If Sarah and Cam had been confusing enough, meeting the rest of the gang was a terrifying experience for Etin.

Sarah had loudly called the group together, thrusting Etin into the spotlight with no care for his opinions. Inwardly, he was overwhelmed — it was just too many new things happening at once! And he still couldn’t quite understand their words. His rudimentary sendings weren’t nearly enough to make himself fully understood, and when the kids all talked at once it was hard for him to parse out their meaning.

His way of talking with his thoughts worked, to some extent, but it wasn’t nearly as powerful as his link to Father. Etin had listened to the Archmagus speak at length, and he’d been able to understand most of it, even if the context still eluded him. But the temporary links he could open at will weren’t nearly as powerful.

Even here, on the deck, he could still feel Father’s mind just as strongly as before. He hadn’t tried it yet, but he knew he could just reach through the link and talk to Father.

It wasn’t quite talking, though. It was both less and more — less, as words still held little meaning to poor Etin, no matter how many of them the five Revenants threw at him. But at the same time, the bumbling dialogue he’d had with Father had been fraught with meaning, and he’d understood the ideas he expressed without necessarily learning what the words themselves said.

In hindsight, he now regretted not paying attention to the spoken part of the communication. It might have assisted him in getting the five Heroes to just stop.

Etin could feel Winnie’s quiet amusement as Shiro and Cam fussed over him, and he’d already given Shiro a number of pointy elbows in the side — exquisitely pointy elbows, as only a skeleton could have — which did nothing to deter the spindly boy. If anything, he was taking them as a challenge to be even more annoying. Etin could only seethe to himself.

He watched the bear while Shiro continued to poke him in the ribs. He’d hoped to find a kindred spirit in the ursine undead, but surprisingly, Winnie was a simpler being than Etin himself.

If he listened closely, Etin could feel at Winnie’s surface thoughts. A tranquil sea, compared to the turmoil in Etin’s own mind. His gaze was placid as he watched the five kids dogpile Etin, and his feelings seemed dimmer.

Finally, Shiro seemed to have had enough of his prodding, and shooed the others away as he took a few steps back. Shiro brought his fists forward, bouncing from one leg to another as he punched the air towards Etin. On the side, Sarah and Alexis cheered, while David and Cam watched with interest.

Shiro was still mouthing off some words at him, and he’d gotten the gist of it — but even without the words the boy’s stance spoke for itself, and Etin had seen it many times when he’d had to break up brawls or stop some fight or another. Shiro wanted to fight him.

But why? Etin glanced at Winnie, hoping for an explanation, or at least a hint, but he paid the skeleton no attention, having closed his eyes instead as he basked in the warm rays of light.

Etin did not want to fight. He wasn’t quite sure what he wanted, yet, if he even wanted anything at all, but he was pretty sure fighting wasn’t among those things. He looked back fondly on those early days when he knew nothing but domestic chores; and he treasured the memories of all the people he saw as he guarded the people of Ravenrock day in and day out.

He’d come to blows a few times, sure, but it wasn’t something he liked. He lacked the capacity for pain, and had never experienced it before, but he’d seen its effects on people — Etin did not want to inflict it on anyone, if it could be helped.

Shiro was not so easily swayed from his path, however. He frowned, watching the skeleton with puzzlement in his eyes. More garbled sounds came from his mouth, sharp and loud. Etin could almost feel Shiro’s impatience. Almost.

No, Etin sent.

Shiro stopped bouncing, standing up straight. “What? Why?”

Etin made a mental note, mapping Shiro’s words to the concept of confusion.

Fight. Pain, Etin sent.

Shiro laughed. “It’s okay. Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you. It won’t hurt you, I promise.”

He meant to be reassuring, Etin realized, but Shiro had completely missed the point. Frustrated, he tried again. No. Hurt, you.

“Aww, he doesn’t want to hurt you. That’s so cute,” Sarah cooed.

Shiro was not okay. That much was evident, even to Etin. He knew emotions, and Shiro’s clenched jaw was proof enough of his anger. Anger and shame.

“Shiro? Are you okay?” Alexis asked with concern.

Etin didn’t have time to understand what he’d done wrong before Shiro charged him.

“What the hell?” Sarah yelled and moved to stop him.

David was quicker. He slipped behind Shiro before he could take more than three steps and encircled his arms under Shiro’s armpits before locking him into place.

