The Pinnacle Warrior

“I am a liability.”

“Not winning any awards for mincing your words, are you?” Skandr replied to Felix. 

“What benefit would that provide?“ Felix shrugged, then winced. He’d dismissed his armor as soon as they were within the passage between floors and his frame, always so valiant and unbothered, looked small and broken. His legs were slowly recovering, the deep, ragged wounds from where the serpent had wrenched him back and forth had scabbed over by now. He could twitch his toes, but any movement of his legs was obviously painful. The worst part was his left arm, and only once he’d taken off his armor could Astrid see exactly how bad it was. When he had been forced to present his arm to protect his head, the feathered serpent’s jaws had cut through the majority of the bone in his upper arm. More accurately than that, though, that bone had been pulverized and the muscles flayed. While he held himself as carefully as he could manage, Felix’s left arm did not move at all, even as the wounds that covered it closed under Benedict ministrations.

“You are wounded,” Muti spat, the word “wounded“ heavy in her mouth, “but you are not dead. You are recovering. You will not be a liability after you have the opportunity to sleep.”

“‘Recovering’ doesn’t give any timeline for ‘recovered’,” Felix disagreed. “I refuse to be a backpack that leeches experience and forces others to confront danger for me.”

“I don’t know if I can approve anybody leaving,” Astrid shrugged, “unless we’ve exhausted every other possibility. If anybody leaves the party right now, even if you wait outside and we run back into you out there, we will be at least a watershed ahead of you.”

“I know.” Felix‘s answer hung in the air, heavy and painful. Astrid felt her breath hitch as her friend so simply suggested breaking the party.

“The other two options are to carry me around and then disqualify yourselves from being able to get the boon because you have dead weight or for all of you to retreat with me. I refuse to hold you back, so I think I should leave. And, I think that my opinion is the most important one right now, Astrid,” Felix stared at her. “You don’t get to make me a prisoner here because you’d prefer it that way.”

“You arrogant prig,” Benedict scoffed, pulling his mouth away from his flute just long enough to insult the guardian. “If I want to cart you around like a side of beef on my back, then that’s what I’m going to do. My Power is almost 100, you think your crippled arse can stop me? Plus, that’s not what Astrid was saying, and you know it. Don’t be an arse because you’re hurt. It’s hard to take words back.”

Felix glared up at Benedict as he said that, but Benedict resumed playing on his flute, casually flipping his middle fingers up at Felix whenever the opportunity presented itself.

“A crippled party member weakens the party with their presence more than with their absence,” Muti said, her breathing heavy. “Those who cannot hunt cannot delve.”

“Exactly,” exclaimed Felix. Something in his voice broke as he said it. “I would rather get left behind than get one of you hurt or killed because of my pride.”

“I did not say that you were crippled,” Muti interjected, her words cracking like a whip. “I merely spoke regarding what a truly crippled member of the party would do. Even injured as you were, you were an asset to the party in that fight. With a potion and continued healing, I do not think that you could reasonably be called crippled.”

Felix blinked twice, looked down at his legs and then his left arm and raised his eyebrows as if that had made his point. Muti hissed dismissively, waving his wordless disagreement off.

“We are seeing that your legs are recovering already. No decision can be made at this time regarding how much you will be able to recover. There has not been enough time to determine how much you can recover. Now, you will not give up,” Muti leaned forward, shaking her finger less than a centimeter from his face. “I did not give you war braids because you are one who would give up before they have tried.”

“Is all this me not trying?” Felix demanded. “I recognize I was damned lucky to be brought in by the rest of you, and I’ve always been grateful for it. But, because I’m in over my head, I nearly died. Yes, dying is a part of delving, but if I hadn’t reached too far, I wouldn’t be here! Maybe, instead, I should’ve been satisfied with being a mediocre delver instead of dying as a great one after two weeks!” The usually quiet man allowed his voice to crescendo to a shout.

After rubbing his hand on his face, the movement obviously painful, he said, “Look at me. I failed you all. If you’d all found a different frontliner, you wouldn’t be in this situation.”

Several seconds passed as each member of the Wanderers took a moment to internalize what he’d said.

