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Irwin's Journey chapter 1: It’s never what you want
🕑 Added 2022-11-05 06:23:13 +0000 UTCIrwin ran as fast as his thin, wobbly legs could carry him through town. As much as he tried to dodge the puddles from last night's storm, his feet kept finding them, splashing more and more gunk on his pants.
"No mom, I didn't run," he muttered.
He was mentally preparing himself for the scolding he would get, but it would be worth it. Bronwyn would be back.
"I wonder if he got me a card! Or if he added an upgrade to his own! Maybe a summoning one," he muttered as he dodged around the baker's rickety stone building.
He slammed into something and bounced back, landing on his ass a few inches from a nasty puddle.
"Dammit, you brat! Look where you're going!"
A towering man loomed over him, grinding his teeth as he held a massive bag of flower. An indent on the dust-caked material showed exactly where Irwin had slammed into it.
"Sorry, Master Bullwinkel," Irwin muttered. Of all the luck, he had to run into the angry Bull- he should have looked where he was going.
"Your mum has to come by here tomorrow, boy, and you better believe I'll tell her about ur antics," the man growled with a nasty glint in his eyes.
Irwin deflated even more, any joy at Bronwyn's return stifled.
"I won't run again," he said with a tired little sigh as he got up and hung his head. He hoped his behavior would placate the man, but when he took a peek up he saw the scowl remained.
"You want me to keep my mouth? U go and clean the doghouse," Bullwinkel snapped.
"But-" Irwin began, knowing he should be home within a quarter of the glass, and the cleaning would take way longer.
"Ur choice, brat. Clean, or deal with ur mum," Bullwinkel said with a snort.
Irwin muttered something, then nodded and took a left. He'd have to explain to his mother later, but it would be better to tell her he worked for ramifications now than explain tomorrow.
A nasty laugh from behind told him Bullwinkel probably knew from his plight, and a soft jab cemented this.
"U'll have to see that piece of trash wannabe border scout brother of yours when ur done! Sadly, he won't be going anywhere now winter is upon us."
Irwin managed to hold himself from turning and shouting that Bronwyn wasn't a piece of trash. He knew exactly what Bullwinkel -and most others- thought of Bronwyn, and if he gave any lip, he'd not get off this easily. His behind still remembered the last spanking by the smith, Randal, and he wasn't up for another.
As he moved to the low building, he heard a bit of growling and snapping and sighed. Of course the dogs were in. The first snow had fallen, meaning there was little to no reason for them to be out at the wall. Taking a deep breath he opened the door and a stink of wet dogs slammed into him.
At least it's warm, he thought.
A dozen pairs of intelligent, dark eyes gazed at him as Bullwinkel's pack of Shadehounds stopped their play fighting.
"Hey guys," Irwin said as he closed the door behind him and grabbed a nearby shovel.
There was a sniff from his side, and he looked up to see the pack leader- an almost black, silver-eyed specimen nuzzling his waist. "Nope, no treats- sorry."
The hound snorted, then went back to snapping at the other males as Irwin maneuvered between them, making sure to keep an eye out. Though the Shadehounds wouldn't attack him, they were known to get a bit lively when they played, and he might get caught in the middle.
Struggling with a shit-caked layer of hay, he sighed as he moved it to a large bucket in the corner. If only I had a card! I wouldn't be this weak- I'm sure, he thought, as his mind drifted off to try and ignore the weariness in his arms and shaking of his hands.
He imagined Bronwyn handing him an uncommon, or -could he hope?- a rare, strength-based card, one to offset his inborn weakness. He'd grow big and strong and show that annoying Larin that he wasn't a baby that should be pushed back into… he frowned as he tried to recall the word the girl had used, but he couldn't remember.
Guessing it wasn't important anyway, he looked at the back of his hands and imagined there being a set of three cards on each, powering him on to join the guards at the wall! He'd get to fight monsters and become a hero!
When he finally deposited the last bit, he was swaying on his feet and barely managed to place the shovel back. As he moved to the door, he saw Bullwinkel standing at the door, a scowl on his face.
"Boy, how you even managed to survive to this age is beyond me," the man growled, stepping aside. "Now run along, and don't worry, I'll keep my word and not tell ur mum. Though I suggest you do it yourself, cause she has a way of figuring things out!"