“Hey, relax, man!” David said as he held Shiro tightly.

Cam ran forward, interposing himself between Shiro and Etin, while Sarah and Alexis helped restrain Shiro.

“The hell were you doing?” Sarah asked with a frown. “Is this some machismo shit?”

“I’m not… weak…” Shiro struggled to say. “Let me go. I’m good now.”

David gave the girls a questioning look. Sarah shrugged, but Alexis nodded and moved to stand next to Cam.

David released Shiro from his hold.

“I’m sorry,” Shiro said.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author's consent. Report any appearances on Amazon.

“What was that about? He said no. Why’d you go ballistic on him?” Alexis asked.

Shiro sighed. “It’s just— he was looking down on me, and I—”

“So, what? Even if he was, use your words,” Alexis said. “God, it’s like talking toddler.”

“I don’t think he was looking down on you,” Cam said as he turned to face Etin. “You just don’t want people to be in pain, right?”

Etin nodded. Cam understood him better, it seemed. Was that because he was a mage, Etin wondered?

“See?” Cam said. “Nothing to be angry about.”

“I know. I’m sorry. I just—”

Sarah sighed. “It’s okay,” she said as she patted him on the back. “It’s been a hard time for you. All of us, really.” She smiled, jabbing him lightly in the ribs. “At least you didn’t start a riot, y’know?”

Etin watched with great interest as the Heroes quickly defused the situation. He still wasn’t quite sure what had triggered it in the first place, other than it having to do with his choice of words. He really needed better words. Lost in his own thoughts, he didn’t notice Shiro until he was right in front of him.

Startled, Etin took a step back. Was he coming back to finish the fight? He really didn’t want to fight. What words could he use?

But Shiro had no intention of the sort. He brought his hands up, palms forward. “Hey, easy. I’m not going to hurt you.”

Etin wasn’t sure Shiro even could, but he left that thought unvoiced. He was, after all, a skeleton, and Father himself had just reinforced his bones.

“I just wanted to apologize. You’re basically just a baby and, yeah, I guess it was wrong of me to want to fight you.”

Etin stood quietly as he digested Shiro’s words. He disagreed with Shiro’s conclusion — he wasn’t a baby, he was pretty sure. He had many years’ worth of memories. Ten years, in fact. Moreover, babies were small.

Etin looked down at Shiro’s face.

I not baby. You, baby.

Shiro frowned and tilted his head. “Well. You’re definitely not the only one who thinks that.”

In the background, Alexis snickered.

~*~

Winnie’s latest discovery was that he could hold two different feelings about the same topic. Naturally, this discovery made him both upset and elated.

He was quite happy to have gained a new friend — though, he thought Etin wasn’t nearly as nice a name as Winnie. After all, he’d gotten his name from Sarah.

The same Sarah who was now the reason for his mixed feelings. Even now, she was fussing over Etin along with the others, teaching him words and showing him new things. They’d tried the same with Winnie, but it had quickly been obvious that the bear held little interest in learning new things. He was content to watch.

Winnie knew he wasn’t quite as smart as his skeleton pal. Maybe it was because he was a bear, while Etin was a human. Or not. It could have been many other reasons, too, and Winnie had no wish to sort through them.

No, Winnie was now painfully aware of what he wanted — he wanted attention, specifically from Sarah. The same Sarah who was now busy showing his new friend how to equip armor, and failing. Chain mail had been meant for bodies with more meat than Etin.

Etin’s good fortune came at Winnie’s expense, which left the humble bear quite dispirited. He snorted and turned away from the children and gazed upon the moonlit seas.

Sometime later, an icy hand touched the back of his head and began scratching along his neck. He lifted his head, meeting the smiling face of his Mother. He’d have smiled if he could, but smiling was not a thing bears could do. Instead, he leaned into her hand, and together they watched the waves break upon their ship.

Winnie felt alive — and life was good.

~*~

The party had been broken some time ago, once it became clear Etin had absorbed all the knowledge he could digest for the moment. David winced in sympathy — he was pretty sure Etin would remain bedazzled for a while. Being just barely born and then immediately left in the hands of this group’s brand of stupid seemed reckless at best, and David wondered if Julian knew what he was doing.

