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SSD 5.12 - Possibly Breakfast

We return to your regularly scheduled episode of the "Overdramatic Dungeon"...



Long lived are the scars which we inflict upon ourselves. To forgive others is often easier, for we understand that they are merely mortal. Ourselves, however, well surely we must hold ourselves to a higher standard than mere mortal men. Remember, that you, too, are merely mortal. Forgive yourself, and allow the old wounds to heal, rather than treasuring your wound and hurt forever. When the darkness rises up, come to us, for we shall help you unburden, so that your darkness does not fester, nor linger as a shroud upon your homes and loved ones. You are not alone, nor the only one scarred.

-Leoanthus Porturas, mind healer, in a speech to soldiers returning after the Bieworthen War.

==Tarrae==

“Hey, Zidaun bought food, come down quick!” Gurek said, knocking on my door, and then running off.

Beside me, Norana stirred as I summoned a ball of light.

“Ugh, too early,” she groaned.

“It’s really not,” I said, smiling.

She sat up, the short hair tousled and sticking up where it had been rubbing against the pillow, and she blew a strand of it out of her eyes. The blanket barely covered her breasts, suggesting at the supple flesh beneath.

Sadly, my eyes were drawn away when she gestured toward the window.

“What do you mean? Still dark outside.”

I looked at the eternal darkness outside, now disturbed with pools of light where adventurer’s moved and camped. Then I turned my eyes back to her, drinking in her face: the short nose and brilliant eyes.

“Well, yes…” I said, drawing out the word even as I raised an eyebrow, “it would be.”

It took her sleep saturated mind a moment, but then she raised one up to touch her forehead, massaging it.

“Right, right, too ear- too tired, for this shit.”

She yawned and I joined her a moment later.

A subtle scent started to fill the room. A mixture of spices, honey, oil, and roasted meat, all mixed together.

“Apparently there is breakfast waiting for us,” I said. “Though it might only be breakfast for us. I think we overslept.”

“Good, we deserve it. Anyone that has a problem with it can ride Shurum’s icy shaft, for all I care.”

“Pretty sure that wasn’t the shaft you’ve been worried about.”

She shoved me as I laughed.

“Yeah, yeah… bed a man and suddenly they are so proud of theirs, like it isn’t something every man has.”

I nodded sagely.

“Of course, of course,” I said, “but I’m pretty sure not every man had used his tongue to make you say-”

“Okay, fine,” she cut me off, getting slightly red in the face, “you have a skilled tongue. Now help me find my clothes.”

I wisely took the win and didn’t pursue it further.

My tongue has gotten me into quite enough trouble already…

She moved and the blanket slipped down her form, pooling in a caress around her waist, and exposing pale skin that shone like a pure tallow candle in the gentle flicker of my spell.

Though it has also gotten into some delightful places… And I think I am hungry for something other than breakfast.

Before I could get too lost in reverie, my stomach grumbled in disagreement, and she chivied me into action with a laugh. The next minute saw blankets moved, checks behind furniture, until eventually we found everything and proceeded to dress.

Honestly, I was half surprised she hadn’t insisted on bringing her new shield in here, instead of leaving it in her room.

Still need to get that looked at.

We would need to get back into the dungeon, soon, no matter what might have happened.

Still have a job to do, assuming the Adventurer’s Guild doesn’t fire me.

With the public forgiveness of the dungeon… they probably wouldn’t, at least not until they understood the situation better, and at that point, they would likely have forgotten.

And wasn’t meeting Caden and Exsan mind blowing.

The room was in disarray, but at least we looked more or less presentable. At least I thought so, but Norana took a few extra moments to array her hair in some sense of order in front of the mirror. She looked at my hair critically too, but did no more than swipe her hands through it for a few moments before muttering something I didn’t catch.

Best not to ask.

We walked down the hall, then headed downstairs, ignoring the delicate woodwork that had become part of the scenery.

We were the last to arrive, apparently Anaath was out, and were greeted by a whistle from Soara, as well as a cheer from Gurek, which prompted laughs from the others. Judging by the fact they had yet to start eating, I was fairly certain Gurek was just cheering because this meant he could eat now.

We joined the table, the wooden chairs creaking faintly as we sat down.

Plates and utensils were already set at each place, and food sat waiting on leaves.

“Yes, Gurek, you can eat,” Zidaun said, as he rolled his eyes. “Obviously that goes for the rest of you as well.”

Food was divided and portions taken as we selected from all the offerings… which was a challenge. In addition to a ridiculously large roasted drumstick, there was honeyed fried dough on a stick, some kind of battered and fried meat sticks, fried rice with ugata peppers, fried Trikac, at least three different types of meat pie, and more.

Ultimately, I tried as much as I could, occasionally popping one of the tiny fried Trikac into my mouth, the exoskeleton crunching between my teeth, releasing a burst of savory to mix with the numbing peppery spice on the outside.

Ugh, I overate.

And yes, somehow, I had still eaten less than Gurek.

Think I might have eaten less than half what he ate.

The other members of my team watched with a similar morbid fascination as the skinny man ate what seemed enough to fill his entire midsection.

Where does he even put it?

Despite his apparently endless appetite, there was still lots of food left when he finally declared himself full.

“Do you think you could keep all this cold, Firi?” Zidaun said. “If we packaged it back up and piled it into one of the cabinets, maybe?”

