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Mind Your Step, Draft 1, CH 08
🕑 Added 2025-09-19 13:00:03 +0000 UTCRuppert complained about being left alone when Tibs retrieved it. Not that it couldn’t sense anything, but that it couldn’t reach all the things it smelled. He gave it chunks of meat to quiet it, but all it did was stop the chittering, not the complaining Tibs only could hear.
It took most of the day to reach the larger bandit camp, having to keep his pace to Heather’s tracking. He couldn’t argue that the crude map was enough to get them there, and not that he already sensed them. The shadows stretched enough by the time they heard the bandits in their camp that he worried she’d suggest they wait until morning to scout them.
She didn’t, so he secured Ruppert’s cage in a tree’s branches with plenty of meat to keep it occupied, then they snuck closer.
Seven tents, and two carts with bags of flour on them. Cloaks made of furs hung on posts, the mix of Fever and Corruption probably the reason for them to be away from the tents. Next to them, badly cleaned skulls large enough to go on someone’s head made up the monster costumes used with the villagers.
“I count eleven bandits,” Heather whispered once he drew her attention to the disguises. There were two more sleeping in the tents. “It’s too many for us to take on.”
He let her retreat. Without her, he could overwhelm the bandits. He wouldn’t be able to return the flour, or tell the villagers they were safe, but they would come to realize it and he had to hope they’d have enough from the harvest to last through the cold season.
“What are you doing?” Heather whispered; at his side again. “You can’t be stupid enough to take them on yourself.” When he didn’t reply she sighed. “What are you going to do? Pull out a costume and dazzle them with some Bard’s song character? Come on, we’ll let the city know about this, and they’ll handle it.”
When she pulled on his arm, it confirmed she wouldn’t leave him be. He sensed for something to draw the bandit’s attention, and, since all he had to work with were the trees, he broke a large branch that fell fifty paces behind them.
Heather turned without standing as the bandits went on guard. Tibs forced himself to do as she had to keep her from asking questions. A man ordered the others to investigate. Tibs couldn’t place the accent, which made him wonder if this was a foreigner using locals for his own gain. Not that it mattered. He wasn’t leaving anyone alive to continue this.
“We have to go,” she whispered urgently, and he only hesitated long enough to locate another branch to make fall. Three paces later, its sound warned them and the bandits it was falling, and Tibs pulled Heather out of the way in time.
“Over there,” someone yelled, and Tibs unsheathed his new sword.
Heather cursed and did the same, edging toward the camp and better lighting. The five still in the camp were ready for them once they stepped out of the tree line, the two in the tents in the process of exiting and adding to them.
Tibs stepped away from Heather to deal with them. He couldn’t make overt use of essence, but so long as he didn’t leave anyone to speak of his eyes, he still had ample ways of making sure he won.
He parried and dodged. Nudged with Metal and Wood to keep weapons from landing, he also coated himself with a thin sheet of iced Water and Metal for when he needed to block. Earth ensured that when he shouldered someone out of the way, they were out of the fight while they got back to their feet.
Behind him, Heather cursed the entire time she fought. She cursed him, the elements, the bandits, the abyss. She even cursed the villagers. When she stopped, it was to let out a pained cry that reminded Tibs he needed to do the same, and made him sense in her direction to confirm she wasn’t in grave danger.
One of the bandits exiting a tent roared and barreled through his allies to reach Tibs, swinging a club nearly as long as the man was tall, and that Tibs had trouble believing could be wielded, no matter how strong the man looked to be.
Blocking caused him to slide back until he used Earth to anchor himself in place, then when a blow made it through his defense, it shattered the etching protecting him until he reinforced it enough the ice was visible. The bandit was too enraged to notice, bringing the club down over and over, forcing Tibs purely on the defensive against him, and making dealing with the other bandits sneaking shots at him difficult.
