Book Description:
The world started on a false start. I was there when it began. But I forgot. I had gone on my way, trying to look for a way out, and I found it, not in the trees, but in the leaves, quietly waiting, where places don't go so easily and dust does not fly. I think that it was at that point that I forgot my true purpose.
But just now, I woke up, a being of flesh parts, quietly attempting to remember my purpose. I will do anything to remember.
Anything.
Chapter 1
Gerard got up, his hands lifting according to his joints, his sword-like limbs haphazardly jerking up, as he noticed the faintness of a world so alien to him.
He marched, attempting to do so, but stumbling, falling through the moist, dewy air, and landing against the dew and texture of the grasses. The rough surface of the ground and dirt enveloped him, as if forming his body. He struggled, unable to get up.
He struggled as he remembered something different, a world beyond this one, a previous life, a "him" that was, shivering against the grasses, like a baby pitted against the cold blue-gray elements coupled with the uncaring green.
Their vision blurred and focused again and again, his mind a turbulence of incomplete thoughts.
He lay there for a while, his heart thudding ferociously, a tear drop insufficiently softening the brutality of the blades of wind striking against his doe-like eyelids.
The blades of grasses covered him well enough for the night.
After lying there long enough, he forced himself up, heaving, and clasping the ground with his toes, sticking them as far onto the ground as possible to get the most traction.
But it was at this time that a predator was wandering, visiting, checking, probing. Its gaze was first askew, turned elsewhere, but ultimately redirected at Gerard himself.
Gerard bolted, raising his hands over his head to protect it against the foliage and branches through which he passed. He hurried down a slope, collapsing and allowing the slope to slide him down.
He finished at the bottom and then got up, dashing to a nearby tree and then doing a routine all-around check. He got a glimpse at more paths through which he could pass, but not a single dhole outline.
He stopped, pausing for his breaths to recover and his pace to reflect.
He watched the quiet, noting several elements: flowers of various kinds. They were new to him, unseen before.
That gave him food for thought. Who was he before?
He retraced his thoughts, redoubling his mind's recall capacity.
He found at the end a small door. He opened it, seeing beyond it a vast plain of faint impressions, forms that looked familiar but utterly alien.
He probed around with his finger, but received no response. There were so many things, but nothing concrete enough for him to bring along with him but to the surface.
He returned to his eyes, doing a routine all-around check. The dhole was still absent.
He knew that if he stepped too far, he could alert the already absent and unwitting dhole. But if he stayed here, he would eventually be found.
He made a run for it, keeping his toes in traction.
The branches were launchpads, and the foliage was cover.
He disappeared within the deep forest. If one looked down from the sky, they would see an uncountable mass of green. And even from within the forest, it was impossible to find an outline among an intersection of trees, branches, and leaves.
Gerard re-appeared elsewhere, a whole distance away.
He found the ongoing absence of any signs of civilization life-threatening.
He kept checking from peaks, but nothing came up, mostly hindered by the outrageously sizable forest cover, even within glades and areas where the sky was widely open. The density of the trees might have terminated here and there, but they remained often too concentrated to leave open a sparsely obstructed line of sight, at the end of which a visual hint of human creation might be found.
Given the lack of visual indicators of human activity essential in constructing vast swathes of stone-and-brick buildings and urban infrastructure, he at least kept earthworks in his to-locate list of possible civilization signs.
In the end, given the uncertainty of civilization and the difficulty of searching for it, he postponed it for later, focusing on basic survival needs, first threats, and his immediate place in this world.
Keeping his body covered, he pointed his ear far and wide, rotating it 360 degrees. Running water, some movement here and there, plenty of foliage shushing. The bouncing of the sounds compacted in his attentional control's pincer-like grasp. He played with this compact as with modeling clay. He struck deep and halved it, disturbing its natural function and slashing it asunder, tearing it apart piece by piece, until it knew no organic grace.
He found it—
Beast.
He went downhill, following slopes and curves, moving stealthily, snatching at vegetation and sliding across terrain for concealment. He refrained from noiy movement to ensure that the dhole was divorced from knowledge forever.
He sought out lusher plants, taking extreme caution in doing so.
Animal trails revealed themselves everywhere, even amid the howling ghoul-like mass of foliage flesh. By finding where multiple paths converged and headed downhill, he knew which likely led to water, because these were highways for all manner of prey and predator, especially the dhole from earlier. He instinctively maintained a distance from these tracks and assessed continuously for footprints in case any slipped his sight. The particular organization and arrangement of this environment made the potential water source too full of unknowns and choke points by the sheer foliage, one moment being enough to constrict his movement, and that spelled doom.
He went for morning dew, taking from large leaves and rainwater, but hoping still to locate larger sources.
He took a break, watching the day go by, his shoulders resting next to all kinds of plants.
He noticed someting. A sensation arising from deep inside his body. He exploded into a fit of tremors, his body involuntarily shaking. He could not transition out of this state. Droplets formed in his eyes, pouring in droves, dripping from his chin, absorbed by his clothes. He fell to the ground, groaning heavily. Even without direct physical cause for pain, his brain was throttled. The horror of death grazed his cheek. He fell onto the wet mud, his cheeks rubbing against it, his mouth tasting its organic texture and taste, his eyes drowned in a waterfall. He deflated into a puddle, muffling his shouts, plunging a hand against his face to envelop the sounds rushing out of his mouth. He burst asunder. He fell to the ground, exhausted, wasted, his chance of survival decreasing by the second. He closed his eyes, not a single sensation dissected, not a single moment partitioned, the world colliding together in a torrent, in a rush, in an endless flood.
He woke up, seeing the clouds, saved by adventurers. He could not get up, too exhausted to move, the world around him sped up, the sky like frothed milk.
