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Wyatt Graves

My eyes take in the black veins covering Earl's arms and neck from the Concoction as his shaking worsens. The instant I get the feeling it's going to go wrong for him, I get up and pull the needle out of Earl's arm as his shaking escalates to full-on seizure, but it's all already injected. Pain enters my heart and makes my hands shake as I watch my friend's body seize, but Johnny tells me to calm down.

"Calm down. This is normal. Most who take a Concoction act like that."

I calm down slightly and just watch. Johnny would know best. However, I keep an eye on those around me, watching their raised guns. I've only experienced a Concoction and never watched another take one. From there, a few moments pass with Earl struggling to breathe and shaking in his chair before a gasp eventually comes from his mouth.

At most, only ten seconds of tenseness last before the artifact in front of him breaks into sparkling Sigils, whatever held it together breaking apart as they float into the air and fade.

Right after his gasp of air, Earl's arms slam onto the table. He begins to heave, and I go over to him to ensure he's okay.

"You okay? Is everything alright? Did it work?"

Before he even gets the chance to answer, though, I see the chains on him slowly change in color. From red to orange, they go. Another loop goes around his fingers compared to the last time. It seems as though his Sigil is already accumulating strength at his hand. It worked! A beaming grin latches onto my face, and refuses to leave.

"It worked! Everybody, it worked!"

Johnny only smiles and congratulates Earl. He doesn't seem anywhere near as excited as I am. Neither does Earl. The man stays almost glued to the table as he shakes. But he does eventually manage a nod.

I pat him on the back as Earl just puts his head down.

"Good. Congratulations Earl. I believe you might be the first to have two Gambler Sigils. I've never heard of anyone who has. Though, they could just be hiding it. Luck is strongest when it's unexpected, after all."

Johnny looks around the room, searching for something.

"Is there anyone else who has answered their Metaphor but has not spent enough time to gain the resistance needed to advance?"

Bonfire raises his hand to Johnny's question, and Johnny passes him a Concoction as well after nodding at him. That leaves only two in his pack.

"Yeah, me. I need to catch up to that sheet of paper over there. Am I free to go and advance?"

Johnny nods at his suggestion but gives him some words as he leaves. And while he does so, I check on Earl, but the man just says he's okay. That I should leave him alone for right now. I shrug and agree as I listen to Johnny continue his orders.

"Yes, do it as soon as possible. The more fire you can make, the better. Be sure to focus on stopping an Outlaw's guns from firing if you can. And make sure whoever you're killing deserves it."

Bonfire waves his hand in agreement as he stands up from his chair and walks out of the room.

"Got it, boss. Going after a Hunter Clumsy found last night. Don't worry about him not deserving it."

So Bonfire is going to go kill a man to advance? I don't know what's more brutal, taking it from a long-dead man's foot or a recently dead man. Either way, all it does is show how fucked up Sigils can be.

After Johnny finishes addressing everyone, he then gives us an overall plan.

"Remember, we are here to stand against the Hunters. This break is only our first challenge. After this will come the hunt of Darkstep. Whether we hunt her or she hunts us is yet to be decided. A long road remains before us, but we must stand together."

Johnny puts his hands on the table as he looks at each and every one of us in this room. I can feel the devotion in his voice as he speaks.

"We are the strongest of those gathered in Rustbank, and it is our duty to protect the weak. So do what you can to keep everyone else alive. Killing monsters, demons, and Outlaws is essential but not as important as survival. If we could run, we would have. But we cannot. To our east are heavily fortified towns prepared for if the break overruns us. We would get killed from behind while seizing the towns, so here we are. And here we will remain."

Johnny opens his eyes wide, meeting each of us with a confident gaze.

We may be under-equipped, undermanned, and under-defended, but that does not mean we cannot win. All you guys need to do is hold out for the Demon Of Storms to fall."

After Johnny finishes his speech, a thought comes to my mind. How are we underequipped? There were so many weapons? There were dozens of Colts, Claymores, and other weapons. I bring up the question to Johnny as people start getting ready to leave.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

"Johnny, what do you mean we're under-equipped? Those were a lot of weapons."

A few scoff at my question and laugh at my ignorance, but Johnny answers me without ridicule.

