Chapter
“The Market made me a bit jumpy,” He mumbled to himself as he closed the door and joined Helsket at the small table in the combination living room/kitchen as the big man pulled out a block of cheese, some bread and apples.
“The bread is a bit stale, but it still eats,” Helsket said as he broke half of the loaf off and handed it to Mikel along with a thick slab of cheese. "It doesn’t compare to Telgil’s food but it’ll be better than what we’ll have on the road. It’s going to be hardtack and water until we get to Stennin. With just the two of us, we’ll have to pack smart to have enough food and water to make it. I know of a watering hole on the way, but this time of year it can dry up. We might need to make it in one shot. Foodwise - we're going to get a bit hungry, so eat up now. You need the fat on your body to make energy on the way - it's the best form of food you'll get on the road.”
“We’ll head out at daylight tomorrow?” Mikel asked before taking a bite of cheese and bread after he'd stacked the two up. He would take Helsket's lesson to heart about eating before long marches - but he wished it was with a slightly more palatable food than the more than "a bit stale" stale bread. The taste was fine, but it chewed like leather.
“That’s the plan. You get rested up this evening and I’ll go into town to get supplies. Make sure your gear is all cinched up tight so it doesn’t bang around as you walk. Telgil more or less just tossed the armor on your pack. See if you can make it a bit easier to handle. If nothing else the even weight distribution will make the walk more bearable - after three days on the road, you're going to thank yourself for doing whatever you could to bring the suffering down. Marches aren't fun - this one particularly. Just count yourself lucky you don't use plate armor. There were a few times where I wore an entire suit for months on end, just so I didn't have to carry it on my back. Your dad liked to call me Tin Can.”
Helsket scratched at the bald spot again before tearing into his portion of food.
Mikel sighed and shook his head, not looking forward to the trudge to Stennin. He knew they had to move - the six months the physicians had given his father were quickly running out and in that time he had to recruit at least two more people and prep for an invasion of the most dangerous place on the face of the planet.
He felt the enormity of the situation close in on him but pushed back as he had done dozens of times before to avoid being overwhelmed.
He swallowed hard and looked at Helsket.
“Thank you, for all of this. I wouldn’t have gotten this far without your help. I just hope I can do something good in the coming days and not just be a burden that I feel I am. All I've done is get tossed around.” He pointed to the concealed Callisto Jewel, "So far, this is my only route to power, and it's going to do something bad to me the more I use it. How's that for a deal?"
“Ah, we all start somewhere,” Helsket said, “you’re just a step or two behind your peers. It won’t be long before you’re just as capable as anyone your age. Probably more. As for The Jewel - well, we all sacrifice for power. It's the way of the world.”
Again, Mikel was reminded of how similar Helsket and Celine sounded when speaking of concepts like power or fairness. Maybe they were meant for each other? If places like The Market existed, he suspected there might be hope for the two, if nothing firm.
“I know using Essentia isn’t absolutely needed to be a successful adventurer, but I’m still wondering why I can’t do anything like Dad. What makes me different? You said Dad had similar issues - what did he do to get over them?”
Helsket looked darkly over Mikel’s shoulder before answering.
“That box Telgil used to test you - your father got the same result, not when he was young, but… Well after a certain event. I don’t like to talk about it.”
Mikel scrunched his brow, “What do you mean? He could do things just fine after he fixed whatever was wrong. I always heard how he could leap several dozen feet into the air, almost flying. How could we have gotten the same results? He could use Essentia as well as Stamina Skills.”
For a long moment, Helsket remained quiet, biting and chewing his food in thought. When he spoke his words were measured and sure.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“I’m not entirely sure how your father did what he did. There was a time he couldn’t do any of either though - and I’ve got my suspicions about what made him able to utilize Essentia again. But I’ve got nothing solid. All I know is when I met him he was strong and could use Stamina Skills and Essentia Skills as easily as one another. After... Well after that event, it was as if he were crippled. It took him months to recuperate, and again only after she showed up on the scene.”
Mikel tilted his head, “What event are you even talking about? Who's the woman? Mom? Who?"
Mikel's tone had grown heated in the exchange, and although he knew better, he pressed forward. If Helsket was going to be this obviously obtuse about things, then so could he.
