The air in the longhouse was still and quiet, the only noises audible being that of the crackling flames. The longhouse was filled with the trusted men and women of Yorktown, including the mercenaries who had helped save it months back. Archibald was watching from the entrance of the longhouse, his eyebrow raised as he watched everyone. Bjorn was currently nursing a headache, a result that had many possible origins. Lowe was quietly observing from his seat at the nearby table, the Aldren representative seeming confused. Helen, Seamus, and a very sleep-deprived Haggard, all sat nearby Lowe. Silas sat across from them, along with a couple of his closest orcs. Kate was standing guard near the council’s table, which was located at the end of the room.
James sat at the head of the council’s table, along with Felix and the new council members, which consisted of a couple of the town’s elders and a familiar veteran. Harald seemed to shift his gaze to James, who did his best to keep a straight poker face. James wasn’t in the mood to pour his heart out to everyone here. Nor was he there to tell everyone to sod off.
‘How do you tell your friends and allies that you are going to die?’ James thought absentmindedly. His hand instinctively moved to his chest, where his old wound used to lie.
‘It rarely ever happens, if at all. Let’s just be thankful that it wasn’t as sudden as many of the fates people of this world meet.’
Faust’s words seem to give James some comfort, even if slightly. He recalled the memory he had experienced the other day. James could still remember how Dasius seemed to smile at death, his confidence unchanging.
‘Faust,’ James started.
‘Don’t. That memory is one I’d rather not talk about. At least, not as yet.’ Faust’s voice had a sense of anger mixed with cold reproach. The young man nodded slightly to himself, deciding to put that matter to the side.
James looked to his right, where Dahlia stood. She was there to help explain his situation if the need arose. She gave him a slight nod, as if to push him to speak. James swallowed his nerve, his jaw clenching as he straightened his posture.
“I suppose you are all wondering why you were called into this meeting,” he spoke. Murmurs sound out throughout the longhouse, with a couple of mundane guesses that had to do with the upcoming Bloom festival.
“Is it about those men who came into town a couple of days back?” Nora’s voice suddenly called out. James turned to his left on the council, where the councilwoman sat. Nora narrowed her gaze at James. She had been the same council member who had suggested the exile of the young man months back. Now, however, she was a quiet member of the newly reformed council, rarely ever losing her temper at those who questioned her. James supposed it had something to do with the second battle for Yorktown, back when the townsfolk voted to have James’ exile revoked.
“I thought it was about the wound that knocked the young man out for two whole days?” another council member sounded out, this one being an elder who had been in Yorktown for years.
“Wait—”
“Wound? There was a fight?” another spoke, interrupting James’ response.
“What kind of injury?”
“Wait, was it those bastards who did this to you?”
“Where are those serpent bastards now? This calls for a fight!”
“Are you stupid?!”
Before long, the entire room was filled with arguing and bickering, most of it being about the emissary who had come to town and how they had tried to assassinate James. The young man himself was doing his best to dispel the ruckus, but his attempts were ignored.
‘Can these guys calm down for just a second?!’ James angrily thought.
The conversation had completely gone out of hand and now devolved into a flurry of questions and shouts. It was an amalgamation of chaos, to the point where Harald himself had to jump in to try to stop the shouting. James could feel his anger simmer to a boiling point.
‘For the love of the gods, shut them up!’ Faust’s voice shouted out from the mindscape.
Hands clenched, James let it all out in frustration.
“Will everyone just shut the fuck up?!”
James’ anger echoed throughout the room, the shout even shutting Bjorn up. Everyone stared at James, who was now standing from his seat. The flames in the longhouse flickered violently, almost as if a breeze was threatening to snuff them out. Everyone was silent, their gazes fixed on the young clan leader.
Seamus was the first to speak up, his soft voice breaking the silence. “James. Your eyes.”
The blond man blinked, realizing that his headache had come back, along with an intense heat that made him feel as if his brain was about to melt. He raised a hand to his face, seeing the blue glow that was enacting from his eyes. James closed his eyes, taking a deep sigh as he focused. Slowly, his anger dissipated bit by bit. Soon enough, the heat from his eyes died down, leaving him feeling drained. He let out a breath of relief before he opened his eyes to the longhouse occupants. They were all staring at him, quiet as they sat in their respective spots. Most of them had seen the young man at this stage of anger, back during the incidents that had transpired months ago. Still, despite this not being the first time they had seen it, they all still emanated the aura of genuine fear. James frowned as he surveyed the room.
Haggard was eyeing James with a look of surprise and uncertainty, his hand ever so hovering over his belt. Helen had the same expression on her, only without visibly reaching for a weapon. Seamus looked meek, a tinge of genuine worry in his eyes as he watched James. Lowe, Kate, Archibald, and most of the council members visibly shuffled a couple of inches away from the young clan leader. Harald himself looked unaffected at first, but his eyes showed a glint of concern whilst also appearing cautious. Silas and Bjorn were grinning, a look of interest in their gazes. James stole a glance at Dahlia, whose expression was the same as before. She was the only one who wasn’t affected by James’ outburst.
