Technically, Ranthia knew she should head straight for Ranger Headquarters. She was late and she needed to report about her team. Gods, she shouldn’t have even tried to finish her round, she should have gone straight to Ariminum after Massilix. Her duty had driven her ever since then. But it faded in her heart as she arrived at Ariminum’s gates and let Vert off her back so they could join the queue.
Instead, once they got through the entry process with the town guard and got into Ariminum proper, she got Vert a room at the tavern she used sometimes and left her crate with the young woman… after she retrieved two specific items from it and shucked her armor.
Her plans and fantasies she had crafted on the road could rot. Some things shouldn’t be put off for some better theoretical perfect moment.
She was ready.
Hexara was at the salon, of course. Ranthia waited impatiently for Hexara to finish with her current customer, torn between nervousness and an unfair hatred for whoever the customer was. But, at last, an attractive woman walked by and a short time later… she emerged.
“Oh my goddess, Ranthia!? I was so worried about you! Your eyes, are you okay!?” Hexara squealed.
Gods and goddesses, she looked as incredible as ever. Ranthia was still a mess from the road, but… she couldn’t make herself wait for a bath. Hexara still hugged her enthusiastically.
“They’re okay. And I’m fine now. Sorry I worried you, my love.” Ranthia replied.
Everything made sense again. Ranthia’s burdens became lighter, as a small piece of her was restored by the embrace of the woman she loved.
Ranthia leaned in, seeking Hexara’s lips for a kiss.
…And Hexara hurriedly, and somewhat awkwardly, broke the hug. Ranthia’s beloved stepped a couple of steps away, looking flustered and uncomfortable.
Ranthia’s heart was breaking even before the woman spoke.
“Um, I… have some good news! I got married while you were gone.” Hexara announced with an uncomfortable smile on her face.
Hexara would never know how close she came to breaking her former lover right then and there, Ranthia promised herself. She had endured everything that she had gone through for Hexara’s sake, her dream of reuniting with her love and marrying her—leaving everything else behind. It was the dream that kept her going.
Yet clearly it had all been a lie. Something she told herself.
Of course it was. No fucking wonder the receptionist hadn’t returned after telling Hexara that someone was there to see her. Everyone else knew.
Despite her inner turmoil, Ranthia sculpted a broad smile on her face and poured a sound not entirely unlike cheer into her voice. Her smile would never reach her eyes, but thanks to her blindfold it didn’t have to.
“That’s great!” Ranthia lied.
She knew she should be happy for Hexara, if she truly loved her. She hadn’t taken complete leave of her senses; it was the right thing to do! Hexara was clearly happy. And yet, Hexara’s promise to wait for her and their shy confession of their love before Ranthia left continued to play through her mind. The words mocked her and fought to shatter the mask Ranthia wore over her true emotions.
Hexara took it as an invitation. With obvious relief and excitement, she began to talk about her wife. Apparently, they had been seeing each other since Ranthia was in the Ranger Academy. It had been casual and open… until suddenly it wasn’t. Mere seasons after Ranthia left to begin her round, they decided to get married.
Ranthia had gained a ton of control over her facial expressions between all of the image training she had done, all that she had learned about manipulating them, and… well, everything else. But nothing had ever tested her control like that conversation. Desperately, Ranthia tried to pretend that her body was just another mirror image that she controlled. She had to remind herself every few words to continue to smile.
Hexara’s bride came into money a few years ago—while Ranthia was in the Academy. Supposedly she hadn’t even known her uncle, yet he left everything to her when he passed. The woman was new to upper society and had leaned on her [Stylist], Hexara, to help her out with the social stuff and appearances.
Ranthia wanted to tune it out, but she couldn’t, no matter how distracted her mind was. Oh Xaoc, she had been warned the damned rings were cursed. For a moment, she felt an overpowering need to grab them out of her pouch, crush them, and hurl the remnants away. But she had enough reason—barely—to know that doing so would have likely been the start of a self-destructive spiral. She couldn’t trust herself. She was hurt and betrayed, but she still loved Hexara.
If she snapped and ended up hurting her—or worse…
The best thing she could do was stand there—smile, damnit—until the conversation was done.
At length, Hexara finished her story—every word engraved itself into Ranthia’s heart, as if they were knives. After a moment, Hexara’s expression turned slightly pained as she looked at Ranthia’s blindfold-covered face.
