Chapter 3: Talentless - Chapter 3

The arrow struck true, piercing deep into the unfortunate monster’s brittle skull and through its limited brain. The ugly little creature slumped over, dead as a plank of wood. A brief moment of pregnant silence followed, then the screams began. Rayden ignored the hysteria and readied another arrow...until Jim suddenly leaped off the hill.

“What the fuck?” He cried out, watching in disbelief as the eccentric elf sailed through the air.

Just before impact, Jim dove into a perfectly timed roll, tumbled down several feet, then pulled in his legs at the last moment and sprang off the hillside with his crossbow extended. A bolt flew out from the small but deadly contraption, striking a wide-eyed goblin right in the chest.

“Huzzah!” Jim shouted in triumph.

Rayden was mortified, but also impressed.

Unfortunately, Jim’s landing was less than glorious. He crashed down onto a conspicuously thin patch of dirt and fell straight through into a pit. The goblins had been using the shovel for more than just games.

Cunning little fuckers, Rayden reminded himself. Thankfully, a pit was about as much of a hindrance to an Attuned as a goblin.

As Jim leaped out of the trap on empowered legs, Quill ran into the camp and blasted a goblin with a bright blue flash of pure mana. Her unfortunate target didn’t even get to scream before its torso was vaporized. Rayden wasn’t surprised to learn she was a mage—an Attuned who manifested their mana into direct magic. He sniped another with a well-timed arrow straight to the face.

By now, the creatures had grabbed their spears and were frantically attempting to rally a defense, but the onslaught was just beginning. A flying hammer caved in a pasty skull, then Ivy charged forward with her jade gauntlets raised and smashed another foe into green paste. Jim put a bolt through a beady eye, just as Quill put a hole through a frantic goblin’s chest.

Rayden had expected them to succeed without too much trouble, but this was an outright slaughter. He continued watching the massacre in awe, until he remembered the dagger he was supposed to be getting vengeance with.

Oh fuck.

He recalled the smith’s haunted expression and realized that if he didn’t act now, it would be etched in memories forever.

Dammit.

He counted four goblins left, surrounded by four imposing Attuned warriors. Time was running out.

Fuck, I’m gonna look just like that strutting asshole.

Eschewing his pride, Rayden began sprinting down the hill like a man possessed, rapidly burning mana to keep his footing on the tough terrain.

“Save one for me,” he shouted out into the chaos. “Or at least for Rick!”

Jim didn’t seem to hear his plea as he made a show of gleefully dancing around an enraged goblin before drilling it in the head. Boh and Ivy continued their bloodshed as well, quickly felling a straggler each. Thankfully, Quill met his eyes just in time to lower her staff before blasting their final ugly victim.

Seizing the opportunity, Rayden ripped his borrowed dagger from its sheath, arched back his arm, then burned the last of his mana for a big surge of strength. The dagger catapulted through the air in a whirling blur of steel, arcing just high enough to embed itself into the last standing goblin’s eye with a bloody squelch.

Rayden felt a wave of relief, right until he lost his balance and tumbled down the last ten feet of the hill. With little mana left to brace his fall, his finale was a bumpy and painful slide.

“Fuck, I’m no better than him,” he groaned into the dry earth a moment later.

“A spirited effort, Rayden!” Jim smiled, offering him a hand. “Not the greatest landing I’ve seen, but a hell of a throw.”

“Thanks.”

Rayden reluctantly accepted Jim’s offer and rose to his feet, looking around at the bloody mess his party had caused. Small green and brown bodies—or what was left of them—were strewn around the camp, panic still lingering in their dead eyes. He’d fought goblins around the Rim before, but never this effortlessly. Rayden knew he was a bit of an exception himself, but most Talentless Attuned shouldn’t be this fearsome. They had eviscerated the poor green brutes.

He had been suspicious before, but now he was almost certain that his companions were more powerful than they pretended.

After retrieving the smith’s dagger and wiping off a coating of goblin blood, Rayden joined the others just beyond the camp, glancing furtively at the shimmering gate about fifty feet away.

Rayden caught Quill’s eye and nodded his gratitude.

“Thanks for letting me get the last one. I…wanted to report back to the poor kid in good conscience.”

“No problem,” she smiled softly, wiping sweat off her wispy brow. “I appreciated you and Boh trying to help him, even if the dwarves' methods were… a tad uncouth.”

“Thanks, Quill. You know, I think Boh has a good heart.”

“Eh,” she shrugged, then her lips curved into a smile as she arched an eyebrow mischievously.

“Quite a fancy move at the end there, by the way. Is it just me, or is Jim's whimsy rubbing off on you?”

“I hope not,” he snorted. “Please forgive that unsightly display.”

“It wasn’t so bad,” she said, curling a finger in her hair.

“Really? Because I found it to be truly humiliating.”

“It was acceptable because you did it for the kid,” Quill said with a shrug. “Our buffoon of a rogue just did it for posterity.”

