Yet again, I find myself learning something important, just to be left with even more questions. I'm definitely starting to notice a pattern here, and I don't think I'm even close to the end of it.
Somehow, I've been stuck with the powers of not one, but two Saints. Some of the most powerful people in the history of the Grand. Both of which who seem to have no record of ever existing, at least to the public. Which just leaves me with even less to work with and no idea where to look next.
Like a rabbit hole that just keeps—going.
And the unknowing is what eats at me all the time.
It's frustrating.
But progress is progress, I suppose.
There isn't much left to discuss after that new revelation. Lord Felix and Ethel find the title of this mysterious Saint Micah rather strange.
The Saint of Safe Soils. Which seems pretty self-explanatory given the crazy skill he's given me. And Saints tend to be titled based on their exploits.
Ethel seems to think they might have been a [Priest], if anything. As [Priests] are utilized all over the Grand to bless fields against all manner of pestilence. But there are only two instances of [Priests] reaching the status of Saint in all of Grandian history. And neither of them was named Micah.
But we all acknowledge we're not exactly in a position to go searching deeper than this right now. It'll have to be something we save for later. Which I can't exactly disagree.
I'm already feeling overwhelmed again as is.
The sound of the front door unlatching catches our attention before the door into the den swings open to let my mother in. The smell of sweat wafting heavily from her. The dim red light from the firepit making the dark circles under her eyes very apparent. She looks surprised to see us all as she pulls off her coat and lets her loose braids down. "Well, hello all. Is there something the matter?" She asks quietly, her voice a bit raspy. Likely from shouting all day.
Lord Felix slides out of his chair and smooths out his blouse while clearing his throat. "Not at all. We were just having a chat with your lovely daughter, and I offered my assistance with her unique predicament." He answers honestly. "Although I did wish to have a brief conversation with you about our current plans moving forward, just to keep you aware."
Mama nods slowly, glancing in my direction and giving me that motherly scan over. "Right. Aye, I can spare a few minutes. Just give me a moment please, your lordship."
"Of course. Take your time." He assures, watching as my mother takes a few strides over to me. Causing Thorpe, who is still sitting on the stool next to me, to lean himself backwards and out of way.
I clam up a bit as she narrows her eyes at me. "Are you alright?" She asks while looking me up and down several times in quick succession.
I nod slowly up at her. "I'm okay, Mama. Something wrong?" She is definitely acting a bit frazzled, and it's starting to concern me.
Mama purses her lips and rests her hands on her hips. "Apparently not. But I've been getting an earful from half my workers about watching you get thrashed for an hour, makin craters in the ground." She states with a huff, sending a sharp look towards the [Knight].
Ethel grimaces slightly, "That—isn't exactly exaggerated. But it isn't as bad as it sounds. She was entirely safe with me, I swear this on my life." She assures, but shrinks under my mother's powerful stare.
I reach out to grab Mama's hand and give it a comforting squeeze. "I'm fine, truly. Just a few bruises. Nothing serious." I state more firmly.
She stares down at me critically and takes in a slow breath, watching me carefully while I put on a brave face. Because to be fair, I am pretty sore all over still. It's just not to the point where I can't deal with it.
Her hand tightens around mine as she exhales through her nose, moving her other hand to cup my cheek. Her eyes softening from the concerning intensity a moment ago. "You had better be. It's not good for my heart when you get hurt." She admits with a frown while petting my cheek.
My heart aches a bit at that response, leaning my cheek further into her palm. "I'm sorry. I don't mean to worry you. I just want to be strong enough to protect the village." I say honestly, causing a slight smile to crack across her face.
"I know, I know. But it's my job to be overprotective. So you just have to deal with it." She remarks, giving my cheek a pinch before she stands up straight. "Off to bed, then. You look absolutely knackered."
"Look who's talking." Thorpe comments with a smirk.
Mama pouts at the man. "I want none of your lip, Auggie."
Ethel snorts and covers her mouth. "Awe, Auggie. How cute."
