Chapter 168 – Aftermath (Patreon)

Our celebration of everyone’s lives had gone on for hours, and the sky was already starting to lighten as we all went to sleep. I hit my pillow and was out like a light.

A soft hand on my shoulder, and I bolted upright, ready to fight, to blast, to protect myself and – oh, it was just Night.

“Huh? Night? Whazzup?” I asked him, adrenaline fleeing and the siren song of sleep soothing me back down. My eyelids were so heavy, I was ready to go right back to sleep.

A pounding headache was letting me know that I’d gotten maybe 15 minutes of sleep tops, and the tent getting slightly lighter as the sun threatened to break over the horizon let me know that, yes, almost no time had passed. I was totally ready for more sleep.

“Dawn. I apologize for disturbing your rest. However, I wish to speak with you, alone.” Night said.

Welp, up and at ‘em. [Sunrise] was a miracle skill, and I was happy to see a notification for it leveling up.

[*Ding!* [Sunrise] leveled up! 2 -> 3]

My eyes flew open as energy bounded through me, although my headache was a persistent reminder that I was running on practically no sleep.

Note to self: Spam the heck out of the skill to try and get it leveled up faster. With my power and regeneration shooting up, I should be able to level it quickly.

Assuming the amount of power I shot through the skill impacted the leveling speed, and there weren’t more arcane aspects to leveling up that I was unaware of. Danger I knew about, stress I knew about, properly using skills was a yup.

Right, well, I’d try to remember to use [Sunrise], although it was a risky move. If I spent all my time thinking about using my skill, I wouldn’t be paying attention to other things.

Like the private conversation my technically-not boss and 5,000 plus year old vampire and I was going to have.

I shook my head as I got up, and followed Night out of the tent.

Focus.

I fell in naturally by his side as we walked through the cold and dark camp, passing by the occasional party that refused to die, in spite of most of the participants being stone-cold out.

I was reminded of our many walks together, our discussions. If I had my way, if I managed to do everything right, we’d have a bunch of centuries like this. Kinda intimidating to think about. At the same time, Night clearly knew how to stay alive. It was probably safe to get somewhat emotionally attached, since he wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.

“Dawn.” Night said, and paused.

Step.

Step.

“Yes?” I asked, thanking my lucky stars (ha! I probably had a few of those, given that my element was Celestial) that [Sunrise] had woken me up, stopping me from slurring my words in spite of the massive sleep deficit I was running.

Classing up wasn’t really sleep, and I’d been running myself ragged for awhile, before the party and the mourning.

“First off, I would like to say, excellent work. You are a credit to all of us, to all Sentinels, and to humanity as a whole.”[OJ1]

My heart swelled three sizes at his praise. Praise I didn’t know I wanted, but nonetheless struck deep inside, resonated with me. Put a great big silly grin on my face. No matter how hard I worked, no matter how hard I tried to school my expression, it was stuck on.

“Thank you.” I managed to say, with only a bit of warbling.

Step.

Step.

I loved the processing time built into Night’s discussions. Let me organize my thoughts.

“Before I forget, I wanted to let you know I got offered [Ranger-Healer] when I was classing up. Given the history of the Rangers, I think it’s a first. Wanted to let you know about it.”

Night gave me a long look, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“Excellent work Dawn. From your phrasing, it sounds like you did not take said class?” He asked.

I shook my head. I figured I’d eventually tell him, given the long history I expected us to have together. Why not tell him now?

“I got [The Dawn Sentinel].” I told him. I wanted to explode and tell him all about [The Stars Never Fade], but I didn’t even have the skill yet. It’d feel a bit like bragging.

I also kinda wanted to feel out Night’s reaction to it ahead of time. He’d been a paragon of reason and virtue the entire time I’d known him, if a bit long-winded. However, as a human I’d level up significantly faster than he would, and would eventually overtake him, in relatively short order. Well, as far as the timeline he worked on was concerned. And that I would soon be working with. Either way, I’m pretty sure his reaction would be favorable, but eh. I was in no rush to tell people about a skill I’d get many years in the future.

