Chapter 216: I Don’t See A Coward

Donna’s stomach churned with anxiety. Screams and cries of her comrades echoed through the house. Sounds of shattered glass and splintered wood reverberated from behind the door.

What in Bellum’s name is happening!? she thought, panic seeping into her face.

“What’s happening?” Witt asked. He tried looking back at the door, but the ropes stopped him from moving from the chair.

“The guards?” Mel asked, hope slipping into his voice.

“Shut up!” Donna whispered angrily.

She pulled Witt’s blindfold back up to match Mel’s.

“If either one of you says one more word I won’t hesitate to stab you both a couple of times, am I clear?” Donna snarled.

Mel and Witt clenched their jaws, no words slipped out.

“Good,” Donna said. “Now, I’m going to go walk outside of this room, and when I get back if I find any of you had moved a single fucking inch you can say goodbye to your toes.”

The sounds from outside suddenly died out with a single and final gurgling scream.

The wood planks in the hall outside creaked as a single pair of footsteps walked towards them. Donna cursed under her breath and pulled out two daggers. She brought their sharp edges to Mel and Witt’s necks.

“Get the fuck back!” she yelled. “I have hostages! If you take another step I’ll slit their throats!”

The footsteps stopped, the house fell silent save for Donna’s own ragged breath and the pitter-patter of the rain. Her heartbeat thrummed loudly in her ears as if her heart was about to explode. She swallowed hard and stared at the door.

“You have one chance!” she yelled. “If you leave now I’ll let one of the hostages go!”

Dark shadows crept from underneath the door, from its sides, and above, like ink spreading on a white canvas. The shadows quickly encroached over the walls and threatened to overtake the room.

“W-what is this!?” Donna screamed hysterically.

She backed away from the shadows and dragged Mel and Witt towards the window. Black tendrils emerged from the darkness and edged towards her.

“GET BACK! I’ll fucking kill them!” Donna raised her dagger and aimed at Mel’s heart.

She gasped a hollow sound as a longsword slipped into her stomach and lifted her up in the air. She choked on dark red blood and wheezed for a single breath. Her daggers clattered to the ground and she tried to grasp the longsword’s edge with trembling fingers.

A pair of lilac eyes looked up at her from within the darkness, its slit pupils as thin as blades.

“An orc, I should have guessed,” a cold voice growled.

The longsword moved in the dark and dragged Donna through the air. The sword pierced the wall, leaving her body hanging like a skewered pig on a spit.

She tried mumblin, “...P-pleas-”

