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239 A Hero Confronting Failure
🕑 Added 2025-05-02 23:00:01 +0000 UTC– Era of the Wastes, Cycle 219, Season of the Setting Sun, Day 45 –
Loud cheering could be heard all throughout the Freedom Cooperative.
Random strangers in the streets were hugging each other and buying each other drinks.
Jubilation everywhere.
“We won!”
“It’s over!”
“Long live the Cooperative!”
“Long live Freedom!”
“Long live the Guardian!”
Edmund looked at the explosive happiness with mixed feelings. His city had survived. He was undeniably proud of that.
With two duchesses dead, one more captured, and one defected to the Lands of the Four Towers, the invasion of the Unholy Duchesses was over, without a doubt. He naturally heaved a sigh of relief at that.
However, these people didn’t know that their hero was still unconscious. From everything Edmund had heard, the Guardian had not been in his right state of mind during the final battle. He couldn’t help but worry about the one his city had burdened.
Edmund patrolled the streets of his city and took in everything. The celebrations. The drunkards. The people following their daily lives. He stopped when he saw the Flower House. People exited the Flower House with a clear direction in mind.
Edmund took a deep breath. He would like to go to the Lands of the Four Towers and visit the Guardian, too. To thank him for all he had done. However, with so much disorderly activity all throughout his city, he knew there would be a lot of work for the guards very soon.
Edmund preferred to do more work himself instead of calling in his subordinates.
They deserved a break.
***
Terry awoke with a scream. His eyes darted around frantically, half-fearing to wake up in another strange place. Dazedly recognizing the faces and voices attempting to soothe him.
His heart grew lighter seeing his family around him, but he couldn’t deal with them.
Terry wasn’t ready for his family to console him.
He didn’t feel like he deserved it.
He distinctly remembered the words between the magic sovereign and the lich king. It wasn’t the threats that had edged themselves into his brain.
No, it was a single damnable word that he couldn’t forget.
Phylactery.
After everything, the monster still lived. Saved by the battle’s location. Diminished with the loss of its body and mana foundation, to be sure, but nevertheless alive.
Terry couldn’t stand it. Couldn’t stand to live under the same sky as that monster. Couldn’t stand to have himself be consoled while others…
Ying.
Gretchen and Wilhelm.
Logan and Romana.
Olivienne and Yancey.
Saul.
Everyone…
Terry couldn’t stand himself. Couldn’t stand to accept any of the kindness offered to him.
Not until he knew the full consequences of his choices. Not until he knew the full extent of what his weakness had allowed to happen.
“I have to go to Syn City,” declared Terry. His hollow eyes found his parents. He looked at his uncle and aunt. At his cousins. His siblings. His friends. Amelia. Amelia the Spellcrusher. Amelia the dimensional mage. He didn’t hear what they were saying to him. He only repeated his declaration again and again. “I have to go. I have to see. I have to. Syn City. I have to…”
***
“You go on ahead without me,” said Daisy with determined eyes.
Lavender tilted her head.
“Why? You’re not coming back to the Flower House?” asked Iris. “Is it because Terry was…” She winced at the memory. Their former flower protector had barely spoken. The only one with whom he had talked more than a few words was his cousin Matteo, the Elemental Fury.
“No,” said Daisy with a frown. “Yes? Maybe? I don’t know.” She clenched her fists. “But I know I want to become stronger.”
“You’re already training like a…” Iris stopped herself from saying madman. “Well, I guess like a Terry. Or close to one.”
“I’ve started late.” Daisy frowned. “I’ll have something to discuss with the hunters. See you later at the Flower House!” She ran off with a wave of her hand.
“Look.” Lavender pointed at a statue being built. At least a dozen manaless crafters were involved, while a few mana users assisted with the heavy lifting.
The statue’s face hadn’t been carved yet, but from the peculiar equipment, it was already clear whom it was going to depict.
Freedom’s Guardian on the day of the first invading horde of undead hellspawn.
“I have the feeling Terry won’t like that,” said Iris with a wry expression.
Lavender nodded and retrieved a chocolate bar. “He’s earned it.” She offered a piece to Iris.
“Thanks,” said Iris, and allowed the chocolate to melt in her mouth. “I just wish we could do something to help him.”
“Help who?” asked a passerby.