His gaze adjusting to the room, he began connecting the dots. He remembered seeing a human footprint earlier while checking the animal trails, but he had dismissed the possibility and focused on securing food. As for the energy crashing, he had not accounted for it. But he was here right now, saved and safe. A man approached him, interrupting his thoughts. He pushed himself up on his bed, scanning the man's face and feeling the bed frame to get a grip of himself. "Who—" Gerard tried. "Who are you?" interjected the man.
"...Gerard," came the faintest doe.
"Oh right. Come here."
Gerard paused, unsure of what to make of it.
"Come here. Stand up. Come on."
Gerard forced himself to the side of the bed and watched for footwear, finding none. He gently placed his feet on the room floor, feeling its capacity to handle his weight. His weight perception was altered, and he had yet to adjust to it. He fell to the ground, before awkwardly picking himself up with his palms. He got up, quietly and cautiously turning his head and eyes at the strictly dressed man. "Yes?" he said.
The man mouthed, "Follow me."
Gerard stumbled as he coursed his way across the room, whereas the man sauntered like he had straws for legs. "Where are we going?" Gerard said casually.
"A place to have you questioned," established the symbolic silhouette of a man.
"Okay then," Gerard said lightly.
They arrived, and a man wearing a purple hat stared back at Gerard.
"Who?" both Gerard and the purple-hat man began to ask.
"Who are you?" they finished saying.
"I am Gerard."
"And I'm Boinky. What's your name?"
"Name?"
"Full one. Smith? Archer?"
"What?"
"I mean your class, your role, your station. You know? All that?"
"Oh... Oh! Oh..." Gerard's face cleared of emotion. "I don't have one."
"I see, I see. Then who the hell are you?"
"Uh, about that." Gerard gulped. "I was wondering if you'd tell me how I got here. I came from a land far away I think, and this place, this place doesn't look like home... to me, that is."
"I think we're having a misunderstanding. If you're not from here, or a person registered at all, then are you a spy? Are you someone working for the other kingdoms? Where are you from? Your accent and the way you're dressed. It does not seem like around here. Give me relevant information."
"Oh... about that. I also did not know there were spies or kingdoms or accents or dresses at all. I don't even know why I'm here. It's just strange that I'm here... is all."
"Really? Okay then. Put him inside until he is able to speak and think coherently."
"What?"
"Okay," shot the strictly dressed man next to Gerard, who instantly grabbed him and led him into a prison cell.
"W-why?" Gerard's voice creaked.
Ten hours later, his hunger drove him to think of tasting the walls. But he was not that far gone yet.
"Please..." he begged. "Water. Food. Give me again."
He was given a single piece of bread and some water, but it has been 9 hours since then.
They handed him another batch, this time with more.
He ate ravenously and messily.
Why was he even here?
"Okay," said the purple hat man the next time they met, this time wearing a red upper wear instead of a black one. "I think you staying here is expensing me too much. I'll let you leave, but if you're willing to tell me useful information, I have a single coin to offer."
"Okay, I... can't offer you anything. I have nothing. I don't know anything." Being physically depleted, Gerard could not think straight.
"Okay then." Boinky, the man, ordered the same strictly dressed man from earlier: "Let him be on his way now."
Gerard was pushed outside into the streets, where all kinds of poor people lived—cottagers, sellers, and mostly just peasants working day to day. As of this time, the streets here were relatively sparse with around 15 people in sight. The roads were dirt, and the buildings were wooden. This place felt like a shanty town, if anything.
He walked across the area like a dying man, looking for a place to stay. But he found nothing.
When he turned a corner, he noticed group of adventurers, and he decided to watch them, thinking of following them. They did not notice him for a while, but one of them coincidentally had his gaze pointed outward in thought, looking past the heads of his compatriots.
Gerard was recognized.
The man rushed to him. "Hey, are you the one we saved the other day?" He then called the rest of his team and shook Gerard while he was still staring back at the other members coming.
"How are you doing?" he asked.
Gerard could only respond with "I don't know."
"Did you get caught up in the entire questioning thing? I'm sorry you had to experience that. If you like, I can treat you with some food. I know you're hungry. You look... well... like it."
Gerard scanned his disheveled clothes and nodded. "Yeah." He returned the man's smile.
"You want?" asked the man.
"Sure," Gerard said firmly.
Gerard began eating, trying his best not to need to clean himself up. The food was noodles and saucy like spaghetti, but it tasted somewhat like Chinese lemon chicken. He did not how, but it might have been the scent. The taste and texture themselvesw ere complex, the former being like pork and the latter being like carbonara. He did not know how it worked, or maybe he was just that hungry that he started imagining things. "Thank you," he said blurted out. He digested one more chunk before turning his head sideways to see if they heard.
With all the laughter and jokes between them, they looked impossible to disturb.
Gerard didn't mind. He kept eating, licking the plate discretely with his mouth covered with his arm and back, turning to the side.
After he was done eating, he noticed one of the members beginning to cough.
He stopped to watch, checking to his sides for the reactions of the bystanders. Social norms were immediacies for him.
The people were unbothered, and the coughing soon stopped.
That's it? he thought. No harping, no complaint?
He looked to the distance, before searching for a clock and discovering none.
He thought for a moment, detaching himself from all this.
The silence loomed. The world slowed down. The streets went by. The people grazed. The noise stumbled onto itself.
He barely mouthed, "I can't remember."
Chapter 2
The adventurers turned their attention to him once they were outside. "So, wanna stay with us? You look weird, but I think you'll fit in just fine. I was hoping someone could help us with something." The man who got him on board in the first place was the one speaking. He paused, scanning my face for approval. Seeing that Gerard was hesitant, he pushed one more time, his head turned sideways, his eyes to the side, keeping the entire thing unimposing: "Wanna come? Wanna help?"
"Well..." Gerard said. "I can try. Sure."
