Chapter 62 – Epilogue
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Two days had passed after the… incident. The incidents. The battle. Losing Moran. Jack becoming a…

It was only on the third day that things had finally started to move again. Life resumed course. Not quickly. Definitely not by leaps and bounds. But it was around then that people realized they had to get out of their beds, out of their houses and greet the sun. Too long had they nursed heir wounds, figuratively or realistically.

That being said, there were those that had been up and about even before. Those that had to move and take care of things, since it was demanded of them. It was one of them that now exited a building and greeted a young woman, who had been anxiously waiting for her.

“Elia!” Lola said, giving her a hug. “I thought you’d forgotten to come out.”

“I wouldn’t forget about our lunch, Lola.”

“Not our lunch, no, but you do forget to eat.” She laughed, before growing serious again. “How are you? Have you gone to see… them?”

The older woman refrained from answering from a second, as if gathering strength.

“No. I don’t believe they want any contact with the outside world. But we’ll see them today. There’s no chance they wouldn’t come.”

“And Ava? I get that the others would need time, especially… Jack.” Lola forced herself to say. “But I never though Ava would leave his side.”

“Me neither. But I think she’s ashamed… or perhaps fearful to see them.”

“Who?”

“His parents.”

“Oh.”

They walked in silence for a few more moments, neither willing to delve too deeply into the subject. It was Lola who spoke first, both out of practical reasons and out of a desire to steer the conversation to less murky waters.

“What now? I saw you’ve been busy these last few days.”

Elia huffed.

“’Busy’ doesn’t do it justice. Those mercenaries ran before it was over, though it’s not like I can blame them. I’m still trying to get some of the coin back. And all those bodies… I’ve had everyone who’s up for it pick the corpses clean of armor and weapons, before burning them. Even more, quite a lot of the bodies are either completely melted or dissolved. We’ve found no sign of the knight, for example.”

“Oh…”

“Grisly, I know. But the families of our deceased need coin to get their lives back on tracks. From what I’ve calculated, it should be enough… I hope. That, plus the ongoing negotiation with The Barony.”

“Are they mad? They almost lost their commander.”

“They are, not at us. The Baron looked close to declaring war on Amenor. He still might. And he still had the energy to haggle with me.”

Lola paused for a second, before jerking her head towards Elia. With everything going on… she almost forgot. The Barony also wanted Helmrest to become a part of its territory. Not to mention they wanted the Helm. Now… what happened now?

“How did that end?”

A tired smile graced Elia’s face.

“Fine. It ended… better than I could have expected. Even outside the deal for the Helm, The Baron apparently saw opportunity in Helmrest. A Skill I believe. He was quite impressed with the Ember Caps and their green variant and wished for a trade. I managed to secure funds for developing our own alchemical workshops. No need to just hand over the raw material, when we could charge them for refining as well.”

It always amazed Lola just how entrepreneurial Elia could be, eve at the worst of times. The woman herself frowned though, as if just remembering an upsetting fact.

“Though… that nymph mentioned that with the magic in the forest gone, the mushrooms will reproduce much slower. Which is still fast, but… well. It’s be a source of both income and Levels for Helmrest, if not the financial miracle I desired.”

“Just like that? We got to keep our independence because of… mushrooms?”

Suddenly, her first days of meeting Jack and seeing the wild man screaming for mushrooms seemed prophetic.

“No, gods no.” Elia laughed. “No, the ‘mushrooms’ just secured a trade route for us. Which, make no mistake, is incredibly lucrative. Not to mention that we will receive their help in setting up both a Merchant’s Guild and an Adventurer’s Guild. He said having a developed trading partner is good for business. Personally, I think he’s just trying to sweeten the deal for a future union proposal. But no, our ‘independence’… I don’t think that was ever in question. Not after the battle.”

Lola nodded, though one thing still remained unclarified.

“And the Helm?”

Elia winced.

“Will not be staying with us. I tried, but… it would have been in bad faith for us to haggle over that too. Brom was part of those negotiations. We did get something… but I haven’t talked with Brom about what is alright to share and what not.”

“That’s fair. To be honest… I’m too tired to even think about this. It sounds selfish, but I’m glad you’re here to take care of it. At least now you’ve got a Class to help with that.”

