by Eric Ugland
“Is he going to get better?”
“Your grace, I apologize, but I have no way of knowing.”
I nodded at her, and then walked over and sat down on the bed next to Skeld’s. He laid his book down, and folded his little furry paws over it.
“Seems like you’re going to be in charge of looking over Ragnar soon,” Skeld said.
“Knock it off,” I said. “You’re going to be fine.”
“You’re really shit at lying, you know?”
“Too bad it isn’t killing the truth. I’m good at killing things and, I mean—”
“It’s a terrible joke that makes almost no sense, Montana,” he said.
“Fuck you, it’s hilarious.”
“Maybe try explaining it a little more.” He smiled and chuckled a little, but then started coughing. A wet gross cough.
“It’s weird,” Skeld said. “I don’t even remember being that badly hurt by the creatures we found. But clearly they got me where it counted.”
“Could have been the world over there.”
“Then why aren’t you effected?”
“Either the regeneration or something else. I don’t know.”
“Benefit of being Fallen or whatever?”
“Yeah. Could just be that you lutra are more sensitive to environmental changes. Something toxic in the air just got to you. But don’t give up—“
“Montana, if magic has yet to heal me in the slightest, there is little remaining that can.”
“If there’s one thing I know about this world, it’s that there’s always something out there with more power and a greater ability to make magic happen. We just haven’t found the right thing. We will.”
He gave me a wan smile, and I noticed that his teeth were tinged red.
I patted his hands, and he nodded.
“I’ll find something,” I said. “You just hold on.”
He nodded at me one more time, and I gave him a smile.
You have been offered a quest:
Save Skeld
Keep Skeld from dying
Reward for success: Skeld, Morale bonus for healers in Coggeshall. Increased chance of healers leveling in Coggeshall
Penalty for failure (or refusal): Loss of Skeld. Morale penalty for healers in Coggeshall. A chance healers will decamp for other settlements
Yes/No
I accepted the quest as soon as it popped up.
“Get some rest,” I said. “
He smiled. “Trying to get a little reading in,” he replied, holding the book up. “But I promise it’s nothing taxing. You should try it some time.”
“Is that a joke about me being dumb?” I asked.
“I would never.” But he smiled, a big smile like I was used to.
I walked out of the hospital, and I didn’t look back. I wanted to. I wanted to rage and ask the heavens... I stopped in my tracks, and a dwarf pushed a cart right into the backs of my knees.
“Sorry, milord,” the dwarf said quietly. Then he turned the cart and rushed it the other way.
I could, potentially, speak to the heavens. I had before. In fact, I just finished a quest for the heavens. The heavens that, in particular, represented the little dying lutra in the other room. I sprinted up the stairs until I got to my room, pushed past my honor guard, and went straight out onto my balcony.
Prayer had never really been a thing in my life. Either of my lives, really. Religion was more of a cultural thing back on Earth, or a community thing, really. And once my parents were gone, it wasn’t a thing at all. And here, well, it’s a bit of a weird flex, but the gods always came to me on Vuldranni. So I wasn’t exactly sure what I supposed to do to call a goddess. And unfortunately, I’d lost my cleric, so it’s not like there was even anyone I could ask about proper procedure. I mean, should I be burning incense? Did I need to be in a temple? Was there a sacrifice involved?
To start, though, I figured the best way was the stereotypical way. So I got down on my knees, closed my eyes, and clasped my hands together.
“Eona,” I said, “can you, uh, I mean, are you busy? Do you have time to talk? It’s important?”
Nothing.
I peeked out.
Still Nothing.
No gods coming to visit.
Shit.
I needed to find a cleric. Or something. I didn’t know what else to do. I stood up, brushed my knees off, and looked down over the greens. There was activity around the new building and a bit around the brownies’ tree, but otherwise, it was just an empty field.
“You called?” a familiar voice asked, coming from behind me.
I turned and saw the beautiful woman, Eona. She smiled at me.
“It is good to see you, Montana,” she said. “I worried you would not be returning.”
“Yeah, well, me too.”
“And yet, here you are.”
“Here I am. I do have a favor to ask you, though.”
“Ask away.”
“I need you to heal Skeld.”
“Skeld. The lutra you brought into your hirð.”
“Yeah, that’s the one.”
She closed her eyes, and her form shimmered a little. I wasn’t sure what was happening. Then she opened her eyes and pulsed with white light.
“I can do nothing for him,” she said.
“The fuck you can’t,” I snapped back. “He’s one of—“
“Be aware of who you speak to, Montana of Coggeshall.”
“I’m speaking to the goddess who said she was a protector of people like that.”
“I am.”
“Then why won’t you help him?”
“It is not a matter of desire, Montana. I cannot.”
“Why?”
“What ails him is beyond me.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“It is something I have never seen before. Something I do not fully understand. I can see where it is, I can fathom what it might be, but I still cannot see it. I can do nothing to it.”
