Open Chronicles The Eternum Crosses the Channel

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

Steve motioned for Ghost to put Maho down, as he went over and picked up the small pot of stew, that had grown cold from all the drama. He slowly stirred the contents with a wooden spoon while he used his other hand to heat the stew. Steve made his way back, and stood between Maho and his body,

"You know I always find stew to taste better the second time around."

While Steve talked he placed down the pot, and picked up Maho and held a potato above the skull,

"When you reheat it, it causes the flavours to awaken even stronger than their first time."

He pulled Maho's soul into the potato,

"I think it would be a waste to throw it away now, don't you?"

Steve shoved the potato into Maho's body's chest where it seemed to pass through,

"Especially when it has so much flavour to offer now."

In all of Sparhawk's years being a Sorcerer, never had he seen a body be put back into motion using a potato and some stew.

Sparhawk was not ready for today.

He felt as his soul lifted itself back into his own body. He felt his spirit being pulled towards a bright, incessant light. From that light however, lay eyes of red, like a spot-light whilst at sea, piercing through the fog. They seemed to stare through Sparhawk, with only silence accompanying it. However, as he began to feel his limbs once more, the breath entering his lungs, he heard three words through his clouded thoughts;

You're ours now
​

He didn't know what that meant, but it sounded ominous.

He would've liked to think about it more perhaps, but he was struck by the unyielding, anguish-inducing, searing pain coming from his knee, which was utterly fractured by Steve's staff collapsing into it.

"ARGHHHHH!!!" Was the first words that had come out of his mouth, if you could call them words, since his body was inhabited by Imamu.

As he sipped Steve's soup, he had to admit, it did make him feel a little better. Whether that be due to it's magical properties, or that a warm soup in his belly was all he needed, he did not know. He did know, however much he wanted to deny it; it was delicious.

"I wish it were only that easy. Who would take me? Knowing all i've done." He spoke, with a sad, solemn tone.

 

[TTamark]

"K, first if you can live with yourself you can live anywhere. Second: most people probably have no idea about what you did unless you told everyone in a bout of self pity. Most people are too busy with their own shit to pay attention to your drama. Third: if people do know that you were fighting with a warlord, they probably don't know anything more, they don't know the full story. You believed in him, and are a good man, your guilt over this whole thing makes that clear enough. Unless they know people themselves who were in the siege they will accept that you made a mistake, or were mislead, after all most people know very little of what happened. You get to paint your own picture... Just accept yourself and be good, if you can manage that then you will be fine. People will make their own excuses for you at that point. Honestly you will be surprised what people are willing to accept if they believe in you. They might even be willing to join their friend in a siege."

Steve shook his head,

"In the end the person who cares the most about what you did is you, and people will take you if they think you are useful. So be who you want to be now, and be useful to those around you. You'll be fine."

Steve racked his brain, looking for more ways to reassure Maho,

"This is how I know, when you came to kill the undead horde, did you even know I was leading it, or did you only know about the event? It is the same people will know about the siege, they will not know about you. You are not as important as you think Maho. The world will not damn you for your deeds, it likely did not notice you, or has already forgotten about you. Who you matter to are those who will meet you, not those who have heard about you.

So forgive me if I repeat myself, but when you meet people in the future be who you want to be and that will be who you are, just stop... now before I say this keep in mind it is completely fine to mourn, but stop being so selfish, stop feeling sorry for yourself, stop punishing yourself, stop focussing on what others think of you, and instead be a person who will help the world even if it hates you, even if it hurts, because there is some good in this world Mr. Sparhawk, and it is worth fighting for..."

Steve smacked Maho's knee with his wooden spoon to make sure the nerves had connected properly,

"And stop being a little b*tch!"

 

[TTamark]

Realization suddenly swept across Steve's face,

"I'm sorry I am not really good at relationships, believe it or not. I this whole time just assumed you needed to work on you, but now your words might be finally sinking in, or I am just messing up again, HAHA, but... uh... if what you need right now is just a friend, or not even that just someone to be there for you... I guess I can give you a hand.

Saving the world can wait. I still have time to do that, and with these guys I doubt time will be much of an issue, but you... I... what would be the point of... If you need me I want to be there for you, no matter who you are, or were. Everyone deserves to be saved.

Maybe you don't need saving, cause you are going to be fine, but I still worry about you feeling alone, and... if you are worried about no one else being there for you, I will be there... If that is what you want!"

 

[Amankh Kaltar]

Amankh looked on to the waking Maho, wordlessly listening to his immediate shout of pain, no doubt due to the rather sorry condition of his knee. "The stew will dull the pain and aid in its healing, but..." He considered the injury for a moment before beckoning one of the nearby robed undead closer. An orcish skeleton came forward, clothes adorned in shamanistic feathers and bones as a remaining connection to their once-living past. Gesturing to the knee, the undead shaman nodded, kneeling down by Maho as her hands hovered above the injury, verdant green energy flowing out of her bones into the fractured knee. Healers were rare within the Eternum, due to the relatively higher pain tolerance among undead compared to other races, but there was always some usefulness in repairing damaged bones. "There."

