Shadow charged at a tree, pulling his giant two-handed sword out and hacking away at it. He screamed at the top of his lungs, bellowing as he struck the tree again-and-again. He fell to his knees as everyone slowly made their way over to him, and he cried in earnest—anger giving way to despair.
“Shadow…” Honeypot got to him first, bending down and putting a hand softly on his back. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Shadow looked up at them with a look of such sorrow that Orion’s heart would have broken had he been able to feel anything at that moment. “I’m what’s wrong. The System gave me the power to do what I wanted, and I’m trying to sneak around like a coward again!” He yelled the last word at himself more than anyone else.
“What do you mean, Shadow?” Orion stepped forward, confusion clouding his own emotions temporarily. “What can we do to help?”
“The powers the System gave us—don’t you see? You guys are supposed to be the smart ones!” He glared at them in accusation. “It gave everyone what they wanted or needed before we died in our previous life. Honeypot wanted to not be seen, so he gets invisibility. It gave you something that would have saved you and your sister, Orion—the ability to teleport yourself and others out of the way. Arika, you probably wanted strength. The ability to destroy anything or anyone in your way. Am I wrong?”
Arika paled but said nothing.
“And me…” A look of disgust crossed Shadow’s face. “I wanted the unwavering ability to protect those around me. The System gave me that and more, and what did I want to do with it? I wanted to sneak around like a stupid fucking Rogue…”
A scream tore from his throat again, but this time filled with more despair than anger.
“I’m such a coward that I did the exact same thing I did in my previous life. I’m pathetic.” He put his head in his hands, his chest heaving as he took deep breaths.
“I’m sorry you’re feeling this way right now, buddy,” Honeypot tried to reassure. “There’s nothing cowardly about cool-rogue-shit, though. Just because you want to attack from the back—”
“Don’t. Please.” Shadow cut him off, picking up his sword again and slamming it into the ground with one hand. “Not right now. You don’t understand…”
“I’m sorry.” Honeypot put his hand on Shadow’s extended arm, lowering it down from the hilt of the sword. “You’re right. I don’t understand. Why don’t you tell us what happened? If you want to, of course.”
Shadow stood, pulled his sword from the ground, and put it into his inventory. He was unmoving for a long moment, then turned and walked back to the fire, taking a seat in his chair.
They followed him, taking their respective seats. Orion noticed Arika place her chair back toward the fire, closer to the rest of them, before she sat down.
After a long pause, and some deep breaths, Shadow began.
“I was a chef in my previous life. I worked long, hard hours, and never found the time to make a family of my own. My brother did. He married his high school sweetheart right out of school, and they wasted no time in starting a family.”
His lip quivered, but he continued.
“Both our parents and his wife’s parents passed away when we were younger. They didn’t have much of a support system with two young kids, but they did the best they could. They had a daughter and a son, and they spoiled those damn kids the best they could. I helped where my long hours allowed, too. I loved those two like they were my own, and I never minded not having kids, knowing that I could always settle for being the cool uncle—”
He cleared his throat and took a few deep breaths before continuing, doing his best to hold his emotions at bay.
“When my niece was twelve and my nephew was eleven, I was minding the kids, so my brother and my sister-in-law could have a night out for their anniversary. They had this old piece of shit Ford Pinto that only started half the time. My sister-in-law told my brother, time and time again, that they had to get something safer for the kids, but they never scraped enough together to replace it…”
His voice grew strained, and he stopped, holding his hand up to signify he needed a moment.
“On the way home, they were t-boned by a drunk driver, and their piece-of-shit car was torn to pieces. The only solace is that it was quick. They were killed instantly. And from then on, it was just the rug-rats and I. They became my kids, and I became their dad. The poor kids didn’t handle it well, of course. Losing both of their parents at such a young age—who would? My brother and I had been sixteen and seventeen when our parents died… that was hard enough, but eleven and twelve? I did the best I could to provide for them. I took a job with smaller hours to be around them more, and we got by on a pretty tight budget. With my kitchen skills, I was at least able to provide them with nutritious food despite the lack of funds.”
He shook his head, tears spilling as he relived his memories.
