Callings (Closed)

[Lechies Degrantine]

Lechies watched, bemused, as Malcolm commanded his steed and the bandits for their march out of the cave. Her interactions with noble knights of the land had been few and brief, though she didn't think any of them had carried themselves with the absolute authority that Malcolm did. Perhaps it was a trait that came with his venerable age. Or his state of undeath.

In any case, Lechies was glad for his anchoring presence as she finally stepped out into true freedom. It had been so long since she'd felt the wash of sun-warmth on her face that the simple joy of it nearly brought her to tears. She had to pause for a moment just to bask, eagerly breathing in the scent of the outdoors—rich, earthy, and sorely missed.

Ristgir's light shone down from an impossibly blue sky, verdant hills rising and falling into the horizon like waves of the sea. The approaching winter had yet to touch this far south, but there was a certain crispness to the air that burned pleasantly on her cheeks. Lechies, overwhelmed by sensations she never thought she'd feel again, had to stick close to Malcolm's back so she didn't walk herself off the switchbacks in a daze.

At the sound of his voice, Lechies snapped back into her own shoes. She blinked away her awe; sorrow settled in its place.

"The bandits' latest victims," she murmured. "I... I would dearly love a bath," she gave a weak laugh before sobering quickly, "but seeing to the dead must come first. Anything else can wait."

Up ahead, if Rake and his fellows could hear their conversation, they showed no outward signs. Lechies supposed that once they reached flat ground, the bandits would simply make a run for it before their ghostly conqueror could change his mind.

[Malcolm Rhodes]

Malcolm nodded solemnly. "New citizens, I have an offer for you," he called out loudly, but without command, to the bandits just before they reached the end of the path. "Help us bury the dead, killed by brutal bandits nearby. I will promise you a safe escort to the near town, a bath, a meal, and then you might go on your way."

The bandits stopped, visibly flinching at his voice. The two others turned to Rake, still clearly seeing him as the leader. There was a moment of silence before the man cupped his hands to his mouth.

"Aye, fuck you, but we’ll help. If you were going to gut us, you wouldn’t have wasted the spells to heal us just to do it out here," Rake shouted back up the switchback and then started back up. "We’ll need to get some more shovels, some other stuff after if we can," he said as he got close enough to talk more normally.

Malcolm adjusted his estimation of the man. It was clear he had been the leader for a reason, even if he had no troubles stabbing a fellow in the back. "Fair, we will wait for you at the bottom, please do not delay over long with the tools. If the wagon is in repair it would be prudent to use it."

He knew his temporary ward would likely not appreciate such casual use of the dead’s belongings, but difficult times called for difficult measures. "I promised Healer Leiches I would give you a second chance. I mean to keep that promise and hope you do the same."

Rake nodded, his thoughts ticking quickly behind his eyes. "Can we get the- the others and bring them out too?"

"Of course, they deserve to be buried. I would guess the offer would have extended to them as well. Do you need help?" Malcolm sounded genuine as he asked the question.

"Nah, got a sled and I’d rather you not touch ‘em at this point," Rake responded. Malcolm chuckled darkly, appreciating the former-bandit’s honest directness. He stepped aside, shielding Leiches but allowing the bandits to pass.

"We will wait at the bottom, be wary of the sun, I do not wish to approach town in the dead of night. It will draw too much suspicion onto you and ruin any chances." Malcolm said over his shoulder as he started again down the ramp.

[Lechies Degrantine]

The path smoothed out onto even ground shortly after Malcolm set the bandits to their task. There was little else to do now besides wait for their return. No complaints there, though; her freedom returned to her, Lechies had all the time in the world. She found herself a nice seat upon the roots of a nearby tree and amused herself with watching the dappled branch-shade waver in the breeze.

It was perhaps too nice a seat, because within minutes she caught herself starting to drift off into slumber, the end of her staff slipping sideways in the dirt where she'd planted it. Lechies righted herself with a hard blink, then glanced up along the hillside. What with the punitive blow Malcolm had dealt their gang, the bandits would surely be gone a while...

"Sir Malcolm," Lechies called softly, trying not to startle him in case he was in the middle of a warrior's meditation, "I'd like to know more about my rescuer, if you don't mind. What was it that brought you to these hills? Do you regularly patrol the land in search of wrongs to set right?"

It had presumably been his solemn duty in life, and one he could not relinquish even after death. Esyrax should be proud to have so stalwart a champion.