Iris raised her chin towards the statue.
“The Guardian?”
“What does he need?”
“What can we do?”
Mutters spread like a wildfire and people crowded around the two flowers.
“Nothing,” said a woman in leather clothes. Elenec had caught the commotion, and the topic was clear from the mutterings. “Your Guardian is just having some trouble coming to terms with his loss.”
“Loss? But we won!”
“I thought we defeated the Unholy Duchesses?!”
“Will they be back?!”
“By mana…”
“No, they won’t be back,” assured Elenec. “You’ve heard correctly. The Twisted Duchess is dead, just like the Bloody Duchess. The Risen Duchess has been captured and brought to Thanatos. The Spirited Duchess is now on our side as part of the Lands’ Spirit Tower. Only the Tainted Duchess remains in the Lich Kingdoms. The invasion is truly over.”
“I heard the Guardian killed a prince of the Lich Kingdoms. Is that true?”
“Defeated,” corrected Elenec soberly. “Killed the body, but the soul escaped. That prince won’t be rising to his previous power anytime soon though. Being forced to escape using their phylactery is a significant blow to any necromancer.”
“Then what loss?”
“Look at the entrance gate of your city, and you get the idea,” said Elenec.
The citizens of the Freedom Cooperative immediately quieted down. Their entrance gates were covered in the posters of the city’s dead. They knew of the casualties, of course, but these past few days, they had focused on celebrating life instead of mourning the dead.
“Everyone who has fought a battle where they couldn’t save everyone knows what your Guardian is going through,” said Elenec. “Don’t let that detract from your celebration. You have earned it. Just don’t expect him to join the celebrations.” She looked at the two flowers. “And don’t bother these two. Let them pass.”
“Thanks,” mumbled Iris, and she pulled Lavender along.
***
Most of Terry’s friends were sitting around in the training grounds in the Lands of the Four Towers. They had tried talking to Terry but had gotten nowhere. Their friend only kept repeating the same wish.
To go to Syn City.
Unfortunately, the dimensional mages were still busy.
Amelia with hunting down stragglers.
Yorgos with preparing gates for the Valkyrie’s arrival.
Mia with a mission from the Guild.
Terry hadn’t even explained what was going on. The only one he really talked to was Matteo, who had stayed by his side ever since Terry had woken up.
The group had come to spar as a distraction from their feeling of helplessness. A way to distract themselves from not knowing how to help their hurting friend.
However, even though sparring had been the plan, they were now mostly sitting on the ground with little sparring going on.
“That’s it!” Rafael roared and jumped up. “I’m going to smack him!”
“What?” Miguel looked at the felan as if he had grown a second tail.
“I’ve seen it before. Sometimes people need a good smacking to snap out of it,” explained Rafael in the tone of a wise elder.
“If you so much as try, I’m going to smack you,” growled Lori.
“What she said,” said Jorg and pointed a thumb at his sister.
“Oh, come on,” whined Rafael. “He has to snap out of it. He’s making me feel… stuff. I can’t stand looking at him like that.”
“Oh no, the Heavenly Wolf is feeling things.” Siling rolled her eyes.
“Give him a break,” said Elena. “Martialists aren’t used to feeling…” She used her fingers to make air-quotes. “‘Stuff’.”
“Or to admit it,” added Tiana.
“Oy!” Rafael straightened himself up. He pointed at Siling. “You get a pass since your dad just died.” He pointed at Elena and Tiana. “But you two! We’re going to spar!”
“Courageous today, aren’t we?” Tiana looked at the felan.
Elena simply ignored Rafael’s outburst.
“The great me is always courageous,” bragged Rafael.
“Siyu?” Siling looked past the felan. “Calam?”
“This one appeared and was looking for you.” Siyu gestured towards Calam. She glanced at Rafael. “Is this one bothering you, Siling?”
Siling considered the question. “A little bit.”
“I could cut off his tail,” suggested Siyu in a tone flat enough to inspire uncertainty if she truly meant it.
Rafael gasped and subconsciously turned slightly to bring his tail out of reach for the walking soul. He growled with narrowed eyes. “I knew you were evil, after all.”
“Stop it,” barked Calam. “I have news.”
“Did the Valkyrie arrive?” asked Jorg.
