POV -> Corian

Corian made it back to the town by sundown. A small cluster of curious villagers had grown at the wall when they first spotted Corian in the distance. Curiousity turned to cheers when a few sharper eyes noticed Sajus and Timber, and one stone cold glare as the blonde woman that had first hired Corian pushed through the crowd and grabbed the boys by their wrists.

She pushed back the crowd with her presence alone, leading them both safely back through the walls with Corian in slow pursuit. Timber put up a small struggle until he caught a glimpse of Corian behind him, then seemed to settle his losses.

The villagers continued to follow, making a wide circle around the group. The hushed whispers hoped for some public discipline on the rowdy children, while the rest of the conversations settled on the strange blade Corian was carrying.

The woman faced the kids with her hands on her hips, Sajus dipping his head in shame while Timber folded his arms in protest.

Their response was met with a very strange reaction - to Corian at least. The woman wrapped her arms around the two kids, yanking them into a tight hug.

"Ew!" Timber shrieked, wiggling in the embrace. Corian smiled at the reaction. The kid's legs were still free, he could have done a lot more to get out of the embrace if he really wanted to.

The chatter of the villagers grew judgemental at the choice of punishment. "If that was my kid, they woulda gotten the wooden spoon." One of the spectators murmured.

"Metal spoon." Another added.

Corian eyed the cluster of villagers where the mutters had come from, planting his blade in the ground with a couple oohs and aws. And then the topic shifted back to the blade, remarks from the older villagers who claimed to recognize it mixed with sighs from the ears they were talking off.

The woman rose to the sound, turning to Corian with a smile that died with a cut gasp. "Are you alright?!"

Corian glanced his armour, remembering the holes the beast had left in his thick plate that now exposed some frayed edges of his blood red sleeve. He rolled his shoulder to show it worked. "Not mine." Corian lied, earning a couple whoops from the crowd.

She stared at the marks in clear disbelief, but settled her concern. Corian followed when she beckoned him, reaching the quiet tent where Tarson still sat on his log working. Sajus sped up to him, holding out the black stone like a peace offering.

Tarson's furrowed brow shifted to confusion as he stared at the rock, then to shock as he felt the weight in his hands. He grabbed a small hammer from his belt, tapping it to listen to the sounds as his brow continued to scrunch.

He eyed Corian and Sajus. "Where did you find this?"

Corian jutted his thumb at the blade he had left behind. A couple of the miners that had stumbled from the tavern were taking turns with the weapon, straining to lift it more than a foot in the air and hollering cheers at whoever bested the record.

Tarson raised his eyebrows, battling saying something about what was in his hands. Corian had no doubt he knew it was a chunk of Noctra's tears, or at least, a very passable replica of the rare material. It was easy to upsell for a pretty sliv for the religious value alone. But the real value came from the magic that lingered in every pore of the rock. Raw flecks of midnight from the goddess that shrouded the night's sky.

To Corian's surprise, Tarson held the rock back out to Sajus, smiling when the kid shook his head. "This is enough to make a short blade. Think that would be cool?"

Sajus' eyes lit up, and Timber's brow furrowed. He held the bloodied tooth closer, sticking his nose up at Tarson. "You can't have my tooth."

He gave Timber a dead stare. "I don't want it."

Timber scoffed. "I helped him kill a dragon!"

Tarson raised his eyebrows, casting his disbelief between the two. He came to Timber's eye level, pointing at the large tooth. "Imagine that halfway through your chest." He pointed at Corian. "He saved you from a problem you created."

Timber scoffed again. "We would have been fine without-"

"Tent."

"I had a plan! I was going to-"

"Tent!"

Timber pursed his lips, his knuckles white as he squeezed the tooth. Then, he threw it to the ground, stomping off into the tent.

"That's not my kid." Tarson muttered, grabbing the tooth off the ground and brushing it clean. "But he's my problem. Sorry…" he eyed the damage and grime covering Corian's armour. "For the inconvenience. Thanks for bringing them both back in one piece."

Corian eyed the tent, "no problem, and good luck."

He felt the blonde woman nudge past him, awkwardly waddling next to Tarson to drop a pail of sloshing water. With a moment to catch her breath, she ducked into the tent, coming out with Corian's other helmet and a poorly tied roll of parchment.