He gained a reprieve when he iced the ground under the berserker’s feet and used the breather to dispatch two other bandits. He saw the other one, who had exited a tent, let the arrow loose, and Tibs formed a wall of ice by Heather to keep it from hitting. Then he was dealing with a raging berserker again, dodging more than blocking or striking, and doing his best to keep track of the archer as she moved to gain another shot.
He finally planted his sword in the berserker’s stomach, and received the club in the side hard enough he was off his feet, and setting an etching wrap to keep the bones from hurting too much before he landed.
He’d lost sight of the archer, but sensed her on the other side of a tent, drawing her bow. A quick application of Fire broke the string, then he had to confront the berserker coming at him as if he wasn’t quickly losing Fever and Life through the gaping wound.
He read about people who could become so angry they didn’t feel their injuries, but this was his first time dealing with one of them. He didn’t like it.
Blood flooded out, taking Life essence with it. The man still had a significant amount, but no one but him knew it. He pulled that out, and the man crashed down with his next step.
He didn’t give the bandits time to get over their surprise. He retrieved his sword and attacked. He had two more dead before the others were about to fight back, but now there was hesitation he took advantage of. Glancing at the dead berserker resulted in them also dying.
Then he fought at Heather’s side, and together they made quick work of the bandits that were left. The archer ran off, and Tibs killed them by pulling all their Life essence out once they were among the trees.
He sheathed his sword and looked around in satisfaction.
Heather punched him in the face hard enough his head snapped to the side. He was impressed. He’d forgotten all that metal in her armor did more than add to her protection.
“You abyss liar!” She pointed to the wall of ice. “You have an element!”
“Yes.” He didn’t bother berating himself. Even if he’d had time to think, he wouldn’t have let her die to keep his secret. Although he might have used a less obvious element.
“Why didn’t you tell me? If I’d known you could do this, we could have formulated a plan instead of being surprised like this.”
“Tell the woman determined to see me in a cell my secret?” He didn’t bother hiding his amusement. “Maybe you don’t see the problem with that, but I do.”
She studied his face. “How did you hide your eyes?”
He shrugged and counted on her lack of knowledge for this lie to work. “It’s just how it is. If I don’t use my element. My eyes are normal.”
“You can do that? Can you teach me?”
He could see her speculation. “I don’t know how I do it. I’ve never read anything about anyone else who can.”
The disappointment was clear on her face. She motioned to the wall again. “Why reveal it?”
He absorbed it, and the arrow fell to the ground.
“You revealed your element to save my life?”
“I didn’t think. I just acted.” He considered adding a lie, but…. He sighed. “I’d have done it anyway. You aren’t so horrible a person I want you dead.”
“You would have done it yourself if I was?” she asked.
“If you were, I expect you’d have given me a reason.”
“Where did the archer go?”
He shrugged. “If they didn’t shoot again, I expect they fled. Probably realized they couldn’t do much against someone with an element.”
“Two of them,” she said bitterly. “Not that I managed anything. Anytime I tried, I had to defend myself.”
“It takes years of training to be able to use essence in fights effectively.”
“Or probably shorter in a dungeon,” she said pensively. “My dad spoke of how much more intense everything is in there. Did you train in one?”
He considered how to answer. “Not willingly. I found myself in a bad spot, and the only choices I had were a dungeon or the noose. I figured a dungeon was at least a chance.”
She opened her mouth, then closed it. When she spoke it was with caution. “The men who killed your mother?”
He nodded.
She looked around. “What do we do about this?”
“The camp’s already set up. There’s certainly better food.”
“The bodies? It’s going to take a while to burn them all.”
He snorted. “They don’t deserve that. We can drag them into the trees for the animals to feast on them.”
She stared at him. “But their essence? The elements?”
He shrugged. “I think the elements don’t need their essence returned from people who terrorize villagers and steal from them.”
“That isn’t supposed to be our decision to make,” she whispered.
“They can tell me how wrong I was when I’m burned and sent to them.” He considered her. “But if you have that much of a problem with it. I’ll help you burn them.”