They shared a laugh, and he was tempted to mention that the concentration of mana she had blasted the goblin with was suspiciously large for someone without a Talent, but he held back. Instead, he observed Boh walking over to Ivy, who was now quietly studying the gate.

“Hey, lass,” the dwarf intoned, poking her in the abs because of the height difference. “Nice brawling!”

Ivy looked down at the brash man as if he were an insect, and for a moment, he was afraid Boh was going to be squashed into a dwarf pancake. Thankfully, she was inexpressive as always.

“Dwarf?”

“That I am,” he grinned. “Say, I have a question for you, on account of my curiosity as a craftsman...”

Ivy showed not a single shred of interest, but Boh continued undeterred.

“I can tell you’re a Cultivator, but those mighty fine gauntlets look stronger than a dragon’s tooth. Enchanted?”

Rayden had suspected as much, but had been scared to ask. Unfortunately, Ivy wasn’t very forthcoming.

“None of your business,” she said plainly.

“Fair enough,” the dwarf shrugged. He sauntered over to where everyone else was standing and whispered, “She can only resist the dwarven charm for so long. I may be little more than a squirrel in her eyes, but I’m gonna climb that tree one day.”

“You’re quite the spunky little fellow,” Jim winked.

The narrative has been taken without permission. Report any sightings.

Quill gave the dwarf a disapproving stare, not content to be treated like one of the boys.

“I hope the tree can withstand the weight of such a hefty dwarf.”

The dwarf laughed, but a look in his eye spelled trouble.

“You're beautiful Quilly, but you’re not exactly a dainty lass yourself.”

Rayden suddenly found himself turned into a human shield, caught in between a squirrly dwarf and an angry woman with a staff. He smiled despite the chaos, pleased that everyone was letting down their guards a bit. But as much as he enjoyed the mischief, there was an extremely important discussion to be had.

“What do you think, guys?” Rayden called out, reluctantly projecting his voice. “The gate is real, but we have no idea what’s causing the excess mana.”

He waited a few moments until everyone's attention was back in order.

“And yet, if we don’t deal with this, Penrith isn’t going to survive.”

“We could inform the baron,” Quill suggested. “They would only need to send a Talented or two to complete it safely.”

Though he could tell she meant it earnestly, that answer just about confirmed she was no common woman. Anyone who travelled the Rim knew better. Rayden scoffed at Jim, the supposed slum dog, who was just standing there with a dumb smile as if Quill had made perfect sense.

“It would be nice if that were how things worked,” Rayden sighed. “We’d be lucky to even convince them of the gate, let alone get a Talented out here in time to save the town in time. We're already two days out from a break…”

“Oh…is it truly that difficult to get someone out here?”

“Of course, Quill,” Jim said with a vigorous nod. “You can’t trust those sleazy nobles!”

“Yes,” Rayden answered, ignoring the charlatan.

He did his best to hide his exasperation and took a deep breath.

Who the fuck are these people?

Rayden had been hoping that Ivy would take the lead again, but she was just staring at him, like a mage studying a book. He was going to have to just come out and say it.

“Look, I’m going to be honest with you guys. Even though that gate is a fucking aberration, even though it means getting wrapped up in something that might be bigger than us, I want to do it,” he confessed. “I need this.”

As much as he feared the consequences, the reward was too valuable for him to pass up.

“If anyone found out, we could all be hanged,” Quill mused, though she didn’t seem particularly bothered. “But I do think we should help the town. I trust your word about the baron Rayden, but why is it so important to you personally?”

“I’ll never get my Talent without it,” Rayden admitted, sounding a little more emotional than he intended.

He felt the eyes of his companions focus on him, and he knew he was in for a difficult conversation. Rayden normally avoided talking about his past at all costs, but he supposed if he wanted them to recklessly clear a dungeon together, adding some context was the least he could do.

“Why?” Ivy finally said. “You possess the skill necessary for sponsorship."

Pleased by the compliment, he opened his mouth to respond, but hesitated when he felt the taste of bile in the back of his throat. A long-festering and deeply personal anger was bubbling up from his stomach, re-awakened by the prospect of getting his Talent and, at long last, taking a step forward toward long-awaited revenge.

“Because I fucking despise the merchant guilds,” he spat. “I’ll die a proud idiot before I take a sponsorship, and I won’t kneel before a noble either. It’s not completely rational, and I don’t expect you to understand…but this is something that will never change. I just can’t.”

Quill tilted her head, twirling a stand of orange hair as she examined him carefully. Jim and Ivy both looked curious, and unexpectedly, Boh seemed to approve, giving him a look that felt like newfound respect.

“Aye, I’ll drink to that,” the dwarf proclaimed, before doing exactly that. “Fuck ‘em.”

“With that said, I selfishly hope you’ll still help me,” Rayden continued. “You’re all suspiciously powerful, no offense. I feel like I'm the orphan in a fairy tale who stumbles his way into meeting a princess and going off on a grand adventure…”

Rayden looked up after a moment of silence, having expected at least a chuckle. All he saw were different shades of red, even a hint of scarlet on Ivy’s gruff features.