Firi nodded slowly, his eyes distant.

“Maybe, but you should bring the temperature of the food down first. If I do it, it will probably flash freeze, and that might damage some things.”

Zidaun nodded, and together we all started to package up what remained, tying the leaves back up with the twine. The things I packaged were quite tidy, years of tying up parcels for customers remaining in the memory of my fingers, which nimbly pushed everything into order with little thought. The others were messier, except Gurek, who packages were just as neat as my own.

Right, parents have a restaurant.

With his personality, I’d just expected them to be barely contained balls of leaves desperately wrapped around with twine.

Wouldn’t be scouting if he wasn’t competent.

Sometimes, being around him, that was easy to forget, as he mostly seemed like an overeager child.

Still, I had worked hard to even be considered for the scouting teams, so I knew the kind of work ethic he must have, even if you would never guess from what he said.

Just like the dungeon, don’t take appearances to heart.

Honestly, probably a good rule for everything in life, but surprisingly challenging when it comes to people.

Some of the rude customers that had come into the shop floated to the top of my mind.

Okay, perhaps not that surprising. Sometimes that judgment comes very fast.

We all packed the bundles into a cabinet, before Zidaun stood in front of it for a moment, concentrating. Mist started to boil into the air around the cabinet, and clung to the exterior wood in a sheen of condensation.

“Okay, should be good,” he said. “Go ahead and take over Firi.”

Firi nodded, and pressed one of his hands against the cabinet, closing his eyes. Bluish white light spilling out from around his hands in a nimbus of cold power.

“It’s done. Should last a couple days, at least. I’ll be sure to check on it, at least if we don’t end up dong something like that forest again.”

A few of us nodded.

Never know when you might be out longer.

“Hey, Tarrae,” Zidaun said, “can I talk with you a moment?”

“What, oh, sure,” I said, nodding.”

We went off to a side room for a moment.

Zidaun looked at me, his posture tense, awkward, limbs canted at slightly off angles.

“I know we’ve been over everything, and that we are both sorry…” he said, then shook himself slightly. “Still, it was… bad, for all of us. I know you have your team, but if you ever need to talk, I’ll be here.”

Zidaun ran his fingers through his hair, the branching fern structures compressing between his fingers before springing back apart, swaying afterward like a forest floor in the breeze.

“Everything went wrong, all at once,” Zidaun said. “And then it was fixed the same way.”

Zidaun smiled for a moment, a true smile that almost seemed to radiate from him. I half expected to start sensing light manifest around him.

“Things were fixed to better than they were before, in some ways…” he continued, like me and Norana, “but, that doesn’t fix the damage to everything. So if you need to talk, or need help with anything, let me know. The dungeon, they… well they care more than I would have expected. I’m not exactly trying to live up to that, but I do want to do what I can.”

Zidaun scrubbed his fingers through his hair again, before stopping in gripping it for a moment.

“Not sure I’m even making sense.”

I took a moment, to think, to process.

“No,” I said, “I think I understand. I had a chance to think, a lot, when I was waiting, for… you know.” He nodded. “Wasn’t much to do except think. Certainly I had a chance to review my actions, and think about everything I ignored. I let my desire for things to be better blind me to potential consequences. I thought about my family, how it was going to impact them…”

I trailed off for a moment.

Not sure I will ever stop feeling guilty for that. Or having nightmares about how bad things could have been. My entire family could have paid the price.

“It would have been easy to be mad at you, to rage, but you offered to shield my family, as much as you could. It was hard to hate you, after that.” Even it would have been so much easier. “Especially after you pointed everything out. It was obvious, after, that some people already knew, beyond just the Adar.” Easier then to just hate myself. I’m sure many of your secrets are known and simply kept locked away in some confidential documents. The world cannot afford to live without your help.”

Could have been so much more than my family, an entire nation, if not more.

“And, I saw the look on Anaath’s face, when he learned what I had done… He was ready to kill me himself, and then spit on my corpse. I doubt many of your people would have tried to show mercy at all.”

The Adar guards weren’t pleased, either, though they are least seemed to hold onto discipline.

Zidaun simply waited for me to continue, when my words paused.

“If I need something, I’ll ask. I don’t know what else to say, though…” I scratched at my stubble, awkwardly standing in front of him.

Zidaun simply nodded.

“That is fine, I just wanted to make sure you knew I was willing to help, should it ever be needed. I’m glad for you and Norana, though.” Zidaun smiled at the end. “And I have to go talk to Firi, as well.”

I grinned at him, and hit him on the shoulder.

“Yeah, I’ve seen you two circling around each other. Why the hells haven’t you done anything more yet? You both look like love sick teens, all slogi eyed.”

Zidaun blushed, with a faint hint of green rising below his dark skin.

“Yeah, yeah,” he said, trying to wave me off, “I know. There were just… complications, but I’m going to resolve that. I can do that now.”

I looked at him flatly for a moment.

“And now I know you are truly not human. If you can deal with that what are you standing around talking to me for. Off with you!”

Zidaun grinned at me again, and just after Norana and I had grabbed the shield to go get it finally appraised, I saw him and Firi disappear into Zidaun’s rooms.

Good for him.

Comments

Tarrae is having some mental issues probably done some ptsd, he did almost die and almost be the cause for the death of a lot of people. Though I think Gurek got a bit Scot free in my opinion. He is the one who gave the item.

bbk


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