The streets were mostly empty by the time I had put my shoes and jacket back on and we left home. There were still some people lingering and loitering at such a late hour, because there always were, but we both ignored them as we walked.
Normally, going out this late with my wife would be a treat. It was definitely preferable to go out now when the streets weren’t as crowded. We would take our time hand in hand, just the two of us, as we walked around the city. No destination in mind because we didn’t need one when we had each other’s company.
This wasn’t that. There was tension between us.
The last time we had talked about the Southern Continental Dungeon, Tabs had been adamant about coming along. She had correctly called me out as the most powerful member of the Department of Dungeons, barring Director Ortaephaen, and stated that if I was going, then she was, too. I had asked her to discuss it later because I thought it was going to start a fight between us, and I didn’t want that.
The look on her face, the way she had her nose in the air and set her jaw, told me that I had only delayed the inevitable.
We both stretched out the peace as long as we could. There was a park near the city gates that we often took the girls to. It wasn’t discussed, neither of us pulled in any other direction, it just happened automatically. At least we were still in sync enough for that.
There was a playground on the other side of the old mill pond, and we walked around it. Frogs croaked in the night, but the people nearby were silent. Eventually, we ended up at the swings. Those sized for Human children were almost perfect for us grown Halflings.
Once we started swinging, she decided to speak. Her tone was quiet and even. “Every time you justify going out to do your job, you always say that you can only do it knowing that I’ll be home to watch the girls,” she started slowly. “That there’s absolutely nothing more important than family to you.”
I remained quiet, knowing she didn’t want me to respond just yet.
“It’s hard on us all, not having you around. Not just for them, but for me, too. Now, I know it’s safer than being an adventurer most of the time, subjugations notwithstanding, but that doesn’t make things easier,” she sighed, looking up at the night sky. There weren’t many stars due to how much light the city produced. “But, I get it. If the tavern were run any other way, then you wouldn’t have to go and work so hard. If we didn’t send the girls to such a good school, then you wouldn’t have to work so hard. If—”
“All of those things are necessary,” I interrupted. “The tavern is your pride and joy, and you’ve done amazing things with it. Even Cheroske thinks so, and I’m pretty sure your work is why she even considered me in the first place.”
“Is that a fact? Or are you just pulling that out of your rear?” she questioned with an amused huff.
“I have a very strong feeling about it,” I told her, and Tabs shook her head. “As for the school. Sure, it’s expensive, but they need the best education they can get. Doubly so, now that Willow has somehow awakened a familiar. Honestly, I’m glad that Calico is going to be graduating with enough accolades to get a full scholarship somewhere, because Willow’s schooling is going to be even more expensive in the next couple of years.”
“Ugh, don’t remind me,” my wife said, shuddering at the thought. “If you weren’t so adverse to it, then I’d say let Sophia pull some strings and get her a Mage’s Guild scholarship.”
I opened my mouth to deny it outright, but hesitated. “Yeah, maybe.”
Tabitha gave me a sharp look. “Maybe?” she asked. “I bring up the Mage’s Guild and you give me a lukewarm maybe?”
“I don’t love the idea, obviously,” I answered. “But I did promise Calico that I would try to find something closer to home after this was all done, didn’t I? If the scholarship would help with that, then I could probably be persuaded even if it did come from the Mage’s Guild. That’s all.”
The look on my wife’s face softened, and she reached out for my hand. “That’s unexpected, coming from you, but I appreciate it,” she said.
“Yeah, well, it’s for the girls,” I grumpily replied, taking her hand.
“If you’re willing to go that far, then you might be able to accept what I’m about to tell you.”
I gently squeezed her hand, letting her know to continue.
“The Consortium has already come by and tried to recruit me for the expedition,” she admitted. I felt myself go stiff. “A few times now, actually. Reliable Rhodes’ records were great, Badger. We did a lot of good work out there. Not all of us are up for the adventuring life again—I know for a fact that Gro has settled into civilian life too much to go back—but I’m still as spry as I used to be.”
“Tabitha, you’re retired,” I told her. “You haven’t been a part of that life in over a decade now.” The way my wife looked away when I said that gave me pause. I knew that look. “Tabitha, what are you not telling me?”
“I started a junior adventuring league for some of the promising youngsters that frequent the tavern,” she said, as if she had decided to open up some kind of knitting club. “And I’ve been taking them out to see the dungeons around the city. I think I’ve regained the taste for adventure.”
“Tabitha, no. You were devastated after what happened to us back in the day.”
“I was. All of us except for Ulrich were devastated, apparently,” she agreed, letting go of my hand to throw her own in the air. “But I had forgotten how liberating being an adventurer was. Helping the young'uns, traveling from place to place. Deep down, I’m still a member of the Strongheart Tribe. I may not have had a lot of momentum the last couple of decades, but it’s all coming back to me.”
“So, what? You think you can handle jumping from a junior league to something like this expedition in a few months?” I asked, jumping off the swing to pace. Now felt like a good time to start pacing. “Because there’s a world of difference between the two. You should know that.”
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“I do know that,” she answered, slowing to a stop but not standing up. “But I’ve also started soloing some other dungeons on my own time. Just to see if I’ve still got it.”
I stopped pacing to turn and stare at her in disbelief. “You’ve done what now?”
“I’ve been soloing dungeons,” she repeated with pride. “Hard ones, too. You always say you’re not worried about me, that you can rest easy knowing I’m here to watch the kids, but the moment something actually dangerous came up you popped in from out of nowhere to try to defend us.”
“Because my family—”
“Wasn’t supposed to be your priority at the time,” she quickly interjected, standing and walking up to me. “Brackenhorst came to warn us and take us away, and I refused. You know why? Because I believed myself capable of stopping whatever came our way. I had faith in myself, and I had your faith in me to back it up.”
