Chapter 101 Sleepover

“…Then what is it you’ve come to say?” Alekkai asked.

Chief Hurun looked at him, “Do not die for this vengeance, young Alekkai.”

“This is not for revenge—the Outriders are—!”

The man was interrupted by the elder, “You can say such things, but I know what stirs you, young Alekkai. Words may leave your lips, but your eyes speak the truth; a thousand flames burn in your gaze.”

“—” Alekkai looked at him before returning his gaze over the bridge.

Rain continued falling harder now, pattering against the wooden bridge that became moist and cold, though the hot-blood of the Verma were unfazed by the cold.

“The previous champion failed to bring the Outriders down. They’re strong and without restraint; no shackles of morality restrain their hostility; no honor, no mercy. They consume our own kin, and any who pass through their territory. The Outriders are predators not unlike a rabid bear,” Chief Hurun said, “—You know better than anybody how strong the last champion, your brother, was. Even somebody like him failed.”

Alekkai was silent for a moment before responding, “Amenkai was mighty. He was always better than me at fighting—he had the strength of a mountain, and the ferocity of a waterfall, but…he was unprepared. The Outriders ambushed him on that day.”

“That’s the nature of fighting them. Do you believe you can outmaneuver such fiends?” The Chief asked.

Alekkai nodded, “I can. I will. For my brother, Amenkai. For my son, Tasman.”

The Chief began to walk away, “Well, don’t drag that child to his death. That’s the least you can do.”

The man was surprised that the Chief already knew of the plan to have the human boy help on the attack against the Outriders, but such was the nature of the Chief.

“Of course. I’ll make sure of that,” Alekkai said, “Nobody else. Nobody else will die to their hands.”

It wasn’t just him.

There were many within the village who shared the same scars, both unseen and not. Mothers mourned their lost sons, and fathers scolded their own lack of strength. Though the village remained in good spirits, it wasn’t without its spots of despair.

Alekkai saw this all; watching from up above, their pain was clear to him.

Before the red-haired father and husband reunited with the others for dinner, who walked to the back of the tree-embedded house to a small memorial tucked away. It was caressed by intertwined branches.

The memorial was a sword, which he ran his fingertips over slowly with a look of sorrow in his eyes.

Brother, Alekkai thought.

Beside the resting blade was another blade, though smaller, it was decorated with a small charm for good fortune, which the mourning father held between his fingertips.

Though the man wanted to smile when remembering the source of that charm, his expression was of anguish.

My son, he thought.

He stayed knelt, bowing his head in front of the incense-smoked memorial, which not even the rain could touch; his eyes were kept closed as he paid his respects.

I will return victorious. For you, and for everybody that has been lost to them. I promise…they will not take anymore lives, Alekkai thought.

—

As dinner was already served in the form of forest boar meat and special rice that was seasoned with tangy spices, the red-haired man returned.

The young boy already had his mouth full with a slab of cooked boar meat, gulping it down.

“How is it?” The woman asked with a smile.

“Great! I’ve never had something flavored like this before! It’s kind of sweet, and sort of spicy?” He said, “…I’d love to know the recipe.”

“I’m glad you like it! It’s a family secret, though,” she cheekily responded.

Alekkai watched from the door for a minute, left silent by the sight of the bot at the dinner table.

To the man’s eyes, he didn’t quite see Emilio, but in his eyes, he saw a lost figure that resembled the boy—a person he missed.

“Dear, your food will get cold! Come!” She ushered her husband to sit.

Alekkai slowly nodded, “…Right.”

The portion sizes that the Verma ate were incredibly large; it was enough to make him question how Alekkai maintained what looked like a body fat percentage below the five percent range, but he already knew the answer.

He had witnessed people coming and going from the village, and those who weren’t venturing out were still moving—children played and elders tended to farming.

Simply, the Verma people were incredibly active.

After this meal, he had to sit down and caress his stomach as he felt bloated, groaning out.

“Heh. The appetite of a Verma is said to be equal to a behemoth,” Alekkai said.

He exhaled, “I can believe that.”

The sun dipped below the horizon as the veil of the night came. It was a cold one; the rain never stopped and the winds sang melodies below the stars.

“Come, Emilio, you’ll sleep with us,” Alekkai offered.

He didn’t know exactly what that meant, but it was likely better than staying uncovered during the brisk night as he nodded and followed Alekkai into the next room over.

The beds that the Verma used were similar to futons, but made of grass and intertwined straw. They were lined up together, with an extra being brought out by Mienna, who placed his directly beside Alekkai.

He watched as the man, his wife, and the daughter got into their resting positions, using blankets that were made out of animal fur, which looked comfortable and toasty.

“–” He stood there for a moment.

“What is it? Lay,” Alekkai said.

“…Yeah, sure.”

The thing he was hesitant about was snuggling up a bit too close to a grown man, but he obliged since it was simply rude of him to refuse.

The four shared a large, thick blanket made out of wool fur; it was warm and easily comfortable. As the rain continued to fall harder through the night, it helped him sleep.

What didn’t help him find rest were the beastly snores that came from Alekkai, who laid in an unorthodox way, resting his heavy leg on the boy’s body as if he were a pillow.

Just great, he thought.