1.23 – Resolve

Almost the moment she agreed to come with him, Erik practically melted. His shoulders slumped, and his head dipped almost imperceptibly. He turned, and the relief and exhaustion on his round, too-young face were unmistakable.

“Thanks,” he said, his voice back to that soft, half-mumble he typically used.

“I’m not letting you kill yourself. And we both know that’s what you were about to do.” She tried to sound cheery, but it came out a bit more sarcastic and edged than she’d intended. As it usually did when she tried to make light of, well, anything.

“Yeah.”

“Come on,” she said. “We’re not moving on just yet. Don’t know about you, but I’m still pretty wrecked. Let me catch my breath, at least. Might as well check if either of those two has anything of use, too.”

Erik returned to his rock, deflated, but less solemn than he’d been before. “I can heal you again if you need,” he said.

“No injuries, just tired,” she said as she made her way over to Kriztan.

She rifled through his pockets and pouches, finding nothing of any interest other than a handful of coins. She took his pouch and attached it do her belt. At the very least, she could pay off what she owed to the Addy and the smith back at Canyon Falls. Otherwise, he was all daggers and that pigsticker of a sword. The sword she could use, but didn’t see the point. Her own arming sword had a longer reach and was balanced for a wider variety of strikes. Kriztan’s was designed more for thrusting. The daggers, she didn’t see much point in them. She took one, regardless—she could swap it for a proper hunting knife later.

Vilmos was a different story. Both his axe and his shield lay nearby. As she looked at them, Chryson relayed their information to her.

• Bearded Axe – (Uncommon) A one-handed axe of above-average make. Well-balanced, and the back spike can puncture armor. Scaling: Might, C-

• Large Heater Shield – (Uncommon) An oversized, reinforced heater shield. A fantastic option for front-liners looking to fill a Bastion role.Scaling: Might, C-

She raised an eyebrow at the gear. Certainly better than hers, and definitely worth taking. And with the prospect of having to face down whatever lay ahead of them with two fewer party members than the recommendation, she’d take any edge she could get. Out of curiosity, she checked his armor, too.

• Lamellar Coat (Heavy Armor) – (Common) Metal plates laced together with leather backing form a strong defense. Common starting point for heavy armor users.Scaling: Resilience, C-

• Peaked Segmented Helm (Medium Armor) – (Uncommon) A sturdy spangenhelm of above-average make. Protects the head.Scaling: Resilience, C

For a moment, she let her eyes linger on the armor and helm. While the lamellar plate would almost certainly be far too big on her, the helm might fit. After a bit of fiddling and adjusting, she gave up. Apparently Vilmos’s head had been of a size to match his stubbornness. She couldn’t manage to get the helmet to fit properly, and it kept slipping around. The protection wasn’t worth risking it falling over her eyes in a fight. She tucked it into her pack, regardless. Maybe she could sell it or trade it for something that did fit her.

At least she could use his weapons. She discarded her own round shield. As useful as it was, she’d no need to carry two around. She could leave her arming sword in her belt to use as a backup if she lost the axe. Finally, she picked the coin purse off his belt. It was noticeably heavier than Kriztan’s had been. She went over to where Erik was still recovering from the fight and from standing up to her, and tossed him the pouch.

“Here,” she said. “Feels like a good amount.”

He caught it, turned it over, then tossed it back. “You probably need it more than I do.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah. And,” he paused. “I don’t know. Doesn’t feel right, I guess. They weren’t my friends or anything, but looting their corpses just doesn’t sit right.”

“Fair enough,” she said, tucking Vilmos’s coin purse next to Kriztan’s. “I’d call it a waste otherwise, but suit yourself.”

“You’re probably right. I’m just being sensitive, I guess.”

“Hey. What’s wrong? Besides all that.” She waved in the general direction of the carnage left over from the ambush. The bonfires had burned down a fair bit, but still cast plenty of light. The air still stank of blood. The slickness of the floor had started to turn sticky.

“Nothing,” Erik said, standing up. He looked around, then said, “I just thought my first real job would go a bit different than this.”

“Yeah, me too. But seems like we’re gonna see it through, regardless. You’ll do fine.”

Erik smiles, but it was clearly forced. “Thanks.”

“Thanks, yourself,” Rika said, walking over so she could speak to him properly. “You realize I’d be dead without you, right?”

He nodded, then looked at the floor.

“Don’t be so hard on yourself. We’ve got work to do. And if you ask me, it’ll most likely kill us both. You can mope all you want if we make it out.”

He actually gave a small laugh at that, then replied with a far more genuine, “Thanks.”

“Is that what you consider a good joke?” she asked, allowing herself to laugh a little, too. It somehow took a bit of the weight off. “I really do need to fix my sense of humor. C’mon, let’s go.”

“How are you so calm about this?” Erik asked as they picked their way over the bodies.

“I figure we’re either dead or we’re not. Worrying isn’t going to make me more likely to live, is it? Besides, now that I’m the one making the calls, we’re not going to be rushing into any obvious traps. Only the not-obvious ones.”

“You’re making the calls?” he asked. The lightness in the question was honestly a relief to hear. The last thing she wanted was to deal with a mopey Support in her last moments of this life.

“Yeah. You don’t seem like the type, and at least I’m not trying to send us both to our deaths. Like I said earlier, if we’re doing this, we’re doing it smart. Which means careful. Got it?”

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“Yes, ma’am.” By now she could hear the smile.

Still, she rolled her eyes. “Just Rika,” she said. “Anyway. Stay close to me and try to make as little noise as you can. Keep your voice down and your ears pricked. I don’t see any reason they wouldn’t try another ambush. It seems to be their primary tactic. No idea how many are left down here, but Chryson said there can be as many as three hundred.”

“Is that your Oracle?” Erik asked, a bit of surprise and disbelief tinging his question.

“Yeah. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing, it’s just usually a sign of trust to share your Oracle.”

Well, she hadn’t exactly shared much of anything. Just the name. “Hadn’t realized. Marieta showed me her Oracle just fine.”

“It’s a bit different for guild administrators. They have to interface with people’s Oracles to sign them up. It’s a one-time process though, and being able to see her Oracle isn’t permanent. She also doesn’t have to give her Oracle’s name.”

“Is there something about naming Oracles I should know?” she asked. The question was directed as much at Chryson as it was Erik.

“Our names are quite important, Miss Rika.” Chryson’s musical voice swelled out from where he floated beside her. “They reflect what the Watchers themselves expect of an Aspirant when they assign one.”