Well, he had created life from basically nothing, so he had that going for him. On the flip side, David’s mother had basically done the same thing with him, and she was proof enough that giving birth to a child did not equal parenting skills.

He decided he’d bring his concerns to Alexis — she’d mentioned having cared for a few younger siblings, so maybe she knew what to do.

But there were other, more urgent things to worry about. Shiro’s reaction, for once. He wasn’t entirely sure about it, but his gut told him Shiro had been more affected by their bout at the Adventurers’ Guild than he’d let on.

A small part of David smiled gleefully at the idea. Well, well, well, how the turntables, it seemed to say, and he couldn’t help but chortle at the thought. He’d spent so much time being terrified of the younger Hero, and now David had managed to put him in his place—

But what place was that? They were a team, now, and the more reasonable part of David’s brain realized that he couldn’t just heal his trauma by pushing it on someone else. He knew Shiro’s story — how fucked up was it that even the System had given him that Struggle skill? Power from pain? Whoever had designed the System was not right in the head.

Pushing back his reservations, David left in search of Shiro. He needed to tell him something, to help somehow — he didn’t know exactly what, but he’d figure it out.

It didn’t take long to find the youngest Revenant. He was moping at the prow, the façade being okay gone now that he thought himself alone.

David walked up behind him and cleared his throat, causing Shiro to jump to his feet.

“Oh, it’s you. What’s up?” To his credit, Shiro had composed himself in an instant.

“Nothing much, just thought you might be up for a chat.”

Shiro’s lips quirked. “What, did Alexis get tired of you following her around like a puppy?”

David grimaced, but inwardly he was happy for the question. He could probe about a bit, first. “Yeah, she and Sarah are doing girl talk, and they didn’t want me about.”

Shiro raised an eyebrow. “Girl talk.”

“You know, the usual. Hair braiding, fashion, killing enemies from ten paces with nothing but a rusty fork.”

Shiro puffed out a laugh. “Right. So, what did you want to talk about?” He crossed his arms. “And I’m not stupid. I know it’s about earlier.”

David nodded. No point maintaining the charade. “I was hoping I’d come up with some crazy veiled wisdom by this point, you know, the kind that makes everything better. But I didn’t, so I’ll just be honest. There’s nobody here who thinks you’re weak.”

Shiro snorted derisively. “You don’t need to lie to make me feel better. We both know how badly I lose.”

David rolled his eyes. “I played to my strengths and denied you yours. Any other time, you’d have twisted me into spaghetti. Don’t be daft.”

“Let’s pretend I believe you,” he said, though David could tell Shiro did believe him, at least a bit. “What’s that got to do with anything?”

“Well, I’m not a therapist, so I don’t really know. But I’m not looking down on you. Etin wasn’t, either. No one is. You probably got dealt the worst hand of all of us — like, seriously, torture?” Shiro closed his eyes and David realized he’d misstepped. “Anyway, what I mean is, just talk to me. Or us. Or anyone. You know.”

“I’m alright. I just overreacted. It won’t happen again.”

“Uh-huh. And my name is Marilyn Monroe.”

“What do you want?” Shiro snapped.

“I don’t know. To help you out, I guess. It’s partially my fault, you know.”

Shiro’s eyebrows rose again. “That you beat me up?”

David shrugged. “That I wanted to do it in the first place. I was scared of you, you know. You were the big, bad, scary guy who killed me. And then you looked down on me, so, you know I took it out on you.”

“You were afraid of me?” Shiro asked, surprise in his voice.

“No duh. Did you forget the part where you backhanded me to death? Like, as far as dying is, that’s a pretty brutal way to go. Like, I remember feeling my neck snap. That kind of thing sticks with you.”

Shiro shuffled his feet. “Sorry,” he said quietly.

“Wait, are you embarrassed?” David laughed. “Don’t be. Anyway, the point was — you’re a big bad scary guy. You got nothing to be insecure about. I know going all ‘it’s all in your head’ isn’t usually exactly helpful, but I don’t know how else to help. So, uh, sorry, I guess.”

Shiro smiled. “Thanks — and no, it helps a bit. I think.”

David breathed a sigh of relief. “Well, good. Then that’s done. Now, please don’t mention I said all this to anyone, ever. My air of mystique badassery depends on it.”

Shiro broke into laugh. “Sure thing. You can count on me.”