Chapter 128: Finally

Stint sat against the back wall of the camp, awkwardly dry-washing his hands as he watched the casual activities of those who’d remained behind. He felt incredibly out of place. Everyone here acted like they were awakened, for all that they said they weren’t. He couldn’t understand it. Even being awakened himself, he was always jumping at shadows—literally, for shadows were dangerous. These people, on the other hand, seemed perfectly at ease. It was almost like they’d forgotten they were in a ranked zone, just as they’d forgotten about him.

Rain had only had time for a cursory conversation after Stint had recovered. He hadn’t even stopped by to check on him this morning, and then he’d left. He’d been gone most of the day, along with everyone else Stint knew. Those few people he had interacted with since then had been pleasant enough, but they clearly considered him an outsider. Mostly, they just left him to his rest. His body had been overly-sensitive after the healing, with even the slightest pressure feeling like the impact of a fist. He was healed, though. He could leave. Even the sensitivity had mostly faded at this point.

Stint shook his head. He wasn’t sure if he actually wanted to leave. Compared to the drafty barn where he’d been staying, this camp was practically luxury. They had strong walls for keeping the monsters at bay, bright, steady light from those bulb-things, and even warm furs for sleeping. The only thing that would have drawn him back to his barn would have been the need to feed and stable Dust, but Dust, well…

Stint’s eyes flicked to his horse. The animal was trotting swiftly after the merchant’s daughter, Ava, who was laughing as she led him in a merry chase. Had that been all, Stint wouldn’t have thought it odd in the slightest. No, the truly bizarre part was that Ava was on fire.

Whatever spell the little girl was using, it had cloaked her in swirling flames that didn’t burn her dress but would easily ignite anything she came into contact with. It had already happened once, and rather than someone putting a stop to it then and there, people were encouraging her to continue, though with warnings to stay away from anything important. The dangerous game of chase between flaming child and idiot horse was being treated as entertainment.

By all rights, Dust should have been running away from the giggling embodiment of bad parenting, not toward it, but that wasn’t what was happening. The sheer absurdity of the scene had Stint questioning whether there were some psychological aftereffects of healing that nobody had told him about.

He turned his head, glancing at the two men with the matching high-collared cloaks, one white, one black. They were sitting and arguing with each other in some foreign language at a table covered in a jumble of delicate-looking equipment. The subject of the argument appeared to be a thick blue liquid, boiling in a glass flask between them despite the lack of any apparent heat source. As Stint watched, the one wearing the white jacket looked under the table, then spoke in common, loud enough for Stint to hear.

“Cloud, be a good boy and fetch me the lime powder.”

The table rocked as an enormous fluffy dog squeezed out from underneath, and both men hurriedly moved to secure the equipment before any of it toppled over. The dog stretched into a low bow, then walked over to one of the sleds and poked its head inside. After rooting around for a minute, it pulled itself free, holding a small leather sack in its mouth. It trotted back over to the two men and dropped the bag into the white-jacketed man’s hand, receiving a treat from his pocket as compensation. With a happy chuff, the dog sat, tongue lolling as it watched the two men resume their argument. Its head was swiveling from one to the other as they spoke, almost as if it was following the conversation.

Stint rubbed at his eyes, then looked at the dirt by his feet. I am definitely losing it.

“Party returning!”

The sudden cry brought Stint’s head back up sharply. One of the sentries atop the wall was pointing into the distance.

Ava’s flaming cloak winked out. “Daddy!” She shouted, running for the tunnel that had been punched through one of the walls. The damn horse kept following her.

Things dissolved into mild chaos as the returning members milled about the entrance, obscuring his view of the mechanical contraption—the forgewagon, he’d learned it was called—that was following them through the tunnel. The passage through the enormous earthen walls was barely large enough to accommodate it. Stint shook his head, then hurriedly got to his feet. He needed to speak to Rain.

By the time he made it through the crowd, however, there was a problem. Rain wasn’t in much of a state for talking. Stint found him lying on the ground next to the forgewagon, gasping for breath, a discarded waterskin lying next to his hand. He would have feared that the man had been poisoned if not for the lack of concern from the group surrounding him.

Stint looked around, then squeezed through the press until he was standing next to a person he knew. Cautiously, he cleared his throat. “Excuse me, uh, Tallheart?”

Tallheart’s antlered head pivoted to look at him, and Stint froze at the stony expression on the man’s face. He was acutely aware that the cervidian was strong enough to crush him like a bug.

“Sorry,” Stint managed, then gestured to Rain. “What’s going on?”

After a pause, as if considering whether to respond at all, Tallheart spoke slowly. “Rain pushed himself too hard.”

“Pushed himself?” Stint asked. He looked at Rain, then at the forgewagon, seeing that the bed was loaded with rocks in addition to the large tank and anvil that had been there before. He turned his head to Tallheart again. “Doesn’t it move using magic?”

