"Me?" he was stunned more so than angry, "What did I do?"
"By the Gods, 'what did you do'!? You're trying to tell me you don't realize? Did you forget the fireball you dropped at your own feet? Damn, if you're this incompetent, we might as well just turn back now! The Academy will laugh at me for bringing you!" She looked on the verge of explosion, her hands now grasped firmly by her side as if she had to physically restrain herself from striking him.
"Wait, what do you mean by that? I'm confused as to where you are going with this." His own anger was slowly creeping back, and it was a trial to stop it from surfacing in his words and actions.
"Did it ever occur to you to trust in us, your friends, to rescue you? Instead of taking it in your own hands and completely throwing out everything we were working for?" She paused, considering Marcius with dangerous, narrowed green eyes. "No, it didn't occur to you, did it? I'm not sure if I want to put my life in the hands of someone who doesn't trust me." The jaw line around her mouth tightened as she spat the words out.
"Look, we got out of it okay. I'm sorry for not thinking ahead, okay? I apologize, I was wrong. I did what I thought I had to do, but it was a mistake." Marcius's voice strained as he struggled with his fury.
Instead of placating her, his words only seemed to infuriate her more. "You did what you thought you had to do?! You don't even understand the meaning behind those words. Don't you dare say them again! The only reason you even survived that was because I saved your sorry life! If I didn't quick cast that shield spell, you'd be an obscure crater in the middle of the woods! Is that how you want to be remembered? Marcius Realure, the Blackened Crater of Stupidity?"
Marcius exploded, the words coming out in a rush of heat. "That's easy for you to say! You were not the one being strangled by a huge oggron! You didn't have to see his sneer staring you in the face as you slowly died! I don't know about you, but I'd rather my death be in my own hands, and not have it as some sadistic pleasure for some monster! I don't draw breath for his satisfaction!"
His retort seemed to steal some of Alicia's bluster, for she recoiled just a bit in surprise before stepping forward to intently stare up at Marcius's face, studying him for a few seconds. It took all his willpower not to flinch from her probing gaze.
"Is that so?" she said quietly, the sudden calmness coupled with her pleasant northern accent scared Marcius far more than seeing her angry. "Remember that you have a responsibility to your friends, next time. Okay? We're in this together. I've done things for you two, and I expect for you to show me the same respect by trusting me. Remember that show of faith I asked of you so long ago? Time to display it."
Her fingertip pushed Marcius hard in the chest, causing him to stumble back a bit, before she turned around and continued down the road, not waiting to see if Marcius and Jared followed her.
A stunned Marcius could only look to Jared, who had remained silent throughout the entire spectacle. The blonde swordsman walked up to stand next to his friend, both of them staring at the back of Alicia. Her swaying bronze hair caught the light and seemed to shine, somehow matching the gentle golden hue of the Golean. "I told you," Jared started smugly, breaking the awkward silence. "The best way to get her to become our friend is to treat her like a person. Didn't I, Marc?"
"What do you mean?" Marcius asked numbly, still a bit taken aback. He mentally ran through the entire encounter, yet he could find no tangible reason for her change of heart.
"She called us her 'friends,' Marc. She called us her 'friends'! I'll bet you anything that we're the first ones she's ever had. I would say that was her, rather feeble I'll admit, attempt at saying she forgave you."
"Funny way to treat your friends. . . "
Jared stared thoughtfully at Marcius, and then glanced at Alicia who had started walking back; no doubt ready to berate them for lagging behind. "Not really. She's scared, that much is obvious. She would never admit it and this is probably just her way of dealing with it, I think. Let's be patient. Whatever is really bothering her will eventually come out. And you know what she said is true. We're in this together. You're my best friend, and the world would be a duller place without you."
Jared jogged out to intercept Alicia, leaving Marcius to digest what he said. She was. . . scared? So he wasn't the only one? A part of him, hidden away where it could avoid the conscience, took pleasure in the fact that he had not been alone in that regard. People needed him? Even though he was nothing more than a burden? A thought struck him. "Jared!" he called out.