“No,” she finally said, if reluctantly. “Burning this many bodies risks burning the trees too. And you’re right. They weren’t nice people.”
“I’ll get Ruppert and we’ll drag the bodies into the trees.”
“Just leave it there until after.”
“He’s already going to bitch enough about having been left alone. He’d not going to shut up if he finds out I waited.”
“Tyrone. You know that’s just a squirrel, right? They don’t talk.”
“No one told him that.”
*
“There you are!” Ruppert complained. “You could have left me more meat. I’ve been sitting here with nothing to do!”
He took the cage. “And I see you survived it.”
“Why is your reserve Water? You didn’t keep it to one of the elements before.”
“I slipped and showed Heather I have this element. So I don’t have to hide it. Although—” he let the element go. “I also don’t need to maintain it.”
“It’s strange how you do that. Where do you put the other element when you aren’t using it? It doesn’t fit in those reserves in your bracers.”
“I don’t know. I don’t put them anywhere. I guess they just go back to the elements when I don’t channel it.”
Heather wasn’t in the camp when he reached it, and two bodies were gone. He placed the cage on the table.
“Oh, what’s that smell?” Ruppert demanded. Sniffing toward the carts. “Smells good. I want some.”
“Later. I have to get the bodies out of here before the animals decide to investigate.”
The squirrel reached through the bars. “Just let me out. I won’t do anything other than eat that.”
“No. I don’t trust you.”
He ignored the complaining, which, fortunately, ended once he pulled his sense close to him. It was a way to gain some peace, if he was willing to blind himself to coming dangers.
Ruppert was still pushing against the bars when he grabbed another body, trying to force his head through the too-narrow bars. Tibs ignored the complaining again while he heard it.
He returned from dumping the body as Heather also returned to the camp, and when he heard Ruppert it was to grunts of effort.
With a roll of the eyes, Tibs glanced at the cage as he reached for another body and stared. Ruppert’s squirrel body was halfway out of the cage, far too narrow and elongated. Its hands pushed against the bar as a lump in its lower body kept it from leaving it further.
With a victorious scream, Ruppert shoved and propulsed himself out of the cage, its body rupturing and leaving the core in it. Reflexively, Tibs caught it in a bubble of water before it fell to the bottom of the cage.
“What was that?” Heather demanded, staring.
Tibs pulled the bars apart so he could take the core.
“What happened?” Ruppert asked, scared. “Where did everything go?”
“You destroyed your body with this.” Tibs sensed what was left of the squirrel, and he wasn’t sure that even if the core had made it through, it would have survived. Or maybe with the core inside, Ruppert could will it to continue no matter the mess of essence he turned it into. It was no longer a normal living animal after all.
“But I made it fit through those bars.”
“Which are narrower than your core. Didn’t you feel any pain?”
“There was pressure. When it went away, I thought I was free, but there was nothing after that. I’m sorry I broke the rules, but that smelled so good and I just wanted to have a little bit. And you’re just mean by leaving me in the cage with nothing to do.”
“What is that?” Heather asked, and Tibs closed his hand over the core.
“Nothing important.”
“It’s too late to lie, Tyrone. You called it a core. It was inside that squirrel, and I don’t think animals can live with something like that in them. Is it a dungeon creature? Is that where your magic’s from?”
“No. My magic’s from my element. It’s not limited to what it looks like once you’re fully trained. And Ruppert is….” How was he supposed to explain this one?
“Do you have any more secrets, Tyrone?” she asked, sounding hurt.
He laughed. “Of course I do. I’m a thief. I spend my life accumulating secrets.”
“And you’re older than you look,” she said, realization hitting. “Are you all those characters in the stories the bards sing about?”
Tibs leveled his gaze on her. “I’m not that old.”
She nodded.
“Do you really expect me to tell you my secrets, Heather? Is that how you think this works?”
“We’re traveling together. You’re helping me.”
