Chapter 50: Life is not what we imagined

 Allan: Healer hopeful, kitchen helper. Rethinks his life's choices.

I haven't slept a wink. I can still see the gore, still hear the screams of the dragon as it was being butchered. Perhaps the word roar will be more apt for a creature like a dragon, but by the time it died, I swear that it was whimpering. 

My hands are shaking again. I do my best to steel them. To keep putting one foot before the other. We are going to go in concealing, both Tine and me.

 Must be nice, for the rest to feel nothing at the death of a being. Still, the rest are coming for moral support. That is nice of them. Augustine takes a hold of my hand, when we near the office building where the clinic is. 

"The doctor is going to fix us," he murmurs. I wonder if he believes in that, himself. Or, if it is just something he likes to tell himself. 

"What if she can't? What if we get like this every time, we kill something that you can't calm down with your music beforehand?" I ask him. Augustine grips my hand harder. 

"We will be fine," he says, as the two of us step through the door that Dean is holding open for us. It is a flight of stairs up, and we are soon both lying on couches, as the rest are sitting on chairs by the windows. 

"I hear you wish to be adventurers, but don't want to kill?" The therapists asks. The sound of her writing on her clipboard is soothing. 

"It is not like we can't kill," Augustine says after a while. "I have no problems with spiders." 

"What was it that made you nauseous?" She asks. Man, she really doesn't mince her words. Augustine doesn't answer. 

"It was the screaming," I say, when it becomes obvious that Augustine wants to keep his silence. "The dragon was half-screaming, half-whimpering, by the end. I know that it would have killed and eaten us, if we haven't taken care of it. But if we hadn't gone to the cavern, it would have been no threat to us, in the first place." 

"That is true," she says, and jolts something down on the clipboard. After a while, she taps the board three times. "How many people do you think the dragon has killed, so far?" 

I blink at that. What sort of question is that? How am I supposed to know? 

"Another question: if an adventurer can't protect the civilians, then who? Don't you know that Gorerian is 100 kilometers from the closest military outpost? Around these parts, the adventurers are the only ones that can guarantee the safety of the people. Or, do you think someone else can step up?" She asks. 

"Our contracts," Augustine begins, but she is speaking again. 

"And the final question, gentlemen. Just what are you doing? What are you risking your lives for? If you can't kill a mob, without losing your composure, are you really adventurers? Perhaps, you should think about a change of occupation?" I get up from the couch, and sit on it instead. 

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"Vincent wants to be a hero. We can't stop being adventurers, until he makes his dream come true," I tell the therapist. She nods, and jolts some more on her clipboard. 

"You are all just children," I bite my tongue, wanting to argue with her. Yet, if we were men, and not just children playing at being adventurers, we wouldn't be here. "With big dreams. Yet, you are strong children. I can't speak any other way about you, seeing as you have killed a fully grown dragon. So, this is what you should do. Quit being adventurers." 

"We can't, I told you!" I begin, but she holds up her hand. 

"He will never become a hero, as long as he has the adventurer's mindset. Heroes are no goofballs," she says. I can see the truth in that. Even Leander became a healer hero only after his demeanor cooled, and he got more competence on his side. Or so the legends claim. "Become soldiers instead. Go on deployments, rather than quests. Become numb to killing. It won't be healthy for you, but that is the only way he will ever become a hero." 

I glance at Vincent, who looks at me pleadingly. Am I ready to give up my chance at an easy life for him? Do I love him enough? 

"As I said, that is not the healthy thing to do," she says, and then takes out a prescription note. She jolts some things on it. "I don't think you are ready to be adventurers now, or that you will ever be ready. Become civilians. These pills will help you sleep." 

"We do have it in us," Augustine says, as he too gets up from the couch he was lying on. "We just need the practice." 

"I stand by my observation," the therapists says. "If you need more pills, come back. If you need something stronger, I will have to speak with guild master Warren to take you off the rooster for the more intensive quests." 

"That won't be necessary," Augustine says, as he takes the prescription. "We can prove you wrong. Not only are we not quitting, but all of us will become heroes."  

All five of us go to the apothecary, and see that the guild master, and Warren Junior, who looks about five years of age now, are waiting outside. I nod at him, and smile at Warren Junior. 

"He is confused," guild master Warren says, when we linger in the hallway. "And having dreams." 

"Well, this therapist is going to ask him to quit being a kid," Augustine snarks. Warren Junior chuckles at that. Still, the bags under his eyes are clear to be seen. 

"If you lot can't handle it all," the guild master lets his words trail off. I step forward, so that the light of the lamp can light up my entire face. 

"You are looking at five heroes in the making. Pity you won't cash in the Super Special Security Deposits," I say. 

Guild master Warren nods at that, looking almost proud. It is a rare thing, for someone to be proud of me. He is the first person who believed in me, now that I think about it. He gave me Leander's staff. The only way I know how to repay him, is to get rid of my aversion to blood. There is only one way to do that. 

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