A Knocker’s Helmet

“Why… Why are you alive?”

    Once more, another rite of passage had ended, another Knocker had returned from the depths. The only survivor of his group.

    Once more, just like Domiteo before him, the dwarf in front of Beluacor was alive.

“Why you? Why not the others… Tell them.” Beluacor prompts.

    But the Knocker shook his head, he took a step back. Sweat pearled down his face, soon soaking his green beard.

“I see.” Beluacor noted. “You chose to commit the same mistake as we did.”

    And then, he clapped his hands together.

“Then, I shall get their whole attention… and force them to hear me out.”

    As if it was only waiting for his master’s order, the Mimic King suddenly appeared behind the younger Knocker, snatching half of his body from him with his sharp teeth.

    Droplets of blood splattered Beluacor’s cheek. While screams were echoing all around, he closed his eyes.

“That should have been done long ago now. Neither him or I should be alive. Hear me out…” His eyes snapped open, his sclera now all black. “…Now is the time to pay for our crimes!!”

    And, as he outstretched his arms, beasts’ screams echoed through the whole dungeon.

***

    Knock knock.

    He knocks against the door, and waits. For a long time. For nothing to come.

    Tyffeon is about to knock again when the door opens at last.

“Who is it…” A feminine, tired voice asks. Until her grey-blue eyes meet the Daoine Sidhe’s. “…Tyffeon?”

“Yes… That is me.” He confirms, his expression solemn. “Can I come in?”

    The Knocker in the entrance remains dumbfounded for a while before stepping aside, nodding.

    In silence, she leads him to the living room, gesturing for him to take a seat. The inside of her house is tidy, though something hints to Tyffeon that it isn’t the result of a daily routine. In fact, aside from the studded helmet laying on the low table, everything here is covered with dust.

“Here, I brought you some milk.” She returns from the kitchen, giving him a wooden tumbler before sitting down as if taking back her place, where the cushion is already sunken.

    Just before the helmet.

“I wasn’t expecting your return to Toll Dubh before a couple of centuries.”

“Well… Circumstances have evolved to such an extent… It’s not like I could have stayed in Tír-nan-cnocc for any longer.”

    She nods, taking a sip from her glass.

    Tyffeon imitates her, frowning a bit. The milk is almost soured, though he doesn’t say anything about it.

    Instead, he takes a while to observe her. Her stature is more muscular than that of women of the other races. Her features remain appreciatively soft in contrast though, and with her long blond hair she would have been definitely pretty if not for the bags under her eyes.

“He would’ve been glad to see you again. What a shame he can’t greet you himself…”

“Saccharia… I am sorry. If I hadn’t left, if instead I had gone into the depths of the dungeon with Curreo…” He trails off.

“You know that the rite of passage is an individual trial. Even if you had both gone down at the same moment, you would have needed to part ways. That’s the tradition. There’s nothing you need to apologise for, Tyffeon.”

“Still-”

“When he left,” she cuts him off, “I wasn’t peaceful, but at least I reassured myself by keeping in mind that if something happened, he would just need to run. I wanted to believe that his benediction would protect him. Waiting for his return, I ordered this helmet…” Her gaze was glued to it, almost as if she couldn’t see anything else. “The blacksmith made such a good work. The fine silver carvings upon the bronze, it tells the story of his family… You know how important it is for us. He was impatient to receive his own helmet just like any Knocker does once back from the depths. He promised to marry me then and…”

    She shakes her head.

“I am sorry.”

“No…” Tyffeon averts his gaze.

“Greet Beluacor for me. He did a lot for me these past years.”

“I’ll do.”

    And with that, Tyffeon stands up, heading to the door.

    But, before he reaches the threshold of the room, her voice stops him.

“Tyffeon. What is precious to you… try not to lose it.”

    He glances back, not knowing what to say. The unease he feels only deepens when he sees Saccharia curled upon herself, holding the studded helmet against her chest.

    It is all she has left from him.

***

    Thoughtful, I walk back and forth in front of Tyffeon’s door. He spent the whole day isolated, but it was even worse once he returned from his visit to his friend’s fiancée. Since that moment, he has been lost in thoughts. At dinner, he hasn’t even paid attention to my attempts to tease him. The absence of hostility on his part concerns me a lot.

“Do I try to speak to him? But if I knock at his door there’s a non-zero possibility to GET knocked out first. Raahh!!”

    Conflicted as ever, arms crossed, I keep pacing the corridor when the door opens.

    I jump.

    He stares at me.

“Are you going to keep walking in front of my room for the whole night?”

“Oh. Umm… You heard me?”

    He silently sighs. Disappearing from the threshold, my fellow companion returns to his room.

“This!! If he was his usual self, Tyffeon would have bitten me with a ‘A mouse would have been offended to know this was supposed to be as silent as they are.’, at the very least!”

    The door left open hints me though at a possible possibility for me to follow him. I don’t need more to walk in, followed by Awa, coming in a flapping of wings.

    I find him sitting on the edge of his bed, his hands intertwined.

“Is there something you want to talk about?” I try.

    Tyffeon’s room is as he left it decades ago. Toys from his childhood kept in a corner, gifts from his father mostly filling the shelves, in addition to a few souvenirs from their expeditions into the dungeon. Precious stones, a horn obtained from defeating a monster…

    Stepping closer to him, I sit down next to Tyffeon.

“You have merry memories from your childhood, don’t you?” I try again. “Beluacor-”

“I feel like I left no later than yesterday.” He cuts me off, saving me at least from an agonising monologue. “The sound of the picks echoing through Toll Dubh, my father patrolling in the dungeon… all felt the same as before I left for Tír-nan-cnocc. It was foolish of me, but I expected to see the same people I left behind, 77 years ago. But… some of them are now nothing but ghosts.”

    For a moment I consider covering his hand with mine but, for lifespan reasons, I decide against.

“You were close to that Curreo?”

    Instead, I reach out my hand to my pendant, fiddling with it.

“We were the same age, we basically grew up together. …If I had stayed, things might have been different. I made the wrong choice.”

“It’s not your fault! It’s…” I hold back the words. The urge to be honest. “…neither of you could know what would happen.”

    If you had followed him, you would have shared his fate.

    Tyffeon raises his head, turning his gaze at me.

“Have you made choices you regret?” He asks.

    I widen my eyes.

“I… Choices, I don’t know.” I clutch my pendant. “But, well,.. I regret not having been able to protect what was the most important to my eyes. In this world, in the previous… So, I understand what you feel.”

    For a brief moment, his pale green gaze flickers to my pendant.

“Amako-”

    Before he has a chance to formulate any kind of sentence he may have had in mind, the flapping of wings grows louder as Awa has suddenly left her perch to land on his knees.

“Huhh?”

    Turning to face him, the owl hoots at him.

“What…”

“She tries to cheer you up.” I chuckle.

    As Awa tries to get even closer, Tyffeon holds her at bay. Allowing her though to remain on his knees.

“Oh, so cute!”

    Finding the scene endearing, I extend my hand towards him. Maybe he thinks that I aim to pet Awa because he does not react but… instead, it is the top of his head that I brush gently.

    Widening his eyes, Tyffeon turns a sudden glare at me, his expression betraying embarrassment.

“Haah?! What are you doing?” He protests, trapped. I should thank Awa later for that opportunity.

“Yosh, yosh.”

    As he squirms back, Awa ends up flying away, and so I stand up almost at the same moment, sounding a retreat to the door.

“Tomorrow we’ll go to a funny place!” I give Tyffeon a wink.