Corian grabbed for the helmet first, checking on the blue flower and little bundle of leaves inside it. The woman had to clear her throat to get his attention again, what he presumed to be the map clutched in her hand as she stood over the bucket of water. "Fresh from the stream, you can wash up while Tarson fixes your armour."

He frowned at the demand. "Really. I'm fine. And I'm in a rush."

"Sun's setting. Aren't you resting here?"

Corian soaked in the curious looks from Tarson and the woman, worry blooming in his stomach again. There was no time for detours or rest. He was racing against time. Rumours travelled, Stonesong would talk about the son of an Archon who came back bloodied with a blade that three men couldn't even lift, and left at dusk into the twilight filled with hungry undead. It was something easy to twist if it reached the wrong ears.

"I'm in a rush." Corian repeated, the confusion of his guests now shifting to simple worry.

Tarson motioned to his damaged pauldrons and armguard. "I'll do some quick repairs while you get your things ready."

The woman smiled at Tarson, turning her warmth to Corian. "Tell me what you need to get where you're going, I'll ask around."

The narrative has been illicitly obtained; should you discover it on Amazon, report the violation.

Corian awkwardly pushed out his request, feeling his sense of identity gradually crumbling. "Meat… if there's any to spare…"

She took the orders to heart, slapping a cloth in Corian's hands and briskly departing to ask around the crowd gawking at the blade. He was still hesitant to wait. To linger long enough to say things he shouldn't about his quest. But that bucket of water was more alluring with every passing second as the mud and grime stuck inside his helmet dried to itchy particles that poked at his skin and eyes. And the damage to his armour would earn questions.

He loosened the armour covering his right arm, carefully handing each piece off to Tarson to inspect.

Tarson turned the first piece of armour at odd angles, showing the padding to Corian that was stained a rich scarlet. "Sure that's not your blood?"

Corian stretched one of the holes in his sleeve, showing off the healed spot. Tarson couldn't shake his confusion, and chuckled instead. "Well I'll be damned. Good healing magic, or you bled whatever attacked you like a pig."

"Things tend to bleed when you stab them in the right spot."

Tarson let out a cut laugh, taking a thick thread and needle to start his repairs. Corian turned to the wall and twisted the helmet off his head, the mud that had settled into the neck lining slurping loudly as it coated his face on the journey up.

He stared at the soaked helmet with a shudder. Putting that helmet back on was going to be worse than the public practice equipment at the recruit lodges.

But there were things to distract the thought.

Corian sucked in a breath for show, and dunked his head in the water. Its soft warmth tickled his ears, washing away every itchy bit of mud clinging to his face and scalp. He ran his fingers through his hair, watching the water grow murkier with every movement. Some soap or conditioning cream would have made the bathing experience a lot better, but after all the mud and 'other' stains he had collected on his face, anything would do.

He gave his head one last shake, then pulled from the bucket and sunk his face into the dried cloth. As the cloth soaked up the water, he gained some clear vision, catching a glimpse of Sajus staring at him. The child was poor at hiding his expression, worry tugging his lips into a frown while he stared at Corian's face.

Corian repaid his look in kind, wondering what had caused the reaction. His face was mostly clean. But the worry returned as the blonde woman came back and got a good look at him, shock, metered to respectfully casting her gaze away. Corian furrowed his brow, eyeing Timber's wide eyes as he peeked from the mouth of the tent.

Endris held a small sack of dried meat out with some hesitation.. "Are you well? None of us are healers but we could check our supplies for anything…"

"Never been better." Corian snagged the bag with a deep sigh, resisting the urge to ask for something reflective to check what was wrong with his face. He grabbed the muddy helmet instead and plunged it into the bucket, shaking as much mud out of the armour as he could before planting the soaking object back on his head.

The woman quietly apologized, moving to winding the map up into a leather case for Corian while Tarson finished up his repairs. Corian wandered back to the blade, skimming the crowds of people for an outlier. There were a few more rosie cheeked miners than Corian had remembered, and more life near the town hall now that work had wrapped up. But he didn't catch the face he wanted to see.

That thing wearing his friend's skin was watching him somehow - somewhere.

