Relentless Potential (Original Fantasy)

A/N: Everyone loves cookies… right?

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Funnily enough, by the time Thomas and Camilla have made it back to the Mayor's House, he's sweating more for some reason, not less. That's rather unusual all things considered, the walk back from the edge of town is usually a nice cooldown period for him, especially after being pushed to his limits by Camilla.

Panting, he makes a beeline for the kitchen, where he finds Eloise is already hard at work on lunch. Shooting her a quick smile, Thomas puts down the little box of cookies on the dining table and moves over to pour himself a cup of water from the buckets he'd brought from the well upon first light.

Downing the crisp, refreshing water should have made him feel better, but honestly… it doesn't seem to help very much. Wiping the sweat from his brow, Thomas shakes his head.

"Huh… need to get out of this armor, I guess. Feels stifling today."

Eloise shoots him a concerned look at that, but he just smiles and waves her off before gesturing to the box.

"Someone sent me baked goods from the Capital by the way. Cookies of all things, not sure if you've ever had one before out here. You're welcome to try them if you want, I'll be right back."

With that, he hurries over to his bedroom. And it is his bedroom after all these weeks, for all that it'd started out as just a guest bedroom. He's really come to appreciate it, having his own private place in this new world where he can decompress from time to time.

Part of his is tempted to do so now even as he all but tears his Dire Wolf Leather Armor off of his body piece by piece. Tossing it to the floor and changing into something much more comfortable, Thomas rolls his head and shoulders, feeling like he's standing on pins and needles. His body is burning hot and part of him honestly wonders if he might be coming down with something. Does he have a fever, perhaps?

There's a non-zero part of Thomas that just wants to curl up in the bed and sleep it off… but eh, he knows he doesn't have time for that. Eating lunch with Eloise and Camilla will be followed by doing a much smaller amount of work around town, and then he'll be off to learn about potions from Arnold for the rest of the day until dinner, which he'll help Eloise make in order to train his cooking skills a bit more.

No time for lazing about in bed, that's for sure… so with one last longing glance towards the bed in question, Thomas shrugs and begins making his way back to the kitchen, even as his body aches and protests his decision to keep moving.

But hey, he's spent eight weeks refusing to listen to his body's signals at this point, only for the Gift of Relentless Potential to reward him every time. So why stop now?

Of course, Thomas isn't expecting to find Camilla and Eloise together in the kitchen when he returns. Nor does he expect to find them both looming over the little wooden chest that his cookies from the Capital had come in.

"… You decide you wanted one after all, Camilla? Eloise has first dibs since you already refused once, just so we're clear."

But when they turn back to him, neither is holding a cookie in their hands… and the concerned looks on their faces give him pause.

"Lord Thomas… I think there's something wrong with these pastries."

Eloise's words make Thomas blink in surprise.

"Oh? Wrong how?"

"I… I don't know. My Gift of Cooking is telling me that these weren't made right… in fact, its saying they were purposefully made wrong. I can tell something is wrong, but not exactly what it is."

Made wrong? Huh… wait, was that why he felt like shit?

"You know, you might be on to something… I feel like I might be coming down with a case of food poisoning."

Actually, Thomas didn't know where the Capital is in relation to Last Hope. Even two months after arriving in this world, he's never actually seen a map. It's entirely possible that the cookies had taken so long to arrive that they'd just gone bad in the meantime.

"What? Poisoning? You think you've been poisoned?!"

Camilla's alarm is shared by Eloise, the red head scowling while the brunette whimpers. Thomas lets out a laugh and waves them off.

"No, sorry… I just meant the food went bad or something. Maybe the cookies were prepared poorly like Eloise said, or they simply didn't stay fresh being brought all the way out here from the capital. 'Food poisoning' doesn't have to be malicious or intentional… it can be an accident. Maybe that's what happened here."

Camilla's scowl doesn't lessen at his words, nothing he's said seeming to make her feel better. Meanwhile, Eloise slowly shakes her head.

