Chapter Thirty-One: A Walk through the Woods

Chapter Thirty-One: A Walk through the Woods

After Tom and Sesame had healed, they headed back out into the Deep. Val gave him a grin that might've been proud.

Way I see it, youve still got two more skills to manifest. Good luck, she said sternly, as she sent them on their way.

And so Tom and Sesame spent another week, camping out at night, and ranging the Deep during the day.

They fought more monsters, and overcame each challenge. Only twice more did they require healing from Val, and even then, they probably could have managed without. Tom was learning to rely more on the buffs provided by Sweet Suffering, and hed even begun to try out some of the alchemical concoctions provided by Bubbles.

The potions, or poisons, more accurately, that he had provided Tom, were a marvel. One sent strength surging through Toms limbs, so great that he even managed to out-wrestle Sesame. Another drew his vision to a pinpoint. He could see the veins on a leaf far up in the canopy in the meagre dawn light. Luckily, he hadnt taken that one before a fight, and the effects only lasted a few minutes.

The first time they needed Val was after a tense battle with an enormous tortoise. Tom had thought it would be easy, at first, but the thing was capable of incredible bursts of speed over short distances, and its snapping jaws could reach much further than he anticipated. To top it off, it was rock-attuned, and its shell was near impenetrable. In the end, the pair traded off who kept its attention, and eventually it collapsed after the built up damage from Agony became too much.

The second instance was a particularly desperate fight against a badger. The irascible thing was only marginally larger than a normal badger, but had some kind of rage and speed abilities. Tom ended up covered head to toe in lacerations, and Sesame was utterly exhausted, if not heavily injured, due to being unable to keep up with the explosive speed of the creature.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

It was there that Grit truly proved its worth for the first time. The longer the fight dragged on, and the more wounds that accumulated, the tougher Tom became. As he became more sluggish from blood loss, he found that the rending claws of the badger also had a harder and harder time actually wounding him. Misery, Echo and Whisper all put in work wearing the badger down, every bit of damage it dealt to Tom being repaid in kind. Eventually, Hush gave Sesame a chance to clip it with his roar. The massive bear then pinned the thing to the ground by one of its legs, and the fight was swiftly finished.

Tom was steadily becoming more comfortable as an Idealist. It took a drastic change in mindset to start truly relying on ones skills, and the best way to force yourself to rely on them was by fighting.

Tom learned to accept damage if it meant being able to land a solid strike in return, sure in the knowledge that he could heal from most wounds, and that any damage he took would only result in more damage to his opponent, and end the fight quicker anyway.

Where there was the possibility of being outright killed or severely wounded from one or two attacks, he learned patience, learned to trust in Agonys damage over time, and Hush to provide him with a respite if needed.

When an enemy was particularly quick or agile, like the badger or the shadowy panther, he used a combination of Misery and Hush to level the field.

The greatest benefit of all, however ,came from increased coordination with his familiar. As Sesames intelligence settled and grew, and as they fought more battles together, their teamwork became increasingly fluid.

Each could act as a bulwark, taking damage to give the other an opportunity to attack. Sesame was excellent at controlling space with his roar, and heavy physical attacks. Both of them learned to trust the others abilities, stepping in to help when needed, waiting when it was right as well.

Tom found himself wishing he knew more of woodscraft. The more time he spent in the Deep, the more he was growing to like it. If he was more knowledgeable, he was sure there would be innumerable treasures to find, for any bold or unlucky enough to be out here. He especially wished he had not trampled so many of the little white flowers.

Already he was becoming increasingly proficient in moving silently, in finding the easiest paths, in building his instincts for danger or opportunity. Without being hunted by orcs, he had the time to truly apply himself to adapting to life out here, instead of simply eking out an existence, and hoping each day that he would live to see the next.

The biggest difference in him was psychological. As he grew more confident in his skills, the pervasive fear that filled him on his Reapings ebbed away. He trusted himself to be able to overcome all but the most extreme monsters out here, and if he ran into any of them, he was sure he could escape. Having Sesame close at all times, watching his back, and Val always lurking nearby, made a huge difference too. He found he trusted them both unconditionally.

Perhaps the most startling thing, more so than him enjoying the Deep, was that he was not resentful at having been sent here. He thought of Wayrest often, sure, but he felt no ill will towards the Council. In fact, he came to understand them more, in a perverse way.

Only those who lived on the knifes edge, every day, could truly appreciate how desperate their existence was. Not just as individuals, or even speaking of Wayrest as a whole, but humanity in general. Certainly, everyone knew there were monsters abound in the wilds, and that was why most chose to live in fortified cities. But once you made that choice, you had another: to either think of yourself as a coward, living in fear of what was outside, or to downplay the severity of the situation to yourself.

It went without saying that most people chose the latter. Tom couldnt blame them, either, the choice being that, or a perpetually anxious existence. Especially for the grand majority of people, without magic to protect themselves.

No, the Council was merely scared. Scared of their safe little world becoming any more unsafe than it already was. Tom didnt think theyd truly believed him, but neither were they complete fools. Those who were didnt tend to survive long in such a world. No, they would wait, and try to find evidence of the orcs out here, but they wouldnt upend their cosy fantasy until they did.

Tom also found himself without any resentment for his parents. Thinking of his father produced only disappointment, but having stood up to him had freed him, as if hed put down a titanic weight that he hadnt realised hed been carrying. Next to the freedom from that struggle, his father seemed a small creature in his eyes - pitiful, pathetic.

His mother was a different story. His thoughts on her were much the same as always. A strange mix of gratitude and confusion. The mix had been sown in his hearts soil for years, and love, proper love, could not grow in such an environment, though he did love her still. He thought he understood, since putting down his burden, how she must have been carrying a similar one. One that his father had been adding to, ever so gradually, so slowly you didnt notice, over decades. She would have had no energy left to stand up to him, much less to save her son. Still, he had some small hope she would free herself of him too.

He thought of Ella and Gad with sadness, sad that he had such a horrific death, and so young, and that Ella was now without her brother, and had the entire hopes of a noble House to carry. He knew the stress of that all too well. What he didnt feel, any longer, was guilt. At most he felt frustration, that he hadnt manifested slightly earlier, that some turn of chance hadnt occurred to see Gad escape alive with him, but he no longer blamed himself.

Most of all, he thought of Rosa. Rosa, the fiery scion of House Raventos, who was the only person who was ever kind to him. Of course, she was often mean just like the others, but it didnt carry the same sting. He knew, for her part, it was purely teasing, unlike the barbs of the rest of his peers. He hoped to see her again, someday. He smiled as he thought of it. She would make fun of him for his Ideals, and in the next breath be joyful to see him alive. It was a pleasant daydream.

Overall, he was content. Life had taken him in an unexpected direction, but he was not unhappy with it. He didnt care if people believed him anathema for his Ideals. He knew his heart was true. And he could always leave, just pack up and go, travelling to distant lands as hed always dreamed of.

First, though, he had work to do. He was not yet finished training, and he needed to be fluid with his Ideals, before he thought of anything else. Once he was done, he would get to work.

If Wayrest needed proof of orcs in the Deep, he would bring it to them.