“There were powers neither of us comprehended in the cult’s siege of New Frausta,” I argued. “Of course I was going to come back home.”
“And I’ve been told that Abara slime even used that against you,” she said back, getting heated. “Not only that, but I was there for it, remember? Opened a portal right in front of me, and I told you I was fine. In fact, I told you that the city was under attack.”
I looked away. “I didn’t hear that part.”
“The portal shut before I could get it out, sure, but I know you knew what I meant,” Tabs replied with a shake of her head. “I could handle everything that came our way, including that asshole, Sticky. At the very least, you should trust me to flee with the girls if things got too bad for me to handle.”
“I do trust you,” I insisted. “But something like Ulrich showing up was beyond the scope of everyone in New Frausta, apparently, and what was I supposed to do if he showed up at your door and wasn’t nearly as cordial as he ended up being?”
Tabitha scoffed. “Badger, he was only there because you showed up first,” she told me with brutal honesty. “You were blinded by Abara the very moment he made that portal to show me off. He knew exactly who we were, where we lived, and he couldn’t get to us. But still, after you finished him off, you appeared exactly where you explicitly told Dalsarel, Cojisto, and Moose not to. And you told them that because you knew they’d be a beacon, same as you.”
“That was— That’s different, Tabs,” I defended, not wanting to think about how truthful her words were. “You were already in danger.”
“It’s not different and you know it,” she continued, poking me in the chest with her finger. “I’m not going to fault you for it, either. You were worried. Anyone would be. But you had other things to protect, not just us. If you had trusted me and left Sticky to me, you could have popped up anywhere else in the city. Don’t tell me you couldn’t; this city is your community, and I did a lot of research into what you can and can’t do now that you’re a paladin again.”
Her words rattled through my mind erratically. The worst part was that she was right. If I hadn’t showed up, then Ulrich never would have appeared. If he had even the slightest change in disposition, or thought I could put up the fight he so desperately wanted, then things could have been very different.
I had no doubt that he could have torn down our building with his power if he wanted to. Tabitha might have survived, maybe, but the girls certainly wouldn’t have. That monster had been brought into our house by my actions alone. Ulrich even admitted that he had no idea we were living there. It was all me.
The thought that my own reckless need to protect my family could have ruined them, even coming months late, took my legs out from under me. I fell onto the sandy ground, eyes downcast, as the full weight of what could have happened hit me.
And I couldn’t have even pleaded ignorance. Tabitha was right that I had told the other three explicitly not to go protect my family because I knew their presence would summon something bad into my home. Then I went and did what I forbade them to do and put that potential pox on my house myself. Like an idiot. Like a hypocrite.
“I think we’ve gotten a little off topic,” Tabitha said, her voice soothingly soft as she knelt beside me and wrapped her arms around me. “What happened, happened, and there’s no changing that. I was just trying to point out that you trusted me to be strong for the girls, but the fight’s not here anymore. You, the Consortium, and all the governments have been cracking down hard on the Cult of Chaos. The threat they used to pose isn’t the same as it is now. If we want to protect our children, then we need to do it together. I need to be down south with you.”
“What if Sticky breaks free, or some other trouble comes?” I asked, not looking up.
“It’s certainly possible, sure, but is the threat at home really worse than that of CC?” she asked in return. “We’re talking about a continent-ending cataclysm, if what she told you was true. Possibly even the world. There are people here to protect them, and the shrine to Cheroske makes our home harder to target than ever. You have to go to protect the family, but I need to do the same.”
“I’m going to be worried the whole time,” I stated.
“You were going to do that anyway, so it won’t be much different,” she retorted.
“Something could happen to the both of us, leaving them all alone,” I said.
“If there’s something out there that manages to kill you, then the rest of us don’t have a chance and it’s a moot point anyway,” she replied.
I grimaced. “I’m going to be too worried about what you’re doing and whether or not you’re safe.”
“Then let me get to the real reason why I asked you out here,” she said, standing up. I looked at her as she planted her hands on her hips. “I want to be on your special operations team. I’ll watch your back as well as the girls', and you all can watch mine. It’ll be like the old days, except I’ll be deferring to you.”
Sighing, I slowly stood up. “This is one of those things where you’re not going to back down, are you?” I asked.
“I’ve said my piece and I’m going to do everything I can to abide by it,” she confirmed. “Not only that, but I’ve already accepted the Consortium’s offer. They don’t know I’m about to be snatched up by you, but I’m still in the ranks regardless.”
I bit the inside of my lip, but still frowned. “And who’s going to watch the girls?”
“We are, silly Badger. Ferry and Dalsarel will be fine,” Tabitha joked, trying to lighten the mood. When I glared at her, she gave me an apologetic smile. “I already called in both Danella and Gro and talked to the priests who occasionally come to pray at Cheroske’s shrine. Not only are our adventuring buddies excited to dote on their nieces for however long this takes, but there’ll be an extra divine presence most of the time.”
“You were going to come whether I liked it or not, weren’t you?” I grumbled.
“Yes,” she confirmed, kissing my nose. “But you knew how headstrong I was when you married me, and I don’t think you’d change that for the world.”
“No, I suppose not,” I agreed, as much as I would have liked to do the opposite. “But my team was going to be very exclusive. Dalsarel still needs to get back the power she lost when the Blackwood Queen died, and now there’s you. If you’re going to come with us, then we have someone we need to see first to give us the…” I pinched the bridge of my nose as I started to get a headache. “The best chance we’ve got.”
“Who?” she asked, taking my free hand in hers.
“The Dungeon Master,” I answered sourly, hating every word of what I was about to say. “We have to go see what the bastard can do to help even our odds.”