"Yes, mister Bullwinkel," Irwin muttered as he tried to move faster. His body wholly ignored him, and when he finally stepped outside in the cold but fresh air, he saw the red tint in the sky.
So late? Mum's going to be furious.
"Off with you," Bullwinkel growled, and Irwin moved away, unable to go faster than a normal walk.
When he finally reached the old, gray-walled area of the rat-district and moved through the narrow alley toward the door of his house, he saw it was open. His mother's figure stood there, arms crossed, fingers clenched around her arms. The way her jaw was moving showed him he might even have to go sleep without food- again.
"Hey mum," he muttered as he walked up to her.
"Don't you 'hey mum' me, Irwin!" his mother snapped while pulling him into the tiny hallway and closing the door, bolting it in a single move. "Where have you been, and why-" she sniffed, and her eyebrows narrowed as she began looking him over.
"I'm fine, mum," Irwin tried as he heard soft talking from the living. "Can I see-"
"No. Not before you tell me where you've been!"
Irwin sighed, the little energy he had regained from hearing Bronwyn's voice fading.
"I might have run into mister Bullwinkel," he muttered, slurring his words.
"What was that?" his mother snapped, and he repeated himself, clearly this time.
"And I presume you mean that literally?" his mother asked as her eyes passed over him again, and she sighed tiredly. "Boy, you had better not’v gotten into trouble again. If that angry man increases his prices on me again we won't have any bread for a week."
"No, mum," Irwin said, dropping his head and looking at his dirty boots. He wasn't surprised she had figured it out already. "I cleaned his dog pen for him, and he said he'd drop it."
As he looked up, he thought he saw a smile flicker across her lined face, but he had to be mistaken because she glared at him. "Well, at least you did that," she said. "Now, take off and clean your boots- you probably forgot we have to trade those with miss Liverly for a bigger pair, and I don't think she wants them as they are now! Or would you like to walk in small boots for a few months?"
"No, mum," Irwin said, not saying what he actually thought, that he really didn't think she would care as she would probably toss the worn-out things away.
As his mother turned away, and stepped through the thin door into the living, Irwin caught a peak of his brother past her when she turned.
"Well, u should thank your brother for bringing food, or I'd not have saved you any. Now, hurry up and come join us- after you wash your hands and face!"
Irwin nodded and pulled off the caked boots. When he finally put them away, they were as clean as he thought he could get them, and he finally moved into the living. Barely twenty-foot square, it was both the living room, kitchen, and spare bedroom- which it would be tonight, as with Bronwyn back, they need the extra bed.
A large boy, almost a man, sat on one of the hard wooden stools, elbows on the table and resting his face on his hands as he watched Irwin. At not even seventeen, Bronwyn was already as large as most adult men and still growing taller and brawnier by the month. Part of this was the card he'd lucked upon when he was fifteen, but most of it was because he took after their late grandfather- a giant of a man that towered over even the smith and his sons with hands large enough to wrap around a kettle.
How can we be related, Bronwyn thought, not for the first time, as his smile dimmed.
"And here's the little troublemaker," Bronwyn said, his voice deeper than Irwin remembered. "So, decided you'd try and gain some muscle instead of coming to see me?"
Irwin shook his head, grinning at Bronwyn as he recalled the reason for his rush and bad luck. He quickly scanned the table for any packets. A tiny one lay in the center, and his eyes widened as his daydreams returned with a vengeance.
"Yes, yes! I brought you something," his brother said with a grin. "Now go wash ur hands before mum has an aneurysm!"
"Bronwyn Roddington, mind your language! I'm still your mother," mum snapped.
Irwin was still wondering what an aneu-something was, when he heard something off in the tone of his mother's voice. Looking up, he was surprised to find another smile on her lips, and he realized she was just playing angry. He sighed in relief, looking at her for a moment. With the smile, the lines eased from her face making her look younger than before, which was good. He knew she wasn't actually that old yet, only a little over thirty, but she looked as old as Tilly's mother next door, who was a decade older.
"Irwin!"
"Right," he said as he hobbled to the old stone sink and noticed a small tile of water. It was already dirty, but it would suffice, and he quickly scrubbed his hands. The nasty soap bit into the cuts in his hands, but he grit his teeth and struggled until they were clean… ish. Finally ready, he moved to the table and jumped up the stool across from Bronwyn. His feet dangled uselessly down, but as they came to a rest, he felt them shiver from all the strain he'd put them through- likely, he'd not be able to walk tomorrow. Unless-
"So…." Bronwyn said as he grinned. "I was going to ask if you were good, but I guess you've already shown you weren't!"