“I splurged one day and took them out for ice-cream to celebrate my daughter’s fourteenth birthday. They both got bubblegum flavor with cookie dough chunks…” Shadow laughed and wiped tears from his eyes. “Those two had such terrible taste—just like their dad, I suppose.”
He took a deep breath and let it out slowly.
“That was the night a man with an AR15 had a psychotic break. He came running into the ice-cream parlor, screaming something about people tracking him and listening in on him…”
Shadow trailed off, thinking to himself for a long moment before he continued.
“I ran. I took the kids with me, of course, but I ran. I tried to lead them out of the back of the shop, but our retreating forms made the perfect target. He must have emptied his entire magazine. I’m not a gun guy, but it felt like the bullet-fire lasted forever. They—my kids—”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Shadow choked up and had to compose himself before continuing.
“They died. Both of my kids… they died. I didn’t shield them. I could have protected them, even with my own body. I should have protected them. I was their guardian. I was the one person in the world that should have protected them. Instead, I ran. I didn’t realize I did the wrong thing until after their small bodies went limp—I turned and saw them—”
Shadow cut off as he descended into misery and wailed.
Honeypot tried to console him.
“It’s alright, Shadow…” He put his arm around him. “I’m so sorry…”
They sat there patiently, waiting for Shadow to continue if he chose to. Gizmo and Honeypot consoled him, both sitting close beside him and touching him comfortingly.
Orion had known that it would end this way; he knew the second that Shadow mentioned the two children, that they would meet a terrible fate.
After all, that’s why they were all here, isn’t it? Tragic circumstances and tragic ends…
But knowing it was coming didn’t take away the despair or the sadness that Shadow’s story brought. Orion couldn’t help but think of his sister, and if he had any more tears to cry that night, they would have fallen.
“I don’t recall exactly what happened…” Shadow continued. “Even reliving my memory in first-person, it was blurred and incomplete. I lost myself after they died, I know that much. I charged him, doing what I should have done in the first place. I ran at him head on. I think I knew I would die. I heard him reload the gun, but I didn’t care. Part of me wished for an end to it all, I suppose, after what happened. I remember wishing that I had protected them—wishing that I had the strength to protect them. Even now, it feels like it happened yesterday.”
He scoffed himself bitterly.
“And what does the system give me?” Shadow slammed his gauntleted fist into the ground. “It gives me strength and a class that could protect people…” He looked around at everyone, his eyes bloodshot, then gestured at himself. “And look what I have done with it—nothing. I wanted to run and hide—again. No wonder I didn’t feel comfortable being around people. I don’t deserve to be around anyone.”
“Shadow…” Honeypot said. “Do you really think we would have gotten this far without you? You have protected us. We not only want you here—we need you here. Maybe your protection isn’t as obvious as Gizmo’s…” Honeypot turned and kicked the small robot lightly.
“Harder, please.”
“Later, you little deviant.” Honeypot turned back to Shadow. “How many times have you killed something with your sword while yelling some cool-rogue-shit? How much damage have you done single-handedly in our fights? Not just that, but you’ve intentionally taken blows that were meant for us. You have literally been protecting us.”
Shadow didn’t respond. He just stared at the ground, lost in his own thoughts. Honeypot knelt down in front of him, putting his hand on his shoulder again.
“We don’t expect you to get over it straight away, or ever. It’s normal to feel shattered after what you remembered. Hell, I know I do, and I personally think I had it pretty good compared to what you’ve had to go through.”
Honeypot looked around, a small but genuine smile on his face as he looked at each of them in turn.
“We need you, big guy. We need you and your protection. We need your sword, your chiseled jawline, your cool-rogue-shit, and most of all—”
“We need your cooking,” Arika finished.
Shadow let out a snort, and a smile threatened to cross his face.
“I hate to say it, but she’s right, Shadow. Please don’t make me cook again. It was both embarrassing and disgusting.”
Honeypot stood up, offering his hand to Shadow. He took it, letting Honeypot help him to his feet.
“I just need some time,” Shadow said, face blank once more. “For now, I think I just need some sleep.”
“Me too.” Arika turned and walked to her tent, saying nothing as she ducked inside.
