The World Which Is, CH 99

The return to Louisville is…odd. To me, at least. I don’t think the others feel the same. There’s just this…disconnect I can’t seem to

The return to Louisville is…odd. To me, at least.

I don’t think the others feel the same.

There’s just this…disconnect I can’t seem to resolve. I wonder if that’s what the world felt like before the system. I mean, it’s still there for me. I can call up the windows, I get answers to my queries.

But…it doesn’t feel real?

I don’t know how to explain it. I’d say it’s like a dream, but those have been too real since….

Silver sleeps with me and holds me when I wake up screaming, when I cry afterward.

We’re attacked by monsters a few times, and the ease with which I dispatch one just adds to the disconnect. I’m not that high level. Going from fifteen to nineteen shouldn’t feel so…good? Strong?

It’s so strange. I haven’t become so good that I don’t get hurt, so I get to test the recuperate spell putting points in Second Wind gave me. I put all the points in it to make it easier to raise my healing spell levels, since I don’t gain spell points.

Why would any human want to do magic if it’s going to be that hard?

The spell doesn’t outright heal me.

The trek’s quicker in this direction. Brandon knows the city well, so he knows where it is. I also get that sense, but I haven’t explored enough of it to get more than a ‘it’s somewhere over there’ kind of sense when I think of it, while, if I think of Court, it’s ‘there’. I could close my eyes, and I’d reach it following that sense.

The plan for Louisville is to restock, spend a night sleeping in a proper bed and then heading toward Kansas City.

The plan doesn’t survive us arriving there.

Well, me, arriving there.

We enter Sam’s inn; I take in the people there, the fact that I actually made it here. Survived to make it back. Survived Alexander Pope.

I killed him.

*

“What happened?” I still feel tired, but I don’t remember going to bed.

“You passed out,” Helen says.

It doesn’t hit me, but trickles in. Everything that’s happened, and getting out of bed no longer feels appealing. I force myself to sit. “Give me…”

“Don’t worry,” she says. “We all need a break, and we no longer have to rush.”

Right, Xander’s not hounding me.

With me having killed him.

I turn on my side and curl into a ball.

*

“You should eat,” Sam says, placing a plate on the side table. The food smells good, but—

“I’m not hungry,” I say in the pillow I’m clutching as if it can keep me from drowning in this emptiness.

He places a large hand on my shoulder, but the squeeze is gentle. “You should still eat. You need your strength.”

The hand moves away, and I grab it. “Stay, please?” The idea of being alone with this emptiness scares me.

He lies on the bed next to me, places a thick arm over me.

I realize I’m naked, that he’s not, and I don’t care. I’m not looking for sex, just a reminder that there’s someone else there. That the world isn’t empty.

“I’m here,” he whispers, tightening his hold. “You’re safe.”

I cry, because for the first time since what I did, I believe that’s true.

*

“How are you feeling?” Sam asks when I step to the counter. He offers me a cup of coffee.

I give him a dismissive shrug, then force myself to answer him. “I don’t know.” I stared into the cup. Its blackness matches the emptiness in me.

He squeezes my arm. “It’s going to pass.”

“How do you know?” Maybe there’s a hint of hope in my voice?

His chuckle is gentle. “You aren’t the only one to have suffered from depression, Dennis.”

“You?” I ask, stunned. He’s always so…happy.

“Yeah. Me, Brandon, pretty much anyone in the inn who’s had to deal with life has suffered from it at one time. The world’s rough, Dennis, that takes it a toll. Especially on people like you, brave enough to venture out there and confront the monsters.”

I snort. “I’m not that brave.”

He puts a finger under my chin and forced me to look him in those large, deep, brown eyes. “You are brave. This doesn’t invalidate that. You faced what’s out there. You face the people that hunted you down. The guy who put the price on your head. Most people I know would have given him what he wanted, instead of telling him to fuck off.”

I chuckle. “I was just pissed.”

“Believe it or not, that’s a form of bravery. That’s taking fear and telling it to fuck off.”

I chuckle again, and he smiles. Somehow, his eyes seem brighter.

“See? It’s passing already.”

“Sure it is,” I say, smiling, and enjoy my coffee.

The feeling lasts until I step outside, then everything feels gray again. But I push through and head to a marketplace. I probably need some things, but I just want to be where life’s happening. Try to absorb some to fill the darkness.

People move about, talking, selling and buying.

Stealing.

Watching as a thief’s hand ‘vanishes’ into someone’s back, returning holding something I can’t make out. It pisses me off. Why isn’t anyone doing anything about it? But I’m the only one who noticed, and the thief’s already lost himself in the crowd.

I should chase him, force him to return it, make him pay. Who’d miss someone like that, anyway? Next time I catch someone stealing, they’re going to regret it.

I walk out of the marketplace and consider my options.

Where am I likely to find criminals? Where are the bad parts of the city? They always have some. Places where the criminals go to hide. Who can I ask that will guide me there?

“Hey Dennis!”

Brandon’s heading in my direction at a fast walk. He’d definitely know.

“Since you’re up and about,” he says, before I can. “I figured we should all sit down and figure out what we’re doing. You okay?”

