Chapter 134: Chapter 133 – Two of a Kind

There was one problem with my plan; I couldn’t control when the Inquisitors decided to make use of Raiju to try and kill me. John wasn’t going to dive headfirst into another scrap now that he was a man down. I convinced Jonell and Ryan to keep an eye out for him. Ryan revealed to me that he didn’t have a deeper connection to the sword like I did with Stigma, he would need to locate it manually like any other.

I wasn’t sitting idly either. I used all of my connections and skills to put out feelers for where they might be. Unfortunately, the Inquisitors had not left themselves wanting for secrecy when it came to their lodgings. Nobody knew a thing about where they were based. I had heard from people who had witnessed them walking through town, but never which door they had gone through to disappear from sight.

Buildings in the city were logged into the council’s registry. It was a gigantic list of names, addresses, signatures and dates that tried to form some structure from the utter madness of the town’s urban development. Many homeowners preferred to ask for ‘planning forgiveness’ rather than planning permission. Large sectors of badly constructed slums were a regular feature, all for the sake of finding easy work in the cities.

I could have asked Warsister Xerces for a favour and gotten a look into the book – but I had to assume that the Inquisitors were at least intelligent enough to use a fake identity when purchasing one of them. There was also no guarantee of a paper trail to a familiar name. That favour would be better used for something else.

I wasn’t happy letting things lie as they were. I wanted to be the one taking the initiative from John. I didn’t want to give him the chance to master the sword and make my life difficult. I placated myself by wandering the streets and methodically checking off every house I could see for clues. I was having little luck finding anything indicative.

Between that my mind churned with ideas for how to deal with the situation. I had come around to the idea of keeping John alive. He was a bastard in full – and I couldn’t forgive him for trying to kill Cali; but my priority was getting the rest of the cursed items from the armoury. Even if I wasn’t the one who finished him off, the Absolver and Adel wouldn’t believe me. They’d withhold them from me for not following their edict. That was a more realistic scenario than the Inquisition splitting down the middle in my eyes.

The only thing I had to go on was Adel’s word. He had claimed that the Absolver was also ignorant as to the real danger of Stigma. That he was being blinded by his scientific curiosity. I was his monster, his pet project, but some pets are simply too dangerous for humans to keep. If he wasn’t careful he’d lose more than an arm or a leg, he’d lose his life too.

In the end, keeping the others separate from John was the keystone in my scheme. I needed to handle the problem myself and convince them to worry themselves with his backup. They could round up the rest and kill them off, I could knock John out and get Raiju back without eliciting unneeded suspicion. Getting into that state was the hard part. I couldn’t go too easy on him, but killing him was a no-go.

I had just completed my morning round and returned to our base for something to eat. Tahar was waiting for me on the steps with a worried look on her face. It always made me feel bad to see such a gallant visage in such a crestfallen mood. “Is something wrong, Tahar?”

She looked away, “No.”

“It doesn’t look like it to me. Why are you waiting on me again?”

“Just wanted to make sure that you are okay.”

I blinked. Here we go again.

“I appreciate the concern, but it isn’t required. You know – I was doing dangerous work for decades before I met you. I can handle myself. Especially now that I’m turning into a damned monster because of this thing.”

Tahar shook her head, “I suppose… you would be better off without me.”

I groaned. “Are you still thinking about that dragon thing? What do you think we do for a living, Tahar?”

She thought about it intently before delivering her answer, “Fight?”

“That’s right. We’re mercenaries. We fight, we get injured. Let me put it like this. The injury I got by pushing you out of the way was fixed with a couple potions. It was nothing, really. I’m the one who can take those kinds of hits. If that tail hit you, you’d be in serious trouble. If I was worried about breaking a couple bones or losing some fingers – I wouldn’t be doing this in the first place.”

“But if I had been more focused, then no such sacrifice would have been needed. I let my fear control my actions. It is a shameful thing for a hunter of my tribe.” I understood that she felt bad about it, but navigating this issue into a healthier place was troubling me.

“If it’s about holding your nerve – then we should move on from worrying about me. It’s already forgiven. I wasn’t upset in the first place.” I placed extra emphasis on my statement to try and put it across to her. If she wanted to look inwards and hone her strength, then that's fine by me. I didn’t want it externalised as a tendency to dote over me like a mother hen.

“I will… seek inner strength,” Tahar nodded. I wasn’t convinced that she had actually listened to me. It was easy to respond to one’s concerns verbally. Doing them was another matter. How many times had I heard the other boys in the orphanage swear on their lives that they’d clean the outhouse properly this time? If I had a silver bar for every time I heard that and it didn’t happen, I’d be living pretty in a big mansion.

Though a personal disagreement was nicer than the ever-escalating outhouse Cold War that had rocked the orphanage back during my youth. You didn’t want to be the sucker who covered for someone not doing the duty properly; that’d encourage more people to skip out. Everyone would suffer through it even as the situation became dangerously close to poisoning the well. A real game of chicken - if the chicken was an overflowing bog.. 

