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AN: Enjoy the cliffhanger :’3
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Chapter 2:
After those ‘hectic’ events (which were also short and sudden), afternoon and evening came and went silently. Simmons had slept through the day, mostly peaceful with only a few moments of restlessness. Whatever Lynus had given him allowed him some respite from his inner torment.
Not long after Lynus’ departure, Kerri and Tiffany practically stormed in. Kerri immediately, in her usual silence, drifted to Simmons’ room and stopped by his bed. She didn’t say or do anything other than to simply watch him for a few minutes. Kinda creepy in Rahas’ opinion, but Simmons was thankfully unperturbed, still sleeping. After a moment, she silently left the room, seeming satisfied with something.
Tiffany had asked what had happened in a forced, dismissive way, in a vain attempt to hide her actual concern for Simmons. The fact that she didn’t immediately use her usually loud voice was a clear sign of that.
That girl had some issues. Yes, he was allowed to say that. He had more than his fair share of issues, too.
The only issues he cared about at the moment was Simmons’. He could admit that to himself. He probably could even admit it to Shiki or Lynus.
The familiar clicking of claws against the hardwood flooring pulled Rahas from his thoughts. He rolled his head to the side, peering through the darkness at Farley. The blue-furred wolf stood by the couch, looking up at him with sad, pleading eyes. Rahas was a little surprised to find the wolf seeking him out, as he had little to do with Farley, other than watching as Simmons interrupt their training sessions to play with the energetic wolf.
He tensed when Farley reached up with a paw to rest on the edge of the couch. He then leaned up to rest his head on Rahas’ chest, much like he had done with Simmons.
Farley wanted to comfort and be comforted.
Rahas relaxed back into the couch and rested his hand on Farley’s head, idly dragging his fingers through his fur. “Yeah, I’m worried, too,” he murmured quietly, receiving a soft whine in response.
It wasn’t just him. Everyone was worried.
Yet, there was one thing that bothered Rahas the most;
Where did that whistle come from?
… … … … …
The creaking of a door startled Rahas out of a light sleep. He didn’t tense up though, thankfully, with Farley sleeping on his chest and stomach. Yes, the wolf had crawled onto the couch with him during the night and Rahas didn’t have the heart to push him off.
Forcing his eyes open, Rahas rolled his head to the side and through gradually clearing eyes, he watched as Gerald peeked into Simmons’ room. From what he knew, Gerald was always the first one up and the one to cook breakfast. He appeared like a shouty, grumpy guy who was constantly exasperated with his teammates, especially Simmons. But he actually doted on them constantly, again especially with Simmons.
Turning away from the door, seemingly satisfied, Gerald appeared startled when he laid eyes on Rahas. He had likely forgotten that Rahas had stayed overnight. Not a surprising reaction, as it was indeed the first time he had done so.
“Sleep alright?” he asked, arching an eyebrow upon seeing Farley curled up with him.
“As much as one could,” Rahas returned as he nudged said wolf lightly.
Farley didn’t want to budge at first, the lazy pup. But he perked up a second later, either recognising Gerald’s voice or scent, and lazily rolled off of the couch. He hit the floor with a light thud, but shook it off and trotted after Gerald.
Finally, Rahas could stretch his slightly aching limbs and wondered briefly if he should get up, too. The couch sure was comfortable, though.
“Did Simmons wake during the night?” Gerald asked him from the kitchen.
Deciding he should probably get up, Rahas threw back the blanket and raked a hand roughly through his hair in an attempt to comb it. “A couple of times, I think. He used that ointment that Lynus gave him and fell back to sleep.”
Gerald nodded his head as he idly began to prepare for breakfast. A light frown tugged at his lips, however. “Why that scar, though?”
So, Rahas wasn’t the only one who picked up on that. “Dunno,” he replied as he stood up and stretched.
“He didn’t say anything about it bothering him.”
“I don’t think the scar itself is the issue.” Though, Rahas couldn’t be sure of that. He hadn’t a clue what Lynus and Simmons talked about whenever he needed some medical treatment. “Simmons said something about headaches, so maybe the scar is just a good spot for him to rub the ointment on.”
Huh…he was hoping to reassure Gerald. First actual conversation with the guy, and he’s attempting (probably not very well) to comfort him. Maybe Lynus’ smothering tactics were starting to rub off on him.
Or maybe he was just getting protective.