"There is SO much you're not telling me. You and Telgil did this in The Market. What if what you're not telling me ends up being the reason I end up dead? What if more people die because of it? I can't use Essentia Skills and the Stamina transmuting trick takes too long and too much energy. I can't fight with it - I can barely use the first transportation Skill I learned. And again, the more I use The Jewel the more it impacts me! I'm not sure how exactly it's going to do that, but I know enough to realize it won't be good and we'll all have to deal with that then."
Five minutes passed as the two men stared each other down. Finally, something banged from outside and made both men break their shared death stare.
Helsket took a bite of food and grumbled before answering Mikel's assault.
“It’s not a story we tell,” Helsket said darkly, “It’s not something any of us even talked about. For those six months after your dad was injured, we thought our adventuring days were over - at least with your father as our leader. Things weren’t looking good until… Well, she showed up.”
“She? Again - too cryptic.” A sharp tone had crept into his voice and Mikel did nothing to hide it.
Helsket waved him off, “No matter. I’ve said too much for now. Once I can think this over a bit more I’ll tell you. Maybe Cal can do it. He’s a better storyteller than I am when it comes to stuff like this. You have a right to know, what with your,” he gestured vaguely around Mikel, “Oddity, but I don’t think I’m the one to tell it.”
Mikel shifted in irritation. He wanted to ask more but ultimately took another bite of bread instead. He knew Helsket well enough that if he pushed him the big man would just clam up. He knew his best bet to hear what exactly Helsket was talking about would come with time and patience - no matter how hard he wanted to push for answers.
Although Erik Raithson had been a prominent member of the world, adventuring all over and slaying innumerable monsters in the span of roughly thirty-five of active duty, very little was known about his private life. Mikel suspected his dad had obfuscated things intentionally to avoid undue scrutiny falling on his family.
Although it had been nice being able to grow up outside of the spheres of influence prominent members of society constantly battled - He’d wished he’d had more… Connection, than the few and rare people who came and visited Raithson Manor from time to time. Always for business and never for pleasure.
He hungered to know more about his family and his history - but knew that in time he might find answers if he just kept moving forward. Just so far on this journey he’d uncovered more than he’d ever guessed at - and that was just surface level. With that knowledge had come more questions - but that was always the case.
“Can you pick me up a few things?” Mikel asked as Helsket moved to stand up.
The air had cooled between the two - or maybe the tense air had simply bled into the sapping heat of the nearly evening in Farraway.
“What do you need?” The old adventurer asked as he turned away from Mikel and headed towards the door.
“Ink, paper, and a notebook. Is there a bindery in town?”
“Gods, maybe you should have gone to see Cal first, that puffed-up pimpernel. He was always after books and ink and paper.”
Helsket turned to Mikel with a wry expression on his face, eyebrow raised, “No chance I could convince you to use blood as ink?” He drew out the word blood to several syllables in a wavering tone.
Mikel barked a rough laugh, taking the offered olive branch of shared humor, “No. Not a chance. Blood is terrible as a writing medium. It oxidizes too quickly and it tends to get,” He rubbed his index finger and thumb together, “gummy.”
“Worth a shot,” Helsket shrugged with a smile, “It was an offer I always made to Cal - never took me up on it either. We always had more blood around than ink.”
“Were you going to be the donor?”
“Supplier - don’t ask from whence your bounty comes.”
Mikel grimaced and waved, “Black ink. Thick paper. Journal - I’ve got money if you need it. Paper isn’t cheap.”
“Think nothing of it,” Helsket said, “Although your father devested us, he didn’t make us poor. Despite these humble surroundings, I was a rich man well before the end. I knew he had other motives when he kicked us to the curb - I’d never guessed The Rot though. Paper and ink and books are better than the cheap liquor and cheaper whores I’ve been spending it on. Maybe it’ll do better to honor his memory than what I’ve been doing.”
Mikel was silent for a long time, studying the brick of cheese in front of him.
“I… Didn’t mean it like that,” Helsket said, not turning around from the doorway.
“Like what?” Mikel asked stiffly as his voice hitched and his emotions raged inside, “Like what, Helsket?”
“I didn’t mean to make it sound like he… Your dad was already dead. He’s not. Not yet at least.”
Mikel remained silent as Helsket heaved a sigh and opened the door, letting in the stifling outside air before walking out into the bustling street and closing the door behind him.