“An excellent choice. There have been a few Sentinels over the years who have had the choice to perform their level 256 class-up, and out of those, the ones who have taken the class corresponding to their titles have all done well. I believe a part of that is since Sentinel encompasses a great many things, you acquire strong experience for a wide variety of activities, which should help you level at a rapid rate.”

We paused for a moment, to keep walking as I digested that.

I wasn’t too surprised that I wasn’t the first Sentinel to perform their 256 class-up. Heck, thinking about it, my level had never been called out when I was being promoted. I assumed it was because they didn’t want to bring attention to my low level, but perhaps it was just that it wasn’t anything special. “The 11thlowest-level Ranger to be promoted” didn’t quite have the same ring to it. For all I know, in the earliest days of the Rangers and Sentinels, they just took who they could until a solid system was sorted out.

Which in some ways made me being the first woman Sentinel all the worse, but I wasn’t about to explore that tangent.

“I would like to speak about the main subject at this time. While this may be a touch premature, I believe once everything has been arranged and analyzed, most of us will be heading home.” Night said.

‘Most of us’, and ‘private conversation’ translated into ‘you’re not coming with us.’ At least, that’s how I saw it.

“What do you plan for me to do?” I asked bluntly, still on the high of Night’s compliment.

Step.

Step.

Night hummedto himself, a single held note.

“It is complicated. Let me attempt to give you the compressed version of what I believe will be happening next, along with skipping over a thousand tiny details. Like the inevitable coup that at least three generals are planning. Oh, sure, it will occur after the cleansing of the Formorians inside of human lands, but as the Generals finish mopping up the remnants, their armies will only grow more loyal, their fame spread, and themselves closer to the capital.”

“Wait, but –“ I started to say, only for Night to whirl and slash his hand in front of me in a violent motion, cutting me off.

“Permit me to finish.” Night said, a note of displeasure in his voice. “We have much to cover, and your namesake arrives. No, we will not be participating. We are Sentinels. We are neutral. This is no mere rebellion, no slave uprising. The government is scratching and turning itself over. It happens. Remus will survive. No, a side issue, a minor note in all of this, is you would be all-too-tempted to join the fray, not to fight, but to heal. Inevitably it would be noted that a Sentinel was participating, assisting some general or another, then ugly politics would rear its head and drag us in, kicking and screaming. Either we are seen to be fermenting and participating in the rebellion, assisting one general over the rest, or it is civil war among the Sentinels, which detracts from our primary purpose and mission. Either way, we lose.”

Night fiercely breathed in and out, and I realized this was no picnic for him either.

“We are taking the long view, staying neutral, and our mission of protecting humanity will continue uninterrupted. Now. As I said. This is a minor side-note. The Formorian Queens are all dead – so we believe. The endless waves of Formorians have ceased.”

A pause, a note of victory and triumph.

Step.

Step.

“Now, Hunting has just lost his sworn companion, the other half of his soul, the reason for his being. I have seen it before. It is devastating him, tearing him apart. I do not wish to lose another Sentinel, not when we have three seats to fill already. Especially not when two of those seats are critical seats, and Hunting’s seat is also critical.”

I half-opened my mouth to object to Night writing Magic off like that, but closed it. Magic was likely dead. It was no treachery to assume that was the case and operate like he was gone. It was just cold pragmatism. Made me wish we had properly mourned Magic like everyone else though.

The “critical seats” thing I hadn’t even heard of, but with Night’s habit of letting us think and process, I was able to examine the idea. Kinda made sense, from his point of view. We always needed a Sentinel that could get us moved around quickly, that could let us deploy to any place in the Republic within two days. Without that, we’d lose a huge amount of our effectiveness.

I couldn’t tell if Night considered Sealing’s or Magic’s seat to be critical – I could see arguments either way – but I could see Hunting being critical.