Old Guard grimaces and stands up off the stool, scratching at his greying brown beard. "God damn, Yara. Did you really have to call me that in front of them. Now she's gonna bully me with it."
"Damn right I am." The [Knight] giggles, flashing him a winning smile. "But I'll be strategic with it." She says with a mischievous light in her eyes. One that is shared by my mother who sticks her tongue out at the old man.
Thorpe shudders and steps away to the door. "Never a moment of peace." He grumbles as he grabs his coat and gives a wave over his shoulder. "I'll get out of your way then since obviously I'm not wanted." He dramatically remarks, sniffling and wiping away fake tears before he exits the cottage.
Mama shakes her head and sighs, turning her attention back to Lord Felix. "My lord, we can speak for a moment. But I'd like to tuck in rather quickly before I collapse." She chuckles despite not sounding at all like she's joking.
The nobleman offers a polite smile. "Of course. I just wanted to get you up to speed. It will only be a moment." He assures before he glances at me and offers a bow of his head. "And a good night to you, young miss Perro. I am glad I could have been of assistance to you. Even if it wasn't as much as expected."
I stand up and return the bow with a fuller one. "Thank you, my lord. It might not have been a lot, but it was still substantial."
And it truly is. I may not know everything, but I understand how my skills work better. And I now know who to thank for giving them to me. As well as who saved my life, even if I'm not sure why.
But I would have none of that if it wasn't for Lord Felix, Ethel, and Arric.
The nobleman nods firmly. "Indeed. We shall perhaps peer into your troubles further once this mess is finished. But do not let us keep you away from your resting."
Ethel gives me a warm smile and a wink as she steps past to follow Lord Felix into the kitchen. "Good night, Liore. I'll see you tomorrow."
I offer a wave in response and start to angle myself down the hall before Mama snags my arm, just for her to lean over and plant a kiss on my forehead. "I'm sure I'll hear all about what he helped you with later. But sweet dreams, dove."
A small tired smile stretches across my lips. "You too, Mama. Cause you look how I feel." I say while giving her a stern narrowing of my eyes before marching down the hall. Her chuckle in response echoes in my ears as I turn the corner into my room and shut the door behind me.
I beeline to my bed, stripping off my casual clothes with each step. Thankful that I had laid out my nightgown on my bedspread before I left for the meeting. I flip open the skirt and crawl into the loose garment like a worm, continuing on until I've slithered under my covers.
I bundle myself up into a cocoon as my body sinks into the plush bedding. Taking a deep slow breath and letting all the tension in my body bleed out.
Or at least as much as I can. Some of it stays as the quiet finally sets in, and I'm left with just my own thoughts.
Faint muffled conversation in the kitchen, too far to be intelligible.
Crickets chirping outside of my window.
The meeting earlier is starting to replay in my head.
I'm still a little pissed off that I wasn't told about the [Bandit's] sneaking around the village. There's no telling how many times I've been near one and not known it. Makes me feel horrible.
How many of our conversations have they listened in on? How much do they know about me? Were they listening to us just now?
I sigh, curling into myself tighter and trying my best not to keep glancing at the window next to my bed.
Okay. I'll admit, it probably would not have been a good idea to tell me.
I've been pretty neurotic recently after the hunting trip, and I probably would have been even more paranoid.
I don't have to like it, though.
Besides...
Arric is supposed to kill them tonight. Which still puts a bad taste in my mouth. But it has to be done.
I stretch my feet down, feeling the shape of my sword weighing on the bedding. Getting some comfort from its presence.
Enough to where my eyes finally shut, and my exhaustion takes the reins.
_______________________
I can see it out there. In the distance. Surrounded by the dark.
Always too far. No matter how long I move toward it.
A flame that shouldn't exist.
Bright violent violet.
A cold kind of warmth.
Rippling like water.
Its edges slither through the air in abnormal directions.
Tasting for scents like the tongues of lizards.
