Book 4: Chapter 31: Alyssa's Son

Book 4: Chapter 31: Alyssa's Son

Miguel raced down the empty street, spear in hand, as he heard another scream emanate from within the alley ahead. He skidded to a stop, turning to see three burly young men surrounding a small figure curled on the ground. The largest of the attackers aimed a kick at the victim, but he never had the chance to connect. Instead, Miguel barreled into him.

To Miguel, it felt like he’d just collided with a brick wall, but he was moving fast enough that he managed to send the unsuspecting young man stumbling into a nearby trash can. The impact sent garbage scattering across the alley. The would-be attacker tripped over the can, ending up sprawled on the trash strewn ground.

Meanwhile, Miguel planted, then swept his spear around to trip the next nearest young man. Once again, it felt like he’d hit a telephone pole, but the inertia of his swing knocked the feet out from under the young man. Finally, Miguel aimed a front-kick at the final assailant, who turned out to be tall, rangy girl. The blow took her in the stomach, and she stumbled backward, gasping for air.

Miguel set his feet over the fallen figure, then leveled his spear, shifting it from one opponent to the next.

“Don’t,” he spat, the deadly blade hovering only a few inches from the first bully’s face. “I swear to God, if you do what I think you’re about to do, I’ll rip out your throat. You’re a Warrior, right? That means you probably have Heavy Blow active. That means you’re getting ready to activate Shockwave. Don’t. I’ll kill you before it charges up.”

“You won’t get us all,” said the girl. “I’ll roast you before you –”

“That makes you a Sorcerer, then. Ethereal Bolt, right? You know how quickly I can impale you with this spear? Less than a second. I know because it wouldn’t be my first time. Your little spell won’t mean much when you’ve got a foot of steel in your belly,” Miguel stated, his voice calm despite the hammering of his heartbeat.

He flicked his eyes toward the young man who’d been his second victim. He’d landed hard, banging his head on the ground. It hadn’t knocked him unconscious, but it had clearly dazed him. That meant he was a low-Constitution archetype. Probably a Ranger, but he could just as easily have been a non-combatant. Maybe one of the rare ones. Miguel didn’t think he was a Healer, though. If he was, then he’d have already mended his budding concussion.

“This doesn’t have anything to do with you!” growled the Warrior.

“Seems like it has plenty to do with me,” Miguel said, staying on the balls of his feet, just like he’d been taught. It wasn’t so different from when he’d played soccer before Earth had been touched by the World Tree. He needed to be ready to move at the slightest provocation. “I can’t stand by and let you beat someone up three-on-one.”

“We got a hero over here,” said the girl with a snort. “You think you’re some kind of fairy tale knight? Prince Charming, maybe?”

Miguel didn’t rise to the taunt, instead keeping himself ready for battle. He didn’t want to kill anyone, but if it came down to it, he wouldn’t hesitate. While some of his sharp edges had been filed down over the past few months of relative peace, the mindset that had seen him through the journey across the wilderness wasn’t buried so deep that it wouldn’t return at the slightest provocation.

“Just leave,” he said after a moment. “Call it a draw. You go your way, I’ll go mine.”

“That little bitch deserves to –”

Just then, a loud meow came from the head of the alley. Miguel’s eyes flicked in that direction, and he almost grinned when he saw Artemis standing there. She didn’t look particularly intimidating – not to Miguel at least – but he knew she was a deadly predator. Clearly, the trio of bullies knew that as well, because the moment they laid eyes on the giant Maine coon, they paled.

“W-what...the...is that your cat?”

“She’s a friend,” Miguel said. “Just leave. She won’t attack. Not unless she has to.”

That did the trick. The three bullies quickly regained their feet and raced out of the alley. Miguel found it amusing how they pressed their backs against the wall so they wouldn’t have to get any closer to Artemis than absolutely necessary. Once they were gone, the cat sat and started grooming herself. She’d never even made a threatening move, but the danger she represented was enough to send those bullies running.

Elijah could do the same when he wanted. Sure – he usually didn’t, instead preferring to wear a friendly mask. But Miguel had seen a few flashes of the man beneath.

The same was true of Colt.

And his mother. Both of them, really. Carmen was only a Blacksmith, but she was made of sterner stuff than most Warriors.

That was what Miguel wanted. Not because he intended to bully people into submission, but rather because he knew he’d need the power it represented. If he was strong enough, then nobody would dare mess with him or his family.

Once he was sure the bullies were gone, Miguel finally turned around to get a good luck at the person he’d saved. She was tiny – well under a hundred pounds – and looked like she was made of skin and bones. What’s more, a good chunk of her black hair had been ripped out, leaving only a bloody scalp behind, and most of the skin Miguel could see was purpled with bruising.

He knelt beside her, saying, “It’s okay. They’re gone.”

Stolen novel; please report.

“But don’t eat it all at once, or it’ll knock you out,” Miguel supplied.

“Right. Low attributes,” Elijah muttered. “Better make it a half, then. That should be enough.”

The girl clearly didn’t know what to do, and her eyes flicked back and forth from Elijah to Miguel, then to Carmen and the pair of men who’d been tasked with standing guard at the entrance. They were part of Dion’s Builder crew, and they were meant to prevent any of the local population from walking off with the valuable Dragonstone.

“I...I tried to take...uh...something that wasn’t quite mine,” the girl admitted with a defeated sigh. “But it wasn’t my fault. They took it first.”

“Took what?” asked Elijah.

“My dad’s ring. I told them it wasn’t valuable, but they didn’t care. They took everything else, too,” the girl breathed. “It wasn’t much. But if it’s gone when my brother gets back...”

“Where is your brother?”

“Running the tower,” she said. “He’s an adventurer. He keeps saying that he’s going to strike it rich, but I think he’s just looking for a way out of Argos. He wants to get strong enough to go to a bigger city and...and...every time he leaves, people like Nikolas and Gabby come around. I tried to fight them, but...but I don’t have an archetype yet. And...and...”

By that point, she’d started sobbing.

Elijah awkwardly patted her on the head, saying, “There, there.”

“Elijah.”

“What?”

Carmen shook her head, saying, “You’re terrible at this. Are you done healing her?”

“Sure. She’s pretty malnourished, though.”

“Well, give her the berry, then,” Carmen said. “Then let me take over.”

Elijah shrugged, saying, “Be my guest. I have a tree to tend to anyway.” Then, he muttered something about trees being easier. Whatever the case, he handed the berry over, then left the area.

“What’s your name?” Carmen asked, helping the girl to her feet. She was skin and bones, evidence of the hard life she had led. Whoever her brother was, he had failed to do his job of providing for his sister. “And where are your parents?”

“Dead.”

“Oh. I’m sorry,” Carmen said with a shake of her head.

“Happened a while ago,” the girl answered, her shoulders drooping dramatically.

Then, without warning, she disappeared. It actually took Carmen a moment to recognize that she’d used some sort of ability. And that the coin purse she kept tied to her belt was missing.

“What the...what the hell just happened?” she muttered.

“That was so cool,” Miguel breathed, looking around as if he was going to find the girl. But Carmen felt certain that she was long gone. How she’d done it was a bit of a mystery – clearly, she was a little more developed than she seemed – but beyond that, Carmen had no idea what had happened.

She sighed.

“That was definitely not cool,” she said. “Not cool at all.”