‘Guess that goes to show how much hell she has gone through with me. Both her and Seamus.’
James silently thanked his two closest friends, as they had been there with him since the beginning.
‘Best not to look weak in front of them.’
James straightened up, his gaze returning to the room in front of him.
“House Olafson, the Serpent Clan, is not our enemy. They were here to offer us an alliance that required Yorktown to merge with them and give them full control.”
Murmurs sounded out through the longhouse, most of them negative towards the supposed deal.
“Of course, I had rejected it. They have taken it well and have decided to stay neutral with us. Now, as for the wound,” James raised a hand to quiet down the rising voices. “It is a result of a fight I had months ago. Back when Deimos had raided the island. I was impaled through my chest by my sword and left to die. Of course, as everyone here knows now, Dahlia had revived me that night. She implanted a spirit inside me.” James brought his hand to his chest.
“The act saved me, healing my wound. Now, however, as a result of my fight with Gryff, the bond between my body and the spirit is weakening. At first, the bond was supposed to last me for years, more than enough time for Dahlia to find a way to heal my original wound. Now…”
James looked down at his chest, his mind going back to his initial ‘death’ and revival. It felt wrong that this was happening to him. He had gotten his second chance, didn’t he? What was so fair about this? Now he was going to lose everything he had built up, all of his friends, his accomplishments.
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‘No. It was meant to end like this.’
James recalled the words Dahlia had said to him back on their first visit to Vindis.
> “Luck doesn’t run forever. You might think at first that you’re unstoppable because you avoid death and gain friends, but eventually, fate will catch up to you. No matter who you are. At some point, fate will balance the scales, and the ones who rely on luck will be hit the hardest,”
James gritted his teeth in anger, clenching his jaw so tightly that sharp stabs of pain shot throughout his head.
‘I guess fate has balanced the scales… and I was caught in its gaze.’
He looked up at the room before him, catching everyone’s gaze once more. It would be best to get it over with as soon as possible.
“My bond has been shortened to months. By Frost, I will be dead.”
His words struck everyone with a noticeable air. The room felt colder, the flames lighting the longhouse now weaker.
The first to speak was Archibald, the elf’s eyes full of disbelief. “Is this some sort of joke?” he asked.
James shook his head. “The bond between me and the spirit is weakening. It was the reason why I was out of commission these last couple of days. My old wound, it’s reopening. Not fully, but as time goes by, the spirit’s bond grows weaker. Eventually, it will come back in full force, and I cannot do anything to prevent it.”
“Are you serious?” Haggard called out, the drifter stepping up.
“Can we fix it? Extend its bond?” Felix spoke up.
“No, we cannot,” James answered. “At least, not with our current resources,” he added.
“We will have to connect James directly to the ley lines of Azura,” Dahlia broke her silence. “The only way of doing so is to either dig down hundreds of miles into the ground or to have a very highly skilled spellcaster do it,” she continued. “Even so, connecting someone to the raw power of a ley line… It’ll be like hitting James with the force of a thousand lightning bolts. It’ll kill him before it restores the bond between him and Faust.”
Dahlia looked at her feet. “There is nothing we can do.” Her words seem to instill a sense of cold silence within the room. James frowned, his hands slightly shaking.
‘This isn’t the end,’ Faust muttered. ‘You can still make the most of your life… You’re not going to just sit on your ass and let your death come, right? James, you still have time to make your mark, to make sure your second chance wasn’t for nothing.’
James blinked in response to the spirit’s words. Faust was right. Who was to say that fate restricted James’ influence? He was dying, sure, but he wasn’t out of the picture yet. He could still keep pushing and fighting.
‘What’s the point of a second chance if I don’t use it to its fullest?’ James could feel his spirit become reinvigorated, his gloomy outlook on life soon dissipating.
“It doesn’t mean the end. At least, not this island’s end,” James suddenly spoke out. “As of now, I’m going to double down on the clan’s growth. On this settlement’s long-term survival.” James slammed his hands onto the council table. He could hear his heart beat in his ears, his initial doubts fading away. “Right now, we’re a joke to the other clans. But I’m going to change that.”
James could see how everyone was reacting to his newfound vigor, their eyes now all over him. “I’ll build our influence in southern Valenfrost. Yorktown, no, the White Raven clan is going to grow beyond anyone’s belief. I promise, by the time I leave this world, not even Delphine herself will see what’s coming.”
The room was silent, with Dahlia watching James with a surprised look. Even Seamus looked wide eyed.
Felix was the first to speak up. “James, do you really believe you can accomplish so much in less than a year?” His question didn’t carry an ounce of disapproval, but it did sound as if the guardsman had some doubts.
James nodded towards Felix, a smile forming on the edge of his lips. “You have my word. I’ll leave my mark on this world, dead or alive. Besides, I have the rest of my life to figure it out.” The awkward joke made Felix visibly uncomfortable, but the guardsmen himself managed a small nod. “If we all come together, if we all work hard enough, we can turn Yorktown into something great. Something that even the marauders won’t dare come near.”