Listening to him, having to figure out what he’s suggesting means, makes me realize I’m holding on to my anger, stoking it. As soon as I stop thinking about that thief, about others hurting people just to get something from them, the length I was willing to go to just to feel ‘something’ hits me.

“Not really.”

“You want to talk about it?”

I shrug. “It’s depression. I don’t know that there’s anything to talk about.”

He searches my face, then nods.

*

“The best option to reach Kansas City,” Brandon says, unfolding a map on the table, “is to take West Trade Route.” It’s hand drawn, but has a lot of routes and notes in the form of symbols. He traces a line on it with a finger. “It’s not the shortest, or fastest, but as a trade route, it’s the one with the lowest wilderness rating. I figure we can do with some easy travels for a while.” He taps a point marked as St-Louis. “That city is about three weeks’ walk away, but Bloomfield and Effingham are decent sized towns. There’ll be villages along the way too. From there, we go to Springfield. It’s another three weeks or so. Then it’s Tulsa, and after that is Kansas City.”

“It’s about three weeks between each city?” Helen asks, studying the route. Brandon nods. “Should we find a caravan to travel with, it would cost, but we can get a wagon to ride one and—”

“Can we not?” I ask. The idea of being around other people doesn’t appeal to me. I can’t shake the feeling they’re going to cause trouble. And I really don’t want that.

“I think it would be good for you to be around people, Dennis,” she says.

I expect Brandon to comment, and when he doesn’t I have to say something. All I have to go on is what happened at the market. “I don’t think I’m in a good place to deal with trouble if it happens.”

“There’s going to be guards dealing with that.” She looks at Brandon, but he shrugs.

“You can take one and wait for us in St-Louis,” I offer.

“No, I’m going to stick with you.” The look she gives her brother makes it clear why. After every thing, she still doesn’t trust him not to cause trouble himself.

“Excuse me,” an orc woman said, “I don’t know if you remember me, but—”

“Al?” Silver says.

It takes me a few seconds to place the name, and the woman. “She pointed us toward the dungeon,” I tell Brandon, and his expression shifts to worry, for some reason.

“I wanted to ask about the dungeon, actually. Was anything off about it?”

“Off how?” I try to remember details, but I’m mainly left with the sense of being overwhelmed by what we had to confront.

“Like it being easier that you thought?”

“Definitely not. A lot of the times I didn’t know if we’d make it out. Why?”

“A team came back from it last week, and it’s dead.”

“Dungeons can die?” Silver asks.

“Apparently. I think you’re the last ones to go in before them, so I thought I’d check if it was already dying.”

“If it was dying, I don’t want to think what it was like before.”

“Did you tell them about Dennis going in?” Brandon asks her.

“No, I heard about it because I was in that part of the city. And remember him asking about it. I figured they’ll want to ask you questions, but I wanted to make sure you had gone in first. They’re the experts, so they’ll be able to tell from your answers when it might have started.”

“Okay, well, you know where we are,” I tell her, and she leaves. “I guess we’re staying a bit longer.”

“No,” Brandon says, watching her exit the inn. “We need to leave right now.”

“Brandon,” Helen says, glaring at him. “What did you do?”

“Nothing,” he replies without making the tone flippant, as I expect. “I was restrained against a wall the entire time you were in there. I’ll explain once we’re out of the city. Trust me, Dennis. You don’t want to be here when she brings them.”

The urgency in his tone pierces through the emptiness I feel, and I stand. “We’ll resupply at the first town.” Having something to do makes it easier to ignore the little I feel. “Go get your things.”

*

Brandon finally calls an end to our forced walk when there’s hardly any light by which to make camp. He has us set it among the trees and I’m annoyed. I really thought I was done with that now that I’m not being hunted anymore.

“You’d better have one fucking good explanation,” Helen says as she passes around hard bread and dried fruits and vegetables. I’m the only one who hasn’t resupplied, on account of being in bed all those days.

“You three killed the dungeon.”

“Get off it, Bran.”

“I’m serious. That thing you handed the old man? That was its core. It’s heart, his life force. Whatever you want to call it, it’s what kept it alive.”

“No, you’re wrong,” I say, my inside twisting.

“I wish.”

“When did you know?” Silver asks, growing pale.

“When he described it.”

“And you let us go kill it?” Helen snaps. “You selfish bastard. You only think about your—”

“I wasn’t in a state to tell you anything,” He replies in a flat tone, “and believe it or not, I tried to stop you, because I didn’t think you’d survive. With all due respect, Dennis. You weren’t a hardened adventurer. You had no idea what you were getting into.”

I nod. The dungeon we went in as a group hadn’t prepared me for that one.

“Look, if it makes it easier, remember that it’s just a thing.”

“You said we killed it,” Helen snaps.

“Yes, the same way you kill a car if you rip out its power stone. It’s just a machine.”

“One the people of Louisville depended on,” I say, my tone as empty as my insides.

“No. One that helped. They can buy anything the people going in found. It just means they’ll have to spend money, instead of lives.”

Silver’s silent, hunched in on herself. Helen’s pissed, and Brandon watching us.

“What’s done is done,” I say, exhaustion weighing me down. “You should have told me as soon as we rescued you, Brandon. They had a right to know what I did.” I turn my back to him and crawl into my tent.