Oh no. No no no no. Please don’t!
“In another life, I wish I could have been with both of you. The three of us happy together. But I know you love your Ranger work. …So, it was easier this way, instead of always having to wait and worry… I’m sorry you couldn’t be there for the ceremony.”
Ranthia’s efforts to keep her mask in place failed.
She wanted to scream. She wanted to curse the woman in front of her. She had endured so much! She had used her true love for Hexara to keep moving. And the woman just unilaterally assumed that Ranthia had chosen being a Ranger over her. When it was her that had pushed Ranthia into…!
“I… should get to Ranger Headquarters. I just wanted to let you know I was alive.” Ranthia muttered weakly. She had no idea what expression her face was making, she felt too disconnected from herself.
Hexara looked hurt—godsdamnit Ranthia seemed unable to succeed at anything she tried—yet she opened her mouth to speak.
Ranthia fled, desperately. The cracking remnants of her heart and her psyche couldn’t possibly take anything else. It was far too much with her stats, but she fled at full speed. She escaped the salon. She ran without direction or purpose, dodging around cursing people.
She wasn’t entirely sure how—things got blurry and indistinct for a while there—but she ended up at the docks. It took a surprising amount of willpower to force herself to stop and not just hurl herself into the Nostrum sea.
Instead, she found a quiet corner—out of everyone’s way—and curled up. She ripped her blindfold off before her tears could soak through it, as if they hadn’t already almost the very moment she escaped from the salon.
Everything had been a lie. Hexara had promised to wait for her. She had told Ranthia that she loved her. She had agreed that they would talk when Ranthia got back and spend their lives together. The tender letters Ranthia had sent until she was out of every last coin. Then it comes out that almost as soon as Ranthia left Hexara married some other woman that she had never even mentioned?!
Ranthia glared hatefully at the two rings in her palm, barely able to make them out through her tears. She levered her arm back and prepared to hurl them into the sea.
Instead, she just fell over sideways. She no longer cried; she bawled like a child. Heartbroken and utterly alone. Yet she couldn’t bring herself to get rid of the symbol of her love, even as her heart shattered in a way that reminded her entirely too much of when she lost Tatius and Pupius.
Eventually, the tears stopped. Honestly, she felt no better, but she had cried herself out. Her body felt heavy, yet she forced it to move. She stuffed the rings into one of her empty pouches and stood.
She went to the baths and hurriedly scrubbed herself. She didn’t indulge in a long soak though—she still had to get to Ranger Headquarters, and it was already afternoon.
With effort, she summoned her Ranger’s mindset. She pushed her personal pain and self-loathing to the side. Once again. She just needed to be a good Ranger. That was all that mattered for the near future. She owed Leoios, Republius, Hail—Hallus, Penticus, Mettlea, Secundia, and even Pibius that much. She had to see their legacy carved into that obscene monument to despair.
She could allow herself to shatter afterwards.
Ranthia felt numb on the inside, but she had control over her expression again. When she had arrived at Headquarters to report her news about Ranger Team 13, she was immediately told to head over to a part of the building she had never been to. She was to give her report to Ranger Command in person.
Worse, the guards outside the door had ushered her in almost immediately, pausing only to relieve her of her remaining knives—not even enough to stock her belt completely.
She had no time to even try to prepare herself.
The massive doors creaked open; the tiny sounds they made felt excessively noisy.
Ranthia woodenly walked into the room like a puppet controlled by a child. Dressed in a cheap men’s tunic, with her badge pinned on her chest. She would have felt completely out of place in the grand room had she had enough presence of mind.
“Ranger Ranthia, of the missing Ranger Team 13. Explain your face covering.” One of the Commanders ordered immediately, before she had even reached the spot that she assumed she was meant to stand in.
“Sir, I received a new skill during the class-up. It allows me to see additional details, but er, I have been repeatedly informed that my eyes are… unpleasant to view.”
“Covering off.”
She shrugged, inwardly, and removed the blindfold. Muttering filled the room as the men privately conversed. There were nine men in the room, seated behind their semi-circular desk. The eight Ranger Commanders, plus Sentinel Ocean right in the middle.
One of the Commanders looked up and gave her an order. The rest remained focused on their scrolls. Some of the Commanders were familiar, others she had barely seen. She was pretty sure the Ranger veterans were all on one side of the desk though, but she had no idea if that meant anything. It was probably just how they normally sat.
