You Don't Understand Me At All

"Do they say we passed the test at least?"

"Quite the opposite." He handed me a letter from the bedside table. "Have a read."

Sanctions, tax hikes, tithe increases, tariffs?! That last one was brutal. Were our products really so threatening that the Capital had to crush East Gate's innovation?

No. This was the conspiracy again—the same shadowy forces whose motivations we still knew nothing about beyond wanting East Gate to disappear.

"Do you think we caused this?"

"Gods no. The letter came by carrier pigeon this morning while you were away." Calilah sighed. "Your team told me everything. I'm hoping the Timecapsule prosecutors will look beyond circumstantial evidence."

"Timecapsule…?"

"Independent prosecutors kept in temporal suspension, only released for cases normal authorities can't solve. It prevents political bias—they're the only thing standing between a fair trial and East Gate's destruction."

"So what's the plan now?"

"Since adventuring is legal for you now, you, by rights, should leave first thing tomorrow." He paused.

“I can feel a ‘but’ coming…” I ventured.

"You must stay here and recover.”

…

“You’re joking.”

“You need rest, Cotter.”

I sighed. “Resting is for people who can afford to rest. I am sorry for seemingly having more urgency to save your Kingdom than its Duke do—”

“Don’t make assumptions with me. It pisses me off,” Calilah shot back. “If I can't solve this conspiracy with my authority and resources, then I don't deserve my title. We have leads, arrested people linked to the guard conspiracy, but they're just hired muscle paid by anonymous sources. Still better than nothing."

"Duke, We’ll be fine—"

"I've watched you push yourself beyond your limits for months. You think I don’t know you’ve been doing side gigs? Your employers only talk about your work ethic every second week or so! You're exhausted, your team is exhausted, and if I keep letting children fight my battles, someone's going to get killed." He ran a hand through his hair.

“I chose to put in those hours.”

"Besides the point. Your blood would be on my hands."

"But we have a lead!" I protested. "The Mountain Elves—Engel's people. Their sixth-year diplomatic gathering is happening in just weeks. If we miss this window—"

"Cotter." His tone cut through my desperation. "From what you described, Mountain Elves are leagues beyond us technologically. Their weakest apprentice could probably dismantle our entire group without breaking a sweat. You think showing up exhausted and underprepared is going to impress them?"

"We can't just sit here while East Gate burns!"

"And we can't throw away our one real asset because you're too stubborn to rest!" Calilah's voice rose, then caught himself. He lowered it, but the frustration remained. "You're making the same mistake every failed leader makes. Sometimes the smartest thing you can do is stop."

"The conspiracy won't wait for us to feel ready—"

"And the conspiracy won't be solved by four kids collapsing from exhaustion in the middle of enemy territory!" He stepped closer. "Cotter, I speak from experience, remember? I charged into solving this conspiracy on my end, and I inadvertently starved a whole orphanage because of it. I was a stupid kid. I know what that feeling of… uselessness feels like. You can’t allow it to control you too."

"DUKE!"

A servant rushed toward us. I was getting tired of learning about crises through random staff members.

"Riots in the streets! A massive brawl involving dozens of people!"

Calilah sighed as we moved to the window overlooking East Gate's market district. Sure enough, chaos had erupted below.

"Probably fallout from the Adventurer exam incident," Calilah muttered. "I'll have to handle this, Cotter.”

“Please, we are partially responsible for this too.”

“Don't interfere. That’s a command. And if you do…"

But it was only a matter of time before these angry people traced the "cheating adventurers" back to the orphanage.

“I will have you arrested,” Calilah finished, lips trembling as he said it.

My mouth hung wide open as he and the servant left the room.

We stuck with each other through thick and thin, and now… now he thinks he just gets to do that to me?

As I slumped back into the palace infirmary bed, my mind raced. Engel's people—the Mountain Elves—were our best shot at solving the root cause of this mess. They either orchestrated or sold their technology to the conspirators. Either way, they are our most solid lead.

The problem? Their sixth-year anniversary celebration was happening this week. The one time every sixth year when they opened their gates.

Miss this window, and we'd be locked out for another six years.