Hunting.
It's dangerous.
And yet, it comforts me.
Every waver from the wind makes it whisper.
Words that worm their way into my will.
May my enemies divide before me.
May my strikes meet no resistance.
May—
My eyes snap open. A familiar prickly sensation crawling across my body. Not sharp enough to be near me. So not an immediate danger. But my heart begins to race.
I feel like a stone sunk into the mattress. My limbs heavy but the weight is lifting. Movement returning to each appendage with each beat in my chest.
And with a rush, I burst out from under my covers to stand in the center of my room. My sword readied in both hands, ready and willing. Which I don't even remember grabbing, let alone removing it from its sheathe.
The blade is glowing faintly. Dim violet swirls dancing across its surface as my eyes scan the room frantically. Searching for the direction my [Threat Detection] is warning me of.
But the light slowly fades over the next few seconds. And I spot nothing around me.
Yet [Threat Detection] is still active. That dull prickling all across my body. Meaning the threat is more radial than directed.
Something is definitely wrong.
My nose wrinkles as I catch a noticeable scent in the room. Eerily metallic.
I sniff the air, whirling my head around to see where the smell is coming from before I realize it's from my right arm.
My brows furrow as I lift it, angling it into the moonlight coming from my window.
A rather deep flesh wound seems to be cut into my upper arm. Blood freshly oozing from it and down my side.
Did I cut myself when I got the sword out? I was already holding it when I woke up.
I poke around the wound with my left hand, but no matter how hard I press on it, I barely feel it. The spot is entirely numb.
Why does that feel familiar?
Creak
My eyes snap towards the door, hearing someone step on the floorboards in the hallway. A few more creaks from the old wood, loud enough to track them through the wall just from the sound. Heading towards the kitchen. Mama getting water?
I take two steps to the door but stop, looking down at my sword and wondering if I should just leave it behind. But the consistent activity being sensed by [Threat Detection] forces me to keep ahold of it.
I open the door carefully and step out into the hall. My mother's door is already wide open on the right, so I turn left to where the footsteps I heard were going and freeze in place. My blood freezing along with it.
Standing in front of the door to the kitchen is a tall shape I can't quite make out in the dark at first until my eyes adjust. But I already know it isn't my mother. At least not the one standing there.
Because I can clearly see her draped over his shoulder instead.
Limply...
My guts suddenly feel like they're twisting into knots. A torrent of emotion overwhelming my senses.
The figure is dressed in light leather armor with a tan cloak decorated with runes. Greasy blonde hair clumped together into dense strands and a scratchy looking stubble. Face pocked with scars and sun damage. Several knives and a falchion sheathed at his belt.
And he's staring right at me. Shock written all over his face. Caught like a deer in lamplight.
"How—are you awake?" He asks slowly, as if he can't believe it.
But I barely acknowledge his question while my eyes are focused on my mother hanging from him like a sack of grain. My hand white knuckling the grip of my broadsword. The blood that had frozen quickly switches to a boil as my heart begins to pound against the inside of my ribs as if it's trying to escape.
And in horror, my eyes track something trickling from her head and dripping to the floor.
Then something in me just snaps.
I'm mid-leap before I even have the chance to register when I started it. Angled low and rolling into a slide to attempt knocking him over.
"SHIT!" he barks in surprise, quick and agile enough to dodge out of the way. But at an odd angle, slamming through the kitchen door instead to stumble into the big kitchen table. He looses grip on my mother as her body hits the ground and rolls a few feet away.
My slide sends me into the den wall with a thud, but the impact barely phases me. Pure adrenaline pumping energy into my every movement as I speed to my feet and burst into the kitchen after him with a prepared overhead strike.
The [Bandit] is no slouch despite the panic in his eyes, his falchion leaves its scabbard before I make it to him. He parries my strike aside awkwardly before he gets his footing and returns with one of his own. Slashing across my midsection, cutting deep through my nightgown, but I backpedal early enough for the blade to miss skin.
