Book 1: Chapter 38: Forlorn.

Book 1: Chapter 38: Forlorn.

Yesterdays drinking had returned upon my skull as todays hangover, I found. Perhaps -and I meant this in the loosest way possible-, we had overdone it by a small amount. But such thing were inconsequential. I had reaped what my own hand had sown, and now I lived with the aftermath.

Philosophical ramblings proved too little of a distraction as I stumbled along, skull tight and the drums of alcohol pounding at my cerebral flesh. Already, my day was off to a spectacular start. Much to my shock, the knowledge that being able to barely concentrate hindered my ability to harness Skills had been rudely foisted upon me.

As such, my morning tussle with the herd was far less one-sided than I would have preferred. And now I stumbled away, battered and bruised both of body and mind. With a groan, I waved Artyom away as the felinid cautiously approached. Two meager, half-empty buckets of milk in my grasp, I trudged back to storage shack, yanked the door open and plonked them inside.

This monumental task completed, my form betrayed me once more, and soon I found myself in the dirt.

Gods Above, I was a mess.

Legendary amounts of alcohol had been consumed last night -myself the primary culprit- as Ishila had made several runs back to her parents farm for more as we had seen fit to celebrate a successful time together through the night.

All else aside, I had needed an excuse to finally give celebration to something.

Was regret at the forefront of my mind? Indeed.

Would I do it again? Undoubtedly.

Cursed by blurred vision and feeble hearing, I staggered upright, wandered across treacherous land and let myself fall facefirst into the dammed pool of cold water. So delayed were my senses that colds shock took several moments to strike my sensations. But like a hammerblow, it rippled across my body as I lay submerged.

Fully clothed, I let myself simply sit within the pool, in woe as I clutched my skull and contemplated never drinking again. A sound strategem, perhaps.

So invested within my own self-pity was I that Ishila was nearly upon me before I realized the scent upon the wind was hers. The roots of this story extend from novell bìn origin.

My heart sank as I turned to look, and found her with a pack slung over shoulder, a closed expression on her face.

So, this is it. I stood and shook off water. Youve made your decision.

Yah. She replied with a quiet nod. You look like shit, if yah dont mind me sayin.

Youd say it anyhow, if I minded or not. I grunted, somewhat aware of the state I was in. I know now why the call it spirits. Because they always return to haunt you.

Mirthless was the smile that graced her lips now. She probably wanted to laugh, but empathized with my pain. Still, that was not what she was here for. Courtesy, likely.

So, off to follow the call of adventure then. I sighed and rubbed my temples.

Yah. Ishila replied, tone muted. I know it comes at an awkward time for yah, but Ive been waitin on this for way too long to pass it up.

And your parents?

She shook her head and sighed a little, still crouched next to my much larger form. The huntress looked uncharacteristically on edge tonight, her expression twitching in mild ways. Her scent was yet another mess of layers I could not pierce. I realized at this point I had never been able to pinpoint a defined pattern in her smell. Probably a Skill that jumbled it or something.

What do I owe the pleasure to, then?

She shrugged once again, non-commital.

Figured Id drop by. Not much to do at home. Either this or go back and sleep. Chose this.

Yourelonely? I asked cautiously.

Lerish rose to her feet a moment later, her face going from a grimace to flat in a heartbeat.

Mistake coming here. She grunted and turned to stride away.

No, no, Im not judging. I rumbled frantically. Please, sit.

Her form paused mid-stride, then returned and squatted back down to her former position.

There was both tension and understanding in the air now. The lone huntress, always stalking her own path, isolated away from most of civilization, wanted company after all. I empathized with her, I really did. It hit me as to why she visited so often. Not because she wanted something, but because she, like I, craved the company of others.

I didnt push it further, just mildly inquired as to the details of her day and made small talk. It wasnt much, just a fragile understanding that the company kept was preferable to none at all. She sat in silence as I filled in the silence, talking about the plants and my recent breakthroughs. An empty pipe was idly turned between her fingers, and I found the huntress was an excellent listener.

Eventually, the conversation ran dry, and a topic-change was in order. She grunted and nodded as I informed her my debilitating Tax Evader status was gone, gave a few more vocal affirmations as i described the Unbound Blades, then snorted when I told them of their suspicions.

A dungeon? On the Redtip? A fools dream.

I wouldnt know myself, I shrugged and offered her a glass of milk that Artyom had fetched from the shed. She took it and sipped between spurts of talk.

Ive all but lived on and around this blasted mountain for the past few years. Seen nearly every crag and rock with my own eyes- She paused mid dip and grimaced. Eye. An entire dungeon, hidden up that slope? Self-delusion at best.

Ishila seemed to think there was some merit to their theory. I mentioned, and her eyes narrowed.

Where is she anyhow? She usually seems glued to this place.

I noticed her eyes widen, then narrow as I told her that the orc lass had left to adventure with the Unbound Blades, as per their invitation. Her scent flared, and the glass cracked in her grasp. Before I could blink, she was on her feet and already moving across the clearing, headed for back up the mountain.

Another time! Lerish called back over her shoulder, seconds before she vanished from sigh completely.

What had just happened?