“Besides, he slept fine after applying the ointment, so there’s nothing nefarious involved,” Rahas continued.
“I guess so…” Gerald was obviously still feeling fussy, so no amount of reassuring words would help.
He didn’t need to search for other things to say as Shiki had stepped from his bedroom. Much like Gerald had done, he peeked into Simmons’ room. But unlike him, he stepped into the room and was promptly heard greeting Simmons’ with a boisterous good morning.
Good, that meant Simmons was awake.
After a moment, the door opened fully and Shiki stepped out, with Simmons right behind him. Looking unfairly sheepish at that. Probably guilt about all the worry he had caused, even though it was completely unintentional on his part. Thankfully, he didn’t look as pale as he did yesterday, so the sleep and medicine did him some good.
As Simmons moved to follow his father into the kitchen, he briefly turned his gaze in his direction. And did a doubletake. His mouth dropped open ever so slightly in surprised. He obviously hadn’t expected to see him so early in the morning, let alone actually staying the night.
But a smile soon appeared on his lips. His smile wasn’t his usual carefree, goofy smiles. He looked…relieved. Honestly so.
Shiki slapped a hand against Simmons’ back, quickly gaining his attention. “Rahas here stayed the night. He was just soooo worried about you!”
Rahas instinctively bristled. “Shut it, old man!”
Shiki laughed as he gave Simmons another light pat. “Anyway, time for breakfast. You missed dinner last night, so you must be starving.”
“A little,” Simmons admitted.
“Then you two head to the kitchen, I gotta get the girls up.”
Shiki then turned away from the two of them and toward the third door down the hall, where Tiffany’s room must be. Simmons watched as his father walk away before he turned back to Rahas. He hesitated for a moment, likely musing about what to say to him, if anything.
“I…I’m sorry. For yesterday,” he finally said.
Rahas knew enough to know that being dismissive wasn’t exactly appropriate. “Don’t worry about it. I knew it wasn’t you.”
Simmons frowned lightly. “But, it-“
“No. It wasn’t you,” Rahas said firmly.
Again, Simmons gave him a look of surprise. That expression soon moulded into that of genuine relief as he smiled at him. “Thanks. For staying.”
“No problem.”
Shiki returning from Tiffany’s room, after banging on the door rather than walking in, prevented the two from saying anything else to each other. Which was fine, as they didn’t necessarily need to say anything else to each other for the time being. Simmons seemed satisfied with what they did say.
“Come on, let’s get something to eat,” Shiki encouraged as a clearly tired and haggard Tiffany staggered from her room, Kerri trailing silently behind her.
Rahas was then ushered toward the kitchen by Shiki and pushed down into a seat at the table. And Simmons was promptly sat in a chair next to him. After the chatter that was typical for those sat around a table to eat began. A plate of fried eggs, bacon, and toast was placed in front of him, a plate of food the same as everyone else’s.
“There’s no need to head into the labyrinth today, so let’s have a lazy day at home,” Shiki stated rather than suggested.
Yeah, it would be best if Simmons didn’t go into the labyrinth today. Rahas might on his own, though. He wanted to learn more about that damn whistle. Was it a natural sound? Simmons had said that he had endured “It” several times before, and it scared him each time. So, it had to be a natural occurrence.
And yet he couldn’t shake the feeling that it wasn’t.
“Lynus left you some more medicine. Don’t forget to take it after breakfast.”
“I won’t!”
Speaking of Lynus, he probably should head back to the inn to tell him how the night went. To save him from travelling all the way here. Though, he may already be on the way, that mother-hen.
He hoped he wasn’t, however. He wanted to ask him about that ointment he gave Simmons. Particularly, why did he have to rub it on his scar, of all places? Did he know something? He often spoke of dark spots in people’s auras and how they often led to silent aliments.
Did Simmons have a dark spot?
After he finished his breakfast, which was pretty good he had to admit, Rahas stretched his arms over his head as he shoved his seat away from the table. “Well, better go check in with the fuss-pot.”
“Will you be coming back?” Simmons immediately asked him.
“Dunno.” Rahas stood up. “Lynus will probably send me back with more medicine.”
Honestly, that medical bag of his was limitless. Just pulling out bottles of medicine as if a void of infinite medica was situated in that bag or something.
“Tell Lynus to wait until this afternoon to visit,” Shiki instructed. “He’s still in recovery himself.”
