ROTLE- Chapter 192- Deer In Headlights (Patreon)

Most people heard of fainting or losing consciousness and assumed darkness. It was an interesting concept, assuming that darkness was all one saw, like staring eyes wide open in a room with neither windows nor light in the middle of a starless moonless night.

Interestingly enough, it would surprise most people to know how very few the number of people without classes there were on Nastild that have gone unconscious. More surprising would be the number of people with classes that had gone unconscious.

Or maybe not.

The combat classes did tend to put themselves in enough trouble that they walked hand in hand with unconsciousness.

Regardless, it did not change the fact that darkness was not the domain of true unconsciousness. The unconscious… the truly unconscious, did not see anything. There was nothing. No existence with which words have ever existed to describe. There were no colors, no actions. No memories.

Just deep empty nothingness.

And Valdan would know, because even before gaining his class, he had seen unconsciousness more than a few times. A child of the streets of the slums, he had been prone to getting himself into the kinds of trouble that normal children did not get themselves into. The kinds of trouble that you found waiting for you with unconsciousness at its side.

His favorite part was that if he did not go looking for the trouble, like an older brother left in charge of you, the trouble would eventually come looking for him.

In truth, he’d never figured out which was always the most destructive and most fearful: the trouble he sought or the trouble that sought him.

All in all, Valdan knew what it meant to be unconscious. With or without a class. He had taste both and definitely advised doing unconsciousness with a class. Still, he knew it as one knew their own name.

That was why he knew for a fact that he was not unconscious. Not with all the darkness surrounding him like a swirling pool of black slime. There was no discomfort in it… at least not anymore. In the beginning it had come with a lot of pain, as if the darkness was actually an infinite number of countless black needles designed by the gods for the very purpose of torturing him.

How long he had been in whatever state this was continued to elude him. Time was a construct that he alone seemed to construct for himself within this blackness.

He wove it out of the movement of the dark. He did not count in seconds or minutes or hours. He counted in swirls.

By the fifteen millionth swirl, he had started to hear sounds. At first, he thought his ability to hear sounds was a reflection of his ability to make sounds. It did not take him long to realize that it was.

Sound was no longer his. Stimuli was no longer his. He was paralyzed. But it was comfortable.

So, he listened. At first it was to everybody. There were voices he could not place very easily at first. Then he placed them better. There was Elami the [Healer] and Oncot the man with the giant cleaver and a love for battle. Not combat, but battle. Most people misunderstood them. they believed that because they were synonymous, they had to be the same.

Then the voices began to fade out. Every time he tried to listen to a conversation, he slowly lost everything. So he focused. He picked a voice and stuck with it. It was a familiar voice, a voice that came with as much authority as fear and pain.

It was funny. Lost in the darkness, he could hear the fear and pain so much clearer. Every word carried worry. He wondered if the owner even knew that they had so much of it in their voice. But he was glad for one thing. Once upon a time, there had also been hate. It had not been the strongest emotion in the voice, but it had been there.

It was gone now, though, replaced by fear and worry. And it always sounded reluctant. As if it would rather be silent than talk.

It hurt Valdan to hear. He wanted to remind the voice that just because it had so much strength it did not mean that it had to carry so much fear and worry. Sometimes it was enough to just put the burden down, to stop thinking, to stop fearing, to stop worrying. Taking a moment to breathe was not going to ruin the world.

It was advice he would not take, but it did not mean that it was not good advice.

The voice had lasted only so long, though. Then it was gone.

Valdan still remembered its final words before disappearing.

Oncot, take them away from me.

There had been pain and panic and fear and worry. There had been sacrifice. Then there had been nothing, no voice to focus on. Only then had he realized that the voice had comforted him through everything. That even in its state, he had been happy to hear it, to know that it worried over him, to know that it cared.

Its presence had reminded him that he had not been alone.

The remaining swirls after it had disappeared had been mentally draining. Voices slipped in and out, but they were the voices of acquaintances, those who knew him but could not really care, not as deeply as the voice had.

The swirls had gone on and on and on. Then the pieces of voices had begun to feel burdensome, unnecessary. So, he had shut them out, silenced them for he did not care. And they did not care, not truly.