“You sound like me,” Skandr was the one to break the silence. “I think, other than our two unflappable women here, the rest of us feel a little inadequate sometimes. And, for the record,“ he said, leveling a finger at Muti without looking at her, “I think you could do with some humility sometimes. But that’s beside the point. I can’t think of any other Bronze tier frontliner who could have potentially gotten a very rare Class like you have. I doubt that more than one person per party outside of us is getting a very rare Class. The way I see it, every single one of us, whether in our party or outside of it, is fighting as hard as we can to keep up with Astrid, and now that the difficulty of that challenge is presenting itself, you’re getting scared.”

Felix seemed like he started to say something, but thought better of it. When he remained silent, Benedict spoke. “If you decide you’re done, you’re done. We won’t be able to convince you otherwise. I don’t think you’re as done as you’re thinking right now, but if you’ve decided to give up and stop trying, even if you stick around, you won’t be able to do anything. In my opinion, as the guy who heals all of you meatheads, I think that the only injury you have that might not be able to be healed by me is your arm. I don’t know a whole lot about the specifics of how it works, I heard something about nerves once and I think it might be that, but there’s some real damage there. Don’t get me wrong, your legs are in bad shape, but I think with a couple hours of concentrated Song of Vindication, I can get you back to walking without problems. So, if you decide you can’t put some real effort in with only your dominant arm, then that’s up to you.”

As soon as the Bard said that, Felix‘s demeanor changed. He perked up, seeming to consider a possibility, then lost some measure of his determination again. Finally, he squared his shoulders, though moving his left arm at all was obviously painful for him.

“I’ll give it a couple hours before I come to any decisions. If I can fight to the level I need to, I’ll move onward. However, if I can’t move the way I need to, then I will return aboveground.”

“I’m not sure what you’re thinking that you leaving will do for the rest of us, but I think you’re probably mistaken with how beneficial it supposedly is going to be,” Skandr said. “We’re as successful as we have been because Astrid and Muti are able to focus on killing things. If Astrid has to become a frontliner, even if only for a little, it’s going to severely cut down our ability to press on so aggressively.”

“In fact,” Astrid added, “if you ask me, where you’re really asking if we want to stay on the thirty-sixth floor as an opportunity to gain experience and practice our Skills or to continue delving after that. After all, if we take a couple days just to stay on the floor and kill a bunch of the cave hobgoblins, we’ll all gain a couple levels, if nothing else.”

“Let’s shelve that discussion for now,” Benedict waved his hand through the air as Felix began to argue back. As he spoke, he maintained eye contact with Felix. “We won’t be able to come to a conclusion until after we all rest anyways, so we might as well allow ourselves some time to come off this stress. Whatever we end up deciding, Felix, your opinion is the only one that matters. If you say you’re done and you’re going back, then you’re done and you’re going back.”

Muti ground her teeth audibly in frustration at that, but nobody disagreed with the statement. Then, an uncomfortable quiet settled over the group as they all set up their cots. Muti prepared Felix’s, helping lay him down on top of the mattress and settling his arms and legs into as comfortable of positions as he could manage, though she forced him to move his arm into a position he didn’t like. When she gave a terse explanation of how it needed to be twisted like that to reset the bone, he stopped his complaints. Then, after helping him drink down a potion, she walked away from the party and set up her own bed.

Astrid deliberately took time to set up her bed, take off her armor, and clean herself before she went to talk to anybody. She wanted to make sure that she had come to a firm conclusion regarding her own feelings before she started talking to other people. Meanwhile, Benedict stayed right beside Felix, channeling a single layer of Song of Vindication through his flute, though he used Silvertongue as well. Skandr experimented with some enchantments on the side, mumbling to himself about something that Astrid didn’t understand. She could tell from his general bearing that he was working on something to help either Benedict or Felix, but she couldn’t tell exactly what it was. As he huffed and dragged his hand through an intricate beginning of an enchantment to begin it anew, Astrid wrung the last of the filthy water from her rag. Laying it on a stair to dry, she walked towards Muti.

The Barbarian moved both of her blades in a constant and smooth kata, the actions appearing simple, but Astrid knew each stretch of her arms was much more complicated than it appeared. Each movement that the Ambusher made stretched and strained separate muscles, being both an exercise and a stretch at the same time. Knowing that her presence was noted, Astrid settled onto a nearby stair to stretch herself. She didn’t want to go through the effort of exercising like Muti, she was too mentally exhausted for that, but she knew stretching would help her sleep.