“No, the Valkyrie and the Mage Supreme are still tied up in Tiv,” said Calam. “But after Yorgos explained the situation and transmitted my request with a letter, the Supreme’s Disciple, Mahalia, came to transport us.
“She’s capable of long-distance anchored dimensional travel and, apparently, she knows the location of Syn City, which should shorten the time it takes. As long as we get permission from the Union, she can maintain the gates along the way permanently, so that everyone remains flexible.
“Mahalia has just arrived.” Calam could hear the impatience in his own voice, but he couldn’t help it. This simply wasn’t how victory was supposed to be. How victory was supposed to feel. He couldn’t stand seeing his friend Terry like this.
***
Terry was the first to walk through the gate.
Thank mana, the cloaking is still present.
He could sense people. Mostly children. The city’s constructs had held and prevented the survivors from being overrun completely.
Not just the constructs…
“Vell?” Elenec walked through the gate. Her old Guild-partner had settled in Syn City with his daughter, so it was not a surprise to see him.
“Elenec?” The vampire still wore bandages and goggles. “Thank mana, you’re here! I already sent an emergency signal to the Guardians at the Chara Settlement.”
Vell shook his head. “I don’t know what the Wastes happened. I don’t know how to properly use the constructs and I can’t hold this place forever on my own. Wait, weren’t you supposed to be on a hunt with…?” He looked through the gate. “Matteo! You’re a sight for sore eyes!”
Terry watched the vampire Guildhead. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.
Thank mana, not every capable fighter accepted the damned Light.
“Terry?” A small boy stumbled forward.
Terry winced when recognizing Olivienne’s son, Pedro. He knelt down and hugged the motherless boy. He didn’t know what to do or say. He sighed and retrieved a few boxes from his dimensional storage. “We’ve brought supplies.” He placed a few bars of the best chocolate on top of the box.
He felt pathetic.
Terry walked away from the crowd. Walked through the streets. To the house he had once stayed in. To the city park.
He sat down in the grass, focused on his breathing, and allowed his mana to spread.
Terry didn’t need to walk around to get an idea of the lives lost. He could feel the emptiness.
The city had grown a lot since he had last been here and yet, there were a lot fewer people now than back then.
Terry’s mana covered all of it. His mana foundation had improved once more. The assistance from the dungeon had not put him at the same bottomless mana level as acting as a dungeon defender, but it had still been beneficial beyond belief.
Terry couldn’t bring himself to care.
“It’s not your fault.” Matteo sat down next to him.
“I know,” muttered Terry.
“Are you sure? Because you don’t sound convinced,” said Matteo. He felt odd when reprimanding Terry like this. Like his mother Sigille had used to reprimand Matteo. “This was Anand’s doing, above all.”
Terry nodded without replying.
“And as hard as it is to say…” Matteo looked around. “The people here were warned. Ma warned them that they are accepting a magic that they do not understand.” He shook his head and looked around. “Even though I’m sure many of them didn’t think they had a choice.” He bit his lower lip. “Hopefully, the situation of the wasters will continue to improve under Arcana’s rule.”
Terry didn’t reply. His mind was still occupied with feeling the emptiness around him.
“If only we had focused more on the ‘Progenitor’ back then.” Matteo lowered his gaze. “We might have discovered Anand’s hand in this. We might have avoided—”
“Not your fault,” said Terry.
“Listen to yourself,” said Matteo with an edge to his voice. “I was already a death hunter back then. I should have—”
“Vell is a death hunter, too,” said Terry. “And Sigille herself didn’t notice. Anand’s cloaking is impeccable.”
“Your perception breached it.” Matteo pointed out.
“Expecting the same of your elemental senses is like expecting me to cast Fireball,” said Terry without meeting his cousin’s eyes. His gaze kept wandering around the empty houses.
“It’s not your fault, Terry,” insisted Matteo.
“I know it’s not,” said Terry half-heartedly. “Anand is a monster. They fell for…” He shook his head. “I’m just not sure it matters.” He choked up and took a deep breath to steady himself. “I knew there would be people dying, but…”
Terry closed his eyes. “The people that poured into the Freedom Cooperative chose to fight. Even those that never really had a choice. They were in it, because it was their fight. They were the ones being attacked.”
