spell, especially the latter part of her trick. As is typical, expert mages are the most cowardly. They’re afraid to risk all the years of practice and prowess for a fight they’re not certain they will win. Had she decided to truly fight, one of us could have been harmed.”

I sat in my corner as the team discussed. How could everyone talk so nonchalantly? I barely noticed any difference in the air at all. Nobody smiled, not even Darko, but that was about the extent of our mourning. Didn’t the village deserve a moment of silence? A day or two to mourn?

“Cill,” Darko said, bringing my attention back to the conversation. “You did well. I’m proud of how you handled today. The cultists were scared as hell of your presence.”

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“Mm,” I said.

“That is to say, stay determined and you’ll turn into a proper adventurer in no time.”

I looked away. How exactly had I done anything well? In what world was I determined? This mission was a total failure.

“Cill…” Darko said. “I don’t like it when you go quiet. You’re not telling us what you really want to say.”

Please… I thought. Can’t I rest for five minutes?

“Cill?” Darko asked.

“I have nothing to say,” I said. “I just need some sleep.”

Darko stepped closer. “Do we have to go over this conversation again? All of us can tell you’re lying. If there’s something troubling you, for the love of the daylight moons, don’t let it brood in your head.”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I said.

Darko studied my slumped posture. “I mean it when I said you did well. You didn’t panic, you didn’t freeze at the sight of fighting, and you didn’t totally lose your mind. This is a good start. The future is what’s important.”

“I am losing my mind,” I blurted out. “I’m not determined in the slightest. I’m terrified. This whole operation was a mess. How are all of you so nonchalant?”

“Admittedly, this job was a failure,” Darko said. “I made too many mistakes. All three men would have survived had I taken better precautions. Still, this could have gone worse. At the end of the day, we defeated a cultist operation and saved the majority of people involved. The royalty would consider this a resounding success.”

“I…” I said. “I don’t wish to argue with you. But I’m not fit for this. I’m really not. I hate seeing death. The only reason I’m here is because I have to.”

Everyone’s silent eyes drew to me. Remy bore the same saddened eyes she gave to Meryv’s child. Shena and Rakash looked concerned, their gazes not much better. The looks pierced my skin, pinching at what remained of my heart.

“The world is cruel,” Darko said. “But you are correct on one part. You’re here because you’re forced to—through our fucked-up fate. To some extent, this is true for all of us. None of us want to hunt cultists. But as things are, Azetoth’s screwed-up cult exists. If nobody opposes them, the cult will continue to exist. Don’t forget that the cult is after you, and they wish to see you dead.”

I can’t… I’ll break. I can’t do this anymore. No more cultists…

“Am I cruel for dragging you into this?” Darko asked. “Perhaps. I’m selfish if nothing else. But the truth is, Cill, you are a mage. Mages don’t survive by rejecting their fates. A strong will is not trained by sheltering the mind from danger. Mages need to train, to enforce risks instead of fearing them. Adventurers, especially mages, can’t use failures as excuses for moping fits.”

“I’m not having a ‘moping fit.’ This is just who I am. A useless waste of life.”

Darko was taken aback by my words. He froze for a moment, then scowled. “Don’t say that. I won’t allow you to say that.”

“But it’s true,” I said. “Your assessment might be right. I don’t blame you for trying to train me.” Really, this was all Shiela’s fault. The Goddess had tricked me into this. “But I can’t fight the cult. I’m too weak for this life. Maybe I should just take your third option. It will be the best for us all. You won’t have to worry about me, and I won’t have to deal with cultists.”

The girls listened to my words in shock. A wave of guilt washed over me. I fought it back.

“Cill.” Darko lowered to my level and grabbed my shoulders. “Think about what you’re saying! You can’t possibly tell me you’d rather die than give this your all. We are all on your side here. Rooting for your success. There is no need to give up because a few missions didn’t go as planned.”

“And what reason is there to keep going?” I asked with volume I didn’t know I could manage. “If I learn magic, I’ll have to fight more cultists or enslave myself for eternity. What reason is there to live for an existence like this?”

“Cill…” Darko said calmly. “You are entirely right. None of us disagree with you. This world is not pleasant. That is precisely why we fight to change this fact. No matter how horrible life becomes, no matter how many losses we suffer, the worst outcome is to lose our will to care.”

“What if I could never care in the first place?” I asked. “What’s the point of forcing myself to change, when whatever I grow attached to immediately gets their throats slit?”

Darko had no immediate response. Nobody knew what to do or say. I didn’t blame them.

Dangerous emotions clouded my head. I wasn’t thinking clearly. All sorts of fucked up chemicals brewed inside, using me as a cauldron. I hadn’t eaten properly, and all around I felt like absolute shit. These weren’t the types of decisions one should make in the state I was in.

I stood up. “I’m going for a walk. I need to think alone.”

I expected Darko to protest a dozen times over. He would never let me wander off alone while cultists were possibly after us.

To my surprise, perhaps through the shock of my actions, nobody rushed after me. I stepped out of the wagon, then turned toward the jungle-like woods on the eastern side of the main road.

It was about time the misunderstandings were cleared. Shiela had sent me to the wrong world. Or perhaps this trick was simply a punishment. Regardless, the experiment had gone on for long enough. I wasn’t meant for this world.

Shiela and I would have a long conversation tonight.