by Pirateaba
“Yeah.”
The [Guardspeople] stared towards the inn, where the music was flooding the wet landscape. On this grey day, it was as if someone had taken the sun and brought it inside. It was as if the light was music and it was flooding out of the inn. One of the Drakes sighed.
“Damn lucky Goblins.”
—-
“Good night! Good night to you all! Don’t get lost on your way back! And don’t fight with each other anymore, okay? Or I’ll come over and kick both your butts!”
Erin said goodbye to the Antinium just before midnight. Her voice was raw and her legs hurt. She wasn’t the only one.
The Goblins had passed out downstairs. Numbtongue, true to his name and past, had practically lost his voice. He could actually sing! And he had taken the guitar. Ishkr had signed off with a hefty overtime bonus, complaining his claws hurt. But he had been smiling.
As for the others? The Halfseekers went to sleep tired, but beaming. None of them had danced with the Goblins, but as they had found there was room in the inn for both of them. The Horns of Hammerad had passed out in their room already. And Mrsha was in her room with Lyonette.
Healing. It was a long process. But if Erin was good at one thing, it was bridging gaps. Between people, in hearts…Yellow Splatters walked slowly back with Purple Smile and thought about all the mistakes he’d made.
Because he’d been wrong. The Antinium needed Erin Solstice more than they needed him. They didn’t need more training. They needed to stare at the sky.
And he had forgotten that. Because…because he’d seen too many of his people. Because he’d forgotten what had made him Individual to begin with. Because he was a fool.
And that knowledge left him quiet and empty. Despair over Twin Stripes crushed him. His failures hung about him. If the music and food had not filled him with hope and happiness, Yellow Splatters might have been lost. As it was, he was simply sad.
He reported back to his barracks and sat for a long time by himself. The other Soldiers had brought gifts for the others. Food from Erin’s inn—still fresh, one of Mrsha’s balls she’d given them to throw around, and even a small keg. The Soldiers mainly just stared at that since they’d forgotten to bring bowls.
As for Yellow Splatters? He looked at Purple Smile and thought the other Soldier would be a good [Sergeant]. And he wondered if he could be one as well. He looked around the barracks, at the sparring area, and then at a space that had never really been used.
A few pieces of carefully-bound paper sat in a corner. Just ink and paper. But Pawn had seen the value in them. Yellow Splatters went over, and, with many Soldiers watching him furtively, sat down and picked up a book clumsily.
It was very hard to turn the pages, and the lighting wasn’t good. When Yellow Splatters got the first page open he saw there was a Drake child on the page. A Drake child with a magic sword.
He had no name. The book had no words. It was just pictures. But there was a story there. Yellow Splatters read the book slowly, turning the pages laboriously, but caught up in the little Drake’s story.
He had a sword. A magic sword, surely, because when he found it, it glowed. And it slew a Mothbear, a Wyvern, a horde of undead, and then it carried him into the sky to fight a Giant on a mountain. The Drake became a hero. He had friends. He led an army. And then they crowned him as he sat in a city he had built.
It was a simple story. A simple story for a child, with no real moral other than that magic swords were amazing, and that slaying monsters was good. But it was the first one Yellow Splatters had ever read. And it was magic.
When the Soldier looked up from the book, he found he was not alone. Someone sat across from him. Pawn. The Worker looked tired, but smiled as Yellow Splatters froze and looked at him.
“I did not want to disturb you from your reading. Forgive me. I did not see you at the front as usual so I grew worried.”
The front? But that was in—Yellow Splatters checked his internal clocked and realized it was long past dawn. Morning, in fact. He’d read the book for—he shot to his feet in a sudden panic. The fighting! The monsters!
He’d abandoned his post. He would have run towards the front had Pawn not caught him.
“Be calm, Yellow Splatters. There is no need for fighting today. Hopefully…not tomorrow or much at all.”
What? Yellow Splatters stared at Pawn uncomprehendingly. The Worker nodded.
“It will be easier to show you. Come.”
He took the [Sergeant] down the tunnels, past groups of Soldiers who did not march to their deaths but rather wandering around, looking confused. Yellow Splatters arrived at the place where they normally fought and found something else in its place.
