The Conciege
patreon
(TLO) Chapter 48: We Do What We Must
🕑 Added 2023-08-27 18:53:30 +0000 UTCWhat had the boy been thinking?
He had been watching Igor as he stepped in the room, just like the rest of his brothers, contemplating on Borriovani’s safety and his own. But when the priest had turned to speak to Seth, things had changed. Timilehin’s attack had been far from predicted. And how he had struck, it was ludicrous. How had he covered the distance so quickly?
All these thoughts made Jason frown as Igor left the room, their thrashing brother in his arms. With the absence of the priest, he moved to join Seth to ensure their brother was safe. From what he had seen, Igor had not struck the boy as some form of training, which meant there was no reason to hold back. Timilehin was a mere moment from death.
He worried as he approached, but when Seth sat back with a sigh of relief, he was glad. He was not ready to lose any more brothers than he already had in the last twenty-four hours since waking up.
“That was close,” Seth murmured low enough for it to have been to himself as they approached him.
“What was he thinking?” Forlorn asked, before Jason could speak. “Attacking one of the Reverends is suicide.”
“And punishable,” Jason added lightly, as the rest of them turned to look at Seth.
“Did you know he was going to do this?” Fin asked Seth from beside Jason.
Seth shrugged. “How was I supposed to?”
“He attacked after Igor spoke to you,” Forlorn pointed out in explanation.
“And so?”
“What did you say to him?”
Jason worried at Forlorn’s growing tone. The boy was being rude again, acting as if he had been offended personally. He was accusing instead of questioning.
Seth’s gaze rose to meet the boy’s, challenging. “And why would I have said anything?”
“Maybe because you don’t like Igor and needed someone to do your dirty work for you, you cowardly oaf!” Forlorn spat.
Jason knew the moment Forlorn had gone too far. It wasn’t anything new, but they were still relatively fresh from the test, and he remembered how he had felt after waking up. It had been bad for him, his anger flaring everywhere when Timilehin had been the only one awake. The boy’s ignorance of him, as old as it was, vexed him. It had been all he could do not to start a fight with the boy. Still, his anger boiled steadily. The boy’s obsessive watch over Seth, staring and unflinching, like a guard.
Seth turned where he was seated on the floor. He shot off the floor and came at Forlorn like a charging bull. Jason had sparred with Seth a few times and had never lost. There was always something about the boy, as if he was constantly distracted. As much as he could fight, he never connected his forms well enough. His rhythm was always breaking, as if he was indecisive about which form to use.
But the look in Seth’s eyes right now brought fear to Jason. He had the look of someone about to do something very decisive, and Jason did not want to find out what it was. He didn’t want to know what Seth could do when he was decisive.
“Fin!” Jason barked even as Forlorn staggered back in surprise, knowing Fin would answer his call. “Stop him.”
Barnabas moved before Fin, barring Seth’s path with an arm with no intention for violence.
Fool, Jason thought. Did Barnabas not see what had happened; what was about to happen. Seth would not be stopped with anything less than violence.
Seth ducked under Barnabas’ outstretched arm smoothly. When he came up, Fin was already in place, arm shooting out to grab Seth.
Fin’s advantage was always his size. With one arm he could toss Seth easily. His size also made it difficult to pass him. And his weight made moving him nigh impossible.
So when Seth grabbed his arm and threw him over his shoulder like a rag doll, Jason’s jaw dropped. But there was a silver lining. The action had reduced the boy’s momentum. If he wanted to continue his charge, he would have to turn around which would slow all his momentum gathered.
Seth seemed to have other plans, though. He turned where he was, completing a pivot from his shoulder throw, stepped on the bed beside him, and leapt of it. There was a disturbing calm in his eyes as he left the ground, a promise of certainty Jason did not remember having ever seen in his brother’s eyes. It was as if all else did not matter. It was as though Forlorn was to be punished for a particularly evil transgression. Not because it was right but because Seth had the power to mete out such punishment.
Tonight Forlorn had sinned, and Seth was the god sinned against.
Fin and Barnabas had escaped relatively unscathed, perhaps he would too. This thought guided Jason to action. With it, he braced himself and barreled into a falling Seth.
His brother struck him like a falling boulder, his weight unnatural. But Jason had prepared himself so that when they collided he staggered back while Seth fell.
Jason recuperated immediately, pulling himself into a fighting stance before Seth could recover. It took him only a moment to realize his brother was done. From the ground, Seth frowned up at him. There was annoyance in his eyes. Annoyance and confusion. But there was no retribution.
Still, Jason waited, cautious, gauging, wondering if their brother was back. All the while Barnabas hugged himself at the corner. His cowering was a sharp contrast to his confidence with a sword in his hand. Behind Seth, Fin was struggling to get up and giving up. That throw must have packed a punch.
When Seth’s eyes finally focused on his, Jason spoke. “Fighting each other will help no one. We’ve already lost three of us.”
Seth cocked his head to the side for a moment, brows furrowed. “I don’t know.”
“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jason kept his annoyance from his voice. Seth was doing it again, giving meaningless answers in conversations, as if touched in the head. He’d been doing it since he’d entered the seminary. How the seminary continued to allow a boy who was clearly mentally ill to train here confused him.
“Three of us are gone,” he continued, remembering Norman, Silverfang, now Borriovani. “Igor just took Borriovani, and no one knows if Josiah is ever coming back.” His mind trailed back to Norman’s lifeless body, plagued itself with how Igor had come in, checked the boy’s pulse, confirmed his death, and just carried him out as if he was taking out the trash. “I don’t think Borriovani’s even coming back.”
“Don’t say that,” Barnabas interrupted.
