#ronin talks about the iliad

[foxglow-diner]

I finished book four of the Iliad and I’m laughing my ass off. 

I don’t like Agamemnon’s treatment of women. I don’t like most of his actions and handling of business either. But gadamn is that man funny.

He straight up called Odysseus out for eating all kinds of food and drink during banquets, then said he didn’t deserve that because he wasn’t fighting against the Trojans. Odysseus (a dumbass after my own heart) replied with a line about how “Telemachus’ loving father” can actually kick ass, but maybe Agamemnon should sit and do some battle analysis for strategy before running around with a sword. 

Prior to Agamemnon galavanting about, shooting insults at everyone, Menelaus got shot with the arrow, right? Agamemnon said, “But I will suffer terrible grief for you, Menelaus, if you die now, if you fill out your destiny now–––and I go back to parching Argos in disgrace.” His brother was–––as far as he knew–––dying and he still managed to toss in how he will feel about it. On one hand, I understand how he thought that might’ve been a comfort for Menelaus, knowing that his brother would mourn. However, I do feel like given his previous reaction of cradling and checking on Menelaus, that it goes without being said. lol

A couple paragraphs down, Menelaus broke the news to Agamemnon that the arrow hadn’t actually pierced a vital spot. Sure, he was bleeding, but his armor did its job. Agamemnon responded with, “Pray god, you’re right, dear brother Menelaus!” Like, yes lil fella! He is right!

It’s super niche, but it made me laugh.

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 38/50)

Notes: Let’s try this “finish posting all chapters” thing again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Nice place," Eliath noted as Emery pushed him through the front door of the inn, "This is where Seara's been staying?"

"Yea, he's been safe," Emery assured him, "The leader of our guild is... protective, let's say," he leaned over Eliath's shoulder and gave him a smile, "Lucky you're in a wheelchair and have no strength, or you might try killing him!"

Eliath squinted at the medic in distrust, but Emery just stood straighter and chuckled at his own joke, stopping when he caught sight of Iliad stepping out of the dining hall, "Hey, where's Sage?" he called, and Iliad stopped, staring at Eliath.

"His room. He was supposed to leave with Dyria to bring the request items to the bar, but Dyria was being a jealous child so Sage had to spend like, five hours calming the dumbass down. Dyria just went back to grab him to take the request items to the bar," he pointed, "Who's this guy?"

"Back from the dead," Emery introduced, "Evidently guild Historia is a lot more durable than we thought. Meet Sage's brother Eliath."

Iliad's head reeled in surprise, "His brother? Seriously? Huh, your landsknecht showed up this morning."

Eliath curled his hands into tight fists, his jaw locking, "Where is he?" he asked stiffly, "I'm going to kill him."

Iliad arched an eyebrow and pointed towards the hall, "He went to talk with Sage a bit before Dyria walked back there. Is the guy that bad?"

"What's going on?" Vien piped, slipping past Iliad and pushing him further into the entry, Nirim and Arcan following with Na'axri trotting at their heels, bounding forward when he caught sight of Eliath, who beamed and leaned forward, laughing as the wolf jumped and propped his paws on the wounded man's legs.

"Hey bud!" he laughed, wrapping his arms around the wolf's neck and scratching behind his ears, "I've never been so happy to see you."

"Who's this?" Vien asked, and Arcan frowned.

"Are his legs okay?"

"Yea, this is Eliath, Sage's older brother who we thought was dead. Evidently, he's just been in a coma the past three months, so he's a gimp right now, completely useless."

Eliath looked over at where Emery was standing to his left, "You have the worst bedside manner for a medic."

"I missed that lesson, my bad," Emery shrugged, leaning one hand against the back of the wheelchair as Zed shuffled up to his left side, the blanket from the hospital still around his shoulders, "Well since we're all here, leader of Historia, this is guild Halo," Emery waved an arm out at everyone, "The guild that's been with Sage till now. The only two missing are our leader, Dyria, and Sage."

"I see," Eliath nodded his head, letting Na'axri jump back to the ground, though the wolf stayed close to him, his chin sitting on Eliath's knee and his tail wagging, "Sage joined Halo after the attack?"

"Not at first," Iliad admitted, folding his arms, "He had amnesia so he was just waiting to figure out what happened to you all. A recovery team returned with the news that all they found was blood and torn clothes, so we thought you were all dead. Dyria asked him to join Halo after that news came, so he wouldn't be alone with no memories."

"I'm grateful to you all for looking after him then," Eliath smiled softly, petting Na'axri's head, "At least he wasn't lonely."

"Oh no, not lonely in any sense of the word," Vien sang, and Iliad elbowed him in the ribs harshly, hushing him.

Eliath arched an eyebrow suspiciously and Emery brightened, "Lord I missed a lot, haven't I? Is that why it's taken five hours to get the request items to the bar?"

"Something like that," Iliad deadpanned.

"I don't like the sound of that," Eliath decided, and Emery chuckled, looking over towards the hall when he heard footsteps, his eyes widening when Dyria shuffled into the room, head bowed low and sword in his right hand, his left hand holding a bloody dagger.

"Dyria?!" Emery left Eliath and hurried over to the protector, grabbing his shoulders and shaking him a little, "Hey, what the hell is that knife?!"

"Where's Sage?" Iliad asked, walking up to his brother with wide eyes.

"He... gone...," Dyria mumbled, holding the knife up and staring down at it, "That... bastard... took him."

"What?"

"Flandr," Eliath bit out, and Dyria lifted his head, narrowing his eyes.

"Who is he?"

"Calm down," Emery squeezed his shoulders, "This is Eliath."

"Eliath," Dyria's eyes widened in shock, "How?"

"Three-month coma and gimpy legs is the only way I can explain it," Emery said, taking the bloody knife from Dyria and turning, walking a few steps away and pausing, "Did... did that landsknecht hurt Sage?"

Dyria shook his head, "I don't know, there was black mist, Sage was on the ground," he lifted his hand and raked his fingers through his hair, pinching his eyes closed and yanking at his black locks, "I couldn't protect him."

"This blood is... not right," Emery murmured, sliding his thumb along the side of the blade and looking at the blood on his skin, "Black... cursed. You said there was black mist?" Dyria nodded slowly, sheathing his sword, "When did this happen?"

"I... don't know," Dyria admitted, "After I just... sat there. I don't know for how long, but the sun is a lot lower in the sky now, so... around noon maybe? Or... later... it's dark out... it was still light when it happened... I... can't think..."

Iliad squeezed Dyria's shoulder, looking over at Emery, "So that fucker was tricking us when he came here looking for Sage? He just... up and kidnapped him? What do we do?"

"We wait," Eliath said suddenly, and Emery looked up to see he was staring down at the necklace in his hand, the one with the green gem, "I don't know for certain, but I think my guild is all in the same place, and if Flandr took the time to grab Seara... he's likely bringing him to where the rest of them are. If that's the case, he won't be gone long."

"What do you mean?" Emery asked, and Eliath smiled a little, leaning back in his chair and looking over at the medic.

"Hexers, you know? They're intuitive, and mine will be looking for me soon," he looked back at his necklace, undoing the clasp and securing the chain around his neck, "We just have to wait. Now, this might be forward, but I'm a little hungry. I haven't eaten food in three months."

"You seem pretty sure about this," Arcan stated, and Eliath smiled at him.

"I trust my guild's abilities, that's all."

"Guess I gotta keep an eye on you for a little longer then," Emery sighed, "Pick a corner and I'll roll you into it."

"Em," Iliad squinted at the medic, "No."

~

"Are we there yet?" Naylin panted, leaning against the brick wall that Sage helped him against, "I don't think I can walk much longer."

"Yea, we're almost there," Sage assured, taking Naylin's arm and pulling it around his neck again, "Just a little further, I promise. Lesai?"

The hexer said nothing as he leaned against Sage, and the survivalist sighed, focusing ahead and struggling to walk with his old friends stumbling along on either side of him. When the inn came into view his relief was almost overwhelming, shoving the doors open and holding his breath as he stepped inside, Naylin pulling away from him and swaying a little on his feet as he held his left upper arm with his right hand.

"There are three chandeliers up there," he stated, and Sage gaped at him.

"I think your fever is worse."

"I think you're right."

Lesai darted forward suddenly, and Sage gasped, following after him with Naylin at his heel, "Wait, Lesai!"

The hexer ran directly down the hall, turning left when they reached a split in the halls and shot down that direction. Sage idly realized he'd never been down this way before, although his and Dyria's room was just behind him. He never really bothered to actually explore the inn, but it turned out it was a lot bigger than he expected.

Lesai threw open one of the doors and Sage stopped behind him with Naylin, his eyes growing wide when he looked into the room. It was similar to the tearoom, but not as big, more like an extra living space that wasn't used as much because it was so deep in the inn. It was nice enough, though again not as furnished as the tearoom at the front.

There was a fireplace burning at the far wall and a few couches and armchairs, but what Sage focused on was the man sitting near the fireplace in a chair with wheels and a familiar wolf at his feet. The three of them ended up launching themselves at Eliath all at once, and the survivalist held his arms up in shock.

"Boss!"

"Eliath!"

Eliath just sighed out a laugh and wrapped his arms around the three of them the best he could, "Thank god you guys are alive. I knew you were, but damn."

"What're you in a wheelchair for?!" Naylin demanded, and Eliath chuckled.

"Three-month comas sort of take away the ability to walk," he smiled brightly when Sage dropped to his knees in front of him, tears on his cheeks as he clung to Eliath's knees.

"I th-thought you were dead!" he sobbed, and Eliath leaned forward, taking his face with his hands and kissing his forehead.

"I'm sorry, Seara," he whispered, wiping the tears from his face, "I'm not, though, I'm okay. It may take me a bit of time to get back on my feet, but your medic friend said this isn't permanent."

