Fate weaver’s convergence

Road to Krakow, day 1

It was dark, but not so much that the firelight could effectively illuminate the surrounding area save the shadows cast by trees.

Thp

 

…..

 

Thp 

 

…..

 

Thp

 

“For the love of– you sonnova bitch!”

 

I'll kill him, I swear to the Gods! I’ll fuckin kill him!

 

“I'm sorry! I'm sorry! Haha– wai– ouch–”

 

Vaughn was yelling for mercy as I assaulted the poor guy. He'd been habitually tossing pebbles at my tail while I made camp for us.

 

“You useless fuckin pencil pusher!”

 

I yelled, managing to pin him with my weight as he scrambled to mount some kind of defense.

 

“Your sides are mine, shit heel!”

 

I grabbed at Vaughn's sides, trying to maintain my hold on him while I did my best to tickle him.

 

“Uncle! Uncle– shi– uncle!”

 

Vaughn struggled to catch his breath under my assault. It wasn't for another odd minute or so that I released the poor fool, leaving him gasping for air and pushing out what little laughter he still had in him.

 

“Fuckin– “

 

I yawned, stretching my arms outward. The night was getting to me, at least as far as I could vouch for myself. The camp was mostly set; a series of three tarps were staked into the ground using iron rods I'd commissioned. Having the strength to manage such feats, it was decidedly left to me to drive them into the ground. The smell of dew and the droplets of rain pattering along the area sheltered by the tarps set the scene reminiscent of a camping trip gone awry to poor weather. The tarps were held in a sort of umbrella formation, suspended at the center by a tree branch that I'd stripped bare. Each of our beddings was laid directly under each tarp and as close to the fire as we could manage in order to keep us dry.

 

“I’m feeling ready to bed down, what are you two in mind of?”

 

I asked, placing my hands on my hips. Vaughn, still lying prone on the ground in continued silence, marked his answer with a simple wave of his hand.

 

That's easy enough.

 

“Beryl?”

 

I looked at her, expecting some visible sign of exhaustion, but was only rewarded by an expression of distress as she held a small orb of light to a series of papers.

 

And the studied one can't seem to sleep…

 

“Hey, Beryl?”

 

I walked over, a few stray droplets of rain splashing off my scalp and horns before I was shielded once more. 

 

“Hmm, oh, sorry.”

 

Beryl's coils shifted slightly, partly from genuine surprise, it seemed.

 

She's been out of it lately. Then again, this is our first month-long job.

 

I squatted, resting my elbows on my knees as I came just below eye level for her. Peeking at what writing I could make out, it seemed to be paperwork she had received from the guild just before we collected our tags.

 

Some other work?

 

I motioned to the papers.

 

“You really shouldn't keep yourself up Ber-ber. I know walk–”

 

I rolled my eyes at my own slip-up.

 

“Slithering, this trip is probably burning more energy than I could comprehend. And you're by no means slow.”

 

Beryl looked up from the papers, laying them along her tail as if it were a desk. she rubbed her neck, the strain seeming to bother her.

 

“I'm not so tired as I am exhausted mentally. I'm turning sixteen soon; that's a lot to balance with our work, surprisingly.”

 

She flicked the stack of papers, prompting me to look at them. I motioned to ask if I could sit down and lean back against her body while I read. To my expectation, she nodded curtly.

 

“Just… don't fall asleep? Please? The last time you fell asleep like that, I couldn't convince myself to wake you. You're like a cat; that's the best way I could put it.”

 

Beryl reasoned sheepishly, turning to set her own pillow of fur and supplies for bed. 

 

“S– sure–”

 

I yawned once more.

 

“The hell, that tired?”

 

I exclaimed at the overpowering yawn.

 

“Where was I?”

 

I looked at the papers, flicking them within my grasp to maintain their rigidity.

 

“To the party concerned, designation, Hollow-Point– ”

 

I spoke up, mocking Lorn's usual administrative tone. Beryl apparently had already digested the contents of the note herself, settling on placing a small handful of warding rods: some pieces of magic-concentrated metal that worked more as a base repellant for smaller animals.