“Under something of duress. There’s this threat of you, throwing me in a cell hanging over my head. Now that you know I have an element, it’s probable the guild you’ll sell me to.”
“Are you wanted by the guild?”
“They don’t even know I exist. I make sure of that.” He let go of Water and motioned to his, now, brown eyes.
“What if….” She didn’t finish it, and Tibs was glad of it. The words had already been glowing.
“Heather. I don’t know what your parents taught you about the world, but people don’t become allies just because they end up having to work together. I agreed to train you. In exchange, you agreed not to see me in a cell, if that proves to be enough that you don’t have to go to the guild for training. That’s it. I don’t have to tell you anything about me. I certainly don’t have to tell you things you can end up using against me if you decide I didn’t live up to my end of our bargain.”
“I understand.” The disappointment was still loud in her voice. Making her sound young.
“Tyrone,” Ruppert said weakly. “Can I get another body, please? I promise not to break it. I don’t want to be with nothing, again.”
“I need to get Ruppert another body. I’ll be back shortly.”
*
Ruppert didn’t struggle in his grip even if this squirrel was larger. Heather was returning to the camp, and two other bodies were gone. Ruppert did struggle when Tibs reached for the cage.
“Please, don’t put me in there again. I’ll be a good dungeon. I promise. I won’t do anything bad.”
He couldn’t trust him.
Only. How did he know that? Because Ruppert had tried to escape? It’s what Tibs would do if he was put in a cell.
Could he take the risk?
He sat. “I’ll make you a deal, Ruppert. No cage. But in return, you don’t run off, no matter what you smell. You don’t eat anything without me telling you it’s okay.”
“It can’t hurt me,” Ruppert said. “It’s all just essence. But I love how they taste. Nothing I’ve eaten before had taste.”
Tibs didn’t point out those had been people. “It’s not about you getting hurt. It’s about people asking questions about a squirrel that eats things squirrels don’t. When people ask questions I can’t answer to their satisfaction, it means I have to deal with problems. I have enough problems already. Do we have a deal?”
“Yes.”
Tibs opened his hand, and Ruppert tensed, sniffing toward the bags of flour. “You can go, but no further than those bags.”
Ruppert ran to them.
“He really does talk, doesn’t he?” Heather asked. “It’s that core, isn’t it? It’s a bit late to lie about that.”
“Yes, he does.”
“How do you understand him? It’s all just squirrel talk to me.”
“Tell her about your essence,” Ruppert said.
“No,” he replied.
“Why not. I like her.”
“You don’t even know her.”
Heather raised an eyebrow.
“He wants me to tell you everything. But I don’t know why I understand him and you don’t. Like my eyes. It’s just something that happened.”
“Where did you find him?”
How much could he say? How much should he say? That last one was easy. He shouldn’t say anything. But even if she wasn’t as inquisitive as he was, he doubted she’d simply forget about it. So he needed to give her enough to satisfy that curiosity, while not igniting more.
“Do you remember where you caught up with me? That creature I told you about that you couldn’t see?”
“You mean when you used your magic to send me flying away?”
“Ruppert did that.”
“You helped.” The chittering was mostly muffled by his mouth being filled with flour.
“He’s the creature you fought? So I was right. He’s a dungeon creature.”
“I’ve never read about any of them being able to talk.”
“So what is he?”
“I don’t know.”
“Just tell her I’m a dungeon.”
Tibs smiled. “He claims to be a dungeon.”
She stared at him, then at Ruppert. “Kind of small for a dungeon, isn’t he?”
“I said he claimed to be that. Not that he is.”
Comments
Kindar
thanks for pointing them out, I have corrected them for #2, I replaced it with "Are you all those characters in the stories the bards sing about?”
Jim Smith
"ensured that when she[ replace with "he" if you meant Tibs] shouldered someone" "Are you all those storied [thieves/rogues] the bards sing about?" Or alternatively "Are you in all those storie[ replace 'd' with 's'] the bards sing about?
