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Chapter 102: Kyrian Tricilan

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After the raid, Marc Pointell worked quickly. I was impressed with his foresight in preparing all of this beforehand. First of all, he made sure that the mages, myself included, cast a [Preserve] spell on the Gargantuan Death Worm. A monster of this size was worth a fortune, even without a Core. The shell, the magic stones and possibly other insect monster eggs within it. With a [Preserve] spell, the monster’s blackened body remained.

Pointell had people waiting on standby and they came in as soon as the monster was felled. Not adventurers, but professionals whose entire job revolved around sites like this –breaking down monster parts and determining what was valuable and what was not. We walked through the makeshift camp, which had been raised in a matter of hours. People swore, pulled carts and tied down harness ropes around the great beast. Like a wake of vultures, they picked at the fallen monster.

I walked through the temporary camp, fighting down the roiling disgust that threatened to show on my face.

We did not wait to mourn the dead. We did not pay respect to those who gave their life fighting. As soon as the moment of danger had passed, we, the adventurers, carried on like before. Possessed by greed, we set out to claim our riches and rewards. The only people who had bothered were the Shielders, who gave a moment of silence for the fallen. It was to be expected, since they were the only group to experience casualties. The others… simply carried on.

How could death be so simple? How could people not realize that death was just a step away and that it mattered? Once someone was gone, that was it. You would never hear their voice again, never see their face again. Never again, could you make new memories. That was someone’s mother, someone’s son or someone’s best friend.

Sighing, I lifted the curtain flap and entered the Medical Tent.

“Mr. Kyrian.”

Aurora sat in front of me. She had her breastplate off to the side and would’ve been naked, except for the bandages slung around her chest, stomach and arm. Stole, the newest addition to our group, sat off to the side; sitting backwards on a chair with her arms hanging off the seatrest. The girl smiled upon seeing me, perking up considerably.

Off to the side, Skaris sat on a bed. He was being attended by a priestess. Similar to Aurora, he was shirtless. Numerous cuts and lacerations were being healed before me, glowing with a faint greenish light. He gave me an even nod which I returned.

“Ms. Aurora.” I bowed my head a fraction of an inch below hers, as was the custom in Turina. The difference in our social standing was clear: Bastard we both might be, but she was from a Great House. I was from minor nobility.

There was a strain in her smile, as she always did when I greeted her in such a way. She didn’t comment on it though, the lady was much too well-mannered for that. Much too kind to bring up such a minor inconvenience. I briefly wondered if the two beastmen in the tent could detect the subtleness in our exchange.

“How is he?” I asked the priestess.

She was covered from head to toe in clothes. A small slot in the veil over her face showed her eyes. “He will be fine, Magus Kyrian.”

I sighed in relief. “Thank you.”

“Simply my duty.” Her eyes curved, smiling. “Though if you are truly thankful, the Temple of the Nine is always open for alms.”

So she was an elf priestess. I nodded accordingly, careful not to smile too much or too little. “I will be sure to pay a visit, Priestess.”

After giving Stole another once over, the priestess left, leaving the four of us alone in the tent.

“Are you sure you do not need to be checked over, Mr. Kyrian?”

“No, I’m fine.”

“Ha! Don’t complain later.” Stole smirked, hooking a thumb at herself. “I’ll be taking us straight to Mister. No breaks allowed! I’ll get us there in one piece, safe and sound.”

Skaris scoffed.

“Actually, that’s what I wanted to talk about.” I fought the urge to fiddle with the hem of my robes. A childish habit from my younger years. “I don’t think anyone forgot. But the ship with the Church leaves the day after tomorrow. At dawn.”

Skaris scoffed once more. “We all know that, Kyrian. The ansssswer is ssssimple. We resssscue Sssslaveborn today. Resssst tomorrow, then we can make it on time for the Human Church’s exsssspedition.”

“I want to suggest dropping out of the Church’s request.”

I held my tongue in the ensuing silence.