For several minutes, Astrid lost herself in ensuring her legs, core, chest, and back were well and truly stretched. She was beginning to work on her arms when Muti finally spoke.

“He is weak. No, he is acting as if he was weak. And that makes him weak. He is not weak. But this will make him weak.”

Astrid looked up at Muti and, though it was a struggle, managed to keep herself from saying anything. Her mom had always done this when she started getting upset with other people at home, and she wondered if Muti would fall for the same trick. Muti paced back and forth in front of Astrid, her eyes never leaving the Warrior’s face. As Astrid continued to say nothing, the golden blonde bent over to loom over the redhead.

“You have nothing to say? Is he not being weak?”

Astrid just looked up at Muti. She raised her eyebrows, and, after staring for a few more seconds, asked, “What do you want me to say to that?”

“I wish for you to speak! What form your words take does not matter so much as a willingness to engage! That is what it means to show that you are the manner of leader I think you are. Others in the party show that they are willing to change to something worse than they ever were. Will you too change? Or shall you remain constant?”

“So you feel like Felix’s changed himself?“”

“Of course he has changed himself. There is no other way to describe this change. What else does one say about one who once was brave enough to stand before his companions and take all of his enemies’ attacks for his friends’ sakes but now is huddled in a corner and wishing to give up? What is that if not change? What is that if not weakness?”

Astrid nodded slowly before she asked, “His reasons don’t matter to you?”

“The reasons he has provided are not reasons, they are excuses!” Muti resumed pacing, her words dripping from her mouth with derision. “They come from fear, a fear of death. He speaks of fearing death, and it is obvious that this fear for his life has changed the man that once was Felix!”

“Do you think he’s afraid of his own death?”

“Only his life is his responsibility. Our lives are our own. Of course he fears for his own life.”

“Do you think he became a frontliner because he was going to leave his party’s safety in other people’s hands?” Astrid snapped back, losing what little self control she’d managed to keep a hold of. “Or, do you think that he can’t bear the thought of being the reason for one of his allies dying? He’s taken on the responsibility of protecting everyone else, why would he allow death to occur if he can help it?”

Muti’s eyes narrowed and she glanced at the bedridden Felix. She looked back at Astrid, who didn’t say anything but managed to gather herself once more and raised her eyebrows at the taller Barbarian. As Muti allowed herself to calm down, her eyes narrowed.

“That is the kind of fool that Felix is,” Muti grumbled to herself. “It does not make sense for any individual to value the welfare of others before their own, even if their responsibility is to protect. One who is dead cannot protect others. The individual must come first, or else those with value die before those without.”

“I disagree with what you’re saying,” Astrid said, “and we both know that Felix does as well. Now, get some rest, and we’ll see how we’re feeling in the morning.”

Muti nodded and bowed her head to Astrid. “As you command, leader.”

Astrid walked back to her bed, but even before she’d settled in to sleep, Muti was dragging her cot to be beside Felix’s. The Barbarian began her grumbling at the frontliner, but both seemed relieved by the current turn of events. Astrid knew sleep would be long to come, but eventually, she did sleep.

***

“Quit your moaning. I get it, it hurts.”

“More than hurting, it’s just… I don’t have a word for it, Benedict.”

“Uncomfortable. Agonizing. Painful. Weird. Silly. Goofy. Any of those work?”

“Why are you talking as if you’re the one doing the tying, anyways?”

“Because the people need to hear my voice.”

Benedict and Felix continued arguing back and forth, the Guardian obviously putting on an air of being ok as Astrid carefully tied his arm tight to his chest. In his armor, there was plenty to wrap coils around, and, eventually, though it wasn’t pretty, Felix had a good wrap on his left arm. With Astrid’s approval, he carefully went through the motions of battle, moving his axe in his right hand. More than once, he started to move his left arm to balance himself, but failed to move it and instead made himself groan in pain. Finally, after a quarter hour or so, he nodded slowly before turning to Astrid and Muti.

“Put me through the paces, then we’ll try out the next floor.”