"Those were many weapons, but the strongest was a 5th Sigil, and we only had one of them. Those were only a lot for us few. For the few hundred outside? Those are scraps that will only feed a couple of dozen. We do not have nearly enough to equip all the people we have."

His words make me imagine a town full of people. I do remember it being packed during the day as we walked past. A thought of them all equipped with weapons follows that image. The number of weapons and other shit that would be needed is ludicrous. And then that leads to an old memory of Edmund's vault. Indeed it has enough to give all these people weapons, right?

"Johnny, I have an idea. Edmund had a vault beneath his cabin full of weapons. Do you think that would be enough to field everyone with weapons?"

Johnny's head turns to me abruptly, his hawk-like eyes focusing entirely on me. His entire persona almost changes into an enthusiastic child.

"Edmund had a vault? Of course! That's why he was in Tornridge! Where! Where was it! Do you have the key!?"

His enthusiasm and volume shock me, and I answer confused as I am unsure what he's talking about.

"Key? Was there a key? I do know where it's at, though."

Johnny's face turns down, cast immediately from the excitement he had. But it quickly recovers as his attention turns to Virgil.

"Damn, you don't have the key. They are nigh-impossible to open without the key. But surely, it must be out there somewhere… Wait. Virgil, didn't you say that Alexos believes if he had Death's Lantern, he could, at the very least, speak to his dead family?"

Virgil nods and affirms what Alexos said.

"Yes. That's what he said."

The gears in my head start turning the second that Virgil says that, and so do they inside Johnny's mind. Johnny just speaks the ideas from the gears out loud as I keep mine to myself. If we can talk to the dead through entering the Underworld with Death's Lantern, then...

We can learn where the key is!

"Then, we can learn where the key is. New plan. Unless Alexos is able to prove his story beyond a shadow of a doubt, we kill him and take Death's Lantern. I don't care if he kills Hura or not. What do you all say? A trip to the Underworld after this and a vault full of century-old artifacts, Colts, Claymores, and more?"

Enthusiastic nods circle around the whole room as everyone agrees, each pitching in their own thoughts or a simple nod.

"I'd like a new mirror; my hair has been getting even paler lately. The vault has one, right?

"Oooh! Guns!"

"Yeah, Guns!"

"...."

"...."

"..."

"Frank wants a new smothering blanket!"

"I don't want to go there, but I could use a new garrote..."

Each person has their own thoughts, even Primrose, who mutters under her breath at the end of the ruckus, but they all seem to be in agreement. Most only nod in agreement, but some speak out, like Abraham, Otto, Marrion, and Frank. I feel a little bit of guilt about what I started. Because even if Alexos does everything right, there is still a chance for him to die and lose his dream of bringing his family back to life. Who am I kidding? Why do I feel bad? I don't know. Fuck.

Maybe I just shouldn't have said anything…

Johnny finalizes the plans for after the fight.

"So that's what we'll do if we get that lantern. I do wonder what the Underworld is like. I don't believe anyone living has ever gone into the pale lady's domain."

Johnny then turns to Abraham to end the meeting. Then, he surprisingly addresses me too.

"You're all free to go now. Let the loot of the vault be your motivation for the coming battles. Abraham, Heath, and Wyatt. You three stay."

Everyone else funnels out as I give Earl and Virgil the nod to go. Both Abraham and I question the man, not understanding why we're being held.

"Why can't I go! I want to make fun of Bonfire. He and his stupid crew…."

"What's wrong, Johnny?"

The Gunfighter turns to Heath and orders him to pull out his sleep medicine, which makes both Abraham and I back up to the walls.

"Heath, get your sleep medicine. Wyatt, when was the last time you slept?"

His question confuses me, and I think back, trying to answer it. The only thing that comes to mind is when I passed out after fighting Alexos.

"Uhh... When I passed out fighting the Phantom Pain."

Johnny sighs and then asks me again.

"And before that?"

"I don't know…"

Johnny shakes his head and turns to Abraham.

"What about you?"

Abraham bites on his fingernails anxiously as he looks away from Johnny.

"Four…"

"Four, what?"

The pale man with white hair lashes out, which actually seems to fit his character so far from what I've seen. He has shown to be quite vicious, at least to Bonfire. A rivalry for sure exists between the two. His face curls in indignation, and he tries to scoot away from Johnny.

"Four days! Why do you need to be so pushy about it?! Who cares how often I sleep!"