He’d be sure to tell him that, but it was uncertain whether he’d actually listen. Though, if he did send Rahas back with a bundle of medicine, that should satisfy his fussing tendencies. For a short while, at least.
Gerald also stood up as he began to clean up. “I need to go see Cass this morning. If I’m not back in half an hour, that idiot has blackmailed me into helping out at the bar.”
As Shiki laughed boisterously, Rahas turned to make his leave. He didn’t make any promises about returning, but he knew that he likely would. It wasn’t like he had anything better to do.
The trek to the inn was a thankfully uneventful one. Though, he had to admit he hadn’t taken this walk under the light of the rising sun. He usually snuck back into the inn under the cover at night, to prevent any confrontations on where he went or what he did.
Strolling into the inn, one of the first people he recognised happened to be the meek alchemist, Magnus. He appeared to be moving from the tea room, his arms wrapped around a leatherbound book. He glanced over toward him as well, just noticing him.
He then squeaked a sound of surprise and clutched the book together against his chest.
He didn’t run, however.
Whatever. Rahas didn’t think too much about his reactions toward him. He could never understand that guy, anyway.
“A-are you like the Dark Hunters of legend?”
That caused Rahas to stop dead in his tracks as his face creased into a look of sheer confusion. What the hell did that mean? Of course, he couldn’t necessarily ask him that in that manner. Not with the possibility of his Ronin, Shen, overhearing. Or worse, Lynus.
“What?”
Wordlessly, Magnus pulled the book away from his chest and presented the open pages toward him. Knowing it would be best (and far less troublesome) to entertain the blond, Rahas leaned forward to read the passages.
The Wild Dark Hunter
The Dark Hunters of legend were warriors who witnessed the harm and destruction of true innocence. They tread the path between dark and light. They used their skills within silence and secrecy. A self-code that they were unwaveringly loyal. They were not afraid to do the hard, often times dirty work. The work that the hearts of innocence should not be burdened with. They kept the balance within the laws of the lands. They hunt down, and eradicated, those who would target and harm the innocent. Those who sought to hurt others for their own gain, for their own pleasure, were the Dark Hunter’s sworn enemies.
They were the Karmic Balance.
That…
That resonated with him. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it. But something…something in that passage…
Karmic balance. Protecting the innocent. True innocence.
That was what he wanted to do with Lynus, for Lynus – he should have been the one to kill Taksony, freeing everyone from him. Not Lynus. Not caring, compassionate Lynus. He…shouldn’t have to carry that burden.
He…failed him.
“Rahas?”
The sound of Lynus’ voice pulled Rahas from his thoughts and prompted him to whip his head around to look at the stairs. Lynus was half-way down the steps, dressed in his purple poncho, his hand resting on the railing as he looked down at him with gently concerned eyes.
“Are you alright?” he immediately asked.
“Yeah,” Rahas instantly replied.
Of course, Lynus didn’t believe him and even Magnus regarded him with a curious tilt of his head. Thankfully, though while he continued to look at him with silent concern, he didn’t prod him further.
“How’s Simmons this morning?” he asked instead as he made his way down the stairs.
As Rahas began to explain, briefly, what had occurred during the night, his mind kept drifting towards that Dark Hunter legend. He had failed to protect Lynus from carrying a heavy burden. There wouldn’t be another chance where he would have to act to prevent another from such pains.
Would there?
… … … … …
Despite the morning hours, there were numerous explorers and locals alike loitering around the bar, already a couple of drinks deep into their visit. Not that Gerald was judging them. That was very much him just a few months ago. Drinking into oblivion, to try to forget, only to dwell miserably upon the past.
And repeat. Every morning. Every evening. Alcohol never worked. Only made things worse, but…it was better than nothing.
He hadn’t touched a single drop of alcohol since Shiki’s return. The withdrawals were painful, but child’s play compared to what Shiki had gone through…
“There you are!” Cass’ loud voice pulled Gerald from his thoughts, which he was thankful for. “Ere, some weird looking guy left you a note.”
Gerald immediately furrowed his brow as he headed to the bar. “Note?” He retrieved the folded note from the bar-keep. “‘Go to the northern outskirts of town. There will be a surprise for you there’.”
He resisted the urge to sigh. Surprise? Probably not a pleasant one. Especially since the scrawled smiley face at the bottom of the note appeared more condescending than playful.