And when the voice he knew returned, he held on to it like a man holds on to his grown younger brother, a brother he had not seen for a while. A brother that no matter what they did, he would never be ashamed of. Should he stand against the gods, Valdan knew that an enemy it would make the gods to him.

They would die side by side or they would not die at all.

If he could still smile, the realization would’ve made him smile.

MELVET!

The name was an explosion in his mind, dragging him into the present. The name carried so much weight in itself that the world could not push it even if it tried. Backed by the authority of the voice, it was a god.

And if that very thought was not blasphemous enough, then there was more that he had not expected.

Melvet, a new voice had carried with enough will to make the gods bow. How do you know that name?

It brought him warmth and love. In one voice he knew he was not alone. In the other, he knew that he was loved.

Together, they brought him peace. Enough peace to rest.

That was until he heard the exchange between voices, and one said to the other, Alright then, Lord Lacheart. Stop me.

Valdan knew Aiden well enough to know that the boy had a difficult time stepping from what he considered a challenge. Which meant that he was indeed going to try and stop Melvet.

So, he was done resting. He was done being peaceful. He was done listening and waiting and hoping.

He was done resting.

That’s enough, he thought.

And the world burst into colors that were vastly more than black. Strength worked its way in his muscles. Power pushed past the paralysis.

He rose from the arms that had held him for a time he did not know and walked. His footsteps moved through the grass, carrying to his ears.

The [Healer], Elami, said something.

Valdan ignored it.

Before him Aiden clashed with Melvet. He had taken her to the basics and she was holding her own. Valdan could see it, the sword style of the Bandiv knights. Melvet did not disappoint him. She had always been an amazing student whenever he taught her.

They were so engrossed in their clash that they did not even pay any attention to him. Perhaps it was their faith in the others. Aiden’s belief that Ted would not let any harm come to him at a time like this.

He wondered where Melvet placed her belief.

It mattered very little when their sheathed swords clashed for the last time. His hands shot out and he grabbed both weapons, halting them mid strike.

His eyes settled on the beautiful pale grey eyes he had come to know and love.

“That’s enough,” he said.

Melvet blinked once, then twice. Her bottom lip quivered for a while, and for a moment he thought she would break down in tears.

Strong as she always was, she did not. Instead, she let go of her sword and reached up to his face with trembling hands, as if for fear that touching him would reveal him to be nothing but a figment of her imaginations.

Valdan waited, urging her with his eyes. She could touch him. She had to touch him. She had to know. Only then would she understand that it truly was enough.

She took his face in her hands and something in her just gave out. He saw it in her eyes. He watched it even before a single drop of tear slipped free from them.

“Vally,” she moaned. “Is it really you?”

Valdan nodded slowly.

Releasing both weapons in his hands, he took her in his arms and kissed her.

Nothing had ever tasted more beautiful. If there was anything the gods would be envious, it was this.

…

The world was a little blurry. Aiden refused to admit that it was from the tears in his eyes. In fact, if anyone chose to insist that it was, then they would have to take up arms to defend their position of slander. Whether they were guilty or not was not the bone of content.

When Valdan released his sword and took Melvet in his arms, Aiden drew the weapon and stretched his awareness as far and wide as he could, pushing his perception until they reached their limits.

Safety.

It was all that mattered here and now. He saw Ted cock a teasing brow at his alertness and ignored his brother while Valdan kissed the woman he loved behind him.

How long they kissed was a question he could not answer, but he knew when they stopped. It was in the sound of footsteps in the grass.

A firm hand landed on his shoulder and Aiden turned to face its owner.

Valdan looked at him with a kind smile.

Aiden smirked. “Done sucking lips?”

A part of him could not help but tease Valdan.

When Valdan chuckled, Aiden was happy to hear it.

“Children,” Valdan said still smiling, “should not comment on the activities of adults.”

Aiden shrugged, sheathing his sword. “Perhaps.”

“Perhaps,” Valdan agreed, then he placed his other hand on the back of Aiden’s neck and pulled him in for a hug.

Aiden froze in Valdan’s hold for a moment, stiffening from the sudden level of physical contact. Somewhere in the back he heard Ted laugh while Nosrath fought off in a distance he currently could not care about.

Valdan released him, hands on his shoulders. “Let me look at you, boy,” he said with the happiness of a man. “You are still against physical touch, I see.”

