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A Gamer's Guide 335
🕑 Added 2024-12-06 11:00:09 +0000 UTCThe kids watch the spot for a moment, and then, one of the oldest ones stands up. “I’ll go get the broom,” he says, sighing as he heads for the door. “Aaron, tomorrow is your turn, okay?”
“Yeah, yeah,” one of the other older ones says, waving his hand.
While I’m still in shock over my apparent new profession, the door to the library opens, and Holly steps inside. She immediately notices the older kid that stood up. “Oh, Otte, today is—”
“I know, I know, I’m getting it.”
“Thank you.” Back on track, she heads for the middle of the semi-circle, ergo, where I’m standing. Her eyes bore into me and I promptly shrink back. The moment I open my mouth to speak, she silences me, saying, “I heard. We’ll talk about this later, so just… Leave, okay? Wait in the hallway or something, I don’t know. Just get out of here.”
“R—right,” I say, backing away from her. “Sorry, I didn’t—”
“Go!”
Nodding hastily, I slink back over to the door, only barely hearing the rest of what she’s saying.
“I’ll explain in a moment why Glyph isn’t here. Before I list off today’s chore duties, I’d like to give a brief summary of our new gardener, so you’ll know why I hate his guts and why you shouldn’t be within ten feet of him…”
I close the door behind me. Right. Okay, so… That’s fair. Informing them is good. That said…
I’ll be staying here for a while?
How much is a while? What does she want from me specifically? Why the garden?
Why make me work on the most haunted part of the haunted mansion?!
I don’t—okay, okay, let’s just breathe for a moment.
Fixing a garden? No problem. As long as I’m not there at night, it should be fine. Like, seriously. Ghosts can’t handle daylight, so as long as I work during the day, I’ll be fine. The issue isn’t really that. Nor is it having to do this work for… however long a while is. That’s alright. No problems there. No, rather, my main issue is the company here.
I am utterly hated by two people. Maybe more, depending on the kids. I might have felt fairly confident in being able to win them over by being mildly funny, but if they know what I’ve been up to… Yeah, no. They’ll avoid me at best. Which means that, not counting the goddess of children, the only person here who likes me is Rice, and maybe Grandma.
Yeah. This is not looking good.
That said, it seems I’ve got some free time on my hands. First of all, let’s do a quick sniff-check on the surroundings… Right, so, Rice is out back with Grandma, Glyph is upstairs, Holly is in the library alongside all the other kids… Save for one? I sniff a bit more. Sniff sniff sniff. Yeah, there’s a single kid lying upstairs, in a room small enough for only one person to fit. All alone.
…Why? Why aren’t they in the library? Somehow, I doubt it’s because they overslept. But why else would it be? I can’t smell any significant illness on them, so…
I glance at the door I just came from. Inside, Holly is dividing up the chores for the day and reminding everyone to bring their homework for the first class.
She won’t miss me.
Setting out to sate my curiosity, I head back towards the stairs, sniffing all the whole. Let’s see here, up, and then over to the other side, third door on the left. Should be easy. I start heading up the stairs.
Sure, it’s not like I need to go to talk to the lonesome kid left behind by everyone else, I’m sure they’ll fill him out about my new post here eventually. However, if I really am going to be working here for a while, why not make the effort to introduce myself personally? Why, if I was a lonesome kid in a lonesome orphanage, all alone, I would be thrilled if—
Oh, shoot, I’m already here. Man, this mansion is much smaller than the mayor’s was! That one took ages to walk through, so in comparison, this is a fair bit nicer. But enough about that! There’s a kid I ought to introduce myself to, and that’s what I’m going to do.
Taking a deliberate breath, silently thanking the fact that my heart isn’t beating at 200 bpm—or at all—I knock on the door. And then, I wait. The seconds tick by. Five, six, seven…
A small voice pipes up from the other side, saying, “Come in.”
I heed it, and enter.
The room is as small as I thought, somehow succeeding in being even smaller than the room I woke up in. However, unlike that one, this room actually has a bit of personality, with a fancy purple rug on the floor, a well-stocked bookshelf, and a nice view over the garden. The bed is right next to the window too, so since the window is low enough, not only does it let in a lot of light, the kid is able to see outside. Nice!