"I'm Jeremiah," said the man. "What you feeling? Like the food?"
"Great. It was good. I think it was strange though. I've never eaten that kind of food before."
"You haven't? Well, now you have! We can try more if you're interested. But for now, let's head back to the lodgings."
"Lodgings?"
"Yeah. Anyway, excuse me. I'll speak to the rest of the guys. They're all happy to have you by the way."
He went over to the group. "Hey guys, it's official! "
"He's staying?" asked one of the younger members.
"Yep!" Jeremiah exclaimed.
Gerard watched on the side, a small distance away, a breeze travelling between him and the group.
"New lodger," said a figure from inside the lodgings after they went all the way.
"Yes!" Jeremiah said.
The figure's face briefly showed when he went to eye Gerard, a disgruntled and bothered expression, but not clear as to why.
Gerard entered last, watching the furniture and eying behind them.
He sat down discretely.
"Okay, this is where we're all sleeping," Jeremiah performed for Gerard's knowledge. "Have a good night guys."
"Good night," said the members one after another.
Gerard lay awake for only a short moment before falling asleep.
His eyes opened, hearing a faint groan.
He was the last one up.
It was already morning.
He looked around. That fast? he thought. It was as if he fast-travelled in time.
The lodgings themselves was an upper-floor room, and they had to go through the back of this large house.
"Okay," said Jeremiah after they arrived at an eatery. "How's the food this time?"
"Great," summarized Gerard.
"How about where you came from?" said a member of Jeremiah's group. It was one of the ones he had seen. No one new added to the group while he was asleep or during this journey to the eatery.
"I do not know exactly. I forgot."
"'Forgot'? Like you lost your way?"
"No, I forgot who I am, where I come from."
"I see..." the member spoke neutrally. "I'm Jared by the way, if you haven't heard from Miah."
"Miah? As in Jeremiah?"
"Uh-huh," Jared slowly said.
Jared did not force it, turning away and resuming a discussion with his closest friends in the group.
"So yeah... I was saying like how the hell is this guy even going to finish up before the meeting? Isn't he like late? Did he not get the funds late? That's what I was saying. That's why I was so mad when he didn't even look bothered at all. I mean, seriously."
Gerard tuned out for the most part, but having eaten his food and nothing else to do, he just let the background chatter occupy his mind.
After a while though, he did overhear certain recent events, specifically involving the deep forest he just escaped.
"I saw two of them! Like two of them roaming! And then one of them snatched the other back, and it was a whole ass fight. Crazy, right? I haven't even gotten my git up."
Git? Gerard thought.
After a while, Jeremiah went over to him, sitting on top of the side of the table itself.
"What do you want to do now? he said.
Gerard said, "Well... What? I mean, what do you mean?" He was confused whether Jeremiah meant "What do you want to do now?" or "What do you want to do now relative to me and the group?" or "What should you do now?"
"Well, what do you want? It can be anything. Tell me. It can even be impossible, if you're feeling like it."
"I... I don't know."
"Really. It can be anything."
"I..." Gerard looked at the rest of the group. He knew they were listening and pretending to look away and eat. "I just want to settle down. I don't know what's happening, so anything more would only make it harder to think. I need time to make sense of all this."
"But you do need to take care of yourself. I mean..." He showed him one gold coin. "You know what that is."
"Money."
"Money, that's right. And if you don't have that, you won't be able to get what you want: rest. That's what you want, right?"
"Yes. I do.
"I do want that.
"That is what I want."
"Really? Okay then." Jeremiah met the waiting eyes of his fellow adventurers. "We got a new member! His name is Gerard. Better keep that in mind when we're discussing battle plans."
"Got it," said one of the younger members, the same younger one who asked "He's staying?" late night.
"Great," Gerard said, going with the flow.
Death," he thought. I know death. What it's like. What it tastes like. The way the wind moves. The way the sky balances on its toes. The way it unfolds and converges on itself. Collapses on itself. Damns itself. The hatred. The sky—*
"Gerard," said the same younger member, while the others argued about a lock. "My name's Pocky."
"Hello," Gerard asserted, "it's nice to meet you."
"Great."
Great, Gerard thought dryly. I guess Jeremiah's the exception here.
They shared a perfunctory nod.
The rest of the day was a blur.
He went to this blacksmith, that store, and this other place and that other place.
He gradually grew listless.
The next morning, he woke up, getting up again.
The next 7 days was the same blur.
Then, when his eyes finally encountered a dungeon, he came to his senses. "Where are we?" he asked.
"Rolster Dungeon Complex," Jeremiah said.
He smiled tensely. "Okay. Here we go." He lit a torch and raised, waving it around only initially, before handing it over to Gerard. "Hold this." The rest of the members positioned behind corners, making sure that the path to the exit was secured.
Jeremiah raised his right hand, palm facing himself, his fingers and thumb pressed together. He made cuts at distinct points of the surface of his palm. "C1. C2. C3. And then C4."
A burst of blue flame emerged, enveloping his right hand. "Okay then." He pointed his hand out in front of him, his palm facing his right side, maintaining the position of his fingers. He shot a line of light from his hand, moving slower than an arrow. Once it hit the cave wall and rocks, nothing happened. "Good." When Gerard went to check the palm of his right hand, Jeremiah stopped him with his left. "Don't. The mana comes out from there, from the palm. It's toxic."
"Toxic?" Gerard asked.
"Yes..." Jeremiah furrowed his brows, never yielding his gaze to Gerard as was standard.
An arrow flew, emerging from the darkness in front of them.
Jeremiah shot the line of light at it.
The arrow stopped and fell. "Nice!"
Another arrow came, he aimed it and shot, missing, but shooting again immediately.
The black mana gas coming out of his right palm was growing in mass the more he shot beams of light. It was noiseless, went downward, and kept to a limited spread, resistant to air drafts.
