Richard the Hero

Tamarin set her walking stick next to the bed. She gestured and whispered a few inaudible phrases to it, and the tip of the cane glowed with warm green colors.

“Let’s see how your wounds are healing.”

The bandages around Lavenza’s midsection unfurled on their own. Then they paused, just at the same time that Tamarin looked back at Richard and remembered that he existed. She walked over to him and nudged him with stubby toes.

“Get out,” she snapped. “Get out!”

“What have I even done?” Richard moaned, still clutching the back of his head.

“He can stay,” Lavenza said. “I don’t mind.”

“Lavenza,” Tamarin sighed. “This is why this excuse for a man gets the wrong idea.”

“I doubt there’s anything erotic about the sight of burns and blood, Tamarin.”

“That’s because you have no imagination, human. You know, goblin men loved to brand their—”

“My wounds,” Lavenza intervened. “You were tending to them?”

Tamarin rolled her eyes. With another wave of her hand, the rest of the bandages fell away. The glow of the goblin’s walking stick intensified. Beneath a layer of gauze, Lavenza spotted sections of her ribs still blackened by burns. She also saw how the magic radiating from Tamarin’s walking stick revitalized dead skin and cleansed the bloodiest bits of her body of char.

“It’s healing,” Tamarin muttered. “Slowly, but it’s healing. You don’t look half bad, actually. I’m keen on not fixing some of the milder bits. Maybe I’ll give you some rough stitches. You’d look good with a battle scar or two.”

“Fine,” Lavenza winced, “but how long will it be before I can set out again?”

Tamarin glowered at the suggestion. Her cheery disposition all of a sudden made a sharp turn towards a bitter, less accommodating leer.

“You can set out right now if you want,” she shrugged.

“Tam!” Richard gasped. “You can’t be serious.”

“Of course I am,” the goblin snorted. “She and Deme appear out of nowhere, almost crush me with their combined weight. We take shelter in the nearest empty village, suspend all of our adventuring just for her, and I spend all of five nights patching her up. You think I haven’t done a good job, Richard? She can depart now, and we can go our separate ways, just like wants. A few stitches will come undone, but I’m sure she can spin her own special Menuan cures. She’s so talented, this apostate.”

“You can speak your mind, Tamarin,” Lavenza muttered.

“A simple thank you would have sufficed, I think!” the goblin rested her hands on her staff. “Pardon this old shaman for chastising the recently wounded, but it’s only been a few moments and you’re already thinking of leaving us? Are we that inconvenient to you? Or we not worth the courtesy of more than a few pleasantries before you bid us farewell for the last time?”

“It was Deme’s choice to come here, actually,” Lavenza said. “My magic took us to the person she thought of first. That took us here. To you. I would not have come here otherwise.”

“How thoughtful of you,” Tamarin rolled her eyes, “to inform us you had no intention of seeing us before we are all petrified before the Endire.”

“I’ve imposed on your hospitality enough as it is,” Lavenza replied. “I’m sure the Hero’s Party has more important places to be.”

“Oh fuck you,” Tamarin spat. “If Deme hadn’t looked so pitiful and begged me for help, maybe I would have just left you to rot on the road. You can do whatever you want, apostate.”

Tamarin snatched her walking stick from the bedside and stormed out of the house, taking her healing magic with her. Fresh dlood dripped out of half treated burns. Lavenza picked up her loose bandages and draped them over her body.

Richard, having long recovered from the pain, picked himself off the floor.

“You know, you didn’t have to be like that with her,” he said. “People won’t understand your motivations unless you tell them, Lavenza.”

“Who says I want them to understand,” she murmured.

“Why not? Because we’ll all be dead by the end of the year anyway?” Richard mocked.

Richard wasn’t a mind reader. He had no proclivity for such magic. He had asked Lavenza to teach him spells once when they first crossed paths as adventurer and apostate, and Lavenza had never seen someone so bereft of mana proficiency before. Perhaps that was why the Endire had bestowed upon him, in spite of his bland, commonplace appearance, the speed and strength of a legendary warrior, a hero.

