Chapter 136 - The Weight of Instincts (Patreon)

Tucker knelt beside a scrubby bush, then bent down until his face was only inches from the otherwise barren earth. The bush itself was unremarkable – just a typical example of desert vegetation, hardy, spiny, and with limbs of weathered wood. However, at its base was the target for which Tucker had been searching for the past three hours. Sweat dripped down his brow, staining the brown dirt as he reached forward and between the bush’s scraggly branches. With fingers steadied by decades of practice, he plucked a colorful desert flower from the earth. His hands never wavered as he slowly pulled it away in a jar. Enchanted to preserve the specimen, it would keep it fresh until he could prepare it for use in one of his potions.

“What’s it called?” asked Zeke, who stood nearby, scanning the horizon for threats. He’d stowed his armor, but he’d armed himself with his bone-hafted mace and his half-melted shield. The bulwark had lost some of its efficacy as a shield, but it was still better than nothing, at least according to the young warrior. For Tucker’s money, he didn’t see why his comrade even bothered. The man’s endurance was so high that he could weather most blows with ease; a shield wasn’t going to add much to his survivability. But Tucker kept his opinions to himself, mostly because he knew he was still standing on thin ice with his companions.

None of them had forgotten the circumstances of their meeting, even if they had accepted him into the party. He’d tried to make himself useful, to show them that he was one of them, but his efforts were largely ineffective. Where they’d accepted Talia with open arms, they still kept Tucker at something of a distance. Even if he could sympathize with their reasoning, it was still frustrating. After all, he’d been working for a monster, albeit involuntarily, and one didn’t simply forget that overnight.

“You didn’t inspect it?” Tucker asked, brushing the dirt from his vest as he rose to his feet. He held up the jar, eyeing the flower inside. It looked mostly ordinary, almost like a tiny lotus, but instead of colorful petals, they were jet black. And in its center was a dancing flame.

Zeke shook his head. “I forget sometimes,” he admitted. “Kind of an ongoing problem, if I’m honest. I don’t use all my skills, either.”

“You’ve only been here for what? A few years?” Tucker said, putting the jar into his satchel. He could’ve asked Zeke to store it in that impressive spatial storage of his, but that would require that Tucker trust his companion. He did, but not enough to depend on Zeke to store his alchemical supplies. In any case, he’d process the flower when they set up the tower for the night.

“Something like that,” Zeke said. “Sometimes, the time frame gets a little hazy. I spent most of the first couple of years underground, so there’s every possibility that I’m wrong about how long it took me to get to the surface. I was alone, too, so that just…I don’t know…”

Tucker nodded, moving on to the next bush, which was about thirty yards away. As someone who’d spent quite a bit of time alone, he certainly knew how it could affect a person’s psyche. Not only did it make it easy to drift into distant memories, but it also removed quite a bit of context from the passage of time. So, without the steady rise and setting of the sun to mark the days, he could see just how easily someone might lose track. He’d experienced something similar while mired in the mist-shrouded Farindale Forest before being enslaved by Micayne.

“I get it,” Tucker said, bending down and carefully harvesting another flower. “But take it from someone who’s been through something similar – it gets easier as you move along through life.”

“Yeah. Okay,” was Zeke’s noncommittal response. Tucker was struck by a sense of nostalgia; his son, James, had often responded the same way to his advice, especially during his teenage years. It was only when he got much older that he began to take Tucker’s advice. Zeke must have noticed his change of expression, because he said, “Did I say something wrong?”

Tucker shook his head. “No,” he answered. “Just that you remind me of my son.”

“Oh.”

“He was a good kid, and he grew up to be an even better man, so take it as a compliment,” Tucker stated, placing the flower into its own jar and stowing it away in his satchel, where it clinked against the other glassware. Indeed, he’d had the good fortune of seeing his children grow into fine adults and start families of their own. “I still wonder what I’d do if I ran into them here. Would they approve of the man I’ve become? Would they even recognize me? I don’t know. Last time I saw them, I was in my seventies. So, I…I just don’t know.”

“They might not even have been reborn yet,” Zeke said. “Or it could’ve happened a hundred years ago. There’s no way of knowing. They might’ve even moved on to the next plane.”

