Chapter Ten: Regret
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[Mana Surge]
Draw on your mana pool to gain the [brutal] trait, increasing your spell damage by [20%] for [60] seconds. While active, dealing critical damage applies the trait [resistant, stackable] for [6] seconds, increasing your physical and magical resistance by [5%] for each instance. This effect can trigger once every [1] second.
> Mana Cost: 50
> Ability Level: 1
> Ability Upgrades: NA
> Ability Synergies: Scatter Shot, Spells [damaging]
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Bly narrowed his lips somewhat, hardly having touched his breakfast as he stared into the sage terminal with painstaking contemplation.
Mana Surge hadn't been at the top of his list, at least in terms of abilities he’d been considering, but then that was before he’d met Bold Arrow.
After all, where the classed gained and upgraded their abilities through the system level up process, the classless could only achieve something similar through incredible amounts of patience and practice. By utilizing the ability they wanted via virtual system access, a classless could eventually make that temporary ability a permanent one. It was because of this reality that Bly had been operating under the assumption that his next ability ought to be geared towards dealing with spawns in a more mana efficient manner, given his proclivity for delving alone.
But Alyse’s observations had made him question things about his own approach to magic that up until last night he’d thought were invariable, and he couldn’t really ignore it.
His eyes had been opened to the possibilities of what being part of a team could be, ever since meeting Bold Arrow, while at the same time his fears about his true nature being discovered were being alleviated each day. He still kept his guard up, that much would never change, but it was nice to finally know that this was something he could do, or even that it was somewhere he might belong. And for some reason, that sensation of belonging made him want to strive for nothing less than his best.
And for a sorcerer, damage really was best.
Besides, he couldn’t get the idea of fighting a boss out of his head.
More than anything, if push came to shove, he wanted to be right there among the others doing as much damage as possible before he ran out of mana. Was it foolish to think that he could stand toe-to-toe with someone like Bredic or Vineta? Like Xander? Probably, but that didn’t change how he felt about it.
Whatever the case, he was in this now. For better or worse, that meant he had to give it his all, regardless of nerves.
It was then that a sudden knock on the door pulled Bly out from within his own musings, and he stood up from the dining table all at once. Perhaps it was best not to dwell on things he couldn’t control, and so he resigned himself to say, “Coming!”
A burst of cold air sent a shiver down Bly’s neck as he opened the front door.
The mid-morning sun glistened across the snow-covered streets and gabled rooves of town, forcing a narrow gaze as Bly attempted to reconcile with the immediate brightness. As his sight adjusted, he saw a lone, hooded figure standing daintily by the porch fence, picking haphazardly at a prickly twig growing on a slender conifer tree, which leaned slightly over the banister. Though he instantly recognized the dark brown bow slung over the figure’s shoulder, and frowned somewhat.
“Lisel?” He asked peculiarly.
She turned and looked at him through the opening of her hood, her blue eyes and auburn hair somewhat darkened by the shade of the awning overhead. Their eyes locked, her expression was pale and inscrutable for a moment, before an awkward half-smile betrayed her, as she said, “Good morning, Trelen. I… I know it’s our rest day, so I hope I’m not disturbing you. Mister Ralf was kind enough to tell me where you lived.”
“No—” Bly shook his head at once, “Not bothering me at all.”
An awkward silence filled the air momentarily, cut only by the sounds of other townsfolk going about their business. Several seconds passed by as Bly watched Lisel idle in place, which was when it occurred to him that he was probably supposed to invite her inside. Feeling the warmth of embarrassment on his face, Bly stepped to the side slightly and opened the door a little wider.
“I was—”
“Did you—sorry, did you want to come in?” Bly asked through a blushing wince, mildly irritated by his poor sense of timing. He could fight a dozen ice demons with perfect coordination, and yet couldn’t even navigate the simple task of having a guest over.
Lisel stared for a moment, then chuckled, offering a simple nod in reply, “Sure. Thank you.”
Stepping back inside, Bly turned and grumbled for a moment as he realized the ungodly sight of the living room.
