Zach didn't feel well, and he wasn't quite sure what was wrong with him. With each step he took, his adrenaline lessened, and an overall sense of wrongness ca upon him: a sickness in the pit of his stomach. He didn't think he'd been injured, yet he felt as though he were becoming weaker and weaker by the second. Eventually, he leapt up on top of his Kralzek's Beast and followed behind everyone else, as even walking beca difficult. Beside him, his Cursed Defender of Ziragoth carried the corpse of Peter Brayspark.
Moving together as one large group, they marched northward as quickly as possible while the sounds of explosions and gunfire continued to ring out in the distance. Despite the total darkness of night, the Elves used their racial light abilities to create sothing almost akin to an artificial sun that illuminated everything in a do-like shape around them, making it easy to see one another.
About ten minutes following the start of their retreat, Donovan raised up his palm and signaled for a halt. At the mont, they were nearly to the spot that Ziragoth had been put to sleep, as evident by the gargantuan crater ahead of them that Zach had created with his Doomsday Slash; it looked as though soone had punched a hole into the planet itself. It was so massive they'd have to walk around it, as the mages would likely get stuck on the inside.
"Quickly," Donovan said as everyone ca to a stop. "I don't wanna linger here in case those bastards change their minds and pursue." He gestured with his chin at Peter. "Olivir, get him up."
The young-looking vampire nodded. "Got it."
Zach craned his neck to glance down at the deceased guild-leader. With his head feeling fuzzy and his thinking sowhat dulled, he'd forgotten all about Olivir and Kolona's ability to resurrect the dead. Thank the Gods. At least there would be a bright spot after all that darkness. Yet for so reason, as Olivir made his way over to Peter, Fylwen did not seem to show any sign of relief. She once again began weeping.
"No," Fylwen said, shaking her head. "You won't. You can't."
Her eyes had gone red from crying and looked swollen, and there was imnse hurt in her voice: but also anger. Olivir fired her a questioning look, and she said, "You can't revive Peter."
"Why not?" he asked. "Do you not want him to co back or sothing? I thought you were upset that he died."
"Of course I am, vampire!" she snapped. Then, as though realizing she was taking her anger out on the wrong person, she bowed her head as if in apology and spoke at a sowhat more conversational tone, though with each word, more pain bled through her voice. "Peter can't co back."
"Why not?" Kalana asked.
The ache in Fylwen's heart shone through on her eyes as she answered her daughter's question. "Because he's already been revived once before."
With that, confused murmurs ca from several of the adventurers, including Donovan. Not Zach, though. For so reason, he just plain didn't give a shit about any of this. Actually, he wasn't really feeling anything at all on an emotional level right now. He was numb: completely, totally numb. And it was strange, too. It was strange how he felt almost nothing at all. He was just tired. Just wanted to sleep. He wouldn't mind lying down right here in the grass and being left alone. He almost thought of doing that. Just lying under the moonlight, closing his eyes, and being left there with nobody to bother him.
"What do you an, Your Majesty?" Mr. Oren asked. "I am sure he survived the raid."
Fylwen turned her head to look at Peter's unmoving form, then half closed her eyes. "It was a very, very long ti ago," she said. "When Peter was a boy, he had a rare genetic disease called muscular dystrophy. It is a terrible, progressive illness. By the age of five, he could no longer walk unassisted, and by the ti he was eight years old, he was wheelchair bound. Shortly after his tenth birthday, his lungs began to fail. He had but a few months left to live, and not even the stones could heal him. I did not know this at the ti, but I had always suspected sothing was wrong when he stopped coming outside to play. Later, I would learn that his father had taken him to Archian Pri, but the Elvish there were unable to help him, either. The Vampires were also highly reluctant to help, as they consider it taboo to help non-Vampires cheat death."
Fylwen's voice broke as she continued to speak. "One, however, by the na of Count Izex, was willing to make a deal. He agreed to heal Peter in exchange for nothing more than so ancient books to add to his library and a promise to spend the night having tea and conversation. It was such a small request: a pittance for what Peter IV was given in return."
