Chapter 41 — Those Who Survive and Carry On (Part IV)

Toren smiled at the breathless greeting and nodded. “I hear you took care of me. Thanks.”

Warnel’s eldest daughter looked like she had a thousand different things to ask but finally settled on, “I saw you take a blade through the heart! How are you even still alive?”

He shrugged. “[Berserkers] get Abilities and Skills to temporarily ignore injuries. Healing dangerous injuries before the time runs out is the tricky part.”

“It. Was. Your. Heart,” Laiya deadpanned.

“Yep. Close one, this time. Almost returned to the Great Dreaming. But I’m fine now, so it's all good. How’s your training going?”

The girl sputtered but, at the mention of training, remembered how sweaty she was and seemed to freeze in place.

An amused Emina came to her daughter’s rescue, “Laiya, why don’t you and Falma wash up, and join us for lunch? Have Falma call your father and tell Kota he’s welcome, too.”

Freed from her temporary paralysis, Laiya grabbed a cloth and empty bucket and fled.

“She should know better than to ask about someone’s Abilities,” Emina offered in apology.

Toren waved the consideration away. “No worry. It’s better for our survival to know what we each can and can’t do, and I am supposed to be teaching her.”

“Unless my eyes deceive me, you’re only a year or two older than Laiya. I can only imagine what you’ve been through to be so mature at your young age.”

“In my 20th cycle, yeah.” His story wasn’t that different from countless others who had tragedy strike during childhood. He still filled his mouth with stew to avoid answering further. What was there to say?

“That man who attacked us…” Emina grimaced, and reworded her unfinished question, “Is it because of those men you killed when rescuing us?”

Toren nodded. “Most likely. The [Assassin] guy mentioned the leader of the group we killed by name. I thought we’d have more time and hadn’t really expected them to follow us out into the jungle. Whether we were unlucky or lucky, hard to say. Speaking of which, what did you do with the body and possessions?”

“Harthol took the body to turn in to the authorities. There might be a bounty to be claimed or others involved.”

This time, it was Toren’s turn to grimace. “That might be risky for his family. Did anything get kept?”

“Laiya stripped him of what looked valuable or useful. So, you’ll want to ask her about that.”

That seemed promising. Laiya had watched him loot the [Nightblade], so chances were fair that she at least grabbed the coins and weapons. Maybe a Conclave token, too. “There might be some divination-tracking risk, but I’d hope we got something out of having our lives put in danger.”

“One could hope…” Emina stopped what she was going to say as Kota entered the small farmhouse, getting up to start serving the food instead.

The teen boy joined Toren at the table, but directed his comments Emina’s way. “Falma and Laiya are washing up. Warnel says he’ll be in soon.”

“Thanks, Kota. It’s nice having you help out.” Emina gave a friendly smile as she placed the bowl of steaming stew before the teen.

Kota’s clothes reeked of sweat, but his wet hair and dirt-free skin suggested he had stripped and dumped a bucket of water over himself before coming in for lunch. Probably a habit from his frontier farmhouse upbringing. The boy didn’t wait to eat, just blowing on each spoonful to cool it enough before shoveling the food into his mouth.

“Kota, how’s the situation with the zoots?” Toren asked. “Last I heard before the [Assassin] showed up, you and Harthol took the hounds on a sweep around the property.”

The boy froze mid-spoonful. “Ah, yeah, sorry we left you alone. Was he really an [Assassin]?”

“Yeah, sure of it.” Toren didn’t mention the kill notice. No sense having the boy spread around that he had a Sponsored Profession.

“Wow… that’s heavy. I know Ma is always saying that people out here have pasts, but first time I’ve seen a real [Assassin].” The teen’s eyes were wide as he glanced from Emina to Toren, like he was in the presence of walking legends. “Ah! You asked about what we found. The hounds followed the zoots’ tracks and scent to a gulch with a small stream at the bottom, so the nest might be on the other side. The road has a bridge to cross, but Harthol and I didn’t want to go too far away from your farmstead.”

“That’s fine, Kota. I’m grateful that you and your brother have helped out as much as you have. My [Stealth] should be good enough to let me explore the area after we return from selling the harvest. Speaking of which, can you arrange a raptor and wagon delivered for us on your way back?”

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“Sure. I don’t mind. It’s exciting being relied on, and my hounds have gotten a lot of XP. Normally, Harthol gets all the fun.” Kota downed another spoonful, and added, “I’m good for staying another day or two if you want, you know?”

Toren nodded. “I appreciate it. Let’s see how the harvest goes. If I’m still a little weak from my injuries, taking an extra day might be best.”

A teasing chuckle from Falma announced the girls’ return before the door opened again. Still embarrassed, Laiya wouldn’t meet anyone’s gaze as her younger sister guided the pair to the seats opposite Toren and Kota. Clean clothes must have been prepared ahead of time as both girls had changed out of their sweaty armor into breezy summer dresses.

Kota gave the pair an appreciative smile. “You both look beautiful! Harthol is gonna be so jealous when I tell him! Miss Hatterwick, can I have more?”

Falma stuck her tongue out at the teen boy, in response. “So beautiful that you’ve only got eyes for more food, huh?”

Emina took the offered bowl and filled it with more stew. “How about you, Toren?”

Toren glanced down at his own mostly empty bowl. A warmth had been spreading through his body thanks to the mana-rich ingredients. Nobles in Greenvale hardly ate this well. “I don’t want to overdo it, but one more bowl should be fine. Thanks. You’re a good cook, Emina.”

“There’s some synergy with [Dye-making]—and I expect, [Alchemy]. So, the flavor and effects should improve further after the next trip into town.”

“Another thing to look forward to.”

“Ah, Toren, you’ve returned to us,” Warnel greeted, wiping sweat from his brow with a tailored sleeve as he entered and took the last empty seat, receiving his bowl of zoot stew. “I was beginning to worry you weren’t going to wake up.”

“Might be the cost of the Ability I used to survive the [Assassin],” Toren admitted. “My first time taking a fatal injury, so not sure. Not that I want to test it again. Of course, out-of-commission for a few days is better than dead.”

“No doubt,” the [Haberdasher] agreed.

The rest of the mid-day meal passed comfortably as they made plans to do the harvest. Maybe the situation with the Hatterwicks would work out better than expected.

~~~

Name: Toren of Theravos

Race: Human

Age: 20

Profession 1: Level 5 Burningblood Berserker (700/10000)

Mana: 72/72

Strength: 16

Constitution: 13

Dexterity: 14

Agility: 12

Wisdom: 12

Intellect: 8

Will Power: 18

Perception 15

Appearance: 8

Charisma: 8

Luck: 10

Attribute Upgrade Points: 4

Traits:

Sacrificial Guardian

Abilities:

Burning Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Mid

Control Blood (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

Flurry of Blows (Rank 1) Proficiency: Low

Ability Upgrade Points: 4

Profession Skills:

Pain Tolerance 5

Severe Wound Recovery 5

Berserker Knife Arts 1

Spear 9

Club 8

Focus Rage 3

Combat Awareness 3

Intimidate 2

Skills:

Theravos Language (Speaking) 15

Theravos Language (Reading/Writing) 10

Religion 10

Meditation 5

Bone Strengthening 3

Hunting 20

Butchering 13

Archery 19

Stealth 18

Arithmetic 4

Foraging 16

Tree Felling 6

Running 12

Mana Sensing 14

Danger Sensing 1

Wound Binding 8