I had no illusions that I was critical. Maybe if I demonstrated my usefulness over the decades and centuries, my seat would morph into a critical one, but that’d be kinda moot, since any plan that involved “Replacing Elaine” usually also involve “Because she died.”

I couldeventually retire though. A thought for another day.

This immortal stuff was ridiculously trippy. It was almost as bad as when I got promoted to Sentinel, and all my plans got thrown out the window. Was it too much to ask for that a 5-year-plan get properly executed for once!?

… I said, being 19.

“It is my experience that the best thing possible is for Hunting to be given a mission, a quest, a job to take his mind off his grief, and keep him focused on other things. It is no guarantee, and I could be incorrect, however, simply allowing him to wallow is a poor move. Especially as he is prone to retreating to his estate, which has marks of Katastrofi all over it. I believe it will simply fuel his despair.”

I could see where this was going. I gave a customary pause, as short as possible, before replying.

“Let me guess. You want to send him into Formorian lands to check that everything’s properly dead, but mostly to keep him busy.”

Night nodded at me once it was clear that was all I had to say.

“Correct. Now, for the tricky part, the part that I do not wish to state in front of the rest of the Sentinels, and the reason for our private discussion.”

I was all ears. I didn’t even need [Sunrise] to get me all perked up and listening.

Actually, for that matter, I should probably use a [Sunrise] just to keep myself going. Grinding experience and all that.

[*Ding!* [Sunrise] leveled up! 3 -> 4]

Hurray! More levels! I should do it some –

I should listen to bloody Night and not get distracted!

Focus.

“I wish for you to accompany Hunting on his mission. Nominally, it is to provide him support and back up, along with allowing you to flex and practice your new abilities somewhat away from prying eyes. Prevent Toxic’s poisons from getting to him. I truly have this concern, as the concentration should be significantly higher the deeper into the Formorian lands the two of you travel. Additionally, it is to give Hunting some relief, and allow him to take breaks and have support.”

He was right – the excuse was fairly weak, and I’d normally object to it. I wasn’t just a support minion. I was the one with support minions.

Step.

Step.

“In reality, I wish for you to watch over him. Provide him support, yes. Support of the type he’d get from Katastrofi, in a sense. Prevent him from mentally reaching out for her, only to find a gap, an emptiness. It should help distract him. Lastly, I do not wish for him to commit suicide, and I believe your presence nearby will help. You are calming. Soothing. You blunt rough edges. You are often happiness and light, and I believe you will prevent Hunting’s mind from straying towards darker territory. However. If I state this in public, in front of the others – especially Hunting – most of the purpose of sending you is lost. Thus, our conversation now.”

We reached some mysterious point as the sun’s rays were starting to creep down the wall, walking at a brisk clip back to our tent.

I thought over what Night was saying.

Basically, he was killing thirty birds with one stone. We needed to check that the Formorians were fully uprooted. Hunting needed something to do – and his role happened to coincide with ‘go find Formorians and make sure they’re dead’. There was a potential civil war brewing, or so Night believed. I hadn’t seen hide, hair, nor whisper of anything like that, but I trusted Night’s analysis on that. I wasn’t the most politically astute, and it wasn’t like I hung out with generals, nor would the generals send a polite letter to the Senate telling them about it.

Heck, it was almost Julius Caesar-like. Or Sulla. I didn’t know my Roman history all that well. Massive victory, huge, loyal army, no external enemies left – only thing to do was to march home and declare oneself emperor.

Sounded like more than one general had that plan. There was probably some vast web of politics and intrigue, and the more I thought about it the sicker I felt. Night was totally right. I would try to get involved, if only to heal people, and simply hanging out would cause problems. Heck, knowing me, I’d end up getting roped into some scheme or another, think I was being nice and helpful, and OOPS! Turns out I’d accidentally dragged everyone into some massive mess, just by trying to be helpful.

I knew I could be a bit of an idiot with politics and the like, which is why I tried to run screaming from it. Usually that wasn’t a problem, because “kill the monster, save people” wasn’t terribly complicated, but when people were fighting each other, it got real tricky real fast.