“Mr. Kyrian,” Aurora said after a moment, careful as always in deliberating what it is that she exactly wanted to say. “I cannot claim to have known Mr. Lock as long as you and Mr. Skaris, but that does not seem to be Mr. Lock’s… modus operandi, to say the least.”

“It’ssss not.” Skaris confirmed, openly glaring at me. “Ssslaveborn would do what I ssssugessssted.”

“Yes, he would.” I answered. “But we are not Lock.”

They all frowned at me.

I dreaded saying the next words but they had to be said. It’s what Lock would want. “If we leave now, we will be endangering ourselves. Look at yourselves. Skaris, Ms. Aurora. You two are the most heavily injured. This battlefield is still crawling with monsters and now that the Gargantuan Death Worm has fallen, the Hwachas and Skeleton Vultures are starting to come out in full force.”

They looked at themselves, knowing that I was right. Me, a mage, lecturing the two warriors on the severity of their injuries. Normally, a situation like this should never have happened. But that was how bad it was. Skaris had bandages over his legs and all over his torso. Aurora was the same, albeit centered around her arms and head.

There were numerous studies published on the effect of Cores and people’s personalities, especially in adventurers. Cores that strengthened the body were likely to be associated with things like pain tolerance, inclination for risk and danger. Us mages, we like to study things, trying to make sense of what does not. What we did understand was the high death rate of adventurers which could have been prevented with sufficient rest. The two were running on heightened emotion from the battle and ignoring their own injuries.

Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

“You two are heavily injured.” I said into the silence.

“The priessstesss healed ussssss.”

But Aurora did not answer.

“There are things that healing magic cannot heal, Skaris. Mental Fatigue. Mana, the life energy which fuels the abilities from our Spirit Cores. You two worked together to stop the horde for the fire’s sake. You two stopped it cold and it’s not farfetched to say that you shaved hours off of the raid.” I spoke quickly, before Skaris could interrupt. “You earned a few hours. We should rest and then head for Lock.”

Skaris growled. “Tricsssilan.”

I flinched. He usually called me Kyrian, unless in the most direst of circumstances.

“Why are you sssaying thissss?” He said. “Thissss issss unlike you.”

“Wait a minute. Hold on.” Stole interrupted. She was young and probably younger than she seemed. I doubted the legitimacy of her Adventurer License but respected Lock’s decision far too much to question him on it. Right now though, with the way things were going, I wondered if it was the right decision to bring her along with us.

“Isn’t it ok? That, what’s his face again? Marc guy.” She clapped her hands together. “He said he’d help us. He’s going to lend us some muscle. We can ask for some really strong guys to help us, no?”

“I believe,” I drew out, refusing to meet Aurora’s eyes. “We should rest up and then leave by ourselves. Without the other adventurers.”

She stiffened.

Usually, I would not have picked up body language like this. Aurora was too well trained to show things like surprise or shock, even anger at times. But mayhaps because my attention was fixed on her entirely. Or perhaps it was a show of just how much she had been affected by my statement. I doubted the other two understood. Aurora and I were playing a game, masked within the veil of this conversation.

Because I’d just openly told her that I didn’t trust Marc Pointell.

I figured out his identity when I saw the two talk right before the Gargantuan Death Worm Raid.

“...Why?” Stole asked.

“...I believe that’s what Lock would want.”

Skaris slammed his fist on the bed, bending the metallic joint underneath the mattress.

No one spoke.

He snarled, standing up. “That issss not what Sssslaveborn would do. You know it, Trissscilan. He would rissssk hissss life, no matter how bloodied he was, to come and ressscue ussss. He’ssss done it in the past. In the Dessssssert, when we were nothing more than sssslaves. When you were jussst a losssst mage, sssseeking revenge.”

“He would rissssk everything to enssssure our livessss.”

“And that’s exactly why we must rest.” I said, meeting Skaris’ eyes of anger.

I never stood up to anyone like this before. Not in such a direct way. Always with the quiet voice but unmoving, stating my own opinions. But if other people wanted to go in one direction, who was I to stop them?

But today, I had to. Skaris was making a mistake. He didn’t know what was at stake here.