“No magic,” Rain gasped, sitting up. “Just legs.” He panted, then shifted his head to sit between his knees. His voice was muffled as he continued. “Owww. Legs. Just…need a minute.”

Stint blinked, then looked at the vehicle again. No magic?Impossible. You’d need like four horses to pull that thing. He looked back at Tallheart. Then again…

“Rain,” Tallheart rumbled. “I do not see Ameliah.”

Rain looked up, then around. “Vanna,” he said, his eyes settling onto the company’s second in command. “Have you seen Ameliah today?”

Vanna shook her head. “We assumed she was with you.”

Rain shook his head, still breathing heavily. He pushed himself back to his feet, wobbling unsteadily. “We need to find her. Did anyone talk to her last night? Did she say where she was going?”

There was some muttering from the crowd but only shrugs by way of answer.

“What about you, Stint?” Rain asked, his eyes picking him out of the crowd. “Did she check on you this morning?”

“I…uh. No,” Stint said, suddenly aware that everyone was looking at him. “She, uh. She said yesterday that…I just needed rest.”

“Damn,” Rain swore. “What’s she up to?”

“Um, Rain. I need to talk to you,” Stint said, glancing at the man with the clipboard—Tarny, Stint thought his name was—who was standing nearby with an impatient look on his face.

“What about?” Rain asked distractedly. The crowd was slowly breaking up as people moved further into the camp.

“I, uh—” Stint began, but Vanna interrupted him.

“Sorry,” she said, laying a hand on Stint’s shoulder. “Can this wait? I need to talk to you too, Rain.”

“I want to join!” Stint shouted, clenching his fists. His eyes widened. He’d realized both what he’d said, and also that he’d meant it.

Vanna raised an eyebrow as she turned to look at him, her hand still on his shoulder. She gave him a scrutinizing look.

Stint flinched away, only now realizing just who had been touching him. Mercifully, she released him. Stint didn’t know much about Vanna, other than that she was awakened. As second in command, he assumed that she’d be monstrously strong. Much stronger than him.

What the hells am I thinking? These people are insane! I just run away and shoot arrows. They’re really going to let me join?

“What do you think, Rain?” Vanna asked, still staring at Stint with a calculating expression.

Rain chuckled. “I don’t see why not. No need for the test, Vanna. He’s cool. I traveled with him for almost a week before, and he didn’t set off any red flags.”

…Cool?

“Okay then,” Vanna said. She snapped her fingers, then waved to a man sitting at a table near the wall, raising her voice slightly. “Romer,” she called. “Bring over a copy of the codes, please! And a cloak!”

“A cloak?” The man—Romer—called back, not getting up.

“We’ve got a new recruit,” Vanna said.

“Ah,” Romer said. He raised his arms helplessly. “Sorry, I can’t move right now. Nibs has me pinned.” He gestured to his lap. Through the crowd, Stint saw a contented tabby cat sitting there.

“I’ve got it,” said Tarny. He passed the clipboard to Vanna before heading in the direction of the man with the cat.

“Thanks, Tarny,” Vanna said as he walked away. “Okay, Rain, I’ve been thinking about our equipment. I’ve worked out a deal with the mayor to get us access to some…”

Stint wasn’t listening. He watched Tarny retrieve a stack of papers from Romer, then walk off in the direction of the storeroom.

That’s…it? I can join? Should I go with him, or—?

A heavy hand on his shoulder made him jump, along with a deep, bass rumble.

“Human,” Tallheart said.

It was all Stint could do not to run as he looked up at him.

“Do you know what Ascension is?” Tallheart asked. “What it means?”

“Uh…” Stint said. He licked his lips. “You’re…mercenaries?”

“No,” Tallheart said. “We are more than that. Rain and Vanna may decide who is allowed to join, but we all decide who is allowed to stay.”

“I…” Stint said, his knees feeling weak, but whatever he was going to say got cut off by a shout from the direction of the storeroom.

“Rain!”

Tarny was running toward them, holding up a white cloak. It was dappled with the same pattern as all the others, but the make was different. It was heavier and appeared to be lined with fur of some type.

“Oh no…” Rain said, sounding devastated. “That’s—”

“Ameliah’s,” Tallheart said. Stint gasped as the cervidian tightened his grip on his shoulder before he abruptly released him. “She is gone.”

The city’s fires blazed against the darkness below Ameliah’s feet, but she wasn’t looking at them. Her focus was on a steadier patch of light, just nearby. The camp was quiet, though monsters moved in the darkness around the walls. It was late enough in the night that the bodies of fallen monsters blanketed the ground more heavily than snow. The defenders would be watching from atop the wall, not actively attacking unless something threatened to climb over. Remaining quiet so the company could sleep was arguably more important than the additional Tel that could be earned by striking out into the darkness.