“Eh, sounds dodgy to me,” Cass said as he arched an eyebrow. “You going?”
Gerald folded the note and placed it atop of the bar. It did sound as dodgy as shit. Probably someone looking for a fight. A fight with the drunkard from the fallen Nova guild. Though, he had to admit that he was curious. He knew that the surprised was unlikely to be pleasant, but he was interested to know which ignorant, rookie guild wanted to mess with him.
“I’ll swing by, but won’t go into the woods.” He pulled out his gun from his coat and re-checked his ammo supply. He always had two, in case the first jammed or broke in some way. He took his guns with him everywhere, for protection, but mostly to ease his paranoia.
Cass frowned, clearly not happy. “If yer ain’t back in fifteen minutes, I’m sending someone after you. If it is a guild, get their name and I’ll make their lives hell! Haw haw!”
Re-holstering his weapons, Gerald waved his hand dismissively over his shoulder, indicating that he had heard the rowdy barkeep.
As he walked through the crowds toward the northern side of town, he idlily trailed a fingertip along the handgrip of his gun. As suspicious as he was, he couldn’t help but feel puzzled, too. The northern side of town wasn’t exactly quiet and secluded. Not the best place to start a guild fight.
Although, it was close to the noble sector. They wouldn’t hesitate to look upon such guild nonsense with distain.
Gerald slipped his hand around his weapon as he rounded a bend that would allow him to look down a likely empty path leading into the rocky outcrop of scattered trees. But as he turned, stepping onto the path, he became still.
Something was lying in the middle of the path.
Gerald felt his heartrate increase violently as he squinted his eyes, attempting to get a better view of the…object on the ground. It was…human. And it looked like Lewis? A long-lost member of the Nova guild. Who had left in search of a missing Shiki. Who hadn’t returned from his mission.
No no, it couldn’t be him. It couldn’t…
It was.
“Lewis?!”
Momentarily forgetting the note, forgetting that he could be walking into a sick ambush, Gerald rushed forward and immediately dropped to his knees. Now that he was closer, he knew for certain that the man, curled up on his side with something covered in a thick blanket clutched to his chest, was his old teammate. He had grown older, but it was him.
It was him.
He had returned.
Gerald immediately placed his hands upon the man’s back, only to pull them away a moment later and looked down at them.
Blood.
A lot of blood.
He had been attacked. Violently.
A quiet groan prompted Gerald to immediately ignore the blood and focus on helping his old friend. To gently coax him into consciousness. “Lewis? Lewis, it’s me. It’s Gerald.”
Slowly, Lewis peeled open an eye, revealing a tired, bloodshot brown eye. “G…Gerald?”
“What happened? Who did this to you?”
Lewis unexpectedly gave him a tired, half smile. “Hah…you truly are alive.”
That absolutely caught Gerald off guard. Him? He thought that Lewis was dead! “What? Of course I am. What-?”
Lewis suddenly pushed the bundle of cloth toward him. He moved sharply, yet it appeared that it took all of his strength to move. “P-please…”
Gerald glanced down at the bundle, tensing sharply when it unexpectedly moved. He reached out and folded back a piece of the cloth, jumping once again when a pair of green eyes peered back at him.
A…a child?
Were they Lewis’s child?
“Please,” Lewis gasped, his voice hoarse and dry. “Protect Ghali…”
Ghali?
A looming shadow was all the warning he got before a blade, pristine and silver, appeared and…stabbed Lewis straight through his neck.
Instantly killing him.
Gerald’s blood went cold as his gaze followed along the blade, to the hand that held it. And to the man that stood over him. Loomed over him.
A man, dressed in robes similar of that of a war magus. Black tattoos spiral along his arms, and seemed to cover most of his exposed skin. With half of his head shaved, black hair in dreadlocks fell to one side. A tattoo, in the shape of an eye, was etched in the middle of his forehead. And on his cheek was a hideous, deformed scar.
But it was the twisted expression of utter malicious that made Gerald feel a sense of utter terror.
“That’s quite the expression,” the man stated, his voice harsh and cold, in contrast to the wickedness of his smile. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you were trying to seduce me.”
…What?
“I do so love seeing the utter despair on your face, Gerald. It’s more enticing than the one that bitch Sandra gave me.”
…Sandra?
No. No, it couldn’t be. He couldn’t be the one, could he? He…was the one that killed Sandra?
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