Daisuke looks at him as if he was crazy, turning away from us. G. shrugs his shoulders. “I hope that David’s little stunt about hiding the truth didn’t make you turn against him,” G. says, moving along to another conversation. “Though I can’t condone his actions, all he wanted to do was prove himself. I tell him that he doesn’t have to, but will he listen to me?” He shakes his head. “Now, thanks to his lies, he has to prove himself. Funny how that works.”
“I don’t hate him,” I answer. “But I can’t ignore how bad that was.”
G. nods. “Trust is the foundation of a strong team. During the last month, everyone’s trust has been walking a narrow line. Anything could lead us astray. David knew better than to lie. He deserves some ridicule for his actions.”
I have to admit that I’m surprised. With the two of them being so close, I would’ve thought that he would’ve defended his friend from anyone’s criticism. The fact that he agrees with everyone else is a welcome surprise. I expect us to both relax in the steady current and let the stream to do all the talking, but he has more to say.
“You know, you handled yourself pretty well with those bandits,” G. admits. “I’m impressed. Your training is paying off.”
This sudden praise brings a smile to my face. “I guess so,” I reply, unable to say anything more.
“Still, there is something I’m concerned about. Why are you working so hard?”
“What?” I ask, my smile fading.
“You were the first one to agree to the practices when I suggested them. The only reason they happened at all was because you wanted to train. Everyone else would’ve passed the opportunity, but you didn’t. You were eager to improve. Why?”
My answer is clear, but I don’t know if I should say it. How open should I be about this? He told me some personal business about himself and David. The least I can do is give him that same courtesy. While I sit in indecision, he asks, “Is it the griffins?”
Hearing their name aloud makes my body shudder. “Yes,” I admit with a gasped breath.
“Thought so.” He doesn’t smile at this discovery. Instead, his eyes meet mine with a stern seriousness. “You aren’t the only one that can’t forget.” My eyebrows raise at him in doubt, but he doesn’t back down from his statement.
“Then why does everyone ignore the topic?” Despite the horrors that we witnessed, the tragedy is referenced little, if at all. If they can’t forget, why don’t they mention what happened?
“Sometimes,” G. replies, his stern tone wavering. “People hope that if they don’t talk about it, everything will go away.”
“But it won’t,” I reply, knowing how many times that night comes back to mind. “It doesn’t work that way.”
“Does it?” he asks.
I begin to argue, but the words don’t reach my tongue. All of a sudden, a thought comes to mind, and it obliterates anything I wanted to say. The void within my head takes my full attention. Gazing at the shadows beneath the dark water, I wonder, Is that how I forgot everything? It is a ludicrous idea, but what if G. is right? Can someone forget all they know by avoiding the information?
My stomach tightens with an even darker realization. If such a thing is possible, did I want to forget everything? My head throbs. No, that can’t be the reason. What is the point of my journey if I was the reason that I lost my memories to begin with? “How can you be so sure?” I stammer.
“I’m not, but it’s a hunch. Take David, for instance. He doesn’t talk to anyone about his past, despite the hardship he faced. Even though I can talk to him about it, he refuses to bring it up. I may have some issues with his methods of coping, but it’s working. He made tremendous strides forward compared to where he could be. If he hadn’t, I wouldn’t allow him to keep putting himself in danger. That isn’t healthy.”
I can’t say anything. Have I approached life all wrong? How did such a simple conversation turn my life upside down?
“Still,” G. assures me, “that doesn’t mean that it’s wrong to remember tragedy. It pushed you to improve, right?” I nod. “And if you keep improving. Who knows? Perhaps you can help prevent such tragedies from happening to those around you.”
G. climbs out of the water, concluding, “I think I’m going after David. He doesn’t need to be alone for too long.” Gesturing to Daisuke, he asks, “Could you take him back to camp?” I nod, trying to process everything he said. “Don’t look so serious. Ol’ Daisuke won’t escape. Will you?” He cuts a sharp glare in our captive’s direction.
“What’s the point of trying?” he spits, shaking his tied hands.