Aiden could not shake the smile that came. “I’ve been through a lot since you fell asleep.”

“Really?” Valdan’s lips stretched with a knowing smile. “Does ‘a lot’ have anything to do with Saint Killer?”

Aiden blinked. “You heard that?”

“I heard a lot,” Valdan confirmed. “And I’m glad I could hear so much.”

Now Aiden was worried. Valdan was not some pious devotee to the church, but he did surrender to the church and love the church.

What would he think of him if he knew the truth of the title.

He won’t think of me as a heretic, right?

There was so much worry suddenly bubbling within him that Aiden felt like that child who had wanted nothing but to impress Ted when they were little.

He swallowed. “Well, the thing is…”

For some indispensable reason he could not bring himself to say the words.

“I’m listening,” Valdan said, patient. Melvet had folded arms behind him. “Tell me so that we can move on to the next thing.”

“Well,” Aiden scratched the back of his neck nervously. “The thing is… I killed a [Saint].”

“Oh.” Valdan’s brows furrowed while Melvet’s shot high up on her forehead. “Which one?”

Which one?

“Uhm.” Aiden wasn’t sure what was going on here. “Clerent? The one we met at the Naranoff territory.”

Valdan nodded slowly. “I see. In your personal judgement, was he asking for it?”

This was not how Aiden had expected the conversation to go. However, he considered the words because he did not want to lie to Valdan.

Had Clerent been asking for it?

The fool had declared him a [Demon King] and had proceeded to try and kill him in all his self righteousness.

By all the gods the answer was an easy one.

Aiden met Valdan’s eyes. “Yes.”

Valdan nodded. “I see. Then that’s fine by me.”

He patted Aiden’s shoulders once more in reassurance then dropped his hands.

“I would hug you again, but you would just stiffen up,” he said with a grin. “No need making you freeze like a deer in headlights.” He paused to look at Ted from over Aiden’s shoulder. “Did I use that one right?”

Aiden looked back in time to find Ted with a cocky grin and a thumbs up for Valdan.

Valdan chuckled. “I’m learning.”

The joy was reaching out. Aiden felt like years of worry had melted suddenly away.

“I got one hug, but you would’ve hugged him twice?” Melvet asked in all the petulance of a girlfriend. And just like that, Valdan froze.

He looked at Aiden. In this moment, he was a man who knew he had said the wrong words.

Aiden smirked. “Like a dear in fucking headlights.”

“Why do I get one hug and your boyfriend gets two, Vally?” Melvet demanded.

“That's a good question.” Aiden tilted his head very slowly to the side, smile so wide it hurt. “Tell us, Vally.”

Valdan paused at the emphasis of his pet name and Aiden’s unmoving grin and sighed. Fixing his face into one of sincere apology, he prepared himself and turned to Melvet.

“Well, you certainly deserve—”

Melvet cut him off with a hug. It was strong and tight. She buried her face into his chest and breathed him in, fingers locked behind his back.

Aiden just stood there and watched. He would be lying if he said that he was not happy for his friend.

He paused, blinked.

Yes, he admitted defiantly, as if challenging himself.

He was happy for his friend.

After a moment, Valdan separated from Melvet, but they remained joined at the hip, pelvic to pelvic.

He gave her a kiss on the head before turning away to look at Aiden. By the gods, Aiden had often thought the man did not have a gentle bone in his body.

I guess everyone is weak to love.

It made him think of Tasha. He banished it immediately. That had not been love. It had been the infatuation of two teenagers who had only had each other as friends for so long.

“So,” Valdan asked him, “how are we getting that heart?”

Aiden blinked. “Excuse me? You just woke up.”

“And Nosrath is still up and kicking from what I hear.”

“Well… I just thought that…”

“Please tell me you have a plan.”

“Well… I kinda…”

Valdan stopped him with a raised finger. “But before that.” He returned his attention to Melvet. “Babe?”

Melvet saw something in his eyes and heard it in his tone. It made her shrink into herself like a scolded child.

“Val,” she said in a small voice.

Valdan sighed but still pressed forward. His next words were precise, even if delivered gently.

“Please tell me that what I’m looking at is not the [Spear of Valsin] strapped to your back.”

Melvet made a face. “It might be.”

Valdan’s jaw dropped.

“Tradis is going to kill me.”