“Garreth Collman, I was told you were dead!”
“Joan Sadler. Disappointed to see me?”
“No! Very glad, actually, just…they told me that the demons ripped your heart out!”
“They exaggerated,” I said, gritting my teeth into a grimace.
Her eyes were drawn to the bloody remains of my arm. “Come into the living quarters, so I can dress that properly and you can tell me what actually happened.”
She invited me behind the counter and we withdrew to the back part of the building, which was set up as a living space for mercenaries’ guild members passing through the town. It had a few beds lined up against the walls, a small fireplace, and some chairs and a table on a rug. There was one mercenary asleep in a bed—I remembered him as being part of the watchtower crew, the one with the evening shift.
Joan was good at dressing wounds. The demon dissipated the shadow around the stump just before she took the wound covering off, so she was none the wiser of my new demonic condition. I spun her a tale while she worked; one about getting knocked out by the dungeon boss and assumed dead by my clients, then waking up and making my way back out by myself.
“Are the heroes still in town?” I asked warily.
“No, they left pretty soon after coming around here to report you dead. It seems they had some other business to do.”
On the one hand, I was happy that I wouldn’t have to see them, as I didn’t know if I had it in me to be civil. On the other hand, I would’ve liked to see the looks on their faces when they saw I was alive.
“I didn’t get around to clearing out your things yet, so they’re all still in that chest over there. Do you have another shirt?”
“Yes, I own more than one shirt.”
“Good, because all of this is getting burned.” She picked up the mess of bloody fabric and tossed it into the unlit fireplace. I went over to the chest with my belongings and picked out clean clothes. Joan left the room while I changed. I never thought it would feel so good to wear fresh clothing.
She was holding a few papers when she returned. “So, you have a few options here. I know which one I would pick, but I’ll let you read it all over first.”
I furrowed my brow in confusion and took the papers from her hand. Stamped at the top were two words that hit me like a falling boulder: “exit procedures.”
“Hold on, hold on,” I said agitatedly. “I never said I would—I don’t have to stop being a mercenary, right?”
Pity came across her face like a shadow. “Well…”
“I can still fight. Maybe not as good as I did before, but there’s no reason I can’t do less combat-oriented jobs, like scouting, or…” I trailed off. The pity on her expression had deepened.
Being pitied was a new feeling for me.
She clasped her hands together. “There are certain injuries that disqualify you for membership with the guild. Unfortunately, losing an arm does fall under that umbrella.” She paused, looking away from me. “But, it’s not all bad. There are things the guild will do for you so that you’re not just out of a job and out on the street.” She tapped the papers. “All in here.”
I looked down at them again. The stack of papers was thin. There couldn’t have been that much.
The bell at the counter rang, and Joan stood up. “I’ll leave you to it.” I watched her make her way to the door and stop to look back at me. “You’ll be alright, Garreth. This happens to plenty of mercenaries.”
I always thought I would die on the battlefield.
To say I always wanted it wouldn’t be right, but I’d always expected it. Most mercenaries don’t exactly live long and fulfilling lives.
If I was well and truly honest with myself, I was expecting to be Blessed by the Paragon and thrust into a life of heroism before dying in battle protecting people from an insanely strong demon, and having a statue erected in my honor. In the event that I died before being Blessed, I expected it to be in a blaze of glory, while protecting a hero that would go on to tell the story of my sacrifice far and wide.
Now, I was staring down a document with the title “10 good career choices for the maimed/paralyzed/mentally infirm.”
I tossed the papers to the side and buried my face in my hand.
“No, she didn’t,” I said quietly. “Not really. She’s just doing her job.”
“Same goes for us humans.”
“Sure, we can work in…” I picked up a paper off of the rug. “City waste sanitation.”
<...Joan was not insulting us, but I believe this paper may be.>
The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.
There was a groan from the bed in the corner, and the mercenary who’d been sleeping there sat up groggily. He greeted me with a grunt and a nod, then did a double-take.
“Hey…” he said, then pointed at me and squinted. “You’re the guy who died.”
I put on an obviously fake smile. “Yep. That’s me.” The demon responded by pulling up his stat block; a well-meaning but useless action on its part.
[NAME] Andrew Wenn
[HP] 100/100
[MANA] 0/0
[PAIN] 0/10
“Interesting,” Andrew said, pulling the blanket off of himself and getting up. “Congrats on surviving death. How was it?”
“Oh it was terrible. A total nightmare.” I held up the paper and my nonexistent arm. “Still living that nightmare, actually.”
He pulled up a chair and sat backwards in it, resting his arms on the back rest. “Yeah, it’s rough. I had a buddy in a similar situation not too long ago. Lost his left foot in a dungeon. Got it bitten off by a demon.”