“Just keep that in mind,” G. replies, sliding into his leather armor. “Hey, Felix,” he adds, flashing a grin at me. “Don’t overthink things.” He throws his spear over his shoulder and walks into the forest, leaving Daisuke and me alone. For a time, I rest in the water, trying to calm my thoughts, but it isn’t so easy this time.
Desperate, I try being a little more like David. Ducking my head underwater, I close my eyes, hold my breath, and let the slow-moving water wash away the last of the worries trying to cling to me. To my surprise, it works. That watery void grows distant in my head, but I know that it’s there. It will continue being a mockery of my condition, but for the moment, I can deal with it. When I pop my head out from the water, I feel like a new man, as G. would say.
Turning around, I find Daisuke glaring at me. I wonder if I should talk to him or not. He doesn’t seem interested, but if we’re stuck together, the least I can do is try. “Are you sure you don’t want to get in?” He shoots a glare back. “Do you think the girls are finished?” His glare doesn’t change. “Maybe they are.” I climb out of the river, shaking the water out of my hair. My underclothes drip dry at a surprising speed. “Huh. Cool.” I put my clothes and armor back on, glad to see my stats returning. Picking up the vine rope, I suggest, “Let’s go rejoin the others.”
We walk in silence. I’m surprised that Daisuke isn’t trying to escape. There’s only one of me, and he’s a guide. He could get away from me with ease, but he stays in step, not even pulling on the vine. All of a sudden, an idea strikes me. Could this have to do with the bandits? Glancing out the corner of my eye, I see the tiniest hint of fear in his expression. He’s scared, I realize. It’s not hard to see why. Based on what he saw that day, I could be a savage killer, just like Zero and G. I’m not sure if I like that or not. Besides, I’m weaker than both of them. After the battle with the bandits, my current level is 15, while they must be at least ten levels above me. Either way, it’ll keep him from trying anything crazy.
When the girls’ voices become louder, I wait behind a tree, not wanting to walk up on them too soon. “Is it safe to come back?” I call.
There is a brief pause. “Yes,” Harva answers.
I step out, with Daisuke behind me, only for a scream to greet me. Before I can cover my eyes, I see Queen throwing her hands over her clothed body, shrieking with a smile, “You beast. How dare you?” She laughs until she’s lying on her back. Everyone is back in their armor, seeming to have dried off quickly.
“Queen,” Harva groans, unamused by Queen’s joke. The little girl sits with her feet still in the water. Looking at Harva, I cock my head to the side, surprised at how long her drying hair is.
“Feel better?” I ask.
“Yes,” she answers. “I can’t remember the last time I had a real bath.”
The only one left in the water is Maris. She lays in the current with her hair floating on the surface. The stream flows by her, but she stays in place. Her eyes remain half-closed, legs and arms spread out as if she didn’t have a care in the world. Perhaps this is her way of clearing her head.
“Felix,” Aurora calls by the riverside, grabbing my attention. My throat constricts in a tense gulp. “Have a seat.” I already know where this is going. “Let me take a look at your injuries.” I wince, not looking forward to what will happen next. Zero and I have trained every night. It’s natural for
me to receive wounds, but only bruises remain after a night’s sleep. A little soreness is as bad as it gets. Still, the number of bruises might look a little concerning.
I consider trying to argue, but what’s the point? She’s gonna win. Might as well skip the argument. Fighting won’t help us get closer. Sighing, I obey her request and sit beside her, rolling up my sleeves. Aurora makes quick work of it. Sitting by the riverside, it almost feels like old times. All we needed is for Daisuke and Maris to disappear, and it’ll be like back on the train. “There,” she says, rubbing her hands together in the water. “Was that so bad?”
Looking at her, I choke down a gasp. There’s pain in her eyes. Has that always been there? Is this my first time noticing? Had she kept it hidden from the rest of us and only revealed it in a moment of weakness? “Aurora,” I start, my voice cracking.
