Chapter 45: Rising Tides

Allan cursed under his breath. Leo’s health had dropped to 44%.

The [Fragmentholder]'s stat screen was pulled up alongside the party map, and the longer Allan looked at the blinking dot representing the former [Thief], the more and more uneasy he became.

He shook his head and kept moving forward, roughly pushing through the trees as he made his way back to the shore. His bloodied axe dragged behind him.

Subconsciously, he knew he should probably move slower considering he’d just finished healing his injuries, but he ignored his better judgement. He needed to hurry—he had to get to Leo before it was too late.

With another sharp shove of a branch, the trees cleared and Allan finally saw the jagged line of the shore.

Their boat was nowhere to be found.

Allan rushed forward, dark eyes scanning the rocks. He couldn’t see Douglas and Dalton’s boat either. He soon realized what the problem was.

The waterline had risen. The lake now swallowed more of the island’s shore, and it had taken their boats with its heightened waves.

Allan frowned down at the crystal clear waters, recalling what Irving had said about the lake. Had they spent too long on its surface? Would another wave rise like the one that had destroyed that village?

Unease mixed with growing impatience. Without a boat, how the hell was he supposed to get off the island?

“Hey.”

Allan jerked around, dark eyes meeting familiar grey. Spade’s expression was calm, movements casual.

His gaze flickered over to the bloody arm hanging limply at her side. Even from here, he could tell the wound was deep. The [Executioner], however, walked as if it wasn’t there, ignoring its existence and simply nodding at him.

“I see you managed to deal with the other one.”

Allan snorted at that. “And you killed Douglas.” His voice was blunt. The scarlet dripping off her sword was confirmation enough.

Spade shrugged. Her gaze sharpened as she studied the shore, taking their surroundings in without missing a beat.

“The water rose?”

Allan nodded. “The boats must’ve been washed away. I can’t find them anywhere.”

Spade hummed in acknowledgement and stepped over to a flat stone sitting a few feet away from the new shoreline. She sat down, not seeming remotely concerned or hurried. Allan frowned.

“What’re you doing?”

“If our boat’s gone, we’ll just have to wait for another group of Hounds to come here.” She nodded at the [Healer], leaning back to settle into a more comfortable position atop the rock. “Until then, may as well relax.”

Allan’s fingers tightened around the axe handle. Leo’s health bar remained in the corner of his vision, but he couldn’t argue with Spade’s logic. As long as they were stranded here, there was nothing to be done, infuriating as it was.

Spade seemed to notice the tension coursing through the man, because she raised a scarred eyebrow.

“Worried?”

The [Healer]’s jaw clenched, which was answer enough.

“He’ll probably be fine.” If someone else had said it the words might have been comforting, but Spade’s tone didn’t change at all, maintaining that slightly detached, unreadable distance that had initially set Allan off. “He can take care of himself.”

“I know.” Allan’s fingers squeezed into a fist. Leo was plenty capable, he was well aware of that. But it was precisely because he knew Leo so well that he was worried.

Because for all that Leo was smart, he had a reckless, impulsive side too.

Sometimes the former [Thief]’s emotions flared up and he threw all caution to the wind.

Sometimes he’d randomly freeze in the middle of something or start panicking when something triggered a bad memory. It was rare, but he could never be sure with Leo. The man had never known his own limits.

A low chuckle brought Allan out of his thoughts, and he realized he must’ve spoken out loud. Dark eyes narrowed at the [Executioner].

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“What?”

Spade waited until her chuckles had faded to answer. “I just found it funny,” she said. She cocked her head, grey eyes still glimmering with faint amusement. “Earlier Leo said something similar.”

That made Allan pause. His brows furrowed.

“What do you mean?”

The [Executioner] shrugged, leaning back on her uninjured arm. “He mentioned that you’re not always the most ‘stable,’” she quoted casually.

“Unstable.” Had Leo really said that about him? Spade’s voice wasn’t malicious, and he doubted the [Executioner] would bother lying about something like this. He didn’t think she cared enough to.

The far more likely possibility, then, was that this was the truth.

Allan frowned, silently combing through his memories and trying to find what could’ve led Leo to that conclusion. He’d been careful, he thought.

When he looked up again, Spade was studying him with those eerily blank eyes.

“That bothers you.” It was a statement, not a question. “Is it because you’re trying to fix your personality? Turn over a new leaf?”

Allan didn’t bother suppressing the snort that rose in response.

“I’m not trying to fix shit.” He stepped over and took a seat on a boulder beside the one Spade was occupying. The fog remained thick, no signs of movement within. Not yet, at least.