“Ranger Ranthia, report.”
The words came. Ranthia was in the grip of a weird mix of emotions: still numb, yet she also felt small and scared. Yet somehow the words of her report came more readily than she expected. She began from the beginning.
The dinosaurs that were after the poachers that had stolen their eggs. The teamwork drills they did. Other simple events that were barely worth noting. Then she came to Ranger Secundia’s class up which delayed Ranger Leoios.
The Commanders remained silent through these.
Ranthia’s report on the bandit attack that killed their assigned [Healer] and the clean-up of the bandits that followed took much more time. Not because of them—there were a few questions, focused on details that Ranthia had glossed over—but because there was so much more to report there. That, overall, went fairly easily.
Ranthia expected the next part to go more roughly, but surprisingly the report on the corrupt city guard and the massive kerfuffle that turned into went much faster. She covered the salient points, and no questions were asked. After the fact, she supposed that there must have been thorough documentation of that particular event already.
Similarly, there was silence while she covered the ornithocheirus nest where Ranger Pibius proved invaluable—she had thought the event was important, but clearly these nine men disagreed. After that was a brief mention of her own class up, followed by other trivial reports from towns where little to nothing of merit happened.
Ranthia made no mention of her birthday and Secundia’s cake. That was a personal memory, not a Ranger report. The thought of it buoyed her a bit when her mind passed by it. It was funny how it had become a warm memory at some point, she wouldn’t have expected that while she was in so much pain.
The hurricane was next. One of the Commanders asked a lot of questions about Pibius’ fortifications and how the wind affected them until he noticed several of his peers glaring at him. The man fell silent and Ranthia moved on.
Until…
Ranthia looked at the men in the room. Two Ranger Commanders from the Senate, two from the army—almost indistinguishable from the senators. Four from the Rangers. She had overheard Leoios once say he aspired to claim one of those seats. Sentinel Ocean looked like he had somehow aged in the two years it had been since Ranthia last saw him.
“Then we arrived in Massilix.” She began.
Every man in the room gave her their full attention for the first time since she entered the room. Scrolls were forgotten and Ranthia nearly recoiled from the focus. She reminded herself to mind her emotional mask and proceeded.
“Massilix had sustained damage during the hurricane. We needed to resupply so we split up. Ranger Republius and I were in charge of securing lodging for our stay in town, since the guards were busy with recovery efforts.
“We saw a sea monster active in the ocean—it destroyed a fisherman’s boat that had gone out already. But it’s Massilix, so such sights were hardly noteworthy. We noted its appearance and continued, not expecting to see more come from it.
“That night we were woken by the city alarms. It seemed to be the same sea monster as earlier, except it had started to destroy all of the boats and ships in the docks. At Ranger Leoios’ orders, we held a meeting to determine how to respond, but before we could get too far…
“The sea monster attacked the city proper. It destroyed the coastal wall. Commander Leoios ordered us to help with evacuations.
Then, shortly thereafter, he ordered us in, to try to drive it off.”
She took a deep breath. Then stopped for a moment. Her wounded heart felt like it thundered in her chest. This promised to be the second hardest thing she had done… that day.
“We approached. The monster was identified as a kraken, level 786. I…” She paused.
“I was placed under restrictions on the use of my first class by Sentinel Hunting. Ranger Leoios knew of the restrictions. The restrictions prevented me from using two of my class skills entirely, and it further restricted the use of two others. Ranger Leoios ordered me to maintain my restrictions.”
No questions came. Yet.
“We split up into three units. Myself, assigned to Rangers Leoios and Republius. Rangers Hallus and Secundia, protected by Ranger Mettlea. Ranger Pibius was given the wagon so he could use its arcanite for his Steam bombs. Ranger Penticus was given free rein to do what he considered to be the best use of his abilities.
“Ranger Mettlea was the first to fall. He attempted to attack one of the kraken’s two longer tentacles. It… I’m not sure he ever saw the end come; it was over in an instant. He was crushed by the monster.”
She shook. The death replayed itself in her mind, all too vividly. Yet Ranthia had to relive each death as she forced herself to keep speaking.
“Ranger Hallus fell next. He had climbed a stone tower for better vantage for his skills. A single blow from the kraken collapsed the tower and buried him in the rubble.”
Her fists became tight.
