Icarus Awakens

In their underground dwelling, Achia and Xtalo discussed quietly. That was a difficult feat for their race, but the one they were keeping their voices low for wasn’t listening keenly. She was huddled as far away from the entrance to her room as possible. “Did Khiat get any sleep?”

“I think so,” Achia, tired and emotionally worn, replied. She’d elected to stay up for that day to watch over and coax her daughter out of the void she’d fallen into. There had been little progress on that but they hadn’t stopped trying. “But only when she is so exhausted sleep takes her. What else can we do?”

Xtalo wrapped two arms around her, bringing his wife close. “We give her time. As much as she needs.”

“I can’t bear to see her like this.”

“I know. I wish just as much there was some magical solution to put an end to this. Every day that goes by I worry she won’t come out of this, but I have faith she will, and will be stronger for this.” They parted, and Xtalo picked up a quiver on the table. “We knew we could give her these, could trust her with these.”

Achia pulled one of the arrows out and cradled the arrowhead with her palm. Its color was almost identical to the chitin of her hand. “We did, but it is only we who believe in her. She does not.”

“I will go to her, you should rest. We will both need to stay strong for however long she needs us.”

The plates above one of Achia’s eyes separated further than the other side’s. “If you think I will be found wanting, husband, then I suggest you make sure your mind has not wandered into the light.”

Xtalo smiled shamefully. While he was among the strongest of the village, always springing to its defense, Achia was regarded as the mediator. Patient and fair, whenever a minor disagreement broke out it was her judgment valued above others. That was why she was taking the day shift, and only after enduring that had motherly concern broken through the otherwise measured way she’d been handling this disaster. “I am a fool.”

She gripped his arm tightly. “No! For our daughter’s sake, you must be more.”

“My love, I was just- you are right.” His shoulders slumped, bending the elbow of the arm caught in Achia’s grasp. “Do you think anyone can see her?”

“You do not hear her cries, do you? Khiat is…” The hand let go. “You will see.”

Ever since coming back from the city, Xtalo’s brave, beautiful daughter had not strayed from her room. At times she wailed, and when she did speak it was to deny food or their presence. During those times neither he nor Achia wanted the others to see her. That wasn’t what greeted Xtalo. In a way, it was worse.

Khiat had first returned to the village unmoving, placed on the cart the hunters had bought for lack of better options. The beast that traveled with them, as well as the avianoid, were apparently enough to pull it with her weight. When they had finally gotten Khiat to open up hours later, he’d thought they’d made progress. Instead, Khiat had fallen in and out of the sullen pose she was now frozen in, the pattern only interrupted by the rare times she became so tired she passed out.

The extreme emotions in his daughter confounded him. She’d been shaken to find out what class she’d awakened, and he had no doubt what she’d endured in the city would be something to rattle anyone. Yet, there was no sign that Khiat was improving. Worse, in all this time she’d barely eaten. Duskers didn’t accumulate fat. While they could temporarily store food taken in excess for later absorption, the degree to which Khiat was starving herself was becoming dangerous.

Xtalo walked into the room, reducing his height so he would fit in the space. His daughter stood in the far corner with her chitin locked together, unmoving and not reacting to his presence. Slowly, he walked forward. “I’m here, Khiat. I’m right here.”

…

Thomas made his way up the tower, silently grumbling with discontent at every oversized step. The tall stairs and village of bug people weren’t the biggest issue on his mind, but it was a welcome distraction. The Fate’s ultimatum, and the gut-clenching anxiety it caused, was something he’d just barely been able to keep secret. It’d happened when Lograve stormed after Aucrest after being told it could be weeks before the region could contact the gods. As soon as they had left the Fate had become animated, urging him to stay. If only he hadn’t.

Evalyn and a bug wrapped in leather were on the top floor discussing the local monsters. While Thomas had some knowledge from his time living here, the lookout didn’t have walls or the oppressive influence of the Spoke to ward off monsters. Small threats like individual Shank Stompers could be sniped before reaching the village, whereas anything over level 2 would require the village to hunker down and wait for the danger to pass.

“Most real threats are bigger,” the giant bug was explaining. “So it’s easy to tell. Anything smaller than us we can handle, usually.”