Sage gasped and scrambled to his feet, turning and wiping his eyes, "Where is everyone?"

"Well," Eliath breathed the word and leaned back in his chair, "Your medic went to get a few plates of food to bring back, its dinner time here evidently, and that strange dark hunter went with him. Who were the others... Iliad, he and that gunner, Arcan I think, they went out patrolling to see if they could find you, and the musician was having some... asthma attack, so he's resting with the ronin watching after him. All of them will probably be back soon, they haven't been gone long."

"What about Dyria?" Sage asked, turning to the door again, "Is he okay? He's probably so upset."

"That guy," Eliath hummed, "He looked like he was ready to murder."

"He probably was," Sage admitted, lowering himself to sit at the end of one of the couches as Eliath continued.

"At first, he tried leaving," Eliath explained, "Sword drawn, he said he was going to burn the city to the ground, but the medic somehow got him to calm him down, I think he injected something into him with a needle. After that he stubbornly locked himself in his room. He wanted to go looking for you, but I told everyone to stay put," he smiled and looked over at where Lesai was kneeling, his head leaning against the arm of his chair, "I knew you would get out and find me, so I wasn't too worried."

"I am... way relieved," Naylin decided, taking a step forward and stumbling a bit, grabbing the back of the second couch, "So... I'm going to lie down. That cool?"

"Yes," Sage stood up, "I'll get you blankets and pillows, ah I have to get Emery, he can help you with your fever. Lesai you need to lie down too. Before that though I need to talk to Dyria," he turned for the door, "I'll be back!"

He shut the door quietly behind him and hurried down the hall until he'd reached his and Dyria's shared bedroom, turning the doorknob and sighing when he found it locked, so he instead knocked, "Dyria? Open the door, it's me. I'm home-."

The door was jerked open, and Sage found himself pressed against his protector's chest, sighing heavily and winding his arms around the man's waist as the weight of the past two days fell onto him, hiding his face against Dyria's shoulder, "I'm home. I'm sorry, I must have scared you-."

"No," Dyria whispered, his fingers raking through Sage's hair, "No, I'm so sorry, Sage. I said I'd protect you, I said I'd never let anything hurt you or scar you. I'm sorry, Sage."

Sage shook his head against Dyria's chest, pulling back just enough to slide his hands up the protector's chest to hold his face, pushing himself onto his toes and kissing him firmly, tears of relief slipping down his cheeks to join the kiss and making it salty. He parted the kiss only so he could bury his face in Dyria's neck, clinging to him as he suddenly became exhausted, wanting nothing more than to sleep with his protector holding him.

"I have to bring blankets," Sage said, pulling back and wiping the tears from his cheeks, "Naylin and Lesai... I found them, and they're sick and tired, I need extra blankets and pillows."

"Sage," Dyria took his wrists, pulling his hands from his eyes, "You need to rest, you look exhausted. Your wrists are rubbed raw, and your throat," he lowered a hand to touch the bruise around Sage's neck, "Who did this?"

"I'm okay."

"No, I want you to lie down, we'll let Emery take care of those three."

"Dyria," Sage laughed softly, "I'll sleep later, I want to look after them first. Please?"

Dyria sighed and nodded, closing the door behind him and wrapping an arm around Sage's shoulders, "Fine, but you're not leaving my side, understand?"

"I'm alright with that, just don't be overprotective."

"I have no control over that."

Sage laughed softly and shook his head. Dyria followed him to grab extra blankets, standing at his side and holding his arms out to take the blankets, and Sage collected an armful of pillows before striding down the hall, pushing the door open with his foot when he reached it and smiling when Emery looked up from where he was standing at the couch leaning over Naylin.

"Sage!" the medic stepped back and waited for Sage to set down the pillows before hugging him tightly, stepping back and slipping his hands onto Sage's neck, wincing, "Damn it what happened? Hang on, sit down."

"Like I've been telling Dyria, I'm okay," Sage tried to assure as he sat down on the other couch, his chin lifting up so Emery could cast a refresh spell.

"The bruising is still there but the swelling should've gone down," Emery said, "Does it hurt?"

"No, I'm okay," Sage promised, "How's Naylin?"

Emery looked over his shoulder, "His fever is pretty high, and his shoulder is really messed up. I'm almost tempted to just take him to the hospital. I'll go talk to Lynus a little later. He's sleeping though, so that's good," he rolled his head to the other side, "Your hexer won't let me near him though."

Sage laughed softly as Eliath smiled apologetically, "Sorry, I can take care of him," he reached down over the right side of his chair where Lesai was sitting leaning against the seat, stroking his red hair back, "I don't think his fever is too bad."

"Still," Emery huffed, taking the blankets from Dyria so the protector could sit down beside Sage, "I guess a medica should take care of his fever, at least have him eat something, and you too Mr Gimp."

"Please stop calling me that," Eliath said with a roll of his eyes, and Sage laughed, leaning heavily against Dyria's side, his head against his shoulder.

He stood up after a moment, however, when the door opened and the last four members of their guild entered the room, lunging at him the same way Sage had lunged at Eliath, crowding around him in a group hug he found himself stuck in the middle of.

"You scared us half to death!" Vien yelled, his arms wrapped around Sage's waist, face pressed against his shoulder as Iliad kept his arms around his neck.

Even Arcan and Nirim were hugging him from front and back, and Emery laughed, petting Vien and Iliad on the back, "I'm okay, I'm home. I promise I'll try my hardest not to let that happen again, okay?"

"You seriously better not," Iliad said, pulling away and folding his arms in a bad attempt at looking angry, "I swear Dyria was about to slaughter someone."

Sage hummed and sat back down beside the protector, leaning against him as the rest of the guild took their seats while Emery pulled a medica from his bag and handed it to Eliath, "Now that everyone's here, I think we need to know what happened," the medic stated, draping a blanket over Naylin's sleeping form before propping his head on a pillow.

Sage frowned and dropped his gaze, lifting his hand to his throat, "A man names Aerlorn is behind what happened to me, and what happened to Historia three months ago. He's looking for some... special stone called Lapis Galəksē. He somehow got it in his head that Historia had come into contact with it, so he cursed Flandr and attacked us."

"Lapis...," Emery repeated, reaching into his bag and pulling out his notebook, "Hold on a second, I think I've heard of that."

"What do you mean he was cursed?" Eliath asked, and Sage bit his lip.

"Do you really think he would've attacked us on his own? There's no way," he laid his head against Dyria's shoulder, "His arm was cursed, that hexer said so, that he was controlling Flandr, that the curse was in his blood, he could kill him if he wanted to, that the only reason Flandr did this was because they threatened to kill us if he didn't comply."

"Curse," Emery looked over at where their dark hunter was sitting against the wall, "Zed, the grotto where you were cursed, what did the mosaic say again?"

"Lapis Galəksē," Zed said, staring at his hands.

Eliath clenched his teeth and turned his head to look at the fire before dropping his attention to Lesai, who had his knees to his chest, arms wrapped around them and chin on his knees. He picked up one of the blankets on his lap that Emery left him and draped it over Lesai's head. The hexer was so used to being able to hide with the hood of his cloak, but as it appeared to have been torn off and frayed, Eliath figured hiding under a blanket was the next best thing. In any case, considering what was happening, it would be best if no one could see Lesai's face very clearly.

"Do you know what that is?" Emery asked, "That stone I mean."

Eliath looked over at the medic, one hand still on Lesai's head, "What? Oh, no, sorry," he leaned back in his chair, "Never heard of it. What makes it so important that a hexer would try to destroy my guild?"

"He wasn't really clear about it," Sage admitted, "Just mentioned it had power that he wanted for some reason."

"That can't be good," Eliath sighed, leaning forward with his elbows against his knees, "We'll have to take care of him somehow. I don't know how long it'll take me to get back on my feet though, and I don't know if they'll make a move before then."

"Don't worry about that," Emery assured, arms folded, "Halo will take care of it."

"We will?" Iliad looked over at Dyria, who hummed, staring across the room at the wall opposite him.

"I couldn't ask that of you," Eliath argued, "You've already done enough, and this has nothing to do with your guild."

"On the contrary," Dyria disagreed, shifting his eyes to the survivalist, "We got involved the day we found Sage in the Labyrinth. This has everything to do with us."

"Not to mention Zedimir's curse is really similar to Flandr's," Sage added, "And Zed has heard of the Lapis Galəksē. Maybe what happened to him is connected to Aerlorn somehow."

"Maybe this hexer is actually the same one who hurt Zed," Emery said, sitting down in an armchair and pulling out another book, flipping it open, "From what I discovered while researching hexer curses, there are a few ways to disperse the curses. The easiest way is for the hexer who cast the curse to take it back. Some simple curses can be cured easily with advanced medication and cure spells. The least sought after way to disperse a curse is for the hexer to be destroyed," he closed his book, leaning his elbow against the arm of his chair and setting his cheek in his hand as he looked over at Sage, "What sounds good to you?"

"Destroy," Dyria said, and Eliath gaped at him as Sage smacked his leg.

"Stop that," he chided, "Maybe we don't have to kill him. If we can talk to him, somehow convince him to disperse the curse he has on Flandr, and the others. There are quite a few he's cursed that are following him because they have no choice."

"Destroying him would be the easiest way to free them all," Dyria stated, and Sage rolled his eyes, patting his knee.

"You're going to get yourself arrested with that thought process," Emery warned, pulling his glasses off and cleaning them on his shirt, "Just cause you're super pissy about what happened doesn't mean you can go around stabbing everyone you don't like. You need serious therapy."

Dyria narrowed his eyes at Emery, but relaxed when Sage leaned closer and laid against his chest to subdue him and calm him down, "For now we need to focus on taking care of the people we have here," he decided, wrapping an arm around Sage's shoulders, "We can decide what we're going to do tomorrow. Everyone's been stressed out, so we need sleep."

