Bog Standard Isekai

Book 6 - Chapter 4



The matter of Iaghaid was more or less closed when the Lance woke up in the morning. He learned that not everyone in the Lance had access to [Awaken the Sleeping Ones]. Only he, Cid, and Hedrek had it now.

But even though little more was said about Iaghaid, that didn’t mean their education was over. Over the next few days, they were treated to several lessons on the life and duties of a knight-at-arms. During the war, their duty was pretty simple: just follow orders. But in regular life, the duties of a knight-at-arms was much more complex. They learned about the proper way to travel through territory governed by another Order, what rights of precedence they had in other countries, which monsters and animals could be hunted and which were protected species, and a hundred other legal issues that might come up in their travels.

They studied chivalry, which had a whole lot to do with when you did and didn’t need to accept an enemy knight’s surrender, and had very little to do with opening doors for women.

At the end of a two week crash course in all things knightly, the Order had them stay the entire night in the chapel. They’d been instructed to pray silently and not to sleep. For Brin, after staying so long in the monastery this was hardly an issue, but the men confessed later that it was one of the challenging nights of their lives.

In the morning, there was a ceremonial washing, servants helped them into their armor, and Galan anointed them as full knights-at-arms and members of the Order of the Long Sleep. “In truth, you were full members the moment you swore your vows, but there is still value in adhering to the formalities.”

They all got a notification for their troubles.

Your achievement has advanced:

Knightly (Epic)

You are a fully appointed knight of the Order of the Long Sleep.

You may represent the Order in legal disputes. You may claim rewards or bounties on behalf of the Order. You may defer fines, debts, or damages to the Order. The doors of the Order will open to you.

Galan followed it up with a quick disclaimer that they shouldn’t actually utilize their new authority without permission. It was all very nice, despite the fact that he didn’t know what would happen when he was dismissed from service. It was possible that he’d hold onto this Achievement for another few hours until he resigned from the Order. That was an upsetting thought. He didn’t care about the Order’s money or legal protection, but he really wanted to hold onto [Knightly’s] combat bonus.

After that, each member of the Lance was awarded with lands. Cid was excepted because he was already the son of a Count, and Brin because owning land in Olland would be problematic for the First Son of Edelor. He got the idea that the land they were getting were homestead-sized rather than county-sized, and that it was mostly a way to give them the social power of landowners.

Then it was over. Brin would spend one more day and night with the Lance, and then head to the Tower. The men left to the practice grounds, eager to do something that wasn’t lectures or study.

Brin held back a bit while deciding if he wanted to join them. Yes, he’d like to spend one last day doing something together as a Lance, but in his state he didn’t get a lot of benefit out of sparring or weapons training. He could insist on conditioning, because that would at least help him slow the depletion and give him some points in [Recovery], but he’d wear out so much faster than everyone else that it didn’t sound like fun.

Galan caught him while he was standing just outside the doorway of the stronghold, watching the men walk further away. “I have something for you. A parcel from Lumina. She wishes for you to use this before you return to Steamshield in three weeks time. Never feared that I opened the letter addressed to you. There was one to me as well.”

He took the leather box, about the size of a suitcase, and his magic sensed a good deal of glass within. A letter from Lumina was tucked into a front pocket. “Thank you, sir.”

“I hope you know that you have no duty to return to the Tower. Lumina has not attempted to hide from me the trouble you may expect to find there, and to be perfectly frank, and though Lumina is a dear friend, it galls me a bit to see a knight-at-arms of my Order told to come and go by a [Mage]. If it is your wish to stay with us, I would be glad to keep you. Or I could even send you to our own Temple of Eternity. You have shown that you desire magic and have no aversion to prayer. They would welcome you,” said Galan.

Brin was a bit shocked; he’d expected the invitation to stay with the Order, but not an invitation to Olland’s version of the Tower. The Temple of Eternity was legendary. Perhaps it wasn’t the equal of the Tower in terms of pure magical knowledge, but it was much more exclusive, which meant that the casters that came out of there had mysterious and unpredictable powers compared to a regular [Mage]. If Galan really could get Brin an invitation… He bit his lip to bring himself back to reality. “Yes, sir. I’ll give that some thought, but I won’t pretend I don’t know my answer. I want to go to the Tower. If I wasn’t going there, then I would go support Metlion in New Edelor.”