“Ranger Penticus attempted to leap to the kraken’s main body. It… caught him and drove him into the rocks with deadly force. He wasn’t able to withstand it.”
She inhaled and exhaled; her eyes were too unfocused to truly see the faces of the Commanders. She didn’t want to know their reactions.
“With every death I begged Leoios to let me off my restrictions. He refused. He allowed the attack to continue.”
Bitterness laced her voice; a trace of venom. She breathed it out.
“Ranger Pibius… Was unable to affect the kraken with his Steam bombs. The kraken also possessed the element and seemed able to take control over the Steam he built up in his Earth mounds. He… attempted to reposition the wagon to better engage, but the horses didn’t cooperate; the wagon ended up seized by the kraken. Ranger Pibius was crushed along with it.”
That crack echoed in her mind, even as she lied to the Commanders. Pibius was an ass, but he sure as fuck hadn’t deserved that fate. The least she could do to make amends was to let the record show the man he could have been.
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“Then Ranger Secundia fell. She tried to reach locals that hadn’t evacuated. Children, from what I could see from my vantage. The small building they were in was about to be crushed. She tried to reach them. I ran after her, but I wasn’t fast enough…
“The tentacle came down. Ranger Secundia perished, along with the civilians. I was close enough that the shockwave blasted me into another building and stunned me.”
She trembled at the memories.
“When I came to, one of the first things I saw was the remains of Ranger Republius, I never saw how he died. Ranger Leoios still fought though. But before I could stand, he was pinned by both of the kraken’s long tentacles. …He died firing arrow after arrow.”
She had thought she was cried out, but she tended to be wrong about everything—why not that too? Not many came, but tears fell. She didn’t want to know how the Commanders reacted.
“I was alone at that point. I made the decision to fight, without restrictions.” Her voice was unsteady.
“I believe it’s time we know exactly what these restrictions are and why you were under them.” One of the senate-seat Commanders ordered.
“…My first class is a Mirror [Mage] class. I can create mirror images of myself with it. In essence, I was restricted to only using that ability, with only partial use of another skill that allows me to move those images. My tightest restriction was on another skill, which allows me to abandon my true body and take on the body of one of my mirror images. It becomes my body, as real as my true body. I can fight, then change to another mirror image. My mirror images that I do not inhabit can be moved realistically, but they cannot actually deal damage.
“…I actually don’t know why Sentinel Hunting restricted my use of the class. Initially, it was to help my [Warrior] class out-level my first class, due to its Void affinity. But if there was more to it than that, he never saw fit to explain.”
A year ago, she would have rebelled at lining out her abilities so plainly. But what did it matter now? Many, many people had seen exactly what she could do.
“Does that mean—” One of the Commanders started to ask.
“Let’s hear the rest of her report, at least for Massilix. Then we can ask any follow-up questions.” Sentinel Ocean interrupted.
The other Commanders nodded, after a moment.
“Continue, Ranger.” Someone said, she wasn’t even quite sure who.
“I left my true body in the building I had gotten knocked into. It seemed sturdy enough; it was full of some nautical junk. I shifted to a mirror image, then charged the kraken. Initially, it partially ignored me and rampaged.
“Honestly, I don’t remember the fight very well. The kraken was an enemy beyond just hazardous. It was triple classed. Its first class was Coral-aspected. The visible effects of it came in the form of a coating of tough coral armor that regenerated periodically. Its second class was Steam-aspected. It was able to conjure blasts of powerful Steam and had some sort of powerful movement Skill as well. Its third class was Dark-aspected. The class seemed focused on making the kraken difficult to see clearly, though I was fortunate: my new vision Skill countered it. The other effect I noted was a full-body surge of Dark energy that worked exactly as you would expect. It seemed to hesitate to use that ability though, presumably it required a tremendous amount of mana.
“There was a chunk of arcanite from the wagon lodged in one of its big tentacles. I used that to refuel myself, though I had to seek physical contact to do so.
“I had to focus so much, especially when I finally pissed it off. The slightest mistake would have killed me. I… I came really close a lot of times. I still feel a bit numb to pain ever since.
“My sole focus was on cutting the monster, evading, and shifting when I absolutely had to. I retrieved crates of knives that Ranger Leoios had purchased for my use at some point, since they were destroyed rapidly as I fought.
