Second Chance

Let’s take a moment to talk about morality, specifically, how it relates to language. We all know lying is wrong, and purposefully giving out misleading information is practically lying. Therefore, we can say that purposefully giving out misleading information to create a false narrative is a bad thing. And as a person of high moral character I’d never do anything to damage my reputation in such a way. While I may seem to be an unreliable narrator, I can promise all inconsistencies are unintentional and absolutely not my fault.

But.

But.

BUT.

Language isn’t a perfect system, you know? The mind and the world it interprets are limitless. Languages are not. There are only so many words out there, so it’s only natural, unavoidable even, that situations will arise where the correct word doesn’t exist. Even someone as verbose, well read, and of perfectly average height such as myself will occasionally find herself at a loss. This is simply the reality of the spoken word’s attempt to mimic the voice of the soul.

What is a narrator to do in those situations? The only reasonable option is to use the best fitting words they can. That may make things seem slightly misleading, but there’s nothing to be done about it. If such a situation were to come to fruition it wouldn’t be right to hold it against anyone. I can be trusted on that, as I’m a person of extremely high moral character.

Anyway.

I was having a date with Eris, walking through the barren land that separated the forest and village.

The uneven and rocky terrain made it impossible for any large vegetation to grow. The villagers couldn’t even grow any of their precious crops on this side of the village. Although it’s difficult to say if they’d farm here even if they could. Lately it seems like they’ll go to any length to avoid approaching the forest.

None of that matters though. My point was supposed to be that we had a clear view of the sky and stars while on our date.

Perfectly romantic. One could even call it a perfectly romantic date. I wouldn’t blame them if they did. Nay, those courageous souls should be rewarded.

“The moons sure are beautiful tonight.” This was my first, and possibly only, time alone with Eris. I needed to play it cool. Once I turned back into a human I’d be lacking a defining characteristic to draw her in. I mean, I’d still be a super beauty that’s also really cool and smart, but without the whole undead thing to fall back on I’d lose my main character status.

“There’s something wrong with that forest.” Rather than looking up, Eris continued to scan the tree line of the forbidden forest.

“Ah, yes, it seems I’ve been completely ignored.”

“I’ve been offering prayers to the spirit that should be watching over the forest, but I’ve yet to receive any blessing.”

“You can have my blessing!”

“What? Are you an idiot? Ah, sorry. I already know the answer to that.”

“I wasn’t ignored this time, but of course it was an insult.” And she didn’t give me a chance to quip back! Without the quips my character will wither away into nothing. They’re all I’ve got at this point.

“Are you an idiot?”

“You’re giving me a second chance?” I’m not sure this is the type of kindness I want.

“Sorry, I misspoke and put the words out of order. You are an idiot.”

“No one misspeaks in such a convenient way!” Both were insults anyway.

“You shouldn’t get so worked up. I gave you a chance for one of your precious quips.”

“At the cost of my self-esteem.” I’m not sure how much I have left to trade away.

“Besides, I set you up a while ago and you let it drop flat.”

“What? When?”

“I said, ‘this is pointless,’ right as I stabbed you through the throat. You should have said, ‘your arrow definitely isn’t!’”

“We’re going back that far?” My throat was ripped open, I couldn’t talk anyway.

“That’s the level of quip I expect from you.”

“Was that a compliment?” I can’t risk forgetting this. I’d need to buy a journal, and then learn to write.

“No, it was my fault for putting too much pressure on you. I figured since you were completely useless in every other parameter you’d at least have high level quips, but that was short sighted of me. You are a rare, one in a million, completely useless person.”

“Forget the journal!”

“It must be difficult, being you.” Despite her words you’d have to look hard to find any concern in her tone.

“Don’t talk like I’ve finally lost it!”

“There was a point in which you still had it?”

“Why is that the first line so far where you’ve sounded honestly surprised?”

“What did you expect? You started this conversation like a duo-lunatic talking about two moons. I’m not sure what fantasy you’ve been living in, there’s only one moon.” She needs to be careful with using Latin wordplay like that. We’ll raise too many questions on what language we’re supposedly speaking.

“You’re pointing that out too late! If you’d have brought it up straight away I’d have told you I was talking about the moons reflected in your eyes. It was going to be a great pickup line.”

“You know, I wonder what’s lower, your Intelligence or Charisma stat.”

“Don’t feel the need to wonder.”