Galan was unphased. He’d clearly expected that answer as well. “Very well. Sir Brin isu Yambul, I place you on indefinite leave. Your status as an active knight-at-arms in the Order of the Long Sleep is unchanged. Make sure your conduct continues to adhere to the high standards of honor and valor that you have demonstrated thus far. Return to us at any time. Now and forever, the doors of the Order will open to you.”

He saluted, and Brin saluted back. “Yes, sir.”

Marksi squeaked, and Galan crouched down to put his hand on his shoulder. “What do you mean ‘What about me?’ I see no reason to put you on leave. No, as far as I’m concerned, you’re still an active member of the Order. Will you keep traveling with your Lance? No? Well, then in that case, I charge you with keeping this young man safe. Can you do that?”

Marksi nodded firmly. Then it was really done. Galan strode away to other business, and Brin gazed over at his Lance, separated into pairs to work on their technique.

He looked down at Marksi. “Did you want to talk about Iaghaid?”

Marksi twitched his tail in a noncommittal direction.

“Did you eat a piece of him?”

No. But Marksi didn’t look offended by the question. It was natural to eat and grow stronger, but that corpse was too old and weird-smelling.

“He was strong. Did it hurt to see him dead like that?”

Marksi snorted in derision. No, Iaghaid had brought that on himself. If you were going to pick a fight with humans, then you better be strong enough to win. It didn’t bother Marksi that Iaghaid had hated humans, that was a personal opinion. But he could’ve just left across the sea or lived on top of a mountain, or even sat under a pond like Marksi’s mom for a thousand years.

“Then what are you thinking about? I can tell Iaghaid got you thinking,” said Brin.

Marksi leaned his weight onto his forepaws again, to make it look like his arms and shoulders were larger than his rear legs. This is how he acted when he was pretending to be the Handrake.

“Him again? The reason the Handrake’s fighting style works is because he weighs like six tons. I don’t think you should try to grow that fast; you only get to be small once. And Marksi, the Handrake is an ambush predator. He can only fight for like two minutes before he needs to take a nap.”

Marksi ran around in a circle around Brin, his fat stomach wobbling.

“Oh, is that right? You’re going to do better because you won’t be as lazy. You’re going to work on your Stamina like Lurilan told you. Is that it?”

Marksi nodded.

Brin said, “Prove it.”

Marksi darted off. He went to the fence and quick as an eel, sprinted in a quick circuit around the fortress grounds. By the time he made it around the entire complex, he was beginning to slow about, but looked extremely proud of himself, like he’d shown his determination.

Brin joined him for the second lap, and if Marksi was going to stop before, now he couldn’t. Brin pushed his body to move as fast as he thought was safe, using the armor to soften the blows of his footsteps and allow him to go just a bit faster. Marksi pulled ahead immediately, but by the end of Brin’s first lap, he was starting to catch up.

Marksi started to fade by the fourth lap, and looked like he was ready to quit. That’s when the rest of the Lance joined in. Marksi pulled ahead of all of them again; he always had more energy if it meant a chance to show off.

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Lurilan had told Brin that dragons had no limits. That was the kind of motivational speech you would give to anybody, but what if it was actually true for dragons? Marksi seemed to have a limitless store of energy if he thought he should, but as soon as he started to doubt himself he could be as weak as a fawn.

Marksi started to tire again on the seventh lap. Brin sent a quick message to the Lance to let them in on what he was thinking, and they all started to huff and complain that it was too much and they were going to quit. That was nonsense of course; these guys could run all day. But Marksi now thought that victory was in reach. He ran another lap, until Brin really did have to quit.

The rest of them ran five more laps, and then the other guys pretended to collapse from exhaustion. Each time one did, it seemed to completely revitalize Marksi.

He ran for three hours, losing members of the Lance one by one until it was only him and Cid. At last, Marksi collapsed in a huff, looking more frustrated than tired. At the end, Brin congratulated Marksi for doing so well and gave him all the best scritches, but Marksi just looked irritated that he lost the endurance race.

“You know, I think the reason you want to use your foreclaws in combat so much is because you see all of us fighting with our weapons,” said Brin.

Marksi glared at him. A dragon did not need weapons.

“I’m not saying that. I’m saying that even Hedrek didn’t roll out of the crib knowing how to fight.” Brin was on dangerous ground here, because Marksi had already insisted that dragons didn’t practice, either. But was that really true, or was that just what dragons said because they tended to be kind of lazy?

Marksi didn’t really answer. He just waddled back to where the Lance was sparring, and tapped Govannon’s leg until he started paying attention to him. It took a lot of skittering around, guessing, and miming before Govannon understood what Marksi wanted.