“To the best of my ability to piece things together, I fought it for roughly two full days. Night to day, back to night. Then another repetition of the cycle. Like I said, I just don’t remember the minutia of the battle.
“…And eventually it died.” Ranthia finished lamely.
Ranthia stood there as the Ranger Commanders began to talk and argue amongst themselves.
“First time?” Sentinel Ocean asked her while they bickered.
“Sir?” Ranthia had no idea which of so many first times he meant.
“Was it your first time fighting for over a day?” He clarified.
Ranthia nodded.
“Figured, yeah don’t worry about the details. It happens to all of us. To fight so hard for so long takes all your focus.” The Sentinel assured her.
The members of Ranger Command that were actual Rangers nodded along with that, before they returned to their own bickering.
“Do you recall what the kill notification said?” One of the Commanders asked.
“[Kraken], Coral, level 789; [Kraken], Steam, level 707; [Kraken], Dark, level 549.” She answered immediately.
More conversation. Now that Ranthia had nothing else to occupy her attention, she finally noticed that she couldn’t make out what they were saying. Inscriptions to prevent eavesdropping, she supposed, lacking a better explanation.
“You obeyed your team leader’s orders to restrain your abilities. Why did you defy those orders as soon as he died?” One of the Commanders asked.
“I was alone. My options were to either die uselessly, run away and leave Massilix to its fate and make my team’s sacrifice meaningless, or to assume my restrictions had lost all meaning with my team’s death and try to take that evil thing down with me.” Ranthia replied with conviction.
“Mmn, I see. Had Ranger Leoios not given you those orders, do you believe that your team would have survived?” A different Commander asked.
That was a question that Ranthia had grappled with often, at least once she recovered her state of mind enough to actually face it. Fortunately, she had found her answer.
“No. Had he sent me in solo and they stayed back… Maybe, assuming I actually won. The city suffered substantial damage during the battle, however, which likely would have made that a non-option. I do not believe that my full capabilities would have been meaningful had we all fought together.”
More arguing.
“Do you believe that your team leader made a mistake in his call?” One of the senate—or maybe army—Commanders asked.
That was another question that she had considered in the months since.
“I’ve had… months to consider alternative strategies and what-ifs. I know the strategy I would have used if I had been in his shoes and had the benefit of my analyses. Gods, it might have even been the strategy we came up with if we had time. But we didn’t. We had no time to discuss how to counter the creature. It had begun to destroy Massilix, so we did what our training calls for in a crisis: we threw ourselves at the problem.”
She still wasn’t sure if she believed Leoios had made a bad call or not. It was… seductively easy to convince herself of what she had just said: that it was the best call he could make in the situation. That it was just a terrible situation that needed an urgent, immediate response. She had no idea how true that was, but for the sake of the respect she used to have for the man, she gave that probable-lie to the Commanders.
“I see. Would you share your strategy that you came up with?” The same Commander asked.
“Not to engage. It would have been cowardly, but I believe we would have ultimately saved more lives if we had focused on evacuation efforts. The kraken made attempts to drag itself out of the ocean multiple times, but it never came far onto land. I doubt it would have changed that behavior without my presence. There should have been a point at which anyone further from water than that would have been safe. We could have gotten as many people clear as we could, then waited for a Sentinel.” She answered.
The Commander made a noncommittal noise in response.
“Speaking of Sentinels, why did you not wait for the Sentinel that had been summoned?” A different Commander asked.
“I… I honestly forgot that Ranger Leoios had sent a message for one? Once I recovered enough from the battle, I gathered what remained of our Ranger equipment and continued the Round. I was already so far behind schedule…”
She had never even thought about the summons for a Sentinel. Whoops. She hadn’t even covered it in her report, it’d slipped her mind until the question reminded her that Leoios mentioned something about a courier.
“…Wait, are you telling me you continued your team’s round while solo?” A different Commander interjected.
“Yes sir.” Ranthia answered, not even bothering to make an excuse.
The Commanders fell into another argument. Ranthia swore Sentinel Ocean flashed her a grin when they weren’t looking, but it was gone so quickly she was half-convinced she imagined it.
“Continue your report, Ranger. Though you should know that we very nearly sent a Sentinel after you. We had gotten reports of a solitary Ranger running around, and we assumed it was a fake. Especially since most reports indicated that your armor wasn’t Ranger equipment.” One of the Ranger Commanders ordered, after the arguments died down.