Ameliah hesitated. All she had to do was fly down there and join them. She could say that she’d left on an extended scouting mission or that she’d found some tracks and followed them. Any number of excuses were open to her. They probably haven’t even noticed the cloak yet…n/o/vel/b//in dot c//om

A sinking feeling washed over Ameliah, unrelated to the churning of her mind. It was merely a warning that Flight was about to expire. She re-cast it with a thought, not bothering with the chant. She promised herself that by the time it expired again, she’d be ready. Then, she shook her head slowly, acknowledging that she’d made this same promise twice already.

I’m…afraid.

She clenched her fists, then began falling toward the light. It’s already too late. I’m attached. To them…and to him. There’s no sense in denying it any longer. The only thing I can do now is try my hardest. I can’t lose anyone. Not again.

A sudden light from below brought Ameliah to a stop. The expanding shell of white was immediately recognizable. Purify, pushed well beyond the bounds of reason. She blinked, watching as Rain dropped from the wall and to the now-cleared ground, carrying a torch. He walked calmly out into the darkness, Ameliah’s eyes widening as she recognized the shrouded form of the monster that waited for him there.

The Fungiform Stumper roared, and Rain abandoned his casual pace. He shouted back in challenge as he lurched into the darkness, feet hastened by Velocity. He tore his longsword from the scabbard belted at his hip, then raised the blade out to his side. The bare steel glinted, reflecting the dancing flames of the torch he held in his other hand.

First Sparrow: Darting Pass

The blade wasn’t enchanted, but it nevertheless left a shallow gash in the monster’s tough flesh as Rain slipped past its clumsy strike. Tallheart had reforged the company’s swords into the pinnacle of what could be achieved without magical enhancement, and with the ring, Rain was stronger than any human had a right to be.

He skidded to a stop, dropping the torch and bringing his other hand up to the sword’s hilt as he planted his feet.

First Sparrow: Whirling Feather

The blade practically sang as it whipped through the air, following the movement Samson had taught him. The man would have admonished Rain for calling the move by its stylized name, but Rain didn’t care. His bones rattled from the rebound as the blade crashed into the Stumper’s back, the edge improperly aligned. He managed to avoid dropping the weapon as he recovered, then skipped back as the Stumper’s fist slammed into the ground where he’d been standing moments before.

Rain flared Velocity, then whipped the sword down, not in any form that Samson had taught him, but as a man splitting wood. The Stumper bellowed as the blade cleaved into it, cutting deep into the flesh of its arm and dealing roughly five hundred points of damage, judging from the drop in its health bar.

Not bad. A twentieth of its health down, most of it in that last hit.

The blade was almost pulled from Rain’s grip as the monster retracted its arm, but the sword slipped free before Rain was lifted from the ground. Orange light glowed from the spots on the Stumper’s cap, and Rain smiled a vicious smile, switching to Immolate.

He didn’t hold back.

Crimson light flared from both his armor and his sword. The monster released its toxic spores, and within moments, an explosion rocked the night, pressing back the darkness with a colossal whump of detonation. Rain let the heat wash over him, closing his eyes against the light as he briefly pulsed Refrigerate to cool himself down. He got a lungful of toasted spores before he wiped them from the air with Purify, but thanks to the accolade boosting his Chemical resistance, they did less than nothing to him.

The Stumper roared again, swiping blindly and coming nowhere close to hitting him. He was already gone. It had lost another good chunk of health, both from Immolate and from the secondary explosion. Raising the sword out to his side again, Rain activated Velocity, then charged.

First Sparrow: Darting Pass

The Stumper moved to strike him as he closed the distance, swinging with the other arm this time. Rain dodged easily, anticipating the path of its strike. It was no different from the first exchange, simply mirrored. The monster was following its instinctual patterns like an automaton, and Rain was going to exploit that for all he was worth. His blade tracked a line on the monster’s left side, slightly deeper than the one he’d left on its right, and he brought his other hand up to the hilt once more.

First Sparrow: Whirling Feather

This time, his alignment was perfect. The sword cut through the monster’s spongy flesh like water as it split its back wide open. Rain completed the motion, dodged the anticipated counterstrike, then chopped downward again onto its arm.

Orange light flickered.

Crimson light countered.

Three more times, Rain repeated the pattern before his sword was too bent to continue. The steel, fine as it was, simply couldn’t hold up to the combination of his unnatural strength, magically enhanced speed, and amateur technique. He tossed it aside, then clenched his fists. His armor was stronger. He had all of the weapons he needed.

The torch on the ground flickered weakly. The repeated exposure to Immolate had burned through the life of the magical chemical that it used as fuel. Rain ignored it. He knew what the monster would do. How it would react. Even if the torch died, he didn’t need to see.