The once sparsely furnished cottage was overflowing with clutter. Bartolo’s magical instruments were mostly stored away in giant crates and containers. Some of them were still set up in a corner here or there, including his telescope, though most of his effects were piled up along the wall near the fireplace. Alyse’s assortment of unusual flora lined the windowsills and shelves. They broken up from time to time by an odd knick-knack or two; the worst of which was a creepy nesting doll in the shape of a fox sitting front and center on the rearmost shelf, glaring at anyone who dared step any closer to the couch. Blychert wasn’t blameless in all of this either thoough, as many of his spell journals and tattered robes—which he’d been meaning to learn how to sew—as well scattered pieces of chalk from his ritual magic training, lie everywhere.
“Sorry about the mess…” Bly groaned, rubbing the back of his head with a telling smile, “We don’t usually have guests.”
“Oh, it’s alright. I’m used to it, you know. Lots of siblings will do that.” Lisel reciprocated the friendly expression, stepping into the living room a bit farther as she studied its contents curiously. Removing her hood, she asked, “What is all of this?”
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“Junk, mostly. Half of it belongs to my master.” Bly explained, thinking better than to use Bartolo’s names for now, “The rest of it’s Alyse’s.”
“Alyse?” Lisel tilted her head towards him, as her finger softly caressed a stem of sageroot by the window, “Is she your sister?”
Divine only knows it feels like that sometimes. Bly amused himself with the idea, but shook his head in response, saying, “Nah, just a—friend of my master’s. She’s actually been helping me train while he’s away on business.”
Lisel didn’t respond this time.
Instead, she silently wrapped around the length of the living room, stopping at the nesting doll for a moment. She reached up, and her finger traced the outline of its well-worn features for a time, almost as if she recognized it, or had thought of something fondly as a result of seeing it. In any case, the silence was a bit confusing to Bly.
“Did you want something to eat? Or… to drink?” He thought to ask. They didn’t keep much food in the house, he realized, but Alyse did have quite an assortment of tea leaves. If nothing else, he could at least brew a pot of tea, otherwise she'd have killed him a long time ago.
Snapping back to reality, Lisel looked across the room and shook her head, “I’m alright, thanks. Though… it looks like maybe I’ve caught you at a bad time.” She gestured towards the dining table, or rather towards the untouched breakfast, with a slight smirk,
“Eh.” Bly shrugged, “It’s been sitting there cold for at least a few candle-marks. You can have it if you want, but I wouldn’t recommend it. Alyse’s cooking goes down better if it’s scorching hot; masks the flavor, or lack thereof.”
Lisel giggled, and Bly couldn’t help but think that it was a stark contrast to the demeanor she’d displayed yesterday afternoon while they’d all been dining at the White Horn. That look she’d given Xander was an off-putting one. Was now a good time to ask her about all that? Well, he supposed there was only one way to find out for sure.
But the second Bly opened his mouth, Lisel spoke instead.
“You want to know about Xander, don’t you?” She asked plainly, taking several steps forward towards the dining table, “I saw the way you looked yesterday. You want to know why we’re really here? In Kelvalder, I mean.”
Blychert’s eyes widened.
“Sorry to put you on the spot.” Her mouth scrunched slightly, “I’m good at reading terrain, but I can read body language too. It’s… sort of part of being a ranger.”
To that, Bly offered a slow nod in response.
“You’re a member of our party right now, so…” She sat down at the dining table, removing her bow and setting it next to her on the bench. Slowly, she looked up at him with a serious expression, “I think you have the right to know.”
Without another word, Bly slowly took his seat on the opposite bench at the table, and looked at her expectingly.
Seemingly lost in a thought for a moment, Lisel’s gaze eventually met his, and she said, “Bold Arrow was Xander’s idea, you know. Or I guess it’s more accurate to say that it was Xander’s and Norman’s idea.”
“…Norman?”
A small frown creased her lips, “He was our healer. And… he was Xander’s best friend.”
A hard lump formed in the back of Bly’s throat. He didn’t want to say it, but he did anyway, “Was?”
Lisel nodded, “It was three months ago. We were exploring the Silver Vault, and… we shouldn’t have been on the second floor—never should have been there. I guess maybe we were lured into a sense of comfort, because everyone was doing really well, and we were holding our own even against higher rated monsters. But… there was a trap room.”
“Trap room…” Bly murmured to himself. He'd never encounter something like that himself, but he'd heard about them from Irvin's older brother; heard about how they could be as deadly as the monsters inside the dungeons themselves, if not more so.
