Chapter 2: Talentless - Chapter 2

Rayden watched with interest as the shy boy tailing the mayor obediently stepped forward. His dirty and calloused hands were trembling, and his eyes were glued to the floor. Rayden assumed he was a smith’s apprentice based on the garb and grime, but he currently looked more like a hostage than anything.

“I know it sounds ridiculous, sir,” the wide-eyed boy said. “But…I saw a gate. A real one. It…it had to be.”

Rayden was skeptical, but the kid looked earnest enough.

“Explain, please.”

The scared lad bobbed his head, then finally looked up, revealing brown eyes that were raw and red. He pointed at the map in Rayden’s hands.

“Can I see that real quick, sir?”

“Sure.”

The boy gingerly took the map, then pointed a finger just west of where the goblins were marked.

“There’s a hill right here, where my girl and I used to…”

The kid trailed off, looking as if he was about to burst into tears.

“You can say fuck, young man,” Boh interrupted, completely misreading the situation. “We ain’t prudes, and no lad or lass should be ashamed of a little copulation.”

Quill and Ivy looked like they wanted to strangle the dwarf, but the sullen boy didn’t react at all, not even to crack a smile.

“I was going to say picnic, but…s-s-she died.”

“Oh. Sorry, lad.”

“Over the hill, there’s a patch of the greenest grass I’ve ever seen,” the boy continued. “It only grew in the last couple of months, as far as I know. A few wild flowers bloomed, and Florence loved those. We were picking a few of them when it happened.”

The mayor put a hand on Rick’s shoulder and sighed.

“You have to understand that even the appearance of flowers is a minor miracle for us bootdwellers. We don’t get fertile soil here, just a barren rocky hellscape as far as the eye can see. Ah, I love my town!”

“Deflowering a young lass as the first spring blooms,” Boh whispered just within Rayden’s hearing. “A serf’s love story. Too bad.”

Ivy and Quill both slapped the brash dwarf on the back, while Rayden had to work hard to conceal a smile.

“I understand, Mayor,” Rayden said with the most serious nod he could manage. “I’ve been down the Boot before and spent most of my life along the Rim. I know the hardship, and I know the unforgiving land.”

He truly did, having spent the last ten years of his life doing odd jobs in the most destitute areas of Sepith, spanning the gamut from killing monsters that escaped the Feral Lands to helping towns negotiate with the minor lords and guilds trying to exploit them. The poor quality of land made it extremely hard for places like Penrith to ever become self-sufficient.

Rayden motioned to the smith’s apprentice with a gentle expression.

“Please continue, Rick.”

The boy rubbed his eyes for a few more seconds, but eventually cooperated.

“When we were picking flowers, Florence noticed something. It was a big rectangle like a door, except…reflective? It was nearly see-through, but you could see it flicker in the light, sir.”

“What color was it?” Rayden asked.

“Gray, I think. Or at least, it caught the sunlight that way. Once you noticed it, it was impossible to miss. I swear, sir.”

“I see…I believe you, Rick.”

He wasn’t sure that he did yet, but there was no harm in appeasing the kid, and his interest was piqued. Based on his companions’ expressions, they were also intrigued, and for good reason. The timid boy had just accurately described the most heavily regulated asset in Septih, a gray dungeon gate. If it truly existed, they had been handed an incredible opportunity.

However, it would also be one hell of an outlier, which meant there had to be an equally extraordinary reason for its existence. A happenstance like that in Penrith, of all places, was ominous at best.

“We were taken aback,” Rick continued. “Just standing there watching it for a bit…until a little green bastard with a spear just popped right out. Three more followed, then the two of us were running for our lives.”

The kid’s face darkened, and his eyes turned hollow and cold.

“I didn’t even see her trip...turned around when I heard the screams, just in time to glimpse them turning her into a pin cushion. The little bastards were gleeful about it.”

