Chapter 3: Chapter 2: Black Eyes II

[CORBIN VILLAGE - Bron’s House]

Cain awkwardly feigned as yawn as he approached the breakfast table.

“Good morning!” said Bron as Cain sat down at the table. The large man was a much less intimidating sight in daylight. When he had appeared last night, Cain thought he had seen the shadow of a grizzly fall over Jord’s shoulders.

But right now, as the man set out his simple tableware, what came to mind was not a ferocious protector and predator, but rather a stuffed little toy that kids took to bed.

“Hope you had a good night’s rest. Walking for an entire day down the mountain slopes - Even a son of Corbin Village would need to take it easy the next day.”

Cain supposed that was more the dirt and grime than anything else. In the dark of night a little road residue and the lack of good lighting could make anyone look exhausted. As far as how he had felt physically, there hadn’t been even a trace amount of sweat on his brow.

“Morning. Thanks for, y’know, saving my life last night.”

The rugged man let out a laugh. Large and bellowing.

“Jord wouldn’t have done anything to you. That man is afraid of his own shadow - all blustering and quivering. He’s new to the nightwatch, so you’ll have to forgive him. Only came back to Corbin from the big city a month or two ago.”

“Can’t exactly blame him. Still think I should’ve shown up in the morning. Eyes like mine and the dark of night don’t exactly make for a good first impression.”

Cain hadn’t slept the entire night, but that was fine. He didn’t feel fatigued at all. He knew this was weird, but it was becoming par for the course. No hunger, no thirst, and now no sleep. A mild discomfort; not physical, but emotional.

This didn’t feel right.

“So, any plans?”

Cain thought about this, and sighed.

“Nope. No idea what I’m doing. Or who I am or where I came from.”

“Right, amnesia,” said Bron as he scratched his chin. “Well you’re welcome to hole up here for a while. I’m not exactly running out of bread and soup anytime soon. Though maybe somebody else in the village knows who you are? You should take a look around. I’ll introduce you.”

Cain smiled.

“Bron, I -- Are you sure? You’ve been up all night.”

“Nonsense, I can nap later in the afternoon and still be good to go to work. Not to mention look at you. Without an introduction from me, I’m afraid half the village children will turn tail and run the other way!”

A light jab. Cain grinned.

“Oh yeah? Guess I’m in your debt.”

A boisterous laugh.

Cain pondered his fortune.

Really, how lucky had he been? How many men like Bron existed in this world, willing to take in a stranger they’ve never even met before? Especially one who gave off such an intimidating first impression. Maybe that wasn’t the best quality for a night watchman, Cain mused, but at this moment he was incredibly grateful for it.

He’d had to find some way to repay his host.

At the very least, Cain promised himself, he’d try to eat as little as possible.

---

[CORBIN VILLAGE]

The rest of the day was spent going around and introducing himself to all the other villagers with Bron in tow. They were all friendly and welcoming people, and although his eyes seemed to intimidate a few here and there Bron softened that up through his introduction. The man was a comforting presence to the villagers, that much Cain could tell.

It probably helped that he was a head and a half taller than Cain, and could probably subdue him easily if he tried. He was quite sure that at least a few of the villagers trusted in that fact more than Cain’s winning character.

Unsurprisingly, however, none of them knew anything about him or where he came from. All of them shook their heads.

He had even asked about the location he had woken up in, and they all replied that as far as they knew there was nothing interesting in that direction.

Cain caught Jord’s eye twice as they made their rounds.

The thin and somewhat shifty man was obviously still suspicious of him, and whenever their eyes met he would break off contact immediately, going back to whatever he was doing or running off.

Cain was a little disheartened.

Was he that scary in the darkness?

They turned the corner, Cain still deep in thought. He was not quite ready for what happened next.

“Bron! You big oaf!”

A loud voice. Excited and cheery.

“C’mere!”

The man beside him shuddered as he was struck by a moving shadow. Cain had barely caught a glimpse of the smaller girl - no, lady - before she had tackled the large man. It took him a second to see the smiles on both of their faces, before he relaxed.

“I haven’t seen you in a month!”

“Sorry about that, Miss Corbin. But since Tanner left the nightwatch, it’s been just Jord, Abigail, and me. Feels like it’s been weeks since I’ve seen the sun.”