“Yeah.” Elia smiled, though it wasn’t the happiest smile ever.

A Class represented you. Sometimes even defined you. And her Class… she remembered the voice in her head.

|Class Accepted: Martial Mayor|

|Class Level: 6|

|New Skills:|

|Inspire Courage|

|Far Order|

What a Class. It told Elia of two things she already intuited. One was that Helmrest was already seen as a town. The Baron viewing it as such certainly propped up this view. The other was that Helmrest was developing a reputation for violence. Whether it was fighting off monsters or attacking armies…           Much could be said about the advantages of a war industry and yet Elia was still not convinced that was the way to go forward. Even so… |Martial Mayor|.

That, alongside being a Level 20 |Herbalist| and a Level 9 |Potioner|. She wondered how would her Classes integrate. If they ever did.

“Elia, I also wanted to talk to you about my Classes.” Lola said, snapping her out of her thoughts.

“Oh? Oh course, Lola.”

“Well, I’m a Level 5 |Herbalist| now. But also a |Harlot|. Level 9. Do you… do you know of any way those two would ever mix?”

“I researched it, back before.” Elia said, sighing. “Not many ways, I have to be honest. Not unless you aim for a Class aimed at developing materials which aim to aid in… lovemaking, I guess you could put it. But I don’t think there’s much of a need for that here.”

It was true. Helmrest lacked for… voyeuristic needs. Though, as tired as Elia was, she missed one glaring error in her logic.

“True. But, now that we have a trading route with The Barony, perhaps there’s a better chance? I understand their citizens tend to be more… libertine.”

Elia’s eyes widened and she let out a laugh.

“You know, Lola, I think you might just be right. I’ll see what I can do to help you with that.”

“Thank you, Elia!” Lola beamed.

“No thanks needed. Gods know, with all that happened and with what’s going to happen tonight, we could all use a little bit of hope.”

So, so true. That was how the two women started their day.

With hope. With planning.

And in another part of the town, two men were planning as well.

“So few of us left.” Maleh said, watching his soldiers saddle up for the road.

“True. Yet, not to sound cold, but what we lost in numbers we made up in Levels.”

The commander watched the mage harshly, but couldn’t condemn the man. Nadun was less ‘feely’ as himself, but the mage was not heartless. He knew that if his friend acted a little colder than usual, it was because of what he had been through.

“Yes, well. We didn’t all Level that much |Mage Sergeant|.” Maleh said, just the tiniest bit jealous.

It was true Maleh spend most of the fight knocked out, but he still felt he had deserved more than a single level. Yet, he wasn’t angry with his friends. Nadun had fought and bled for his Class integration. Sure, it sounded quite boring. No longer a |Mage| and a |Sergeant|, now a |Mage Sergeant|. Well, Maleh was happy for him. Mostly.

“Any more news from our liege?” Nadun asked.

“No. Only that we are to return in haste. Nothing more.”

“Hmm. I believe our liege’s royal mages fear telling us more via communication Spells. Amenor is now our enemy… and they have proven to have powerful magic users for allies. Perhaps that is also why our return should be so quick. So that there’s less risk for interference.”

“Perhaps.”

“You’re think about them. About him.”

Maleh turned to him, peeved, but couldn’t deny it.

“That was a young man, barely past the age of a boy, who led an entire group of soldiers against an advancing army twenty times its size. And won. Of course, I’m thinking about him.”

“Perhaps we’ll meet him again.”

“Perhaps. Or perhaps we should have taken a little time to try and convince him to come with us. All of them, really. The Barony needs fine commanders and Jack has finer instincts than most.”

Nadun nodded, not interrupting. Only after Maleh was finished did he speak.

“Yet he is now a |Jack|.”

“That’s the point! He’s given so much and he was rewarded by that damned Class! All because of that pointy eared freak.”

“True.” Nadun said, staying calm. “Fate has chosen to spite him. Yet, they love him here. If there is ever a place where they would not judge him as harshly… it is here.”

Maleh said nothing. He knew Naun was right. He just didn’t like the situation at all. So he brooded.

“At the very least, we could have stayed for tonight. We owed it to the kid.”

“We did. Yet we have our orders. They’ll understand.”

