Redemption Arc

As Lucian walked into the abandoned mine, he flinched as the torch flared near his face. He really wasn’t cut out for spelunking. He’d have to get used to it soon enough, though, as there’d be plenty more of it in the future. Fortunately for him, the close confines of the cave started to open up into a grand cavern.

“Here it is,” Guard-Commander Roger said, holding his magic lamp up.

Lucian was acutely aware of the beating of his heart as he beheld this grandiose relic of ages past. Looming above them was a heart seemingly carved out of stone. The natural flame of his torch contrasted with the blue light of the magic lamp, hueing the room in splendid colors. The heart was utterly gigantic, maybe the size of a blue whale. It was held up by veins descending from the ceiling—or maybe they’d be arteries. He fell asleep during anatomy class.

“It looks a lot more impressive than I was expecting,” Lucian admitted.

“What were you expecting?” Roger asked.

Lucian sighed. “I don’t know.”

In the game, it had been a rather unimpressive looking stone heart. But then, the Grand Canyon was just a big hole in the ground. It was difficult to get a sense of the scale without being there in person.

“The view is probably the most impressive thing about it,” Roger said, then pointed up to the distance. “You can walk up on the cliff over there, put your hand against it. It’s still warm. Some people claim they can feel it beating, but I know some researchers have put an instrument alongside it to test that fact and came back with nothing.”

“I’ll check it out for myself,” Lucian said.

With that, he left Roger at the floor of the cavern as he walked along the walkway on the edge. It wasn’t a particularly difficult or precarious trek to arrive at the cliff that bridged over to the Titan’s Heart, but Lucian couldn’t stop feeling his heart beating. Maybe he was only focused on it because he was thinking about hearts.

Lucian walked across a narrow, dangerous-looking stone bridge to make it to the petrified heart. He stepped up to it and put his hand out, setting it against the stone. Like Roger had said, it was warm to the touch. The stone was slightly damp, giving one the impression that it might be genuine flesh.

Why are so many blessings related to committing crimes? Lucian lamented, fidgeting with his fingers uncomfortably. At least I didn’t break into the canalworks brazenly in front of the Guard-Commander. At least he can’t see the specifics of what I’m doing… elsewise he might call me a demon summoner.

For the first time that Lucian could recall, he used his mind to enter into the Inquisitor’s Mark on his hand. There were countless torrents of power clashing within, each vying for supremacy. It was as though his consciousness had drifted off into another dimension. He ignored all of the forces brewing within with the exception of one. He drew it out, empowering it with demonic energy, whereupon white holy chains surged forth and tamed that power.

A revolting, gargantuan stinger erupted out of the mark on the back of Lucian’s hand. The same white holy chains kept it bound, contained, and subservient to his will. It surged forth with terrifying celerity, slamming into the heart and emitting a sharp explosion. For a moment, it didn’t break, and Lucian was terrified that he’d made a mistake.

Suddenly, a section of the heart crumbled away, revealing a cavernous inner chamber from which hot air and smoke dissipated. He was worried that he’d come too early for the blessing to manifest, but when he saw a pearl glowing within, couldn’t help but smile.

“Hey, what…!” Roger shouted. “What did you just do?!”

Lucian didn’t respond. He entered into the cavity that his attack had opened up. He stared up at the blessing waiting for him, but didn’t move to take it. He waited for Roger to come up to the cliff and see what he was doing.

“There’s a blessing from the gods here,” Lucian pointed, demonstrating that fact. “I need it for the future.”

Roger swallowed, then walked closer. “But how did you know that?”

“My patron,” Lucian said plainly.

“Well…” he sputtered. “The hell am I supposed to say when you keep bringing that up? Who the hell’s your patron, one of the gods?”

Lucian didn’t reply. He reached upward toward the blessing and its pearly brilliance popped upon making contact with one of his fingers. He felt its energy course into him, particularly concentrated around his chest. It felt as though a giant’s hand took hold of his heart, and he kneeled for a bit and grabbed his chest from the intensity of the sensation.

“Whoa, hey…” Roger stepped forward.

“I’m fine. Too young for a heart attack. And believe me, with how high my blood pressure is, I’m sure it would’ve happened by now.” Lucian felt at his heart.

In the game, this blessing had been very simple.

You’ve received the Blessing of the Titan’s Heart.

+5 HP

+3 CON

You’ve gained the ability to purge yourself of all negative status ailments once per battle.

In War of Four, this ability hadn’t been particularly useful. It was okay, no denying it, but generally the player had plenty of items to mitigate statuses by the time they reached the mission where they could get it. Lucian thought that the ability would be quite useful in his current situation, and the attribute gains were almost exactly what he needed at this stage. Fragility was his primary problem.

The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.

“You think you can keep this quiet?” Lucian asked.

“Considering that most of your family could order assassins to kill me quite easily, I think that’s a given,” Roger said. “Heavens… no one would believe me if I told them what I knew anyway. But how did you destroy this wall?”

Lucian looked around. “Just have to swing hard enough.”

“And you can?”

“What can I say? I’m a real heartbreaker,” Lucian said glibly.

Roger groaned.

Lucian looked at his hand. Using the Inquisitor’s Mark for that attack was a huge waste of the valuable currency he’d earned. But without it, he wasn’t sure he could break into this heart at all. On hardcore difficulty, it required an attack to deal at least 100 damage in one hit to break through. Even for Rowan, that was a hard threshold to meet.