Even as she spoke, Zach heard Olivir sigh, nod, and under his breath, whisper, "Yeah, that sounds like him."
Walking over to his body, Fylwen placed her hands on his lifeless cheeks as a tear dripped down one of her own. "From what Pete told , he was given a potion that put him to sleep, and then another to stop his heart. By the next morning, he was a healthy little boy, and by the week after, he ran for the first ti in his life: with , in the fields of Whispery Woods not far from here, where I intend to bury him in a place we used to play as children."
She placed her head on his chest and sobbed. "I loved him so much," she said with agonized, uneven breaths. "Even though I hated him."
"I'm truly sorry for your loss," Mr. Oren said compassionately. "I know this can't be…" His words trailed off as Zach released a loud bout of laughter, which caused his forr science teacher to stare at him, along with Olivir, Kalana, a half-dozen adventurers, but oddly enough, not Fylwen. This only made him laugh even harder.
"Sorry," he said, chuckling. "My bad."
"You okay?" Olivir asked at just above a whisper.
Zach opened his mouth to reply—but instead burst out with more laughter. Then he snorted and began laughing so hard he almost fell off his mount. It wasn't that he found any of this funny at all. His state of mind did not at all reflect the cackling that was coming out of his mouth. He barely felt anything, actually. He had no idea why he was laughing or what was causing it. He just sort of…was.
I'm just tired, he thought. A bit out of it. I'm fine.
"Zach, why're you doing that?" Kalana asked him, sounding more shocked than angry. "This isn't funny. Why would you laugh at my mom when she's hurting so badly? I thought you forgave her."
"I did," he replied, giggling. "I don't know why I'm—gahahahah!—laughing. I'm just…just having a weird day." He had to struggle to finish that sentence. He was laughing so hard it was almost difficult to breathe.
Donovan pursed his lips and glanced over at Zach as though worried. "We should keep moving."
At this, Abram Gespon cleared his throat and said, "We won't have to go a whole lot farther. I'm having an armored convoy pick us up not far from here. We'll head due north to Whispery Woods, and from there, we can each catch a flight to wherever it is we have to go." Imdiately following those words, Abram turned his head in the direction of Zach, who raised his finger questioningly to catch the man's attention. "Yes, Zach?"
"Whispery Woods doesn't do cross-continental flights," he said. " and Kal are going to her island in South B—" Rather than say "Bastia," he released a wad of spit as the word erupted from his lips with such intense laughter he began to wheeze. "B-Bastia," he finished, laughing even harder and grabbing his sides, which began to ache.
Abram nodded. "Uh, sure, that's fine. You two can board a flight with to Varda's Lair, and then I'll personally arrange your flight to—"
Zach again burst out laughing, and now, even Abram Gespon narrowed his eyes as though sowhat alard. Still seated aback his mount, Zach held up his palm to indicate he was just fine, even as he continued to laugh so hard that he almost choked. Then he started to speak, and even as he did so, he tried to make himself stop. He didn't know why he was behaving this way. He didn't understand what compelled him to do any of this. Yet he continued nonetheless.
"Hey, you guys want to hear sothing fucking nuts?" he asked, drawing their attention. After a few more giggles, he lifted his arm, turned his wrist, and pointed his index finger straight up at the sky. "There's this crazy old asshole, right? His na's Adamus, and he's watching us right now. And he's—"
"Zach!" Donovan, Mr. Oren, Kalana, Olivir, and Kolona all shouted at him furiously.
This only caused him to laugh even harder. "He's a God," Zach said, ignoring them. "And he's toying with us. This is all just a ga to him." He laughed so hard he had to grab the sides of his mount to stop himself from falling off it. "He's enjoying this right now. He made Ziragoth on purpose. Believe it or not, everything we've had to go through is all just him fucking with us. Seriously, guys. This raid, our suffering, this whole damn world—it's all just been him fucking with us. Hahahaha! Isn't that crazy?" Zach cupped his hands over his mouth and yelled up at the sky, "Fuck you, Adamus! You piece of shit!"