“How do you tell which small ones you can’t handle?” Evalyn asked, leaning against the wall with her arms crossed and looking out into the desert. She was so beautiful no matter the environment, lighting, or dress. He was trying with her, but unlike others he’d pursued in the past she was adept at this game too. More so, considering the Bard probably had relevant powers in this area. It was throwing him off, making him try too hard and, yes, be obnoxious at times. Anyone else he would have simply moved on, but circumstances had kept the two in proximity to each other. There was also Quala’s advice in the back of his head, and Thomas really could see aiming for something long-lasting in this case. If only he could find an opening.

“If they’re glowing, that’s an easy sign,” the lookout answered readily. Even with races that couldn’t cross with humans, even without powers, Evalyn’s personality had a way of ingratiating her to most. “Our people are slow, so anything quick is also a problem.”

Evalyn’s head turned slightly as she heard someone coming up the stairs, but she didn’t look back. “What about flying monsters? I heard our wyvern caused quite the alarm.”

Thomas shivered as the chitin on the lookout’s face contorted into a humorous expression. “Normally not a problem. We have some people like me who are good with a bow. Khiat, although,” his voice turned troubled, “I fear for that girl now.” The Cleric’s face fell when the Assassin was mentioned as he was reminded of what was weighing on his mind the most.

“I’m sorry for what she went through. Your village trusted her with us and we returned her traumatized.”

Maybe it was being ignored, but Thomas took offense to that. “It’s not like it was our fault! It was that bastard Silver Eye siccing the guard on them.” Evalyn glared at him. “What?”

“How was advancing?” She asked the question as if doing so would make Thomas jump from the tower.

“Fine. I’ve got at least a healing thing out of this one, I think. It should be Flash Heal, finally, but I don’t have a full grasp on it yet.”

“That’s good, now stop interrupting.” Thomas scoffed as she turned back to the lookout. “Sorry, again. Did you teach her to shoot?”

“Xtalo is awful with a bow. Of course I did!” The lookout shrank slightly. “An Assassin. How could that happen?”

“If it’s any consolation, I don’t think she wants to be one.”

“She doesn’t want to be much of anything,” he answered darkly. “I’ve tried talking with her. We all have. I think she blames herself for what happened.”

Thomas and Evalyn shared a look. “We’ve seen that before. In someone a little more experienced, maybe, but I don’t think either were ready for what they got into.”

“Yeah, but at least she didn’t wreck a relationship like Guy did.”

“Not to cause offense, but I doubt sullen withdrawal is any better,” the lookout answered with faint disapproval. “Before all of this, Khiat was a bright child just coming into her own. One of the youngest to solo hunt, and we could trust her to do it during the day. I tell her this, but she just doesn’t listen. Was it like that for you?”

“Pretty much.” Thomas shrugged. “The circumstances were way different, but Guy could only see the things he thought he did and ignored the hundred or so other things that went wrong. Not sure if that’s happening here but it’s probably part of it.”

“What should we do?”

“I don’t think we have that answer,” Evalyn said sadly, cutting over Thomas. “In one sense the best answer for broken confidence is to give them a chance to prove they can handle themselves.”

“I don’t want Khiat killing people.”

Thomas backed away as the lookout grew to his full height. Evalyn didn’t, if only because that would put her over the edge of the tower. “Monsters, not people. None of us would mind taking her along unless she doesn’t want to.”

“She doesn’t want to do much of anything.” The lookout took a deep breath and leaned against a wall. “I am one of the only in the village old enough to see it founded. When you are in a community as small as this, you know everything about one another. The children have their parents, but they also have the village. Do you understand?” Evalyn nodded. “I have seen Khiat grow from hatchling to hunter, and she has never been this withdrawn. Not even after the time she almost exposed herself to the sun.”

“Could it be level disparity?” Thomas offered carefully. Evalyn hadn’t stopped glaring whenever he spoke, but this time he was sure he was being helpful. “Her wisdom and charisma are underleveled.”

“I couldn’t say. Khiat is the first I’ve seen in a while with a class, present company excluded. I’m not fully sure what you mean.”

“You think that could be the issue?” Evalyn’s glare turned thoughtful. Perhaps she remembered that this was Thomas’ area of expertise.

“Why not? We know what level disparity to dexterity did to Kob, and Guy can be a wreck with people when his charisma’s low.”

“He’s gotten better.”