The Mayor put a hand on the kid’s trembling shoulder, but Rick didn’t even seem to notice. He just kept looking at Rayden, searching for something. Validation, maybe, admonishment perhaps?

“I just ran. I don’t know why I didn’t help. I was scared, I guess. I almost wish I could’ve died with her, at least knowing I had the guts to…”

As the boy trailed off into his misery, Rayden couldn’t help but be reminded of his younger self. He understood the feeling of survivor’s guilt, even if his situation had been very different. He remembered hating the way his uncle pitied him, stepping carefully around his grief but never addressing it personally, afraid of what an Attuned child could do in a fit of rage.

“You’re a smith, right?” Rayden asked, banishing the memory.

“Aye.”

“Good. Then I’d say you’re better off serving your village than dead,” he gently pointed out. “But if you have a dagger handy, lend me it. I’ll get revenge with the weapon you’ve made, in your name.”

Before the boy could respond, Boh surprised everyone by stepping forward and firmly gripping the smith’s shoulder.

“Rayden is right, lad. Tell you what, I’m a smith myself. After we take out those little mean fuckers, how about I show you some tips over a pint of ale?”

Rayden was legitimately moved by the gesture until he heard Quill whisper, “Great, he’s going to turn a traumatized young boy into a lifelong alcoholic.”

He grinned at the redhead, who gave him a wink in return. Rick, on the other hand, seemed to appreciate their combined gestures. A little color returned to his cheeks as he looked up at them.

“Thank you, sirs,” Rick said, with a slight bow. “I’ll get you that dagger, Mr. Rayden, and I’d love to ply my trade with a dwarf master.”

“Thatta boy!” Boh cheered, slapping him on the back. “That’s exactly what I am, the dwarf master of tinkering and drink-er-ing.”

Rayden gave the kid an encouraging pat as well, then turned back to Lauryn and Rhubarb. It was time to go see exactly what was going on in this backwoods shanty-town.

“I think we have all the information we need. The goblins we’ll deal with, that's a guarantee. However, the gate…I suspect we’ll need to investigate. I hope that sounds reasonable?”

“Definitely,” the mayor smiled, then rummaged through his pockets and pulled out a small bag of coins.

“Save it,” Rayden halted, not even bothering to count what was inside. “Pay us when we return.”

Unauthorized tale usage: if you spot this story on Amazon, report the violation.

The Mayor’s bushy eyebrows leaped atop his head as if he’d never encountered generosity before, which wasn’t surprising out here. His expression was enough to calm Rayden’s thoughts of putting whatever baron presided over this town to the gallows.

“Good lad! We’ll do it your way then.”

Rayden smiled back politely, then winced, looking around at his companions. He really should have run that by them. Luckily, they didn’t seem to mind at all. Quill even looked like she was going to the same if he hadn’t. He made a mental note to think a little more highly of all of them; not making a fuss about pay was a rare occurrence, anywhere in this poor excuse for a kingdom.

“Let’s go grab that dagger,” Rayden said to Rick. “Then we’ll be off.”

***

A mile east of the village, their party arrived at a rocky knob covered in patches of sickly brown grass. It was like all of the land out here, except taller and more weathered. This “barren hellscape”, as the mayor had called it, had been caused by the kingdom’s powerful Siphoners a few decades back. The mana-hungry superhumans had picked the Boot dry of its magic lifeblood, leaving nothing but arid land and hard living.

Rayden wished he could do something to change that, but as an Attuned without a Talent, he was like a buzzing fly the powers of Sepith could swat whenever they pleased. Common men stood no chance against him unless they attacked in scores, but any noble worth noting would have a Knight on retainer, who could obliterate him before he could blink.

Such was life.

Flipping the smith’s adequately made dagger in his hand, he rationalized that jobs like this were his best chance at making a difference for the people who needed it. Rayden knew there was real truth in that, but couldn’t shake the feeling that his younger self would have been disappointed.

What happened to the vows you made, coward?