“But it’s true,” he snapped. “Did he look like someone who would be alright.”
“Igor didn’t even care,” Fin added quietly.
Behind Jason, Forlorn was still pale, yet to regain himself, else he would have added much of his opinion. Jason silently thanked Seth for the boy’s silence.
All the while Seth merely frowned with a confused look on his face while he contemplated something Jason did not know.
“I know you don’t care much for anything but Timilehin,” he said, returning his attention to Seth. “But we remain brothers.”
Seth’s expression changed at his words. Fear came to life where there had been confusion, and the boy paled visibly.
“No,” he said.
Jason shook his head, solemn. It was unfortunate to know Seth still refused to see them as his brothers.
“We are all we have right now, brother, like it or not,” he pressed, hoping to talk some sense into Seth. “Forlorn’s words were uncalled for. Yes. He should not have blamed you. But you had no right attacking him. Apologizing would be a start to sorting this, him to you, and you to him.”
Seth frowned at him, still pale.
“What is it?” he asked.
Something told Jason his brother wasn’t taking him seriously.
“What do you mean?” Jason asked, his annoyance growing. “Forlorn was wrong, but so were you. I understand that Timilehin looks up to you, but you should also learn to keep him in check. What do you think will happen if Igor decides to take Timilehin’s actions seriously?”
Seth’s frown left his lips but not his brows. His worry was still there.
“What’s wrong?” he muttered.
Jason frowned. “Are you even listening to me?”
“How would I know?”
Jason opened his mouth to follow down Forlorn’s path, rejecting the logic that insisted he should not. But before he could speak, Seth beat him to it.
“What day is it?” This time he looked Jason in the eye as he spoke.
The urgency in his voice threw Jason off-kilter. “W—what do you mean?” he stuttered.
“What day is it?!” Seth repeated hurriedly. His expression reminded Jason of the look his mother always had whenever she remembered she’d forgotten something important but couldn’t figure out what it was. “It’s important.”
Fin finally got up from the floor, groaning and ready with an answer. “Monday.”
Seth spared Fin a brief but confused look then turned back to Jason. “We had the test…” he let his voice trail off, then his expression morphed into one of dread. “Shite!”
Whatever was worrying Seth seemed more important than even Timi’s unconscious body. Seth had just discovered something very important about the test, and he needed to share it so they all knew.
Jason was certain of this.
He stepped forward as Seth’s expression became that of a person ready to bolt. Jason hoped to stop him or stall him. “What’s wrong?” he asked.
In response, Seth turned and fled. He hit the frame of the door very audibly on his way out but didn’t stop. In seconds he was gone. They heard the sound of hurried footsteps from the stair case and Fin rushed to the door to see.
Fin stayed at the door for no more than two seconds before turning to them. “He’s gone.”
Jason turned and kicked the metal bed beside him. “Shit!”
……………………………………………..
Seth stood in a vast area of desert. There was nothing but sand to see as far as his eyes could. His feet were bare and the sand spilled from between his toes. He did not turn and he did not move. He did not try to take stock of his environment.
“We’re here,” he said, resigned, as if speaking to someone, and his minds answered him.
We’re here.
He moved trembling hands across himself, right hand to left hip and left hand to right hip. At his hips they took quiet hold of two rough hilts. Their presence was no surprise.
At least it’s not the swamp, one of his mind offered in consolation.
But it’s a new place, another thought. We have no idea what we will meet.
The sand vibrated beneath Seth and he moved for the first time. It was a simple action, nothing grand. He eased himself low, feet astride in an offensive stance.
Why can’t we just protect ourselves the way we know how? a mind complained.
“Because we’d stay here forever if we do,” Seth answered. “We have to win this way, using the techniques that got us here in the first place. Or would we like a repeat of the first time?”
Seth shivered at the thought that creeped up on him as his mind answered. No.
The only way they would survive is if they fought with The Draw and moved the way Jabari had taught them how to walk. The quest was akin to forcing them to complete the daily quest but under danger and the threat of death.
“Good.” He nodded, grip tightening on both swords. “Then do your jobs and let’s get out of here.”
The vibration in the sand worsened until it became more than a tremor, teetering on the edge of an earthquake. Whatever was coming was going to be a challenge.
This will be problematic, his minds complained.
“Then again,” Seth smiled bitterly, “aren’t they always.”
Ten paces ahead of him, the sand sank. It was as though someone had pulled the plug on a particularly tight drain and had it suck all the sand in.
From the hole created, a massive monster shot up.
Seth watched it go up, time flowing as it continued to rise until he was forced to tilt his head back to see it.
Back! His minds barked, and Seth obeyed.
He darted back, covering the space of three strides in one stride. Where he’d been standing, something like a spear made of bone struck. It pierced deep into the sand, yet it raised no dust.
“What the hell was that?” he gasped.
That, his minds answered matter-of-fact.
Seth moved his head as if his minds had pointed, and far above him was his adversary. The creature was the size of a house. On both sides of its body, running the length of it, were massive pincers like the limbs of centipedes. Each one was longer than him from head to toe and pale white as polished bone.
Each one was curved inwards and, judging from the length of the one currently embedded in the sand, they were detachable. Seth measured the length of the one in front of him and swallowed nervously. They were also longer than they looked.
“Are we ready?” he asked, knuckles whitening where they gripped hilts.
Far from it, his minds responded, echoing his own state.
“Well…” he let the words trail off as the monster bent at the top so that he saw its head. In truth, it was less of a head and more of a mouth of countless layers of sharp, bloody, lamprey teeth large enough that his arm could fit between two teeth like a piece of meat.
On its head was a notification.
[Mutated Wyrm].
Seth sighed, tired. “We do what we must.”