They began to spar, after a fashion. Marksi had very strong opinions on the way that he wanted this to go. He didn’t want Govannon to strike back; he just wanted him to deflect Marksi’s attacks with his practice sword.

Govannon was pretty awkward at first, because when Marksi attacked he leapt with his whole body and he wasn’t sure how much force to apply. But after a few minutes of testing the waters, he started to move a lot more naturally. Marksi was pretty tough for something his size, and it wouldn’t be easy for Govannon to hurt him with the dull practice sword.

The quick dash and blocks became quicker and quicker, and Marksi started practicing new angles and different kinds of swipes and slashes of his claws. He grew and hardened them as the spar went on, settling on a more triangular shape than knives of bone, so that they’d be sturdy enough to strike metal.

Govannon was clearly enjoying himself, because Marksi was a quick, slippery, and unpredictable fighter, which was also how Brin would describe Govannon. They would circle slowly, and then suddenly both lash out in a series of lightning-quick motions that were hard to track. Then it would be over just as fast and Marksi would prepare another angle.

At the end of it, Govannon was really sweating, and Marksi might have discovered the end of a dragon’s endurance. He was panting and shaking, and wanted Brin to carry him to ward off the cold.

Brin found a warm chair in the great hall near the fire, and opened Lumina’s package. Inside, were dozens of little labeled bottles of all different colors. He read the letter.

My dearest Brin,

The time for us to reunite draws near, and I couldn’t be more eager for that happy date. I could write a hundred pages and it still not be enough, so let us catch up fully in person when you arrive in Steamshield.

For now, please turn your attention to the package I’ve had delivered. I’m sure by now you’ve heard of this, and yes, it’s just what you’re thinking! These are the poisons that are going to give you the [Poison Resistance] Skill.

Please do not take this the wrong way. I do not have any particular reason to believe you will be poisoned in the Tower. This is something all young people of noble standing take care of before entering society, and I want you to have every advantage possible.

Now, [Poison Resistance] cannot be earned by simply dousing yourself with any old poisons. In fact, the wrong exposures can make you more vulnerable to poisons. You must take the correct poisons in the correct amounts over time in order to build up resistance and eventually immunity. Once you have immunity to a select amount of poisons, the System will award you with the Skill. It is extremelyimportant that you take the proper poisons in the correct amounts, at the correct times.

To start, imbibe three drops of the yellow bottle labeled ‘Sunspot’ per day, one with each meal. You will also drink the full bottle of Frozen Tears on the first day, but make certain that you’re sitting down, and within short distance of a privy when you do so…

That was way cooler than anything than he’d expected, and no, he’d never actually heard of this. He got started right away, taking all the poisons that Lumina said he should have the first day. He felt a burning in his stomach, and then began to feel very hot, and Lumina hadn’t been joking about staying near the privy, but it was nothing compared to the kinds of things he’d endured in the war, so he didn’t let it bother him.

He slept one last time in a bunkroom with the Lance. It was weirdly familiar but also hard to get used to after the silence of the monastery, and he found it hard to drift off with all the burping, farting, and snoring in the room. It was annoying, but at the same time, he knew he’d miss it when they stopped annoying him.

In the morning, he said his goodbyes. Govannon was first, which was difficult because he didn’t know what to say to him. But apparently Govannon had been rehearsing something in his mind, because he started. “Thank you for being my friend. You were the only one who was nice to me back at the start.”

“Govannon, I–” He suddenly felt like crud, because he’d barely made an effort. If this was how Govannon remembered him, then he really wished he’d been a better friend. “You’re a good [Knight].You’ve grown the most out of all of us, and you’ve turned into someone really admirable. I’ll be proud to call you my friend.”

“Thank you. I’m going to transfer to another Lance,” Govannon admitted, a bit shamefaced.

“I know Cid will be sad to lose you.”

Govannon glanced at the men, lined up and waiting for their own personal farewells, and adjusted the helmet settings so the conversation could be heard only by he and Brin. “They still see me as the little twit I was at the start of this. You know, the one who stole Cowl’s food and tried to tear down Hedrek all the time. I want friends who know me for the person I am now.”

“I think our Lance is already coming around,” said Brin.

“Maybe, but… I want a fresh start.”

Brin clapped him on the shoulder. “I understand. And I wish you all the best, Govannon. Truly.”

Next up was Cowl.

Brin said, “I wonder if I did what was right by not pressing about what brought you back to the monastery.”

