The World Which Is, CH 98

I can’t be dead, and that’s kind of a shame. I’d take that over the amount of pain I’m feeling without even trying. Trying to move fritz-out my brain. If it wasn’t more painful coming out of that than just feeling the pain, I’d keep myself blacked-out.

My heath bar flashes alarmingly. Considering that whatever health I have left isn’t enough to be visible on it, I share the sentiment.

Again, I kind of wish I’d have died from the landing. Suffering through this until it happens isn’t fun.

The pain of reflexively swallowing is excruciating.

When I come to again, nothing’s changed. Health still screaming I’m in the process of dying, but it’s taking its time happening.

Why did I regain consciousness just to be in this much pain? System, you really need to adjust this. No one wants to suffer while—

There’s a sliver of red at the end of my health bar.

Was that there before?

I’m pretty sure it wasn’t, but I don’t know if I can trust my memory, with how fuzzy it is.

I come to again from reflexively swallowing.

What is going on?

The flashing’s still happening.

Is that sliver of red thicker?

It can’t be. There’s no way I heal fast enough—

Wetness registers on my tongue.

I blackout from reflexively swallowing.

I come to.

I can’t tell if the sliver’s thicker, but the flashing is just as alarmed, so maybe this is all—

Wetness again.

I come to, and if I could, I’d be screaming at the system for this torture.

Just end me already, don’t—

This time, I’m certain the sliver is thicker when the wetness hits my tongue.

*

I have lost track of how long this cycle’s been going on, but this time, when I reflexively swallow, it hurts, but I don’t blackout. The sliver of health is now…well still too thin to be worth anything, but there is no doubt I see it.

Maybe another treen of wetness and swallowing? Each time, the sliver grows. It might be close to a tenth now.

My body moves. I know I screamed.

Then I blackout.

*

I come-to to something pressed against my lips, and liquid pours on my tongue and I notice my health’s almost all gone. I try not to swallow because it’s going to fucking hurt. I just know it, but I can’t help it.

I am so fucking thirsty.

The pain doesn’t last this time, and it’s not because I’m unconscious. The liquid coats my throat, soothing it. Then my health grows steadily. It’s past a tenth when the liquid ends and I try to reach for it as the pressure against my lips ends. I want more. So fucking more.

It’s back, and with it more liquid. I swallow eagerly and my health goes up again. Much faster.

Healing. I’m healing. Healing potions.

“Slow down, Dennis,” a man says. “You don’t want to kill yourself choking on this stuff, do you?”

I want to laugh, but that still hurts.

Another bottle, and my health crosses the halfway point.

Opening my eyes is no longer agony.

Brandon’s holding me in a sitting position, moving the empty bottle away.

“You survived your fight,” I manage to croak.

The utter disbelief on his face is replaced by shame, for some reason; then that’s covered up. “Berserk just ran off without explanation. I was going to chase him, but then your health flashed and vanished. Dardanus told me where you were. Saw Xander’s body up there, so I know why he ran.”

I remember the notification; before everything went black.

“I’m sorry I killed him.”

I can’t read his expression. “Don’t worry about that right now. Drink another one so we can get out of here and make sure the others are okay.”

“You okay down there?” Helen calls. “There’s a dead one up here.”

“Dennis is alive,” Brandon replied, as I drink and more of my health replenishes. “Later,” he adds in a severe tone, and Helen closes her mouth.

My health is close to three quarters, and I feel like I’m bruised all over, but moving doesn’t send me into Lala-land. Brandon holds me when I finally get to my feet.

“Exit’s this way,” he says, motioning to a ladder in the wall.

“Was that always there?”

“Yes,” Dardanus says.

“Wish I’d know that.”

Yep, not entirely out of it. It isn’t like knowing there was a ladder would have changed anything.

Climbing is slow going. Silver offers me her hand and pulls me the last of the way there.

I hug her so tight she squeaks.

It’s probably funny, but I don’t feel like laughing.

I hug Helen just as tight before she gets away.

Brandon doesn’t even try to avoid it.

“It’s okay.” He hugs me back. “You’re alive. That’s what matters.”

“I didn’t think I would.” I manage between sobs.

“Dardanus. Where’s the rest of Xander’s team?” he asks.

“They’re all heading for the edge of the city. Leaving, is my guess.”

“Why would they do that?” Silver asks.

“They know Xander’s dead. He vanished from their team screen when that happened.”

“I’d think his friends would want to avenge him,” Helen says.

Brandon’s laugh is mocking. “Xander never made friends. Associates and people to use. That was him. With him dead, they aren’t getting paid. Without getting paid, they aren’t risking themselves against whatever killed him.”

I tighten my grip on him.

“The only one Dardanus might have to worry about is Rowana. She’s an explorer, and her curiosity might make her come back to figure out what you are. But she doesn’t have the money or the connection Xander had. So I doubt she’ll show up with anything you can’t handle.”