Velocity-enhanced punch after Velocity-enhanced punch crashed into the Stumper, shaving off a point or two of Rain’s own health with each impact as it was transmitted back through his fragile bones. He didn’t care. It was simply more training for his Endurance. The monster was slowing down, perhaps weakened by the lack of essence on the surface, or perhaps after depleting its stamina. Likely both.

Rain stopped using Immolate, countering merely with Purify, lest he actually set it on fire now that its health was getting lower. There was no call to rob Tallheart of breakfast tomorrow. Still, the fight continued, requiring every ounce of his focus. He couldn’t afford to be hit, not even once, even though he would likely survive it.

Rain was panting heavily by the time the ding sounded in his head, signaling the monster’s death. His muscles were trembling with exertion as he stood atop the slashed, singed, and crushed remains of the enormous mushroom man. He was covered in the thick fluid that served as the monster’s blood. He hadn’t needed to use Purify after it had run out of the mana it required to use its spores.

Rain closed his eyes, then took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He turned, then spoke a single word.

“Ameliah.”

She walked forward out of the darkness and into the feeble light of the failing torch, a guilt-ridden expression on her face. Detection had picked her up toward the end of the fight when both he and the Stumper had been near their limits. Rain hadn’t been so focused on working through his issues that he’d forgotten to monitor for other threats. He was outside the walls, after all.

Despite his focus, the distraction of Ameliah’s arrival had almost gotten him punted over the treetops. He’d needed to force himself to push past his surprise and finish what he’d started, lest he make a mistake. Ameliah hadn’t stepped in to help, and the initial elation that he’d felt at her appearance hadn’t survived the grinding of his thoughts as he’d mechanically finished the battle.

Now, there was only a trace of it left. The hollowness had returned. The hurt. The abandonment.

“Rain,” Ameliah said, looking up at him. “You’re a mess.”

“You left,” Rain said, looking at the brown fabric of her traveling clothes. He clenched his hands as he panted, the pain of his bruised knuckles hot inside his gauntlets. We needed her. She didn’t even say goodbye.

“Yes.”

Rain worked to regain control of his breathing. When he finally spoke, his voice was cold with accusation. “Why?”

Ameliah looked away. “Because I’m a mess too.”

The stabbing pain in Rain’s chest faded, rapidly replaced by sudden guilt of his own. He knew why she’d left. He’d known it might happen. She’d literally told him.

Carefully, Rain climbed down from the Stumper’s remains, switching to Purify to clean himself off. He removed his helmet, then let it drop from his aching fingers. He stopped about a meter away from her and waited, struggling to think of what to say.

Finally, Ameliah looked back up at him and opened her mouth, as if to offer some further explanation.

Rain stopped her with a tiny shake of his head, then spoke. “I’m sorry. You don’t need to explain. It’s just…” He trailed off. She came back. That’s all that matters. Rain smiled. “I missed you.”

Ameliah snorted, brushing a strand of blond hair away from her face.

And then, she was hugging him.

Rain froze, holding his arms out to the side in awkward surprise.

“Hug me back, idiot,” Ameliah said after a moment. Rain blinked, then wrapped his arms around her. His heart was suddenly racing even faster than it had during the fight.

“Stupid armor,” Ameliah said, pressing her neck against his. “It’s like hugging a rock.”

Rain laughed, relaxing slightly to allow her to pull away if she wanted. Instead, she squeezed him even tighter, speaking softly. “I missed you too.”

Rain’s heart practically leapt out of his chest. “Ameliah—” he began, but she shushed him.

“Shh. Wait for it.”

“Wait for what?”

A loud whistle pierced the darkness, and Rain spotted Carten standing atop the wall and waving at them.

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” He began chanting, pumping his fist.

“There it is,” Ameliah said, giving Rain a playful squeeze that made his armor creak. Still, she didn’t pull away as she loosened her grip slightly. Rain’s face felt like it was on fire as a few other voices joined Carten’s, taking up the chant. His mouth was dry as Ameliah finally pushed him to arm’s length. Her cheeks were flushed with embarrassment, but she was smiling playfully.

She’s so beautiful… Rain shook himself as the chant continued. “I…can I…?” he stammered. “Would it be okay if…?”

Ameliah tilted her head as if considering. After an intolerable moment, she nodded, almost to herself. “Yes.” Before Rain could work up the courage to do anything, her lips found his all on their own.

“OOAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” Carten roared in the distance.

Various other whoops and whistles came from the camp’s direction, but Rain didn’t register any of it, consumed by the softness of Ameliah’s mouth against his.

Ameliah ended the kiss quickly, pulling back to stare into his eyes, leaving Rain feeling like he’d been punted by the Stumper after all.

She laughed as she saw his stunned expression. “Did I break you?”

Rain blinked, then smiled and, without hesitation, moved forward. Their lips met again, and the world faded away once more.