“R-right. Apologies, my Ranger-issued armor was destroyed in the battle with the kraken. The spare suits I was able to recover were not in my size, nor did I have adequate skill needed to adjust them to fit me. However, I had a suit of personal armor that I used while I was an Adventurer. I transferred my badge to it.” Ranthia was more than a little unnerved to know they had nearly sent a Sentinel to deal with her.
She wanted to ask why they hadn’t, but decided that she really, really shouldn’t. After a moment, she resumed her report.
Next was Perinthus, with the Purple Flower temple problem. She called out the guard captain’s incompetence and explained the seizure of the center of production of the drugs and the follow-up investigation of the [Priests] and [Acolytes], with the final conclusion that all of them were guilty.
A series of minor reports. Trivial problems or towns with no issues at all. She got a few eyebrows when she described the bounty system that she helped one town set up to counter its dinosaur problem, but no one asked questions after she finished that explanation.
The anticlimactic dinosaur hunt was even more boring as a report. More trivial reports.
“And then I reached the final city of my round. On arrival, I found the city damaged. Dead bodies at the gate and on the road. I soon learned that a group of revolutionaries had invaded the city. They were holed up in the governor’s mansion.”
“That was you!?” One of the Commanders yelled, the others shushed him.
“Er, yes? I coordinated with a remarkable, competent woman who had ended up in charge of the city guard by virtue of no one else stepping up. I’m not sure if this means anything, but I would strongly suggest they make her the new captain of the guard. Or at least give the woman a damned nice raise.”
Oops. Her mask of professionalism slipped a bit there. Ranthia cleared her throat and continued.
“With the threat of hostages and the fact that I was potentially up against over 50 classers, I decided to make use of stealth. I entered the mansion and, in time, learned that the governor was dead. They had tortured him to death. A young woman, who seemed from context to be the governor’s daughter, had joined with the revolutionaries.
“I secured the other hostages. Then I began to counter the revolutionaries directly. I used my mirror images to create chaos among them. I even managed to spark internal warfare between them and fragmented them into infighting factions.
“At that point, I made my way to challenge their leadership. I defeated their remaining defenders, then was attacked by their main leader. I, er, I attempted to intimidate him into standing down. It didn’t work. A Radiance [Mage].”
Ranthia was not about to admit she had impersonated a Sentinel when she did that. Fortunately for her, the Commanders were busy laughing and commenting about how the man had poor luck going up against a Mirror [Mage].
Ranthia decided not to correct the assumptions they were making and continued her report.
“I was forced to kill him, beheaded him to be safe. Mortally wounded [Mages] suck.”
A few nods, though others seemed annoyed at her lack of decorum. She was really not at her best if she was making more and more mistakes.
“At that point the other two women in their leadership surrendered. I tied them up and gagged them, then retrieved the city guard. Assisted them with rounding up the rest of the revolutionaries and getting the hostages out safely.
“As soon as the guard confirmed that they could take it from there, I left town. I was far behind schedule.”
“I’m surprised that report reached us before you did, Ranger.” One of the Commanders noted.
Fuck, she should have seen that coming. They’d obviously known about the incident ahead of time! …Well, so much for the best, she needed to bring Verna—Vert—up to someone anyway. The young woman had been insistent that she still wanted to be a Ranger.
“Um, right. I was unable to return straight to Ariminum. Earlier in my route, I had met a promising candidate for our Ranger Academy. The young woman that gave us the tip for the corrupt guard case I mentioned earlier in my report. I went to retrieve her. I… hope to sponsor her entry into the Academy?”
Only in that moment did she finally realize she had no idea if she could even do that! Fortunately, one of the Ranger Commanders that was actually a Ranger gave her directions to a specific office and told her to take the woman there.
There were a few other questions asked and answered, but at length they dismissed her and told her that they would see her at the Ranger Convocation in two days. She really had cut it close.
Ranthia exhaled deeply as soon as the doors closed. …Only to shriek—a little—when Ocean suddenly leaned into her line of sight, smiling at her. When had he gotten there?! She had never even noticed that the man got up before she left the meeting!
“Well done on everything, Ranger.” He smiled warmly at her.
“Um, thank you?” She didn’t mean to make it sound like a question, but she was in bad shape after everything.