"I see," Abram replied, clearly not believing a word that Zach was saying.
"Kiddo, stop talking or I might have to knock you out for a few hours," Donovan growled into his ear, having stord over to his side. "I'm serious. Get a Gods-damned grip."
Fylwen also reacted to Zach's words, though in her case, she rely humd to herself curiously a mont before saying, "I'm quite surprised that a human knows about Adamus."
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"Wait, you an what he just said was true?" Abram asked, surprise popping up on his face as well as the faces of many of the political guild mbers.
Mr. Oren, as though in an attempt to do "damage control," seized on the opportunity Fylwen had just provided. And as though he were operating under the assumption he was being watched, he then spoke loudly and clearly so that he could be easily heard and understood. "This is sothing we like to keep secret," he began, "but in the interest of mutual trust, allow to explain."
From the rise of his chest, he seed to draw a deep breath. "Zach," he continued, "is referring to sothing every adventurer learns while traveling through dungeons. Specifically, that there are powerful beings called 'Great Ones' who made the world, and one of the most important of them is a man nad Adamus. We don't know much about him aside from that, sadly. But his existence all on its own is one of our secrets that Zach has—regrettably—just leaked."
"Sorry," Zach whispered. "I don't know why I did that."
Donovan, as though also improvising, made a point of agreeing with Mr. Oren, and then he too spoke loudly and clearly. "Yeah, not too happy about him blabbering, but it's true. When ya run through the dungeons, sotis you find out little stories from the past, like the fact there's this fucker nad 'Adamus.'"
"And who is he, exactly?" Kolorn Besh asked. "What is his role in our world?"
Donovan shrugged. "No idea," he said, speaking the lie in a way that sounded convincing and genuine. "We just know that there are beings out there of a higher power that made our world, and they're different from the Gods most people worship."
Clearly, Donovan and Mr. Oren were trying to make it seem to Adamus—if he was actually listening in—that they only knew things they were supposed to know or whatever. Zach felt bad for making them have to do this—or at least he should have felt bad. Instead, he felt nothing. It was actually frustrating just how numb he was emotionally.
The mont Donovan finished speaking, Fylwen chid in next, and the things she said only strengthened what Donovan and Mr. Oren were trying to do, although likely unintentionally, as she had no idea what they'd been up to in Angelica's or any of the existentially horrifying truths they'd learned. "I must say, I'm actually shocked to hear that you humans know of this. Indeed, Elvish archives indicate much the sa. I do know more about this than even you adventurers, of course."
"Really?" Mr. Oren asked, looking convincingly intrigued. "You know who Adamus actually is?"
At this, so of the strength seed to return to Fylwen's eyes, mixing in with her grief. But for just the mont, she beca sowhat livelier and more energetic. "I do, human. He is one of the Elvish, like . His na—and I speak this truly—is Adamus Vayra. All the Great Ones are Elvish, actually, and all of them rule from heaven alongside the Gods. That is why humans have feared us all throughout our history. We have the blood of the Gods in our veins."
Everyone except Kolona, Kalana, Zach, Olivir, Donovan, and Mr. Oren released gasps of awe and surprise, as no one else besides them knew that this was slightly off even if partially true. The other adventurers in particular seed floored by these revelations.
"All the Great Ones are Elvish?" Reni Sarwin asked.
"That's correct," Fylwen said.
"Even Olandrin?"
At this, Fylwen actually smiled. "You know of him?"
In response to her question, nearly every adventurer nodded vigorously. "He's everyone's favorite," Reni said. "We all love him."
"That's no surprise. He does so love humans. He was a writer, a poet, and an entertainer before ascending to Godhood, and he loved putting on performances for humans. I'm sure he's watching us right now, actually, granting us his favor."
"I knew it!" one of the adventurers from Boss Rush cried out. "That's why his dungeons are the best."
"I wish I could et him."