“Yeah, maybe.” Thomas waved a hand. “Khiat’s got level disparity to five of her attributes, including all her mental ones. Remember when you first got your class?” The lookout watched Evalyn for a reaction, following the conversation through her as a proxy. She winced.

“Oh.”

“What is level disparity?” The lookout was forced to ask, not finding the understanding he’d hoped for.

Thomas gestured at Evalyn, who continued. “It’s what happens when your attributes are out of balance. The penalty to any lower than your level is more than you would think, especially if they’re several levels below you. Most people who take up hunting don’t go more than one degree into it because of the risk, and if you’re unfamiliar with how that affects you…”

“Something like a major trauma can devastate you,” Thomas finished what Evalyn left hanging. “I don’t know if having her advance to get rid of it would help at this point. The damage’s been done. Quala might know, or my church, but we’re not in a position to ask either.”

“Could you help? You are a Cleric.”

“I can try. I’ve been trying. But as for my class, it’s generally a bad idea to use powers like that for stuff like this.” Thomas became more comfortable as the conversation continued along his specialty, and he almost forgot who he was talking to. “Fixing mental stuff like fear mid-battle is one thing, but you can do more damage clearing something chronic out of someone’s head that way unless you’re careful. It’s like setting the forest around you on fire to give your house more sun.”

The metaphor wasn’t apt for the lookout to understand, on many levels, but he still nodded. “If it were that easy I suppose you would have done something already, now that I think on it. Forgive my foolishness.”

“S’alright.”

“I think the best thing you can do is keep trying,” Evalyn said. “Even if she wasn’t our responsibility in Aughal, we’d still want to help. If she can understand there are people that want to support her and believe in her, I think that will help mend the tears in her heart.”

“Yeah, basically that,” Thomas affirmed.

“Retreading our current path is not the answer I was looking for, but I thank you for it all the same.” The lookout turned to the tent protecting the entrance to Khiat’s dwelling. “I just hope she can recover from this.”

…

The world was cold. The room itself was just chilly as the night’s darkness replaced the sun, though Khiat barely noticed. Nothing had changed after she’d been freed and taken back to her village. No one understood and she couldn’t speak the turmoil into being or else give the fire consuming her more fuel.

In the end, it wasn’t her failure to act that had shaken Khiat but what it had taken her not to. When the first arrows had struck Daniel and the thieves had come down she’d backed away, unable to control the instinctual fear that the ambush had caused. It had only gotten worse from there. Each of the attackers was so fragile. In panic, she’d used her one power with actual intent, and now she couldn’t get it to stop.

She could have killed any of the thieves within an instant, she knew. As Khare had become more wounded that urge had grown inside her, a will she could call her own hideously merging with the alien impulses of her class. Khiat didn’t want to be that, but she had to, but she didn’t want to, but she had to. The balance of her mind had swayed, spurning her further and further towards action until Daniel had recovered and stepped in.

Everything had turned out alright, just as Evalyn had said. That changed nothing. Rather, the attack had revealed what the future would look like for her. A constant battle against that part of her that called for blood, now fully awakened and never going away. Ever present and unyielding. She’d almost given in the first time the pressure had been real.

No. Better that it ended here before her hands were bloodied. The power that didn’t hold back for her own parents had to die with her. It made sense to Khiat now why the city had killed the last one. Them being a dusker had nothing to do with it, Assassins were just evil. She wasn’t, not yet, and she didn’t want to be.

Her father was in the room now, whatever comforting presence he might have had counterbalanced by the killer instincts. Duskers were naturally stronger than most races so he wasn’t as fragile as the humans and birds that had been among the thieves. Without anything on her, it’d have to be quick and decisive. Those sections of his carapace that weren’t locked together glowed with a fell light in her mind. Not a visual effect like Daniel had used on the monster horde but a guiding light nonetheless. The area around his neck glowed the strongest.

No! Khiat struggled to banish the thoughts and only succeeded in diminishing them. They never stopped, even if it was just in the corners of her mind, the lurking dark predator they wanted her to be. Everything Khiat did now was to deny them, and the best thing she could do was absolutely nothing. She’d take them with her if nothing else.

“Has she been like this the whole time?” a new voice asked. Others had joined them while she was preoccupied. That was the sole saving grace, if she wasn’t aware of someone then the impulses didn’t come.

“No. But I don’t know if this is worse or better than her wails.”