All of a sudden, the pain vanishes, replaced by a steely wall. It sends a chill through my body. Until this point, I thought that it was my lack of social skills that kept me at an arm’s distance from her. Perhaps, she blocked me out. “Tell me,” Aurora says, ignoring me and talking to Daisuke instead. “Why would a Rakan monk abandon his sacred life for one of thievery?”
He regards her with a condescending eye. “People like you wouldn’t understand.”
“Are you sure? I’m known to be a great listener,” Aurora insists. I sit aghast. How can she act like this? I want to understand her, and she chooses to ignore me. “Come on. What was your life like before becoming a bandit?”
I must admit that this isn’t the first time that Aurora tried talking with Daisuke. From the moment they met, she treated him with respect and gentleness. A bystander would think that she was talking to an old friend and not a captive. Daisuke repelled her attempts each time, but from time to time, she broke through. All that we know about him is through her efforts. The pair lock eyes. Daisuke holds his intense, hate-filled glare while Aurora meets him with the kind, understanding eyes that I can’t help but feel weak from the sight of. Watching her, I can’t believe how fast she avoided my concerns. I want to press the matter, but I give up. Whatever she’s doing, I know that there’s some reason. Instead, I shoot a look at Daisuke, hoping that my influence had some effect on him. To my surprise, it did.
Daisuke’s eyes soften. “Fine,” he answers, not hiding the venom in his voice. My presence isn’t as strong as I would like, but it’s better than nothing. “There isn’t much to tell. Most thieves have the same story, when you get down to it.”
“Don’t know those stories,” Queen interjects.
His eyes dart to her, narrowing. There’s only one other man I’ve seen that held so much anger in his heart, and I shudder to think about him. “Please,” Aurora insists. He looks back at her and meets the kind eyes. Despite her initial reasons for engaging in this conversation, no one can deny her investment. Confusion leaves his face flustered.
“Why should you care?” he spits.
“Because every life is precious.” That is all she had to say. How could anyone argue with that? Still, she gives a little more. “This world is full of so many people. All of them have unique lives. I’ve met all kinds of people and heard their stories. Among those stories, I’ve heard the tales of thieves before. There are those that steal because their attempt at respectable work failed. Others couldn’t find work because of a past mistake. Perhaps the smallest group are those that do it for the sake of enjoying it.” She leans forward, looking deep into his eyes. “I want to know which group you fit into.”
With a mischievous grin, he answers, “I must admit. That third category has my name on it.” Aurora has a sad expression on his face. Something about that brings a wider smile to his face. “Fine. I’ll tell you, but don’t blame me if you hate it.” He adjusts his position, where he sits on his knees. Placing his hands on his lap, he begins his tale. “Long ago, I belonged to a monastery, trained to be a monk from birth.” Gesturing to his ringed staff resting near a tree, he brags, “They granted me the rank of shaman by fifteen.”
“Wow,” Harva breathes, her child-like wonder overpowering her quiet demeanor for a change. “How did you become so good?”
“Orphans have little else to do,” he retorts. Harva gulps at that. “At the monastery, there’s a rite of passage when a young man reaches the age of eighteen. He must travel across the world. To complete the pilgrimage, he must study for years to know all the charms and skills needed to guide himself to the end of his journey. With those that wished to come along, I made it a fourth of the way when bandits attacked.”
Aurora sits, listening with the same intensity that she gave me back on the train. “All they wanted was whatever was in our coin purses, and we could live,” the captive says. “Unfortunately, monks have very little in terms of material possessions. They decided that all they wanted was one of us to be their loyal captive. Those in my party selected me. I had little say in the matter.”
“That’s horrible,” Aurora gasps. I can hear the sympathy in her voice.
“Yes. They gave me up to save their own skins. None of us were too different. I was the one they chose.”
“It had to be awful.”
He shoots her a glare, which she pays no attention to. “It didn’t last long,” he replies. “Do you know why?” No one answers him. “I became one of them.”
“But what about your convictions? I thought monks were against killing,” Aurora asks. “You can’t expect me to believe that your bandit friends don’t kill while monks do.”