Terry opened his eyes and a single tear rolled down his face. “But the people here? They just wanted to live their lives. They weren’t a part of that fight. They didn’t have to die. Yes, in the end, it was Anand and I know that, but…”
Terry clenched his fists. “But the people here? They died because I entered a fight I couldn’t win without getting them involved.” His knuckles turned white from the strength in his fists. “I was too weak to do it any other way. My weakness allowed this to happen.”
“If it had been me instead of you, then the same would have happened,” stressed Matteo. “Anand must be at least twice my age and thrice yours. Terry, you’re the most diligent person I know and that’s saying something. You held your own against Anand, for mana’s sake. Thanks to you, we learned about his background. Thanks to you, we defeated a prince of the Lich Kingdoms. Do you have any idea what that means? You couldn’t possibly have been any stronger.”
Is that true though?
Terry couldn’t help but think of the location inside his head. The location implanted by the dungeon he had defended in the folded space. A location he had never followed up on personally.
He had shared the location with his uncle. A team of Guildheads and Guardians had been dispatched to investigate, but what if…?
Terry glanced at Matteo, but quickly averted his eyes again. “You know what the worst part is?” He shook his head. “All this death and I can’t even say I’m sorry.” He grimaced, and another tear ran down his face. “Because I’m not sure. I don’t know if I could have done any better than…” He clenched his fists. “I’m too weak.”
“It’s not your fault,” stressed Matteo. “If you are too weak, then so are we all.” He shook his head. “Focus on the bright side: We now know Anand’s background. We’ll get him eventually, no matter how difficult it may be.” He stood up. “I’m sure you’re aware, but the others are standing around worrying about you.”
“I need some time alone,” said Terry faintly.
“I’ll tell them,” said Matteo. Even though he was sure that everyone had already followed their conversation with mana-enhanced hearing.
Matteo walked away and noted one face in particular. He had expected Terry’s friends to wear expressions of worry, sympathy, or even pain, but there was one face who appeared more sympathetic than he had expected.
From what Matteo remembered, the man named Maximilian had never been too fond of Terry, even antagonizing his cousin most of the time. But now it looked as if something about the current situation had changed that attitude.
***
“Lady Mahalia.” The Captain lowered her head. “I did not expect to meet you here.” Megumi could not help the slight edge in her voice. They had come as fast as possible after the Deathguard coordinator had noticed the distress signal from Vell.
Lizzy subconsciously brought a hand to one of her miniature weapons. They didn’t know what was going on, but seeing the Supreme’s Disciple wasn’t exactly reassuring. The last time they had seen her in Syn’s territory was the time she had collected her daughter Ava, who had attempted to eradicate the city of undead with the Preacher’s Divine Division.
“I’m here to assist the Arcanian,” said Mahalia. “A request by the Mage Supreme.”
“Arcanian?” Lizzy tilted her head. There were many of those around nowadays. Even though the Chara Settlement was beyond the newly declared special district of Arcana, they still benefited from regular Arcanian patrols.
“Captain.” Matteo walked up to greet the new arrivals.
“Matteo?” Megumi’s eyebrows rose. The Elemental Fury wasn’t known to cloak his mana to such a level that she didn’t notice his approach. “Wait, Arcanian? You don’t mean… Terry?”
“I’ll explain,” said Matteo. He looked to the side. “I guess Devon is already greeting Buttercup.”
“Always the same,” grumbled Lizzy. “When did he slip away? How can someone with such a noticeable mana signature always manage to slip away to pet some dog or…?” She continued grumbling while walking towards Devon’s location to prevent the man lacking common sense from following his specialty and making things worse.
***
“Hey, Terry!” Devon sat down next to Terry with two dogs in tow. Buttercup, the molossian, and Brutus, the little terrier.
“Devon…” Terry smiled weakly. “I think I need some alone time right now.”
“I know. They told me,” said Devon, completely ignoring the contradiction between his words and his actions.
“What the furry FUCK is THAT?!” The loud shout of Rafael reverberated over the area.
Terry could feel that his felan friend was pointing at Devon, or rather Devon’s ominous mana signature.
He almost chuckled.
Almost.
“Assist the Venerable Elder!”
“Protect the Returnee!”
Terry’s eyebrow twitched. These loonies really had no sense of self-preservation. Or common sense to gauge the situation. For a moment, he wondered how the martialists would react when Devon simply shrugged off their attacks as if they were mosquito bites.
