Kryos woke up at the sound of a loud crack as a door opened, slamming into a stone wall. He let out a hiss of pain as his bruised chest still panged with agony that bloomed up and made him fully alert. But, it wasn’t as bad as the pain he had felt in the Rift.
Marcella must have tended to him while he was sleeping, likely with some Skill, as he was able to take in some deep breaths and didn’t wince in pain every time, which told him the rib wasn’t broken anymore. Gingerly, he slid to the edge of the bed and got onto his feet. Pulling the curtain aside, he saw the back of someone who left the hospital. They had left behind a basket full of the odd bread.
Kryos glanced sideways, and saw Leona. She was already finishing getting her gear on and looked about to head out. “Hey,” Kryos said.
She looked up at him. “You’re awake.” Her voice was curt and direct, but not harsh. “See you later.” She got up, snagged a loaf of bread, and headed out of the hospital.
Kryos watched her go, and wanted to say something more, but didn’t know what to say after the events of the prior day. Instead, he looked at the ground and just took a few shallow breaths.
Tavan died because I was too slow, Kryos thought. I couldn’t get in the way of that monster, because I ran out of MP, and because I wasn’t sturdy enough to avoid being flung.
He looked up as he heard footsteps, and Marcella came in from her quarters. “Ah, you’re awake. Leona leave already?”
“You just missed her,” Kryos said sullenly.
She clicked her tongue. “Well, nothing for it.”
“What were her injuries?” Kyros asked.
Marcella walked over to him and gestured for him to get fully onto the bed. He acquiesced as she spoke. “Not much. She had a few lacerations on her upper leg, bruises on her lower leg of the opposite side, and a bit of bruising near the collarbone. Plus some torn ligaments. All of that is on rapid mend, she’ll be good as new by tonight.”
Kryos glanced down at his chest. “And me? I know I cracked a rib.”
“More than that,” Marcella replied. “You had two broken ribs, a torn rotator cuff in your shoulder, a dislocated wrist, plenty of lacerations and bruises—honestly, you were pretty battered. But, you’re sturdy, and a lot bulkier since the last time you were in here.” She pulled a small notebook from her pocket and her voice accelerated as she sounded very intrigued. “I measured your muscle density and it’s increased substantially. Did you do something with a Trait that changed that? Is that how all Half-Dragons change?”
Kryos mumbled, “My Species Trait.”
“Can you tell me more?” Marcella asked, fervent in her desire to probe him for more information.
Kryos sat up, letting out a little hiss of pain. “Sorry,” he said. “Can you tell me what’s going to happen with . . . there’s no body.”
Marcella froze, and her entire demeanor shifted to more bedside-manner focused as she seemed to remember herself and put away her notepad. “Well, normally the Adventuring Guild will hold some type of memorial. The leader will say a few words, and sometimes those who were with the deceased will want to speak.”
Kryos went quiet at that. What would I say? he thought. What could I say about him? He was smart, seemed really nice and like someone I would’ve wanted to be friends with? I barely knew him.
That part was the most visceral gut-punch emotionally—Kryos’ had seen and not been able to save a near-total stranger. He had known Tavan less than four hours.
Marcella must have picked up on his renewed sense of guilt, as she put a hand on his hip and gave him a pat. “Hey, listen. Irontrail members aren’t strangers to loss. Rifts are hazardous. He answered the call: that’s always a risk. He could’ve rejected it. I’m sure you tried your best.”
Kryos looked down at her. “My best wasn’t good enough.”
“I’m sure you did all you could,” she replied. “Now, my Skills are not like a Mender’s. I don’t do rapid, fast HP healing. Mine are focused around accelerating your body’s natural rate of mending. So, you’ll heal up throughout today and should be right as rain by tomorrow. Come back anytime you need help.”
“Thanks. Can I take some bread with me?”
“Go ahead.”
Kryos got up, put on his clothes: his white shirt which was now stained a light purple from his washed-out blood, and dark brown pants. He grabbed a piece of the bread, and with a backward wave to Marcella, he left the hospital.
As he walked through the town center, his treasure sense ticked off again. The heat in his chest went off in all directions, but he was able to more readily discern directions and severity of warmth—he attributed that to differing amounts of wealth or increased value of items.
People seemed to react differently in the morning light. He passed by a group of children who looked at him with looks of awe, and one of them got within arm’s reach and waved. “‘Scuse me!”
Kryos paused and looked at him. “Hmm?”
“What are you?”
Kryos chuckled, the little bit of interest from a child breaking the glum mood for a brief moment. “I’m a half-dragon. What are you?”
The girl puffed out her chest and proudly declared. “Darkling!” Her red eyes were beaming with pride. “We can see in the dark!”
“I bet you can,” Kryos replied, humoring her.
