LTSV - Harbingers of Change - 13 (Patreon)

“I saw your face before you threw that rock, dipshit,” Alan continued. He dropped his arms and rolled his shoulders forward. “It’s been pretty clear since we started that you think this is all an actual game; like you take whatever you want or attack anything you feel like and we’re just gonna follow you around like a bunch of NPCs, letting it happen. You were watching Mira finish off the goblins by herself and you got that look on your face, the same one as right now when we called you out on your shit, and that’s when you picked up the rock. You weren’t gonna fight it until you needed to look better than her.”

Andrei bared his teeth in an ugly snarl and a familiar manic light entered his eyes, just like when he’d challenged Randall to a duel in their last lives. “Oh, I see what this is. Look man, you can try to get your dick wet on your own time. Try worrying about surviving the Dungeon first, okay?”

This time, Alan did lunge for him and Randall barely managed to intervene. “I got this,” he hissed into Alan’s ear. “Stay cool, I’ve got this.”

Randall turned to Andrei. “You’re right about one thing. We’re only gonna let you stay with us if you agree to some terms,” he said coldly. “What happened out there just now cannot happen again. You put our lives in danger and, from what I can tell, you’re not even sorry. It’s a fucked up situation, I get it, but…”

“I’m not agreeing to shit,” Andrei spat. “Keep your terms and shove them up your ass! You want the Safe Room to yourself so bad? You can have it. Bryn! Cecelia! Come on, we’re leaving.”

Cece looked up with a perplexed expression from where she was helping Will get some water down. “Why would I go with you?” she asked, coldly.

“I…” Andrei drew up short. Some of his bluster drained out of him, but rapidly returned. “...I’ve been looking after you!” he insisted.

“How?” Cece wanted to know. “Was it that time you tried to give me a staff somebody else needed that I couldn’t even use? Was it the time we pointed you towards some good materials and you would have started harvesting them all without even offering to share? I could tell that you were about to take the whole Screamwood Grove for yourself except that Bryn showed up.”

His face twisted and he backed up. “I should have known,” he sneered. “You all think you’re such hot shit. I’m out of here.” He started to stomp off, but realized quickly that no one was following him. He turned back and, for the first time, some vulnerability broke through his mask of bravado. “Bryn? You coming?”

Bryn looked at the rest of them and then back at Andrei, plainly conflicted. Then he seemed to come to a conclusion. “Not this time,” he said, sounding rough. “What you did was really fucked up. I know you know that or you wouldn’t be pissed off right now. This isn’t like when you fought with our frat brothers, okay? There could be real consequences if…”

Andrei’s jaw firmed as he started backing away before Bryn could finished talking. “I get it,” he said. “You too, huh? I see how it is.”

He turned away and started stomping away. Bryn opened his mouth, raised his hand like he was going to call after him, but then stopped and closed it again. “We should get inside,” he said, quietly.

Mira couldn’t find words to encompass what she was feeling as she stood aside to let the boys inside the shelter. All she could do was look at Bryn’s back and think, ‘You haven’t forgiven him for last time yet, have you?’

From the moment that duel in their previous life ended, to the final time Mira saw Bryn alive, he had never talked to or about Andrei ever again. He wouldn’t even say Andrei's name. Mira had thought that rebirth would have smoothed things over between those two souls, but it seemed like Bryn still carried some latent memory of the last time Andrei had disappointed him.

Lasol’s unquestioned loyalty to Peleon had come to an end.

Alan was still pacing off his furious energy when Bryn finished making up an impromptu meal from the last of the groceries. They’d eaten all the whole crispbreads and were down to the ones that had broken in the box. Bryn broke the remaining ones into chips and they used those to finish off the dips. After this, they’d be out of fresh food and they’d have to start buying ‘rations’ from the shop.

Mira had quietly volunteered to share the rest of what she’d kept back, which was mostly protein and fruit bars, but Randall was the one to veto it before anyone else could say anything.

“You were having a problem with the shop, right?” he said, when she stared at him in surprise. “I didn’t catch all the details, but I heard you say you can’t buy anything. If we get separated, then you’re going to need to have food on you.”

“What’s that?” Alan finally gave up his stomping and came over to pop a squat where they were circled around the food. “Why can’t you access the shop? You’re talking about the general store right? Everyone is supposed to have access to it.”

Cecily looked uncomfortable, but didn’t volunteer any of Mira’s business. They were sharing one of the mattress pads again, so she was giving Mira little sideways looks.

Mira rubbed the back of her neck and sighed, “I’m under an order of protection. The System interpreted the terms of my conservatorship as meaning I need verbal permission from my father to access the shop or view my account balance.”

“A conservatorship?” Will echoed. “Like Brittany?”

She cleared her throat. It was hard to meet anyone’s eyes at that moment so she looked at the ceiling. “Exactly like.”

“Holy shit,” he whistled and looked her over. “You seem perfectly competent to me. Why…”

“It happened when I was a teenager,” Mira explained, relating Samira’s experiences. “I wasn’t at the hearing where the conservatorship was decided, so I don’t know all the details. I was in an inpatient care facility and the judge excused me from having to attend.”

“Uh…” it was hard to tell who said it, just that it was one of the guys.

“It was rehab,” Mira said shortly. She was starting to get a feeling, not unlike those moments when she was seized by the memory of Violet Coventry. The part of her that was still Samira did not want to talk about this to strangers. Her pulse was starting to race and her breath felt thin, but it felt important to get a few more words out. “I’ve been clean since I was released.”

There was a tense quiet in the room, the kind of quiet people went when you admitted to being an addict in recovery and they didn’t know how to handle it. However, the silence was broken by Cece’s tense and angry voice.