“Maybe we should find a house to rest in?” Silver asks. “Dennis doesn’t look all that good.”

“I’ll make one,” Dardanus says, then I have to let go of Brandon as he guides me to this perfect looking house out of a movie. Green lawn, white picket fences and all.

The living room is fake wood walls and pictures of a fake family, but it’s got a couch and I go for it.

“A bed might be more comfortable,” Dardanus offers.

I shudder at the thought of lying down.

“I’m good.” I drink another healing potion.

“Helen, you and Silver go see if there’s anything to eat,” Brandon instructs.

“I can make whatever you feel like eating.”

“Helen can tell you what to give her.” He exchanges a look with his sister, and she takes Silver with her.

I’m guessing this conversation falls under ‘man talk’.

“How am I still alive?” I start with as Brandon sits opposite me.

“You killed Xander.”

I look away. “I didn’t mean to.”

He chuckles. “I know. Trust me. If there’s one person I believe when he tells me he didn’t intend on killing the man who’d shoved him to his death, it’s you.”

“I was just pissed and thought that if I could wipe that smirk off his face, it would be worth it.” I can’t grin when I add. “It worked too.” The satisfaction I felt then no longer exists, knowing what ultimately happened.

“My guess is that somewhere along the arrows you shot into him, you managed a critical hit. It’s what explains that one.” He taps where his heart is, and I look away again.

“Must have.”

“Do me a favor and check.”

I look at him in horror. “He’s already dead, Brandon. I don’t need to—”

“I think you do.”

“That’s macabre. It’s like going over a corpse and noting all the hits and…I don’t know. Celebrating them?”

This time his laugh is bitter. “There’s no celebrating here, Dennis. But you need to look at your combat log.” It’s the somber tone that makes me obey.

You have hit Alexander Pope

3 points of damage

You have hit Alexander Pope

1 points of damage

You have hit Alexander Pope

5 points of damage

You have hit Alexander Pope

1 points of damage

You have hit Alexander Pope

2 points of damage

It goes on for a few more, then is the one Brandon wants me to see, for some reason.

You have hit Alexander Pope, Critical hit

5 points of damage, 26 times multiplier, for Critical hit, 13 times multiplier for vital are hit.

The next one I saw, even with my combat logs minimized.

You have killed Alexander Pope

But it’s those that follow that have me staring.

You have gained a level. You are now level 16

You have 4 skill points available. You have 0 spell points available. You have 1 attribute points available. You have 1 ability points available

Experience required to reach your next level: 40,053

You have gained a level. You are now level 17

You have 7 skill points available. You have 0 spell points available. You have 2 attribute points available. You have 2 ability points available

Experience required to reach your next level: 42,419

You have gained a level. You are now level 18

You have 10 skill points available. You have 0 spell points available. You have 3 attribute points available. You have 3 ability points available

Experience required to reach your next level: 44,785

You have gained a level. You are now level 19

You have 13 skill points available. You have 0 spell points available. You have 4 attribute points available. You have 4 ability points available

Experience required to reach your next level: 22,393

“How is that possible?” I ask him.

“You’ve just been let on, in the most horrible way possible, into one of the system’s secret. We, people, are worth so fucking much experience it’s a miracle we were able to outlaw murder before we wiped ourselves off.”

“No. There’s no way the system does that.”

He raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t have to say anything. The evidence is still floating before my eyes. I dismiss it.

“My guess is that those four levels added just enough hit points for you to survive the fall.” He whispers something that sounds a lot like ‘unfortunately,’ to me. I can’t have heard that correctly.

“Lucky me.”

The bitterness in his, “Yeah,” is impossible to miss. “This can’t happen again, Dennis.”

“Of course, it’s never happening again. I didn’t want this to happen in the first place. I’m not a murderer.”

“I know.” When he smiles, it seems genuine. “I’m just saying that you need to be careful, that’s all.”

“Trust me, I will.”

He nods and stands. “Come on, let’s go see what’s to eat.”

The food on the dining table is ordinary looking, sort of like the house. Fortunately, it lacks the fakeness.

“Brandon, we need to talk,” Helen tells him, and he sighs in resignation, then follows her.

“Are you okay?” Silver asks, as I take a plate and cut a square of shepherd’s pie.

“I’m good.” I push the image of Xander’s body out of my mind with a reminder that I didn’t set out to do that. That if Xander hadn’t come after me, he’d still be alive. That he started it, with his stupid obsession with Aaron’s journal. With needing to get his way. That kind of thinking got him dead.

It’s not my fault it was at my hand.

The food doesn’t taste as good as I think it should, but I don’t comment. Maybe Dardanus hasn’t had to make it for people in so long he’s forgotten what it should taste like.

Not being able to make-out what Helen’s saying makes it easier to ignore the shouting taking place outside. But it’s clear Brandon is in trouble for some reason.

Maybe she doesn’t need a reason to be pissed at him.

“I am so glad it never got that bad between me and my brothers,” Silver says.