“What?” Tucker asked, turning to face Zeke, more than a little urgency in his voice. He’d heard rumors that the Radiant Isles were only a small portion of their new world, and that world, in turn, was just the first step into a new universe. However, he’d rarely found others who believed the same thing. “What do you know about it?”

Zeke answered, “I’ve told you about it, right? About Oberon and what he told me before I was reborn?”

The name rang a couple of bells, like he’d heard it in passing rather than as part of a conversation directed at him. So, he suggested, “Why don’t you tell me now?”

Zeke complied, launching into the story of his rebirth, including Oberon’s revelation that, at level twenty-five, they would be eligible to climb to a higher plane, gain a class, and join in on some sort of struggle against the forces of evil. Or that was how Zeke told it, at least. For his part, Tucker read between the lines, and he recognized a bit of propaganda in there. Everyone saw their enemies as evil, but they weren’t always objective or accurate. However, even if he didn’t take it at face value, Tucker saw opportunity in Zeke’s story. More, the young man’s drive to improve made more sense when taken in context.

“Interesting,” Tucker said, stroking his beard. “Very interesting.”

Zeke ran his fingers through his hair, saying, “You believe me? Everyone else I’ve told kind of looked at me like I’m crazy. Even Abby was skeptical until we met Aja.”

“That makes sense.”

“Really?” Zeke asked.

“I know you like Abby,” Tucker said. “And admittedly, I don’t know her all that well. But from what I can see, she’s a pretty straightforward kind of person. Probably why you two get along. My point is that unless she can see something with her own two eyes, she’s probably not going to really believe in it. Which is kind of silly, if you think about it. This is a world of magic, and according to you, it’s only the tip of the iceberg. We don’t know a fraction of what’s waiting for us out there. So, skepticism is a bit…I don’t know…it just seems inappropriate, given the circumstances.”

Zeke nodded along, which gave Tucker a little hope for the young man. Then, he asked, “Can I ask you something?”

“Sure, kid,” Tucker said. “What’s on your mind?”

Zeke looked away, his gaze settling on something on the horizon. There was nothing out there but more desert. Finally, after a few seconds of hesitation, Zeke asked, “Do you think it’s stupid to want to protect your friends?”

“Is this about your skills?” Tucker asked, guessing what was on Zeke’s mind. He’d overheard Abby talking about it with Talia, so he knew a little about the issue. However, he would withhold judgment until he heard both sides.

Zeke answered, “Yeah. Since I’ve been in the Radiant Isles, I’ve only taken two skills that really made me more powerful. One was my first skill, [Leech Strike], and it’s been incredible. The second was [Heart of the Berserker]. I used it during the fight with the giants.”

“I remember,” Tucker stated. Indeed, it wasn’t all that different from the other berserker skills Tucker had seen. It was powerful, but that power came at a price; in Zeke’s case, that meant he traded a period of increased physical stats for one of overwhelming weakness. He was also more vulnerable while it was active, but that didn’t seem to bother the young warrior very much.

“Right, so the other two skills I’ve taken have been to help others,” Zeke explained. “First, at ten, I took [Mark of Companionship]. At the time, it was kind of a panic-driven decision. Pudge was dying, and it was all I could do to save him. I didn’t even really look at my other options. I think that’s when I started to realize how much I needed other people.”

Tucker wanted to point out that Pudge wasn’t a person, but given that the dire bear was clearly sapient, he didn’t know how much water that argument would hold. On top of that, it was neither the time nor the place to debate labels. So, he just nodded.

Zeke went on, “After spending so much time alone, I needed company, even if it was a wild baby bear. Does that make sense?”

“It does.”

“It shouldn’t have worked, either,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “It wouldn’t have if I hadn’t done the stupidest thing I’ve done since being reborn. I altered the rune so I could use it on Pudge, and that resulted in our soul bond. But knowing the things I know now, if I’d have made even a slight mistake, it would have obliterated the both of us. The rune would have imploded, and…well, let’s just say it would have been a very bad situation.”

“Understandable.”

“Really? Because I’ve been going over it in my head, and as much as I love Pudge, I keep coming back to how stupid it was,” Zeke said.