"Good call," Emery agreed, slipping his book into his bag, "Off to bed everyone."

"Considering what's happened," Dyria started, "I don't want anyone to be alone. For now, we should camp out in this room. I'd feel more comfortable if we were all together."

"Can we do that?" Vien asked, and Dyria shrugged.

"I don't see why not."

"It should be fine," Emery agreed, standing up and setting his bag on the chair, "Matron said no one used this room much because the windows don't open. Someone broke them a while back and she's had no time to fix them. Plus, it's not as nice as the rooms in the front. I'll go see if she has some extra cots, blankets, and pillows, and grab Lynus to check on Naylin."

"I'll grab Blaise," Arcan said as he stood up, "It's past his bedtime anyway."

"Great, you can help me bring the cots in too," Emery said cheerfully, "Let's go. Everyone else just relax a bit, we'll be back soon."

Sage watched him go and sighed, shutting his eyes. Everything seemed to be calmed down now and settled, the rest could be figured out later, because he needed to sleep, and smiled softly when Dyria grabbed a blanket from the pile beside them, draping it around Sage's shoulders and holding him securely against his side, pressing a soft kiss to his temple.

After the fear and uncertainty he'd felt, it was nice to be safe in his protector's arms, and terribly easy to fall asleep, breathing easily despite how the bruise on his neck and throat still ached a little. It would be fine. Historia was still alive, he was back with the one he loved and safe in his warm arms. Everything else could be figured out later.

[foxglow-diner]

Book Six of The Iliad

To say that this tore me to shreds would be accurate. It had me banging on my book, sobbing. 

Hector, Andromache, and Scamandrius are such a quaint, little family. Each member means the world to the other. Knowing the fate of the trio was heartbreaking. That newborn, a newborn is thrown off the walls of Troy by Achilles’ son, Neoptolemus. 

If you haven’t seen my post before this one, I’ll save you the trouble: fuck Achilles for ruining this perfect family.

Andromache’s family was killed by Achilles too. Crying to Hector, she told him, 

“You, Hector–––you are my father now, my noble mother, a brother too, and you are my husband, young and warm and strong! Pity me, please! Take your stand on the rampart here, before you orphan your son and make your wife a widow.”

It’s a breathtaking one-two punch, that she didn't mean to hurt him. It was an effort to prevent him from dying in the war. 

Hector then speaks of what would happen if he were to die. It reads as a more vocalized thought process, scaring himself into not allowing himself to let Troy be taken. He consoles Andromache,

“No, no, let the earth come piling over my dead body before I hear your cries, I hear you dragged away!”

The reasoning for the the verbiage (for anyone who doesn’t know, or lacks context) is that women, when something happened to their husbands, especially battle-born widows, would be taken as prizes, or sold into slavery. Hector too Andromache that that wasn’t going to happen. 

And the two quotes, one from either side of the relationship, are just such rich declarations of love. This portrait of the pristine family is what had me bugging, absolutely ascended, eyeballs rolled into my head. The romance, the concept of family, and the knowledge of knowing the end result was so painful. 

[foxglow-diner]

The Iliad Book Five

I think I need to make a tally of how many times I’ve cried while reading the Iliad. So far I know damn well that I cried over Pandarus.

That shit hurted. 

He was screwed over by Athena twice. The first, she tricked him into shooting Menelaus. Instead of his shot being fatal, she prevented the arrow from hitting a life threatening area. The second time, Athena guided Diomedes’ spear, thus killing Pandarus. He tried to repair his honor after being the one who was goaded into shooting Menelaus. For that he was killed by the same goddess. 

When Aeneas tried to protect Pandarus’ body, he was hit by a boulder that Diomedes began to use. It shattered Pandarus’ hip, tore flesh, and made his vision go black. 

This leads to another point I want to discuss. One that I also want to somehow address in my thesis. The Trojans and the gods, versus the Argives and the gods.

It can be summarized as such: While the Trojans are trying to genuinely fight this war–––this statement includes the gods helping them–––the Argives are committing atrocious war crimes. 

Aphrodite is a rough topic in the Trojan’s defense as is Paris. That situation cannot really be defended on their behalf. Helen most definitely didn’t deserve what happened to her, and Aphrodite and Paris’ treatment of her is abhorrent. 

Diomedes actually mentioned this when he stabbed Aphrodite, but then ended up trickling into how she shouldn’t be saving her son, even though Diomedes himself, was super charged by Athena at the time. 

Now, Apollo, Ares, and Hephaestus are trying to provide support to the Trojans without being completely overbearing. Ares only stepped in when Apollo advised. Ares did, however, stay out of battle at the beginning of Book Five because Athena told him to (for her personal gain, I may add). When he stepped into battle, he didn’t advise, he didn’t imbue anyone with power. He gave one rousing speech or two, then helped fight. Hephaestus saved his own child. As did Aphrodite for Aeneas after Pandarus was killed. Apollo solemn appeared at this time, but he still offered aid where and when he could.

Meanwhile, Athena and Hera are going balls deep interfering. Athena super charged Diomedes, and even gave him the order to attack Aphrodite if they crossed paths. She eventually–––when Ares was back in the fight–––lifted that rule, allowing Diomedes to attack any god. Hera prior to this change in rule, went to Zeus, complaining to do something since Ares was ‘participating’, and it would be unfair if she couldn’t.

I know damn well that the only two reasons why Zeus agreed was for two reasons: the biggest is that he had to crush the Argives, so until that time came, he had to appear fair, and the second is that he didn’t want to deal with Hera arguing with him. 

In Book Five, there was something peculiar about the way it was written. Now, this might be simply explained by my translation, I’m not sure. Any time an Argive dies, he is provided insight about his life–––such as his lineage, parent’s lives, the dreams, and people he wanted to see after the war–––and was quickly avenged. When a Trojan died, he would be given significantly less. On one page, a Trojan died and got a single paragraph, while two Achaeans died, and received a long block of text, that could be broken into four paragraphs.

I have one large reason to explain the unfairness displayed. Homer himself didn’t want to tell a story that shed the majority of the gods’ favorites, and the gods themselves, in a nasty light. Which can be a front for the actual truth: Homer felt for the Argives, knowing how they were fighting for a multitude of reasons, even losing sight of the main one. Helen was a shoe in reason, and often told as the second reason or the cover reason as to why an Argive was fighting. 

From the Trojan perspective, they were fighting to survive the brutal Argives, to protect their remaining city, Troy itself. Hector had brothers, blood brothers, on the battlefield with him, and was trying to ensure his and their royal dignity maintained, even Paris. Hector was doing the most in every military and human department. And he was killed by Achilles. His body was famously mutilated for all the surviving Trojans to see. 

For the reason to explain the verses favoring of the Achaeans, Homer was doing it out of pity. He said that this is the fury and unfortunate might of the Argives. No matter how noble you are, they will crush you if they’re determined enough.

It is the rough, meticulous crafting that Homer spent on the details of his characters’ behaviors that draws me into the tale. And again, I’ve expressed interest of this particular area of The Iliad for my thesis. I need to pull it all together after I finish my reading. 

[foxglow-diner]

We’re kicking off my readathon with some Book One fun.

We get this little paragraph:

“Rage–––Goddess, sing the rage of Peleus’ son Achilles, murderous, doomed, that cost the Achaeans countless losses, hurling down to the House of Death so many sturdy souls, feasts for the dogs and birds, and the will of Zeus was moving towards its end. Begin, Muse, when the two first broke and clashed, Agamemnon lord of men and brilliant Achilles.”

It’s a fucking banger. And then we proceed to steadily get context for this paragraph. It’s revealed that Agamemnon screwed over the Greeks because he refused to give up a woman. Not just any woman, but the daughter of a priest of Apollo, Chryses. This man prayed to Apollo, who responded with nine days of a plague on the Argives. 

Agamemnon ignores this threat. Greeks die. He is confused. Why was Apollo mad? Who knows? On the tenth day, Achilles is upset that so many comrades are dying. He goes before Agamemnon, suggesting that before the Greeks leave the area, they get a seer, to figure out why misfortune befell them. 

You see, this is quite hilarious. We all know damn well that Agamemnon was responsible. Achilles (or anyone else for that matter) couldn’t tell Agamemnon outright, running the risk of his anger. A seer was naturally the best response. This is where the icing on the cake comes in. The seer, Calchas, comes forth in his mystic awe. He prefaces his prophecy with a request: Achilles needs to protect him on Apollo’s name (Calchas’ main deity) because the cause is unfavorable.

This low rate seer knew it was Agamemnon. And he felt the need to make such a request because it would piss of Agamemnon so much. No one wanted to put up with Agamemnon. The Greeks resorted to divine explanation from a con seer instead of telling Agamemnon that he is an ass to his face.

I love it. 

[foxglow-diner]

I have begun Book Two of The Iliad, and I’m only twenty lines in but I have words.

I’ll hand it to Zeus, he was diligent in carrying out in Achilles’ request. However, I think he should’ve considered the plan more thoroughly, as it results in our characters (mentioned and people who aren’t) either dying or experiencing immense trauma. And this concept, the reason why the War started, is rather interesting to me. 

I don’t one hundred percent blame Achilles for the Trojan War. The entirety of the Trojan Cycle–––but primarily The Iliad–––was founded in tragedy. All of the events were brought upon the people partaking in the events, only their intentions and actions don’t equal the sorrow that emerged. 

Hector was just trying to protect his family, when he killed Patroclus. He didn’t know that they would end up killed or enslaved.

 Achilles didn’t know that Patroclus would be killed when he requested that Zeus punish the Achaeans. He just wanted Agamemnon to acknowledge his efforts. 

Paris didn’t know (or most likely care, dare I say even consider) that he’d make an enemy of Menelaus and majority of the strongest Greeks. He just wanted a beautiful woman. Although, I don’t give him support in the Golden Apple Decision. 

