There are levels of weakness and the causes of which vary, say after a heavy gym session you can feel exhausted yet elated. Or you’ve just completed a long day in the office and you finally settle down on your couch at home, and you feel a deep brain fatigue, one you may not even recover from the next day. And then there’s a different type of exhaustion, one where each breath feels like a marathon, your eyelids as heavy and unwieldy as cement, the mere thought of activity being pure anathema to your being. The latter was what Joe was currently feeling. He was lying in his temporary bed, a wet rag placed upon his forehead. Next to him, silent Bob stood deep in thought as he held vigil. Joe groaned as he slowly regained consciousness, causing Bob to turn his sightless gaze towards him.
“Welcome back to the realm of the living,” Bob said dryly. Joe nodded weakly as he removed the rag from his brow. “How long was I out?”
“Only a day”
“Huh. I feel like shit”
“I’m not surprised, frankly the fact you remain alive beggars belief. Not to mention you somehow removed Last Kiss from your chest leaving no shadow of a wound. Would you mind explaining that?”
“Er, I’m afraid your guess is as good as mine, I don’t remember too much except for my abject refusal to die”
Bob nodded to himself, turning his head away from Joe.
“Well, although unprecedented in our history, two challengers survived the Pict’s Gauntlet. So now you have gained the right, through the path of adversity, to join our ranks and thus all the benefits that are included. However” here Bob’s fists tightened “you skills are very much below par so you must complete a year’s training under my care. And “ Bob held his hand up as Joe made to interrupt” because of your age, this might have to be extended.” Bob walked to the door that stood open. “ When you are ready and able, exit this door and you shall become a member of the Island Gardeners.” And with that, Bob left the room leaving Joe to his thoughts.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
‘Island Gardeners? What the hell is that? Some sort of nursery murder school?’ Joe felt somewhat disgruntled with his meeting with Bob. Having once again survived certain death by the skin of his teeth he didn’t really fancy the idea of a year’s training. Not to mention, what would he need this training for? Surely this whole death battle was sufficient to teach him what he needed to seek vengeance and truth for his father?
He sat up in bed, checking his body over in the dim light. Seeing that his stomach wound was bandaged and painful he left it be, taking more time to rub where the blade had penetrated his chest. ‘What happened there?’ he queried. Using his mind’s eye he looked to where his flames burned. ‘Oh, a new flame! But they’re both so weak, barely a flame at all’. Still, he felt a sense of elation from this discovery, he was making progress on this mysterious path his master had sent him down. ‘I wonder if I'll get to see some new memories soon?’ He looked at the door where Bob had gone, feeling a sense of trepidation befall him. ‘A mysterious murder cult, training with a blind bald giant and a year of my life or more gone?’ He shook his head. It felt like too much, so far he had being going with the flow, reacting emotionally rather than rationally. The whole thing was far too bonkers. ‘No, I don’t need this, all I need is to find out where they took my father and expose their lies, not commit corporate genocide.’
Taking one last look at the door from where Bob had gone, Joe turned around and the exited through the other open door in his room. His intuition was correct because he soon found himself on an old wooden lift operated by another silent suited man. Joe stood upon the lift and it began to creak into action as the guard pulled various pulleys. Before long Joe stood on the bank of the island, the ruins of the castle behind him. ‘Back to Blighty I think’.
—--
Bob watched as Joe’s back disappeared in the horizon along with the boat. He shook his head sadly. He turned to his companions by his side, shrugging. “If he returns here, send him to my place in the Northern Territories. Otherwise I’ll see you all next year”.