Getting me out of the way, out of the mess before it could properly begin was an okay move. I’d honestly rather stick myself in a wagon, close the door, and get carted back to the capital while sleeping and eating good food, but hey. There were more problems to fix. For all I knew, the cart would get hijacked without me being aware of it, and I’d be carted around as a healing beacon, all while thinking I was out of the mess.

Sending me with Hunting seemed to be the second or third best solution to the “Dawn’s going to cause problems” problem, but it did solve a number of other problems.

It wasn’t like most of those other problems that I was solving could be easily aired out in public, in front of the rest of the Sentinels.

Right then. I was feeling the steam coming out of my ears. This wasn’t the type of problem I was equipped to handle, and I was going to happily pass it off to someone who I believed had my best interests – all of our best interests – at heart, and listen to what he wanted to do.

After all the time processing, we were nearing the tent, Night looking distinctly nervous.

“Right. I’ll do it.” I told him, as the tent came into view.

Night smiled, a huge, predatory slash across his face.

“Most excellent.”

I paused outside the tent, and a grumpy look crossed my face.

“Night. Can we have some privacy – some real privacy – for a second chat?” I asked him.

He looked at my face, and slowly nodded.

“Follow.” He said, opening the tent-flap, allowing me to enter first. I did, thanking him, and we made our way to Night’s portion of the tent, where with a thought red liquid snapped around us, surrounding us, cutting us off from the rest of the world.

“Night.” I said, organizing my thoughts.

“Dawn. I am listening. Speak.” He said, with a serious look on his face. I’m glad that he treated me seriously, that he listened to me.

“I recognize that your position is difficult.” I said, trying to be somewhat diplomatic. It was hard, interacting with people and yelling at your boss, especially when stupid sleep deprived. I felt a cold trickle of sweat going down my back that had nothing to do with the temperature.

“However, that’s no excuse for not letting me know what was going on here! I could’ve been here! I could’ve been saving people! Heck, I was here, if I’d known there was a problem, I could’ve been working on it! People are dead as a result, that didn’t need to be! Why didn’t you tell me!?”

I’d started off calm, but got more and more upset as I went through my rant. Fuck. No more emotional stability from [Center of the Galaxy]. It’s what I wanted, but…

What was done was done.

“Dawn. If you were here, you could not have been deployed to Aquiliea. If you were here, you would not have saved the souls in Pompeius. There are dozens of calls for Sentinels every month. You know that we must choose when and where to deploy, to optimally save the largest number of people. You know this. The balance of the scales would not be appropriately tipped by your knowledge and presence. It was a decision I made. Now, do you have any further objections or comments?”

I turned and angrily stamped off, Night dismissing the barrier before I hit it.

I hated how right he was.

==

I got a few more hours of sleep. All of us needed the rest, and it was late afternoon by the time I was woken up again.

My internal clock was totally screwed. Getting back on a normal sleep cycle was going to be all sorts of fun.

All of us, except for Destruction, got up, fixed some food – rations were starting to run low, with the supply lines having been cut off when the Formorians broke through, then the huge party following our victory was pushing our supplies dangerously thin – then we sat around the central table, Destruction’s snoring punctuating our conversation.

He’d stayed awake for almost three weeks straight. We were all willing to cut him some slack.

Night laid out the situation once again, going much more in-depth into the upcoming movements and potential changes in governing structure that was being planned. I was half snoozing through it, half doing my own thinking.

Just because a rebellion was headed by a general, with a significant portion of the army behind him, didn’t make it any less of a rebellion. Night having spent thousands of years in the military might be skewing his view a hair on the matter. It wasn’t like this was the first time someone had taken a chunk of the army on their way to ‘correct’ things in Remus.

At the same time, by the sounds of it, something like 70%+ of the army was getting involved in some way, shape, or form. I was no political genius – heck, I was a political moron – but when that much of the army, the people with the sharp swords and deadly skills were saying ‘this person’s the new boss’, well. It was kinda hard to argue with them.

