Cinnamon Bun

Chapter Fifty-Three - Buntimidation

I crested a hill to find all four remaining members of the cervid group set in a loose formation on an opposite hill. A little rivulet ran across the ground between us, the water flowing along and masking the tense atmosphere with gentle murmurs.

They had set Amaryllis aside, the Lancer holding his spear close to her neck in an obvious sign that they could hurt her at any moment.

“Level check,” the leader said.

One of the cervids glared my way. He wasn’t one of the two that had attacked me at the bridge, which meant he had to be Three. “She’s... level seven. Cinnamon Bun class. Disposition: dreary and resolute,” he said.

He must have had a skill similar to my Insight. Since he had used it on me...

An anxious Cervid Lancer, level ?.

An angry Cervid Plains Speaker, level ?.

Those were the two that I had fought on the bridge.

A calculating Cervid Slip Spear, level ??.

A rational Cervid Wind Warrior, level ??.

The leader, and then the one that had just used something like Insight on me. I was expecting a mage of some sort, not a warrior, but maybe that didn’t matter.

“I just want to talk,” I called out. The distance between us wasn’t that great, but it was enough that I thought I could dodge any attacks that they flung my way.

Amaryllis glared at her captors, then her eyes softened as she looked towards me. She shook her head minutely, only stilling when the Lancer shifted his spear.

“What happened to Two and Four?” the leader asked.

“I...” I swallowed down the bile rising in my throat. “I’m sorry about Titan and Rex,” I said. “They didn’t... I’m sorry.”

The leader shifted a little, his hand straying to his hip where a long, curved sword was hung. The others reacted a little too, but the Plains Speaker reacted most of all. “There’s no way. There’s no way someone like you got to them,”

“Stop it, Six,” the leader said. It was low, but it still carried over to where I stood.

“She’s just a human,” Six hissed.

“Now’s not the time,” the leader said and it was the final word on the matter. He turned back towards me, his eyes set and I had the impression he was weighing me. “What do you want?” he asked.

“I want my friend back,” I said.

“You idiot!” Amaryllis finally shouted. Keeping quiet for a whole minute was obviously too much for her. “You should have just run. Go tell the oth--”

She collapsed to the side and the Lancer pulled the butt of his spear away from her as she coughed and spat and tried to sit back up despite her arms being tied up behind her back.

“I’m afraid we can’t just return the target to you. It would go against the parameters of our mission.”

“I could pay you?” I tried, but the cervid shook his head. My few measly gold pieces wouldn’t be enough for that anyway. “M-maybe you could take me instead?”

“I’m afraid not,” the leader said.

“Please?” I asked, begged really. I didn’t want to have to take the next step.

“Five, Six, flanks, Three, you’re with the target,” the leader said.

I shook my head. “Please? I don’t want to fight.”

“Gutting you is going to be a pleasure,” The Plains Speaker said. “If you killed Titan, then there’s no need for me to hold back.”

I closed my eyes and tried to think of something else, but I was tired and weary and nothing came to mind.

So I whistled.

Throat Ripper landed atop the hill just behind me, then jumped forwards so that he was next to me, his huge body blocking most of my view of the other hill, but I could still see the widening of the Cervid’s eyes behind their helmets and the way Amaryllis began to grin, sharp and vindictive.

The dog began to growl, the noise almost enough to drown out the rivulet below. Armour clunked as every skeletal cervid Gunther had sent with me lined up atop the hill.

“Three, level check,” the leader barked.

“The dog’s... a Bone Hound of the Long Slumber, level in the upper twenties, secondary class is Skeleton Lord and its third class is Good Boy. The skeletons.” Three scanned the hill, eyes jerking from walking corpse to walking corpse. “They’re all first tier, below ten.”

The leader’s confidence was gone now. He didn’t seem ready to charge in a fight, especially not when Throat Ripper placed a paw on a rock jutting from the hill and it burst apart with little more than a flex of his toes.

I stepped up around Throat Ripper, one hand still hanging onto his side to keep him back, not that I had any doubt that if the doggy wanted to jump across the hill he would. “Um, I would really, really rather not fight,” I said.

“You didn’t tell me she was a necromancer,” the leader hissed.

“She isn’t. I thought her class was baking based,” Three said.

“It’s actually a nature support class,” I said, defending my class, even if it wasn’t the best. “I don’t know if I could learn baking.” But it was a great idea. If Baking was anything like Cleaning it might be my path towards fireballs.

The leader shifted. I could tell that he wasn’t actually paying attention, a skill I had honed with much practice while prattling at friends. Still, that was okay because he took a small step back and shook his head. “Five, Six, prepare to pull back. Three, get the smoke ready.”

“You’re not going to try and run, are you?” I asked.

“Smoke!” the leader screamed.

Throat Ripper tensed.

Three tossed something on the ground.

I was expecting some smoke from that, but not the amount that burst out and filled the air as if we were suddenly in a thick fogbank. At least it didn’t seem to have any effect on my breathing.

Without being able to see, there was no way to know if they were right before me or to learn if they were running away.