Agamemnon didn’t know Achilles was going to resort to divine retaliation. He just wanted to embarrass him and assort superiority. (Like Paris, I don’t support these actions)

Zeus granted Achilles’ prayer to appease a successful warrior, his kind mother, and get Hera off his back. He didn’t know that he’d have to restrain not only his wife’s bloodlust, but that of Athena, Ares, and Apollo’s distraught anger over the entire grand climax of the war. 

Odysseus didn’t even want to fight in that war. He did as he was told. And as a reward, it took him a decade to get home, all of his remaining men were killed, and his palace overrun with suitors vying for his wife.

All of those above goings-on I described are things that aided in the start of the  war, with the exception of Odysseus. The Odyssey is a consequence of this war. But the examples I provided are all pieces of the greater whole, responsible for the Trojan War. They are all personal trains of thought that didn’t anticipate such stinging pain.

[foxglow-diner]

Book Nine of The Iliad

This is very loaded and I have quotes, but I also feel lazy–––as lazy as this book is loaded, I suppose.  So, don’t expect much, and I won’t put in much effort! <3 If this isn’t convincing enough to read, I’m primarily going to talk about Achilles. (NOT CLICKBAIT) /srs

Zeus has been pummeling the Trojans, right? And the Achaeans are little piss babies about it. So, what do they do? Take a wild guess. Actually fight? Strategize and regroup. No. They go and bother Achilles because they can’t do anything without him. 

Odysseus, Ajax, and Phoenix (along with two more consorts) present Achilles with personal reasons, goading, and an offer of some treasure, Briseis, and seven more women to get Achilles to forgive Agamemnon–––or at least enough to fight. If not fight for Agamemnon, but for himself, and if not himself, but the Achaeans.

Achilles gives a couple reasons for his, “no”. 

One, is that he doesn’t want Briseis anymore, regardless of Agamemnon’s oath that he didn’t bed her. Achilles claimed that he loved her, but not anymore, Agamemnon ruined it. Out of all the reasons Achilles gave, this is the weakest to me. The first thought that crossed my mind was, if he loved her so much, then why not pull a small scale Menelaus? Fight to get her back? If he didn’t like Agamemnon as much as he claimed, then it should’ve been a piece of cake. Only, he didn’t. this came across as rather childish. You know when a kid complains about having something, gets what it wants, but some other kid so much as breathes in the direction of said object, then the first kid says, “no! Humph. Well, I don’t want it anymore!”? That’s exactly what this read like.

The second reason is that Achilles has often been nerfed, given the short end of the stick, by Agamemnon. Many of times Achilles has been the Achaean breadwinner, fought the hardest and in the hardest conditions. All of that, just to be under-compensated, while what you reaped goes to the guy who essentially monitored everything like a peacock. Achilles is undervalued. That I believe. But when he doesn’t get his way, such as this situation, his behavior doesn’t help his case. 

What best supports Achilles, his third and final explanation, is the prophecy he was born with. Achilles could either stay and fight in Troy, receive glory, yet not be able to return home, or leave Troy, surrender his glory, but live a long life. Achilles was ready to leave the next day and take Phoenix (an old man, and second father figure to Achilles) with him. Phoenix gave a long speech, but was conflicted as to whether or not he would leave as well. Achilles understood that  everyone was fighting on Menelaus’ behalf because he loved Helen. Achilles thought that all well and good. But he wasn’t going to tolerate unfair treatment, ill compensation, and–––as far as he knew–––die over this. Achilles said that Agamemnon was doing fine without him, Hector was going to be the problem, but “no worth is worth my life”. 

While it is selfish, I think this is honestly rather noble. Achilles is selfish in explaining his departure, and his arguing with Agamemnon in Book One wasn’t one of his finest moments. Right here, he does a swell job sounding like a living person with complex thoughts and emotions. Losing the luster for battle–––especially as a hero as renowned as he––––is an incredible arc to have. I love that for Achilles. 

I’ve mentioned a few times how I want to focus on the minutia of humane aspects, invigorating realism, and ties to gods and godly status amongst all of the characters in The Iliad. One of which is the Achaeans and the gods vs. the Trojans and the gods. In this moment, Achilles and Hector are very similar. When Hector doesn’t have the choice to leave and be with his family, Achilles did. He was going to act upon it too. Hector has moments of hubris, he wants glory not-so deep down. These little moments are where their personalities coincide. 

Book Nine isn’t a favorite, but this chunk of it is really interesting. 

[foxglow-diner]

Guess what everyone?!?!?!

One of your newly resident Iliad idiots is doing a read through for senior thesis!

So, I am going to make posts and comment and everything in-between! Y’all will get to join in on my journey as I pin point just what my thesis will pertain as well!

I’m aiming to read one book every two days, and finish with a week just before school starts! Amongst this, I have work, a semi-vacation with my dad, and regularly scheduled writing. Either way, I still need to get this done. Posting (I think) will be a fun motivator and way to spark my creativity. 

And so, without further ado, I need to get reading.

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 10/50)

For a musician with bad lungs, Vien could talk a lot. Truthfully, by the time they reached the path leading up the hills, Sage was starting to doubt Vien had respiratory problems at all. He was either arguing with Iliad about some unimportant topic, strumming the strings of his lute while humming, or running forward like a dart to look at something potentially dangerous.

Sage wasn’t worried, though, because each and every time Vien bounded away from the path, Nirim trailed dutifully behind him, suspicion in his eyes as he glowered down at whatever plant or tiny animal Vien wanted to look at. He was certainly taking his new role as Halo’s ronin very seriously. It made Sage smile.

“I still don’t like him,” Iliad argued, watching Nirim walk ahead of the group after dispatching a low-level foe that Vien was harassing with a stick.

Emery didn’t look very effected by the younger teen’s attitude as he cleaned a few smudges away from his glasses with his white coat, humming, “Well, he’s doing his job, isn’t he? The few foes we’ve come across he could easily get rid of.”

“Dyria could have done that just as easily!” Iliad insisted, pointing at his brother before looking over at him and deflating in shock, as Dyria appeared to be completely distracted watching Sage collect leaf samples.

Emery chuckled and slipped his glasses back onto his face, “Of course he could have, but he’s a bit busy at the moment.”

“What the fuck,” Iliad grumbled, shoulders tensing, “What’s the matter with him?”

“You mean in general, or is that a rhetorical question?” Emery asked, and Iliad threw his hands out.

“He’s not even paying attention! What if a monster charges us?! He’s supposed to be focusing so he can protect, or whatever it is he does!”

“He’s doing his job, don’t worry about that,” Emery laughed and waved a hand, “He’s protecting Sage right now.”

“What about the rest of us? His guild?!”

“I think we’re capable enough to stay a few low-level attacks,” Emery stated, “It makes sense he’s focusing the majority of his attention on Sage. I mean, this is his first time back in the Labyrinth after getting attacked, losing literally everything, including his memories,” he held a finger up, “Dyria is just exercising good leadership by staying close to the unsteady explorer in our group,” he looked off to the side and murmured under his breath, “Plus he’s whipped.”

“This is ridiculous!” Iliad grabbed his head, “Everyone’s going insane! This is exactly why I knew letting other people join was a bad idea!”

“I don’t see how,” Emery shrugged, “I think it was a good call actually. Sage needs us, and he’s really useful, like you said before,” Iliad pouted and tugged at the new gloves he was wearing that protected his fingers, “Plus, Nirim isn’t so bad. I mean look,” Emery pointed, “He’s keeping an eye on Vien so we don’t have to. That troubadour is caffeine on steroids, he can make anyone tired just by watching him, but Nirim is doing fine,” he frowned a little when Nirim grabbed the back of Vien’s shirt and dragged him back onto the pathway, looking completely frustrated, “Well, somewhat.”

“No, I don’t like it,” Iliad argued, “We swore, remember? When we left the orphanage, we promised, the four of us, we’d come to Lagaard together and start our own guild, us against the world, we never said anything about other people!”

“Iliad that pact was to swear we would stick together,” Emery corrected, “There was nothing in the fine print that said we were going to willingly and consciously block the rest of the world out. Especially if someone needed our help.”

Iliad’s frown became heavier and he folded his arms, looking down the path to where Vien was holding out a weird looking rock for Nirim, who had a hand on his face, either from embarrassment or exasperation; likely both. If Iliad knew Vien at all, it was both.

“The only reason I’m dealing with Sage is because he’s training me, and because… Dyria seems happy to have him in the guild. I’ll think about dealing with that one,” he pointed over at Nirim, “but I’m not guaranteeing anything. Don’t expect me to be nice or to talk with them.”

“I won’t,” Emery laughed, “I can’t push you too far out of your comfort zone without feeling like a jerk,” he reached up and ruffled Iliad’s hair, much to his annoyance, “Just go at your own speed, you’ll get used to our new guildmates eventually.”

“Hurry up!” Vien yelled back to them, “We’re at the hills!”

Iliad swatted Emery’s hand away, a heavy pout on his face as he attempted to fix his already messy hair and hurried forward to join the group with the medic close at his heels. When they got to the base of the hills, Vien pointed at a jagged boulder sitting just in front of them.

“Iliad, I bet ya I can climb that in ten seconds!”

“What are you, five?” Iliad scoffed, and Vien pulled his lute over his head, shoving it against Nirim’s chest before running forward.

Emery sighed and set a hand on his hip as Vien scrambled up the boulder, slumping over the top before getting to his knees and standing up, holding his arms up, “Ha! Ten seconds!”

“Would you get down?!” Iliad bristled, “You’re gonna hurt yourself!”

“You’re just jealous of my climbing skills!” Vien yelled back down, a few pebbles skidding down the side of the boulder before the area he was standing on crumbled and he slipped, “Whoa!”