“Let’s get you out of here…unless you’ve got morenonsense to pull.”

“Maybe later,” Lucian said, and Roger shook his head as they left.

***

Lucian was in a good mood as he returned to the Villamar Estate. He was actually somewhat eager to see Cate once more. It was refreshing to have someone that enjoyed his presence without reservations, even if it wasn’t for reasons within his control. Cate seemed to be the only person that liked Lucian, and in turn she was the only person he’d liked. She hadn’t so much as said a word, but their bond was clear.

As he came to the entrance, he saw Denzel sitting on the stairway leading up. He looked particularly broody today. Denzel was always a bit broody, but he had a certain super-brood mode that Lucian recognized.

“Out whoring?” Denzel asked.

“Please. Demons would positively love my blood,” Lucian dismissed.

“The hell does that mean?”

Lucian touched a hand to his chest. “I’m a chaste, innocent maiden.”

Denzel shook his head. He sighed broodingly. Lucian was prepared to just walk past him, but then he said, “I’ll give you your money when we return to Verne.”

Lucian didn’t understand what he meant for only a heartbeat. It dawned on him, then. Denzel had spoken to his father. That meant that Lucian had won the bet. He would have been happy about winning some money ordinarily, but the bet was essentially whether or not war was coming. He would have preferred to have lost it.

“I wish it were otherwise,” Lucian said.

“Do you?” Denzel asked with a raised brow.

“Of course. I imagine half of the people we fight in any war will be targeting me,” Lucian said.

Denzel looked to concede the point. He drew a knife, and then produced a whetstone. Lucian decided to leave him to his edge sharpening/brooding session. He walked up the stairs and entered the estate. It was unusually quiet. Lucian proceeded onward through the halls, where he heard a commotion.

Duke Metterand entered into view. It looked like he was dragging something. That something came into view soon enough. He held Cate by the hair, pulling her along heartlessly. She tried to keep up with him, but his pace was so fast that she bumped into walls. When she stumbled, he didn’t slow—he kept dragging her by her hair. Her caretaker followed close by, babbling incoherently in concern.

“Metterand!” Lucian shouted, running forward.

He honestly didn’t know what he was doing. Duke Metterand could kill him easily—but even with all that in mind, he ran forward, ready to act. He didn’t even have time to do anything foolish, though. Metterand pulled Cate forward and pushed her toward Lucian. She fell on her hands and knees, but Metterand placed a foot on her back and kicked her the rest of the way.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!” Lucian shouted, rushing to kneel down beside Cate.

Metterand looked furious, but he spoke calmly. “I was teaching. Something you failed to do, evidently.”

“Teaching?!” Lucian shouted.

Cate cried, but she didn’t sob. Even now, she didn’t make so much as a sound. Her scalp was bleeding, but still her mouth stayed closed.

“Lower your voice. It’s improper,” Metterand said, holding his hand out. “My wife vandalized my personal documents and my study. Words don’t get through to her, as you know. So, I corrected her mistakes.”

Lucian healed the tears on her scalp with his magic. “That doesn’t justify this,” Lucian said, comforting Cate.

“I’ve heard you’re no longer heir to Villamar,” Metterand said, fixing the cuffs on his sleeves. “And I know your father doesn’t care for his daughter overmuch. You…” He took a few steps closer. “…are on very thin ice, Lucian. I would advise that you walk very carefully. I care not one whit about some dim-witted girl. Our marriage was a mistake to begin with. I didn’t understand your father, back then. But now that I do… things will change. How they change? That seems up to you.”

At that, Metterand turned and walked away. Lucian watched him go, comforting Cate all the while. Once he was out of sight, he dedicated his full attention to her. Even once he was gone, she stayed totally silent. Tears and snot ran down her face, but she stayed silent, clinging to Lucian like a log in a flood.

Lucian hugged Cate, rattled. “Come on. Come with me.”

***

Lucian stepped outside the Villamar Estate. As he expected, Denzel was still waiting there, sitting on the stairs and sharpening that too-sharp knife. Prince Denzel had to make sure his edge was just right. Lucian walked up to him boldfaced and sat down. It had taken a while, but he’d managed to get Cate to sleep.

Denzel glanced at him once, but said nothing.

“Seems we have something in common,” Lucian said.

“What’s that?” Denzel asked.

“Can’t protect my family, either.” Lucian gritted his teeth.

The two of them sat there in silence. Lucian reflected. What Metterand did… it was like beating a child. Cate was as innocent as innocent could be. He wouldn’t claim some deep emotional ties for someone he’d met days prior, but he did feel some minor affection toward Cate. No one decent could stand idly by while someone did something like that to her.

“Well… maybe we don’t have that in common anymore,” Lucian said, leaning back. “After all, you’ll be inheriting this place and thousands of acres besides. I’m sure your mom will be fine.”

Denzel paused his sharpening, and glanced guiltily before continuing his task.

Lucian stared out at Golvenne. “Do you want to win that bet, Denzel?”

Denzel looked over. He nodded seriously.

“Help me kill Duke Metterand,” Lucian said.

Denzel stared at him without a word. His gaze was unsteady, shocked. Lucian gritted his teeth, watching the flickering blue lamps of Golvenne in the heart of night.