“He’s my friend, you dimwits!” shouted Terry angrily. He was vaguely aware that this was the most he had raised his voice since the battle against the monster.
“Apologies, Venerable Elder!” A martialist in light blue robes kowtowed.
“I’ll give myself a thousand lashes to atone for my offense,” shouted another.
“No, I don’t need any of that,” barked Terry. “Just stay quiet and stop attacking people willy-nilly.”
Devon watched everything unperturbed. He was busy rubbing Buttercup’s belly. The molossian dog clearly enjoyed the attention and let her tongue hang out of her mouth peacefully. He glanced at Terry. “New friends?”
“Kind of,” sighed Terry. “Loonies.”
Devon nodded like that would explain everything. “Mine helped defend the orphanage a while ago. Some looneys can be nice. Strange but nice.”
Terry couldn’t help but snort. The idea of Devon calling anyone strange was simply too much. He shook his head with a snicker and wiped something from his eye.
“Woof!” Brutus barked quietly at Terry and rubbed himself against Terry’s hand.
Terry glanced at Buttercup and then at the terrier in front of him. “Jealous that the big one gets all the attention, are you?” He began rubbing the belly of the little dog.
For a time, Terry peacefully patted Brutus and forgot his worries.
“They always die.”
Devon’s muttering jolted Terry from his pleasant state of not thinking about anything.
Terry looked at his friend.
“I never do,” said Devon absentmindedly.
Terry furrowed his brow and stared at the friend next to him. As youthful as Devon looked, he was definitely among the oldest people walking this realm. Terry had never wondered what that would mean for Devon himself.
To see those around him die for centuries.
Even worse, with his ridiculous life and death sense, he would always sense it.
Terry had no words to say. He returned his attention to satisfying the terrier’s demands for belly pats. Somehow, sitting here with Devon and the dogs made him feel better.
***
“Thank you for this, Captain,” said Vell.
“You should thank Lady Mahalia,” said Megumi. “She’s the one taking care of the gates to get us to the Chara Settlement.”
“But you’re the one that got Mal and the Deathguard to accept everyone.” Vell lowered his head. “I know there are a lot of vampires among the children.”
“Who cares if they’re vampires? They’re children,” stressed Lizzy.
“Well, Arcana seems to care,” said Megumi wryly. “Migrating to the special district would be difficult.”
“I get that vampirism is a mana curse, but this is stupid,” grumbled Lizzy. “They’re kids for mana’s sake. I thought Arcana of all empires would have found a solution that works for everyone.”
“Guess not.” Megumi shrugged. “We’re out of the district anyway, so we might as well fill the gap.”
“Perhaps Lady Mahalia would agree to set up a gate to the Libra Outpost?” Lizzy wondered out loud.
“Let’s deal with one problem before we connect two potential problems together,” said the Captain. “If we’re going to become the refugee destination for vampires, then I’m not sure it’s the best idea to link up with the new home of channelers not willing to follow Arcana’s rules.”
“Yeah, we still have to figure out the feeding urge,” said Lizzy with a frown.
“Don’t they just need blood?” Devon approached, together with Terry. “I have blood.”
“Devon, no,” groaned Lizzy. “I know you mean well, but we can’t turn you into…” Her words trailed off while her eyes narrowed. “You already did it, didn’t you? Feed the vampire children?”
“They were hungry,” said Devon with a shrug.
“Devon, we have to figure something else out,” stressed Megumi. “At the very least, they should never bite you directly. That would teach problematic habits. Not to mention that your blood might not be the most…” She grimaced while looking for words. “Healthy.”
“I could donate blood,” suggested Terry. “I’m sure the others would be happy to help, too.”
“Good to see you up again, Terry.” Megumi nodded at him.
“Yeah, with you to watch Devon, I have more time to recover from his presence,” added Lizzy.
Devon looked at Lizzy with a deadpan expression. “Try not to stab anyone while you’re away from me.”.
“You…!”
The moment the dimensional gate connected to the Chara Settlement, a black skeleton with a cyan glow barged through. “Gretchen! I’m back! Where are…?”
Terry swallowed the lump in his throat.
“What’s wrong with you?” Ethel stared at the man who had fallen to his knees for some reason. “What was your name again? Terrier or something?”
