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Mind Your Step, Draft 1, CH 02
🕑 Added 2025-09-05 13:00:09 +0000 UTCTibs laughed.
He’d fully expected her to protest, to negotiate something more to her liking. Try to whittle at his determination.
A bold lie? Glowing so bright?
That took him completely by surprise.
“What?” she demanded, offended.
He got his laughter under control, save the occasional chuckle. “Really? You chase me through how many kingdoms? Trek through the wilderness to find me here and just like that, you’ll give that up. Give up getting the respect you feel you are due, just because I can help you?”
“Yes.”
He kept from rolling his eyes. “You aren’t a good liar.”
She glared at me. “I’m not some thief that goes around conning everyone he meets.”
“It’s not what I do. I rob nobles and people who deserve it.”
“So much the hero,” she said mockingly.
“So. How about we try this again. No lies this time?”
She snorted. “Then, I’m taking you in, no matter what you do. Criminals like you only deserve to rot in cells. You probably deserve a catacomb.”
“You really see me as a horrible person, don’t you?”
Her glare was the only needed response.
Could he convince her he wasn’t as bad as she thought? Would she approve of how his reasons? His selection process? Probably not, and certainly not just from him telling her about them.
So, it was leaving her behind, and not getting any information out of her, or taking a risk that would almost certainly stab him in the back.
But. He would have the information he was after, hopefully.
“How about this, as a compromise?” He waited for the glare to go away. Her, angry, wouldn’t lead to anything productive.
“Go ahead,” she finally said, cautiously.
“You travel with me—” she snorted “—while I teach you what I can. You don’t try to kill me, or incapacitate me, or get the guards after me, or anything else that leads to me in a cell, or a catacomb, until I have nothing left to teach you.”
“And you’re going to claim to always have something for me to learn until I’m dead of old age.”
“You’re not dying that way.”
She narrowed her eyes.
“You’re a bounty hunter. How many of them do you know who left that behind to quietly grow old?”
Her expression turned pensive. “I have an element.”
“That’s not going to keep you alive through stupid decisions.”
“But it gives me longer to learn, if I get stronger in it.”
Her knowledge of that detail caught him by surprise until he remembered her father was an adventurer. She’d know he didn’t age the same way. The man might not have changed in all the time she’d known him.
“But you’re going to have to learn for that to happen. Not just how to etch, but what to do with your essence and your reserve. What does your reserve feel like?”
“Don’t your book tell you that?”
He shook his head. “Everyone feels it differently. Even two with the same elements won’t feel it the same. One might have her Air reserve feel like a storm is brewing in it, the other he’ll just have a breeze. It’s got something to do with who they are, according to the books. How they think affects what it feels like.”
She closed her eyes. “It’s like it’s shoving everywhere. Like if I stop holding it in, it’s going to explode everywhere and tear me apart.”
“That won’t happen.”
She glared at him, but didn’t comment.
“What you sense of your element isn’t what it is.”
“Any way you can be even more cryptic?”
He shrugs. “Blame the scholars who wrote the books. But like I said. It’s different for everyone. So telling you that one of them wrote that one adventurer explained it as realizing that what he sensed was the essence of the essence isn’t—”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“—going to help you. You need to come to your own realization of what it means for your essence to be essence.”
“And that’s it? Until I do that, however I manage it, I’m stuck?”
“No, there are still things you can practice, but they’ll get easier once you understand that.”
“And you’ll help me with it, so long as I don’t try to get you thrown in cells.”
“Or catacombs.”
She snorted. “Like anyone would think a thief belongs in those.” She sighed. “You don’t get to steal anything. You commit one robbery and this deal is off.”
He didn’t have to think about his answer, but unlike her, he understood the power of hesitation. Of appearing reluctant.
“I don’t have that much money left. You saw to that.”
“Are you planning on buying a castle?”
He rolled his eyes. “It’s the rare library that lets people in without charging. I know a lot, but not everything.”
“I’ll deal with that.” No glow.
He raised an eyebrow.
“I have some influence, and some money.”
“If you can take care of that, then I won’t have a need to steal.” And it wasn’t like she’d know if he did. There were plenty of robberies she wasn’t aware he’d committed.