I was dragged back to reality by someone calling my name. Jonell had shown up with his arms crossed. When the hell did he get here?

“What is it?”

He nodded towards Tahar and then turned back to me, “Are you sure it’s safe to get Ryan involved in this? I mean – it’s only been a few weeks since he got injured. I’m worrying myself sick just seeing the poor guy walking around right now.”

I was getting frustrated with this state of affairs. I threw my hands up, “Oh yeah, just fuck me from both ends, why don’t you?”

Jonell didn’t understand my problem, “What?”

“Ryan said he was okay with it. I’m not gonna’ argue with him. He wants to get his sword back. It’s important.”

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“Sure, but is it more important than resting up properly? You’ve seen the state he’s in.”

“I don’t know. He’s not going to stop just because I tell him to. You’ve known him much longer than I have anyway. Why don’t you do it?”

“You’re a lot scarier than me.”

“I’m not going to punch him out if he doesn’t comply. I don’t know what you expect me to do.”

Jonell was visibly frustrated with me. Ryan had eagerly jumped at the chance to go out and search for Raiju. Short of physically restraining him there wasn’t much I could do or say to change his attitude. He felt it was important enough to risk his health for. I’d put myself into similar situations before. I couldn’t pass judgement on him for wanting to keep a good weapon by his side. That was the thing tipping the scales in his favour.

Jonell sighed, “You know – I think Ryan’s more open with you than he is me. I don’t really know much about him at all. He doesn’t like talking about himself.”

“Have you asked him before? Maybe there isn’t much to tell.”

Ryan struck me as a normal guy from my world. If he was trying to keep the ‘outworlder’ thing quiet, then he’d just choose to stay silent instead of trying to contextualise such a difference in background from the average person here.

“I thought there’d be a big, amazing story behind how he got his hands on Raiju. They say it only appears to people with just hearts, or something like that. He did say that much. It appeared in front of him when he was lost in the Bend a few years ago. A bolt of lightning striking the ground, and there it was, still red hot from the heat of the thing.”

I chuckled, “He doesn’t think he’s worthy, I’d say. Good people don’t really think about it too much, being good. It’s just something that they do. It probably came as a big surprise to him. What did he do to deserve something like that? Must be something he’s going to do in the future, I’d reckon.”

‘Good’ in this sense was more than being a law-abiding person. A lot of laws throughout history were intended to penalise a particular group of people, not because they conferred safety or reinforced a moral wrong. What made a good person was a complicated path to tread down. To me though, it was simple; selfless, honest, unwilling to hurt innocent people. But those were the values that I had been instilled with, and not everyone would agree with my criteria.

I didn’t know anything about how Raiju’s users were ‘chosen,’ was it someone with biases like me? Or was it something intrinsic to the world, powered by magic or concepts? Either way, Ryan was the type of blissful idiot that fitted that idea to a T.

“Are you trying to say that you think he doesn’t trust you?”

Jonell tensed up as I cut to the heart of the matter, “Well, that’s only natural given what happened…”

“There’s nothing to suggest that he doesn’t,” I replied curtly, “Good friends tend be to straight to the point on this kind of thing. He’s thinking the exact same thing that you are. Whatever monster took a bite out of him was just a consequence of being there in that fight.”

“I could have done something!”

“So? Everyone can do something, the problem is, we can’t go back and make the optimal decision when something goes wrong. And there are more moving pieces than just you. There were hundreds of other soldiers, and Ryan made his own choices at that moment too. He’s looking back on that and telling himself he shouldn’t have focused on killing that giant without considering his escape route.”

Jonell bit his tongue and swayed back and forth. He was frustrated.

I snapped my finger at him, “I could take a tough love approach and tell you to suck it up.”

He waved me away, “No. I’m fine. You’re right. But I still don’t want to put myself in a position where I’m the difference maker again. I’m not good enough.” Tahar perked up, leaning forward from her position against the wall.

“You curse your weakness, as do I.”

Jonell was still a little too timid around Tahar for my liking. Was it because she was too tall for him? He offered nothing in response, shying away and averting his gaze. Tahar was trying to be sympathetic at that moment, but Jonell wasn’t picking up on it.

I moved things along, “Listen, when we go and get this thing back from them – I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to, either of you. That means no killing people, and no positions of responsibility. Happy?”

“Well, not really,” Jonell objected, “That doesn’t solve my problem.”

“I can’t solve that problem for you. Until you do, I'm going to have to position you somewhere you feel comfortable.” Jonell didn’t have ground to stand on. He’d admitted to it just moments ago. I couldn’t trust him with this if he wasn’t going to give it an earnest effort.

He kicked the dirt and cursed to himself; “Agh, shit. What the hell am I supposed to bloody do?”

I could have been mean and said ‘get over it,’ but I don’t imagine that was what he wanted to hear.

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