Johnny looks at the both of us as his hands come up in frustration. Then he orders the doctor, still in the room, to do his job.

"I care for both of you. I need you both on top of your games. Heath, give them a dose of sleep aid. Just enough for a few hours. Not enough that they'll sleep through battle. Damn, insomniacs."

Johnny shakes his head in incomprehension as he curses the two of us. My eyes go wide as I see Heath approach Abraham, who starts screaming and twisting away, but before the white-haired man can get away, Johnny grabs him. While he's restrained, Heath injects him.

"No! Don't do this to me! You know what is under my eyes when I close them! Please! Don't. Don't. Don. D…”

"Sorry, lad. But you need sleep. Four days is too much. And you, Wyatt, are you going to resist too?"

I look between Heath and Johnny, hesitating. Johnny puts Abraham on his shoulder as I decide what to do. Should I just take the injection? There is no way I'll be able to fall asleep anytime soon; I'm too anxious for the break. Just as Johnny takes a step toward me threateningly, I agree.

"Wait, it's fine. Who's going to take me back to the hotel, though?"

Heath sighs in relief as he shoos Johnny out. The doctor follows Johnny out until the man leaves the room totally.

"He agreed! Just go now. Go get ready. Go on!"

After Heath pushes Johnny out, he closes the door and comes back to me.

"Sorry about that. He just wants you all to survive. And an exhausted, tired, and sleep-deprived Wyatt or Abraham are not likely to live. Just sit here, and I'll inject you. It's fast, easy, and simple. The stuff is made with Ether, after all."

I nod at him and sit down. He sits beside me, and we talk for a few moments before he injects me. His warm smile and caring gaze bring out concerns from within me. For some reason, I feel like I can talk to this man about anything. Maybe it's his Sigil that does that. Has to be. I'm not that messed up, am I?

"Heath?"

"Yeah?"

"Can I ask you something? Something personal? You are a doctor, after all."

"Go ahead, lad."

"Everyone keeps telling me I need to rest, but it's so hard. Every time I begin to relax, something either happens that I need to help with, or I am just so tense that I can't even begin to relax. What do I do?"

The doctor looks at me for a few moments as his gaze turns to the wooden table. He sighs and puts a hand on my arm before responding. The older man's wrinkles that are just starting to come in contort in worry as he speaks.

"I don't know, kid. I can give you some extra doses of my sleep aid to help you fall asleep, but other than that, it's all you. A young kid like you thrown into this is guaranteed to have issues relaxing, let alone sleeping. It's infrequent for anyone under eighteen or seventeen to possess a Sigil, and most suffer long-term mental issues from it. Not to mention you have an artifact attached to you, constantly haunting your thoughts. My only advice is that you don't need to fix everything. Sometimes, you need to let things go. Otherwise, you'll run yourself dead from the effort. Not everything depends on you. No one bears the weight of the world alone."

I see the wisdom in his words and nod at them, but I do ask for some of the sleep aid. Despite how little I sleep, I haven't even felt tired in a long time. Everything is so tightly wound that my eyes won't even close on their own. Without his help, I doubt I'll be able to fall asleep even with those tidbits of advice. I also ask about Abraham, the man who supposedly has insomnia like me.

"What about Abraham? Why does he need to be forced asleep?"

Heath looks out the door, where Abraham went, before answering. The skinny pale man with white hair who looks like he's addicted to something left with Johnny by being knocked out and dragged. I cringe a little at the thought it almost happened to me.

"That man… He's much younger than he looks. Stress has aged him thoroughly. It's not my place to talk about his demons, but they are deep. Like you, he gained a Sigil young. That is all I'll say. And ignore his vile words; he doesn't really mean them. If he did, Johnny wouldn't keep him around, no matter how skilled he is. Now, let's get you to bed, lad."

Heath puts the needle against my arm as I thank him one last time. The doctor is incredibly caring. The fact that he would yell and shoo Johnny out for me is enough for me to like him regardless of how he cared for Elizabeth. I respect that he wants to be on the front lines to help people, but I do agree with Johnny. He has no place fighting with us. If he dies, it would be a tragedy.

"Thank you, I–"

Before I can get the whole thing out, I feel my body go limp. This limpness, followed by full-body fuzziness, makes my head hit the table, sending me into cozy darkness.