“That’s horse shit.”
“You may be as angry as you like,” she said, “but it changes nothing about what I am able to accomplish.”
“There’s got to be something you can do.”
“What would you have me do?”
“Heal him.”
“I cannot.”
“Then, I mean, bring him back to life.”
“Again, that is a power beyond me.”
“Why can I come back?”
“Why do you think?”
“I don’t fucking know! Nothing makes a lick of fucking sense to me.”
With a casual wave of her hand, the door to the balcony and all the shutters slammed shut. A breeze came up. It was difficult to hear any of the construction happening below.
“You are here because of your unique relationship with a god, yes?”
“Mister Paul?”
She gave the barest of nods. “Perhaps best to leave his name out of this. All names might be even better.”
“So if, uh, Mister P is, I mean, if he can bring me back, can he bring Skeld back?”
“No.”
“Why the fuck not?’”
“That is not how the game is played.”
“What game?”
“You are well aware I can tell you no more on that.”
“Then tell me if there is a way to save Skeld.”
“There may be, but it is not a way I know.”
“Is there a way to bring him back from the dead?”
“That which is dead should remain dead. There are few ways to bring souls back from that realm.”
I snapped my finger and pointed at her. “Ah, but there is a way. Right? Someone is in charge of the land of the dead, and that means I can go there and get Skeld back if Skeld dies.”
“You tread a dangerous path that way.”
“This fucking place doesn’t seem to have any paths but dangerous.”
She grinned, just for a second, at that.
“All hope is not lost,” she said. “Skeld still lives. His body continues to fight against that which poisons him. It is possible he will heal on his own.”
“You don’t sound confident.”
“It is rare to encounter something so... foreign. Unknown. It leaves me confused.”
“I don’t mean to sound mean, or, you know, like a dick, but is there someone I could speak to who might know more?”
“Certainly,” she said with a wry smile. “And I take no umbrage. I am not known for my intelligence, certainly not in this matter. You might try speaking to the god of magic. Or the god of knowledge. Perhaps the god of healers. There are many who are in a better position to give you guidance or assistance than myself.”
“But you, I mean, he’s one of yours.”
“He is like a child to me, and his pain—“
“Then help me—“
“I have millions of children, Montana,” she said. “Many are in situations worse than Skeld. Many are dying even now as I speak to you. Should I consider Skeld worth more than any of my other children?”
“Yes. Because he got this way going on your quest, doing what—“
“He got this way going on your quest, Montana. I sent you on the quest, knowing you were up to the task. It was your decision to bring Skeld along. I am sorry, Montana, but there is nothing more I can do. Even this, even coming down to speak to you, bends the rules. Truly, I am sorry.”
She reached out and put her hand on my shoulder. I felt a warmth, and then, in the tiny space between blinks, she was gone.
I stared at the space she’d been. The breeze blowing around me disappeared, and the sound of construction reached me once again. Someone was yelling. I felt like someone had just punched me in the gut.
“Fuck it,” I said, and made up my mind.
Chapter Thirty-Three
It didn’t take long to gather up the supplies I needed. I hung my unfillable knapsack off my hip, put on the chain mail I’d gotten from the asshole shopkeeper along with some other bits of armor, and strapped the greenskins’ bane on my back. The throwing axe went opposite the knapsack. I took a quick detour through the kitchen to grab whatever dried rations I could find, and chucked them in the bag. The cooks watched over me, but no one said anything.
It was still sunny outside when I headed to the gate.
“Where do you think you’re going?” Nikolai asked, running toward me. Well, his version of running. He didn’t move well any more, after his stint in prison that is. He had this sort of loping gait that let him move quickly, but it wasn’t running so much as speed walking with attitude.
I didn’t stop walking, but I did slow down enough that he could catch up to me.
“Osterstadt,” I said. “And after that, I’m not sure.”
“Why? What’s in the city?”
“I need to find a way to speak to the god of magic. Or death. And death. And knowledge. Do they have temples for them in Osterstadt?”
“I don’t know, your grace. But I’m sure we could find out.”
“Don’t bother, I can—“
“You cannot be thinking of actually leaving—“
“I’ve got a quest—“
“You have a holding.”
“Skeld is dying.”
“I know.”
“And I need to save him.”
“You need to save this holding.”
“This place is doing fine.”
“This place is holding together for the moment, but much of that is placed on the faith you will be around to make decisions. To be the figurehead providing security to everyone here.”
“Everyone here thinks I’m a beast. They’re scared of me.”
“Maybe, but they also sleep soundly at night when they know you are within the walls.”
‘I’m not staying here to help people sleep—“
Nikolai pushed in front of me, making me stop. ”You are staying here because you need to help these people grow. You need to stay here because these people believed you when you said you were creating a place that would be a safe home for them.”
“What about Skeld?”