“What did he end up doing?”
He pantomimed wrapping a rope around his neck.
“Wow. Thanks. Wonderful advice.”
He threw up his hands defensively. “Not saying that’s what you should do. I’d hate to see it, actually. You look like you could still make a living just fine.”
“Got anything helpful to say, then?”
“Don’t give up. There are plenty of people out there looking for the type of work that mercenaries do, and plenty of them have great reasons to hire from outside the guild.”
“How do you know?”
“I never went to the fighter’s college. I joined the guild after doing work outside of it for a few years. Was trained up by some folks who were working out in the far-frontier, so they just took who they could get.”
The far-frontier was known for its harsh environment and increased number of demons on the surface. Frontiersmen were often social outcasts, living on the fringes of society. It was an interesting suggestion, but not one that I latched onto right away.
“Or you could take one of the suggestions that the guild gives.” He took another piece of paper off the floor. “Looks like they even have a station in Callingston specifically for people in your situation. You could stay there while you figure everything out.”
“I might do that,” I said with a sigh. “I definitely don’t want to stay out here in the middle of nowhere.”
“I’d be worried if you did.” He dismounted the chair and stretched. “I’ve got to go get something to eat before my shift starts. Good luck. And—” he looked me in the eye and pointed at me. “Never kill yourself.”
“Yes sir,” I gave him a half-hearted salute as he left.
I didn’t know what I wanted to do with my life yet, but I did know that I couldn’t stay in the Mercenary Station all day. I took some dried meats from my chest of belongings and an apple from the communal cupboard and set out for a walk. I didn’t stay in town, instead simply picking a direction and heading out onto the plains. I knew it would be easy to find my way back; the terrain was so flat that Saybrook could be seen from fairly far away.
It started.
I decided to humor It. I was tired of thinking about what to do with my life, anyway. “In boats. Is there some other way to do it that I’m not aware of?”
I nodded in thought. This was a fascinating nugget of information. When the Demon Queen awoke and the Hero Cycle began every two hundred years, the demons would emerge from the earth’s mantle wherever there were humans. What It had just said meant that the demons here were separated from the rest of their kind; a mirror image of the humans on this continent.
There was only one Demon Queen, however. Was she hiding in a dungeon on this continent, or the other one?
Maybe I could ask. “I’ve got a question for you now. Where’s the Demon Queen?”
It was silent for a few moments.
Of course it wasn’t that easy. “It’s alright. I don’t know what I would do with that information anyway. It’s not like I can go and kill the Demon Queen myself.”
it said, but still didn’t tell me.
We reached a lone tree, standing tall on the plain. I enjoyed its shade for a moment, finishing my food, then drew my sword.
I ran through each standard defensive position, taking extra care to hit them precisely. It wasn’t easy, having to do it with my non-dominant hand, but it wasn’t impossible by any means. I went through each standard offensive thrust next, and those were a lot worse. I was sloppy, and had trouble transitioning between them.
The hairs on the back of my neck stood up. It seemed to sense something amiss too, and did a scan of the area.
[NAME] Scout Demon
[HP] 200/200
[MANA] 15/20
[PAIN] 0/10
[LVL] 10
[SKILLS]
Invisibility: (MANA 5) Make yourself translucent. Gain 5 MANA when the effect is canceled.
Long-Range Telepathy: (MANA 5) Send a message telepathically to one other demon within a 20 mile radius.
Increase Speed: (MANA 5) Double your movement speed for 20 seconds.
Devour Suffering: (MANA: 1) reduce a target’s PAIN stat and use it to increase your own HP or MANA at a rate of 1 per sec
I gripped my sword tighter and turned in a slow circle, looking for signs of an invisible enemy. There was a rustle from my left, and I quickly turned that way, eyes scanning the ground for footprints and ears pricked for any sound of movement.
Scout demons weren’t known for their fighting ability, and it seemed they had no skills dedicated to it. Even though this one was LVL 10, I thought I could take it.
Leaves rustled behind me. I whipped around, swinging my sword through the air, but didn’t hit anything. I started to make a circle, swinging my sword back and forth as I went. My foot caught on something firm and I stumbled, but managed to catch myself.
I started to back away, towards the town. “What do you want from us?”
It sounded a low, rhythmic growling in my mind, something akin to a snicker.
“What are you laughing at?” I sneered, but there was no response. I continued to move towards the town. “There are reinforcements in Saybrook. If you attack me, they’ll come running.”
The Scout’s voice was low and slimy.
There was no answer.
I turned and ran, sprinting back to Saybrook as fast as I could.