“Don't say it like that. You got hurt playing sports and your parents didn’t want to manage your recovery,” Cece snapped. Then she paused, “Sorry, Miss Samira. I know it’s your private business.”

“Yo–you can tell the story,” Mira’s throat almost closed on the words.

Oh, this was the leading edge of a panic attack. Samira REALLY had not liked sharing the details of her worst shame. OK. Mira put her head between her knees and started concentrating on her breathing. Deep breaths. BIG breaths. In. Out.

“Um, I heard this from the lady who used to clean for the Bellamys before me,” Cece explained. Mira could sense her wanting to try and touch her, but forcing herself not to. Smart girl. “I work for her parents, if I hadn’t mentioned before. Mrs. Robin was working for them when it happened. Miss Samira got hurt when an older girl fouled her during field hockey. She messed up her knee real bad.”

Mira’s pulse was throbbing in her ears and her chest, but the emotions washing through her started to recede. She’d stopped herself in time. Her hands and feet felt cold, but the high thin noise that had started up between her ears was fading. Keep breathing.

Where the hell was Adra? She squeezed her eyes shut.

“She was supposed to have a surgery,” Cece continued. “Mr. Bellamy said she didn’t need it and Mrs. Bellamy was, uh, shopping around doctors for prescriptions and filling them in different pharmacies so the doctors didn’t realize how many painkillers she was getting. Mrs. Robin didn’t come right out and say it, but she implied that Mrs. Bellamy was skimming the muscle relaxers from Miss Samira’s prescriptions.”

“Ah, fuck,” someone muttered. It sounded like Alan.

“Mrs. Robin also thought there was some money involved too and that’s why they wanted the conservatorship. She’d heard that Miss Samira inherited something from her grandmother, but she didn’t know the details,” Cece finished. “No one does, except Mr. Bellamy.”

“There almost always is money involved,” Randall grumbled. “Hey, Mira? Are you al…”

“No,” Mira said shortly.

“Just stay back from her,” Bryn said sharply. Those were the first words he’d spoken since Andrei had stomped off. “Don’t touch her. Just act normal and let her ride it out while she’s got a handle on it. Maybe talk about something that's not rehab or her parents stealing from her.”

Mira buried her face in her knees and tried to follow that advice even though it hadn’t been meant for her. Thinking about all that would probably make it worse. This poor damn kid.

Everyone’s voices faded into a blanket of white noise there for a while as Mira counted her breaths until her heartrate finally slowed down and her fingertips stopped tingling. Penny had wrapped around her like a blanket at some point and was radiating heat into her body.

She blinked her eyes open and finally tuned back into what the others were talking about.

“...knew he was gonna be a problem as soon as he bogarted a whole mat just for himself,” Alan griped, tearing into the last of the mango slices. “You said you met him in a frat?”

Bryn nodded. “Yeah, we were just pledges. He got into it with some of the active brothers and ended up walking out. I went with him because I wasn’t happy with the way the house was being run. Their parties were out of control and I knew they were gonna get the chapter canceled so there was no point staying.”

“So, you’re saying this is normal behavior for him,” Alan replied flatly.

“I…” Bryn visibly tried to mount a defense and failed. He deflated. “...yeah.”

“Fuckin’ typical,” Alan groused and then he noticed Mira was alert again. “Hey, I think she’s back online.”

“Miss Samira?” Cece came over from where she’d been messing with some glass vials. Had she been trying her hand at potion making? “How are you feeling?”

“Like I have a hangover,” Mira replied with honesty.

“OK, can you drink some water and eat a little something?” Cece asked. “We saved the last of the cold cuts and watermelon for you.”

She didn’t want it, but vaguely recalled food, water, and some light movement tended to help whenever she had to deal with this in the past. It had been a couple of lives since she last had a body with anything like a panic disorder, but she remembered the broad strokes of what to do in the wake of an attack. In retrospect, it made sense that Samira would have panic episodes and that the condition would survive through the transition for Mira to have to deal with. This stuff lived in your bones and could not be exorcised except through time.

Her body said ‘no’ to the idea of eating, but Mira took the food anyway and nibbled her way through it, alternating with sips of water. Then she took a little walk around the safe room while the others watched her. Eventually, her head stopped feeling like an empty melon rind and she went over to sit down again.

“No more questions on that subject,” she announced, to no one in particular.

“Yeah, clearly,” Randall chuckled. It wasn’t the happiest sound. “I think we know enough to get along for now. Cecelia and Alan said they’ll both help you convert materials into gold. Alan can access other specialty shops through his merchant class, so you won’t get locked out of your class shop. We can work around this.”

He was promising that like theirs was a permanent arrangement. Then again, what choice did she have?

She might not need spells. She could make her own whenever she wanted. This experience was a stark reminder, though, that the shop would be a critical source of things like emergency food, tools, and replacement clothing.

“I’ll have to inconvenience them, then,” she murmured.

“Keep raining down hell on the goblins and we’ll call it even,” Alan said. Then he paused, rubbed the back of his head, and added, “About what Assface said, I’m not—it’s not like that, just so you know. I saw your ring.” He gestured to the two carat round-cut solitaire diamond on her finger. “I don’t have an agenda, okay?”

Mira blinked over at him and realized he was blushing hard. “I never thought you did,” she replied honestly. His courtesies had seemed pretty platonic, so far, and equally distributed between her and Cece. “I thought he just said that to be a dick.”

“Me too, TBH,” Will said, leaning over to join the conversation.

“Seconded,” Cece said.

“Thirded,” Randall agreed.

Bryn just sighed and looked embarrassed.

“The council has spoken!” Alan chuckled, but then slowly sobered. “Alright, we should probably talk about what we’re going to do next.”