I hit the wall next to the kitchen door before I get back on the move, the man barring down on me. He sends slash after slash my way. And unlike with the [Highwayman], I can keep up much better.
But he's still stronger than me.
My parries and blocks send me off balance, letting him get a few superficial cuts through on my arms and sides. Blood soaking through my white gown in several spots, but I ignore it.
I block an overhead, but force of the strike bashes the flat of my blade right into my nose. Letting him push forward into my space before sending his knee into my gut.
All the oxygen ejects from my lungs as my back slams into one of the lower kitchen cabinets, caving its door in with a loud crack. Losing grip of my broadsword as it clatters to the floor.
The [Bandit] shakes himself off as he starts approaching again. Bringing the sword up for a stab.
I can feel wetness trailing down the back of my head, but all the pain is fading fast with all the adrenaline. My eyes flickering to one of the kitchen chairs nearby.
I let myself fall sideways to the floor and roll behind the chair, locking my knees in and immediately activating [Spring Kick]. The chair blasts upwards towards the man's head. But his reaction time is still too good. Dodging back out of the way of the worst of it, but one chunk of the chair still manages to embed into his right shoulder.
"FUCK!" He shouts, his falchion dropping next to his feet.
He grabs at the piece of chair leg speared into him as he backpedals. Grunting and hissing before he's able to yank it out. But by the time he does, I've already rolled behind another chair and locked in.
His eyes go wide, "DON'T YOU DA—"
The next chair shatters apart, brutally scattering shrapnel into the wall above the [Bandits] head after he manages to throw himself to the floor.
I heave a labored breath, scrambling to my feet and swiping my sword back up before speeding around the kitchen table, ready to to hack into him. Until I see him wiping something out from behind him. [Threat Detection] flaring painfully across my body, causing my breath to hitch.
I throw my upper body backwards before a familiar KTHOOM loudly echoes in the room. Something fast whipping right past my cheek and shattering the kitchen window.
My dodge leaning me too far, so I easily lose my balance and fall onto my back with a painful thud. Smacking the back of my head again.
I try to scramble back up to my feet, but I slip on the blood that has leaked down my body and tumble back to the floor.
His footsteps thundering in my ears before he shoves the table aside to get to me. Whipping out his left arm and smashing me in the side of the head with the blunt grip of his flash pipe. Sending me rolling over onto my belly.
Pain radiates across my face while stars fill my vision. A stuttered groan escaping my lips as blood drips from behind my head and out of my mouth. My movements slowing down.
That last hit really sapped a lot out of me.
"God damn. They weren't kidding. You're a little monster, ain't ya?" He remarks, sounding out of breath himself as he steps over to where he dropped his falchion. Picking it up with his left hand while his right seems to have gone limp.
"But you should have just stayed in bed." He sighs and begins to approach with a startup to an overhead slash. But his foot gets caught in something, causing his momentum to topple him forward and land face first in front of me. Giving me a chance to crawl backwards and start picking myself up again. Albeit rather too slowly.
The [Bandit] lifts his head, blood dripping from his nose as he snarls and rolls over to see what he's caught on. Revealing the sight of my mother, currently latched around his ankle and staring daggers up at him.
A brief sense of relief hits me at seeing her still alive. But it doesn't last long.
The man growls with frustration, lifts his leg and slams his boot into my mothers face. "LET. GO. BITCH!" The [Bandit] yells, bringing his foot down on her head again and again. But she just won't let go even as her face becomes bruised and bloody.
Which just makes my vision go red.
Gritting my teeth hard enough to feel one crack. Energy crashing right back into my body like a flood. My legs bending before the leap, sending me straight up into the ceiling. Snapping rafters and beams with my back on the way up, slowing me down before I descend. My legs already locked in for another kick.
"DON'T HURT MY MOTHER!"
The [Bandits] attention snapping up to see my feet driving down right towards his face. His eyes wide with fright. "NONONONO—"
CRUNCH