He didn’t begrudge his younger self for feeling that way, but truthfully, the most violent of his promises had been worn down by age. Yet, it was hard not to wonder if a legitimate and undiscovered gray gate could change things, reigniting the spark he believed dead.

Rayden sighed, looking up at the fading blue sky above for any sign of guidance. There was nothing but a few clouds in the vast expanse. However, he did notice that the early evening was fast approaching, and the sun would soon give way to the first of five moons. The cover of dusk was arriving just in time for their assault.

“Have you noticed?” Ivy suddenly asked, making everyone stop in their tracks.

Rayden had forgotten the woman could speak. Boh looked equally shocked, but both Quill and Jim seemed to have an inkling of the tall warrior’s intimation.

“Mhmm,” the former nodded, pursing her lips as she raised a finger. “The mana here is denser than expected, yes?”

Jim abruptly walked into the center of their group, moved into a lunge position, and began to stretch dramatically, baffling them all.

“Ah, so that’s why I feel so limber! Wow, quite the astute observation, ladies. I’m impressed!”

Both women looked at him the way a gardener would look at an unexpected weed. Rayden wasn’t sure if the man was just playing a character, or truly this whimsical and impulsive.

“Aye, you’re right,” Boh nodded as he waggled the flagon on his hip. “I would have noticed sooner if I hadn’t been drinking, story of my life. Guess that explains the damned flowers. How else would they have sprouted up in this hell?”

Jim nodded exuberantly, still exercising in front of them.

“Righto Boh, I believe you’ve bonked the nail on its mana-dense head.”

Embarrassed that he hadn’t noticed, Rayden began cycling mana throughout his body, sending it from the origin point in his chest outwards. It wasn’t a strenuous exercise for him these days, but even with years of experience, he had never made it flow as smoothly as it did now. He burned just a little of it, empowering his legs as he stood in place. Seconds later, a trickle of mana returned to his chest more steadily than expected.

Holy fuck. How is this possible?

This density was considered normal in some places, maybe even weak for a noble’s house or the capital cities of Sepith, but should be impossible for this to occur in the Siphoned wastes of the Boot. It was Rayden’s first time experiencing the phenomenon, but he was more scared than elated.

The only possible explanation was that something or somebody was dumping mana back into the area, and that was a very scary supposition. There was no way the kingdom would sanction this, not out here. The culprit had to be unfathomably strong or unusually bold, perhaps, both.

“What the fuck is going on?” He mumbled to himself before turning to the others.

“Aye,” Boh echoed. “What in a Duke’s shriveled left nut is this much mana doing out here?”

“Interesting phrase, Boh,” Jim interrupted. “May I inquire as to what that implies about the Duke’s right nut?”

Boh glared at the dandy instead of answering while Quill leaned on her staff, biting her lip in thought.

“It is odd…and most of the implications I can think up are troubling at best.”

“Agreed,” Ivy said calmly. “It is concerning, but let's focus. Goblins first.”

As the stoic woman looked them up and down, Rayden noticed her gaze intensify when it passed him by, as if she was curious what he would do. That was strange, but he agreed with her plan of action, and they were running out of time if they wanted to strike at dusk.

“Works for me,” he replied, and the others nodded in turn. “I’m going to head up the hill and see if I can snipe a goblin or two while the rest of you go around. Anyone wanna come with me?”

Unexpectedly, Jim raised his hand. Rayden arched an eyebrow, seeing that the man had no visible weapon beyond a sword on his hip, but he supposed it was unwise to judge a book by its gaudy cover.

“Sure...um, do you only use a sword?”

“Rayden, my friend, I am what the people call a marksman,” Jim smiled, pulling up his sleeve to unveil a small but elegant hand crossbow.

It was made of ebony wood and decorated with intricate silver engravings, an absolute masterpiece that Rayden would guess was worth more than everything their entire group was wearing, besides Ivy’s gauntlets.

“I've been told by many adoring ladies and lads that I’m quite skilled with a bolt in my hands,” Jim continued with a suggestive wink.

