Three days later, in a small village, in the inn, at a table in the corner, a man was sitting. He had a strong, muscular build, short grey hair spiked on his head. He looked to be in his fifties. His eyes were a light grey. But the feature one couldn't help notice was his left arm. Or rather the absence of it. It had been cut just under the shoulder. The right one was of monstrous size, like all the muscles from the missing one had nested there. Even considering the missing limb, if one had to describe the man in one word, it was difficult to think of anything other than "Strength."
He was slowly drinking a glass of milk. Then his eyes glazed over, as if a layer of frost had chilled them. In the dim light, they glowed brightly. The phenomenon lasted a few seconds. Then the eyes returned to their light grey state, and the pupil adjusted to the ambient light. The eyelid didn't blink. A glass twinkled as it was set on the table. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, the man said in a deep voice, almost purring. "So you're coming to see me, old friend. As he nimbly got up and walked toward the door, he added, "I hope you improved since last time."
***
Gareth and Jake were walking on the road. "The village is just after this turn," said the warrior. Jake glanced at his mentor, "Are you sure your friend will be there?" His companion made a noncommittal shrug. "He should be. If he isn't here, he will have left instructions to find his new lair." Then he looked at the young man and gave his lazy grin, "And he probably already knows we're here." Jake felt like it was a good time to shake his head, roll his eyes, and sigh at the same time.
As they approached the village, they saw a figure in the distance. Standing on the road, arms crossed. No, not "arms", arm … crossed? Jake squinted to take in the stranger's vibes. He could read people well. And a few individuals had spelled "danger" more than this individual. It was not his massive muscular body or his piercing gaze that made Jake's hair stand on end. There was a quiet ineluctability emanating from this man. Like meeting fate, and fate didn't have good news to share.
Jake stopped a few feet away. He didn't mean to. His body just froze. Like he met an invisible frontier he was not allowed in. Gareth continued to walk unfazed. He stopped one step away from the stranger.
Silence stretched, then compressed, then broke. "Harlan," said Gareth simply. Harlan raised an eyebrow, making a show of looking at the brawler's corrupted eyes. "Looks like you had a few sleepless nights." He snapped his fingers near the eye, "You're completely blind on that side." Gareth grinned, "Thank god, I thought you had lost the other arm for a moment." Silence stretched again. Then both men exploded into booming laughter and embraced in a manly hug. Jake thought he heard muscles creak.
As they let go, Harlan's expression grew serious. "What happened?" Gareth grinned, "I thought you could tell." As the one-armed warrior didn't react, he continued, "It was Chala." Harlan winced slightly, looking at his missing arm. "If you came for advice on what to do, I don't think my way of stopping the shadow-corruption will work with you." Jake's mentor looked at his pupil. "No, I have something I need to tell you." The grey-haired man turned toward the village and walked away. "Then come, we will be better sitting. And with something to drink." Jake returned timidly the smile Gareth gave him before following on wobbly legs.
Harlan stopped at the inn door and looked back toward Jake, "Did you just learn to walk, boy?" Jake rolled his eyesand thought, Oh no, not another one… Gareth chuckled, "Yes, he did, and it's me who taught him." Both men laughed as they entered the building. Jake put his head in his hands, then he looked back; running away seemed very appealing right now. With a last sigh, he crossed the threshold, bracing for the continuous teasing from the older warriors.
Harlan went to his table and sat in his chair. He invited Jake and Gareth to choose a seat. Then he looked toward the bartender and said, "Two beers and one milk." Gareth chuckled. Jake clenched his fist, trying to push the anger down. Don't show them it affects you. The three drinks were set on the table. A beer tankard was noisily set in front of him. He looked up, surprised at the one-armed titan, whose grey eyes winked. Then Harlan put the milk cup in front of Gareth, "Milk, good for your bones." Gareth's chuckle died instantly, his fist pounded the table once, and some milk was spilled. "I remember now there was also something else I wanted to do with you." Harlan cracked his neck. "Sure, we will get to it, but drink up first." His tone was gentle. Jake was hiding his grin and his laugh behind his tankard as best as he could.
Gareth finished his milk quickly. Then slammed the glass on the table. "Can I have a beer now?" Harlan smiled wickedly, "If you can land a hit on me, sure." Jake froze mid-way to take a sip from his tankard. He expected some conversation with voice before it was the turn of the fists. He shook his head. Warriors… Gareth was already walking toward the door, removing his shirt as he went, showing his muscular chest and the crisscrossing scars. Harlan yawned and then got up too. He glanced at the young man, "Come and see, you'll surely learn something."