“Stupid or not, which is debatable, by the way, your decision made sense,” Tucker said. “Think about it for a second. For however long you were in those caves –”

“Two years, I think,” Zeke supplied.

“Right – two years,” Tucker said. “For two years, every single living thing you came into contact with tried to kill you, right? So, that bear, she was the first creature that didn’t. And you latched onto it. You were lonely, lost, and probably afraid you’d never find anything that wasn’t hostile ever again. So, when Pudge’s mother died, you leapt to her cub’s rescue. It makes perfect sense.”

“Huh. Never thought of it like that,” Zeke said.

“You should try to from now on,” Tucker advised. “We all have our reasons for making the choices we make, even if we’re not sure why we do the things we do. So, what about level fifteen? I’m guessing you chose – what was it? [Mark of the Bear], right?”

“Yeah. I chose it because I wanted to protect Pudge and Abby,” Zeke said.

“It’s not a sin to want to protect the people you care about,” Tucker stated.

“I know. But for my level twenty ability, I was geared up to take this skill that would let me take some damage from other people, but I let Abby talk me out of it,” he said. “But it’s my skill, right? It should be up to me.”

Tucker could see the writing on the wall. If he wanted to, this was his chance to drive a wedge between Abby and Zeke, and if he was honest with himself, he sorely wanted to do just that. After all, Abby had been nothing but a thorn in his side ever since he’d joined the group. If she suddenly lost Zeke’s favor, then it would do nothing but make Tucker’s life easier. That just wasn’t the person he wanted to be, though. And besides, he was a sucker for love stories – even ones that were inevitably doomed to ruin, like the one between Abby and Zeke. He’d seen a lot of relationships, both ones that worked and those that hadn’t, and he could see that, while the pair of them might truly care about one another, they were far too different for their relationship to last. But he was still rooting for them.

He said, “Listen – she’s just looking out for you.”

“How so?” Zeke asked, obviously a bit confused.

“She’s trying to cut your guilt off before it has a chance to take root,” Tucker said. “I’ve seen it happen before. You’ve taken ownership of this group, right? You think it’s your responsibility to see everyone safely through to the other side. That – as well as your fear of loneliness, of course – is the reason you’re so hellbent on protecting everyone. Abby’s smart enough to see how toxic that kind of mindset can be. Further, it robs all of us of responsibility for our own lives. And let me tell you, kid – if I die, it’s because of choices I’ve made. Not you. It's the same with Talia, Abby, and even Pudge.”

“But if I have the chance to protect everyone –”

“Take it. By all means, wrap your whole identity up in being some kind of great protector,” Tucker said, his voice a little more animated than he intended. “But it won’t make you happy. And it won’t keep you from losing people. This is a dangerous world fully of things that want to kill us. And sometimes, those things are going to succeed, regardless of what skills you’ve taken.”

“I don’t accept that.”

“Accept it or not, that’s just how it is,” Tucker said, reaching out to grip Zeke’s shoulder. The man was a ball of tense muscles. “Jesus – relax, kid. We’re not going to get ambushed out here. We can see for miles.”

“Funny,” Zeke said. “In my experience, that’s exactly when the monsters attack.”

Almost as if something – whether it was the world, the universe, or some sort of monster – had heard that statement, the ground chose that moment to let out a rumble. A moment later, the terrain began to shift, cracks in the earth spreading out in a spiderweb of tiny ravines.

“See?” Zeke muttered. “Just what I said…”

“Goddammit,” Tucker spat, already summoning one of his grenades. “You’re going to need to hit it hard and fast, okay? Don’t let it get moving.”

“What is it?” Zeke asked, already seeing something begin to emerge from the ground.

“Something that shouldn’t be this far north,” Tucker said. “Get ready, kid. Maybe use that new skill you didn’t want to take, yeah?”

Zeke flipped his wrist, twirling his bone-hafted mace as he said, “This will be as good of a test as any, I guess.”

At that moment, something huge burst from the earth, showering them in sand, dirt, and rocks. Even as Zeke sprinted toward the behemoth, Tucker cocked his arm back and tossed his first grenade at the monster. It landed with an impressive conflagration, but it did little damage. Despite the advice he’d given Zeke, it seemed that this was going to be a long and difficult fight.