Then, a parent—matching the child almost exactly—rushed from a nearby house and hurried them away, looking at Kryos with distrust.
Kryos kept moving. The townsfolk were still responding with very mixed signals to his presence, though the responses were stronger. A handful gave him waves and even shouted thanks for helping with the mine incident. Some looked at him with open scorn, scowls on their faces—though none went so far as to throw something at him. Both reactions were telling him one truth: in the two days he had been there, word had spread of his one deed and presence.
He had no clue if opinions would change once word of the Rift got out. Marcella seemed like a talkative person, and so Kryos figured news would spread sooner rather than later.
He reached the section of houses where Gary lived, and knew the man worked a night shift. It was mid-morning, so he presumed the man would still be awake, and Kryos needed to get out of his own head for a little while. And, he had questions about what he had felt earlier in the Rift. He headed over to the door and knocked a few times before stepping back.
The door was opened by the man’s wife, Yessa. She softly smiled. “Ah, hello! Kryos, right?”
“That’s right,” Kryos replied. He had to lean down a bit, given the height of the door frame, so he could make eye contact with her. He could see into the room behind her—the place seemed cozy and warm, with a large rug, fireplace that was currently empty, a circular table with four chairs and wooden plates set up, and some cushions with a book between them, piled with books. “Is Gary here?”
“He is. He’s just wrapping up his bath. Would you like to come in and wait?”
“If it’s not too much trouble,” Kryos replied.
Yessa stepped aside and gestured for him to enter. Once Kryos was inside he could stand to his full height with a few inches of clearance, but he had to tilt his head sideways to prevent his horns from scraping against support beams. She gestured to the cushions. “Those are quite comfy. Please, go ahead. I’ve got tea brewing up.”
“Again, my thanks,” Kryos said as he dipped his head, and then sat down on the large cushion. It was very squishy and comfortable, and he sank into it, feeling the fluff inside squeeze to its limits against the fabric due to his weight. Thinking better of it, and not wanting to burst it, he stood up and elected to sit in the chair at the table.
After a few minutes of silently contemplating the wood grain of the table and trying to trace a pattern to distract himself from thinking about the prior day’s calamitous events, Yessa returned with a kettle and a few cups. “Oh, not to your liking?”
“I didn’t want to break it,” Kryos replied with a wry, taut smile. “I’m pretty heavy.”
“I’d imagine,” she replied with a soft laugh. “You look hefty. Must be handy for an Adventurer though.”
“It is for my role as an Anchor,” Kryos replied. Yessa sat down in a chair opposite him, and he figured she would be someone good to ask while waiting for Gary. “I . . . I grew up rather sheltered, and something happened yesterday I don’t know how to quite place. I know that Gary and you are married, and I was going to ask Gary, but do you mind me asking you?”
“Asking me what?” Yessa replied as she poured out two cups of the tea and pushed one in front of him.
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“I . . . there was a moment yesterday, in a Rift, where I was with a female companion of mine. Leona. She’s a sea-elf—”
“Half sea-elf,” Yessa said with a grin. “I am familiar. She has a bit of a reputation as a prickly personality.”
“Well, erm . . . our Mender was . . . incapacitated temporarily, and we had to tend to one another for first aid, which required removing our armor and clothes.” Kryos took in a breath, and was quite thankful that the conversation at hand was distracting him from the horrible event at the end of the Rift. “When I was helping with treating her, I felt a fluttering feeling in my chest, and it became a warmth.”
Yessa barely contained a giggle behind a sip of tea. She swallowed it, then raised her hand and let out a guffaw.
Kryos couldn’t help but blush in flustered embarrassment at not being in the know on whatever he was missing out on.
“What’s so funny?” Gary said as he came into the room, dressed in shorts and a shirt and drying his hair with a towel. “Oh, hi Kryos. How you doing?”
“As well as I can,” Kryos replied. “I was asking your wife a question.”
Yessa turned to Gary and practically blurted, “Kryos doesn’t know anything about—” she giggled again and stood up, went over to Gary, and whispered something to him. Kryos couldn’t hear it.
Gary chuckled, then laughed, but calmed his mirth. “Okay, darling, don’t make him feel worse.” Gary came over to the table, slung the towel over his shoulders, and poured himself a cup of tea. “You are from a really sheltered place, eh, Kryos?”
“Quite,” he replied, taking a sip of his mug. “My mom is a dragon, after all. I wasn’t raised around people. I was fairly isolated.”
Gary sighed and looked at Yessa, who had recovered from her giggle fits and sat back down. “Kryos, you, I think, felt some level of attraction to your companion. Did . . .” he cackled then calmed again. “Did your parents ever have the talk with you?”