The only people that would be arguing with them were the other parts of the army that wanted someone else to be the boss, and yeah. It was shaping up to be real ugly, real fast, if there wasn’t some nice place for the army to be. In a way, the Formorians had been good. They were a source of external pressure keeping everyone united. Almost the literal minute the external pressure was gone, we fell into infighting and bickering.

Blah. Working together for the common good was just too much for some people.

I kept listening in on the conversation, not having much to add. It was all ‘implied support’ this and ‘appearance of neutrality’ that. I got a bit more interested once we moved on from the topic.

“Do you want me to stay here to turn the fortifications into a town?” Bulwark asked. “It’s out of the way, and it’s part of what I do. It helps that the only people it’ll look like I’m helping are the soldiers staying out of the fight, which should help with our appearance of neutrality. We already have walls, the expensive part’s done. If it wasn’t for the breach, the place would already be a town.” Bulwark said, to almost everyone nodding along to what he was saying.

Toxic and I exchanged horrified looks. A quizzical tilt of my head, a sharp jerk by his. Silent, non-Ranger-standard communication.

Afterall, everyone here could read Ranger communication.

“No.” Toxic and I both said together.

Night looked at us and frowned.

“Are you certain?” He asked.

“Absolutely.” I said, giving him a look. One that tried to say that he better go along with my plan if he wanted me to go along with his.

Ok, fine. I was going to help Hunting out either way. I didn’t want him diving deep into despair anymore than Night did. I liked Hunting too much for that.

Toxic took in a deep breath.

“It’s the poison I was using.” He said, chin up, staring unblinkingly at each one of us until he moved onto the next person to lock eyes with.

“It’s poisoned the land, the soil, the water. It’s poisoned everything, and it’s cycling back through. Anyone that lives here, anything that’s grown here, will have small traces of the poison.”

Brawling sprayed the water he was drinking out of his mouth, onto all of us. A shield flickered in front of Bulwark and Night as they expertly deflected the surprise attack.

Toxic stoically accepted the spray as his due punishment. Nature seemed delighted to get some water for his plants – well, water that didn’t come from his mug, and Hunting seemed to just not care.

Destruction was snoring through it all.

Which left me, spluttering with indignation as I got sprayed. I didn’t have the reflexes to handle surprise water attacks from close-range, not without [Bullet Time] giving me a hand. For all that [Bullet Time] occasionally stretched to help me with not quite lethal situations, there was no wayit was going to help me with surprise water.

I shot my deadliest, most withering look at Brawling, who was still staring at the mug with a look of horror.

“Dawn! Quick! You gotta save me!” Brawling said, reaching across the table to touch me.

I kept up my mad face as I touched him, letting [Dance with the Heavens] pulse through him.

No mana drained.

“Thanks! Thought I was a goner. Cute angry face by the way.”

Right.

“You idiot! If the poison was bad enough to kill the physical Sentinel after being diluted a million times, we wouldn’t be sitting here discussing it, now would we!” I shouted at Brawling. “We’d all be dead a dozen times over!”

Brawling looked kinda sheepish at that, and was getting unimpressed looks from the rest of the Sentinels.

“If Toxic were that lethal, there wouldn’t be a single living soul in the camp.” Night softly said. “Nor would we have had this issue with the Formorians. We digress. Back to the subject at hand. Dawn. Toxic. New towns and cities are troublesome to arrange and build, to say the least. Properly founding a new location is a massive undertaking, requiring scouts, an army legion, a nearby quarry, and mining large quantities of stone to build walls in the first place. We have an opportunity here, a town, ready-made and able to accept settlers, with pre-established trade routes. On the other hand, the area is slightly poisonous.”

Night closed his eyes, thinking about it, then opened them up.

“Right. While this situation is larger than just us, we move as a unit. We move as one. Our words have weight, meaning, gravitas. What will our recommendation for the future of this encampment be? Discuss.”