"Perhaps you might soday," Fylwen said. For so reason, the human adventurers taking an interest in the Elvish Great Ones seed to be sothing Fylwen not only found delightful, but she actually seed eager to spread what she knew, much of which was probably even true, yet none of it was part of the "forbidden knowledge" that Zach had thankfully not leaked. He just was finding himself a bit…off right now.
As they continued onwards and resud their journey northwards, the conversation shifted and beca centered around adventurers asking Fylwen questions while the political guild mbers scrambled to play "catch-up" with all the things they didn't know. Following a sigh, Donovan walked alongside Zach's mount, and with a threatening glare, he said, "Get. A. Grip."
"Okay, okay. I'm sorry. I didn't even an to…I don't know what's going on with ."
"You're a great kid. I know you didn't an nothing. Just hold it together for a little longer. I know you've got it in you."
"Yeah, I do."
But how many people did I kill today? I can't rember any of them or their faces. How many?
Gods, he'd killed so many people. And here he was, practically in his underwear, riding a giant beast while the dried blood of so many different humans covered him like a tight-fitting bodysuit. It was all over his hands, his fingers, his chest, his face, his hair. He didn't even know how many people he killed. Wasn't that crazy? Think about that. No, wait, seriously. Actually stop and think about that for a second. Zach had killed so many people that he didn't even know how many he'd just killed. Was it five? Ten? Twenty? Thirty? Who knew! He sure didn't. He burst out laughing at the thought, once more drawing unwanted attention onto himself.
"Zach," Kalana whispered. "It's gonna be okay." She hopped up onto the mount behind him so that she rode with him, and she wrapped her arms around his waist and placed her head down on his bare back despite the filth and blood all over it.
"Of course it is. I'm fine." He snickered. Then he sighed. "Kal, let's go back to the way things were before."
"Before?" she asked.
He nodded. "I'm serious. Let's go to school tomorrow. We can move into the sa apartnt, mine or yours, I don't care. I miss that building. Let's just say to hell with all of this bullshit and go back to before any of this ever happened."
"Zach…"
"No, I'm being serious. I really am." He really was. "This was a mistake. You've got to realize that now too, right? This was my fault. I take responsibility for all of it. You said not to go down there. You told not to hit those FUCKING!"—his tone went from bubbly and conversational to intense and rage-filled so quickly it caused several people to flinch—"mobs!" Once more, his tone beca neutral. "And I didn't listen. That was my mistake. I never, ever should have done that. I just want to go back to how everything was before."
Kalana said nothing. With her riding behind him, he couldn't see her face, and thus he couldn't tell if it was because she had nothing to say or simply didn't know how to respond. Mr. Oren, however, did. He t Zach's gaze, and the two stared at one another for a mont before he said, "That's not how the world works, Zach. You can't just go back."
"Says who? What law says I can't show up to class tomorrow for sumr school and pick up where I left off?"
"You have responsibilities now."
"Says who!" he shouted, and out of nowhere, his emotions returned in a flood, but only for a mont. A quick bout of rage ca then quickly receded, and once more, he beca numb. "Kal and I are going back to school. We're putting this behind us."
She squeezed him more tightly. "Zach, we can't."
"Why?"
"For so many reasons big and small. We can't just show up to school, silly."
"Yes we can. We're going to. If the other kids want to stare, let them stare. We'll just ignore them until they get used to it and start treating us like they did before. Everyone gets used to stuff like that eventually. I an, I never thought I could casually talk to soone like Vim Alazar, but now we call each other nas and I have his cell number. It'll be just like that. We'll go back, and we'll be okay."
"That won't ever work, baby."
"Yes it will," Zach said. "I want to go back to how things were before."
"We can't."
"We will!"
She squeezed him even more tightly. "We can't," she said again.
He refused to accept this. "Is it because we're so-called 'celebrities' now? So what. Like I just said, people can learn to deal with it."
Vim Alazar cleared his throat. "Actually, if he cares that much, he can go to a private guild school."