“Fucking moron!”

Nirim just shuffled to the side and held his arms out, catching the troubadour easily before he could hit the ground. Vien peeked one eye open before popping them both open, looking at Nirim before patting his chest.

“Thank you, Nirim,” he stuck his tongue out at Iliad, “See? At least Nirim was nice enough to catch me!”

Nirim mumbled something incoherent, more to himself than to the people around him, but of course Sage picked up the words, head tilting in curiosity as he stared at the ronin while he carefully set Vien onto his feet, handing his lute back before turning to walk up the path.

Sage shuffled after, looking at Dyria, “Hey, where did Vien live before this?”

“Hm? The orphanage,” was Dyria’s response, and Sage shook his head.

“I meant before that. He must have come from somewhere, right? You and Iliad were from the same area as Emery, he grew up in town and you grew up on a farm four miles away. I… must have come from somewhere, probably, but what about Vien?”

Dyria was looking down at his feet while they walked, rubbing his jaw, “I wouldn’t know. Whatever happened to him in the past, likely the same thing that scarred him, was so bad he’s never actually talked about it before. I mean, if you ask him, he’ll pretend he doesn’t know, but there’s a look in his eyes... He remembers it, I think. Most of it, at least.”

“I have a theory, myself,” Emery said from behind Sage, hurrying forward to walk at his other side, “When we met Vien at the orphanage I noticed the burn scars, but when I asked about them he just brushed it aside like he couldn’t remember. So, I asked around, found out he’d been at the orphanage since he was nine when they found him wandering around. I snuck into the records room in the nearby village and found a file of categorized fires in the area.

“Most of them weren’t that bad, just a few forest fires, controlled fires that got a bit crazy, but there was one record in particular that was a lot bigger,” he looked forward to watch Vien run up the path, “There was a village seven days walk from the orphanage, it was raided, and set aflame. There were no survivors found, but… who knows. Maybe Vien was from there.”

Sage nibbled on his lip before speaking, “Who raided them?”

Emery shrugged, “The file conveniently left that out. I assume they were pirates or something, because the village was a small trading town just at the ocean’s edge. I don’t know any more than that.”

“Do you think maybe more than one person could have survived?” Sage asked, and Emery rubbed his neck.

“Dunno. Why do you ask?”

Sage looked down, his eyes shifting up towards Nirim, who was rubbing his shoulder and waiting for Vien to reach him. You haven’t changed…

“It was just a thought I had is all,” Sage shrugged.

Vien was halfway towards Nirim, his steps rather sluggish, and he stopped completely so he could lift an arm to his mouth, coughing hard. It was a dry cough, and he bowed forward from the force, prompting Emery to run up to him, putting a hand on his back.

“Easy, I told you not to run around like that.”

“I’m fine,” Vien said before coughing again, one hand holding the chest of his shirt as he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, panting, “Just gimme a second to catch my breath.”

“Here,” Emery sifted through his bag and came up with a long vile of gold medicine, “Drink this.”

Vien whined, “But it’s so gross.”

“You need it, Vien,” Emery said sternly, and Vien sighed breathlessly before taking the vile, struggling to pull the top off before downing it, his face twisting in disgust as he stuck his tongue out and made a disgusted noise.

“I hate this stuff,” he mumbled, giving the empty vile back to Emery, who had his lips pressed into a tight line as Vien coughed a few more times, “I can breathe fine.”

“Maybe we should go back,” Emery said, squeezing Vien’s shoulder and looking back at Dyria, “We still have a lot of walking, there and back, I don’t want him to strain his lungs so badly that he has to go to the hospital.”

“But I’m fine!” Vien cried in frustration, coughing against his arm, “We can’t go back yet, this is supposed to be a super easy and simple quest to reintroduce Sage to the Labyrinth, if we go back without finishing it then we suck as a guild!”

“Vien-,” Emery started to argue, but Nirim interrupted him.

“I’ll carry you,” he said, and everyone turned to stare at him as he stepped over to Vien and crouched down, looking over his shoulder, “Come on. We should go before it gets dark.”

Vien stared at Nirim, stunned for a moment, before smiling and flopping forward onto his back, arms wrapping around his neck as Nirim easily picked him up, then stuck his tongue out at Emery, “See? I’m fine! Onward!”

“But-,” Emery stopped himself as Nirim walked down the path, rubbing his head with a sigh, “Alright, as long as he’s not straining himself, I guess it’s fine.”

“Hm,” Sage smiled a little, looking at Dyria, “I think it’s good that Nirim joined us.”

Dyria tensed a little and frowned, mumbling a quick, “I guess,” before they continued on with their quest.

“I’m not too heavy, right?” Vien asked, and Nirim murmured.

“No.”

“You’re really strong anyway, so you could probably carry me even if I was three hundred pounds,” Nirim just shrugged and Vien set his chin on the ronin’s shoulder, frowning a little, “Thanks, by the way. For carrying me I mean. My lungs kinda hurt, so… I probably wouldn’t have made it much further on my own.”

“Why do you have such difficulty breathing?” Nirim asked, and Vien rolled his head to look off to the side.

“Smoke inhalation,” he said, “I was in a fire when I was little, and I breathed in so much smoke it screwed up my lungs. I almost died.”

Nirim didn’t respond for a moment, “Do you remember it?”

“Some of it,” Vien admitted, picking at a loose string on Nirim’s sleeve, “A lot of it is really unclear, but Emery and Dyria are nice so they don’t try and push me into remembering it,” he leaned up a bit, “Like, I remember the flames, what they looked like and how hot they were, and I remember all the smoke, I remember struggling to breathe and thinking I was going to suffocate. I remember how scared I was,” he held one hand up, frowning at it, “I don’t know if it’s just my memories being messed up, but I remember holding someone’s hand, and I remember the heat making my hands sweaty, so… one of us slipped away,” he wrapped his arm back around Nirim and set his chin down on his shoulder, “That part might be from a nightmare, though.”

Nirim was silent, so Vien started to talk about other things, like learning how to play the lute and how he loved singing, but Nirim’s mind was wandering. Fire, heat, smoke, bright flames that blocked out any other view; and a hand clutched in his, a hand that slipped away; spinning around, and screaming for them to come back, surrounded by fire…

“Yea,” Nirim whispered, a soft smile on his lips, “You haven’t changed at all.”

“Hm?”

“Nothing.”

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 8/50)

“Hn, where’s Sage?” Emery asked when he saw Dyria stepping through the hallway alone, two bags in his arms and a heavy frown on his lips. Emery would go as far as to call it an indignant pout.

“With Vien,” Dyria answered, pushing Emery’s bedroom door open with his foot, “He met up with us outside Sitoth Trading and dragged Sage to the bar to grab a request and see if anyone would recognize him.”

“Oh, I see,” Emery hummed with a teasing smile as he leaned against the door frame, folding his arms, “So Vien stole your date.”

Dyria tensed up in a highly amusing way before spinning around to argue with Emery, “Don’t be ridiculous, we were just taking a walk to Sitoth Tradin. Sage needed supplies, we were heading home, and Vien just showed up. It’s good for Sage to get out and walk around like he’s doing, and spend time with everyone else, he needs to bond with Halo so he can trust us.”

“See, that’s all great,” Emery said, lifting his hand to push his glasses higher onto his face, “Besides the fact you didn’t exactly deny the fact you were on a date.”

Red suddenly darkened Dyria’s cheeks, his shoulders squaring defensively but not bothering to really argue. He just turned with an irritated mumble and set the bags on Sage’s bed as Emery shook his head with a sigh and rolled his eyes.

“Well, I can’t blame you, Sage has that kind of rare, unexpected, ethereal beauty to him. I’m sure everyone he encounters will develop somewhat of a crush,” he smirked a little at the way Dyria bristled, but wiped the expression away when the protector turned to face him, instead frowning a little and tapping his chin, “Then again, you’ve always been so stifled and kind of uninterested in things like romance or relationships. You’re always so focused on raising Iliad and looking after Vien and myself. Don’t tell me the only thing you’re interested is how cute he is.”

“I’m not,” Dyria defended, shoulders tense, “It’s not like that.”

“Okay, sure,” Emery pushed off the door frame and leaned forward, hands folded behind his back as he winked, “Love at first sight then.”

“You’re not making this easier on yourself,” Dyria growled, and Emery snorted.

“What are you gonna to do, sulk?” he waved his hands in front of him, “Come on, Dyria, I’ve seen how you look at him; and by look, I mean you literally just stare at him for minutes on end. And somehow, he never realizes or catches you! It must be a side effect of the head injury,” he tapped his forehead, “Or he’s just too embarrassed to call you out on it.”

“Why is this even a conversation?” Dyria asked, striding forward, and slipping past Emery into the hallway, “You’re being ridiculous and immature.”

“I’m calling it like I see it,” Emery explained simply, following Dyria as he stormed down the hall, “You’re my friend, so it’s my duty to tell you when you’re avoiding some very obviously strong feelings.”

“No, I’m not,” Dyria stiffly denied, and Emery stopped walking, staring at Dyria with narrow eyes before sighing heavily and loudly in exaggeration, lifting a hand and raking his fingers back through his hair.

“Yea, I guess you’re right!” he said, his words echoing rather abruptly due to the fact they were in the entry, “I mean, you’re so blah, and Sage is so wow. You don’t fit together at all. He’s so adorable, though, he probably won’t be alone for too long,” he shrugged, smiling brightly, “Who knows, maybe he found someone better at the bar. Someone who thinks he’s just precious and adorable and beautiful. Someone who wants to do dirty, indecent things to him,” he dropped his hand from his head to cup his cheek, eyes wide, “Dear me, but I’m sure we can allow that, yes? After all, it’s not like you care.”