The [Executioner] smiled. “I assumed your class choice was some sort of atonement.”

“Well you assumed wrong.” Allan picked at some of the blood drying on the axe blade. The handle was a bit loose, and he suspected another good swing would be enough to send the blade flying off. He’d need to get a new one soon.

Selecting [Healer] had simply been the most logical choice. It filled in some necessary gaps in their group, especially knowing how dangerous hunting fragments would likely be. He’d been surprised it was even an option for him given his past, but he’d given up trying to understand the System ages ago.

“Seems like a bit of a wasted opportunity,” Spade remarked. “[Healer]’s a rare class.”

Allan glanced at her and raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t take you for a System-fate believer.”

The [Executioner] laughed. “Hardly. I simply believe in taking advantage of the opportunities you’re given.”

“That, we agree on,” Allan muttered. A particularly large chunk of dried blood flaked off his axe. He stared at the dark red specks absently, rolling them between his fingers. His eyes flicked over to Spade’s wound again, still bleeding steadily. He frowned.

“Here.” He rose and grabbed the arm, squinting at the gash. Spade made no comment or move to stop him.

He was almost surprised at how deep the wound was. The [Executioner] had high defense. Had Douglas been that strong, or did he have a skill that lowered his opponent’s defense?

This would probably take a while to stitch together, Allan thought, but he supposed they had time while they waited for more Hounds to show up.

“For someone so protective, you hide a lot from your friend.”

Allan pulled a cloth out from his bag and dabbed at the wound, attempting to clean it. He then worked on peeling away the shredded, bloodied pieces of sleeve that had stuck to her skin.

“I’m not gonna worry Leo for nothing,” he muttered. He tossed the cloth aside and activated [Mend], a familiar ultramarine glow lighting through the mist.

“He won’t admit it, but he’s a good person deep down.” Not like them, was the unspoken addition. And it was a sentiment Allan stood by. Very few people—especially in the slums—would’ve walked into that alleyway and helped him five years ago.

Though, to be fair, Leo had never said he was from the slums, and Allan was increasingly certain that he hadn’t been born there. The man had much of the same paranoia that slum folks did, but there was a different tinge to it. A different sort of fear that was both familiar and not.

Regardless of where he’d come from before stepping foot in Sindrey, that didn’t change the fact that, in Allan’s eyes, he was a rare sort. It had taken him months to accept that the then [Thief] hadn’t had ulterior motives for helping him, and with that realization had come a growing respect and, perhaps, admiration.

That was why Allan didn’t mind quietly taking care of things when Leo pissed someone off or put a target on his back. He could turn up the charm, talk his way out of most things. The exceptions could be solved with a few threats—sometimes more if necessary. That was what he was good at.

[You have gained experience! Experience shared with [2] other party members]

[Progress towards next level: 94%]

Allan leaned back, the glow fading from his hands. The gash wasn’t fully healed, the skin around the area still quite tender, but it was no longer bleeding everywhere.

Spade took her torn sleeve and roughly wrapped it around the area in a makeshift bandage while Allan scanned for other places he could use [Mend].

One of the first things he’d done after gaining the spell was find its experience limitations. He’d quickly learned that minor wounds granted little to no experience. Deliberately injuring himself to heal and gain more experience hadn’t worked either.

Allan sighed when he couldn’t find another place to use the spell. Leo’s dot hadn’t moved on the party map, and he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

The [Healer] watched Spade warily as she tested the bandages, rolling her shoulder a few times. He still couldn’t read her expressions, still didn’t quite know what to make of her.

“What about you?” he finally asked. The [Executioner] raised a scarred eyebrow. Allan nodded at her.

“Was [Executioner] your first pick?”

Spade laughed. “Of course not.”

“Why’d you choose it then?”

She wiped a cloth down the bloodied blade of her sword, then sheathed it in a single smooth motion. “It’s what I’m good at.”

Allan paused, dark eyes darting over to her. Before he had a chance to respond, however, a flash of movement caught his eye.

Through the mist, a shadow grew and steadily approached the island. The outline of a boat formed, and soon two blurry silhouettes were visible within.

Allan exchanged looks with Spade. Without another word, the two ducked into the forest as the boat drew closer. Spade silently pulled out her sword again.

“You put that away too soon,” Allan remarked.

“Looks like I did.”

They fell into silence as they waited for the boat to reach the shore. Leo’s dot continued to flash on the party map.

Allan’s fingers tightened around his axe. He only hoped Leo would be able to hold on until they got there.