 

“The Guild expects no less than exceptional performance from a regional team placing within the top twenty percentile for its class. You've maintained a near immaculate record for completed assignments, showing only two abandoned requests, both at the guild's behest and one request outside of proper classification.”

 

I looked back to Beryl; she was settling within her coils behind me.

 

“Keep reading.”

 

She gestured to the paper, resting her chin in the palm of her hands.

 

“Unfortunately, we would like to inform you of a classification change due to upcoming events.”

 

I squinted at the words, unsure of their context.

 

Is it because of Beryl?

 

“After an extended debate on the subject, your team and one other have been upgraded from E Class to D Class. Please note that this citation must be passed on to the Krakow branch… and will be followed with a reply that we Anticipate upon your return.”

 

I smirked.

 

Promotion… That's better pay…. Better reputation, but–

 

I continued to read.

 

“With this promotion, be aware that your scope of employment will change. F-classification jobs are now prohibited to facilitate the employment of lower-ranked teams. In turn, you will be expected to pick up D class assignments at regular intervals at a reviewed maximum rate. Please understand that this change of classification is due to age restrictions, as your party will soon include an adult.”

 

That's the kicker.

 

“So that's why you seemed stressed?”

 

I looked over my shoulder at Beryl. Rubbing her eyes, she nodded in confirmation.

 

“D class hunts don't seem too far out of our reach, but it also means our lighter seasonal work will be cut. We'll have to start anticipating bigger game on average; the Viper-vine we took a tag for is about to be our everyday hunt.”

 

I nodded, following her speech.

 

“Brenton tradition seems to maintain that adventurers teams, if adolescent, maintain the same age range. I'll be sixteen soon, Kiyomi, but our team still won’t be considered fully fledged.”

 

I nodded.

 

“Yes?”

 

Beryl pinched the bridge of her nose before continuing. 

 

“We’ll be stuck in this weird gray area until all of us reach adulthood, meaning our progress might stagnate. I'm not one to mind myself, but you? And what of Vaughn?”

 

She asked, taking the papers back and stacking them neatly. Once more, she raised her brow, expecting an unseen fact to suddenly click within my mind. Taking the moment to myself, I stared into the fire for a moment. 

 

Locked out of F class… but limiting D-class… well, shit.

 

“They're going to lock us out of advancing rank, aren't they?”

 

I asked.

 

“Mhmm, they seem set on limiting our access to D class just as much as they've cut us off from E Class assignments.”

 

I picked up a pebble, rolling it in my palm. Nudging Beryl's tail, I threw out a joke I'd not truly intended to land.

 

“It sounds like you're suggesting we try for rank advancement… Or to try and circumvent the ranks—Beryl?”

 

I turned my head once more, Beryl's expression taking a turn for mischief as she smiled. Throwing the pebble at her boobs, I was nudged off of her body as she shifted it.

 

“It's a suggestion. Who knows, maybe we'll have to take separate jobs at some point? Yes, it is sketchy, but when have we been the type not to involve ourselves in sketchy stuff?”

 

Beryl sighed, her tail shifting to support me as I stood.

 

“It's a thought and not one that we seem to be alone in.”

 

Beryl laid her back onto her sleeping roll, her coils pulling close to and wrapping around her.

 

“One that could get us in more trouble than we may be able to take.”

 

I stood over Beryl. Shaking her head, she did her best to maintain eye contact at that moment. 

 

“It's a test, likely, considering Vulpes did the same thing already.”

 

I raised a brow.

 

Vulpes… What team was that again? 

 

I pondered, prying where I could in memories until it hit me. The realization struck just as I was about to shrug the comment off, the same as I had plenty before.

 

Wait… Vulpes…. Just us and them? 

 

“Sabine's team? Fuck, weren't people saying that she hated my guts?”

 

That's mighty fuckin convenient, right? The last thing i fuckin need is some teenage spat over reputation.

 

Beryl grabbed my heel just as I moved to wake Vaughn. 

 

“Comfy, can you cover me with the fur?”

 

Beryl pointed in the direction of our packs, a large pelt tossed over them.