Empress Seline had seen it immediately when she met him. It was one of the reasons she had named him the leader of the last Hero’s Party, who would embark to the east on one final quest. It took Lavenza more time to realize why Seline was drawn to him, and why Richard bothered her so.

It was simple. Richard was gifted with the even rarer talent of being frustratingly amenable and understanding. It was difficult for Lavenza to rebuff him, even when she deployed her most successful tactics that she used with everyone else.

“Yes,” Lavenza said. “It’s because we’ll all be dead. Petrified, more accurately.”

“Liar,” Richard laughed. “Well, not about the dying part, but certainly about it being the reason.”

“Enlighten me then, if you know me so well.”

Richard strolled to the side of the bed. Something about his approach disarmed her. He seemed harmless, like any malice or malcontent had been left behind when he entered the house. He sat by Lavenza’s side. His hands at first, almost by instinct, reached for hers as a gesture of comfort, but Richard drew himself back and instead motioned with his eyes to the wounds on Lavenza’s body, her arms, her shoulder, her face.

“Well, answer me this,” he said. “Who did this to you?”

“Why?” Lavenza shrugged. “Looking to avenge me?”

“I don’t know anyone in Aparthia who can best Lavenza in a duel of magic but this,” Richard shook his head, “this was not a duel. Someone beat you within an inch of your life. They just happened to use magic to do it.”

“Thanks for telling me,” she muttered, “and don’t let Faye hear the first part out loud.”

“That’s another thing you misunderstand. Faye agrees with me, just so you know. She’s too proud to admit it to you. Call it a feature of her race,” Richard said, “and don’t dodge the question, Lavenza. I know you know who did this to you.”

“It wouldn’t change anything,” Lavenza shook her head.

“If it doesn’t change anything, then just tell me.”

“Whatever you say,” Lavenza sighed. “It was Eifen.”

“Wait. Your monastery’s old headmistress?” Richard raised an eyebrow. “She seems a bit too old to be trying to kill you.”

“I don’t know. I’m not sure what’s going on. Maybe you can figure it out.”

“And that’s why you want to leave,” Richard said. “You think she’ll come after all of us too.”

“Deme and I are headed for the Whispering Chamber,” Lavenza replied. “You and your party are headed elsewhere. I don’t see why my troubles should also be yours. Don’t you have a quest to complete?”

“Lavenza,” Richard laughed and shook his head, “the Whispering Chamber sits at the center of Aparthia. Between here and there, you’re looking at hundreds of miles of the Abyss. Deme will not overlook the chance to scour the depths for Rafta, and we’re quite keen on dungeon delving ourselves.”

“And where is here, exactly?” Lavenza asked. “You’re also traversing the Abyss?”

“We’re a week’s ride from the imperial border, a few day’s walk to the closest dungeon,” Richard answered. “The Demon King is rumored to be somewhere deep inside, along with the rest of his legions. So, that’s where we’re headed. If we’re both journeying down there, Lavenza, you don’t think it’d be safer if we all traveled together?”

He wasn’t entirely wrong. Richard always knew how to worm his way into a reasonable argument.

“…Eifen is my problem, Richard,” Lavenza said. “I can’t let everyone—”

“Didn’t you say it wouldn’t matter?” Richard asked. “Weren’t we all going to die in the end anyway? Does it matter if it’s by petrification or by the hands of a crazy old headmistress?”

Lavenza had run out of rebuttals.

“Do what you want,” she sighed and rolled back beneath her sheets.

Richard beamed like a child who had won the right to buy any toy of their choice. With victory assured, he rose from the bed and prepared to leave.

“If it means anything to you, Lavenza,” he said at the doorway, “I’m quite happy that we’ve crossed paths again. I’d prefer if you stay. For whatever time that’s left anyway. I’d very much like that.”