“Terry,” muttered the stunned man.
“Right, the one that provided the inscription base materials for this.” Ethel gestured at her body. “Thanks, but I hope you didn’t come back to demand more payment, because you’re not getting any more. I’m a deathguard now, so it’s only right that you’ve helped me.” She jerked her skull towards another direction. “Gretchen!”
“Gretchen is dead,” said Devon matter-of-factly.
“Devon, some tact please…” Lizzy held her forehead.
“What are you on about, idiot?” Ethel barked at Devon. “Gretchen!”
Devon shrugged.
“Ethel, we need to talk,” said the Captain.
“Wait a second.” Terry spoke up and found the strength to stand up as well. “How are you alive?”
The spectral knight tilted her skull. “Did you get hit on the head, boy?” She gestured at herself. “What exactly screams ‘alive’ about this?” She looked to the side again. “Gretchen!”
While the Captain tried to explain the situation to the sole survivor of the Light of Syn, Terry’s eyes were drawn to the dungeon material covered in inscriptions that served as the body binding the specter.
“That…” Terry tapped Lizzy on the shoulder to get her attention. “We have to share that with everyone!”
“What?” Lizzy creased her brows.
“Ethel survived,” stressed Terry. “It must have something to do with the body Saul and Ying created for her from the dungeon’s inscription base metal.”
If the monster is really raising other ‘projects’ like Syn City, then…
“This might save others,” finished Terry in a mumble.
***
“Look, boy.” The cyan flames in the spectral knight’s eye sockets were focused on Terry. “Don’t… Shit, I don’t know what to say. This is bullcrap. I’m not good at this. Bah!” Her eye flames pulsed with irritation. “Hmph. Look, I’ve heard what happened, and it’s not your fault. So stop looking like a wet towel and… I shouldn’t have said that. I think? Gretchen was better at this… Gretchen… Why her? Why am I the lucky one? I mean, it’s time that I got lucky, too, but…
“Bah!” Ethel stomped away, leaving a slightly confused Terry behind.
“Thanks?” muttered Terry. “I guess?” He sighed and shook his head.
***
“What up?” Siling plopped herself next to Terry, who was lying on the ground in the city park, and stared up at the starry evening sky. “Did you know that you and your friend Devon have a lot in common? The guy just asked me to pet Furball the Second. Can you believe that? We just met. I barely know the guy! The nerve!”
Terry snickered, but immediately felt a pang of guilt. His friends had continued paying him visits, obviously trying to cheer him up. He had gotten used to receiving their kindness again, but Siling was different.
Siling had just lost her father.
It didn’t feel right for her to act cheerful, just to cheer him up.
“You don’t have to do that, you know,” said Terry. “I’m… sorry I wasn’t strong enough to help your father.”
Siling flicked Terry on the forehead.
“Ow, what was that for?”
“Sometimes you’re a real idiot, you know that?”
Oh believe me, I do. But what does that have to do with anything?
Siling crossed her arms and looked down at Terry lying on the ground. “You’re my best friend. My oldest friend. That man might have been my father, but I remember more time with you than I do with him. And that’s saying something, considering I haven’t seen you for years thanks to dungeon shenanigans. And my lack of memories with my father is his own doing.”
“That’s not…” Terry felt the urge to speak up for Ying. “He was just trying to…”
“To protect us? To save Siyu?” suggested Siling. “I know.” She laid down next to Terry on the ground and looked at the stars. “And look at it from that perspective: He succeeded in the end, didn’t he? Our father succeeded.” She took a deep breath. “Dad did.”
Terry didn’t know what to say, so he held his tongue.
“I lost a father that I don’t remember, but I gained a sister I didn’t know about,” continued Siling with her gaze on the stars. “And I would never even have met her without my best friend.”
She lightly punched Terry without looking at him. “Forget about living with her in the Spirit Tower and getting to know her. You risked your life to give us that. I don’t think anyone else could have done any better. So if I hear another ‘sorry’, I’m going to instruct Wingman to cover you in shit every day for a month.”
Terry exaggeratedly shivered in disgust.
After a moment of silence, Terry asked: “How is Siyu?”
“Much like me,” said Siling with a shrug. “And not. Like Dark Siling, the ‘muahahaha’ kind, but less fluffy. Sometimes it’s hard to tell if she’s joking. I think Gellath will love her.”