"I-I already said, didn't I? I know what spoiled food looks like… this isn't that. I think… I think we need to take you to the Apothecary, Lord Thomas. Immediately."

Hm. That seemed a bit… over the top. And yet, if it made Eloise feel better, Thomas wasn't opposed to it. He was heading to Arnold's anyways at some point for his next lessons. Shrugging, he makes to take a step forward.

"If you say so-oop!"

Only for his legs to suddenly give out under him, causing him to fall to the ground. He catches himself on the nearest table's edge at least, latching on with an arm that has a strangely unsteady amount of strength in it. His breathing too is becoming increasingly uneven as he pants.

"What… what the…"

"The Young Lord HAS been poisoned! To the Apothecary, quickly!"

Who the hell would poison him? Thomas tries to ask as much, but he can't quite get the words out, even as Camilla swoops forward and gets one of his arms over her shoulders, dragging him towards the door. Eloise hurries after her and before he knows it, they're rushing off to Arnold's place close to the border between Last Hope and the Darkwoods.

As they go, he finds himself getting his footing under him every third step or so. His legs seem to be struggling to decide whether they want to work or not, seeming to act in fits and starts. One moment his body refuses to respond to his orders and the next Thomas is in control again, pushing himself forward and doing half of the work as Camilla picks up the slack.

He… doesn't let up though. Giving up now feels like it could mean the end. It's as though he's staring death in the face… and having to decide whether he's just going to go out like a chump or keep struggling to move forward.

Most people don't get to make that choice. Most people die, fight or not. But Thomas is not most people. And as he forces himself to continue to try to move, he finds some of his strength returning to him. Around the halfway point to the Apothecary's Hut, he gets his feet fully under him again. He's still limping, one arm draped over Camilla's shoulders, but he… he won't die here. He refuses to die here.

As they arrive in front of Arnold's, Eloise screaming for the Apothecary at the top of her lungs, Thomas pushes off of Camilla's shoulder much to the red head's surprise.

"'M fine, Camilla… I can stand…"

"Young Lord, you clearly can't. You-!"

But whatever Camilla was going to say is cut off when Thomas finally breaks free of her and pushes off only to stand under his own power. He sways back and forth, still sweating profusely from what feels like every pore in his body… but he stands. He does not fall, even as Arnold comes out of his hut with a scowl on his face.

"What is it? What's going on?"

The aging Apothecary blinks as Eloise shoves the box of cookies, brought all the way from the Mayor's House, into his face.

"W-We think Lord Thomas has been poisoned! My Gift tells me something is wrong here… but yours should be able to see more clearly!"

Arnold's nostrils flare as he shoots a concerned frown in Thomas' direction. Smiling wanly, Thomas waves a hand through the air as if to say 'it's okay, I'm fine'. The funny thing is, that doesn't feel like a lie… in fact, it feels like he's getting better by the second. Already on the mend, maybe. He just… can't give up. And he hasn't given up, so even if he was poisoned, it doesn't seem able to kill him.

Though really, he's starting to think Camilla and Eloise were freaking out about nothing. Maybe this was just a case of some cookies gone bad and that's all it was. He didn't want to cast aspersions on Eloise or anything, but nothing said she had to be right all the time, right?

"… Yes, these are laced with poison. A highly virulent one at that."

What?

"What?"

Camilla unknowingly mimics Thomas' thoughts even as Eloise gasps in horror and covers her mouth with both hands. Arnold the Apothecary scowls down at the baked goods before turning and rushing back into his hut. He comes back out with a familiar potion vial a moment later and thrusts it into Thomas' hands.

"Drink."

Wrinkling his nose, Thomas huffs as he stares at the vial.

"But this is the preventative for Rot Lung… how is it supposed to help me, exactly?"

Arnold stares at him for a long moment before forcing the vial into his hand.

"You shouldn't even be capable of stringing two words together right now, brat. Still, have you even been listening to my lessons? Yes it's used as a Rot Lung preventative… but at its basis, it's a Purging Potion. Now drink it before you keel over and die, you idiot."