“If you don’t have anywhere else to stay, Sentinel Hunting asked me to give something to you if you needed it.” Ocean continued, handing her a key.
Hunting had left her a key to his villa, outside of town. Sentinel Ocean gave her directions to go with the key. Apparently, a housekeeper came by every other day to tend to the place, but she was welcome to make use of the villa and anything inside of it.
Ranthia was relieved to accept the key. It was better than staying in that hellhole tavern and her plans for staying with Hexara were… well, she didn’t have the luxury of thinking about that at the moment.
“How is Hunting, will he be here for the Convocation?” Ranthia asked instead, in an effort to distract herself.
“I hate to say it, but I doubt it. He’s been staying on mission for long stretches of time for a while now. Not exactly out of character, mind you, but I don’t know when he’ll return to Remus next.” Ocean replied with an apologetic—and maybe a bit forced—smile.
“Oh… I… I see. Thank you, I appreciate it.” Ranthia mumbled.
It was probably for the best; she was sure to be shit company for a while.
Ranthia, barely, managed to get Vert and her crate back to Ranger Headquarters in time. With Ranthia’s recommendation, Vert was exempt from the big examination to enter the Academy—which was good because they had already missed that—and would be able to enter the Academy when it began. They were given locations about where to be and when. And honestly, Ranthia was glad—the sight of Vert’s happy excitement did her heart some desperately needed good.
Especially since her next stop promised to be even worse than the whole thing with Ranger Command.
“What do you want?” The quartermaster growled.
He was old, intimidating, and his surliness was the stuff of legends. She had heard rumors about the man even in Ranger Academy!
And here she was with a crate full of broken remnants.
“Um, Ranger Ranthia. Sole survivor of Ranger Team 13. Here to return what remains of our team equipment. …I also need to request new armor for myself?” She nervously answered.
She then set down the crate she had carried for so long and opened it. She had left her personal effects in Vert’s room for the moment, so everything that was in the crate was what she intended to return.
The quartermaster emerged and looked through it. The sealed last wills of her teammates, still unopened; she had never been able to bring herself to read them. The wagon’s arcanite that she salvaged from the kraken’s tentacle. The spare armor sets. A few other bits of weaponry and equipment. What remained of her armor. The recovered Ranger badges. Her fallen teammates’ personal effects. So little…
“Huh, you might just be my favorite Ranger. Team wipe and you haul this much across Remus? If we had more Rangers like you, we’d be much better off. Hells, bringing what looks like at least eighty percent of the arcanite back alone is a huge help. Most Rangers just ditch everything when they lose their wagon, or if they decide something becomes too inconvenient.” The man offered… not a smile, but an accepting nod
“…So, you’re not mad?” Ranthia asked, in spite of her better judgment.
“Pfft, I’m always mad. But you, you did alright by me. Help me get this crate into my office, then I’ll take you to see our armorer so she can get you suited up.” The quartermaster ordered.
Soon, Ranthia found herself in front of a woman that was somewhere close to her own age. The young woman was short and tiny, but she carried herself with a deep-seated weariness that made it hard to get a read on her age.
“Kid, this Ranger needs new armor. Treat her right.” The quartermaster stated, instead of doing something normal like making an introduction.
“Oh, have you actually brought me a challenge for a change? I’m sure she needs this before the Convocation, but you wouldn’t have brought her to me yourself for a standard assignment. What’re her special requirements?” The woman asked.
“She’s a Ranger, not a fucking Sentinel. Standard armor.” The quartermaster rebuffed her.
“Um, if it’s not too much trouble, can I at least get sandals that can handle my flexibility? I’ve had issues with sandals breaking due to how my combat class works.” Ranthia interrupted.
She arched her feet until she was balanced on her toes and started to go through the motions of a dance in slow motion, so the duo could see the leather straining.
“Interesting. Tightwad, let me get a bit fancy.” The woman demanded, seeming to take interest in Ranthia for the first time.
“She’s not a special project, I’ll approve some extra sandal allotments, but that’s it.” The man replied with a glare.
“Bah! I got hired for this godsforsaken job because I had ideas on how to innovate and improve armor designs and bring protection forward. I chose the Rangers instead of the Legions because I was promised a better opportunity. And yet, every fucking year, it’s ‘Another 888 sets of the exact same crap we’ve used for almost a century now.’ And every Sentinel has their own established preference, so I don’t even get to innovate there. You, hurry up and become a Sentinel!” The woman snapped.