The rest of the adventurers did nothing, keeping this defensive arrangement.
Gerard merely held the torch.
After Jeremiah shot beams of light at a few more arrows, the whole group left.
"Why cut it short?" was Gerard's first question.
"What do you mean? We didn't. That is what we do."
"Huh? Doing the thing with the arrows and then leaving?"
"No, not that. We do lots of things. I just wanted to test my new ability. Like it?"
"Wait, that was new? That's actually dangerous, isn't it? If you got hit..."
"I practiced. But yeah, we do lots of things. We train everything, practice everything, and demo everything. This is how we go. This is how we work. We test it all! We never do a full-fledged thing until we have done each chunk of each possible thing before all of it is put together to form our little squad. For the meantime, we're just a bunch of trainees."
"Really?"
"Uh-huh, uh-huh!"
"Okay. Makes sense. I thought you said 'battle'?"
"That's part of it. We test each detail that go into making it work, refining it until we get it right and then combining details more and more until we master the whole. And then, that's when we battle."
"Is that standard?"
"Yes. It is! Or at least, it should be! Some are powerful enough and unambitious enough to not need this kind of planning and preparation."
"Unambitious?"
"They don't want to take on big quests that push them further. Most of those who reach that level don't."
"Why?"
"We're workers, not monsters. Most of us are just people living day to day. What did you think we were?"
"I don't know. People who went and did the hardest things?"
"No. That's not it at all."
"99% of adventures just do their job and move on. Why work overtime when you're not paid proportionally? You're just doing more work for less pay. Risking your life and all that."
"Don't you?"
"Risk my life? Of course, but not to that degree. We're patient, you see. All of us. That is normal. That is how it works. If you can't do that, you're not fit to go in a life-or-death situation, because you're just an immature brat who hasn't seen the worst. This kind of blind optimism gets juveniles killed."
"Juveniles... How old do you have to be before you can go?"
"Adventuring? 10."
"10 only? As in 10 years old?"
"Yes. But that's because most of it isn't what you think. We're not constantly fighting. Most of it is just us gathering our things, putting things together, transporting it, cleaning it, maintaining it, practicing. We never just fight. That's stupid and unresourceful. We make the most out of what we have, which is time, space, resources, and training grounds. We don't just run into battle without a thought in mind. We're smarter than that. We all are."
"Okay. But how did you know?"
"What?"
"I feel like you've had this conversation before."
"Of course I have. Millions of times. Every time someone asks me about adventuring, and most people do, I tell them the same thing. Adventuring is not fun. It is very slow, methodical, and just a manner of waiting for the right moment. Never about risking your life. If there is a risk and a fair game, you failed. It should never be a fair game."
"Oh... I think I get it."
"I mean, you gotta do what you gotta do. If everyone died first thing, no one would be here to pick up the pieces."
"Died? So you're saying that people died, even with this."
"Yes. People have died, but it is almost because they missed a step and forgot to account for a detail, because they were rushing or dragging."
"Dragging? As in taking it too slowly?"
"No more like just not making full use of their time."
"I get it."
After filling themselves up at an eatery, they returned home.
Chapter 3
Jared watched Gerard's face, squinting curiously, but not maliciously.
When Gerard noticed, he smiled politely in response.
They were at the eatery again for breakfast.
Gerard raised his arm, noticing the leather pressed against his skin.
Pocky was blankly staring outward, before his gaze met Gerard's, and both locked on.
Jared and three other members closest to him picked up on this and observed, their faces partially covered behind chairs and tableware.
Gerard released his grip, diverting his line of sight.
Jared stood up and went to Jeremiah, who stared at Gerard the whole time Jared was whispering.
Gerard rested his chin on his palm, staring outward.
Pocky sat down next to him at the same table. "How're you?" he asked.
Gerard eyed Pocky's right hand creeping on the edge of the table, his face, and several of the members who were previously at the same table as Pocky. "Fine," he said.
"Why?" Gerard asked.
Pocky smiled perfunctorily. "I was wondering..."
"Yes?"
"Why did you join?"
Gerard covered his mouth and burped, saying "Excuse me." He then said, "Jeremiah said it. I just took what he said."
"Which one?"
"The one where he was talking about needing money for rest," Gerard said. Pocky did not answer immediately, letting the lull sit. "That is what I remember," Gerard continued.
"Okay. Where did you come from?"
"From? I come from..." Gerard's right thumb and middle finger found the outer ends of his brows, pressing inward across his forehead.
"I still don't remember," he said. He looked away, resting his chin and arms on the back of his chair.
The next dungeon visit was fast. It was another round of arrows and beams of light.
Gerard watched behind Jeremiah, checking behind him more, having caught them looking at him several times today, especially here and now in this dungeon complex while they were positioned behind the corners as was "standard."
But they were not saying anything.
After the training exercise ended, Gerard asked, "Jeremiah, what is my purpose here?"
"Purpose? To stay consistent."
"Consistent? In what?"
"Consistent in anything."
"Anything? But... are there not things you shouldn't keep doing? Like failing?"
"I mean consistent in the things you can do." He recited, "Do what you can."
"What can I do now? What should I do?"
"What you can. If you think this is not matching your pace, you can tell me. We can move on to the next stage."
"What do you mean 'next stage'?"
"Where we start taking things serious."
"What kind?"
"Well, you'll see. You had to be there, man."
"There?"
"We got a raid so quick they did not even notice. That was our biggest loot of the year."
"Year? You guys been doing this for a year?"
"Indeed we have," Jeremiah said. One of the members tapped him on the shoulder, grabbing a card from one of Jeremiah's pockets.
Jeremiah chuckled. "Wanna see?" He revealed the card. "This is an adventurer plate. It shows your rank. See! See!"
"I'm Rank Gold. That was only possible because of that loot.""