Dyria had essentially frozen to the spot in mid stride when Emery started to speak, and slowly turned to glare at him with an almost menacing expression. If Emery didn’t know Dyria personally, he would probably be terrified. He still kind of was. Dyria had done awful things after all, dropping to the lowest of lows just to defend the people he cared about. He would likely do it again if the need arose.

“There’s no way,” Dyria said, and a moment later the doors were thrown open.

“Great leader, we’ve brought a friend!”

Dyria and Emery both turned to look at the now open door, where Vien was standing in the threshold, Sage lingering behind looking embarrassed and uncomfortable, and a tall, unfamiliar man standing beside him, sporting thick dark purple hair tied into a ponytail and piercing red eyes. The shirt he was wearing was thin and strained against what muscle he had, and he was intimidating… and not awful looking…

“Huh,” Emery was holding his chin, appearing mildly surprised, “Well I didn’t think that would actually happen, to be honest.”

Dyria’s left eye gave a tic as Vien grabbed the ronin by the arm and dragged him through the door, silver eyes bright, “Ah, Dyria! Good! Look, I found a new member for Halo! His name’s Nirim, he’s a ronin!”

“A new member?” Emery questioned, and Vien nodded.

“Yup! Sage and I found the perfect request at the bar, but it required we have a ronin in our guild, and this guy was all alone, so we grabbed him!”

“Vien, you can’t just do that,” Emery sighed out, rubbing his temple, and Vien pouted, wrapping both of his arms around one of Nirim’s and leaning forward.

“But now we can take that request! It’s the perfect thing for Sage’s reintroduction of the Labyrinth! I’m not super sure why we specifically needed a ronin, but we’ll figure it out. Besides, they’re like hella strong, right? Look at this guy!” he patted Nirim’s broad chest, “Fuckin rock hard! So? What do you say? Dyria?”

Emery looked over at Dyria, who appeared a bit pale and sickly as he stared numbly at Nirim. The medic almost felt sorry for him and stepped awkwardly in front of him, holding a hand up, “Sorry, Dyria is currently unresponsive due to shock, but I’m sure we can discuss initiating Nirim into Halo,” he smiled at the ronin, “Where have you been staying?”

“Here,” Nirim answered, finally snapping out of whatever stunned trance he’d been in before, “I have a room on the top floor.”

“That’s perfect!” Vien decided, still clinging to Nirim’s arm in complete excitement, “One of us can move into your room!”

“Vien, you can’t just decide that,” Emery tried to scold, but the troubadour was far too excited to have heard.

“And we can leave tomorrow for the request! What do you think, Dyria?”

Dyria just pressed his lips into a thin line, and Emery laughed as he held an arm out, “How about we talk in the tea room? I think Dyria needs some fresh air.”

“Sure,” Vien yanked on Nirim’s arm and started to pull him towards the room off to the side, and Emery held his head, humming as he watched them go.

“I really was not expecting that,” he shrugged and turned, patting Dyria’s shoulder, “Oh well, shock treatment works best sometimes.”

With that said he followed Vien and Nirim, and Dyria watched after him with a grim expression. Sage stepped carefully towards him before reaching out to touch his arm, making him jump and whip around to face the survivalist, cheeks turning a dark red color.

“Are you okay?” Sage asked, “You look a bit… sick. Did something happen?”

Dyria’s eye twitched a little and he glared over at the tea room, “Emery can be a punk sometimes,” he said, and Sage smiled a little.

“I’m sure he didn’t mean it, whatever it was.”

“Oh, he did,” Dyria mumbled, shoulders slumping and a sigh heaving from his lungs as he dropped his head, “Honestly he should just leave me be.”

“Well, he is a medic,” Sage noted, “It’s not in his nature to just leave someone alone.”

“But I’m not sick!”

“Yea you are!” Emery called, and Dyria tensed up.

“I am physically healthy!”

“I didn’t say you were physically sick!”

Dyria just growled in irritation, and Sage bit his lip as his fingers curled into the protector’s sleeve, “You’re not… actually sick, right? Maybe you should lie down.”

“What?” Dyria turned to gape at him, “No, I’m not sick, I don’t have a cold or a fever or anything like that, really, I’m fine.”

“Are you sure?” Sage looked quite honestly worried, “I-I don’t want anything happening to you when we’re in the Labyrinth because you’re lightheaded or nauseous.”

Dyria seemed to struggle internally for a moment before shaking his head, his hand lifting to push Sage’s hair from his face, tucking it behind his ear so his eyes were in full view, “I promise you I’m not sick. Not… not in a conventional way at least, and not in a way that would ever put me in danger or in a vulnerable position.”

“Not exactly true!” Emery called, and Sage gaped over at the open tea room as Dyria turned and stormed over to slam the door shut before walking back over to Sage and taking his hand, leading him away from the entry of the inn.

“A-are you sure?” Sage asked, reaching out with his free hand to grasp at Dyria’s sleeve again, “You should lie down anyway, Emery said-.”

“Emery is just giving me a hard time,” Dyria mumbled, looking over his shoulder to glance back at Sage before turning back to the front and pushing the door to the bedroom Sage shared with Emery and Vien open, “Come on, I left all of your new supplies on your bed.”

Sage cringed, “Ah, I forgot about that,” he admitted, his hand lifting to mess with the fur lining the collar of his vest, “I still think it wasn’t necessary…”

“Well, how about this,” Dyria turned to Sage and squeezed his hand, “If I promise to lie down for your peace of mind, will you stop feeling so bad about me buying you supplies?”

Sage considered it before his lips twisted into an adorable pout, trying to glare at Dyria, though it wasn’t working, and pointed over at the bed, “There,” he said, “I want to see you resting myself, so lie down here.”

Dyria was mildly stunned, lifting his hand and attempting to hide the blush against the back of it before he easily gave in, “Fine…”

Sage seemed pleased as he pulled Dyria over to the bed and set the bags of supplies on the ground before pushing the protector onto the mattress, then sat down and reached out to brush Dyria’s black hair away from his eyes, setting his hand against his forehead to test his temperature. Dyria just frowned heavily and tried to sink into the bed entirely as his face heated up a little more and Sage hummed.

“Are you certain you’re not sick? Your head is hot.”

“Not from fever,” Dyria mumbled, eyes shifting to the side so he wasn’t meeting Sage’s intense gaze, “I’m resting now, see? I’ll try to sleep if you really want me to, so you should go through your things and prepare for tomorrow.”

“Mhm, I can agree to that,” Sage decided, turning away, but Dyria suddenly sat up and grabbed him by his shoulders, staring intently into his eyes.

“I need you to promise me something,” he said, and Sage tensed up, his eyes growing wide as he nodded.

“O-okay.”

“Don’t ever bring strange men home with you.”

“Eh?”

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 11/50)

“You’re never allowed to choose the requests ever again,” Iliad was grumbling, feet scuffing the ground and shoulders sagging as Halo wandered into the inn, “My feet ache, everything aches, and all we got from it was some fucking rocks!”

Sage looked utterly offended as he hugged the bag of samples to his chest, “It’s sedimentary shale and limestone! Obviously the one who requested this is a scientist studying the different soils and stones that are in the Labyrinth. You can learn a lot from dirt!”

“You are the weirdest fucking person I have ever met,” Iliad decided, and Vien hummed as he hung his arms over Nirim’s shoulders, pouting a little.

“I don’t understand why you’re complaining so much. We had fun, right? You need to stop being so negative.”

“I’m pretty sure I have blisters everywhere,” Iliad stated, glaring at Vien, “Negativity is my middle name at this point.”

“I feel fine,” Vien argued, and Iliad threw his arms up.

“You’ve been riding a horse since noon!”

The musician gasped dramatically and covered Nirim’s ears, “That is so offensive, you’re going to hurt his feelings!”

Nirim just looked confused as his eyes moved over to Sage, who shrugged in amusement as Emery rubbed his forehead, “Alright, it’s really late, we even missed dinner, so I want everyone to just go to their rooms, shower, and get in bed. And be quiet, there are others staying here, you’re going to wake someone up,” he peered over at Vien, “I’m talking to you, Mister I’m going to play my lute at three in the morning.”

Vien shrugged, “When the muse strikes me, I must answer the call.”

“Not when your bunk-mate is trying to fucking sleep,” Iliad growled, likely speaking from experience.

“Ah, yea, and I’m really tired,” Sage murmured, staring down before brightening, smiling at Vien, “I know, why don’t you stay with Nirim tonight? I’m sure he wouldn’t mind, right?” he looked at Nirim, who appeared stunned, but Vien didn’t seem to mind the decision as he sighed and wrapped his arms tighter around the ronin.

“You’re all jerks who hate my music. You’ll see. When we’re in the heat of battle and you need your strength rejuvenated with song, you’ll be happy to have me!”

“We’re already happy to have you,” Emery assured, “We’re just not happy you wake up at god awful hours to practice.”

“Huh, and the ronin’s room is on the second floor,” Iliad stated, holding his chin and staring at Nirim, “That means when Vien wakes up to play his lute, he won’t wake the rest of us up. I guess the stupid newbie is pretty useful after all.”

“What?” Nirim managed to mumble, squinting, and Vien sighed as he set his chin on the ronin’s shoulder.

“I’ll have to get my stuff,” he decided, hopping off Nirim’s back and following Emery and Iliad, who happily made their way down the hall with the troubadour following, leaving Dyria, Sage, and Nirim to wait in the entry of the inn.

“Wait… what?” Nirim muttered it again, a little louder, and Sage smiled at him.

“You’ll take care of him, right?” he asked, “He’s been staying with Emery till now because of his lungs, I assume, so Emery will probably worry, but I trust you,” he turned to glance over at where Dyria was, yawning and rubbing at his messy hair, picking out twigs stuck in the black locks, before turning his attention back to Nirim, “I was wondering before, but… where did you grow up?”

