Chapter 11: Confused Eyes (Patreon)

“When’s the next test?” Jason asked Greg.

“If I may,” Zed interrupted. “What’s this test about?”

“Every important job role has a test,” Oliver explained. “Just to be sure the person is qualified for the role.”

“And if, say, I want to be a farmer?” Zed asked.

“Then we’ll need to talk to Heimdall, again,” Ash answered. “And I doubt he’ll let you anywhere near the farms. In case you didn’t notice, he doesn’t like you.”

Zed shrugged. “He doesn’t like Oliver, too, but he seems to be doing just fine.”

“The test is more of a training,” Jason interceded, tired. “An instructor, someone Heimdall trusts knows what he’s doing, will take a few of the new hunters out and they’ll hunt some monsters. It’s not a big deal.”

“And what if—”

“Zed, please,” Jason cut him off, “just please. Don’t make this difficult. Take the training, the test, whatever it is, and after that, we’ll see.”

Zed frowned at him but said nothing. His mood was still somber, and his attempts to joke it away had failed. In hindsight, trying to joke it away had simply been him being difficult. He knew he wasn’t going to be a farmer. If he was being honest, hunting was probably something he was good at. He knew it as a sinner knows their sin. Besides, he had a strong feeling his notifications wouldn’t let him do anything else.

“Sorry,” he said finally. “When’s the training?”

He strolled back to the edge of the caravan and leaned against the wall. In front of him the team conversed with Greg and he paid them no attention. Instead, he ran his fingers through his hair and it caught a tangle. He rubbed the tangled locks between his fingers and found it was actually a knot that met at the middle properly fashioned. He trailed it up and smiled. It turned out Cindy hadn’t just been playing with his hair. She’d been braiding it too.

A child and a loving father slipped into his mind. It widened Zed’s smile, though it was sorrowful. Gently, with the care of a father handling his child’s handiwork, he loosened the knot and the locks fell. One of them fell to the side of his face and he felt it against his cheek.

His smile softened.

…………………………….

“You sure he’s okay?” Ash whispered to Oliver, looking at Zed.

“Why do you ask?” Oliver replied.

She pointed a discreet finger at Zed. “One minute he’s broody over his daughter, making everything difficult. Now he’s smiling to himself and playing with his hair. And what were you all doing playing with kids?”

“He saw them and wanted to spend some time with them,” Oliver said. “Can you blame him? After what he went through you can’t blame him for wanting some sense of normal, can you?”

“And the shoe thing?”

Oliver shrugged. “You heard him. He’s got some kind of phobia.”

“There’s no fear of shoes phobia, Ollie.”

“Well how would I know that, Ash?”

“Guys.”

They turned to find Jason frowning.

“We’re going to have a bit of a problem with the instructor,” he said, then turned back to Greg. It was obvious he’d just wanted to draw their attention. “You said the next screening is in four days, right?”

“Yes.”

“And instructor Jeremiah’s in charge of it, correct?”

“I don’t remember stuttering.”

Jason turned to them and said, “Anyone see the problem?”

“Jeremiah’ll eat him alive,” Chris said. “Without magic he’ll never pass.”

“Yeah,” Ash agreed. “Now call me biased but I saw what he can do with that tomahawk. We need him among the hunters. Anywhere else will be a waste of his skills.”

Jason turned back to Greg. “When’s the next screening?”

Greg turned his gaze upward and hummed in thought.

“Next week?” he said, unsure.

“And who’s in charge of that one?” Oliver asked with a smile.

“Donovan,” Greg answered.

Jason turned to the rest of the team. “What do you guys think about Donovan?”

“Donovan’s fair,” Chris said. “At least he won’t hold his personality against him.”

“I really don’t see what you guys have against his personality,” Oliver said.

“That’s cause you both have the same personality,” Ash said.

“It’s cute on you,” Chris agreed. “But not on a guy with eyes like that.”

Oliver’s brows furrowed. “Green eyes?”

“Confused eyes,” Jason said. “It’s like he’s as confused as we are when he says some of the things he does.”

Greg tapped the table, drawing their attention back to him. “I know I don’t really have any job to do and look free normally,” he said. “But I am free normally. I like it that way, and I’d like to keep it that way. So hurry up and get out of my office.”

“It’s a container,” Chris said.

Greg scowled at her.

“Sorry,” Jason said, ever the diplomat. “Can you fit Zed in for Donovan’s screening?”

Greg shook his head. “You’ll have to talk to Heimdall about that one. I just fit them in when they come.”

“I’ll talk to him,” Jason said, then turned to Ash. “You’re certain you can vouch for his skills?”

“With a tomahawk?” She nodded. “Yes. Anything else? I’ve got no idea.”

“I’ll be able to get him up to speed in aura and mana,” Oliver added. “One week should be more than enough.”