I aimed a hand away from Throat Ripper and fired a small burst of Cleaning magic. The fog around my hand faded away, then returned as the air shifted. So, it was something dirty, something that I could clean away.

“Stay, please,” I said to Throat Ripper as I took a few steps before him, planted my spear into the ground next to me, and raised both arms in front of me. When casting a spell, there was a sort of... prompt in the back of my mind that asked ‘how much?’ It was the same for Jumping and Cleaning, though both took resources from different pools.

When Cleaning I had an idea of how much mana I would need, exactly, to clean something, it was a sense that had been growing keener over time. Now I aimed the largest and widest Cleaning spell I could before me, and when my mind, or the system, or the world asked me ‘how much?’ my answer was just ‘yes.’

The burst of magic fired out of me with a kick, shoving me back half a step.

The effects before me were a whole lot more impressive.

The magic travelled in a wave, expanding and bursting forwards across the grassy hill, past the rivulette and burst against the opposite hill.

The cervid stared at me.

Between us, the smoke bomb let out a pitiful puff and went inert.

Throat Ripper growled.

“Last chance,” I said. I yanked my spear out of the ground and turned it so that the point was hovering between us.

They hadn’t even gotten Amaryllis onto the Plain Speaker’s back yet, probably because she was fighting them the entire time.

“Please?” I begged past the wash of tiredness. My mana was spent, I didn’t have another chance like this one if they had another smoke bomb.

“Push her down the hill,” the leader said.

The Plains Speaker grumbled, but he shoved Amaryllis back toward me.

My friend screeched as she tumbled down the grassy hill, hair flying every which way as she flopped downhill. She stopped in the steam with a splash.

“This operation’s cost has passed what we were being offered. We’re leaving,” the leader said across the emptiness between us.

“I.... I hope we never meet again,” I said. It was the meanest thing I could think to say.

He nodded and backed away. When he and his men were a little ways off, they started to gallop away with surprising deftness.

I waited just a moment before racing down the hill. I almost tripped as my shoes skidded over wet grass and mud, and my spear slipped out of my grasp, but I didn’t care. Amaryllis was right on the shore of the little stream at the bottom, coughing and sputtering out a facefull of muck.

I landed next to her and fell to my knees. “Don’t move, don’t move,” I said as I pulled a knife from my bandoleer. A few careful tugs undid the ropes holding her in place.

“About time. I can hardly feel my oomph!”

I grabbed the harpy and crushed her to my chest, then held her at arms' length to inspect her up and down. “You’re okay?” I asked. She didn’t have time to answer. “You look okay. Oh, thank you.” I hugged her closer, arms around her waist to hold her close as I buried my head in her neck.

“Don’t hug me,” she said. “You’re a mess.”

“I’m sorry,” I said. I didn’t stop hugging.

She paused, then sighed and started rubbing my back. “What are you sorry over? You saved me, somehow. That was probably the single stupidest plan I have ever had the misfortune of being part of, but it succeeded, somehow.”

I opened my mouth to speak but the words caught in my throat. I took a deep breath, and then it came spilling out in a rush, words tumbling over words and I don’t think my story was linear, exactly, but it didn’t matter. I told her of looking for her, of going to Gunther and of making a deal and then I paused.

“And then what?” Amaryllis asked. “Or did you finally realise that being knee-deep in mud isn’t the place for this kind of conversation?”

“I killed people,” I said.

Amaryllis shifted and I slowly pulled away. I didn’t want to. The hug was nice. I missed hugs. But I didn’t deserve them.

I looked up and into Amaryllis’ eyes, only to see her staring back, confused. “You’re talking of those ruffians, aren’t you?” she asked.

“The, the cervid mercenaries, yeah,” I said in a whisper.

“Okay, and?”

I blinked. “Eh?”

Amaryllis shifted, then pushed herself up so that she was standing above me. From where I knelt on the ground she practically towered above me, especially with her talons on her hips and her muddy wings flared out around her. “Don’t be an idiot. They were mercenaries. Mercenaries that tried to kidnap me for the world knows what reason. This was targeted. What you did was just taking out weeds. You even got a level from it.”

I was breathing deeply, almost panting now. I swallowed and tried to control the beating of my heart. “No. No it doesn’t matter that they were doing a bad thing. No one should die, ever. Killing people is wrong.”

Amaryllis knelt back down and met my eyes for a long moment. “Idiot,” she said before hugging me back. “You’re just one big idiot, Broccoli Bunch. To think that you’d compromise yourself for someone like me. You’re the dumbest person that has ever been.” She tightened her grip a little, and I think that she might have sobbed, just a little.

I didn’t know what to feel, so I just fell into the hug and held my friend close.

Amaryllis shook her head and the hug ended, but I did feel a little better. Not that I wouldn’t have a proper cry later, but now wasn’t the time for it. “We need to get back to Green Hold,” Amaryllis said.

“I promised Gunther we’d go back to see him,” I said.

“And that’s wise?” Amaryllis asked.

“Is going back to Green Hold wise?” I asked right back.

The harpy tilted her head to the side like a curious bird. “Maybe not that big an idiot. Let’s go then. I’ve had a long morning and could use some of that tea of yours.”

***