They disentangled, Bron gently lowering the young lady to the ground. Well, she wasn’t that young, around Bron’s age, but her smaller stature compared to Bron’s gigantic frame certainly made her look younger in his presence.

The large man was somehow a little more subdued, a little gentler now, Cain noticed.

“But an entire month?”

Miss Corbin’s features scrunched up a little. Cain supposed he might’ve mistaken her for a quiet nobleman’s daughter, had her first impression not had such an impact.

“You’re eating well, right? Bread and soup are all good, but you should have more variety in your diet. Staying up late is hard work.”

Miss Corbin brought her hands up, cradling Bron’s face.

He blushed as she lasered in on his complexion.

“You’re overworking yourself again.”

It was a declaration, not a question. Her hand gently caressed his cheek.

For a moment Cain was sure both of them forgot about his presence, if the little lady had noticed him from the beginning at all. Then it seemed as if time had finally started flowing again for them, and Miss Corbin realized what she had been doing.

She drew her hand back sharply, not out of disgust but more out of surprise for her own actions, and turned her face away from Bron. He couldn’t see her expression from his angle, but Cain sure could.

Downcast eyes. Notes of red peeking through her makeup. She rubbed the fingers together on her right hand - the one that she had seemingly lost control over just moments ago.

Ooooh.

So that’s how it was.

Cain subtly took a step back. Oh, this was fun to watch.

“Just doin’ my job as the leader, Miss.”

Their eyes met again.

“I know, I know,” she sighed, resigned. “At least come over for dinner once in a while, won’t you? Mother misses seeing you around the household and father... Well, who cares what he thinks?”

A pause.

“I can’t do that,” said Bron ruefully. Cain didn’t know he could make that expression. “Wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for the village elder. I owe him and the rest of your family too much. And besides...”

He closed his eyes.

“...If an unmarried man like myself were around, that would give people the wrong impression.”

Miss Corbin looked as if she had been slapped.

Cain winced.

A brief silence.

“Bron.”

It was as if Cain could see the fire coalesce around her as she got her bearings back. Bron’s eyes widened in... familiarity? He didn’t get to do much else before her right hand flew up in a flash, although this time it wasn’t so gentle.

He yelped as she grabbed him by the ear and dragged him down to her level. Cain stared. The cheerful young lady previously standing on the spot had been replaced by a man-eating tiger.

“I am going to bring you dinner tonight. Something to keep you from killing yourself on the nightwatch. Father won’t be able to say anything about it if he doesn’t know. Are we understood?”

Bron’s yelps were pitiful.

She let go in a huff.

Cain watched them chat for a little bit about nothing. Gossip that Bron had missed working nights. Twins had been born to the Rutherfords. The old granny’s son had gotten himself a promotion in the big city. How the men of the village would probably fare in the next Ermire Martial Festival. How she had been pestering her father to hire more men for the nightwatch.

When she left, the two of them shared one last look that lingered. Then Miss Corbin broke the gaze, and turned around.

And just like that she was gone.

Bron was silent.

Cain wished he had some popcorn.

So invested in what was happening before him, he didn’t notice another pair of prying eyes - ones that didn’t enjoy the view as much as he did.

Jord started from around the corner, his face contorted. His countenance was marred by ugly jealousy.

---

[CORBIN VILLAGE - Bron’s House]

“Is that all you’re going to eat?”

It was evening and they were sitting around Bron’s table again. There was a veritable feast compared to what they had last night.

Miss Corbin had been as good as her word, and had left a variety of smoked meats and nuts, as well as fresh produce that she had apparently procured from her family kitchen. There was too much, and it was all going to rot if he didn’t take any. That's what she said, but Cain doubted it somehow.

“Yep! Not much of an appetite,” said Cain, thumping his chest. “Guess I’ve got a pretty small stomach.”

Cain had taken as little as he could of the food while still having a meal. He didn’t want to make anyone suspicious, after all. But he still felt a little bad about partaking.

They talked throughout dinner. Most Bron telling Cain stories about the people he had met in the village this morning. Considering his situation, Cain didn’t have much to add, but he was an avid listener.

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“...And that’s why Tanner had to leave the watch,” said Bron. “Can’t see at night anymore. Not a problem for farming or hunting, but for the night watch... Well, you can see why that’d be important.”

Cain nodded sympathetically. Looking at the technological level of his surroundings, something like eye surgery probably wasn’t feasible. Or even if it was available, probably not something a common villager like the man Bron was describing could afford.