"That's clearly not the issue," Mr. Oren said with a sigh. "And I don't think Zach even cares about school. What he wants—and is perfectly understandable—is to retreat into a familiar comfort zone. He wants his old school. But notice, Zach, I can't go back either. I too enjoyed teaching. As hard as this might be to believe, I'm also nostalgic for the two years I spent studying the Leviathan spawn and relaxing in my office."
"Leviathan spawn?" Fylwen asked.
Mr. Oren nodded. "Oh, right. There's a big one spawning in a few months in the city: specifically, the Leviathan River. But there's no cause for alarm, Your Majesty. It's a very well docunted boss, and your Elves should be able to kill it easily. In fact, it has such an extre weakness to electricity that it can be hit for five tis normal damage with electric-based attacks. Originally, we assud the Leviathan would take out much of the city even as we defeated it, but you and your Elvish warriors can likely kill it before it ever crawls out of the river. It's lucrative, too. It drops hundreds of the healing stones as well as between two and five light stones."
"True," Olivir confird. "I've seen that thing spawn. Gods, it's massive. It's like ten tis the size of Ziragoth, but like fifty tis easier. I rember watching the Guild of Gentlen kill it. Everything Alex just said is true."
Fylwen nodded. "Very well. We'll make sure to warn the people ahead of ti and then—"
"Actually," Mr. Oren interrupted, and now Zach could sense that things were becoming awkward. "The political guilds insist on covering up boss spawns. It's actually a major point of contention between us and them—or rather them and us, I suppose is more accurate for to say now. That'll take so getting used to."
"It's to prevent the breakdown of public order," Abram Gespon replied. "We are planning—or at least were planning—to stage a fake ergency of so sort to evacuate the city for a few days, likely revolving around the possibility of an impending series of building collapse."
Fylwen released a bitter grunt. "Well, I for one shall not be covering up anything," she said darkly. "Now that I'm aware of this, one of my first orders of business will be to spread awareness and safety information so that the people can take precautions ahead of ti and not be caught unaware. Even if the boss is as non-threatening as you say, I will not allow my citizens to have their lives uprooted and plunged into terror by surprise."
"If we were living in the world of a few weeks ago, I'd have to fight you on that," Abram said. "But given we're now in a post-Ziragoth era, I guess we can co up with so reason for why another boss is spawning. We'll think up sothing."
Vim scratched his chin. "Say, you wouldn't be opposed to our raid group joining in on that, would you?"
At this, Donovan actually smiled. "You fuckers wouldn't mind getting your hands dirty again?"
"No, I don't think so. I think things have changed now. It's hard to believe, but I think this little group of ours…it's a sense I have, but I think the dynamic has changed between us. Hell, I never thought there'd even be an 'us' between our guilds and your guilds, but it feels like there is now."
"I agree, actually," Donovan said. "And if it were up to , I'd never decline raid participation for qualified mbers. But it's up to Her Majesty, of course."
Fylwen nodded. "Of course. We can all gather together again for this boss. That's perfectly acceptable." Then she looked at Zach, and she made a sad, bittersweet smile. "And to return to the earlier conversation. Young man, there's no going backwards in life. What has happened has happened. Even if you had never begun the path that you've found yourself on, I was only a year or two away from coming to find Kalana and my husband. In this alternate world, in which you never began this journey, you would wake up one day to find her gone."
"Worse than that, actually," Donovan said with a grunt. "He'd wake up one day to find Whispery Woods being burned down by a dragon, and you'd show up one day to find your daughter and the rest of Galterra burned to a crisp."
Fylwen shuddered. "Excellent point, Donovan, though a chilling one."
Zach heard what they were saying, and he knew they were right, but he wasn't sure he was ready to accept that. He moaned quietly to himself. He was so tired. He wanted to sleep. He felt like all his motivation had been drained out of him. Maybe this was just a slump he'd gotten himself in. He couldn't feel things properly. He didn't want to think. He wanted to turn his brain off and leave it that way. Maybe for good.
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