"That loot? You gave it away to get this?"
"No, no. We do have to give some of our money, but that loot was not just loot. It was the opening of the dungeon. This dungeon!"
"Wow. Wait, you opened all this?!"
"No, no. I opened only the Green part of it."
"Green?"
"Green Zone. It is the place where you can start trading around and stuff. I got Gold because of that."
"That only? How about the rest?"
"They got some too, but not Gold."
"Why only you, and why only Gold?"
Jeremiah stared, incredulous. "Why only Gold!" he exclaimed. "That's a really high rank!"
"How high?"
"1,000 goblins. Count that."
"That's how many you killed?"
"No. I only confirmed 100 in my three years of adventuring. But it was that loot that made me skip the rest of it."
"How about the others?"
"The others? I told you."
"I mean, did you... were they... did you do it alone?"
"No. But I...
"Leader's prerogative."
Gerard stuck his head from behind Jeremiah, peeking at the rest of the members, saying "Makes sense," before pulling back.
Jeremiah laughed out loud as the members shouted "Hey!"
Reaching the eatery, they filled themselves up. Afterwards, they went to the lodgings and slept.
The next day, they were sitting around the eatery when they noticed Gerard walking a little too far away. It had been the fourth time since the start of their time together that he asked to stand outside the eatery to get some fresh air.
But this time, Gerard walked to the distance.
Cassie, one of the members, walked up to him. She was followed by two others.
"Gerard," she and the two others said.
"My name," Gerard said.
"Yes. Why?" Cassie said, taking over.
"No, nothing, nevermind." He returned with them.
With Cassie drawing back, Jeremiah took back control and said, "Hey, if you need a break, just tell us."
Gerard stiffened. "What?"
"I thought you needed something new."
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, you clearly don't like us, right?"
"Why? How? When did I give off that impression?"
"Huh? But you're running off, and Jared told me you look angry, and you stared down Pocky."
"What? I'm just walking? How is that not liking you guys? I just wanted to walk a little bit, and then I would return as per usual. I know what time we leave and how long we eat already. I know that by now."
"But you still stared down Pocky."
"Who? How? When did I do that?"
"Yesterday."
"Yesterday? I don't even remember. If I did, I'm sorry, but the fact that I don't remember means that I'm just thinking half the time. I usually just shrug off things. It's not me not liking you guys. I don't get it. This is a non-issue."
"Okay." He looked at Jared. "I'm sorry." He looked at two other members. "We made a mistake." He looked again. "I made a mistake. I apologize."
Gerard compressed his lips. "I never knew this. Is this what you feel about me?"
"No. I thought you were angry."
"Why would I be?"
"I don't know. That's what I'm saying."
"I feel that we got off on the wrong foot. Perhaps, we can start over, just pretend that this is all just a misunderstanding, because it is."
"Okay. Sorry. Guys. Uh. My bad. Can we return to schedule? Reset? Today's rest day anyway, so we can go visit your mom, Lyka."
"Okay," Lyka, one of the members, said.
"How about you Cassie?"
They went on and on and arranged some things with each member.
As for Gerard, he just told them he would stand around here at the eatery until it was night, since he had nowhere else to go and stay and could only go to the lodgings at night to sleep.
Jeremiah did invite Gerard to accompany a portion of the group members since they were going around visiting. But Gerard said that he needed rest.
"Rest" was a key word between them, so Jeremiah honored his decision, informing him that they would meet him again for dinner.
Hanging outside the eatery building, Gerard listened to the sounds of the forest.
A voice drifted from nearby. "Enzo. Adventurer."
He turned his head, watching a guard let in a man wearing a full-fledged outfit.
A monster, Gerard thought.
The "full-fledged" man held a spear point-up butt-down, walking around as if lifting the air around him.
Gerard watched him discreetly and, if the man knew, politely. The discrete parts of the man formed a whole being. It felt like feasting on a man of war, a sun god returned to baseline earth and accepting offerings of the juiciest produce.
Yet Enzo was alone. Power was inherently charismatic, so his solitude struck Gerard as odd. Isolation was the self-improver's burden, so why would a man of his seeming rank maintain this privacy?
Gerard saw the power in numbers and did not see the benefit of a lack of community support, unless Enzo worked as a specialized agent who still received regular training, resources, information, and priority support from a larger guild that could finance special-case contracts that excepted him from the usual and released him from the typical stoppers.
Enzo sat down.
Gerard saw the god kneel.
...
Eventually, Enzo stood up. He went around.
But he did not enter the eatery, nor the smith, nor the store, nor anything Gerard had entered previously.
Instead, Enzo just walking, treating this entire street like a highway.
Gerard saw his form taper off into the distance and then fade away.
Time passed.
A growing number of things passed by.
Eventually, it stopped. He returned to his senses.
Jeremiah's form had met his eyes distinctly.
"Gerard," Jeremiah said. "Did you not do anything while we were gone?"
Gerard gave the familiar word. "Rest."
Jeremiah spoke after a moment, his voice soft. "Right."
The members arrived one by one, each bringing a story and some news of their own.
Upon reuniting, the shape of the group was cloaked in the evening light, their shifting contours suggesting movement and some dilly-dallying jolly talk.
Gerard watched the depressions and hills rapidly created and disassembled by their happy feet. The dirt never lay still, yet it held this pithy world.
After a while, Jeremiah clapped his hands together once, sharply. "Oy, mates, guys, let's be on our way, mates," he said purposefully, already heading to the eatery door.
Gerard was inside already, having sat down minutes before most of the members.
He watched the adventurers sit down one by one.
Jeremiah skirted a table, sitting next to Gerard. "Gerard," he said. "I spoke about the next stage. What do you intend on making of that information? I will consider helping you with anything you might need, but before that, tell me."