"Bronwyn," Irwin whined as he shook his head. "I've been mostly good! This was just because- because you were coming back, and I wanted to hurry and-"
"And you learned a valuable lesson," Bronwyn said with a sage nod. "Sometimes the fastest way isn't the shortest, and sometimes it is."
Irwin frowned, trying to make the lines make sense, then looked at his mother, who sighed and shook her head.
"What Bronwyn means is that sometimes it's better to go slow, and take a long way, than to rush and break your neck," his mother said before pointing at Bronwyn. "Now hurry along. Irwin needs to sleep- it will be a busy day tomorrow."
Bussy? Why? Irwin thought as he looked at his mother with wide eyes. He was supposed to have the day off, shouldn't he?
"Well, then you had better open my present," Bronwyn rumbled, and Irwin snapped to attention, licking his lips as he accepted the parcel handed to him. As soon as he held it, he knew it wasn't a rare card because those weighed as much as metal. No, this was so light it might not even be uncommon. He tried to suppress his disappointment and smiled widely at Bronwyn.
"Thanks, brother!"
Bronwyn just raised an eyebrow, though Irwin thought he saw something flicker in the other's eyes. Then it was gone, and he shrugged as he carefully removed the bindings from the cloth, unwrapping the small card. As soon as he saw the dull gray back of a common card, he knew his dreams wouldn't come to pass. Even the best common wasn't going to magically change him from being small and scrawny into being as strong as his brother.
Any card is better than none, he reminded himself as he slowly flipped it over.
An image of a finger with a flame atop showed on the card, as real as if it was there at that moment. An odd swirling pattern decorated the top, something he'd never seen before because normally the borders were smooth lines, but he barely cared, staring in almost horror at the card.
"What's this?" he blurted before he could stop himself. He cringed as he heard the disbelief and dissatisfaction in his own voice and quickly looked up at his brother, trying to fake a surprised smile. "I've not seen-"
"It's fine," Bronwyn said as he sighed and looked at his mother. "I know it's not what you were hoping for, and I can understand your confusion, but let me explain."
"No, I-" Irwin started but stopped when his mother hissed.
"Let your brother finish talking, Irwin. No interrupting!'
"Yes, mother," he said demurely, glancing at the card. He might not know what the exact thing was that the card did, but he recognized a utility caster card when he saw one.
"I know what you want, but during the last few months, I got to meet a lot of knowledgeable people whom I asked for advice on a card for you," Bronwyn said slowly, seeming to carefully pick his words as he gazed into Irwin's eyes. "From them I heard that the only cards that could potentially help with your problem are all rare or higher. I tried getting one, but…"
Irwin grimaced, feeling horrible for not being happy with what he'd gotten. He knew exactly how hard, if not impossible, it was to get a rare card, let alone one that had physical enhancement abilities. They were the most desired cards but only dropped from the physically strongest monsters of the different ranks, making them incredibly dangerous to get.
"The thing they all said was to get you a utility card with potential for combat, which is what you have there. It's called Flickerlight, and if you slot it, you will learn how to create a tiny flame above the tip of your finger, which you can throw."
Irwin swallowed and knew his smile had turned uglier than it should, but he couldn't help himself. The card was useless. All he could do with it was light a candle, at best from a distance, if he could even throw it. His tossing was almost as bad as his running skill.
"Thanks, Bronwyn," he said as he swallowed and got off the chair. "I'll go to bed now."
As he moved to the door that led to his small room, he saw his brother's sad look, but Bronwyn said nothing, and neither did their mother. Only when he was already staring at his bed, about to close the door, did his mother sigh.
"Irwin. Slot the skill," she said in a tone that left no room for discussion. Irwin didn't know what to say and just nodded as he closed the thin door.
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Carrarn
This is my 2022 attempt at the NaNoWriMo - its a different kind of story for me, much slower, and with no LitRPG. It's meant to end after this NaNo, as I don't want any other long running stories until I finish with Minglings and Carbon Copy :) It is also the first time I've put this up publicly, but as its also on RoyalRoad it makes sense.