A barricade of stone and dirt. High walls—intersecting tunnels filled with disguised pits filled with spikes, tunnels designed to collapse once triggered. And wide areas designed to funnel monsters into each other so they would kill each other. Belgrade was explaining all of this at length to Klbkch and Purple Smile when Yellow Splatters arrived.
“You see, it takes advantage of the dungeons’ radius. Monsters will pass by this point and into this room and begin to attack each other. We have set it up so monsters will arrive at roughly the same time. After they have reduced each other’s numbers, we have many, many trapped tunnels which they will be forced to travel through. And if they survive that—”
“A kill zone.”
Klbkch studied the final room, in which rows of Workers stood. Workers, not Soldiers. There were Soldiers at the ready, but they had yet to fight today. Instead, the Workers were armed with the Antinium’s crude bows and arrows. They stood behind battlements that had been constructed to let them fire behind shelter, and they had slaughtered the few monsters that had made it to their position with massed volleys. Belgrade nodded proudly.
“Pawn has long said this and both Anand and I agree. It is time for Workers to take charge of defending the Hive as much as Soldiers do. Moreover, we need an archery-based unit. Thus, we have found those Individual and regular Workers who seem to have an aptitude for aiming and equipped them. You will note in the budget report I sent that I am requesting better bows and arrows.”
The Revalantor flicked through several pages of parchment and nodded.
“I see. And your prediction?”
“Over 86% reduction in casualties taken and a greatly reduced need for constant combat. True, the material costs rise by a small margin, but this would allow our Hive to allocate resources and bodies—”
“Yes. I see. Am I to understand this was your undertaking, Belgrade?”
Yellow Splatters stared at the [Tactician]. Belgrade nodded as Anand walked over, munching on an apple. Purple Smile must have offered it to him.
“That is correct, Revalantor Klbkch. Recently, my acquired Skills have shifted in nature. Both Anand and I have received Skills, but while his pertain to rapid movement and assaults, I have obtained Skills suitable for static defenses. My two latest Skills—obtained from reaching Level 20—are [Simple Trap Construction] and [Basic Fortification Construction].”
“Very useful.”
Anand munched down the rest of his apple. Pawn nodded. He stepped forwards as Klbkch turned to him.
“It is a project all of us have worked on tirelessly, Revalantor Klbkch. Were it not for the Painted Soldiers, we would not have been able to hold the areas around the dungeon’s entrance to construct this defensive network.”
Yellow Splatters and Purple Smile turned to Pawn. Realization flashed between the two and Yellow Splatters trembled inside. Klbkch looked around, clicking his mandibles, seemingly at a loss.
“Very…good. Unexpectedly good. Carry on. I will relay this to the Queen. I do not doubt she will be very…well, good.”
He walked off. The Workers stared at him, and then gathered around to celebrate.
“I think he was impressed.”
“I owe it all to Erin. And you, Pawn. And you, Anand.”
Belgrade seem
ed overjoyed, his antennae trembling with emotion. He spoke, fondling a chess piece on the command table as he did.
“It is as Erin said, every time I despaired of beating you in chess, Anand. Practice can defeat talent. And when I applied that to the real world—preparation and planning will win battles in advance of reactionary tactics. I may not have your gift Anand, but I can contribute to the Hive in my own way.”
“I did not doubt it for a second, Belgrade.”
Anand grasped Belgrade’s shoulder, speaking softly. He indicated the maze of defenses.
“This is beyond me. This is your accomplishment. And the scope of it—you have won battles before I needed to fight them. I believe this understanding is key to what it means to be a [Strategist], and not simply a [Tactician]. That is why you will reach that class first, Belgrade. Be proud of what you have done.”
The Worker quivered in place. Anand hesitated, and them embraced him. The two Workers hugged as the other Antinium looked on. After a second, Belgrade spoke in a more normal voice.
“While I appreciate the gesture and am very emotional Anand, I do not seem to have acquired the ‘warm and fuzzy’ feelings that Erin spoke of.”
