Chapter 1502 – A Different Sort of Templar

Standing nearby is an odd-looking fellow. He’s a lot older than the others. Allison, Trean and Emilia are the youngest, and from what I gather, they’re about as young as a person can be and get a Class. I haven’t asked anyone exactly what age that is, and nobody has told me… so if I were to guess, they’re… fourteen? Twelve?

I don’t know! It’s been ages since I was a human, I barely remember what I looked like back then!

They’re young. Done.

Alis and Jern are definitely older, fully grown, probably. Twenty… ish.

But this guy, this guy is like… old. Proper old. Knee-pain old. If I were to guess….

I don’t have to guess, dammit!

[Hey. How old are you?] I ask him through the Nave.

The old guy jumps and looks around, perplexed, then looks up at me and points a finger hesitantly.

[Yes, it’s me talking,] I confirm. [Hi, I’m Anthony.]

[Oh! Uh. You can hear this? My thoughts?]

[Sort of. If you think an answer at me, I’ll get it.]

[Oh. Well. It’s nice to meet you,] he executes a rustic sort of bow. Clearly unused to performing such an act. [My name is Bertran. Bertran Gerond. My friends call me Bert.]

[Nice to meet you Bert! How old are you?]

[Ah! Right. I’m fifty-two. Is… is that a problem?]

He looks nervous and starts fiddling with his coat as he stares up at me. That coat looks like it’s just about as old as he is; I feel like it’s more patch than coat at this point.

[Why would it be a problem? It’s totally fine, I was just curious. It’s getting hard for me to work out how old people are, and I was genuinely unsure with you. Thanks for filling me in.]

[Ah… well, it’s not a problem. I mean, you’re welcome.]

He gives me that weird bow again, and I poke him with an antenna, straightening him back up.

[No need for that. Who even told you that was necessary? Was it Beyn?]

[Who? Is that the priest? No, he didn’t tell me to do it. I just thought some sort of respectful… gesture, would be the done thing when meeting… you know.]

[An ant? We don’t need anyone to bow at us.]

A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.

[Well, no. I suppose you wouldn’t. But you in particular… aren’t just an ant, I suppose?]

He seems to be hinting at something but is clearly unwilling to spell it out directly. I have to think for a minute before I realise what he’s getting at, then I slump over.

[I’m not a god,] I declare flatly. [Did Jern get you onto that? Or Alis?]