"Also, I have to say," she smiled as she looked to Typhoon, the magnificent animal ever so slightly see-through in the afternoon light, "I've never seen a ghost animal before. Granted, I haven't had many dealings with ghosts in the first place. They don't tend to require a healer's services very often."

Lechies' smile broadened a little at her own silly joke.

[Malcolm Rhodes]

Malcolm had found his mind wandering as soon as the dangers moved back into the cave. He felt the warmth of the sun, heard the soft pawing of Typhoon, and felt the cool touch of the winter’s breeze on his face. It was not the sun of today he felt though, but one of a hundred patrols. Rides through the lands around the compound that had been so frequent as to blend together in their normalcy.

When Lechies spoke to him he twitched, restraining his surprise to the singular tiny action as he was suddenly yanked back to the present. He listened to her stoically, hoping she hadn’t noticed his drifting thoughts.

When she made a joke, he couldn’t help but be reminded of the equally poor ones made by his companions during training. He let loose a deep and hearty laugh and shook his head as a rush of past mirth overcame him.

When he’d wiped a non-existent tear from his eye, he looked at her more seriously. “These hills?” he hemmed as he looked around. “I have never seen them before in my life or death, but yes, my days involved many a patrol in similar places.” He sounded proud of his time spent.

Then his expression darkened and his voice fell. "Though I could not point on a map and tell you where.” The needling thought of a life wasted and an order ruined itched at the back of his thoughts. He pushed the looming dread down and pressed on.

“We sought to ensure the safety of the lands for the scholars, who oft as not couldn’t see the road for the book on their nose,” he added, reflexively pantomiming the action with his hands. “As for Typhoon, he is a noble creature. They say that a task left undone can be enough to create a spirit.”

He looked to the charger with a knowing wink. “I think he might have wanted to make sure I’d still give him carrots.” The horse snorted derisively and stomped a hoof. “Right, forgive me, I meant to say he has noble deeds yet undone.”

Typhoon shook his head and snorted again, making Malcolm chuckle. “You know, I was a healer in my youth as well. I had a knack for it, they said. Watching my allies fall, only to fix them up when they were pulled back- Well, I couldn’t bring myself to be a healer alone.”

Malcolm’s eyes went distant again as the memory of the many arguments his choice had caused rattled about in his thoughts. He shook his head and locked eyes with Leiches. “Never lose sight of why you heal. No matter what happens, that spark is what makes you truly special.” He sounded in that moment much like an elder passing down wisdom of a life hard spent.

[Lechies Degrantine]

A guardian in the truest sense, then. An order dedicated to the protection of learned persons—Lechies hadn't heard of such a group before, but even for all her travels up and down the continent, she would be the first to admit there remained much she didn't know. If recent events were any indication, it would be in her interest to seek out such an order for her next journey.

Typhoon's apparent indignation had Lechies' face blossom into a full grin, though the sentiment faded as a shadow seemed to fall over Malcolm's face. It was gone as quickly as a leaf on the wind however, and then he was speaking to her in a manner so solemn and.... fatherly that Lechies was suddenly reminded of Nolan.

She missed him. Only a year had gone by since his passing, but the moment was so unexpected that she couldn't reply right away, too busy with wrestling her emotions back into submission. Lechies had made it out of captivity without breaking; this would not be why she finally shed tears.

Once she trusted her voice not to tremble, Lechies drew her knees to her chest and peered up at the canopy.

"I hope I never do. Lose sight of my purpose, that is. I've wanted to help others as long as I can remember. I..." She lifted her hand, running her fingers lightly over the scars around her right eye. "I lost my family when I was very young. We were merchants, I think—I'm not sure. But whatever the case, brigands caught us on the road, and they were merciless. Only my friend Sorrick and I survived.

"The man we would come to call Uncle found and rescued us. Not a small act of kindness, what he did. More than saving us, he gave us our lives back. Fed and sheltered us, opened up his home, granted us his family name. Inspired my enthusiasm for magic."

Lechies' voice was warm as she recalled those years. She toyed with the sun pendant hanging from her neck.

"I carry his compassion with me always. Doing what I can for those who most need succor—this is my way of repaying him, and honoring the Eidolons who allowed me this second chance at life. Just as they were my light in the dark, I hope to be that light to others."

She paused, then chuckled, shaking her head.

"Though, I do seem to have some horrendous luck when it comes to bandits, don't I?"