Gerard cast a quick, subtle glance at the others before leaning in slightly. "Information?" he murmured. "What is the next stage?"
"We will make more complex our exercise. I want you to see some of the things we do. What you saw was just a preliminary, something discarded, left to itself, but it was necessary. You saw it, and that alone sufficed. What other things we could have accomplished during your presence would only have complicated the process and, given what you have made so clear to us, your adjustment to this group."
"Noted... But what is the next stage?"
"Testing your basic weapon handling skills. But we're also going to observing here and there, so you can accompany us and observe us observing."
"Observing? What's that?"
"Basically just maintaining a presence."
"Adventurers do that? Why? Why not just build a wall?"
"It's not supposed to be efficient. It's supposed to be enough. Plus, we will always need manned walls. They have them even now. But if you were referring to places without walls that could use some fences or outposts or something like that, yeah, we could use some fortification."
"What do you mean? Why? Why do we need forfication? Are we under attack or something? I haven't seen a single monster around here. But you did say that the arrows were from goblins from the darkness."
"Yeah. I did. Anyway, the point is that we're just going to have you accompany us. Nothing's going to happen."
"I don't get it."
"I'll explain later."
Chapter 4
Gerard thought of rest. He visualized the connections passing through his mind.
Jeremiah observed him from a distance. "Boy, oh boy, that dude's pretty much out of it, huh," he said.
"No thanks to you," said Cassie. "You preached him with this 'rest' thing. You told us yourself. Rest's the reason he's even here in the first place. So why you complainin'?"
"Either manner, I'm pretty much stoked to have him on board. His antsies are pretty interest if you ask me. But that's about it..."
"Well, that's so good of you, ey, with all of that nonsense you've been speaking, I'd be stunned to have you callused about this matter, ey? But that's just the magic that rhymes, and you haven't been quite the bugger, haven't you? Always the type to relinquish the vows, have the nancy on the side, you little reliant little twag. By the first we've already guaranteed it, but you, oh the starter you, you've already had it all piled up, and now we gotta fix it again, by the time done, already so puffered up, little daizy that one."
"Okay, shush the language. Gerard ain't gonna understand ya."
Gerard turned away from them.
Later, observation began.
The trees swayed. Gerard's gaze travelled up the height of the trees, seraching for a figure in those far-off foliages, finally resting on the members' faces, his lips pressed into a thin, flat line.
But the rain was pouring.
Nevertheless, the members remained.
Gerard went over and said hi, smiling.
Having been one of the two members following behind Cassie during his walk-off, Crystal offered a quick "Hello," her eyes making only fleeting contact before moving on.
Gerard took that as a chance to sit back and relax, searching his mind again, focusing on the feeling of loss, revisiting the sensation of waking up in the grass, remembering being saved by the adventurers, but not knowing how it happened.
He went over to Jeremiah.
Jeremiah held up a hand, palm facing him.
To his members, he gave a single, slow pump of his thumb, held steady for a moment—a clear, unambiguous 'go ahead, exactly as planned.'
The team began to move across the field.
Angling his body forward for a better view, Gerard brought a knuckle up to brush against his mouth, contemplating the scene.
Nearby, a single drop plinked into a puddle, ripples spreading.
Feet crunched for drier, firmer patches. They stepped carefully, skirted the nearest puddle, and grabbed for the next spot. Crossing the muddy clearing, they ridded themselves of the worst of the mire.
Then, looking directly, Jeremiah handed Gerard a stick to hold, having asked Cassie to grab one from this place here and give it to him earlier. "Abbie!" he called, his eyes still fixed on Gerard.
"Take that as a weapon," he said, the words clipped and efficient, already looking slightly past him to the person he addressed. Abbie arrived beside him. "Did you get the pots? Bad? Good?" he asked.
Gerard looked up from the smooth wood, his brows knitting slightly. "What am I to do?" he asked, his voice quiet.
Jeremiah cocked his head while moving. "Practice." He reset his gaze, already picking his way down the muddy path. Abbie picked up the pace, marching alongside him, keeping abreast.
Gerard watched as the two faded in the distance, scanning around, looking for a clear shape.
He found it, jumping forward, avoiding the puddles, happening upon it like a lightning bolt. He grabbed it, placed it against his shoulder, and had its length parallel to his height.
It was a lying log.
He wanted to see if he could train with it.
He made it stand, and then he grabbed his stick off the ground and began lashing at it.
The log received his beatings, tough, secure, unbothered, exuding smugness.
He kicked at it, pushing himself more back than the log.
He fell, crashing against the forest floor, groaning.
Someone watched him.
...
The rain pattered heavily.
He got up. "What a waste."
He patted the dirt off him. But some of them stuck so well that he quit after removing what he could.
Wiped sweat. He stared down the mire. He stepped in, testing the ooze.
The sound of the rain was getting muffled in his ears, and his fingers were getting too wet. The day was heavier than it was earlier.
The path ahead blurred.
The voices of the adventurers were now distant echoes of another time.
30 minutes had passed.
He glanced far behind himself, looking toward where a lurker might have been, before scurrying down the muddy path.
The trees pointed where the adventurers should have been.
The banter and laughter that had been shielding him were now dead-silent.
...
Eventually, the adventurers returned, staring at him.
He looked like a man who had seen the world.
...
They began eating, watching Gerard, his face morose and listless.
Gerard glanced back at them.
They turned away.
"Gerard..." said one of the adventurers, keeping his volume out of Gerard's range.
"Yeah. What happened to him? Should we have brought him?"
"No, Miah said we had to see what became of him."
"Yeah. Right."
...
Gerard fell onto the bed.
He woke up.
The day came quickly.
He caught sight of Enzo right around 6 PM.
Enzo was wearing his usual outfit.
The distance shortened, and Gerard found himself asking.
"Excuse me."
