Rewards and Sacrifices

I stepped forward, and the last bits of my leg crumbled to loose stones beneath me. I tried moving my arms, but those were broken apart by the Duskmaw, too.

I can’t move at all? Damn it, why now! I need mana to heal the cracks, but I’m… my vision's getting blurry. It’s just like when I fought the spider boss in the cave. I feel beat…

As what little vision I had doubled, an almost groggy mist clouded my thoughts. It didn’t seem like pain or anything, but it happened whenever I was in this state. I guess the best way to categorise it was mana fatigue.

Rorick needs me… I can’t just…stay here! I struggled and shifted my weight, but nothing came of it. I need MP to recover my legs or arms.

Using my Perception skill, I searched in every crevice of the area around me for some magic source. It didn’t take long for the foul presence of a dark source of black mana to emanate around me. It was close by, actually, right on top of me.

It was the Duskmaws' corpse, the one I lay on. I had never tried drawing mana from a living being before–previously living– but I didn’t have time to be picky. I focused on the faint, yet ominous energy that radiated from its body. It felt disgusting, but it was energy nonetheless.

It slowly pulled towards me and my mental tug on it tightened. I felt the orb on my chest drag the energy into it. My mana slowly rose.

{You have gained the skill <Minor Mana Regeneration>}

{You have gained the skill <Minor Health Regeneration>}

Didn’t I already have regeneration? Why is this only appearing now? Whatever, I don’t have time to worry about that now. I have to hurry back!

The loose stones drew towards me and brought the shape of my arms and legs back to their cracked shape. The bloodied sight of stained flowers came to light as my head reformed. Thanks to the fight, most of the flowers around me were cinged or completely crushed, but there was a large patch or two of them that were still fine. I picked the flowers and bunched them together in my hands and rushed back.

Usually, I was slow enough, but in my state, the journey home was bound to take more than a day.

****

Within the city of Tal’horde, two men dressed in white flowing robes stood side by side. Their clothing was draped in long, flowing folds that caught at every subtle breeze that passed. A golden sash at their waists that contrasted elegantly against the common red.

“What is taking him so long?” One of the men barked. He rubbed the length of his thick, black beard with impatient strokes. “I swear…”

The other man with wheat coloured skin parted his lips from the pipe in his hand, “What else should we expect from… common-born, like him.” He gave a glance at the staircase behind them, where another man approached.

He wore solid black robes and a white sash along his waist, worn through and not nearly as well kept as the other two. He had tanned skin and hair darker than his garbs, but golden irises that glanced between the two.

“Apologies, friends– I had some important business to attend to.” He rushed to their sides.

“As if our business is not as important?” The man with the pipe added.

“I-I didn’t mean anything of the sort, Malco!” He lowered his head. “I only meant–”

“Ugh, enough of this. Get on with it, Midas! What is it that you summoned us here for? The heat is bad enough without the smell of the commoners.” He waved a hand in front of his nose, disgusted.

“Well, what I have to say will be in both of your best interests.” Excitement crossed his face in the form of an arrogant smile.

“This again?” One of the men sighed.

“Must we be subjected to your fairy tale dreams every free moment?”

Midas kept his feelings hidden behind a smile, grinding his teeth, he tried desperately not to let it show. His eyes twitched. Just before his mask could break, the two men sat down against the rim of a statue's base, as if it were a chair.

“You have three minutes.”

“That’s generous. Better hurry, boy.” The man with the beard said, his eyes not meeting Midas’.

Midas collected his breath and gestured to the bustling streets that ended at the foot of the stairs. Street vendors and groups of commoners connected at nearly every corner under the intense heat of the crimson sun.

“My friends, I’m sure you’ve realised it by now, but it’s time we cut ties with the border villages. The coin we’ll save will make Tal’horde, no, the entire continent of Jeddan an unshakable force!”

One of the men scoffed, his eyes sharp on Midas. “What do you suggest we do about those villagers and their allies further north? Let them spread insubordination to us, the lords of those lands? I think not.” His tone turned condescending, like that of a teacher against their student.

“Loyalty is bought, Sahlim, not earned.” Midas returned with a glare. “Besides, we’d be cutting our ties with the lands against ours. Once that is done, we can claim independence and take our rightful seat on the Council of Nations–”

Both men stood from their seats and in a fit of rage, their voices broke over Midas’.

“Enough of this! We stand to lose everything if we follow your poisonous words, Midas. Your dreams are too large, but your plan would crumble like the sands of Tal’horde’s desserts against the Northern Kingdom. Maybe it was a mistake to allow you nobility after all.”

“Agreed. You talk about ruling the continent, but it is our villages you would sacrifice, our resources wasted! You have no right here, boy. Now, get out of our faces before we feed you to treat you like the other peasants.” Sahlims face twisted with anger.

Midas kept his head lowered as the two noblemen walked off, without another word. His fists gripped at his side as they ascended the stairs.

“Fine then… I’ll do it myself.”