Ranthia had no idea how to respond to that.
After Ranthia left Ranger Headquarters, she made her way back through the city. First, she returned to the tavern for her belongings—miraculously still there—and delivered her Adventurer armor to the shop that had crafted it. The man didn’t complain, thankfully. Not that she expected him to, armor was meant to be used, and he was going to get good coin—and a lot of it—to restore her armor to new.
After that, Ranthia decided that it was pretty late, and she should head out to Hunting’s villa before the city closed. Arguably she should have eaten something but… gods, food just sounded awful at the time. It didn’t take her long to find the right villa. Oddly, he had an enormous, empty pen beside it. …Which probably used to house his former bond, she realized guiltily. Hunting had probably been unable to make himself take the pen down.
Gods and goddesses, she could understand that.
The key fit in the door, and Ranthia, somewhat uncomfortably, made herself at home. Her chest of personal belongings was stowed near the kitchen. And it seemed that the housekeeper kept food stocked, if she ever convinced herself to eat.
The next day, she visited her old Guildmaster. He was slightly… unamused over how she used her mark for setting up a bounty system, but he did—rather grudgingly—admit that it made for good publicity. He gave her permission to still use the mark on her next round, though she was barred from using it for an open bounty system again. The visit was surprisingly brief, before he excused himself for some sort of meeting.
Realistically, Ranthia knew that she really should be a mature adult and apologize to Hexara for running away like that, but she just… couldn’t. Every time some rational tiny voice in her head recommended it, her heart rebelled so fiercely that she nearly started to cry yet again. Each time Ranthia shook her head to clear it and tried to bury the pain yet again.
It wasn’t planned, but when Ranthia was on her way to Ranger Headquarters, she saw her mother. The woman seemed to have aged considerably since Ranthia last saw her. Ranthia thought that it looked like the woman was having a bit of trouble with her back or her legs, yet the hateful woman still ran her stall mercilessly. Ranthia decided to keep her distance and avoided the stall while she made her way to Ranger Command.
Soon enough she was in the armorer’s workshop again, wearing her new Ranger armor—which fit her even better than the old suit had.
“The armor is boringly bog standard, but your sandals were a treat to design. Don’t tell the old miser. I used wing leather from Ornithocheirus, along with some other parts to make ‘em. You’ll find they’re more flexible than our standard sandals and should be way less prone to breaking. I could do sooo much more, but ugh. The armor’s sized right for that ratty vest of yours too, don’t worry.” The woman promised.
Ranthia thanked the woman, genuinely, with a smile. After she was shooed out of the workshop, she transferred her lightly damaged badge to the new armor. She was attached to the badge and had no desire to get a new one, not that she was even sure if she could. Somehow that had never come up. It wasn’t like it was unrecognizable, it was just a bit… worn.
After that, Ranthia replenished her personal coin from her vault at the temple. She also stored the ‘cursed’ rings while she was there. They were too hard to even look at, but she just couldn’t bring herself to sell them or throw them away. No matter how much she wanted to. They had meaning, even if that meaning brought her nothing but pain.
The bulk of the rest of the day she spent with Vert. Ranthia was still poor company, but Vert wanted to talk to her about her ideas for her own future Mirror class once she could replace her old [Clever Thief] class. Vert wanted a class that would let her create a true duplicate of herself, one with autonomy. Ranthia wasn’t… entirely sure if it was possible (it probably was, but it sure as heck didn’t sound easy to pull off). Still, while her own abilities were a bit different in function, Ranthia figured that the similarities were enough that she could give some advice.
Her personal Adventurer armor wouldn’t be ready for another few days. So, she just hit the baths—finally—before she returned to Hunting’s villa to prepare dinner. Her appetite was finally back and she gorged herself as the sun set.
Then, in the precious moments between when she finished her evening prayers, yet hadn’t quite decided to turn in for the night, there was a knock at the door.
Seriously? Who visits a villa outside the city after nightfall? Ranthia continued to grouse and grumble while she pulled her blindfold on—already openly hating whoever was at the door—before she answered it.
“Ah, Ranger Ranthia. Excellent, Ocean indicated that you should be here. Please gear up and join me.”
Nothing good could come from Sentinel Night showing up at your door after dark.
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Nozomi Matsuoka.
Sarah "Neila" Elkins.
