A Fate Worse Than Death

“You,” said Ilara towards the human. “I’ve saved your life. In exchange, come with me and do me a favor.”

“Uh, sure.” He smiled at her, unbothered by her strange request. Perhaps he would be useful, after all. “Though from my perspective, I saved your life.”

She chose to ignore the second thing he said.

“What can I call you, miss faintly blue-haired half-elf?”

“Ilara Icewind.” She hung her staff on her back and looked away from the human who was taller than her and annoyingly cheerful.

“I’m Alric. So you have an elven name and a human—”

Ilara refused to listen to and engage in unnecessary conversation. She was already tired from dealing with the Orc. At least now she had a backup plan.

Alric, or so he claimed to be, didn’t really look like an adventurer. His low-quality axe looked dull from use and not like an ordinary battleaxe that could be used as a shield and deal crushing blows. He couldn’t really be called a warrior, either. His clothes could barely protect him from the elements, let alone any sort of combat. His hair, a color between orange and brown, was short yet long enough to be called messy. Finally, his skin revealed he received a lot more sun than Ilara was comfortable with.

“So, you’re a logger,” she concluded.

Alric let out a friendly laugh, which repulsed Ilara slightly. “What gave it away?”

“Everything.” But despite her personality and appearances, even if this acquaintance was temporary, or maybe because it was temporary, she didn’t want to appear too rude. “What brings you to the western countryside?”

“There’s not much work given out by adventurers’ guilds nowadays, and I was hoping to find some farm work for the season.”

“Adventurers’ guilds assign logging work?” Ilara raised an eyebrow.

“Yeah! Uh… it’s not uncommon for things to get banged up you know? So I took up logging. See this axe? It’s felled hundreds of—trees.”

Wise. Or well, it was wise for someone whose sole worth appeared to be his muscles. Not a bad use for them, either. But even so, the little interest Ilara showed was returned to her tenfold with a radiant smile. What damaged him into becoming like that?

“So what is this favor you wanted, Ilara?”

“I need you to register as a party with me so I can get my official ranking.”

“That’s it? What about after?”

“There’s no after.” Ilara made sure to set expectations by giving him a cold glance.

“Sure. But answer me this, what would you have done if I didn’t show up then and there?”

With a quick calculation, Ilara made sure she was answering truthfully. “It’s a busy road. Someone would show up eventually. I had enough magic reserves to wait it out.”

Instead of using his words, Alric replied with a warm laughter. That wasn’t the right answer.

Why was he and the orc there when she happened to be attempting to fight slimes? As much as she wanted to convince herself she would’ve been fine, that one human was probably her only way out of that chance encounter. But gratitude was not deserved, not yet at least. It was foolish to believe in coincidences, she had to know more.

“If you could choose something else instead of being a farmer, what would you be?” People’s dreams can say a lot about them, and what they’re worth.

“An adventurer of course, helping others, going from town to town, meeting beautiful—”

Ilara had already tuned him out when he said the word “adventurer”. So he was one of those… But perhaps she could do something for him, too. If he kept being useful, it was worth evaluating the risk and reward of keeping him around longer term, at least for the time being.

Ilara stopped short, making Alric also stop with her. She looked at him, dead serious.

“To test your capability as an adventurer... I want you to extract the essence of four slimes.”

“That’s it?” Alric opened his backpack to show her the essence of multiple slimes already inside. “I was planning on selling these in town for food, but if you want you can—”

“You’ll do.”

Alric looked at her, confused, as she dug through his bag multiple times. They both started walking back towards the Western Mage Academy, but their steps in pleasant silence didn’t last too long.

“Your spells are amazing!” Dreamy-eyed Alric just couldn’t keep quiet.

“Really? Those aren’t even my usual spells.”

“How long did it take you to learn?”

“Years of training,” answered Ilara coldly, masking the pride that she actually felt.

“Do you think I could—”

“No, Alric.”

“It’s a shame…” Alric looked surprisingly disappointed. “I’d love to help others with my power like you do.”

Ilara remained quiet for a few moments, thinking about her own magic, and Alric’s lack of it. “Selflessness is overrated, anyway.”

“You want me to believe a healer like you, who has spent a lifetime learning how to help others, is selfish?”

Ilara stopped and gently pressed her staff on Alric’s chest. “Repulsio.” Alric flew backwards inelegantly, tumbling on the dirt until stopped by a tree. It was interesting that, unlike the Orc, he barely resisted her spell.

Ilara noticed she had torn off a button with her spell. Under his shirt there was a muscular chest which she at least tried to have no reaction to. So there was no armor, either. Falling like that, he couldn’t possibly be an adventurer in disguise.

“Ow, what was that for, Ilara?” Alric, with dirt on his face and scrapes on his hands, tried to catch up to Ilara who had already started walking.

“You were invading my personal space.”

“I wasn’t even—”

“My mental personal space.” But even Ilara felt like she had gone too far, so she tapped Alric’s shoulder with her staff, and healed through any possible damage she had done. “Sanae.”

Distracted by looking at his bruises and scratches being erased by Ilara’s magic as they walked, Alric’s company was a lot more pleasant in silence.

The Mage Academy slowly came into view. It was a boring building made of white stones and other stuff that got in the way of the beautiful mountains, forests, and plains.

“What do you want to do, Ilara, after you graduate?”

“I want to live a comfortable life in the capital, working the least hours possible and enjoying as much food and music as possible.”

Alric erupted into laughter. “That’s not a bad dream to have.”

“Dream?” Ilara looked at him, puzzled. Dream implied a lack of realism, which Ilara had in abundance. But Alric was by default confusing to her, so she concluded that their conversation was incompatible, pointless even. Right as they got to the gates of the Mage Academy, which Alric of course offered to open for her sake, he looked at her with an obnoxious smile.

“You remind me of my little sister, you know?”

That was the man that saved her life. The one she considered her ticket out of that school. Helped. Rescued by a man, almost a boy, who only knew physical strength. Dependent even. That—was a fate worse than death.