She raised her tied hands. “So, we have a deal?”
He took his time before nodding, then took a dagger from the pile of her things to cut her free. The question didn’t mean she wasn’t planning something, but this was the best he’d get. And he’d deal with whatever she tried.
“You could just have undone them, you know.”
“Why? You have plans for it?”
She glared at him.
He cut her legs free, and she went for her things.
Instead of putting them away, her search through them became frantic.
“Where it is?” she demanded. “The stone I had around my neck. Give it back.”
“Why do you think I’d have it?”
“Really? You see anyone else here who might have stolen it?”
“Do you know what it is?”
“Of course I know what it is. Why do you think I took it?” The widening of her eyes confirmed what the wording had implied.
“Why did you think you needed something that disrupts essence work?”
“Because you use magical items,” she said in a ‘haven’t you listened to anything I said,’ tone. “Now, give it back.”
“No.”
“I swear to the abyss, if you threw it away, I am going to—”
“I didn’t throw it anywhere.” He glanced toward the treeline. “I hid it.”
“Why?”
“Because I know how rare those stones are, which means they are valuable.”
“You were going to sell it?”
“I am out of money. Because of you.”
“It’s mine!”
He smiled. “No, it isn’t. You took it. You stole it.”
She ground her teeth. “I need to return it, or my dad’s going to be in trouble.”
That, he hadn’t expected. “Why would he be in trouble for something you did?” He didn’t know how he felt about a man taking the blame for his daughter’s actions, other than it made him a better father than many he’d encountered.
She failed to start talking a few times.
She sighed. “The guild lent it to him because of something he needed to take care of. I—” she glared at him “—borrowed it to deal with you. I’m going to have to return it to him.”
“Before the guild demands it back.”
She shrugged. “He can probably tell them he needs it for as long as he has to, but I have to return it to him.”
This changed his plans for the stone, but only if she held up her side of the deal. “When we part ways, I’ll return it.”
“Fuck off. You give it to me now, or the deal’s off.”
“No. But you’re welcome to search for it.” He motioned to the trees. “From what I read, you should be able to sense the stone’s effect now that you have an element.”
She glared, then turned to her pack. “If you don’t hold to that deal, I’m going to make you pay for it.” She looked at him over his shoulder. “And by then, you’re going to have taught me how to use my element to make it happen.”
He didn’t bother replying.
“Where’s my sword?”
Tibs focused his sense and motioned toward the dungeon. “You must have dropped it when you flew out of the cavern.” It was only a few paces inside the influence.
“How did you survive that creature you said was in there? You look like it cut you up pretty badly, but I don’t see a lot of blood, or cut flesh.”
He used the explanation she’d provided him with. “I had magical items. They kept me alive, but did nothing for my armor.”
“Had?”
He shrugged. “I couldn’t afford the kind of items that just have to be recharged. It was drained to crumbling by the time the fight was done.” Claiming he had more would let him explain how he used essence, if he had to. But he’d also have to produce the item, which he clearly didn’t have on him at the moment.
He wasn’t claiming his bracers were magic.
“I’m guessing that’s where you lost your sword?” she said, heading toward the dungeon.
“And my shield.” And anything else he needed to explain away.
Her path, as she looked around, took her away from where her sword lay, so he etched a small flicker of light on it to catch her attention. She hurried to it and looked it over as she returned.
Her speculative look at him warned Tibs she’d try something, but he waited.
She leveled her sword down at him. “Now, about my stone you stole.”
“You’re really going to break the deal now?”
“You shouldn’t have let me get my weapon.”
He sighed. “Are you going to let me stand?”
She smirked. “You can’t take me to it sitting.”
He etched Air around his bracers as added protections to them as he stood. “You realize this is going to make me trusting you difficult going forward.”
“Don’t worry, I’m sure I’ll survive your distrust. Now, move.”
“No.”
“I’m the one with the sword, Fleet Fingers.”
“My name’s Tyrone, and I’m still not moving.”
“You don’t have your protection anymore.”
He snorted. “You seem to think I can’t do anything without it.”
She lined up the sword with his heart. “I said, move.”
“And I’m telling you, no.”