[Malcolm Rhodes]

He listened to her, feeling a small torrent of emotions welling in his chest as she spoke of hardship and second chances. He understood the need to do right in the world, to repay the goodness offered by others.

He wished he could tell her it was all worth it, that the end would show the value of her works, but he had seen nothing of the afterlife, only the cold realization that his watch was unfinished. He laughed when she spoke of luck, placing a hand on her shoulder.

“That may be where you have erred; luck is not something you should rely upon, Healer Leiches,” he said with a grin and gentle squeeze of his hand. “Make your path and do so with unwavering conviction. The cosmos will find it easier to bend to your will than oppose you.”

He glanced up at the cave mouth and nodded his head. “Besides, I don’t see any bandits around. Only citizens with a difficult past shown compassion.” He released his hand and moved over to stroke Typhoon’s neck.

“They say when you die, that you go to the place you belong, the place you’ve earned,” he chuckled softly. “I’m not sure if I want that to be true anymore, but I’m here now and I don’t remember seeing Esyrax, or Ristgir, or anyone else.” Typhoon snorted softly and Malcolm moved his hand to scratch along the charger’s forehead.

“Perhaps I didn’t do enough good, or perhaps someone has to make sure there is always a Watcher,” he looked back to Leiches and grinned. “Do right by what you have, show others the light you carry, and one day prove this bitter old man wrong.”

He started to disperse slightly, the day taking its toll on his will. "I need to rest for a short while, but I am still here and can still speak," he said softly, suddenly sounding very tired. "Typhoon, keep watch and act if you must." With his order given, Malcolm exploded into rapidly fading mists.

[Lechies Degrantine]

His bodily departure left a scattering cloud of green shards twinkling in the sun. Lechies watched them flash and wink until they, too, dispersed into the cool afternoon, and she was left to consider her thoughts with only a curiously intelligent ghost horse in her frame of view.

'The place you've earned.' Remembering those words, melancholy pooled low in her stomach like sinking stones. She may have only glimpsed a fraction of the man Malcolm had been—and still was—and though she believed his methods needlessly violent, it was clear that the essence of him was one possessed of great integrity. He had done good, must have done tremendous good all throughout his life, and yet the powers that be still denied him his rest.

And it sounded as if he yearned for rest. To one of the undying, that was certainly something a wielder of Ristgir's light could offer, but... The very idea seemed a gross breach of conduct when he'd been the one to save her life. Without him, Lechies would still be at the bandits' mercy.

The whole affair was too much for a tired mind to dwell on. Taking from Malcolm's example, Lechies leaned back against the tree and closed her eyes. She let her head empty itself; she trusted that she was in safe hands if any dangers burst from the forest.

--

When she came out of her half-slumber, it was to the sound of wood rattling across the ground, announcing the former bandits' return. Jaiza raised a scarred hand in greeting as he approached; the other clutched a large bag. Recovered supplies, she assumed. Rake had a set of ropes over his shoulder, tugging a sled carefully over the grass, while Eun made sure not to let any of the bodies atop it slide off.

Lechies swallowed a yawn. "Hello again."

Rake's reply was barely a grunt. She couldn't fault him for his continued sour mood, not with his dead comrades piled behind him. He stopped the sled a fair distance from Typhoon, his gaze swinging from the horse to the rest of their surroundings. He frowned.

"Where's the other fella?"

"He's around," Lechies replied as she rose and dusted herself off. It was not a lie. Not that she thought Rake would try anything at this juncture, but it was good to keep all of them on the proper path now that they'd taken their first steps. "You remember the site of the attack, yes? Shall we head over?"

Eun nodded, though her eyes were still darting about for a sign of Malcolm. "Sure. No point wasting daylight. Got some extra shovels with us, too."

[Malcolm Rhodes]

Malcolm felt the immediate release of pressure inside his mind as his form scattered to the winds. He hovered there, watching Lechies rest and keeping an eye on the cave mouth with equal care. He remembered well the pull of exhaustion after a long day, but the feeling of tiredness he felt now was a purely mental sensation.

When the former-bandits returned, Typhoon tensed with readiness and Malcolm prepared himself to reform and intervene if necessary. Thankfully, nothing happened, and when the group made to move into the words towards the attack sight Typhoon drifted over and stopped beside the healer.

Whether he was offering his saddle, or simply a presence to lean on, was unclear and the charger made no sound to clarify. Malcolm drifted ahead, moving with the others but off to the side. He shifted around trees and hovered over bushes with little mind.