Oh… hm, alright then. Shrugging, Thomas takes the vial, uncorks it, and knocks it back right then and there while Arnold, Camilla, and Eloise all watch on with differing expressions of fascination, horror, and fear on their faces.

Most of those emotions are replaced with disgust when Thomas whips around a moment later and violently expels the contents of his stomach all over the grass next to the side of the dirt path leading to Arnold's Hut. He throws up not just the cookie he ate, but also his breakfast from earlier in the morning… and amidst all of the revolting mess that has just come out of his mouth there seem to be glowing green strands of liquid mixed in.

Staring at it, Thomas wrinkles his nose and turns away. Right… magical poisons. Great.

When he turns back to the others, Camilla has already started questioning Arnold.

"When you say 'highly virulent', what do you mean by that?"

Shrugging, the Apothecary gestures to the remaining cookies.

"I mean that a single bite would be enough to kill most men and women unless they had some sort of Martial Gift that gave them a physical boost. An entire confection… would probably be enough to kill even someone like you, Dame Ackinworth."

Camilla stiffens, staring at the cookies silently for a long moment before whipping back around to stare at him. Thomas, feeling MUCH better now and getting back to full strength by the moment, holds his hands up in surrender.

"Don't start now please. I would hope you don't think I somehow poisoned myself or anything like that…"

Camilla, to his surprise, blanches at that, rearing back as if struck.

"What?! No, that's not… of course not! You just… I…"

He can see suspicion warring with doubt on her face and Thomas thinks he might even be able to tell what Camilla is thinking in that moment. After all, if she still believes that the original Thomas poisoned his own brother, she might also believe that whoever got him the poison in the first place has sent this along to try to tie up loose ends.

The strange thing is, this poison and the poison that waylaid the older son of House Marlow can't have been the same one, right? Because the journal entry had been clear that the elder brother hadn't died yet, merely put into an extended sleep… a coma, from the sound of things.

And yet, Camilla's suspicions are coming right up against the last eight weeks… and she's finding herself tongue tied. It's clear to Thomas that she wants to question and interrogate him, but equally clear to him that she can't look back at these past two months and reconcile what she's seen of him with a man capable of poisoning his own brother in the first place.

When combined with the fact that he'd just survived a poisoning… Camilla ultimately keeps her mouth shut, falling into a state of quiet contemplation rather than accuse him of anything untoward. Thomas decides he'll take that… it's better than being interrogated after all.

Especially if they go straight to questioning how he survived this poisoning in the first place. Because that… that would be hard for Thomas to answer, given he's supposed to have the 'Gift of Leadership', something that would almost certainly not save him from a 'highly virulent poison'.

In the interest of avoiding such questions, Thomas forces a smile onto his face and ignores the acidic taste in his mouth and throat as he claps his hands together.

"Right! Now that that's taken care of… shall we head back home for lunch? I don't know about you ladies, but I am starving. Good seeing you Arnold and thanks for the help… I'll be around later for our usual lessons!"

When all three of them look at him like he's crazy, Thomas just smiles and turns on his heel to start walking back. After all, it's the only thing he can do, right? His Gift just saved him from a fatal poisoning all because he refused to give up. At this point, putting one foot in front of the other is making him literally unkillable, apparently.

… Fake it till you make it had never felt more real.

Of course, by doing so, Thomas misses the expressions of guilt and worry on both Camilla's and Eloise's faces. It's too bad he can't read minds, because in that moment he might have appreciated knowing what was going through their heads.

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A/N: Thomas can survive just a little poisoning. As a treat!

Please let me know what you think! Your feedback, suggestions, and ideas for this story are keeping the inspiration flowing in a big way!

Plug: There will always be FIFTEEN (15) Bonus Chapters of this story to read over on my Patreon!

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https://www.royalroad.com/fiction/157707/relentless-potential-original-fantasy