Anand let go and nodded.
“Neither do I. Perhaps it is an error in our methods? Our expertise?”
“Let us ask her when we next meet.”
“Yes. For now…I think we have earned a break. Pawn, we shall be sleeping now. You know how to manage the defenses—”
“And I will wake you if needed. Rest, you two. You deserve it.”
Pawn let the two Workers stagger off, and then turned. The two Soldiers stared at him. Pawn nodded.
“We will need a few Painted Soldiers in case of dangerous enemies, but far fewer than before. You two are relieved of duty for now. We will have to find more ways to occupy you two in the future. More patrols perhaps. Or maybe…books.”
He looked at Yellow Splatters as he said that. The [Sergeant] just stood in place. No more fighting? His people wouldn’t die? He was…what a fool he’d been.
Perhaps Pawn sensed it, because he put a hand on Yellow Splatters’ shoulder. And surprisingly, so did Purple Smile.
“I know what you have been going through, Yellow Splatters. And some of the fault is ours. We did not want to speak of what we were doing, should we fail. But we should have told you. As for the rest…I am glad.”
Glad? Yellow Splatters looked at Pawn in astonishment. After all he’d done, after what he’d done. Perhaps it could be forgiven. But Twin Stripes? Never.
Again, Pawn read his mind.
“Come with me. I have one last thing to show you. And this is my accomplishment.”
He led the two Soldiers away, through tunnels, to a new area. A small room had been hollowed out and a door installed. Two Soldiers stood aside as the Worker opened the door. Yellow Spatters froze as he saw Twin Stripes chained to the ground.
“Ah.”
The Aberration Soldier was thrashing. Pawn bowed his head and stepped forwards, but both Yellow Spatters and Purple Smile moved forwards protectively. Twin Stripes was trying to move, trying to get at Yellow Spatters. The [Sergeant] wanted to let him.
But it was Pawn who moved. The Worker walked forwards, heedless of the Aberration struggling in his manacles. He bent, and raised something.
A hand. And in it he held light. Or…was light drawn to his hand? He reached out, and Twin Stripes froze as it touched his head gently.
Two more hands rose. Pawn’s other hands reached out and touched Purple Smile in the chest, and Yellow Splatters on the arm. The Worker’s mandibles opened and he uttered a word.
“Hope.”
It was the simplest of messages. A quiet word, breathed into the silence, spoken with all the sincerity in the world. And with it came forgiveness, peace.
A blessing.
Yellow Splatters jerked, feeling warmth and light entering him. Twin Stripes stopped thrashing and Purple Smile touched his chest as Pawn withdrew his hands. The Worker bent over Twin Stripes and the Soldier looked up. The Soldier, not the Aberration.
“This is my gift. Three times per day I may use [Benediction of Hope] to ease those in need. I think it calms the thoughts. It gives our people hope, a small blessing. And perhaps—understanding. Of what it means to be Individual.”
Yellow Splatters looked at Pawn. He was shaking. He should have been exhausted after being up for over a day. But now he felt fresh. And the despair that had gripped him, the pain and guilt—it was still there. But something else was in him, balancing it out.
Hope.
And he looked down at Twin Stripes and knew the Soldier was back. Slowly, Yellow Splatters bent and freed the Soldier. Twin Stripes got up slowly, and Yellow Splatters bowed his head. The two were silent for a moment before Purple Smile seized both of them up in a hug. The Soldiers struggled, and then went limp. It was not warm and fuzzy at all. But it was…perfect.
Pawn looked at the Soldiers and smiled. He bowed his head.
“Congratulations, [Sergeant] Purple Smile. I think you and Yellow Splatters will be a wonderful team.”
Yellow Splatters looked at Purple Smile as the other Antinium let go. Purple Smile tilted his head to looked at Yellow Splatters, and the [Sergeant] saw the weight of command settle on his shoulders. But that was the thing about Purple Smile. He just brushed the weight off.
And that was the word for it. At last, Yellow Splatters realized what was missing. He looked around. Not leader. Not alone. That wasn’t what he was. At last, he knew. He was one of many. Not the lone leader. He could rely on others.