The kid, in question, is looking at me. Eyes like saucers. He’s apparently reading a thick tome of some sort, but before I can read the title, it falls out of his grasp and onto his lap. Which, of course, means that I now have to look at his face. At his sunken cheeks, harrowed eyes and prominent brow. Even his ears are sagging as though aged beyond his years, a worrying thing to see in a kid who seems to be, like, ten at most.
“M—mister?” he says, eyes trembling.
<Lett Ne’harr>
Oh, shoot, I forgot to introduce myself. Coughing into my hand, I enter the room fully and close the door behind me, showing clearly that I’m nice and not-evil by flashing a disarming smile. “Hey, there! I’m Kitty, and as of today, I’ll be your new gardener! At least, for a while.”
He sits up straighter, and somehow, I can tell that he didn’t listen to a single word I just said. Tears well up in his eyes. Slowly, his hands grope for his book, which he soon presses to his chest like a stuffed animal. Do I look that scary? Maybe I should leave and let Glyph take this… Ah, no, he’s smiling now. Is that out of genuine joy, or is he becoming manic by fear? “Mister, it’s been so long… Have you come to save me once again?”
I look behind me to ensure that it’s really me he’s talking to. Yeah, no one else here. Just me. Turning back to him, I point one finger at myself, and say, in a French accent that will not translate, “Moi?”
His smile turns bitter. “Do you not recognize me, mister?” His desperate little chuckle makes me feel guilty simply by association. He reaches one hand to his face, and covers his right eye. I shake my head lightly at him. I don’t…? His smile almost breaks. “Ah, I’m sorry, I… Although it might be able to better stir your memory, I unfortunately cannot break my own neck. Without his foul divinity running through me, I cannot survive such a demonstration.”
Broken neck?
…Right eye?
The cogs start to turn. Hang on. Wait just a minute. “Aren’t you…?”
His face shines up. “Yes! Yes, you do recognize me, though I hardly recognize you! Yes—yes, it is me! The poor, unhappy apprentice who foolishly traded his family for power… And you, who saved me, despite my hardly deserving it!” He’s crying even more now, taken by a joy so strong he seems to want to leap out of bed to embrace me. But… he can’t. He must have noticed my realization, as he soon looks down, chuckling bitterly. “Yes, you’ve caught me at a rather inopportune time. I’m told it’s because the sudden removal of divinity likewise stole my soul. Not that I would have minded to die. Somehow, this, I believe… May be a worse fate.”
Thoughts rush through my head as the dead heart in my chest sinks through the pit in my stomach and straight through the floor. “I—I’m sorry,” I say, the familiar word taking on alien regret. “I didn’t know—” But that’s not a real apology. “I was only following—” Neither is this. “I should have…” My knees shake, but I don’t know whether to stagger backwards or forwards, so I end up simply swaying where I stand, rooted in place. “I’m sorry.”
The too-mature expression falls off his face, replaced with a jarringly childlike look of curiosity. “Pray tell—what for?”
I reel, my hands moving mechanically to convey my thoughts for me, gesturing at his bedridden state. “Forgive me, it’s my fault that this…”
“Mister, what are you talking about?” His words leave me mute. Even if breathing was still necessary to my continued existence, now, it would have ceased. His smile is too calm, too collected. A maturity beyond his years shines like dead stars in his eyes. “This is his fault, not yours. His, and mine. You did nothing but save an undeserving life.”
“But because I saved you, now, you’re in pain!”
“...So? Is that not how all lives are?”
“Are they?”
“Yes—at least, that is how Jull’ne Urum, second of Flight argues. I tend to agree with him, though his further reasoning that this means that all existence is therefore sin is a bit too much. Wherefore ought one to live, then?” He waves weakly to the bookshelves. “Of those, I only came to enjoy three. But was the trudge through the rest not worthwhile if only to find those three?” His face suddenly shines up with the look of a child who really, really wants to invite another over to play. “Would you like to borrow the three? Contemplations on Dragons by Ylva D’arc is my favorite!”
Finally uprooted, I take a step back. “No—no, that’s…” I shake my head robotically. “Thank you, but it’s fine. My mind isn’t too sharp, so trying to read stuff like that… It’d go right over my head. Sorry.”