“Gross,” Quill sniffed.

“You swinging both ways isn’t one bit surprising,” Boh chortled. “But an elf stickman? Now that’s a lie if I ever heard one.”

“I suppose you wouldn’t allow me to test my prowess on you, my wily, diminutive friend?”

The dwarf spat in disgust.

“I’d sooner quit drinking!”

Rayden felt a small pang of pity, but laughed anyway, before giving his comrades one final look.

“Everybody ready?”

After confirming, Jim and Rayden made their way up the barren hill, falling into a low crouch as they approached the edge. The smell of burning meat wafted in by the time they were halfway. It was appetizing, until Rayden remembered who it had likely belonged to.

Shifting into a crawl at the top of the hill, Rayden could make out nearly ten goblins sitting around a fire, surrounded by a shoddy encampment of half-finished shacks. One of them was using the blade of a makeshift shovel to mark the ground in front of the fire.

“Why, it's a genuine goblin gathering,” Jim chuckled to himself.

Ignoring the eccentric man, Rayden channeled a burst of mana to his eyes and let it burn, temporarily enhancing his vision. He was just in time to witness the goblin finish drawing a human stick figure. The little green bastard cheerfully waved his tool for a few moments, then started fervently chopping up the crude depiction as the other goblins laughed uproariously.

“Huh,” Rayden chuckled. “Looks fun.”

Once the image was destroyed, another goblin stood up and took the shovel. This fellow, in a stroke of goblin brilliance, drew a whole family of human stick figures—then gleefully tore them apart. His compatriots laughed as if it were the greatest comedy their pea brains had ever witnessed.

“I think we’ve got the gist now, right, Rayden?” Jim joked as a third goblin took his turn with the shovel. “I suspect a village of humans is next, followed by a kingdom, then…”

A puzzled look emerged on the boulevardier’s handsome face.

“Hmm, I’d be curious to learn more about the way they perceive your human society. Perhaps we could learn from them.”

“Me too,” Rayden lied. “Let’s see if we can scope the gate, then I’m ready.”

The two of them scanned the rocky valley below, but even with mana, it was difficult to see in the fading glow of dusk. He could make out his companions getting into position behind the rocks and shrubs surrounding the camp, but little else. Just as Rayden was about to give up, Jim tapped him on the shoulder and pointed into the distance.

“Stand up a tad, dear Rayden, then look past the goblins to what I believe is the south.”

Rayden cautiously did as told, following Jim’s finger to an unusually green patch of grass about fifty feet south of the goblin rabble-rousers. The small oasis was dotted with little flecks of colors…those were the flowers, he guessed. Just a little further beyond that was a barely visible disturbance glimmering in the air. It was like a colony of fireflies had formed a door of flickering gray light.

“Fuck me, it’s really here,” he uttered in disbelief. Jim nodded, his expression flashing serious for the first time since Rayden had met the man. “Indeed. Quite the phenomenon…and perhaps, quite the bounty.”

The thought made Rayden squeamish, but he agreed. However, as Ivy astutely pointed out before, it could wait.

For now, they had goblins to cull.

Reaching back into his quiver for an arrow, it suddenly dawned on him that Jim’s crossbow was way too small to be effective from this distance. Even if he was a Controller–someone who manipulated external matter with mana–there’s no way shooting from up here was practical.

“Wait, can you even reach from here with that?”

Jim grinned expectantly, as if he’d been baiting out that very question.

“Don’t worry about me, Rayden. I’m a man of style. You’ll find me well equipped for slaughter.”

Rayden shrugged, deciding that rational questions were wasted on the enigmatic rogue.

He raised his bow, knocked an arrow, and began to cycle mana into his arm. His beat-up weapon wasn’t pretty, but the magically treated wood had been engineered to handle the superhuman strength now seeping into his muscles. Carefully aiming for a goblin’s patchy green skull, he pulled the string back and let fly.