Nirim stared blankly at Sage for a moment before his lips seemed to press tighter together, almost like he was attempting not to speak, but ended up talking anyway, “Near the coast,” he said, turning his head to look away, “I left a while ago.”

“Did you always want to be a ronin?” Sage asked, and Nirim shrugged a little.

“My mother was a ronin. It was passed to me I suppose. She said I had the conviction to be a ronin, so I decided to train and become stronger,” he paused, “I wanted to be strong is all.”

Sage smiled softly and hummed, “Did you leave anyone behind when you came here?”

Nirim stared down, “No. Everyone I cared about was already gone from my village when I decided to travel,” the smile on Sage’s lips faded into something sad as Nirim rubbed his arm, “I’m happy though. That I came to Lagaard. I found something I didn’t think I would. Something I thought was dead.”

“What’s that?” Sage asked, and Nirim looked up.

“My reason to be strong.”

Sage looked over to the hallway when Vien stepped back out with Emery, who was carrying a handful of long yellow vials, talking as he went, “I want you to take one before sleeping, alright? You only had a mild attack today, but at least drink half, for my peace of mind.”

“I’m fine, Em, I don’t need it,” Vein argued, holding a single bag over his shoulder as he rolled his eyes, “Seriously, they don’t hurt anymore,” he patted his chest, but Emery narrowed his eyes before turning and holding the medicine for Nirim to take.

“You’re in charge of these,” he said, and Nirim quickly stuck his hands out to take the vials, “He drinks half before bed and half when he wakes up, but it’s not a daily medicine. Half a bottle should be enough, but if he has an attack tonight he needs to drink a full one, and if it gets to the point where he can’t breathe at all, come get me.”

Nirim curled his fingers around the vials and nodded firmly as Vien turned to the stairs and pointed up them, “Lead the way! I might just go into any room I please if you don’t.”

“He would,” Emery warned, and Nirim slipped the medicine into the pouch on his belt before following Vien up the stairs.

“You sure about this?” Dyria asked, and Emery hummed.

“He’ll be okay. Nirim seems like a nice enough guy, I don’t think he’d hurt Vien or anything like that.”

“No, he wouldn’t,” Sage agreed, smiling after the two explorers, “It’s good Nirim is with us now. I’m glad Vien decided to ask him to join.”

Dyria had tensed up beside him and was watching him from the corner of his eyes, his frown etching deep into his lips as Emery hummed before smirking, wiping the expression away and sighing, “Well, since we’re switching rooms all of a sudden, I think I’m going to keep an eye on Iliad tonight,” he waved a hand when Dyria looked up, “He was limping a bit, so I’m going to tie him down before checking his ankle.”

“Do you need my help?” Dyria asked, looking fully concerned about his little brother hiding an injury, even a mundane one, “He gets freaked out sometimes-.”

“I think I can handle your angsty teen brother, thanks,” Emery assured, “Just stay with Sage for tonight, make sure he doesn’t have any nightmares and such. I’m still a bit wary about him being alone with his head still on the mend, but I think I trust you to treat him gently.”

Dyria’s face flared red as Sage pouted a bit, obviously not getting the same joke Dyria did, “I’m fine, Emery, my head doesn’t hurt anymore. The scar just itches sometimes,” he reached up to scratch at his forehead, “I don’t need a babysitter.”

“Well,” Emery set his hands on his hips, shrugging his shoulders, “I still want to stay with Iliad just to keep an eye on him, so you and Dyria will have to deal with having a sleep over,” he lifted a hand, “Just for the night, then we can switch back, I promise.”

Dyria narrowed his eyes at Emery suspiciously, “What are you planning?”

“I’m planning to mend your brother’s sprained ankle,” Emery said innocently, and Dyria just glared a bit harder.

“I don’t recall seeing him limp at all today.”

“Well of course,” Emery scoffed, pushing his glasses higher onto his face, “Only the trained eye of a medic would be able to notice the subtle limps and wincing of a survivalist who doesn’t like to worry anyone.”

“I don’t think I believe you.”

“Why are you arguing?” Sage asked, head tilting, “Do you not want to sleep with me or something?”

Dyria went rigid as Emery lifted a hand to his mouth and let out a quiet whistle that started on a high tone and lowered before he stopped. It was a bit unnecessary, but the message was clear. Crash and burn.

“No,” Dyria assured, “I want to. Really. I will. If you’re fine with it.”

Sage smiled brightly, “Of course I’m fine with it. You just can’t have my bed.”

He walked past Dyria, who swallowed hard, “That’s fine.”

“Darn” Emery whispered, “Better luck next time.”

“I will hurt you.”

“Are you coming?” Sage asked, and Dyria turned on his heel to follow behind him, Emery trailing at his heel looking far too smug.

“I’ll bring you your clothes,” he said, “Take off that bulky armor and lie down, you’re probably exhausted.”

“Yea…,” Dyria agreed, watching Emery slip into his room with Iliad before coming back with a few pairs of clothes, which he dropped into Dyria’s arms before pushing him towards the room next to the first.

“Good night, fearless leader,” Emery said cheerfully, shutting the door behind Dyria, who turned to glare at it before moving over to Vien’s old bed and dropping his clothes onto it, then began the mildly annoying task of removing his heavy armor.

The door to the small bathroom was open, and Dyria could see Sage had already removed his gear and was dressed in a simple white shirt and casual pants, splashing water onto his face to clean it before tugging the leather strap from his loosely braided hair so he could brush it out with his fingers.

“You did well today,” Dyria said, wincing a little at how stupid that sounded as he undid the buckles holding his arm guards in place, “I mean, considering it was your first time back. You were worried.”

Sage blushed a little and ducked his head, playing with a lock of his hair as he turned away from the mirror and shuffled out into the bedroom, “Yea, I was,” he agreed sheepishly, “It was just the first floor, but I was… a bit scared,” he offered Dyria a smile, “I’m happy though, because I didn’t freak out, and I was able to concentrate and enjoy myself,” he smiled a bit more and walked over to Dyria, reaching out to help him with the frustrating buckles, “You have a very strong guild, Dyria. You should be proud.”

Dyria waited for Sage to pull away the heavy metal gauntlet before lifting his bare hand so he could card his fingers back through his hair, smiling a soft smile as Sage leaned into his touch, holding the armor against his chest.

“I am. I don’t think I could’ve asked for a better group, and it’s because of you.”

A small frown pulled down Sage’s lips as he set the gauntlet on a chair with the rest of the armor Dyria had peeled off, then stood straighter and reached out to help the protector out of the rest of it, “I don’t see how I helped any,” he admitted, “The most I’m doing is training Iliad.”

“Not just that,” Dyria argued, “None of us would have been too terribly excited about Nirim joining if you hadn’t of been here first. I’m still a bit… worried about it, but he’s looking after Vien, which I’m grateful for. We never had much; being in an orphanage, even for a short time, opened our eyes to a lot of things, but it also made us rather cold and closed off towards people not in our immediate group.

“When we came to Lagaard, all we wanted was to find something permanent, something secure and lasting that couldn’t be taken away. Creating a guild, exploring the Labyrinth, was the most permanent thing we could think of. We knew it would be dangerous, but we also knew we’d be able to do it together, and all we wanted was to stay together. Vien, Emery, Iliad, and I, we’ve all lost a lot, we’ve been through a lot.

“Iliad and I lost our parents, Emery was exiled from his own home, and Vien… I don’t know the details, but I know he must have lost people too. At the orphanage when we would ask about his parents, he would just get this sad smile and shrug. We came here because we didn’t want to be separated, because we wanted something permanent… something we would never lose.

“Now… we’re not just on our own,” he smiled, his thumb brushing over Sage’s jaw as the survivalist pulled the last piece of armor from around his other arm, “We figured we would be, I don’t think any of us even considered we would build this guild up from just four people, but… we have, and… I think if we find other explorers, lost like us, then I would want them to join us. That way they won’t have to be alone… and it’s because of you.”

Sage set the gauntlet down and lifted a hand to brush his fingers over the back of Dyria’s wrist, smiling up at him shyly, “What did I do, then? What makes me so special?”

Dyria just shook his head, “I don’t know. You just are,” he pulled his hand away from Sage reluctantly and took his gauntlet from him, “We should sleep now, it’s late.”

“Oh, yea,” Sage turned away, rubbing his neck and stepping over to his bed, “Um, are you okay in here?” he looked over his shoulder at Dyria, his cheeks burning badly when he caught sight of the protector tugging his dirty shirt off, dropping it with his armor and picking up a clean one.

“Yea, it’s fine,” he assured, “It’s not the first time we’ve switched around rooms, I can deal with a new bed and a new room,” he rolled his head to the side and smiled at Sage, “At least the company is good,” he frowned a little, “Are you okay?”

Sage jumped and spun away, blushing harder, “Y-yes! I’m just tired,” he yanked the sheets back and slipped onto the mattress before pulling the thick sheets and covers up over his head, “G-good night!”

Dyria stared at the clumpy mound, mildly stunned, before shrugging and pulling the shirt over his head and falling onto his bed. He couldn’t help but think back on the day, trying to remember when Iliad would have sprained his ankle or even twisted it or strained it in anyway, but he legitimately could not recall.

In the room just next door, Iliad was squinting at Emery, who was lying on Dyria’s bed with his arms behind his head, eyes closed, and a smug smile on his lips.

“So… should I ask what you’re doing here?”

“I’m making sure your ankle is okay after you sprained it,” Emery said innocently, and Iliad frowned.

“I didn’t sprain my ankle…”

“Well,” Emery shrugged, opening one eye to peer at Iliad, “Keep that between us for now.”