A hand shot out and gripped her jaw closed, clawed fingers tearing into her skin. The hand jerked her head to the side and exposed her neck. Donna winced in pain, small teeth sank into her throat. Her amber eyes widened, she could feel an unsettling warmth taking over her body. Her mind went numb and she lost consciousness.

~~~

Stryg drank down the orc’s blood with quick gulps. The orc hung still from the longsword, save for the occasional spasm. He had forgone dinner today to come to Karen’s aid. The dying orc seemed like a good enough snack to pass the time. He begrudgingly admitted that the orc’s blood was tastier than most.

Her body slowly grew cold, the blood drained from her veins. Stryg clamped his jaw tighter around her neck until his teeth sank straight through. He pulled back and tore away, chunks of flesh ripping apart. The orc’s head dangled off her shoulders, the rest of the body fell forward on the longsword, limp.

Stryg spat out the flesh and licked his bloody lips. His lilac eyes looked through the darkness as if it was a bright sunny afternoon. Mel and Witt were tied up to a pair of chairs. They were blindfolded and covered in bruises and small cuts, they looked terrified. A small puddle of urine pooled below Mel’s chair.

Stryg gritted his teeth, he should have killed those damn Rat Snakes much more slowly. He waved his hands in a subtle motion and released the shadow dome spell. The shadows receded from the room and fell back into his silhouette.

Stryg pulled out his longsword, Donna's body collapsed on the floor in a sprawl of limbs. He flicked his blade with small, precise cuts, slicing apart the ivlid weed bindings of Witt and Mel with ease.

Stryg recognized the bindings, the same material had been used by the poacher who had captured and brought him to Hollow Shade two years ago. The ivlid weed had seemed unbreakable back then. Stryg looked at his longsword with a newfound appreciation, Gian had truly gifted him a wonderful weapon.

“Please, don’t hurt us!” Witt flinched.

Mel trembled but tried to put on a brave face.

They hadn’t noticed, Stryg realized. “I just cut your bindings. It’s alright, the Rat Snakes are all dead.”

“Stryg?” Mel called out hesitantly.

“Stryg?” Witt frowned in confusion. “You’re here? How?”

“A child of Lunis was in danger,” Stryg said. “What other reason did I need?”

Mel’s small body shivered and heaved as he gasped and sputtered in tears. He broke down and cried, relief washing over him.

Stryg looked at the small goblin boy and felt a pang of sympathy, he was reminded of the little blue runt that had tried so hard to survive in the Blood Fang tribe.

“How bad are your injuries?” Stryg asked softly.

“I’ve had worse,” Witt lied with a grin. “The boy took the worst of it… They didn’t stop beating him...”

Stryg’s grip tightened around the sword. “Can you stand?”

“I think I can,” Witt stumbled to his feet.

Mel tried to stand, but his feet gave out. Stryg caught him by the shoulders before he fell in his own piss.

“I’m sorry,” Mel mumbled in shame.

“Don’t apologize,” Stryg said sternly. He didn’t need to hear another word. “Witt, go outside. Karen is waiting, she’ll patch you up and take you to Celica Skeller’s clinic. Celica’s an orc, one of the few I trust, and she’s a good healer. You’ll be in good hands. Go quickly, this building is on fire.”

For once Witt didn’t open his mouth. He simply nodded and limped his way out of the room.

Stryg ignored Mel’s wet pants, picked the boy up in his arms and carried him to a corner. He gently lowered Mel to the ground and pulled off his blindfold.

Mel looked up at him with trembling lips and wide yellow eyes, his slit pupils round as saucers. The boy’s eyes were red from tears, though there was still life in them. But there was also shame. Stryg recognized it clearly, the shame of being so exposed, your weaknesses as bright as day; the shame of feeling so unworthy.

Mel looked at his piss-stained clothes and the yellow wet spot on Stryg’s jacket, “I-I’m sorry!”

Stryg felt his throat grow tight. “I told you, don’t apologize.”

He stared back at his stained pants, “I tried to be like the heroes of Lunis you told us about. I tried, but I couldn’t… I’m not a Lunisian hero... I’m just a coward.”

Stryg said nothing, he simply placed his outstretched hand over Mel’s chest. A soft white glow emanated from his palm and filtered into the boy’s body.

Mel gasped sharply, “It…! It doesn’t hurt as much?”

“...Do you know how I found you?” Stryg asked. “It was one of your friends, a brave young girl a little younger than you. She risked her life and followed the gang to their hideout. She did it for you.”

“She’s just kind,” Mel mumbled.

“No, it’s more than that. She’s loyal. Every single one of those orphan children is loyal to you because they know you’d do anything to keep them safe. That kind of bravery inspires loyalty.”

“Bravery?” Mel asked softly, hesitance dripping from his voice.

Stryg nodded, “When the Snakes ambushed you all, you didn’t run, you didn’t abandon your tribemates and leave them for dead… No, you charged in first. When I look at you, I don’t see a coward. I see a chief willing to do whatever it takes to protect his tribe. And that, Mel, is heroic.”

Mel rubbed his eyes, he couldn’t help but cry. A small smile crept over his lips.

Stryg released the healing spell and offered Mel his hand, “Can you stand, chieftain?”

~~~

“Hurry up!” Rorik Polamtal shouted at his men.

The captain of the guard and his men ran down the dark streets of Hollow Shade.

“Sir, why are we running? Didn’t the goblin child say Mister Stryg needed us for clean-up?” his lieutenant asked.

“You don’t understand. Whenever Stryg is involved, things are bound to get out of control,” Rorik shook his head.

“Captain, there’s smoke coming from over there!” one of the guards pointed to the distance.

“We’re too late, we need to hurry!” Rorik yelled.

They crossed several more streets, the local sentinels shambling out of their way at the sight of the guard uniform.

Rorik and his men stumbled to a halt in front of a burning house. The guards stared at the scene with utter confusion. A dozen small goblin children were crying and huddling around a teenage goblin boy who was crying yet smiling. The temple acolyte, Karen, was tending to the wounds of a human wearing a stupid grin. Stryg stood away from the crowd, unharmed as usual Rorik suspected.

“What the fuck happened?” the lieutenant frowned.

~~~

Stryg watched the orphans hugging and crying with a bittersweet smile. He closed his eyes and let himself simply feel the wind brush over his skin. He found himself sorely missing the ashen trees of Vulture Woods.

For the first time in a very long time, he wished to see the Blood Fang tribe. He knew they must think him dead like the others he had abandoned in the lamia cave. If they only knew he was alive, what would they think? He was a mage now, but he was also an exile. Would they hate him? Shun him? Or perhaps, just maybe, they might finally accept him.

“As if,” he sighed bitterly.