Chapter Thirty-Two: Rest and Relaxation

Chapter Thirty-Two: Rest and Relaxation

Tom and Val left for Corins Grove the next morning. Tom found he liked autumn in the Deep. The weather, while colder, was not unpleasant, and the light at dusk and dawn set the golds and reds and browns of the forest alight. Tom marvelled at the myriad colours, the all pervasive green, of course, but now a backdrop to the quilted change of seasons.

He was not looking forward to winter, about a month away now, however. They only rarely got snow, but the temperatures would drop once more, and he imagined he would be spending many cold nights in the forest, if Val had anything to do with it. Cold, and wet too, likely. And without even the reprieve of beautiful colours to distract him.

He sighed at the thought. At least therell be different plants and herbs about. Different monsters, too, though.This chapter is updated by nov(e)(l)biin.com

As the sun rose above the horizon, bathing the world fully in mellow light, they stepped from the Deep and onto the small path that meandered between apple and peach trees and into Corins Grove.

The path, rarely used except for Hunters, and the Reapings launched from here, was wide, though not well-trodden. It ended abruptly, some hundred yards before the trees, at a small earthen wall and ditch the villagers had made. It was barely chest high, but anything was better than nothing if something wandered out of the Deep Green.

The entire length of the ditch was staked, at least, bar a small gap at the end of the path. Each outer-ring village, on top of their usual work, was tasked with holding back the forest itself. The regular supply of lumber provided more than enough surplus. It ensured the villages could stake not only the entire ditch, but place them in tight, bristling rings around each home in the village proper.

Once again, not much use against a drake, or an old enough golem, or anything even approaching village-killer status - but better than nothing. The illusion of security is often as much an aid to morale as enchanted stone walls.

As they walked down the path between orchards, Val turned to Tom. You might want to sub Sesame, now I think about it. The villagers will shit themselves if they see a six foot bear wandering in.

Sesame sent a mildly confused query to Tom. He couldnt understand Val as well as him, but enough to get the gist of what shed said. Val had explained a few days ago that being partied up helped a little with party members familiars understanding other party members.

The issue here was not one of translation though, but of perspective. Sesa seemed to think of himself as being rather small and cute, and humans simply as being even smaller, though spindlier and knobbly.

Tom snorted at the sentiment, and drew Sesame over to him. He sent the bear a feeling of regret, and a promise to be summoned again soon. Sesame sent him a feeling of aloof dignity, and when Tom hiked the left legs of his pants, he touched his nose gently to the bottom of the tattoo there.

There was a strange, not flash, but distorting, and for an instant it appeared as though Sesame was composed of the tattoo lines, or perhaps that the lines of the tattoo had spread and snatched him. In either case, the big bear was there one moment, and gone the next.

He spent the next few moments reeling as scents assaulted his nose. He could smell the earth, dry and hard and dusty, having been without rain for over a week. He could smell the apple and peach trees, light and fragrant and woody. There was smoke from the village, laced with iron and meat and baking bread. He could smell Val, a homely scent, leather and cotton and soap, and Scorn and Smitten too. He could even smell villagers working in the orchards nearby. It was overwhelming. He had no idea how Sesame managed it all.

I think you should sub Scorn too, hes scarier than Sesa, said Tom, once hed collected himself.

Val just chuckled, though whether at the joke or at his discomfort was hard to say. Scorn looked as though he was making a particular effort to show the comment was beneath his notice. Smitten turned back to them with a happy grin, her tongue lolling out one side of her mouth. Within another quarter hour, they had reached the village proper.

They didnt seek out the mayor, her being too busy with her day-to-day business for interruptions. Instead, they headed for the meeting house, which doubled as a sort of tavern. Extra care had been taken to reinforce the walls and foundation of the large space, so that it could be used as a shelter in a pinch.

There, Val had a brief talk with the proprietor. They left all of the various goods theyd brought in with them, to be distributed out to the village, or ferried back to Wayrest, depending. He handed Val a few fat gold coins, set on one side with Wayrests concentric rings, and the other, with the sun of Truth. She also got a handful of coppers too.

It seemed a ludicrous sum to Tom, but then again, the goods they brought in could either not be found elsewhere, or were outrageously expensive to import. Still, it was far, far more than they would need to restock. He quietly reassessed his estimate of Vals wealth. She already had a mansions worth of essence stones in the chest under the oak. If all her trips back to civilisation were even half as lucrative, then she must have a kings ransom stashed away. If they ever rescinded her exile, she could wreak absolute havoc on their economy. As they left the meeting house, Val noticed him watching her with a ponderous expression, and gave him a sly grin.

Time for the best part then, lets go get some food, she said with hearty cheer, and she led the way across the village square towards the bakers.

They were halfway across when Tom froze mid-step.

Her perception surprised him, though maybe it shouldnt have. Knowing how long his journey to manifest was, knowing, just as he did, the pressures of noble life, having access to the noble rumour mill, and knowing he had manifested Suffering for his troubles - the pieces were all there for her to put together. Hot tears stung his eyes.

Suddenly, Rosa pulled him into a hug. Its okay, Tom, she hushed at him. Like I have said, these things, they cannot be helped. I know you have a kind heart, even if you have a thick head. He heard the smile in her voice. You will make the best of this. You will be a good Hunter. He pulled away, trying to dry his eyes as surreptitiously as he could. Rosa pretended not to notice.

You dont think Suffering is strange, then?

It is certainly unusual, but all Ideals are Goddess-given. To spurn them, to say one is above the other, to call one anathema - it is throwing the greatest of Her gifts in Her face. She mimicked spitting to her side.

Church of Truth indeed she muttered. Rosas family were originally from Horizon. There, they followed the Bloody Scripture. Their own take on the Goddess was as far removed from the Church of Truths as could be.

They believed that Goddess bestowed Ideals to us, and it was our holy duty as Idealists to use them to cleanse The World of monsters. They saw monsters and mana beasts that could use abilities without holding Ideals as heresy. It was for this reason that the monks from the Monastery above Horizon undertook their Bloody Pilgrimages.

The Church of Truth believed that The World was trying to bring us closer to Goddess through Ideals, and that only those Ideals made in the light of her image could do so. The Goddess was perfect, as their canon went, and so it logically followed that any unsavoury Ideals could not bring you closer to her.

Tom, for his part, took a different view on things, and had even before his manifestation and exile. He was not necessarily atheistic, as he believed in higher powers and the inexplicable, but he found too many inconsistencies and flaws in any religious dogma hed studied so far.

So, she began anew, straightening herself. Youre not going to congratulate me then?

He stared at her blankly.

I have a pick now, you goat! she punched him on the arm.

Oh, thats amazing news, Rosa! he exclaimed, genuinely happy for her. What did you manifest?

Smoke! she said her chest puffing with pride beneath her plate. To go with my Fire, of course!

Tom let out a low whistle. Fire was deadly enough as it was - he had seen Rosa spar at the Academy every day for years. Smoke would add versatility to her skillset. Tough to pin down, harder to injure - his mind spun out the possibilities.

None of that! she shot at him, interrupting his thoughts. I see your mind is still taking off with the fairies. Time for lunch, I think. Then I should be getting back.

Fire and Smoke are okay, I guess. But theyre no fall, he told her as they stood, trying for humour as he summoned some of her icy imperiousness.

Fuck you, Tom! Suffering? More like Insufferable! You think, just because And she continued to good-naturedly excoriate him all the way back to the bakers.

And all the way through lunch.

And on the way to the meeting hall after.

Tom had missed it.