[no-white-knights-blog]

Halo - An Etrian Odyssey Novel (Chapter 13/50)

Notes: I low-key fail at keeping schedules, I’ve been pretty busy in my real life so I haven’t been near Tumblr in a while, currently there’s a massive forest fire that’s threatening to send my entire town evacuating if it gets any worse, so that’s terrifying, but while I have the time, I’ll post a few chapters of Halo.

~~~~~~~

“Amnesia,” Nirim repeated, watching Vien from the corner of his eyes before focusing his attention back across the table to where Sage was sitting, shoulders hunched a little and a sheepish expression on his face as he poked at the scrambled eggs on his plate.

“That’s right,” Emery clarified, leaning back with a mug of tea in his hands, “He can’t remember much of anything besides being a survivalist.”

“And my older brother,” Sage added, looking down, “Kind of. I don’t remember his name though, and whenever I try to think about him all I see is this blur,” he lifted a hand and rubbed his forehead, “I don’t know if my memory is just messing with me, but I think I remember there being five other people in my old guild, and a beast companion. That’s all, though.”

“It’s good you’re remembering some things,” Dyria offered, “and it’s good those things aren’t scaring you.”

“I guess,” Sage smiled softly, turning his head to look at the protector beside him, “I’m just happy I don’t have to be alone in this.”

Dyria smiled back, and Emery smirked against his mug as the two just stared at each other. Vien had been leaning one elbow against the table, chin sitting in his hand as he fed himself breakfast, but his eyes were now locked on Dyria and Sage, squinted a little like he was confused about something, until he dropped his fork and smacked his hand against the table, jerking to his feet.

“Ahhh!”

Emery leaned off to the side as Dyria and Sage jumped further away from each other and they all looked at Vien in utter confusion.

“What’s wrong with you?!” Iliad demanded, “It’s too early for this!”

“I need to talk to Binah!” Vien said, spinning around and tripping over the bench he’d been sitting on, hitting the floor before scrambling to his feet and straightening his shirt, “I’m fine, that was fine. Binah!” he ran from the room with his guild staring after him, and Nirim slowly turned to Emery.

“Does he do that a lot?”

“More often than you’d think,” Emery admitted, “Though I can’t imagine what happened this time.”

“Who’s Binah?” Nirim asked, and Emery smiled.

“His mini me. She’s a pink haired troubadour who stays here at the inn. When they first met they kind of just clicked, and they hang out a lot. Gossiping and making trouble for explorers. I figure Vien knows more about Lagaard than the rest of us do simply because he spends so much time with that girl.”

Nirim was outright staring at Emery as he talked, before slowly looking away with a hum, “What’s she like?” he asked, and Emery pulled his mug away from his lips to mix around the tea leaves.

“She’s sweet, but I’ve only ever seen her a few times when I went looking for Vien. Haven’t talked to her myself, but I think she’s part of the Guardian’s Guild? Or at least she’s affiliated with them somehow, maybe related to one of them,” he shrugged.

“I heard a bit about that guild while I was at the bar,” Nirim said, looking around the room before his eyes stopped and he nodded, “You can tell which group they are because of their beast companion.”

Sage leaned back in his seat to look, gasping a little, “Oh, it’s the white tiger who was comforting me the other day!” he said, beaming, “Ah, I’m glad he lives here! I can say thank you to him later.”

Dyria bit his fork, his eye twitching as he looked over to the table across the room where the massive beast was lying at the feet of a brown-haired gunner, “That thing…”

“What’s wrong with it?” Iliad asked, and Sage laughed a little.

“He doesn’t like Dyria.”

“I always thought you were good with animals,” Emery said, and Dyria just glared off to the side.

“You’d think.”

“Don’t be rude,” Sage scolded, turning back to his breakfast, and smiling, “The Guardians are really amazing though. It looks like they have a lot of members.”

“Including that annoying fucking gunner,” Iliad grumbled, “Gunners are so pointless, especially when you already have a survivor in the guild. What’s the purpose of having two long range fighters?”

“Excuse me?” Sage arched an eyebrow, and Iliad waved a hand.

“You’re fine, you’re training me.”

“Every explorer in a guild is essential, even if there are doubles of a certain class,” Nirim argued, and Iliad dropped his fork onto his plate before pushing it away, glaring directly at the ronin.

“Gunners are psychopaths. I might be fine with you and Sage joining, but if there ever comes a time where a gunner wants to join us, I’m crossing the line,” he threw his napkin onto the table and stood up before storming away from the table and out of the dining hall.

Sage gaped after him before his eyes fell to Emery, who had a solemn expression on his face as he stared down at his tea, then turned to Dyria, who looked even worse, “H-he didn’t mean that, right?”

“It’s not his fault,” Dyria argued softly, “One of the bandits who raided our home and killed our mother was a gunner. He’s just a little bias is all,” he lifted a hand to rub his eyes, “That whole thing affected him back then, it basically defines him, and I wish I could help somehow, but… I can’t just fix his trauma because I’m his brother. It’s something he has to grow up and deal with on his own. All I can do, all anyone can do, is just be here for him.”

“Well… at least he’s doing better around me, right?” Sage offered, “And he seems at least a little open to Nirim joining us. Even if he is a little bit biased against gunners, I’m sure there’s no way that could get him into any trouble. I mean, we can keep an eye on him, what are the odds a gunner would want to join us anyway? We’re kind of a small and unimportant guild. I’m sure the Guardians get more requests to join than we ever will!”

Dyria dropped his hand from his face and nodded, “Yea,” he smiled at Sage, “Thanks.”

The four of them stood up and started for the door when they were finished with breakfast, but Sage stopped when he felt something soft nudge his hand and looked down, smiling at the large beast companion and crouching down so he could be eye level with the intelligent eyes of the tiger, scratching behind his ear.

“Hello again,” he greeted, and Dyria grumbled.

“Come on, Sage, we should go and plan our next trip into the Labyrinth.”

“You’re just jealous he likes me and not you,” Sage said, sticking his tongue out at the protector before smiling at the tiger, humming when he noticed he had something clamped in his mouth, “What’s this? Did you bring me something?”

The tiger parted his mouth and dropped a few long-stemmed red flowers into his hands, his tail flicking as he looked up at Dyria, who went rigid as Sage awed and held the flowers up, “He brought me flowers!”

Emery nudged Dyria with his elbow, “Bro, you’re losing to a cat.”

“They’re so cute,” Sage laughed, taking one of the flowers and breaking the stem off so he could tuck the flower behind his ear, then hugged the beast companion around the neck, “Thanks so much. Next time I’ll bring you something.”

When he stood up he frowned, looking around in confusion, “Where’d Dyria go?”

Emery shrugged with his hands, looking fully amused, “He was muttering something about stupid cats and flower carts, so I don’t know.”

Sage turned to watched the beast companion trot back over to the table where he’d come from, then smiled at Emery, “Hm, well, we have things to do anyway, don’t we? We can just wait for them to come back,” he held out one of the red flowers, “Want one?”

Emery just covered his face and laughed, shaking his head and turning, “You really have no idea what you do to that man, do you?”

“Hm?” Sage pouted a little, following the medic out of the dining hall and out into the entry of the inn, “What do you mean?”

“It’s nothing,” Emery hummed, “You’ll figure it out.”

“I wouldn’t have to if you told me yourself,” Sage pointed, and Emery shrugged, his smile falling when the front doors opened.

A rough looking explorer was standing in the threshold, a rather glazed and drunk look in his blue eyes as they panned around the entry expectantly. His hair was brown, but he wasn’t wearing any armor that could easily define which explorer class he was.

When his eyes fell on Sage they widened and he stalked forward, grabbing the protector by his shoulders and squeezing enough to make him squeak a little as he pushed himself right into Sage’s face, “I found you! Finally!”

“H-huh?”

~

Loud noises like slamming doors always made Iliad jump, because they reminded him of the gunshot that made his mother fall back, coughing blood as his father ran forward to help her while she struggled to speak, eyes on Iliad as she yelled at him to run and hide. He didn’t, not for a long time, he just stood there and watched as the bandit with the gun stepped further into the room and hit his father, knocking him away for his companions to deal with as he aimed down at the female protector and pulled the trigger three more times.

Iliad only ran when the gunner’s dark eyes raised to him, heading for the barn so he could hide in the giant pile of hay to wait for Dyria. It was the sound of a gun that made him fall forward and cover his head, even though he didn’t get shot, he was too scared to move, and the group of bandits bared down on him with leering faces and flying fists.

Damn it, he hated it, all the nightmares he pretended never happened, feeling like he had to act tough and unafraid when someone started yelling pointlessly or slamming glasses and doors, the loud boisterous laughter that made his head ache from the memories, bad enough that he had to tangle his fingers through his hair and yank on the black locks, eyes pinched closed as he willed everything back to the lowest depths of his memories so he could focus on something else.

He had to get out of the inn after that conversation, so he just left for a walk, scuffing his shoes against the cobbled ground as he made his way down the streets towards the center of town where he knew a pretty fountain was set up. It was normally vacant and quiet, as most of the citizens were either at the bar or park, so Iliad felt relaxed enough to go alone, dipping his hand into the cool water that was being spewed from the mouth of a koi fish.

A few minutes here and he would be calm enough to return to the inn, completely pretending as if the conversation about gunners hadn’t even taken place, hiding all of that and just going back to the way he normally was. It wasn’t his fault, really. Gunners were just psychopaths. Why… why would anyone do that to someone…

Iliad turned away from the fountain when his heart rate was back to normal, stepping away to head back to the inn, but a sudden call had him pausing and rolling his head to the side in curiosity, going rigid when his gaze fell on the explorer stalking towards him. He was decently tall with dirty blond hair and dark red eyes, and he was dressed in the common gunner gear, which is precisely why Iliad scowled before turning away to walk off.

“Hey, hold up!” the gunner called before starting to run, grabbing Iliad by his arm when he was close enough and pulling him to a stop, “You’re a survivalist!”

Iliad cringed and snarled up at him, “So?”

“You should fight me!”