“It's a lot more complicated than that,” he thought he heard Boh mumble.

He short-circuited for a few seconds, eventually choosing to believe that their guilty expressions were based on the principle, and not the literal implications.

“To be clear, I’m not asking for your identities,” he offered. “I just want to borrow your power. However, I understand if you bail. I’m about to give the kingdom a gigantic fuck-you, and I don’t want to bring in anyone with me who doesn’t understand the consequences.”

Rayden crossed his arms and tried to look as calm as possible, awaiting their decisions. He had said as much as he was willing, and had been glad to get that much off his chest.

Quill looked lost in thought. Boh tapped his hammer against his palm. Jim’s convivial grin disappeared for just a moment.

Ivy spoke first, her liquid green eyes boring into his.

“Once you have your talent, what’s next?”

Rayden blinked, surprised by the question. He wasn’t sure if she was implying something or just genuinely curious. Truthfully, he had just allowed himself to start thinking of that in the past hour. After his mother’s death, Rayden had sworn revenge against the guild that had slowly ground her to dust, as well as the baron who allowed it under his venal watch.

Back then, he’d imagined himself not just traveling the Rim as a righteous adventurer helping the needy, but also as a man biding his time, a gathering storm who never forgot the vows he’d made before the sky. Unfortunately, when he learned that getting his Talent was nearly impossible without guild help, he had gradually given up on the latter half of his dream.

Yet now, it was once again within reach, and his old ambitions were coming back to life. He suddenly remembered being alone in the forest, just after he had run away from his uncle, sitting in the middle of a thunderstorm. That night, he had looked upon the sky with jealousy.

He had wished to become a man who is thoughtful and kind, but with a wrath like lightning. A soft-spoken man who boomed like thunder. A man as gentle as a breeze, but who howled like the wind when his back was against the wall. A man who stormed across the kingdom with impunity.

He stared back at Ivy, embracing the amazoness’s cold curiosity.

“More of this is next,” he said finally, gesturing around them. “I’ll continue to help people like those in Penrith, because I enjoy it and it makes me feel good. I hate the greed and injustice that litters our kingdom like trash, and I hate the trash who let it happen.”

He swiveled his head, making eye contact with each member of the prospective party.

“If the chance to get revenge comes, then I’ll take it. But I’ll do it my way. If you help me, you won’t be making a monster. Whatever Talent the gods gift me, I’ll wield it with restraint and carve my path across this wretched kingdom as nobly as I can. I don’t care if it sounds trite, that’s what I want.”

As he finished his impromptu speech, Rayden felt embarrassment begin to creep in. He had just bared his soul to four people he met a couple of days ago and spoken like a hero in a story.

“Interesting,” Ivy said flatly, then unceremoniously began walking towards the ephemeral gate. “Let’s go.”

“What?”

“I’m in,” Quill smiled. “Us noble princesses can’t let our little hero go into the dungeon all alone, now can we?”

He blushed at that, and her smile grew wider.

“Aye, you’re making me feel like a man of legend with all that talk,” Boh agreed. “They’ll call me Boh, the fat and greedy dwarf who stole from even fatter and greedier tyrants, then gave back everything but the ale he took to the poor!”

He took out his flagon and downed a big gulp, swaggering the whole time.

“Even if you do become a monster, Rayden, I’ve no doubt you’ll make for an interesting specimen,” Jim said nonsensically, marching toward the gate.

“Uh, sure, Jim, I’ll do my best.”

Quill hung back for a moment as the others followed Ivy’s lead.

“You speak well,” she said quietly. “I hope you meant what you said. I plan to hold you to it.”

He looked at her, nodded, then realized she was brushing his shoulder with her hand. Rayden had wondered if he was getting certain...signals...on their way down to Penrith, but this was the clearest one yet.

“Thank you. I don’t think I’d mind that,” he said carefully.

She grinned slyly, then hurried off to join the others.

Rayden stood still for a moment, wondering if he had just imagined that interaction, before eventually following her towards the glimmering door of destiny.

He was beset by all sorts of confusing emotions but tried to focus on gratitude. Four strangers he’d known for just a couple of days of travel had just pledged themselves to his cause like knights of legend.

His fortunes had changed, and somehow, he’d earned a chance to get his Talent.

His distant dream was suddenly tantalizing within reach. He’d never imagined it would come to pass, and he’d never imagined ending up a part of such a bizarre quintet, but he suspected his mother would have approved of his new companions.

It was a fantastic reminder of something he had forgotten while traveling alone for so long; righting the world’s wrongs did not have to be a solitary endeavor. He had no idea if these new bonds would last for more than just another day, but he sincerely hoped they could become true friends, especially he and Quill.

But he liked all of them, even the ever inscrutable Jim, so much so that he was willing to overlook the fact that all four of those dubious bastards had not expressed the slightest excitement at the prospect of getting their own Talents.

Duplicitous assholes…