The flick to his face was quick, but not enough; he stepped away, and to the side, closer to the dungeon’s influence. He didn’t plan on stepping in there and having to explain whatever the core did, but he figured moving away from the treeline, no matter how far it was, made his point.
“Don’t force me to hurt you.”
He smiled. “I’m not forcing anything. You’re doing this of your own volition. But you don’t have to worry about hurting me.”
“Okay. Have it your way.” She lunged, and he parried the sword with his bracer, adding his will to move the tip enough it wouldn’t cut his arm as well. She stepped aside and swung. He ducked under the blade. She came at him with quick slashes, which he dodged and parried, having to constantly use essence to keep just out of reach.
Her confidence was warranted. He doubted many could win against her one on one. Even armed, he wasn’t sure he’d managed it unaided.
When he had to parry the knife, along with the sword, he decided he had enough. He deflected her knife hand with his bracer, added Earth to his arm to ensure that when he twisted, she dropped it. The pained cry added some satisfaction.
The punch in his face when he let the hand go took some away. Then he was on the defensive, focusing on making his nose bleed. That happening, he caught her sword arm, twisted as he pulled her over his shoulder and slammed her on the ground hard.
Then he put a knee on her chest. The metal plates between the leather layers didn’t keep the compression from happening.
“Maybe you never thought about this, but I’ve taken on city guards and laughed as I disarmed and humiliated them. I’ve fought animals actually determined to kill me and thugs and assassins, and would be criminal rulers who thought they were stronger than me. All that with barely the use of magic items,” he added because he didn’t want to make himself sound like he was out of bards songs. “You don’t pose a threat to me, Heather the Bounty Hunter.”
She struggled under him. When she tried to punch him, he caught her hand.
“I’m going to be nice, and believe this was youthful ignorance on your part and not change the deal. Although I am going to take your blades from you. I’m still going to help you with your element, I’m still going to keep from stealing, and I’m still going to return your stone when we part way. But Heather.” He leaned in. “You try something like this again, and you’re on your own. Good luck explaining what happened to your father when he asked for the stone back.”
“Luck’s not a thing,” she said.
He chuckled. He wanted to ask who had taught her that. If it was her father, he was curious what the man had lived through to come to that understanding.
“Did I make my point, Heather?”
“Yes.”
“So, no attacking me when my back’s turned? No threatening me with whatever knife you’ll keep to yourself? You’re going to stick to the deal from now on?”
The defiance lasted a few heartbeats. Then it was resignation. “Yes.”
No glow.
“Good.” He moved off her and picked up her sword off the ground. “Unless you want this getting damaged as we travel, I’m going to need its scabbard. And your knives. If you please.”
She handed them over, except for the one in her boot, and he pretended not to notice. Once he had them secured, he walked toward the smuggler’s path, angling to reach it further toward where the forest restarted.
“We need to go in the other direction,” Heather said. “I have to retrieve my camp supplies. What about yours?” she asked, sounding surprise by the realization he didn’t have them.
“Destroyed by a bear who objected to me making camp in its territory,” he replied, considering her request and how she studied him. There had been no light on the words.
“A bear attacked your camp, and you survived?”
“I ran.”
She searched his face, and he didn’t react.
“Liar. I didn’t see any wrecked camp on the way.”
“I make my camps well away from any trail because I don’t like it when some unwanted traveler thinks it’s an invitation to help themselves to my things.”
“I still don’t believe you.”
He shrugged. “That you believe me or not doesn’t change what happened. Lead the way.”
He followed her, and the sun was close to the trees when they reached it. He was impressed she’d taken the time to set it up before venturing to find him.
“We’re going to spend the night here,” he said as she reached for one of the picks holding the tent’s side in place. “It’ll be close to full dark by the time you’re done.”
“You aren’t sleeping in my tent,” she stated. “And I’m not sharing my food with you.”
“I don’t want your tent. And I’ll go hunt my own meal.” He unsheathed the sword and smiled. “Since I’m now armed.”
Comments
Milan Seyed Mahmoud
Really enjoying the potential that this more antagonistic relationship represents
Kindar
thank you. they have been corrected
Jim Smith
not want[what] I do realizing that what he sense[s] was the essence needed to take cared[care of]