“And about Ying?” asked Terry.
“She’s taking it harder,” said Siling. “She remembers him after all. Now that she knows that he never intended to abandon her…” She sighed. “She’s having a difficult time with mom, though.”
Terry thought of something. He retrieved a ring he hadn’t used in a while. It was the vampire bat spirit projection ring that Ying had gifted him. “Here.”
“Oh? Do you think I would be the kind of elf to accept rings from a strange man in the Wastes?” quipped Siling.
“Are you calling me strange?” grumbled Terry with narrowed eyes.
“Yes,” replied Siling without missing a beat. “Strange like a little Devon.”
Terry opened his mouth to object, but he vaguely recollected that he had been compared to Devon before, which sucked the strength out of his desired rebuttal before he could even voice it.
“You showed this to us in Arcana.” Siling examined the spirit projection ring. “The headache giver.”
“Yeah…” Terry sent a side-ways glance towards the ring in Siling’s hand. “It’s from Ying. I don’t really use it anymore. Not since discovering my mana touch. I don’t know if you want it, but you can have it. If you don’t want it, perhaps Siyu might? As a memory of your father?”
“I believe Siyu could never forget dad,” muttered Siling quietly. “She remembers him every time she looks in a mirror and sees an elven soul spirit, after all. She remembers him with every breath she takes…”
Siling looked at her father’s ring for some more time, before putting it away into her storage item. “Thank you.” She took a deep breath. “Now out with it.”
“Out with what?” Terry furrowed his brow.
“Whatever you’re plotting,” said Siling. “I know that look.” She glanced at him sideways. “And I’m not the only one. Or didn’t you notice how your siblings are never moving further away from you than their mana sense? Never allowing you anywhere close to a dimensional mage without being around to intercept you?”
“Uhh…”
“Uhh yourself!” Siling pointed a finger at him without looking. “I’ll tell you right now. If you pull another stunt like in the Wastes, if you leave without saying anything, you’re never going to walk outside without being covered in bird shit ever again.”
Terry frowned.
Am I really this transparent?
Damn you, honest face.
“You remember the dungeon location in my head?” asked Terry.
“Yeah…” Siling glanced at her friend with creased brows. “I thought the pioneering run had finished? Nothing special.”
Isn’t it?
Terry took a deep breath before speaking his thoughts. “I find that hard to believe and…”
“And?”
“And I suspect whatever is there only works if I’m there,” finished Terry.
“That’s…” Siling scowled. “You really were planning on running off somewhere!”
“Not without telling everyone before,” stressed Terry.
“Uh-huh,” acknowledged Siling with doubt in her voice. She pinched her brow. “You do realize that your parents will never agree? You’ve barely come out of a war. You’ve been lost for years. Wastes, if you were my son, I’d probably tie you up somewhere in Arcana for a few years? Perhaps assign you a permanent escort of healers and dimensional mages? What do you think they will do when you share your plans?”
Terry grimaced. He had a good idea. He still remembered their reaction when Jorg had voiced his interest in joining the Guild over the Guardians back before Terry had even discovered his only spell.
Terry did not look forward to confronting his family over this matter, but he couldn’t help it.
He couldn’t stand being weak.
Not while the monster was still out there…
***
Comments
Cameron Earl
I love how effective the Devon and dogs scene was. It felt genuinely cathartic. Excellent writing.
Sesharan
A painfully melancholy aftermath. In the end, they did achieve what they actually set out to do— Siyu is free and the Collective won their war. But that doesn’t feel like much of a victory when the Big Bad of Anand got away alive after slaughtering an entire city of people Terry knew and cared about. It was good to see Devon (and Megumi and Liz) again, though. Devon’s always been someone who understands Terry in a way that a lot of other people struggle to, by virtue of them being similar shades of weird. It’s a good bond for Terry to reestablish. And of course, we have Terry’s intention to throw himself into yet another unknown situation. Is this the thing that will finally take Terry outside of this realm? I wish he would take the time for a proper vacation before haring off on another dangerous adventure, give himself some time without anyone depending on him or any pressure on his shoulders to just relax with his family, but it seems like he’s internalized that weight at this point. There’s no longer any chance of him setting his burdens down.
Benji
Thanks for the chapter!
