Chapter 323: Chapter 320: A Chance & A Choice

Chapter 320: A Chance & A Choice

 

  The infirmary room buzzed with the sounds of what Freya deemed unnecessary chatter. She wished she could just walk out of the room and leave her friends talking amongst themselves, but she couldn’t get out of bed, let alone walk.

  The doctors and White mages had done the best they could to heal her broken ribs, kneecaps, and wrist, but such serious injuries took time to heal. White magic could only go so far, the body had to do the rest. If there had been an elemental life mage then perhaps she might already be walking. Instead, she was forced to lie in bed, her limbs all bandaged up, and was forced to listen to this gibberish.

  “Are you even listening, Freya?” Callum poked her wrist.

  “Ow, dammit that hurts!” Freya snapped.

  “It wouldn’t have hurt if you had just listened to me and forfeited the match in the first place!” Callum said.

  “I swear to you, Cal, when I get out of this bed I’m gonna smack the shit out of you,” Freya growled.

  “And there you go again, always so focused on fighting,” Callum sighed and threw his hands up in resignation, “You’re worse than Stryg and that’s saying something.”

  “You… You know I’m right here, right?” Stryg said from the corner of the room.

  Callum ignored him and gestured to Freya’s bandaged body, “If you hadn’t been so keen on fighting Calex this wouldn’t have happened.”

  Sylvie cleared her throat, “Ahem, well, I think—”

  “You’re one to talk, Cal!” Freya yelled. “You fought Kalliste and ended up in worse shape than I ever did. You’re still wearing bandages for Bellum’s sake!”

  Sylvie coughed loudly, “Can I speak, pleas—”

  “That’s because I’ve known Kalliste my whole life!” Callum shouted. “I know what she’s like and what she is capable of! I knew my limits and hers! You on the other hand don’t know anything about Calex!”

  Sylvie eagerly raised her hand, “I’d like to say something—!”

  “So just because I don’t know his fucking life schedule I’m supposed to what? Run away? Give up?” Freya frowned.

  “If it means not dying, then yes!” Callum said. “Don’t you get it? Lady Thorn wanted to kill you. She hates us!”

  “I’ll take my chances. I’d rather die than live my life as a coward,” Freya said with contempt.

  Calex glared at her, “How can you be so stubborn—!?”

  “CAN I SPEAK!?” Sylvie screamed from the top of her lungs.

  Freya and Callum flinched at the harsh sound.

  “S-Sylvie…?” Callum asked hesitantly.

  Sylvie took a deep breath to calm herself then clapped her hands, “I just wanted to say a couple of things. First of all, while you were all bickering like a couple of donkeys, Stryg walked out.”

  “O-oh, I didn’t notice,” Freya mumbled.

  “He does that on occasion. Just disappears, like woosh, gone,” Callum said dramatically.

  “AND SECOND OF ALL!” Sylvie glanced pointedly at Callum and Freya, “Anyone else wanna interrupt? Hmmmm?”

  Callum and Freya shook their heads ardently.

  “Good,” Sylvie nodded with satisfaction. “As I was saying; Freya, I think you fought splendidly.”

  “T-thanks,” Freya whispered sincerely.

  “Uh-huh. Callum was worried sick while you fought but you showed him! I swear he was on the verge of tears when you fell.”

  Freya looked at him, surprised, “Cal…?”

  “...I was a little worried,” Callum looked away and shrugged, though his pale cheeks were a rosy red.

  “We’re a team, we look out for each other, isn’t that right, captain?” Sylvie smiled.

  “Yeah… Yeah, it is,” Freya smiled.

  “And don’t you worry about Calex, I’ll make him pay,” Sylvie slammed her fist into her open palm.

  “Are you sure you can beat him?” Callum asked anxiously.