Engel kept saying reaching her people was impossible, but I refused to accept that. We had to keep pushing because if you believe in yourself and act like you've already won, the timeline just has to catch up.

\\

The rest of the gang were waiting outside the palace, bless them.

Py Pir couldn’t resist getting some pull-ups in, it seems. She was going ham on that tree branch.

“Look. Doofus is back.” I recognize that bored-but-not-really tone anywhere.

I turned to see Daisy also waiting, just underneath the tree. Daisy looked straight at me, her cheeks being a very, very prominent shade of red.

“I’d do it again by the way, Daisy,” I said. “Just so you feel worse.”

“W-Well, I won’t let you!”

Just as expected, my reverse psychology worked wonders in riling her up!

“He’s back?” Py Pir let go of the poor tree, who snapped back into place after the weight put upon it suddenly disappeared. “Finally. We needed to celebrate graduating the exam hours ago!”

Engel’s eyes glittered. “You mean that hilltop bakery?”

“Only the one I’d been begging for for the past two years in just about every conversation related to food, yes! The very same,” Py Pir cried.

That’s right. The plan was to head to a so-called hilltop bakery in the wilderness. Apparently the owner was some eccentric elf who'd been alive for thousands of years.

"I can't wait to try authentic elven pastries!" Py Pir practically bounced as she spoke. "Do you think she'll have honey cakes? I've read about those in the ancient texts!"

Even Yuree-El seemed animated. “I might be able to taste food that garnished isn’t some combination of salt and pepper, then…”

This talk should have brought some measure of peace within me, but for some reason, I felt the opposite.

There is no rest for people like us, not really.

Here I was, in a fantasy world, supposedly living my dreams, and I was still the kid from the shack. Still the one who couldn't afford to stop, couldn't afford to be normal.

And if I stopped now, and didn’t meet the Mountain Elves, the ones implicated in orchestrating this conspiracy…

How many times would I throw myself at problems that weren't mine to solve? In another reality, I was probably still in that cramped apartment with Mom, drawing manga panels late into the night while she worked double shifts.

‘Oh no, I followed my dreams and we suffered for it!’ I'd probably be saying.

But Mom would just smile and tell me I was enough. That being happy was enough. That I didn't need to save the world to justify taking up space in it.

Except I couldn't believe that. I never could.

"You guys go ahead," I said quietly. "I need to prepare for tomorrow."

"Cotter?" Py Pir's excitement dimmed. "You're not coming?"

"The Mountain Elves won't wait. That gathering is our only shot."

"The Duke said to rest—"

"The Duke doesn't understand." I was already turning away. "Go enjoy your pastries."

Engel's voice was softer than usual. "Cotter... I have made peace with never seeing my mother and sister again."

"I concur with her." Yuree-El took a step forward. "Cotter, forget it. We are exhausted, and we are not good for anyone right now. We are unable to send a backup from East Gate out there either. And the Mountain Elves could likely just wipe us out if they are half as strong as Engel claims.

"Surely they are not that comically evil. Even then, we have made it this far. We can handle—"

"We can barely handle what's in front of us," Yuree-El countered.

But even as she protested, I could see that look creeping into her eyes.

"Nothing we say can convince you, huh?" Yuree-El sighed.

“But he has a point,” Py Pir admitted. “What if they were behind everything? Not that it is likely, but it is not entirely out of the possibility. We don’t even have to engage them, just watch from a distance. I say we go.”

“Cotter’s number one cheerleader agrees with him, surprise, surprise…”

Only Daisy remained silent as she watched us with growing unease.

"This isn't right," she said just out of earshot. My ears picked it up though. And she knew it. “Even though we are in the finishing chapters of our story, you still aren’t satisfied. You never stop, Cotter. You don’t know how.”

Daisy was deluded in thinking we could rest.

It didn’t matter to me. That was Daisy’s problem, not mine, that she wants to remain scared all her life. If she was comfortable with mediocrity and taking what the world dishes out all the time, then that’s her call. She can decide whether she wants to come or not.

And from her body language… Daisy looked like she was coming anyway.