When they reached the site, he felt the faint burning of fury begin in his gut. He quelled it, crushing down with iron will, and felt a frown tug his invisible features. ‘She offered them a chance, that is all that matters,’ he shouted to his ire as he scanned the bodies and wagon from the distance.

[Lechies Degrantine]

Their arrival at the site of the attack startled the carrion birds into retreat, the creatures scattering off with squawks of protest. Lechies pretended not to see them resettle in the surrounding treetops, black splashes with beady eyes, watching and waiting from above. Instead she took the shovel that Jaiza handed her and got to work.

Burying the dead was awful business. Mostly because it usually signified, in some way, that Lechies had failed at her calling. Failed to suppress a raging sickness, failed to close a grievous wound, failed to properly defend an innocent in the absence of sturdier swords. Such incidents had mercifully been few throughout her life, but it always pained her, having to look upon a corpse clearly made before its time. 'You should have done better', would come the nagging whisper.

Logic reminded her that this incident was not her fault. But logic couldn't help the sting in her nostrils, nor could it soothe the ache building in her arms and shoulders. Malcolm's blessing was surely fading by now, and imprisonment had done her no favors. The promise of a proper bed seemed as far away as it ever had.

Still, with Rake and company looking ashen-faced and wet-eyed as they deposited their friends alongside their victims, Lechies supposed she had the least reason for self-pity. She hoped Rake would take her earlier lecture to heart, she really did.

By the time the graves were all covered, the sun was falling towards the horizon, throwing spears of golden light between the trees. The four of them were coated in sweat and dirt, though only Lechies found herself openly panting, hunched over with hands on knees. She had set aside her staff in a show of trust for her once-captors.

Besides, Typhoon was still there. And Malcolm, perhaps, somewhere.

Swallowing one last gulp of air, Lechies tore her gaze from the row of crude grave markers and onto the travelers' wagon. It was large enough to fit their strange group without worry of jostling elbows, and in good condition still. By Rake's assessment, the vehicle would move easily once it was hitched to a proper sized animal.

Speaking of.

"So," Rake drawled, wiping down his neck with his shirt collar, "what do we do now? Just... fucking call 'im over?"

He jerked his head at Typhoon. Wariness regarding the ghostly steed had never left Rake's eyes as they worked.

Nor Eun's, though hers glimmered more with ever-present fear. "I ain't going near 'im," she added.

Lechies straightened slowly with a wince, fists pressed against her back. She glanced up at the still-watching carrion crows, then called out to the greenery. "Malcolm? Are you about?"

[Malcolm Rhodes]

As he watched them move and work he felt a strange sense of longing. The odd desire to work with exhausted muscles to finish the days labors no matter how gruesome. The feeling that he was unable to help, trapped in his weakened state tore at him relentlessly. He needed to be stronger, more powerful, not suffering here like some weak-willed sop without the means to do what needed to be done.

He felt the tug of weakness the strongest when Leiches hunched to her knees. The woman who’d been kept without food or care was here doing the work he should be helping with. He felt a rush of burning anger overcome his self-pity. He heard her call and manifested instantly.

Malcolm appeared behind Rake, distant enough to not reach the man immediately, but near enough that his presence was felt. “I am, Healer Lechies. I apologize I was unable to assist with the digging, my- watch kept me occupied,” Malcolm said, his voice sounding vaguely threatening with the amount of emotion he was holding back.

Rake flinched visibly, his hand going to his belt on reflex, but he didn’t flee or try to attack, he just shook his head and frowned. “So, how’re we getting him hitched?” the former bandit asked with another motion to Typhoon. Malcolm nodded and moved over to Typhoon, lifting the harness and whistling to the charger. Typhoon snorted, shaking his head before exploding into mist and reappearing in the proper place. Malcolm moved around, expertly cinching the necessary attachments before looking to the others.

“We will ride to town, they will know me there, and it should pull attention away from your- previous profession.” Malcolm looked to them all and then stepped up into the driver’s bench. “Unless you have something further you need to do?”

Rake frowned for a moment before speaking to his companions, “Let’s grab our stuff, then we’ll be back here.” With that they moved off towards the cave, clearly exhausted but committed.

Malcolm watched them go and patted the bench beside him. “Come Lechies, I will heal you to soften my own feeling of failure,” he said lightly, clearly making a cutting joke at his own expense.