  “Pfft, are you really asking me if I can beat up that skinny twig who looks like he hasn’t properly eaten once in his whole life? Of course, I can! I never lose!” Sylvie grinned.

~~~

  Stryg wandered aimlessly through the infirmary’s halls. Several Katag guards silently followed behind him several paces away. Usually, Stryg was quite annoyed by their presence. He didn’t like being followed, even by those with good intentions. But as he walked through the halls he forgot about their presence.

  The infirmary’s rooms were full of victims of last night’s attack. The valley tribesmen had ended the lives of entire families and left holes in countless others. 

  As he walked, Stryg glanced into the rooms. Some lay unconscious, bandages wrapped around bloody stumps where they once had limbs. Others cried in pain, from their injuries or for the ones they lost, Stryg did not know.

  Stryg paused when he looked into a certain room. A drow mother sat next to a bed, watching over her small child who struggled to breathe and keep his eyes open.

  Stryg unconsciously clenched his jaw before he turned and kept walking, this time with a brisk pace. 

  What would these people give to have a chance at avenging their families?

  He glanced at his hands and clawed fingers, What would I give to avenge the ones I’ve lost?

  It was the scent that he remembered. It was the scent of moss, stale air, and soil that brought back the memories of that cave. The cave where he had first tasted true loss. Even now, he could still hear Bril’s horrified scream as one of the lamias dragged her away. The sound of her bones breaking underneath the lamia’s coiled tail still echoed in Stryg’s thoughts.

  Second Mother’s panicked voice as she tried to rally the remaining goblins for a hopeless last stand… There was no light, the cave had been covered in darkness. Ostroz, Srixa, Crovor, none of them could see, but Stryg could. He was the only one who could see the sheer terror etched across his tribemates’ faces as the lamias picked them off one by one.

  I don’t want to die. It was the sole thought that had echoed in his mind that night. 

  He had run away from his tribe, he had abandoned them to save himself. They were gone and he was still here.

  He had failed to stand by his tribemates, he had failed to die honorably amongst them. He had lived, when his tribemates had died. When Clypeus had died. He still lived...

  Stryg stopped in his footsteps and looked out a hallway window, staring at the Glimmer Grove treeline in the distance.

  He gripped the windowsill tight. “That’s right, I’m still alive,” he whispered to himself. “I can still fight.” 

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  He had sworn to win this tournament, just as Clypeus had dreamed of. But when it was over…

  “...I’m going back,” Stryg whispered with resolve.

  He would return to that damned cave and finish what the Blood Fang Tribe had started.

  “Yo, Aspirant!” a cheerful voice called out.

  Stryg pulled himself away from the window and looked down the hall. A giant orc waved his arm up high, his fingers brushing the ceiling. “Gilgard Morrigan…?”

  “Good afternoon,” Gilgard smiled widely.

  His younger sister stood half-hidden behind his tall, brawny frame. Unlike her brother, Beatrix stared at the blue goblin with wariness.

  The Katag guards stepped forward and formed a wall in front of Stryg. Though they did not draw their weapons as usual.

  Gilgard looked the guards over and nodded, “It seems you have some steadfast warriors, good. You’ll need it, after last night’s debacle. How is the family, by the way? We haven’t had a chance to stop by yet.”

  “Family?” Stryg cocked his head to the side.

  Why was this giant orc asking about Feli, Rhian, and Maeve? Or maybe he was talking about Nora and Kamilo? No, that made even less sense.

  “Yeah, how are uncle Krall and auntie Evelyn?” Gilgard said casually.

  “Auntie Evelyn…?” Stryg furrowed his brow.

  “Wait, you don’t know?” Gilgard asked, amazed. “The Katags are our distant cousins, though our families have always kept a close relationship. You see, Katag I and Morrigan I were brother and sister. They came to the Ebon Realm together.”

  Stryg glanced back and forth between the Morrigan siblings, “So that means…”

  “You and us are family now,” Gilgard grinned wholeheartedly.

  “Family…?” Stryg mumbled.

  “Congrats on your engagement with Elena!” Gilgard laughed.

  “Right…” 

  With everything going on he had almost forgotten.

  “Hey, say something too,” Gilgard nudged his sister.

  Beatrix sent her brother an annoyed glare, but she turned to Stryg and bowed in a formal curtsy, as was custom among the Ebon aristocrats. “Greetings, Aspirant Stryg from the Tribe of Ebon Hollow.”

  Stryg bowed his head in turn, “Hello, Beatrix Morrigan.”

  Beatrix smiled, the Aspirant hadn’t called her dai-Morrigan. “Congratulations on your engagement with my cousin. I do hope Lunae and Bellum smile upon you both and bring you happiness.”

  I’m a bad omen from Lunae, so I doubt she really cares about my happiness. “T-thanks…” Stryg said uneasily. Maybe Bellum cares for Elena at least? The Katag family has worshiped her for centuries, maybe that makes a difference? Or maybe it doesn’t whatsoever. Bellum’s the chief patron of vampires, not orcs. But Bellum is the goddess of war and the Katags are a martial House—

  “Stryg…?” Beatrix said hesitantly.

  “Huh? What?” Stryg blinked.

  “I was asking how are your wounds after last night’s ambush?” she glanced pointedly at his leg.

  “My wounds?”

  “Your limp. I noticed it during your match with Kalliste Lilith this morning.”

  Was it really that obvious? Stryg frowned. He had tried his best to hide it, but clearly he had failed spectacularly.

  “I’m fine now,” Stryg wiggled his leg.

  “Wow? It doesn’t hurt at all?” Gilgard said, amazed.

  “I heal quickly,” Stryg said.

  “Hm…” Beatrix stared suspiciously.

  “So what are you two doing here?” Stryg asked. “Looking for a healer?”

  “No, we’re fine, our healers did a wonderful job tending our wounds,” Gilgard said.

  Except my mana flow is still all messed up and probably won’t recover for several more weeks, but sure, I’m ‘totally fine’, Beatrix thought bitterly.

  “You lost one of your teammates, right?” Stryg recalled. “Have you buried him yet?”

  Gilgard’s smile disappeared, “I heard you were very blunt.” He shook his head solemnly, “No, Hallus’ body was carefully enchanted for preservation and sent back to Murkton for a proper burial deserving of a warrior.”

  “So why are you both here then?”

  “I came to drag my brother away from that spoiled Sientia girl,” Beatrix crossed her arms.

  “Spoiled? You mean Veronica?” Stryg asked.

  “Despite what my sister believes, Veronica was not my main reason for coming here today,” Gilgard clicked his tongue.

  “So he says,” Beatrix said skeptically.

  “Then why did you come?” Stryg asked.

  “You’re family now,” Gilgard said, “So I wanted to give you some advice, regarding a particular drow girl and her mysterious giant sword.”

 

 

 

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