“We’ve really got a village of colourful people, huh?” mused Bron as he looked at the ceiling. “So, that’s Mister and Missus Rutherford, Jaime, the scarecrow-selling granny... Anybody else you want to know more about?”

“How about...” mused Cain. “The pretty Miss Corbin?”

Bron froze.

Cain grinned.

“Picked up on that, have you.”

“Picked up on that?” repeated Cain, laughing. “I was wading through it!”

Bron’s face flushed. For a moment Cain was afraid he had embarrassed his host, but Bron smiled in return and that worry disappeared into the void. There was a hint of something melancholic on his face, but far stronger than that was the clear affection he held for her.

“Miss Corbin’s the daughter of the village elder, you see,” said Bron. “Miss Amelia Corbin, I should say.”

Cain tilted his head.

“You two seem close.”

“We were,” agreed Bron. “...I guess we still are. It’s kind of a long, boring story. Are you sure you want to hear about it?”

“Hey, I’ve got nothing but time.”

It was evening still - the sky was lit up in orange and purple from the view that Cain could see through the window. Not early enough for anything else to really happen in the day, but also not late enough for Bron to get a start on his duties.

Twilight. That had always been Cain’s favourite time of day. A little fragment of identity broke through, and he learned a little more about himself.

“Hmmm, how do I tell this...” pondered Bron as he swished the milk in his cup around. “See, there was a plague in the northern provinces about fifteen years ago. Ermine Province wasn’t spared. It even got as far as our little village, here.”

The Violet Death. The Rasp.

They had called it that for the way most cases ended, only a few days after first showing symptoms. The faces of the victims would turn pale, then slowly blue, then purple. By then they were barely conscious, a blessing in disguise as their organs failed them one by one. At the end, it all ended in one large raspy breath.

Things were bad in the cities, sure, but there they had mages and medicine men. Many fell ill, but a portion of them survived the cases. Provincial villages like Corbin weren’t so lucky.

The death toll had been high - extremely so. Around a third of the villagers died. Not a third of those who had contracted the disease, a third of the villagers total.

“Both my parents were unlucky,” Bron said, faintly. “I don’t remember either of them that well.”

That was a lie, but Cain didn’t call him out on it.

---

[FLASHBACK]

His father had told him to find the village elder on his deathbed.

It was a sight he could never truly forget, seeing his strong and respected father grasp weakly at him. Hair fell out in chunks, and his skin was a dark violet now despite having been a healthy tan only a week ago. His trembling hands betrayed his pain, but despite his infirmity his father’s gaze was strong.

It was as if he was attempting to take the image of his tear-stained son’s face with him to the afterlife.

Mother’s body, on the other side of the bed, was already cooling. She passed only two hours ago. Bron knew that she wouldn’t be lonely. Her father would go with her soon.

He would be the lonely one.

He was fortunate, he supposed. The Rasp passed him by, despite him doing everything he could to help his parents in their final days. He didn’t make much of an effort to escape the disease. It would be best for the family to travel together.

He didn’t cry, even when he buried the two of them side-by-side in their family’s farm. He took a few things - nothing truly of value, and made his way to Corbin Village.

The village elder had owed his family a favour, and took Bron in.

His first few weeks there were spent in a haze. He wandered around often in the large estate, not quite sure what to do. No chores, not at the moment. Nothing like the farm.

Nobody talked to him. The village elder was too busy dealing with the crisis. He didn’t see the madam anywhere, although sometimes he heard crying at night. The servants had nothing to say; their eyes were all shadowed.

One day he found himself sitting in the worship room, staring at a statue of Deus Lightbringer, the Prime Divinity. The bench was cold.

Nothing to pray for. No desire to worship.

“H-here. It’s for you.”

A meat pie, held out by a little girl in front of him. Amelia Corbin, the daughter. Bron looked at her. The tiny thing was a little younger than him. Her eyes were red. Had she been crying?

He took a bite. It was terrible.

---

[CORBIN VILLAGE - Bron’s House]

“...After that, she never left me alone,” said Bron with a nostalgic smile on his face. “No matter where I went, she was always there. She’d bug me, give me gifts, ask me about my mother and father. To be honest, I hated her.”

Cain said nothing, just listening. Bron wasn’t speaking to him anymore.