He had a team. A people. A mission.
A family.
—-
One last thing. In the Wandering Inn, as Erin went back to her kitchen to snore and Lyonette lay in her bed, sleeping in a quieter manner, a small Gnoll sat in her room and listened. She heard only silence.
She had had a big day and she was tired. She had been angry, sad, happy…Mrsha knew she was still in trouble and she still had a lot of being sorry to do. But the music had helped. The food had helped. And Erin…
The words were still in her. She did not have to forgive. And she hadn’t. Mrsha had been afraid, so afraid when she’d gone downstairs. But the Selphid had leaned down and whispered to her, and Moore had smiled and given her a bud that bloomed into a flower in her hands. Mrsha had felt safe with them.
She did not forgive the Goblins. But she had sat in the inn and watched them all day. Not all people were the same. And yet, Mrsha couldn’t forget it was their people who had slaughtered her tribe.
Each time one of them laughed, Mrsha hated all of the Goblins and their entire species. When they smiled, she wished their happiness would go away. It was easy to hate them, then.
It was harder, much harder, to hate them when they cried. When they shed a tear for a sad song that made Mrsha curl up inside, or when they hugged each other and looked around as if they expected there to be others with them. Then it was hard.
Mrsha had gone upstairs, but she could still smell them in the basement. Sleeping. She could even smell they were sleeping. Their scents were one of many in the inn. Only, she’d been focused on them for so long she had forgotten the other ones. Now she could smell Lyonette next to her, comforting, and Pisces in another room, playing with dead bones. And Yvlon—still smelling of fire and burning.
The Goblins were below. Mrsha knew that. She still hated them. And maybe she always would. But she stopped waiting for the moment when they would draw their swords and kill her. Mrsha curled up into a ball and slept.
At some point, Apista crawled out from a mug downstairs and looked around. She had miraculously survived the raucous party simply by the expedient of hiding in the mug and scaring the daylights out of anyone who reached for a drink. She fanned her wings and flew up to the ceiling, where she perched by a windowsill and fanned her wings in the warm sun.
Everyone was sleeping of course. Partying did that to people. As for inse
cts, well, their opinions were less well recorded on the matter. Apista consumed a bit of nectar from the faerie flowers. She might not be a person. But she was happy.
4.43
“I’m going into the city now. Do you want to come or stay?”
The next day, Lyonette was sitting in front of Mrsha, talking to her. The small white Gnoll was chewing on the tip of her wand and looked up curiously at her. Lyonette went on.
“The Horns of Hammerad are resting. Ceria got bit badly on the leg and butt yesterday and no one wants to do much after the party, so the Halfseekers might be here all day too. You can stay with them or come with me. Which is it?”
Mrsha rolled backwards and then slumped onto her side, accidentally jabbing the inside of her mouth with the tip of the wand. She yelped and Lyonette sighed.
“I told you not to play with that! Give it here, Mrsha. You can’t keep—”
The Gnoll scuttled away from Lyonette, holding her wand possessively. She glanced at Lyonette and after a moment, shook her head and pointed to the floor.
“You want to stay here? You’re sure?”
Mrsha hesitated. But then she nodded. Lyonette smiled a bit.
Progress. After yesterday, it seemed like she could leave the inn without Mrsha coming with her. The Gnoll seemed secure if she was around the adventurers, especially Jelaqua and Moore who doted on her. It felt like all the anxiety and stress everyone had been under was a memory of months ago, rather than yesterday. Lyonette was grateful for that beyond words.
But there were still things she had to put her foot down on. She and Mrsha had done a lot of reconciling since yesterday, but one thing had to change.
“No more wand. Come on, give it here.”
She held out her hand. Mrsha clutched the magical artifact worth hundreds or thousands of gold pieces to her chest and shook her head rapidly. Lyonette sighed.
“Mrsha, I know you like biting it. But it doesn’t bother you where that wand has been?”
The Gnoll paused as she put the tip into her mouth and stared at Lyonette. Clearly, soap and water cured all ills in her book. She shook her head and darted back as Lyonette tried to grab the wand.