Murmurs had begun to arise amongst the longhouse. Before James could speak again, Dahlia butted in. “If we expand ourselves, we could even find a way to fix James’ condition. I myself only know so much about necromancy and the undead… There’s a good chance someone out there knows a way to extend the bond between James and the spirit.” Her words caused even more commotion.
“In short, you’re saying we need to progress faster. To become bigger. To be a clan worthy of recognition,” Haggard stepped up, his grin visible. James nodded to the former drifter, who had recently vouched to become an unofficial sword to James. Back then, James was a bit confused on why he wanted to stay, let alone become a part of the newly born clan. Now James could see the look of excitement in the drifter’s eyes.
“Even if we do become bigger, the threats are most likely going to increase,” Harald said. The veteran gave James a look, one that clearly said ‘Are you going to be able to handle this?’.
“Then we’ll have to get stronger, right?” James rebutted with a confident grin. “We’ve handled a lot worse than rival clans or bandits.”
“James is right. We’ve handled much more dangerous foes in the past. We’ve pushed through those obstacles. Surely expanding won’t be just as hard,” Seamus called out.
“Dahlia also has a point,” Helen commented. “Valenfrost is a big place. Good chance that we’ll find someone with enough knowledge in the undead who can fix James’ dilemma.”
Bjorn’s voice sounded out right after. “They’re both right. As grim as the initial news may be, James and that raven clan will die if we spend valuable time sitting on our arses.”
Archibald turned to the dwarf, the elf’s eyebrows furrowing. “Are you really going to help out? It isn’t really your place to stay.”
“Of course it is!” Bjorn shot back. “It’s been my place since that bastard Gryff put a shard of ice in my socket!” Bjorn gestured towards his eyepatch. “I’ve already bled for this town. It’ll be a waste of an eye if it all goes down in the gutter.”
Archibald raised an eyebrow. “Seriously, that’s your reason?”
“That and if James dies, my only source of income is gone.”
“Income? Wait, you’re getting paid?!”
Bjorn was, in fact, getting paid. The dwarf was hired to help patrol around Yorktown’s waters, taking care of bandits for a monthly fee of a couple of gold. James himself had barely managed to barter to that low price, in exchange for Bjorn to have a sizable discount at the tavern. The young clan leader barely had a source of income himself, if it could be called that. James’ wealth came solely from the loot he had ‘confiscated’ from bandit ships. Still, the coin varied wildly and James was always on the edge of poverty.
His expenses included, and were not limited to: Dimitris crew, food for Silas and his orcs, construction of New Aldren, Haggard’s fee, and finally Bjorn’s fee. It had all equated to a sizable sum of—
“You’re saying I risked my life, only to be left with little to no money and a disfigured nose?!” Archibald, on the other hand, was not getting paid. That was simply because the elf had not contributed much during the last few months of Yorktown’s development. His payment for helping fight against Gryff? A full four-month stay at the infirmary, with daily hot meals and free care. It was a bit shameless to count that as his payment, but James was running short on coin and he was ready to cut down on costs.
“You still got that gold from the initial job months ago, quit complaining.” Bjorn blew off Archibald’s complaints, which only seemed to infuriate the elf some more. James watched the two mercenaries bicker about pay.
‘Well, guess that means another sword to hire.’
The clan leader knew that the elf would eventually come to him for work, same as Bjorn the moment the dwarf was fully healed.
‘Another problem for later,’ Faust said.
“So, does this mean you will all assist me?” James called out. He watched as the council members pondered.
Nora spoke first. “The people of Yorktown do favor you. New Aldren follows you. It would be foolish of me to try to see otherwise. You have my support.”
Otis was next. “I have been a resident on this island for decades. I was born here, and I’m sure I’ll eventually die here. Still, in all my years, I’ve never seen such a change to Yorktown in the matter of mere months. I am hesitant about the future, but I have seen the way the younger folk look up to you and your allies. You have my support, even if I’m cautious of you.” The other council members mumble their responses, all of them agreeing with varying levels of excitement and hesitance.
Finally, Felix was next. He sighed. “I can’t stop you, so I won’t try.” The guardsmen locked eyes with James. “I have faith in you. Only because of everything that has happened in these last months. Still, do not take my trust lightly, Holter. The minute I see you endangering this town once again, be sure that I won’t stand idly.” As vague as the guardsman’s words were, his nod told James that he had the guardsmen’s support.
“So, since we’re all on the same page.” Harald turned to James, his arms crossed. “What will you do, James? What is the first order of business?” Everyone’s eyes turned to James, their focus burning a hole in the young man. James simply grinned, his hand moving to rub at his bearded chin.
“Well, let’s first focus on the coming weeks,” he said. James eyed the decorative flowers that were hung around the longhouse, which signified the end of Frost and the start of a new season.
“The Bloom Solstice Festival. How are preparations going along?”