Kryos practically balked at that. “Of course. My dad was a renowned Maestro. Half of his stories were about bawdy conquests. I am aware of how mating works in practice.”
Yessa giggled and stood up, walked away from the table, and into another room where she laughed quite loudly before shutting a door which muted the sound.
Gary let out a chuckle. “Well, you know of that sensation, I’m sure.” He leaned forward and took another sip of his tea. “I think what you felt, at least what you describe, was an attraction to this young lady. Maybe not quite love, but definitely the beginning of an affection.”
Kryos nodded and sipped his tea, feeling the embarrassment fade. He understood, now, why Yessa had laughed as much as she had—for someone who grew up in a town with social interaction, it must have been very funny to see someone struggle to understand the concept Gary described.
I know what love is, Kryos thought. I saw mom and dad all the time back home. The little touches here and there, the words of affection, the small presents, the jokes and laughs and all of that. I just didn’t know there was a physical sensation tied to the beginning of the emotion. None of dad’s stories ever mentioned it. It always came off as more grandiose.
Gary continued, “I would just keep things casual, if I were in your shoes. Just do what you’re doing, y’know? I mean, with Yessa, we met here in town about twenty years ago when it was fairly recently established. She was bartending, and I went in after a shift for a drink. We talked, joked, and I felt a similar fluttering feeling that she said you described. I kept going back every night, kept talking to her, and eventually we, as you put it, ‘mated’.” He cracked a smile. “Stars above, no one I know has referred to it like that. Having a dragon as a parent must have skewed your perspective of things.”
Kryos nodded and drained the last of his tea. “Well, I got my answer. Keep doing what I’m doing. Adventuring, Quests, Rifts, and trying to do them with this lady. We do work well together, so I can see it naturally panning out that way.” He stood up and bowed at the waist, then stood up and was about to say something else, but instead said, “Ouch!” as his horn slammed into a support beam.
Gary chuckled. “Watch your head.”
Kryos had to yank his head forward to get his horn free. “Thank you for advising me on these items. And please thank your wife for the advice and the tea.”
Gary stood up. “You’re always welcome to visit. Mid-mornings are great: right after my shift is the best time. After my cup and a bit of reading I hit the hay.” He gestured to the door. “Take care.”
Kryos took the hint, nodded and departed. The door was shut behind him, and he let out a sigh. Getting out of his head and forgetting about the events of the day prior was nice, and now he had a lot to digest mentally on his walk back to the Irontrail. As he continued, he pondered Gary’s words.
Leona was alluring, but Kryos didn’t know if she had any type of intrigue towards him in that way. He did find her very attractive, and felt protective of her back in the Rift—though he attributed that mostly to the fact that it was his role as an Anchor and it was expected of him. Still . . . as he thought of her while he walked, that fluttering in his chest returned.
But then the circumstances which led to him seeing her in that way brought Kryos back to the harsh truth of the Rift’s conclusion.
The last quarter-mile of Kryos’ journey was spent in sullen silence as he listened to the whispering of the wind, the chirping of birds, and the faint, far-off sound of livestock in fields. The Irontrail’s gates were open, and Kryos walked through and opened the door to the Guild Hall proper.
Eyes turned to look. Kryos stopped in the doorway, met the gazes, and mumbled, “Sorry.” He didn’t know what else to say. No one said anything in response. They returned to their muffled conversations.
Pavish, who had been talking to another Adventurer, stood up, and walked over to Kryos. “You patched up?”
“I am,” Kryos replied. “When is . . . Marcella told me there would be a memorial?”
“This evening,” Pavish replied. “Come over with me.” He kept a hand on Kryos’ forearm and pulled him over to an empty table, pointed to a chair, and sat opposite Kryos. “Now. Talk. I want you to tell me about every Chamber.”
“Why?” Kryos asked. “What’s the point?”
Pavish’s face hardened. “I am an Anchor as well. If you were a Breaker or Mender, I’d have you sit down with a more experienced one. After your first Rift, whether another Adventurer died or not, you debrief. You talk it out. I help you figure out what was done well, what went wrong, and what to do next time.” His face softened, and he patted Kryos’ leg under the table. “Come on, foundling. Trust me . . . it helps. I lost my first Breaker in my first Rift. I’ve been in your shoes,” he glanced under the table, “figuratively speaking. Knowing what you could have done can help with the thinking on it.”
Kryos took a breath and nodded. “Where do we start?”
After a few hours of back and forth, which mostly consisted of Kryos talking, Pavish peppering in a few questions, and then after receiving Kryos’ answers, commenting on what was good, bad, and how to improve, they reached the parts about the final Chamber. Kryos finished recounting the last of it, and Pavish looked down at the table, a look of deep thought on his face.