“I know, we could hear them sometimes. Hey!” A third complained as the second elbowed him. Evalyn and Thomas. They’d tried to help too. Of the two, Thomas seemed more alert, and less susceptible to her power. She’d have to come from behind and be careful not to make too much noise to make a clean kill. Evalyn would be easier, though not as easy as her father. That was probably because they were above her level. Hard, but not impossible. Khiat had only met one person to whom her power hadn’t responded at all.

“Not here.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Thomas replied scornfully, and in a slightly more serious tone asked Xtalo, “Has she eaten at all?”

“Scraps, if that. The Khiat I know treasures meals above most other things.”

“Can I have a look?” Evalyn seemed ready to hit Thomas again for the lingering traces of levity in his tone, but Xtalo nodded before she did. His eyes met hers, despite his clear hesitancy to make eye contact. Locked up as she was, Khiat couldn’t help but avert her eyes under a suddenly piercing gaze. “She’s still there,” Thomas reported, not moving. His voice grew softer. “Sometimes when people see too much or have too much done to them they can just go somewhere no one can find them.” He shook his head. “Khiat, are you alright?”

She didn’t respond, afraid that moving at all would tempt capitalizing on how close and vulnerable Thomas was in this moment. Her father spoke up instead. “Since she has returned, she has barely spoken to anyone. When she is like this, not at all.”

“You’re not taking her tomorrow.” Thomas declared, far more authority in his voice than normal.

“What if she changes her mind before then?”

“Then that would be worse, Evalyn!” He finally turned away. Seconds would be all she’d need. “People don’t get suddenly better from things like this unless something worse happens to them. As far as I can tell she hasn’t improved since the trip here. It’s like if you expected Sigron to suddenly regrow his arm on his own and join us the night before that dragon.”

Evalyn was taken aback. “It’s that bad?”

“Yeah. I think there’s more going on than we know. Uhm, Xtalo?” Thomas struggled with the name. “We should talk somewhere private.”

Parts of Xtalo’s body not already locked together clenched. “I don’t want to leave my daughter alone.”

“I don’t think she should hear what I want to talk about. It’s important, and it won’t take too long.”

“I’ll stay,” Evalyn offered, the suggestion meeting with Xtalo’s approval. As they were leaving, she briefly ran out to catch him in the common room of Khiat’s house. The voices were hard not to hear. “I’m sorry for speaking up. I thought, well, you’re not normally what I’d call a serious person.”

She couldn’t see the two, but there was a pause before Thomas spoke. “Yeah. Look, now’s not the time.”

“Honestly, I like this side of you better.”

“That’s not fair! I’m only like this on the job.” A little bit of the normal Thomas bled in as he undoubtedly pouted. “People like my easygoing swagger.”

“People who don’t spend more than a hour around you, maybe.” Evalyn sighed. “Now I’m the one getting in the way. Go, I’ll keep her safe.”

“Alright, but be careful.”

“So now you’re the one afraid of Assassins?”

“I never wasn’t,” Thomas grunted. “Look, my truth-telling thing can get better at level 2. It’s not mind reading and the basic stuff still doesn’t work on you, but it all works on Khiat. Don’t take your eye off her Evalyn. I’m serious.” Khiat was just able to make out what he whispered next to Evalyn. “She might not be the only thing in there.”

…

The dusker village had fully woken as Thomas and Xtalo walked out of the underground dwelling. Without the privacy of his home to use, they decided to travel over the nearest dune to at least get out of the sight of everyone.

“What do we need to discuss?” Xtalo didn’t look directly at Thomas but at the half-filled moon, the gentler of the celestial bodies to his race. “Why must these words be for me alone?”

“I know we’ve told you before that we shouldn’t use powers to resolve this. I’m starting to think it’d be worth it.” Thomas spoke as he would to someone whose best path forward would be to abandon attempts at salvaging a dead limb. It wouldn’t be the first time.

“You said that was dangerous.”

Thomas’ gaze didn’t waver from the dusker, keeping his squeamishness in check through an unearthed bedrock of professionalism. “There are risks, but she’s bad, sir. Mental stuff can be tricky. I don’t think there’s any curse here, but it’s, well.” He scratched his head. “If someone gets scared of something and that sticks with them, you can generally work with them and help overcome that fear. That’s like a cut, and cuts can get infected if not looked after.”