He grabbed the blade, earning a few cheers as he lifted it and propped it on his shoulder. The gate was still partially open to allow for the last few trailing townsfolk to return to safety, with two armed guards walking the gap to make sure the wrong type of guest didn't shamble through. He lost the curious crowd as soon as he stepped out into the night, walking just outside the licking torchlight to stand exposed on the graveled path. The night was quiet. No guests on the gravel, no birds in the trees. It was a very silent forest where the torches burned, and Corian could not see anything watching from the trees.

But he knew it was there. He hadn't felt alone since he met that creature dressed as Justin by the stream. "Are you here?"

"You got me." A small voice piped. He flinched at the motion, his surprise relaxing to irritation at the small fairy buzzing around. She scoffed at the reaction, precariously balancing between Corian's fingers and the blade's hilt. "Just put it back. Please?"

"No." Corian growled, rolling his eyes as the fairy responded with a rude gesture. "Go make a domain of entertainment. Why were you even feeding like that?"

The Klare Blume gave him a pout, tightly folding her arms across her chest. "I'm not good at it… all my art sucks."

"Then practice. You can't just suck at art and decide to kill people instead."

"I'll starve to death before I become any good!"

Corian sighed, moving the fairy off the hilt so he could plant the heavy blade in the gravel. "Fine."

"Yes!" The Klare Blume let out a giddy cry, sitting on the hilt of the blade and kicking her feet. "Well?"

He thought, skimming the dark trees again, then checking his shoulder for any listeners lingering by the gate. "Do you know how to kill an Archon, blessed by Ra'zerun's Eternal Flame and able to walk off being stabbed through the heart?"

The fairy made a face, scratching at the dirt on the blade while she thought through the request. "That's really specific." she finally muttered. "Do you have an easier request?"

"Like what?"

"Like… make me pretty! Give me cat ears! Bring me a child!" Klare replied, puffing little clouds of glitter with each suggestion. "Something easy for a tiny little fairy. I don't have a lot of magic to spare, you know."

"Do you have portal magic?"

She made an iffy motion with her hands. "Again. Tiny little fairy."

"If I gave you back that sword, would you have enough magic to send me to Toroy Garotzch, one way." Corian watched the fairy's smile rise, picking apart the flaws in his request. "Today?"

Her smile immediately dropped.

"You can talk. Klare Blume can't talk. Surely there's something special about you and you have something."

She rose with offense at the statement. "You can talk. Ghouls can't talk. I don't see anything special about you besides your yapper."

Corian crumbled at the logic, giving the Klare Blume a good look. Harmlessly small. Ragged from apparent starvation due to a lacklustre domain that couldn't produce entertainment short of a feral beast's amusement as it tormented its victims.

The beast was gone. Corian hadn't seen anymore in the bog. The Klare Blume had lost its only accomplice, and was going to have a rough road ahead trying to cook up a new scheme. "What if I asked you to leave me alone?"

She shrugged. "If you give the sword back."

"Are you going to make another death trap?"

She shrugged.

"Then it's coming with me."

She scoffed, parking her butt on a crook in Corian's pauldron. She hummed in frustration as Corian went back to searching the trees. "What are you looking for?"

Corian ignored the question, disappointed at the lack of a guest in the trees. Perhaps the fairy's presence had dissuaded it.

"What do you eat?"

"I'm a fairy." She growled.

"I know, but there's different kinds of entertainment."

She motioned to her ragged outfit. "I'm not picky, obviously."

Corian knelt down to collect three rocks, feeling their weight while the fairy looked on in confusion. He flashed them to her. "Want to see a trick?"

"Other people's entertainment." The Klare Blume replied flatly.

Corian positioned the three rocks in his hands, "I'm entertaining myself, obviously." He tossed the first rock up, catching it awkwardly while starting on a sloppy juggle. The Klare Blume stared at him speechlessly, her arms slowly rising into a fold while he found his groove.

With a devious smile, she snapped her fingers, a fourth rock appearing in the mix. Corian barely caught it, awkwardly keeping the juggle alive with a laugh.

"Can I have your name?" The fairy mused, snapping her fingers to let another rock appear in the mix.

"Nope." Corian fumbled the extra rock, allowing the whole act to tumble down at his feet.

She fluttered over to stand on his pauldron again, looking down at the small stones with a wry grin. "I can work on teaching you better tricks. What can I call you?" Klare mocked.

"Corian."

She flicked off some dirt caked to Corian's pauldron, spit shining it with part of her leafy skirt. "I'm calling you Crocodile."

Corian furrowed his brow.

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