“Given what you’ve told me,” the older Anchor said, “and based upon your Skills and Traits . . . I honestly don’t think there’s more you could have done. Tavan positioned himself poorly. Sure, you could’ve been flicker-Toggling your Pressure Field on and off as the ripples approached, but that takes a lot of tactical acumen. As a first-timer, I doubt you would be that capable.”
Kryos felt like a burden had been lifted off of his shoulders. He still felt horrible that Tavan had died, but knowing that throughout the Rift he had done a pretty darned good job—minus some missteps which he had now learned from—was reassuring. “Thank you,” he solemnly said. “You were right . . . this has helped a lot.”
Pavish curtly nodded and got up, patting Kryos’ shoulder. “It’s evening. Come on outside, foundling. We’ll have the memorial. If you want, you can say a few words.”
Kryos stood up and followed the man. He hadn’t noticed other Adventurers had departed in the interim of his conversation, and as he exited the building, and was led around the outside of the building, he realized why.
Behind the Irontrail Guild Hall, in what Kryos equated to a back lot, was a graveyard. There were a handful of graves with stone markers—long, granite rods with names vertically etched into them along with their role. But, there were far more rods without graves, spaced closer together.
The other Adventurers were there—some of them, not all of them, Leona included—and their chattering ceased as Pavish cleared his throat. “Gather up, take your places.” He then turned to Kryos and whispered, “Near the back so you don’t block anyone’s sight.”
Kryos nodded and did as he was told. Pavish departed briefly, and Kryos maneuevered to the back of the group of arrayed individuals who stood in solemn silence before the graveyard, backs to the Guild Hall. Pavish returned a moment later, holding a granite rod. He walked over to the other rods, and with a mallet, hammered the stone pillar home.
He then turned to the gathered individuals. “Tavan Yardroga of Shhiv’s Spear, Mender, perished in a Rift. He answered the call and paid the ultimate price. He knew the risks, and went anyways, to prevent monsters from pouring out into Vorunor and threatening the innocent. We remember him always, as we do all who perish in the line of duty.” He raised a hand to his chest, placing his palm flat against his breast, and raised his other hand up to the sky, fingers extended and splayed wide. “May the stars find him safely, and guide him across the infinite dark into the realm of the celestials.”
The other Adventurers mimicked the man’s movements, and Kryos followed along. They all said the same phrase aloud, though in a disjointed jumble, and Kryos tried to add his voice, but couldn’t find the will to power to do so.
Pavish lowered his arm and then took a few steps to his left. “Leona, do you wish to speak?”
She walked forward and faced the gathered group. Kryos could see her firm expression and taut lips, but her voice trembled ever-so-slightly. “Tavan protected and healed me. Without him, I would have died. I carry on his memory, now and forever, in the scars I bear.” She then stepped aside and joined Pavish.
The man then looked at Kryos. “Kryos, do you wish to speak?”
Kryos swallowed down his discomfort and stepped forward, knowing it was the right thing to do. He walked over to where the other two had been standing, and took a deep breath. “Tavan . . . he guarded me from harm. He cured my wounds. I . . . despite the short hours, I felt that we might have become fast friends.” He made sure to make eye contact with each other Adventurer, and then looked over at Pavish, and finally, Leona as he said, “I carry on his memory, now and forever, in the name of the people I protect.” He then stepped aside, opposite Pavish.
Pavish cleared his throat. “As one, we guard Vorunor. As one, we fight to keep the innocent safe. As one, we stop Rifts and the monsters that lurk within. We serve the will of the Quest Conclave, and remember those who fall.” He stomped his foot once. “Dismissed.”
The Adventurers left, and Pavish patted Kryos’ shoulder. “Good words.” He then looked at Leona. “You too.” Then, Pavish followed the other Adventurers.
Kryos turned to follow, but stopped as Leona tugged on his shirt. “Wait a second,” she said.
“Of course,” Kryos replied, staying put as the others cleared out. The sun had fully set and the moon was still rising, leaving the two of them in a dim-lit twilight.
Leona shifted her footing and crossed her arms over her chest. “I . . . I was harsh on you earlier. I blamed it all on you for being too slow.”
Kryos didn’t respond, but just mimicked her stance.
She continued after a brief pause. “I debriefed like you did, and there’s things I could have done better.” Leona then frowned. “And I overheard Pavish’s comments towards the end there. You did all you could, that’s all any of us could ask for.”
“Thanks,” Kryos replied. He looked at Tavan’s grave marker.
Leona followed his gaze.
Silence dominated the space between them for a few minutes, as they were both lost in their own thoughts. Kryos knew that he had learned from that Rift and subsequent conversation with Pavish. He just wished the cost of the lesson wasn’t what it was.
Leona broke the silence and nudged his shoulder. “Plan on taking a Quest soon?”