Enzo turned to the speaker. "Hmm?" he asked.
"I'm Gerard. I want to help."
Enzo squinted before his gaze softened. "What?"
Gerard paused, scanning the vicinity for familiar faces. "Well, I can help you gather your resources or whatever you might need."
Enzo budged before stopping, hesitating. "Sure," he said, turned partially away, his eyes alternating between him and the street fanning out.
"Okay then. How do I register?"
"Register? Just go to the adventurer's guild. But if you're asking specifically for me, then you'll have to follow me. Right now."
"Okay."
Two men left in the night.
Close to two full weeks was the lifespan of his relationship with Jeremiah and, by extension, the group.
Gerard removed his shoes once he arrived at Enzo's lodgings.
Enzo took his seat, settling down, his hands resting calmly on his thighs.
With a steady gaze that held no malice, just fact, he stated, "Oh, you're going to have to pay. But yes, yes, I know you have nothing. You look like it too. But no matter. Let's just get this thing on the road."
A polite curve touched Gerard's lips as he inclined his head, his gaze steady. "So, what am I to do?"
Enzo leaned forward and made a non-sharp clap in a tiny way in front of his face, creating a prayer form with his hands which covered his nose and mouth, steepling his hands, before raising his arms up overhead to stretch loosely (not stiffly or incredibly satisfyingly) briefly, before returning down, slightly slouching, and after a few seconds, letting go of the shoulders that raised during the arm raise. "I will arrange a meeting with the dholes. I desire an audience with them, so clock in tomorrow at around 7 AM. If you're prepared, then double the points. We want to get going as quick as possible. The next event will surprise you, but don't worry. I have already made arrangements to have you filled in on the matter."
Gerard nodded.
After they slept, they got up.
Gerard looked around. Enzo was already packing his bags.
"Let's go. You're on time."
Enzo and Gerard hurried outside the estate.
Gerard saw a group of salakot-hatted people.
"Join them. Wear this." Enzo handed him a salakot.
"You'll want to make sure that it fits right, since I did not have it perfectly fitting." He pointed at one of the salakot-hatted members with a loose-fitting salakot. "See?"
He cycled his palms against each other in a slow, rotating motion. "Then, let us start."
He gave an offhand point at someone among the salakots. "Get Boinky on him immediately."
From the edge of the field, a person began walking upon hearing someone call for him, looking down, mostly just focused and routine and just going about their business, and then glancing routinely and then recognizing the person he was being ordered to guide, recognizing him. Brief surprise, but reaction was cut short. He then kept his composure, falling in line next to the person.
On Gerard's side, shocked silence. Not even trying to hide it, but not saying anything and just gazing at the person he just recognized, remaining still, not jolting, just stunned.
Boinky compressed his lips, keeping his chin up and straight forward, eying Gerard's shifting averted eyes.
"Okay then," Enzo said, pointing an L-shaped finger gesture in the air. "Briefing begins now."
Boinky turned to Gerard. "I will be the one filing you in," he said.
Gerard caught his own surprise and placed it down. "Okay," he said with several faint dips of the head. He then paused, showing his salakot. "How about this?"
"Don't need it yet. It's just a formality for now. You'll get used to it."
"You're not wearing?"
"Yes. I don't need it. I'm an official adventurer." He tapped his engraved helmet twice.
"Adventurer? I thought you were a guard?"
"No, but yes, I do take those jobs every now and then."
"Every now and then? Officials don't have their own retinue?"
"Yes. They don't have their own powerful retinue. Loyalty and power do not often come together. Money becomes priority then."
"Are you saying you're strong?"
"Yes, I am. I'm Gold."
"Gold? Rank?"
"Yup—"
Enzo interjected while everyone was hanging out and chatting, "Okay, the dholes are waiting for us. Let's leave now. We got 7 hours. But it will take approximately 2 to 3 hours, so we have lots of time to relax and prepare."
Boinky watched Enzo for a bit before he told Gerard, "Okay, after this, we're going to the next event which Enzo mentioned. It will involve the Two Towers, far-off places, much travel. So be prepared. It will involve thousands of people."
Gerard looked to the side, adopting a thinking pose. Then he locked on, eye-to-eye. "By the way," he said, "who was the man with you from before when you had me imprisoned? The one who woke me up."
Boinky nodded, already turning to the road as the entire Enzo group made their final preparations. "He was one of the men commissioned to help me do my job at the time."
"Do you know who the adventurers were? Jeremiah and the rest?"
"Yes. They did bring you there to the clinic. And I do know them. Jeremiah with the Green Zone, but I don't know the others. I don't think there were with him when he was celebrating and being awarded."
"They weren't? I thought I remember him saying that they were rewarded as well."
"Maybe they just asked for Jeremiah to show up."
"Probably... But who's Jeremiah?"
"Besides the Green Zone, I don't know. Our careers never overlap."
"How? You're an adventurer."
"What do you mean? Jeremiah's not an adventurer. He's a laborer. He works for the auxiliary part of the ranks. That's why he got Gold. Part of his job is exploration and opening paths for others, but in an auxiliary capacity. He is not a good fighter, by any means."
"Huh? He told me he was."
"Technically, he is, but technically, he isn't. He is much more properly an auxiliary."
"I don't get it. But okay."
Chapter 5
Gerard noticed Boinky staring at something. "A loud cloud," Boinky said.
"Hmm?" Gerard said, his eyes alternating between Boinky and Enzo who was up ahead.
"Yeah, we have one of those around here. No worries. It's just a cloud. Any more, and it'd be an elemental. But we've got that covered as well. One of our own has got a counter-spell."
"Spell?"
"Yes. It abruptly stops the elemental's momentum, specifically aimed at countering their charge-up spells. It'll take a while getting used to, but look at this way. Spell-spotters would kill to get a chance like that."