“There was nothing anyone could do.” She shook her head. A minute passed in silence, Bly not knowing what he was supposed to say, and so he said nothing. Before long, she added, “Anyway, it was Norm’s idea for us to come out here. He’s the one that found the quest, you see. Bold Arrow’s never been assigned one before, if you can believe it This would have been our first quest together.”
“Really?” Bly asked skeptically. Even he’d managed to get a couple of quests, measly as they were.
“Most quests in Frostwall go pretty quickly, and they’re mostly reserved for parties with high reputation.” Lisel smiled softly, but said in a more wistful tone of voice, “Norm really must have pulled off a miracle to get one.”
“And so, this quest was to find a rare drop in the Gleaming Caves?” Bly asked, still a bit confused, but starting to think he understood the situation.
Lisel nodded, “I guess someone in Frostwall really wanted it, and they were paying good money too. We were going to surprise Xander for his birthday, but, well…”
“I get it. You don’t need to explain.” Bly interjected, seeing the discomfort on her face. However, a thought occurred to him then, and so he asked, “I guess that’s why he wants to find it so badly? It’s because of Norman?”
“That’s what I thought, at least at first.” She said confusedly, looking away towards the nearest window as she added, “But now I’m not so certain. Ever since we got here, it feels like all he wants to do is go to the dungeon—like he needs to. It's not like him at all. I’m starting to think he wants to do this for himself more than anything. And… it scares me a little.”
“You think he’ll do something stupid?” Bly put it to question, putting his arms up on the table as he leaned forward somewhat, “Because he blames himself?”
“Of course, he does.” She replied, and her gaze turned back to meet his, “But we all carry regret for what happened. I think he thinks that he has to carry it alone, but I can see how it affects him, and I think the others can too. Though… I’m not so sure that he can.”
Silence filled the house for what felt like an eternity thereafter, as Bly lost himself in her words.
Was Xander really that desperate? He seemed so levelheaded most of the time, it was hard to believe. And yet, there were tiny moments where it felt like Xander became someone other than himself. Was that person the real Xander? Well, Bly could at least understand what it felt like to have to act like someone else; to feel obligated to wear a face that wasn’t your own. He couldn’t blame Xander for that, but Bold Arrow deserved to know if he had a death wish for himself.
“Your fingers…” Lisel gestured towards Bly’s right hand all of a sudden, causing Bly to shift his attention back on her, “I hadn’t noticed before. Are they—those are magic burns, aren’t they? I’ve seen something similar on adventurers back home.”
The daylight filtering through the blinds colored his pale hand, drawing attention to the extremities of shocked-white skin that bloomed like tiny bolts of lightning across his fingers, standing out against the pinkish-beige of the rest of his hand. The wounds had healed long ago, but the scars remained. He didn’t think about them, most of the time. But for some reason, Lisel drawing attention to them made him uneasy for a moment.
“Yeah.” He replied, not exactly eager to talk about it, and he instinctually drew his hand from the table, laying it flat across his lap, as he figured to add more cheerfully, “Just an accident when I was younger."
Though Lisel seemed to pick up on his reluctance straight away, because she changed the subject immediately, “Trelen? I know I don’t have the right you this, but can I ask you for a favor?”
“…Sure.” Bly gave a warry nod.
“Whatever happens tomorrow, or even over the next few days, can you promise me one thing?” She started, glancing at him with a deadly serious look in her eye, “I think there will come a moment when Xander has to choose between being our leader, and being his own hero. So, I’m asking you… please don’t let him make that choice.”
“Lisel…” Bly murmured worriedly.
Standing to her feet, Lisel adjusted her cloak for a moment. She smiled, despite her sullen words, as she said, “It’s funny, none of us really know if that item is truly in your dungeon or not. And yet, despite the odds, it inspired such an amazing journey, one that we all got to take together.”
It was at that moment that sunlight slipped in through the window at the back of the living room, casting the entire dining table in a spot of warmth and brightness.
As if drawn to the warmth, Lisel turned to glance towards the window with a pensive smile, her hair a burning orange color. Though it wasn’t a few seconds later that the light disappeared behind a cloud once more. And that smile faltered, as she said softly, “As far as I’m concerned, I hope we never find it.”