“He would risk his life, Skaris.” I continued. “But not ours.”

His eyes widened.

“...You’d do that to him?” He whispered.

“It’s not about what I want, dammit.” A bit of my frustration leaked out. I closed my eyes, calming myself. Growing angry here would do no good. It would only show Aurora how nervous I was. I had to remind myself that this was for Lock and all our own good. Even if they hated me after… as long as I honored Lock’s wishes, it would be fine. “Lock would never accept us walking willingly into danger.”

“And I did not come here to be protected by Ssslaveborn.” He snarled. “You dissshonor hisss memory.”

“And if we died because we failed to rest sufficiently, I’d be dishonoring everything that he tried to do.” I shot right back.

The two of us stared at one another.

It was Aurora who broke the silence for us. “Mr. Skaris. Ms. Stole. Would you mind if I spoke to Mr. Kyrian? Alone?”

Skaris held his end of the glare longer than I thought necessary. I turned my head to the side first, unused to such blatant warlike behavior. I was a mage. A bookworm. These kinds of things… I wasn’t good at it. Not in the least. My fights belonged on the negotiating table, where the blade was words. Fighting from a distance with my magic, even on the battlefield.

It was hypocritical of me. Me, a mage, who fought safely behind our own lines ordering the two about. Me, who’d never had to see the roaring maw of monsters, staring right at me in the face; speaking about the dangers that could be waiting for us. How funny it must seem to Skaris, who fought by Lock’s side, day in and day out.

Skaris breathed out slowly. “I will take a walk. Come along, Whelp.” Then he strode out of the tent, Stole giving us one mournful look before following after him.

Then it was just Aurora and I in the tent.

“Mr. Kyrian, I know what you are trying to avoid.”

I held my tongue.

“You do not trust, Mr. Pointell. Is that true?”

I didn’t answer.

“You do not need to answer. Of course not. That is not how the game is played.” She smiled faintly at me, a rare expression on her face. “But you will have to indulge me. I was never good at the game.”

“The lady is too kind.” I said flatly. “You hold me in much too high esteem.”

She nodded. “I see. Mr. Kyrian, do you believe that I want to rescue Mr. Lock alongside you? Alongside this party?”

I hesitated.

Again, I thought I saw her stiffen. In surprise and… and hurt.

Did she allow me to see it? Or was she truly not as good at playing the Game as she claimed?

No. It did not matter what she said. My goal was clear and I’d hardened my will awhile ago.

“Mr. Lock is in a unique position.” She said.

“He is suspected of being the leader of a lost tribe of orcs, the remnants of the Samak Horde. Though hardly hundred strong, rumors have a tendency to gather momentum of their own. Then there is the deal with [Aura], a closely guarded secret within the Turina Empire.” Aurora stood up from the bed and I saw her wince. “Right now, he is under a great deal of scrutiny, though Mr. Lock himself seems to be unaware of it.”

I gritted my teeth. “Did Pointell set up Lock in the Fracture? Was he behind Baran’s betrayal?”

“No.” Aurora shook her head. “I was Mr. Pointell’s hands and eyes during the raid. I was the one who reported his movements back to the guild.”

“...You and he belong to Turina.”

I thought she looked sad for a moment. “All humans in a high enough position belong to Turina and the Church, Mr. Kyrian. You of all people, should know that. With your time in the Akka Xalud Corps.”

“But I never reported Lock’s movements.” I answered. “I have no ties to Turina anymore. You on the other hand…”

She nodded. “Yes. I’m afraid I still have ties to House Vetilius. Regardless of my wishes.”

“He’s your handler.” I was referring to Marc Pointell.

“Not just mine, but handler for all the Bastards in Miltus at the moment.” The bastard scion continued, “And we all report to him. I have been tasked with watching Mr. Lock and his movements.”

“And you will continue to do so.”

“...Perhaps. Perhaps not.” She frowned as she said it.

While we were talking, I realized that she had stepped closer to me. One step and she could reach me.