“INT: 7, CHA: 6.” Too basic! And what happened to wondering?

“Wait, that’s actually not bad.”

“All of my stats are at 75.”

“The scale was out of 81?”

“What? Why would you think that? The scale is out of fifty.”

“That makes my stats slightly better, but I feel even worse.” The difference between us is too large.

“It’s insurmountable. That’s the first sensible thing you’ve said.” Stop casually responding to my inner monologue. Am I really that easy to read?

“I can’t be happy about a backhanded compliment like that.”

“Backhanded? I would never. My attacks are always direct.”

So she says, but I recall getting stabbed from behind.

“Hey, Eris, I just thought about something. You’re a ranger, right? Then why did you stab me with the arrow?”

“Hmm? Isn’t that obvious? Hurting you is fun.”

“Let’s overlook your sadism for a second. I was asking why you didn’t shoot the arrow from your bow.”

“I’m terrible with a bow.” What happened to her stats?

“Switch classes!”

“Never.”

“Then practice!”

“It won’t make a difference. No amount of practice can help me. Is that what you wanted to hear? Did you want to bask in the splendor of listening to me admit my biggest shame? Does my embarrassment fuel your will to live? Go ahead. Revel in the fact that I can’t use a bow to end a life.”

“I’m pretty sure the expression is ‘to save my life,’ but let’s just ignore that for now. Your words and attitude aren’t matching up.”

“I’m aware that I make a terrible ranger, but that was my only choice. I’m a wood elf. No one would take a wood elf seriously if they didn’t have a bow on their back.”

“Does anyone other than Sanson take a ranger that can’t use a bow seriously?”

“Surprisingly not.”

“The only surprising thing here is you!”

“It might not make sense to someone like you, but I’m just accepting who I am. A wood elf, a ranger, terrible with a bow, and a dark elf. That’s who I am, no point in trying to fight it.”

Someone like me? A person desperately clinging to something they’re not. As ridiculous as it seemed, Eris might have been right.

“Besides, I have special arrows made of solid iron. They’re pretty much just skinny daggers.”

“I take it all back, just switch classes!”

The rest of the trip passed in relative silence. Whether it was a result of having nothing interesting to talk about or due to us trying to approach the village unnoticed is something I’d rather not reveal.

The third option I don’t even want to bring up is that Eris ignored all of my conversation starters from that point on.

Either way, we made it to the outskirts of the village without drawing any attention. The dirt pathways they used as streets were empty, and wooden covers were blocking most of the windows. Probably a result of my last few visits. That’s the problem with these small towns. So uninviting to new people.

“The graveyard isn’t much further.” I spoke to Eris for the first time in a while, adding that we should be able to dig up one of the fresh bodies.

Unfortunately this hadn’t just been a romantic stroll through the night. We were on the most extreme version of a grave robbing mission. Before going to see Rakki, Sanson filled me in on the three things we’d need to complete the ritual.

First was a magic user, someone who could supply the vast amounts of magic this ritual required. Sanson was concerned someone like that was going to be difficult to come by, but fortunately Rakki agreed without any trouble. The second thing we’d need was a body. The ritual seemed to work on the same principles as alchemy. Creating a human body requires something in return, and the easiest sacrifice is another human body. A fresh one worked best. An old, decaying body would already be missing too much. It wouldn’t make a fitting sacrifice. Conveniently enough, the village just went through a rough spot resulting in three fatalities.

The third was my soul. It’s impossible to get around, everyone needs one. And it sounds hard to obtain, but getting mine back wasn’t much trouble. I actually managed to recover it before going on this mission. . . This date with Eris.

“No, there won’t be any fresh bodies at the graveyard, or anywhere else for that matter.”

“Why not? I didn’t want to bring this up, but I killed a few people the other day.” Sanson also said someone died in a way completely unrelated to me.

“They won’t bury them. This is something an inhuman like you and a simple-minded person like Sanson wouldn’t realize, but these people are afraid. The body of one of their own has been possessed and become an undead. They’re not keeping any more bodies. They’ve already burned them. They’ll probably burn every corpse for the next few generations.”

“Then why did we come here?” This was an opportune time for a joke, but even I could tell that mood had passed.

“To get a body.”

“You just said it yourself, they burnt them. The only bodies are still-”

I realized what she intended. Why she agreed to help me with such an easy task.

“Anyone from this village you don’t like?”

Definitely a dark elf.