“Really? A shame. Perhaps the goddess’ daily stories would be more to your style, then.”
A question tugs at me. It might not be prudent to ask, but… “Why didn’t you attend it this morning?” He stares at me blankly. I busy my eyes by looking at the bookshelves, absently reading the titles as my mouth works on autopilot. “I mean, surely, they could have carried you, or if there’s some kind of wheelchair, or…”
His silence forces me to discard the books. The look on his face makes me regret that decision. Somehow, in the span of only a few seconds, his face has aged several years, his eyes even deeper: hollow, black pits of decayed optimism. “It’s not my style,” he says blankly. “Her stories are too simple for me.”
“Really?” I ask. “I don’t mean to be intrusive, but… Surely, at least one of the other kids would maybe have stayed here with you, or…”
“No. No, that…” His hands curl into fists, clutching his covers tightly. Head trembling into a shake, he says, low as a whisper, “No, they would not.”
A cold fire is lit in my chest, engulfing my beatless heart. I recognize that expression on his face. I know exactly what it is. I’ve seen it many times before in the mirror, returned with equal apathy. My voice as empty as his, I say, almost placatingly, “You don’t like them, do you?”
He turns his face to the window, to the garden outside. “They don’t understand. None of them have anything in common with me. All they want to do is play and skip class and imagine what they’ll do once they get out of here. No thoughts about anything grander. Don’t they know what’s out there? I tried to make an effort, at first. I really did. But they refused to humor me.” His voice sinks to that of a whisper. “They hate me.”
I move closer to the bed. “Why do they hate you?”
“They aren’t clever like me. Not even Otte or Fria-lynn can comprehend the books I read. And some of them—” His voice gets thick, almost on the cusp of cracking. “They—they envy me, because I never have to do the chores. How ridiculous. Imagine it—envying me for my fermentation, rather than pitying me! Is it so unthinkable that I, too, might have liked to run in the forest? To climb the trees, pretending to be an animal?”
“No, of course not,” I say.
“Well, if they shall not pity me, then I shall not pity them for their witlessness! Let them have their frivolous classes and do their mindless chores; let them listen to the goddess’ childish tales—I will have none of it!” Almost to the point of shouting, I can’t say I’m surprised when he starts coughing, his thin little body convulsing with the pain and effort of soothing his own throat. “Have cruelty at them,” he grunts out through gritted teeth. “Have cruelty at them all…!”
Now, I’m almost at the foot of his bed. “But, surely—”
The door suddenly swings open, the rush of footsteps heralding someone’s arrival. “What’s all this shouting—”
I spin around to find Glyph’s face contorting into shock and horror as she, in turn, finds my face moving into what I hope is an expression of pleasant surprise. “Oh, Glyph!” I say, as friendly as I can. “How nice to see you! I would like to thank you for letting me sleep in the house yesterday, and—”
With speed so impressive she might as well have teleported, she flashes inside the room, squeezing herself into the space between me and the bed, her back to it and her sword drawn and ready. Pointed right at me, of course. I feel the energy drain from me. What else did I expect?
“BACK!!” she screams, way louder than necessary. A wave of the sword cements that—unlike our match in the tutournament—now, she’s fully ready to use it. “GET BACK, DAMN IT!!”
Since I’m an obliging sort of fellow, I do as she says, backing away. “No need to shout,” I say placatingly. “Most of us are adults here, we can talk like normal people.”
“Shut it! Get out of here, now!”
Before I can answer her, a little voice pipes up from behind her, slightly hoarse, saying, “Oh, miss human! This is the human of whom I spoke—the human who—”
“Later!” she screeches at him. “Please—please, if you can finally understand what I’m saying, then please take this later, I don’t have my dictionary, and I’m trying to save your life, so please please please don’t be difficult right now!”
Peeking out from behind her, I can see his face, confused, but not surprised.
I smile at him. “She’ll talk to you later, okay? For now, she wants me to leave, and she has good reason to, so… Bye, Lett! It was nice meeting again, and I hope we’ll talk more at another time.”
While Glyph seethes with the implications of my words, Lett mimics my smile. “Bye, mister!”
Holding my hands up, nice and visible—see? no danger—I back out of the room, turn around, and head for the stairs.
…This place is just full of surprises, huh?