"Spell-spotters?"
"Yeah, them people fans of seeing all kinds of spells."
Gerard's pace faltered, his steps slowing until they were barely moving. "Really?"
"Yup."
Boinky stopped. He looked to his left.
A goblin threw a spear. It was camouflaged.
Boinky collapsed to his knees, the ballistic force stunning him, the tip piercing deep.
"What?" Boinky fell.
Gerard screamed at the top of his lungs.
The rest of Enzo's crew fanned out as more goblins shot all manner of spears, each warping forward, leaving faint crimson trails.
One. Two. Three. Four. Five.
The body count climbed.
Gerard ran in the heat of the ongoing smash of spells, his form barely evading massive collisions.
He left the road, disappearing at the forest edge, the foliage surrounding him.
The way to the road grew longer, and the forest grew denser.
Gerard stopped.
He went back.
By the time he reached the forest edge, a rock in hand, he raised his arm, moving slowly, keeping his aim.
A goblin came out.
He threw at it, missing. He grabbed another one, but it collided with him, stabbing at him.
He evaded it narrowly before pushing and kicking it, forcing his elbow against the side of its head. He used that same arm to grab the rock before hurling himself backward to push the goblin even with the knife because he disrupted its force. He smashed the rock backward at its head.
The goblin thrashed, convulsed, writhed, and flailed.
He dropped the rock down at it one final time.
Its knife-bearing arm was being pinned down by his sheer body weight, the blood flow to it reducing.
The goblin stopped moving.
He got up, bleeding.
Scattered empty bottles filled the scene.
The eyes turned over to him. Boinky's were the only one still.
Gerard covered his face and eyes.
One of the members added the last body on a pile of goblin corpses on the side of the road. She had a red ring staining his lips, just like the rest of the members. Gerard looked down again, seeing the red dregs clinging to the insides of the bottles.
Someone rushed over and forced into his hands a bottle. "Drink this now!" she said.
Bleeding heavily and about to collapse, he drank it all immediately.
Eyes darting down, he saw the bleeding stop dead. He scanned his body, then blinked slowly, taking it in. "What's this?" he murmured.
"Healing potion. You'll need it. Don't run away next time." He edged his head past Gerard's back, scanning his backtrail. "Wait, did you get one of them?"
"One goblin? Yes."
"Good work. Nevermind actually. Do run away if you can get the stragglers."
"Okay."
"Welp. Great then." Without a backward glance, she set off, her bare feet padding quickly over the packed earth.
She gave a little wince and abruptly turned around. "Sorry!" She paused, looking for his left hand. "I'm Joanna by the way!" She shook it. "Your name again?"
"Gerard," he said slowly, having his hand shaken.
Joanna gave a thumbs-up and made for an exit.
Gerard stopped, kneeled down, and grabbed his head.
Enzo's gaze cut through the layers of people, finding Gerard across the road.
...
Enzo grabbed Gerard. "Let's go," he said.
Gerard clumsily got up in the middle of the night.
His eyes pierced his as he asked, "Where are we going?" His gaze flickered down to his mud-caked feet.
"We don't have potions. So we need to head back. Plus, I need to warn about the goblins building up around this road. This was not reported before we left."
When they arrived back, he said at the adventurer's guild, "Goblin activity increased around"—he eyed a pinned map—"C49. Presence of at least two days to one week. Perhaps more if they secured a cave or blind spot we did not account for. Gear and tents are with us. Fourteen stacked bodies and more than half of the camp were left behind. Three to five retreated." He glanced at Gerard. "One straggler caught."
"Boinky also," said one of the crew members.
Enzo stiffened. "Right.
"One confirmed deceased. Name: Boinky."
"Noted," said the person at the front desk after filing the report. "Present gear and tents at acquisitions."
The crew sat down awkwardly.
Enzo handed Gerard several coins. "Go treat yourself."
Gerard nodded and left.
The streets were large.
A burst of laughter echoed from the corner.
He turned, but then he cocked his head right back.
Jeremiah's face hovered in the middle of all that laughter.
...
Gerard ate at a food stall, listening to the music played nearby at the town square. He was a long distance away from the eatery, separted by a convoluted maze of streets.
...
The next day, on Dross 18, the crew went out again. The local calendar tracked four long months, each sixty days: Vex, Kith, Qualm, and this final one, Dross.
And this time, they reached the dholes.
A human came out, greeting them, "Good afternoon. Are we prepared?"
Enzo nodded.
"Let's move forward."
Far up ahead, in the middle of the forest was a table. At it, the dholes all sat down and were dressed like human beings.
The human greeter stared, waiting.
One of the dholes gestured.
The greeter then motioned for Enzo's crew to move on.
The crew and the dholes came face to face.
The distances between them were so short, enough for a total rout.
The gaze of one of the dholes swept over them impersonally, like counting inventory, before he spoke. "Please sit down," he said.
Enzo sat first before the rest of the crew members did, and Gerard sat last.
One of the dholes eyed Gerard and flicked their eyes away, his gaze then resting on the tabletop, before gradually extending their arm sideways to tap their seatmate.
The seatmate, turned away, was conversing with someone else seated farther away. They raised a hand toward the tapping dhole.
Gerard glanced at Enzo, who imperceptibly nodded.
"Is the food?" Enzo said.
"Yes," said Dishes came in droves, overshadowing them.
A minute later, the seatmate from earlier turned around to face the poking dhole, brows raised.
The poker whispered. The seatmate mouthed, "Where?"
"Second to corner."
The other pointed with her eyes. "There?"
"Other side."
The other murmured, "The one not eating yet?"
"Yes."
Meanwhile, Gerard was just placing his hand on the table, touching the bamboo cutlery.
One of the crew members said, "Go ahead. Why? Is the food not?"
"No, no, I'm just getting used to it."