My body wasn’t like the body of adventurers. I couldn’t run as fast as them nor could I ever be a match for them with the blade. Adventurers could kill mages with their bare hands in the right circumstances. And just now, I realized that during our talk, the self-proclaimed agent of Turina, bastard scion of Great House of Vetilius, on par with the cruel Akka Xaluds for which I spent most of my life serving, was within reach.

So when she spoke, it was with great relief that I continued the conversation.

“I have not reported to Mr. Pointell for quite awhile. I suspect that he already knows.”

“He already knows what?”

“That I am being honest with my intentions about this.” She gestured at the tent, to me and the flap leading outside where Skaris and Stole were no doubt eavesdropping. “That I plan to join Mr. Lock and you, Mr. Skaris and Ms. Stole with the best of intentions.”

“You cannot be serious.” It made no sense. “Lock is impressive but not that impressive. If Pointell wanted, he could crush us. He has the Church and the support of the Great Houses at his side, if he truly is an agent of Turina. You are risking your life to join us?”

“My life is at risk either way, Mr. Kyrian. The answer is, who do I want to be next to when danger comes?”

“Then Lock is the wrong answer.” I shook my head, remembering the Akka Xaluds. “We do not have the resources to protect you from… from the fallout of this. If you are looking for a way out of your situation with the Vetilius House, there are better options. People who could protect you. With power. With resources.”

“Protect me…” She said wistfully. “You’d be surprised, Mr. Kyrian, who could protect me and who couldn’t.”

I stared at her.

She took a deep breath. “We should leave now, Mr. Kyrian. Ms. Stole informed us that she sensed him during the battle, in the Scavenger’s stronghold. Best case scenario, he is holed up. Worst case scenario, he is being held captive or in the middle of battle as we speak. We do not have time for you to test my loyalties, trying to shake off the agents of Turina to keep Mr. Lock safe.”

Stole had sensed Lock? “When?”

“Right before the monster fell.”

I gritted my teeth. “We’d be walking out at night. The monsters will be-”

“Stronger due to the nighttime. Yes.”

“Even if I trust you, I cannot trust Marc Pointell’s men.”

“And neither can I.” She lifted her chin, something proud in her gaze. “I am with you, Mr. Kyrian. We should go, just the four of us.”

I tried to meet her eyes, trying to read her and failed.

But if Lock was truly in the Scavenger’s Stronghold… he needed us. Now.

Aurora spoke, a note of exasperation in her tone. “Mr. Kyrian. I have been at the front of every battle, risking my life alongside Mr. Locks and yours. I believe it is a bit too late to start suspecting me of my intentions.”

She was right. Logically.

But bastard’s are a suspicious sort and paranoid by nature. The last person I trusted sent my mother’s head stuck on a pike to my former employers.

I’d been so powerless back then. I had no choice.

“...Ms. Aurora, I’ll be watching you.” I felt my hand close into a fist over my staff.

She smiled at me. “I must say, I’m jealous of Mr. Lock. You and Mr. Skaris… are quite fond of him.”

“I will be right out. Please go ahead, Ms. Aurora.”

The warrior of gray hair strode past me, leaving a fragrance of steel and blood in her wake.

And the fear I’d been suppressing flooded into me.

My palms were sweating, knees weak and I leaned on my staff, arms feeling heavy. Splotches of sweat began to spread, stains spreading all over my robes already. Facing down Skaris and Aurora had taken all I had. Skaris never would, but for a moment, I believed that Aurora might have. Perhaps she’s different from the Akka Xaluds… but one never knew with Scions. She could have broken my neck with a single blow.

I’m not delusional. I know that I am starting to fall behind Skaris and had fallen behind Lock long ago.

I’m not like Lock. I don’t have the immunity to fear and the well of endless courage he shows. I do not have the decisiveness that he does. I do not want to risk my life.

I’m not a hero. I’m just… a mediocre mage, who made mistakes.

But when I imagined Turina Empire, closing their hands around Lock and ruining everything that he stood for, everything that we had all done to help people so far and putting an end to this chapter of life I’d been enjoying so much… four words came to mind.

Over. My. Dead. Body.

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