Chapter 15: Chapter 15 - Almost Human
The Outpost.
Dozens of people moved in and out of the wide mouth of the cave. A distant, but constant stream of boots and voices.
The clatter of armor, the dings of hammers on steel, the shouts of traders, and the stink of sweat all rolled out to meet us, despite the considerable distance between.
Arthur put his hands on his waist as he stretched his back with a deep breath, "Good to be back."
Freya smacked him across the head playfully, "Its only been three days, you illiterate."
Arthur rubbed his head with a tired expression, "Haaah this again?"
The party continued walking, all smiles, but I stopped.
Gerard shifted his Axe off his shoulder to switch it to the other, and noticing I wasn’t following, he turned back.
He smiled faintly. Knowingly.
"You’re not coming in, are you?"
The others slowed when they heard him.
"No. I’m not."
I looked to the other two who were clearly on the verge of a massive protest.
"You said the Association monitors powerful Gifts. If I enter, I’ll need to be registered. And even if I lied, there’d be too many eyes to train the way I need to."
I shook my head. "I can’t help you that way."
Freya frowned. "Then why in all Hells did you say you’d follow us back?"
"I did follow you back. I just won’t enter."
Arthur pinched the bridge of his nose, "And she’s asking WHY you followed."
"..."
"She asked me why I said
I would follo ---"A singular vein bulged across Arthur’s forehead, and he slowly, but calmly, began to nock an arrow.
Freya sighed as she smacked him across the head again.
"I need equipment," I said, looking at Gerard, "Some light armor. Clothes. A pack, some rations..."
My eyes flicked to his axe.
"...and a weapon."
"I reckon you want us to fetch all that for you, then?" Gerard asked.
"Yes."
Arthur scoffed. "You’ve got to be joking. You think----"
Freya raised her hand, threatening another head-smack. But her gaze stayed fixed on me.
"Alright. You’ll have your things."
She turned back to the outpost, then glanced back, "What weapon will you have?"
My gaze returned to meet Gerard’s, and the man grinned so hard his eyes almost fully closed.
"I want an Axe. A big one."
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I lingered at the tree line, watching the steady flow of humans while I waited for them to return.
Patrols circled the perimeter, all uniformed in silver armor with yellow and blue lining. And filtering in and out of the entrance, were more armored people, each holding different weapons, and wearing different clothing. These were the Hunters.
The merchants and traders continued to list out their wares, and from a little further in, cutting through it all, were the innocent laughs of children who didn’t know any better.
They prepare for war.
It was clear as day.
I leaned against a trunk, taking it in. These people were just as chained as those the Hunter’s Guild Association contracted. They were chained by their weakness, with nothing to rely on but the strong. And yet even those they considered strong, were also chained, to those stronger than them.
It was the nature of this world.
No. It is is the nature of all worlds.
The party’s warning came back sharp. If they can’t chain you, they’ll make sure no one else can either.
I clenched my jaw.
I wanted to be free of all these chains. The chains of weakness, and of pain.
But the prerequisite for freedom, was strength. If I was strong enough, I could walk where I wanted, when I wanted.
Strength had to be my priority. Everything else could wait.
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It was an hour before I caught sight of Gerard. But, he was alone, a heavy pack strapped to his back, another bundle strapped to his chest, and a cloth-wrapped pole of white jutting from his shoulder.
He dropped the load at my feet with a huff, then reached around his back to grab the pack and the cloth-wrapped item.
"Your axe," he said, unwrapping it, "Black-Steel, Silver-Ranked. I made sure it’d be on the lighter side so you could still wield it as you are now, but you’ll really only find her balance once you breakthrough."
Its pitch-black blade gleamed under the afternoon suns, head wide enough to split a man in half, the haft wrapped tight in black leather. It was brutal.
I hefted it once, and Gerard’s analysis was spot on.
He crouched, rummaging through the pack. "Clothes, rations..." he looked up at me with a teasing smile, "...plates...", then looked back down and continued listing the contents, "A barebones set of beast-hide armor, and finally, our parting gifts."
My eyes widened a little.
"What, didn’t expect that, Mr. Find My Own Path?"
"...No..."
He grinned.
"Your gifts...from least to most exciting, as decided by me.... are a Beast Encyclopedia and a Sky-Tracking manual from Arthur, a dual path and indicator stone from Freya, and from yours truly, a manual for Basic Axemanship, and a trusty back harness like this one I’m wearing."
He pointed to his back, then nodded to the Axe, "You’ll need it if you’re going to be lugging her around."
"Thank you."
He gave a half-smile. "Don’t thank me yet, lad. That axe can save you or kill you depending how you use it."
He picked up the Axe, twirling it around with ease,
"A greataxe’s not like a sword. You can’t dance with it. You don’t get half a dozen strikes before the enemy’s on you. You get one. Two, if you’re real fast. Each swing carries your whole weight. Miss, and you’ll take too long to recover."
He took up a fighting pose,
"But land a strike..."
Then swung it in a perfect, heavy arc, its blade stopping a hair off the ground, the force enough to dust up a small cloud.
"...and there won’t be much left standing."
I watched in genuine awe at the man’s control.
"Your problem," he went on, "is you fight too square. You plant your feet and take the hit instead of angling off. That’s been working for you since you heal through everything, but one day you’ll find something that won’t give you time to recover. So stop treating pain as proof of progress. Avoid the strike if you can."
He struck off his form, and pushed the axe into my hands.
I looked down at it. Felt its weight. Absorbed his advice. Then looked back to him. "I’ll remember that."
His voice lost its humor for once, "Do more than remember, Axel. You’ve got the will. Stronger than most any I’ve seen."
His eyes glazed over for a moment as he looked out into the distance, "But even will breaks if you lean on it too hard."
We said nothing for a few moments.
"You remind me of someone I once knew," Gerard said finally, "They died not because they weren’t strong, but because they thought strength was enough."
He looked me dead in the eye.
"It isn’t."
My brows scrunched at those words, "If strength isn’t enough, then what is?"
"Technique," he said, "Technique is what carries you through the years."
His words had merit, but to me, technique was already a part of strength. "I’ll learn technique. My own way."
He huffed out a laugh, returning to his usual self, "Figures."
The words that followed surprised me even as I said them, "Still. Thank you."
Gerard raised a brow, then smirked. "There it is. Almost sounded human for a second."
I froze, staring back at him. "Do I not sound human?"
The man buckled over laughing, "AHAHA! Boy, you sound more like a scarecrow come to life than anything I’ve ever spoken to! And I speak to me axe every night before bed! AHAHAHA!"
I smiled. Then laughed unwittingly.
You’re not too far off, Gerard.