“Nobody told me until a few months later, but the Corbin family had a son. An heir. Miss Corbin’s older brother. He had passed only weeks before I had gotten there. Little Miss cried so loudly at his funeral that her father had to punish her, they say.”

He looked to the ceiling.

“But after hearing about me, she still made me a meat pie.”

He had stopped hiding the affection in his voice.

“I sold the farmland,” he muttered quietly. “It wasn’t very good land to begin with and I didn’t know how to make use of it. Father and mother didn’t have the chance to teach me how.”

His affection turned into a sigh.

“Now, I’m just the night watchman, and she’s the village elder’s daughter.”

Cain looked around.

The house they were in - house was perhaps a little generous of a word. It was sturdy, and kept them from the wind and the cold. Cozy in Cain’s opinion, but he knew not everyone saw it that way.

The food on the table was the same way. The soup and bread provided so graciously by his host last night paled in comparison to the food set out before them now.

Cain knew it was time to change the topic.

“Hey, I was wondering if I could help out somehow. You said the nightwatch needed another person?”

Bron broke out of his trance and thought about it, before shaking his head.

“Wish I could, but it’s all got to be approved by the elder. The nightwatch folks need to be vetted first. Make sure no suspicious folks slip in or anything. Sorry about that, friend.”

“No, no. I get it! I did kind of just wander in here yesterday without any papers or anything.”

Bron thought some more.

“But... if you really want to work. How about you join the hunting party tomorrow?”

“Hunting party?”

“Yep. A small nest of blue lizards was found last week. Folks are setting out tomorrow to try and get rid of ‘em. I won’t be joining in since it’s during the day, but Tanner and the others’ll be there. Have you got any hunting or fighting experience?”

“I...”

Cain looked at his arms. He didn’t recall doing anything like hunting or fighting before. Well, not unless it was on a screen anyway.

But as he clenched and unclenched his fists, he thought back to the pop-up window that showed itself whenever he clapped.

“...I think I do.”

---

[CORBIN VILLAGE - Jord’s House]

It wasn’t fair.

She was supposed to belong to him.

He remembered when he had first laid eyes on her. She was radiant, beautiful, and inviting. The picture perfect girl that every man wanted. Her demure nature, the way she presented herself like a porcelain little doll at her father’s side.

A bit of a temper, yes, but a flaw that would go away in time, he supposed. Once he became her husband he could train her properly.

He had asked her father for her hand in marriage the moment she had come of age three years ago, but he had rejected him. Said he couldn’t give her hand away in marriage unless he could prove himself, and so prove himself he did.

He left the village and went to the city. He got himself a job as a stocker with the merchants in town; a position far below him, but a start. Only six months into the job he overheard his boss chattering to another merchant anxiously about a bandit raid on an associate, and how they had made off with six thousand coins worth of merchandise.

That’s when he understood where he was supposed to be.

It didn’t take long for him to find and join them. Ermire Province’s most notorious bandit gang - the Red Riders. He dreamed of treasure, glittering coins, and jewellery that would adorn the luscious skin of his most radiant possession once he managed to obtain her.

But that was not to be either. Bandits were no different from merchants in the end, all the profit went to the leaders. His rancour roiled within him whenever he guarded the main hall of the hideout, hearing the raucous laughter within and the moaning of women.

Sure, he was never at the forefront of the raids on merchants travelling in their territory, but being a rearguard was an important job these fools had no idea how to do!

Two years and change of this, and he was fed up. One night, he had stolen into the vault and filled up a sack full of the bandit’s ill-gotten gains. There had been a large red gem he’d had an eye on for a while, and taking that juicy sucker was the cherry on top for him.

By the next morning, he was out of the hideout and on his way back to Corbin Village - intent on presenting the treasures to the village elder to convince him his daughter was better off in his hands.

But the moment he had returned, he saw how suspicious it would be if he were to pull out such an offering.

What if somebody started up rumours - what if the bandits found him?

The face of his old boss flashed before his eyes, and he shuddered. That flaming red hair and beard would never leave his nightmares. He had seen what the man did to traitors. Been tasked with cleaning the bloodstains off the walls.

And so he had spent his time since his return, neither able to step forward nor backward. Only able to cast his resentful and jealous gaze upon the night watch’s ray of sunshine, and his greedy and lustful eyes upon the village’s beauty.

Impotent and incompetent.

But two months ago, the Red Riders had been destroyed by the Six Orders, hadn’t they?

Maybe... It was time?

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