"Find solace in this," he added as he looked to Maho, "news of the siege may have spread far, but few outside of Belgrath will put a face to that news. Even if there are some who realize, there is something to be said about one trying to make amends for their past." Amankh allowed Steve to take over, brief surprise rising at the sudden striking of Maho's knee. The shaman healer shot a disgruntled look at the necromancer as she continued her efforts to mend the knee, green magic once more enveloping the injury.

 

[Maho 'Jerik' Sparhawk]

He listened to the two, the shaman healing his knee, much like the shaman who saved his life at Belgrath, the green energy flowing through it, repairing the damage left by the staff's impact.

You'll be fine."

Stop punishing yourself.

The world has already forgotten about you.

​

You'll be fine.

Sparhawk didn't want to be 'fine'. He wanted to live. But, even he knew, that a life of adventure, of substance, of excitement, was out of the cards for him. He knew all the quests he used to go on, all the people he used to be able to meet. In order to repent for what he's done, but not only that, do something constructive with his life, he had to lead it differently.

But what could he do?

He wasn't a warrior. He wasn't a soldier. He couldn't be a father.

What could he do?

Then it hit him.

In his entire life, who's the one person he had an impact on? Was there a single soul for whom they could owe him thanks for something he's done.

Myles Widogast, my Apprentice...

He leant himself against the table, finding balance in his repaired knee.

"If you have any sort of rowboat, it'd be appreciated. If all goes well, you'll be able to find me at the College of Elbion. I'm sure Steve knows the way." He said, thankful in his tone, but not in his speech.

I swear, if I have to swim back home...

 

[TTamark]

A breath escaped Steve lips, one he had not realized he was holding. What was he waiting for, why was Maho taking so long to respond? Why did Maho's words hurt? Like he was testing if a knife was by running it across himself, he ran through what Maho said, and then again, and again. Why did it hurt?

This is what he wanted right? This was what he and Amankh were aiming for: for Maho to go off and live his life with some kind of purpose again. Or was it just to live life? Either way it seemed like Maho would do it, that he was fine. So why did those words feel like a blow to the gut, knocking all wind out of him?

I-I...

There was so much that had been said, and so little that had been addressed, or answered. With all the words that Steve had said, why did it feel like he hadn't communicate what he wanted? He and this man were practically strangers, so why did it not feel that way to him, why did he want more out of him? He owes you nothing! Everything you offered, or gave was given freely. Why did he not take it? Why am I crying?

It wasn't like I could could have just run away from saving the world... but maybe walking away from it for a bit would have been ok. It wasn't like Maho could have ever lived up to the hopes you placed on him, even if you didn't know about them. Still it hurt every time when one fell. Why couldn't someone save me... just once... why can't a hero show up just to save me? From what? I don't know.

I saved one person right? I at least proved that I can save one person... please. Steve picked up the knife again slowly drawing it against him so every word would sink in and leave its mark, so he would be able to find any hidden meaning. In the end they might have been just words, but Steve held onto them like his life depended on it, like if he was physically holding onto hope and if it failed him now he would fall into a deep dark chasm, and be forced to admit that if he couldn't save one man he stood no chance at saving everyone?
H-he's going to the College of Elbion, I-I must have... y-y-Yes! I must have... So why does it hurt?

In real time: Maho finished his words, Steve stumbled over his own, "I-I..." Blinked removing some moisture from the corner of his eye, "Elbion is a whole world away, listen I have a ship a few days behind the rest, it carries nothing, but chicken-orc hybrids, some of the normal kind of orcs, and a whole lot of potatoes. I think I could fly you there, then you'll have something a touch better than a row boat, eh? HAHA" Steve shot the man a wide toothy smile as he threw his head back in laughter.

 

[Amankh Kaltar]

The undead shaman finished her work, a last surge of healing magic flowing out of her weathered bones before she stood and nodded, leaving the hree to their own conversation. Amankh gave a brief appreciative nod to the skeleton before returning his gaze to the sorcerer as he at last responded.

"I've always solace in teaching another, both in life and in undeath. Hopefully, it will provide the same to you," he replied, his memories going back to time spent training pupils in the arcane, within the Abtati Empire and the Eternum as well. It seemed the sorcerer had found some purpose to live once more, something that would motivate him beyond awaiting the day his soul is claimed.

Amankh glanced over to Steve as he thought over expendable means of transportation they could offer. However, his train of thought were halted by the strange expression that the necromancer's face wore. Tears were blinked away as words came out stuttered and uncertain, something that didn't quite match his typical behavior. However, that quickly was replaced with a more characteristic tone as Steve offered up one of the lesser used boats. Nothing seemed to warrant the odd earlier shift in emotion, he thought. Dismissing it for now, he nodded. "Indeed, that would do. Your mount had flown off when your body was possessed, so a boat should suffice in place of it. From there, you can sail to Elbion."