Shadow began cleaning up Honeypot’s mess, but Honeypot shoo’d him away, insisting that he could handle a little clean-up. Shadow thanked him wordlessly and left for his tent.
Orion sat by the fire, letting himself be mesmerized by the dancing flames as Honeypot cleaned Shadow’s portable kitchen. Before long, Honeypot was finished, and he sat beside Orion as he let out a long, exhausted sigh.
“Do you think she’ll be okay?” Orion asked, dipping his head toward Arika’s tent.
“I’m sure she will be, in time. As we all will.” Honeypot punched his arm lightly. “We can’t force her to tell us her story. Maybe she never will, if it’s too painful. We just have to let her decide what’s best for her.”
“You know, Honeypot, after today, I really don’t think I’m suitable to be the so-called leader of this party.” Orion saw Honeypot through the numb feeling that only tears provide. “You know the right thing to say and do when people are hurting. I feel useless. You’ve had experiences just as painful as ours, yet you’re able to push it aside and care for others when they need it.”
Honeypot snorted. “I have no idea what I’m doing. I’ve just had years of practice deflecting serious issues with humor. For better or worse, it’s my coping mechanism.” He turned and shot Orion a wry smile. “Don’t mistake my thrashing about for something measured and calculated—I’m just running from my problems. That’s what I do.”
“I think you’re being too hard on yourself—”
“Oho! I’m being too hard on myself? You just experienced the—well, you remembered what you did—and you’re saying you’re a bad leader because it rocked you? Why? Because you don’t know how to fix your broken subordinates? You are broken too, my friend. We all are. Maybe it’s you who’s being too hard on himself.”
“Maybe you’re right. Honestly, I’m so emotionally exhausted that I don’t even know what—” Orion turned his head slowly and glowered at Honeypot, who was smiling back innocently. “You did that on purpose, didn’t you?”
“Did what?”
“You put yourself down, knowing I’d say something, just to turn it around on me.”
Honeypot let out the most annoying giggle Orion had ever heard and adopted a villainous posture.
“You activated my trap card, Yugi-boy.”
Something in the air changed, and it wasn’t Honeypot’s attempt at humor. A pressure lifted, and a wind that Orion hadn’t noticed was missing stirred up anew. Orion realized the bubble must have expired. Honeypot had the same realization.
“Well, I guess our free time is at an end.” Honeypot stood and brushed his leathers. “Now, why don’t you get some rest? I can take the first watch. There could still be some baddies in this forest now, after all.”
Before Orion could protest, Gizmo did.
“Hmmmm. You have all just experienced great emotional damage. According to my data, humans experiencing grief can have difficulty regulating their emotions—as do those who have had less than six hours of sleep. I believe that the most logical course of action would be for me to take every watch, and for all of you to get rest.”
“Hey!” Honeypot leveled an accusing finger at Gizmo. “Was that an option all along? You said you needed rest to function!”
“Lack of proper rest results in my system running at non-optimal levels. It could result in anything from improper calculations to total system malfunction and spontaneous combustion—after repeated periods of wakefulness, of course. It is, therefore, usually recommended that I get the same amount of rest as you require.”
“Jesus. I think I’ll just stay up,” Orion said. “I’d rather be tired and sad than have you exploding everywhere.”
“One night will be more than manageable.” Gizmo hummed in thought. “I should only show minor signs of fatigue tomorrow, and there is almost a zero-percent chance of spontaneous combustion.”
“… almost?” Honeypot asked.
“It is becoming increasingly clear to me that nothing in this world is certain. I can, however, ensure you that if I spontaneously combust tomorrow, it will not be due to a lack of sleep.”
“Well, as long is it’s not because of lack of sleep, my conscience is clear! Good night!” Honeypot whirled and headed for his tent.
“Wait!” Orion called out, to which Honeypot turned around. “I have to know… I have to know if you did it on purpose.”
“Did what, glorious leader?” Honeypot asked, a look of innocence plastered on his face once more.
“Tricked me into saying you were too hard on yourself, only to turn it back on me.”
“You…” Honeypot wiggled his fingers mysteriously, backing into his tent. “Will never know.”