“Careful who you go batting for, Ollie,” Ash said. “You just met the guy. For all we know he might be hiding a lot of things.”

“True. But I’ve got a good feeling about him. And you know I’m good with people.”

“Yeah,” Ash said without much conviction. She turned to Zed and found him toying with his braided hair, smiling at it, as if mesmerized. “Well, just make sure you don’t get too attached. Whatever he’s hiding, I’ve got a bad feeling about it.”

…………………………

Later that night Zed sat on a couch with little thoughts on his mind. Well, the couch was on his mind. For one thing, it was uncomfortable. It was torn and had been made with foam that was sticking out at different places. Its armrest was more wood than cushion and while it was long enough to house him for the night, he already found himself dreading his sleep. He was already missing the woods where he’d woken up this morning. The grass there had been softer.

Oliver and Ash shared the same house. It was the one Zed had had a shower in earlier in the day and he was currently seated in the living room.

Zed smoothed a hand over a bump in the couch, not expecting it to make any difference. It didn’t. The bump stared back at him with the petulance of an overactive child. Ignoring it, he leaned back on the couch and let out a soft breath. He’d had a day. Woken up in the middle of nowhere, killed four creatures that were nothing short of terrifying and watched a man shoot out balls of light from his hands while emasculating a giant monster with air.

It was like a story from the comic books he used to read as a child. He paused at the description and searched through his memories. Certain it belonged to him not any of the other memories he had, he relaxed.

He still had second thoughts on the new pocket memory, though.

A part of him feared it would hold more memories of the loving father or the soldiers. He remembered his time as a tyrannical dictator and shivered visibly. He definitely didn’t want more memories from that guy. So far he’d been lucky on that front. The only memories that felt too vivid had been The Berserker’s. The rage. The calculated destructiveness. If Zed tried hard enough he could feel the fear people had harbored for him.

Zed couldn’t say he hated that person, whoever he was, but he knew it wasn’t him. His instincts leaned more in the direction of joviality and fun. The adults in the town, those who seemed to have spent more time in this world since it went to waste, were disinclined towards it. But the easier going people, those who didn’t seem crushed beneath the despair of the situation seemed to like it. The children especially.

Zed liked to think that was a good thing.

Too much gloom in the world will make us forget how to smile, he thought to himself. Just take a look at Heimdal, all squares.

He felt a chuckle tease his lips and suppressed it. The others were already beginning to think something was wrong with him, there was no reason to help the thought along with sounds of him chuckling to himself. He doubted Oliver would hold it against him but Ash was somewhere in the house, too. Most likely in her room.

He thought back to the container, wondering what he’d be doing for a week while he waited for his screening to be a hunter. He could get to know more of the people in the town. There were some of the elderly, rare as they were, that seemed like it would be fun.

Maybe he’d hang out at the market, learn about this new currency they use; see what the rate was like against the dollar. Or he could spend some time with the children. Something didn’t sit right with the last thought and it died in his mind, smothered by a morality he couldn’t place from any of the lives he vaguely remembered.

Maybe he could try finding someone and seeing what they were like; someone everyone in town looked up to, or at least didn’t think was a weirdo. It wouldn’t do much for the confusion the others saw in his eyes but it would do something for the behavior. After all, he couldn’t change what he couldn’t see, but he could at least change the behaviors he displayed; give people the decent and civilized person they wanted to see.

Or you could end up looking like a creep following some guy around, he thought, as he laid down on the couch. It was definitely uncomfortable.

Now as comfortable as he felt he was ever going to be on the couch, he pulled up a notification he’d been keeping at bay for a long time.

• Would you like to use [Pocket memory(incomplete)]?

He’d kept it at bay since, stalling until he made a decision. That and the memory of the pain of getting his first set of memories. He had no intentions of suddenly falling in pain out of nowhere.

At least, here he had the comfortable discomfort of groaning and moaning on a couch. If it got too bad and he needed something more comfortable, he could always roll to the floor. It was cold but he was sure he would survive.

He stared at the notification a while longer than he really had to. His mind still contemplated. His uncertainty still played dice with everything else. Slowly, a choice was taking form and he couldn’t say he liked it.

Am I sure this is what I want? He asked himself. It could be worse than last time. Hell, I could wake up as someone else. Unlikely, though. He paused. Then again, people shooting light from their hands is supposed to be unlikely.

“Ah, fuck,” he muttered. “What’s the worst that could happen?”

He thought at the notification and gave his mental assent.

• You have consumed [Pocket memory(incomplete)] (Who am      I?) 1/5.
• [Pocket memory(incomplete)] (Who am I?) remaining: 4/4

The world shifted around Zed and pain came to dwell in his mind. The last thing he remembered was thinking of a word he was beginning to worry might be his favorite word.

Fuck.

• You have unlocked dreamscape [The Berserker].