“Is that what happened?” Xtalo held Thomas in full attention now, fully grasping the severity the Cleric was trying to impart.

“It’s more like the infection’s hit bone and spread at the same time.” He rubbed the symbol of the Hand on his Focus, silently praying for strength. “I’m sorry. We might be in the territory where taking drastic measures is better than waiting for things to get better by themselves.” He sighed. “I can’t do that, but there’s probably someone in the city who could.”

“How do you know it has come to this?” Xtalo didn’t shout. Rather, his voice was low with the thin desperate hope that Thomas was wrong.

“I got a good look at her, going deeper than just the physical. There’s something in there with her. I don’t know if it’s her class or because of what happened in the city, but there’s this presence in her now. The kind I wouldn’t want to be alone with. I think Khiat’s main problem is that she’s fighting that part of herself constantly, and I’m worried about what happens when she loses. The trauma might all be secondary to that.”

“You said there were no curses involved!”

“A power’s not a curse, but that just means it can’t be removed,” Thomas clarified sadly. “I don’t know if this is possible, but I’ve heard of people who can change memories. If we go back far enough to before she got her class, that wouldn’t get rid of it, but maybe if she can’t remember it’ll be just as good.”

“That would also mean she would lose her class.”

“Yeah, it would,” Thomas said simply.

Xtalo recoiled. “No! Khiat is special! Even if it is not what we expected, what we wanted, this was what the Octyrrum gave her! You are a Cleric, how could you say her gift is what is causing her turmoil?”

“Because it is.” Thomas looked to the side and grimaced. “If I’m wrong or not, it doesn’t matter. My answer’s your best bet. She’s not getting better, and it looks like she’ll die of starvation before anything else unless this takes a turn for the very worse. If there is another way you’ll need someone better than me to find it. Either way, I’ll need to get reinforcements.”

“Khiat can’t survive another journey to the city the way she is, or wait for someone to return from there.”

Thomas touched his Focus again. “No, she can’t, but I can try to contact my church. The method’s dodgy and can’t cross regions, but it’s more than nothing.”

Xtalo stood fully and paced, dealing with an impossible decision. He weighed the years he’d seen Khiat grow and what the future could hold against grim reality. “If there’s a chance one more powerful has a better way, I must take it.”

“Ok, but just to be clear, if I do this there’s no certainty someone will come. And.” Thomas took a breath. “They might agree with me. Or say they’ll have to do something worse to help her.”

“Is there any better way?”

Thomas bowed his head. “No. This is my opinion as a healer.”

“Then do it,” Xtalo said firmly, before walking away without another word.

Letting out the breath he’d been holding, Thomas fell backward, lying in the cooling sands. “I’m guessing you don’t have any better ideas?” There was no response. He would have been equal parts awed and terrified if there was. “I haven’t done this in, Crest. When have I done this? Oooh,” he groaned. “Quala’s the one that managed this, right. I just helped. But I’m where she was back then. Why does it seem like she had an easier time of it?”

Thomas unhooked the symbol at his waist and held it to his chest with both hands. “Sorry for lying, but I figured it’d be better not to recommend the real way we might have fixed this. If Resurrection would’ve even worked. That’s not considering that Fate bringing it up. Jeez. What am I supposed to do with that? I’ve only got a few weeks before she’ll just tell them.” He lifted his head a few times, letting it fall unresisting back to the sand. “Getting off track, aren’t I? Just send someone. Please? Someone who can actually help. Crest,” he scoffed. “I feel like an idiot. I try getting serious with someone for the first time and it goes nowhere. My only real answers for a patient I care about’s a grave or losing their class. Why can’t I stop making a mess of things?” The world had no answers for Thomas, so he continued. “Hand, if you can hear me, then please send someone who can do anything other than just killing the poor girl.”

There was no flow of mana or other sign that a power had been used. There never was with prayer. Church lore had spoken of miracles delivered by the gods before upon such prompting, but only rarely. Everyone had their pet theory about when and why the gods intervened, personally or by Proxy. Thomas merely hoped this was the right kind of time. Hope was all he had, and he kept it burning within himself despite there being no response or other sign. He lay there, at peace with the world if only for a moment, knowing that at least in this he’d done the right thing.

Somewhere in Aughal, the call was answered.