“Only child, so that’s never been something I thought about.” I doubt dad would have let us scream at each other. He’d be too scared one of us might get hurt.

“Are you okay, Dennis?” she asks, and I swallow the annoyance.

“I’m fine.” I repeat in a calm tone.

It’s not my fault.

Xander basically brought this on himself, with being an asshole and using people. Using money to make people do what he wanted and thinking it was enough to take anything he wanted.

It’s his own damned fault, not mine.

Fuck, the world’s probably better off without him in it.

I’ve cleared my plate and ate a slice of apple pie by the time Helen and Brandon returns. He looks like she took a verbal whip to him. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him look this subdued before.

The rest of the meal takes place in utter silence.

Not sure why? I mean, I’m busy eating, but we basically won. We saved Dardanus from Xander and survived the encounter. I even got a bunch of levels out of it. This should be a celebration meal. Not whatever they’re making it.

Somehow, the food tastes better as I continue eating.

*

I sit to a strangled scream, fighting off Xander as he tries to strangle me. For a second, everything’s wrong. My room’s not this dark. My bed, not this large. There’s no reason for Xander to want to murder me in my dreams.

Then I know I’m in a house Dardanus made so we could rest after saving him. That I killed Xander. That it’s why he wants revenge in my dreams.

It’s not my fault, I repeat to myself, hugging a pillow and crying. He brought it on himself. I’m still telling myself that as I finally fall asleep again.

*

“What’s the plan?” I ask, digging into the pancakes with abandon. The syrup’s off, but I figure it’s because Dardanus’s never experience the real stuff. The only reason I have it regularly is that Base got a bottle of the real stuff early in his days as Court. A Trader from a town north of Montreal. He told me the name, but it didn’t stick. They make it in the spring and it is worth its weight in gold. Grandpa Louis talked the trader into setting up his cart within Base since it was the center of town.

It let Base make a copy of everything he had.

He didn’t flood the market. He’d never do that, he assured me, it would be unethical. He doesn’t even make it available to the rest of the town. But there’s nothing wrong with us enjoying true maple syrup once in a while.

“Do we have a reason to stay?” Brandon replies. “Now that Dardanus is safe.”

“The food’s an incentive,” Silver says, and I chuckle.

“I won’t disagree with that,” Helen says, “but Dennis does have a quest to complete, now that he’s free of Xander.”

His own fucking fault.

He’s the reason he died. Not me.

And we’re all better off without him.

I focus on keeping my breathing steady and eating.

“Yeah,” I finally manage in what I’m confident is a normal tone. “It’d be nice to stay and rest, but Aaron’s family needs to know what happened to him.”

“Are you going to be okay on your own?” Brandon asks, and I stare at him. Consideration? What the fuck happened to him?

Dardanus chuckles. “I’ve managed for decades. I’ll be fine. And if the occasional explorer drops by, well, I’ll just refine my act as a ruin.”

He should have people here, I almost tell him. He should make himself a town, a real one. I don’t think he should be alone, but who I am to tell him what he should be.

I’m just a murderer.

His fucking fault.

And it was self-defense. He tried murdering me first.

“I’m going to enjoy one last shower,” Brandon says, “then I’m going to be ready to go.”

“I’ll have travel supplies ready for all of you by then,” Dardanus says.

*

My shower’s long. I start scrubbing myself and can’t seem to stop. My skin’s raw red when Brandon calls to ask if I’d drowned. Dardanus has a new set of clothing for me when I exit the shower. Pants made of thick fabric with a lot of pockets. Each could only hold one stack of one item, but there are almost two treen of them.

The shirt’s comfortable, instead of solid, but the jacket is the same material as the pants. It too with so many pockets I’m not sure I’ll need my personal inventory anymore.

It has a comfortable weight to it that makes the idea of trekking through the wilderness less worrisome.

In the living room, large backpacks waited for us. Well, as the last one done, one is left by the table. The others already have theirs on their back.

It’s only once I put it on that I notice the bow and the quiver on the table.

“Think of them as a thank you gift for protecting me,” Dardanus says when I don’t reach for them.

For the murder weapon.

Not my fucking fault!

What is with me and this need to guilt myself over surviving a murder attempt and making my would be murderer pay for it?

How many other people had Xander hurt? Killed? It wasn’t like he lost any sleep over the pain he inflicted; I’m sure of that.

“Thank you.”

I even manage to keep my hands from shaking as I pick them up and equip them.

There.

I’m fine.

I look at the others, and Brandon switches into his combat attire. Which isn’t all that different from his trekking one, but when he raises his fists. They are covered in the gloves Dardanus made for him. Then he’s back into his trekking clothing.

I feel better about knowing we all got something.

I shouldn’t be singled out with a reward for murdering someone.

I was justified!

“Be well, Dardanus,” I say as I leave the house. I want to add that I hope to see him again, but I won’t come back. Once I get back home, I am never leaving again.