The blonde man turned around, walking backwards as he looked at Marcius questionably. "What is it, Marc?" he yelled back, arms wide open.
"Were you scared too?"
Jared grinned, "Out of my mind! I'm just good at hiding it! Isn't adventure grand!?"
Marcius smiled back. Jared's easy going manner was a balm on his nerves. "Hurry up, you lag about!" Alicia shouted now that she was close enough. "I saw a trade caravan a bit further up, over the next hill! We can probably hitch a ride the rest of the way!" She was as insistent as always, but this time instead of a scowl, she wore just the faintest trace of a smile. Marcius agreed with his earlier assessment of the woman. She truly did shine when she smiled.
Please, never do that again, Marc. The power I grant isn't meant for suicide.
"Okay!" Marcius cupped his hands over his mouth and shouted back, both to his familiar and Alicia. He stole one last glance at Harcourt, shimmering off in the distance. It was hard to believe he had just escaped Death's door, and it was even harder to believe that he was honestly becoming excited about this journey. He had almost died, for Avalene's sake! He should be scared, hell he was scared, but he'd learn, the Gods as his witness, he'd learn.
He had a promise to fulfill to Antaigne and his father, and he swore to be a burden no longer to his friends. If the Academy was the only way to ensure that, well then he'd do it with a smile on his face and on his heart. No longer would he let other people do the fighting for him. He felt an uplifting surge of agreement, no doubt from Faerril.
We have good friends. And Alicia looks funny when she's angry, all flushed and red.
Chuckling, Marcius couldn't agree more, on both accounts. Onward he hurried toward his friends, the caravan, and subsequently, Harcourt.
❧ ❧ ❧
"We're staying here?!" Alicia fumed, glaring at the building in front of her.
"We don't have much of a choice, considering the amount of coin we have," Jared responded in a placating voice. He jingled the pouch Alicia had given him pointedly.
Marcius said nothing, but inwardly his sentiments reflected Alicia's. The tavern his friend had lead the three of them to seemed, in comparison to the rich lofty portion of Harcourt they had walked through only hours before, barely passable as a shack. But Jared was the only one out of the three of them that had any extensive experience in the city. Marcius obviously had never been outside of Rhensford, and Alicia even admitted to only passing through Harcourt. So it was up to Jared to guide them as they collectively searched for a way to make enough money in the city to afford them the rest of the way to Aralene.
It made sense, in the logical portion of his head. If they saved money on room and board, it would go a long way in accomplishing their goals, and according to Jared, this place always had the lowest rates. But looking at the squalid tavern was enough to shake any faith he had in his blonde friend. Did they honestly have to go this low?
We have fallen low indeed, and the scent makes me sick.
Marcius wrinkled up his nose, subtly agreeing with his familiar. The smell was as bad as the view, something akin to the odor that lingered around poorly maintained stables. Everything around the Lowtown district just looked so used, worn down, and dirty. The people that hung about all wore the same sullen, defeated look as the buildings. Marcius found it difficult to ascertain if the residents of the Lowtown modeled their environment, or if the environment reflected the thoughts and feelings of those around it. This was where people who were defeated by life went to wallow in their misery. A place of forgotten dreams and lost hope.
And dust! It was everywhere! In his shoes, on his clothing, his hair, finding refuge in every facet of his known body, and even in some places he didn't know of until now! How could one live in such conditions? How could one end of the city be so magnificent, with temples awash in splendor proclaiming the laurels of their god or goddess and gaudy nobles chatting with smiles upon their faces, while the other side sat in quiet agony?
Rhensford had a poor district as well, but it was never this bad! Or was it? Maybe he just refused accepting such an uneasy notion of his hometown, subconsciously ignoring the truth before his very eyes? It just didn't make sense. Marcius sighed dismissively. Such thoughts were best reserved for later, when he wasn't standing in the middle of a dirty road, staring at a run-down tavern that would be his home for the next couple of days. Hopefully it wouldn't go beyond that. The place felt like a trap, drawing people in and ensnaring them in a web of hopelessness and despair. Something Marcius had felt a lot of, ever since the attack on Antaigne.