Daisuke laughs. “I wouldn’t make such an outrageous lie. It doesn’t benefit anyone.” He thinks about her question. “Let’s say I learned of a long-hidden deficiency in my moral character.”
“What?” Aurora exclaims, her voice becoming harsh.
“As their captive, I had to take part in their thievery. If I disobeyed, they’d kill me at the first available opportunity. I didn’t know how I would feel that first time. Would horror restrict my arms? Would self-loathing drive me to an early grave? No. Instead, a sudden lust awoke.”
His admission left everyone in stunned silence. “I saw all the greed that drove men to commit these atrocities. The fear of our victims is fresh in my mind at all times.” He pauses, seeming to savor the memory. “I witnessed all bandits are capable of, and I loved being a part of it.”
“Are you insane?” Queen blurts. “What kind of monster can enjoy that?”
“What kind of good people kidnap someone and hold him against their will because they lack the skills to deal with their own problems?” His words stun us to silence. Looking around, I realize that this is the first time that anyone considered our actions with the bandits to be wrong. That is, everyone except Aurora.
“Wicked men shouldn’t criticize,” Queen starts.
“Don’t begin that argument,” he retorts. “Are you saying that because I’m bad, you can do what you want? Besides, if any of you are so righteous, surely none of you have any dirty pasts.”
Queen clicks her teeth in frustration. “We’re not like you,” I retort.
“Perhaps, perhaps not. Let me ask you a question: are you able to save your enemy?”
Only one answers. “Yes,” Aurora declares. “Always.”
Daisuke’s eyes fill with sudden intrigue. “I wonder…” All the while, Harva looks down, unable to meet anyone’s eyes.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
A Hole in the Wall
11
Daisuke walks in front with Aurora’s vine wrapped around his wrists. His steps are slow, as if he hopes that the longer he takes, the more likely that we will abandon him and continue on our way. G. keeps him moving, prodding him with the butt of his spear whenever he grew tired of the man’s dawdling. Aurora shoots him a glare when that happens. Despite how our captive treated her when she tries to know him, she keeps trying to get along with him, being protective of him. If she had it her way, we’d let him go now.
G. has no intention of letting Daisuke go. His dist
rust is clear on his face. I can’t blame him. We don’t understand Daisuke’s abilities. “For all we know, he could disappear and return with his friends,” he said when Aurora pushed the issue of letting him go. “Then what are we gonna do?” That’s the only reason we need, and Aurora accepted his decision, though I can see that she still disapproves.
Other than dawdling, Daisuke doesn’t cause us any further problems. He understands the position he’s in. However, he’s become much more talkative. Most of the time, he verbalizes his desire to get us lost. “All it would take is one wrong turn, and you have another month in this forest.” “Hope I didn’t take a wrong turn.” “Wait, was I supposed to loop around that tree, or was it that bush?” Despite what he says, it’s clear that he’s leading us the right way. I can feel it in my bones. With each step, we’re so much closer to our destination that the excitement is almost too much to take. We reach it sooner than I expected.
A shadow falls over us. I wonder if clouds are covering the sun, but the look of accomplishment on Daisuke’s face tells me otherwise. “The wall,” Harva cries out, pulling my gaze forward. There is a gap in the trees, and through it, I can see a massive barrier of dark stone. It towers so high that I can’t see the top from here. Enormous stone blocks form this wall. It’s impossible to see where one rock begins and another ends. Just think, it’s the same across the entire continent. The Great Boundary of Raka. I can only stand in awe of it. “I can’t believe that it exists,” the child breathes.
“Hurry,” Daisuke says, pulling on his restraint. “The sooner I get you across, the sooner I can leave.” He guides us to the left, adjacent to the wall. We don’t draw closer to it. If the guards are as deadly as G. says, I doubt we would survive for long.
“Good job, Maris,” Queen says, patting the passive woman on the back. My eyebrows raise at this. Why is she being nice to Maris?
“What are you thanking me for?” Maris replies, saying the most she had in days. She shrugs off Queen’s hand.
Mind's Journey 2: Of Monsters and Men (A Gamelit Fantasy Adventure - Book 2) Page 13