“What about the two thousand other souls who have placed their trust in you?”
“He’s my friend.”
“He’s my friend too, fuckwad.”
Nothing brought Nikolai’s true emotions forward like using terrible curse words he’d picked up from me.
“You have men and women here to serve you,” he continued, calmer now. “Send someone to find these temples. Someone who can go and find the way to contact these gods. It is not a job for a duke, especially not when so much else is happening.”
“But this doesn’t make sense,” I said. “He is a member of my hirð, and a dear friend of mine. How can you tell me to stop working for his survival?”
“Because there are more people at stake here,” Nikolai said. “And I’m telling you to send someone to start the process. You really think the best use of your time is to go out and see if there is a temple? Figure out how to contact some gods? Have someone else do that, and when they know, you can then do it.”
I looked over his head, out into the sky. I was angry, which made it difficult to really think. I just wanted to be angry, and to take that anger out on something. But deep down I knew it wasn’t the best idea. I was trying to be a good person, trying to be the good guy. The duke. And being the duke meant that I couldn’t just go rage on things. I told Nikolai I’d listen to him. I said I was going to be smarter about things. And maybe, just maybe, that was something that needed to start right now.
I sighed. “Okay,” I said. “Can you send someone to find out--“
“I will take care of it.”
I nodded. “What should I be doing?”
“For one, talk to Zoey and get a real suit of armor,” Nikolai said, eyebrows raised as he looked over my patchwork set. “Then talk to Lee. You’re the power behind the road — get them to build it.”
Once again, I nodded.
I noticed a notification pop up in the corner of my view, and though my first instinct was to ignore it, clearly Nikolai got the same notification, because I saw him reading.
“Oh no,” he whispered, and his eyes locked on mine.
I had to look at it.
Be Aware that you have failed.
You have failed a quest:
Save Skeld
Skeld died
Penalty for failure (or refusal): Loss of Skeld. Morale penalty for healers in Coggeshall. A chance healers will decamp for other settlements
ALERT!
A member of your hirð has perished. All members of the hirð save leader gain mood debuff and have increased chance of breaking under pressure.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Skeld was dead.
My heart sank, and my vision swam. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know how to feel.
Naturally, anger came first. I wanted to hit something. My eyes focused on Nikolai, and I think he was thinking the same thing. Or, rather, I think he was thinking I wanted to hit him. Which I did.
But I didn’t.
“You couldn’t have done anything even if I hadn’t stopped you,” Nikolai said quickly.
“You think that’s why I’m angry?” I yelled, stepping forward and getting into his personal space. I was looking nearly straight down at him. “You think I care that you stopped me?”
“I don’t know what you’re thinking right now,” he replied, “but I do know that you need to calm down.”
I snatched the front of his tunic with one hand and lifted him up so he was eye to eye with me.
“Pro tip,” I growled at him, “telling someone to calm down never works.”
I threw him to the side, and marched back to the doors to the mountain-home. I swallowed the growing rage as best I could, making a point not to push anyone out of the way. I also didn’t rip the doors off their hinges. I didn’t do anything violent, despite the mounting desire. I
knew it wouldn’t do any good. Instead, I calmly walked into the hospital.
Ragnar was there, standing at the end of the bed. Skeld was in the bed, still. His eyes were closed, and his book lay open on his lap. I saw now that he was actually writing in it. His tiny pencil had fallen to the floor.
I put a hand on Ragnar’s shoulder.
He didn’t look at me, but he nodded.
“I’m sorry,” I said.
Ragnar shook his head. “Not your fault.”
“I took him on that quest--“
“He went on that quest with you. He went there because we both serve you—“
“I shouldn’t have—“
“Stop,” Ragnar snapped. “If you say what I know what you will, you dishonor his memory. And I know you don’t want to do that.”
I just stood there.
“You never ordered us to do a damn thing,” he continued. “Every step we’ve taken since we swore our lives to you, we took because we wanted to. Skeld could have remained here, behind these walls. He could have just done, I don’t know, whatever he wanted because that was the choice you gave us. And he chose to go with you. To fight with you and for you. For this place. It is the same fucking choice I’ve made. And I know he would make it again. So don’t take that choice away from him now when he can’t make it again.”
It was weird to hear him talk that way, but I think I understood. If I blamed myself, I took away Skeld’s agency, and there wasn’t any way for Skeld to get it back. I mean, at the same time, I wasn’t about to give up on Skeld. I knew there had to be some crazy way to get the little lutra back. Maybe it was time to go down to the land of the dead and do a little butt whoopin’ there until such time as Death understood I wasn’t to be fucked with. You know, if that was even possible here.
Was that the right move? Should I try and bring him back? It felt wrong that I was able to be respawned, but Skeld couldn’t. But the world wasn’t fair. Either world. Any world.
“It wasn’t your fault,” Ragnar repeated.
“I feel like I should be the one consoling you,” I said.