 

Grown-ass children, all of us.

 

I knelt, pinching and pulling her cheek until she let go of my ankle.

 

“Owie.”

 

Beryl groaned, rubbing her face, only to for the sudden draping of pelt to silence her. A muffled–

 

“Thanks.”

 

Signaling I'd done no harm with the pinch, she'd shifted just until her head poked from underneath the covering. 

 

“I can't help but wonder if this isn't some kind of setup. Competition in this environment only strengthens people out of a sense of spite for each other. It never should be, but what exactly do we know of Vulpes? Fuck me, I only just met Sabine two weeks ago.”

 

I recalled the odd ‘esprit de corps’ unit competition on Earth, which seemed like a farcry in comparison.

 

This’d be more akin to units competing to tally their kills… that never ended well… 

 

“M–”

 

It was Beryl's turn to yawn, a strange hiss managing to escape her throat. It was something I'd never really heard her utter before.

 

That's… new?

 

“Maybe, though, there’s no way to tell if it’s coincidental or not given her own propensity to–”

 

Beryl's words spaced themselves apart, her body seemingly catching up with her as she slurred her speech.

 

“-To take things to the extreme… Reminds me of someone else– someone else we know.”

 

However, that only really works if all involved want to truly compete.

 

I grumbled internally, watching Beryl drift off before turning to my own bed roll. Vaughn was still strewn out across his sleeping area, reminiscent of some child sleeping splayed across their bed. I walked over to Vaughn, reaching to a hide blanket he'd placed to the side, and brushed it clean of debris, tossing it atop him and making sure his feet were covered.

 

It's the first day, and we’ve made good time. But I can't help but feel like something is a miss… 

 

I looked to wyrmstooth, the sword leaning against the tree to which my tarp was tied. The crossguard glistened strangely in the firelight, the reflections hinting more at a mass of shattered glass than a continuous metal surface. 

 

There’s still that.

 

I looked at the stars for a moment, the sky greeting me with millions of tiny diamonds. Looking back down to the sword, it wasn't hard to reimagine Aethelwulfs ‘recollection of dawn’. I'd seen the old goat earlier that day as per our agreement, a talk once per week. Granted, part of be could only guess if the two were even related, to my barest knowledge at least being able to pin Solah to showing herself to whomever carries it.

 

It had to happen sooner or later.

 

I picked up the blade, cradling it in my lap as I sat on my bedding. The words of Aethelwulf from early that morning replayed in my head.

“If you're intent on–”

 

Aethelwulf, the old goat he was, chose to leave me in suspense rather than answering directly.

 

“If you're intent on following through, on truly understanding your purpose– what you could do, is simply allow it to pass.”

He smiled, seeming pleased with his strangely vague interpretations. I had raised the question of ‘praying through my sword’, considering the goat would at least acknowledge that wyrmstooth held some sort of significance for me.

 

That's not a far fuckin guess. He was damn near spot on, just it's not for me. It's for her.

 

I was determined to discover if I should continue prodding wyrmstooth’s seal with my mana. I'd been doing it ounce by ounce, weekly, since the night I ruptured Kiyomi's last memories into my own. It felt cowardly, but in regard to that particular event, I was no easy proponent of letting that floodgate open. I had to be careful, having no clue what kind of memory or clue I'd let free. Considering the first and only time I’d managed to trigger the event so far, It would be best for now to wait until we arrived in Krakow. I’ll simply have to wait in anticipation. 

 

Sooner or later, I'll have no choice but to relinquish her life back…

 

I looked to Beryl, then Vaughn. Thinking of Callum and Mother, the thoughts were bittersweet. 

 

Seems selfish, doesn't it?

 

I asked myself, expecting the girl imprisoned with me to answer. Of course, as with the many years prior, not a word was given, only a vague sense of guilt.

 

That's why we have to go little by little. Patience, we'll get there  eventually.

 

I leaned my back against the tree, placing wyrmstooth over my shoulder. In that moment, the desire to rest coaxed me into placing my chin against the sheath as my eyes began to feel even heavier with the firelight prying them apart.