“I didn’t want to burden you with it,” said Cowl.

“I wish I could’ve done more for you. Everyone was focused on my mental breakdown, but I wasn’t the only one suffering,” said Brin.

“You were everything I needed you to be,” said Cowl. “I didn’t join the Order because I thought I could have a life free from pain. They promised me a purpose, so that I’d have a reason to keep going even though it hurts.”

Brych was next. “Now that you’re gone, there will finally be some girls left for the rest of us.”

“Where are you going to meet any? All the girls you know are the ones who came over to see me,” said Brin. And many of those were dead now, he didn’t add.

Brych snorted, shaking his head. “Keep your eyes open.”

“You too,” said Brin. “And… don’t just marry the first girl who’s a little bit nice to you. There’s going to be a lot of ladies who want what you’ve got.”

“Promise?”

Meredydd was next. He twirled a gold coin around in his fingers. “I guess we made pretty good money when you were around, but I hope our next Second knows more about loot.”

“What are you talking about? I made a ton of money,” said Brin.

“I knew it!”

“Hey, if I travel through Fortmouth on the way back, would you want me to look up your fiancée?”

“What, you think I want her first impression of her new husband to be that he hangs around with you?

Brin chuckled. “Fair enough.”

Meredydd grabbed his arm before he could turn away. “I was joking. Please spy on her for me.”

Next, he spoke to Aeron. “Wait, have you been here this whole time?”

“As the most handsome and dependable man in the Lance, I resent that,” said Aeron.

Brin looked at Rhun. “You’re really going to let him try to steal your title?”

“He can call himself that now if he wishes. After all, I will be leaving with you,” said Rhun.

“What?”

“With the war complete, I’ll find Sion and finish out my contract,” said Rhun.

“He wouldn’t expect you to. He’d feel lucky if all you did was offer to buy him out,” said Brin. “He paid for a year’s service from a low-level [Warrior], not a high-level [Knight].”

“That’s why it’s important I honor my promise. He showed his colors when he saved us in Canibri. As a true man of Prinnash, I cannot let myself be outdone by a common [Merchant].”

Brin shook his head, amused, because even after all this time, Rhun was still so Rhun.

“You punch pretty hard for a pipsqueak,” said Hedrek. “Get over this little curse thing you’ve got on you. I want to see if I can finally beat you.”

Brin clasped Hedrek’s forearms and then pulled himself in close, meeting Hedrek’s eyes. “You will never, ever, ever win against me. You know that, right?”

Hedrek laughed. “That’s him! That’s our guy!”

“I’m really going to miss you, man,” said Brin.

“Heh, you’re alright, Brin. See you around.”

Last was Cid. The Prime saluted, “What can be said about the many perils you led us through? Each challenge was more impossible than the last, and yet you brought us victory. I am proud to have served you.”

Brin said, “You mean that I served under you.”

Cid grinned wryly. “I think we both know that isn’t true.”

“I don’t know that at all. You were the one who brought this Lance together and made us into a team. You brought down the Paragon and you saved us from [Dread Knights] with your magic sword, trailing those cool white lines in the air–”

“You can see sword aura?” Cid asked.

“What?” Brin asked.

“What?” Cid asked.

Sword aura? Is that what that was? Didn’t that sound completely awesome? He wanted to ask about it, but now they were having a moment here and it was the wrong time to ask about Cid’s power set.

“You were the best Prime I can imagine, Gurthcid Trevorrow. I hope your next Second knows what they’re doing, at least a little,” said Brin.

“That will be me,” said Hedrek.

“So that’s a no,” said Brin. “Well, good luck in any case.”

“Good luck, and safe travels,” said Cid.

Brin was glad that Rhun was going to be traveling with him, at least for the first leg of the journey. It lessened the sting, to not leave them all behind at once. They talked of their plans, of the future, and of the things they’d seen and learned in the Order’s fortress, and for a while he didn’t have to think about the parting.

He didn’t have to think about how, maybe right at this moment, Cid was picking out the man who would replace Brin. Maybe he’d weigh the pro’s and con’s of the new person who was taking Brin’s place. Con: He’s not a walking spy network. Pro: He’s not a famous disaster magnet.

Cid would have to find four new guys, unless he kept Rhun’s spot open for him. How would that be, to have four strangers riding with the Lance, eating their meals and joking just like they used to do with Brin, Anwir and the rest? He couldn’t imagine it.

They rode with the rising sun, sending sparkling lines of light across the Ollandish snowfields. South, towards the Tower.

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