Seeing as how Maleh was growing more and more sullen, Nadun tried to cheer him up.

“At least you have a few days, until we reach the capital, for you to play with your new toy.”

“It’s not a toy.” Though Mleh involuntarily smiled, as his fingers reached for the enchanted coffer holding the Helm.

“No. Which is why you’ve been trying it on to every time you get a chance. Changing to silver and gold.”

“Oh, come off it. You don’t want to see what’s it like to change your entire body to gold? Like magic?”

I would chance it to a far more interesting material. Like Whisperwater. Or Shockquartz.”

“Pff. That’s boring.”

“For an uneducated sword swinger, I can believe that.”

“I’m a long-distance commander and you know that.”

“Which is why you got knocked out by a pointy flag, yes.”

That was how the two left Helmrest. Bickering. Like friends. Like men who needed foolish reprieve, after witnessing what they did, both in terms of war and what came after. The Helm was on its way out of Helmrest and towards The Barony, where it would be treasured like… well, a treasure. Thought now a human treasure. A dwarven one.

And the dwarf in question was currently perusing goods in a shop, looking at different potions, oftentimes uncorking one to take a sniff of its insides. A ratling was on his trail, often melding with the shadows, easy to miss.

They were talking, though if one didn’t look closely enough, it looked as of the dwarf talked to himself.

“I find it honorary. A tribute to his memory. It… fits. Assuming I can find the right one.”

“Mrk not gets. Moran was practical. This seems wasteful. But Mrk thinks Moran would appreciate gesture.”

The dwarf nodded and kept checking items.

“Think he comes? Think she comes?” Mrk asked.

“It is Moran’s funeral. If Jack doesn’t come, I will drag him here myself. As for Ava… she is grieving. It is her choice, but… I hope she comes.”

“Mrk too.”

It took a few more minutes, since Brom was thorough, but the dwarf finally found what he had searched for. After purchasing it, forcefully, since the shop owner didn’t want to accept coins from Brom, they left, wandering the streets of Helmrest.

“Brom mad because Helm of Vatrir not go to dwarfs?”

“No.”

“Brom mad because Helm not stay in Helmrest?”

“No.” the dwarf sighed.

“Hmm. Brom mad because-“

“If I tell you what the accord we reached regarding the Helm, will you promise not to tell anyone before I discuss it with Elia?”

“Will not telling hurt Jack?” the ratling asked, eyes gleaming.

“Of course not.” The dwarf grunted.

“Then Mrk no says. Mrk great secret keeper.” He grinned.

“So I’ve seen.” Brom said, lessening Mrks grin. “Very well. As the |Deep Speaker| allowed me to negotiate for the Helm of Vatrir, I did. I have spoken with The Baron, alongside Elia.”

“What Baron like?”

The dwarf hesitated before answering.

“Cheerful. Friendly. But sharp and dangerous. A great ally and a monstrous enemy. That is what I felt.”

“Mrk sees.” The ratling nodded.

“His troops helped us against Ameron. And the Helm was discovered in his territory. It would have been lacking in honor to negotiate towards keeping the helm. I therefore negotiated towards obtaining the most amounts of good in exchange for it.”

“Brom smart. Mrk done same. What Brom got?”

“As the artifact is a dwarven creation, I obtained a right of inspection from my dwarfhold. A… check of its enchantments and materials. So that my kin’s artificers might learn from the past. The Barony already had a trade route with the dwarfhold. Perhaps, this way their ties will strengthen.”

“Mrk sees. And this way, Brom ties with dwarfhold strengthen too.” The ratling said.

“I’d though you’d see it this way.” He laughed. “But no. It will earn me some goodwill, but mostly with the Forgeborn. This, I have done with Helmrest. Because the price for this inspection was a trade route being opened with our village. Er… town. Seeing as how Elia has already secured one with The Barony, I thought it wise to finalize the triangle of connections.”

The ratling whistle, though from his, it sounded something like a wheeze. His broken teeth had not been completely fixed.

“And that is not all.” The dwarf said, almost proudly. “I also obtained coin. Quite a hefty sum. But… this I saw what those mercenaries did. They fought yes, but at the end they ran. Perhaps I should not judge them, but I do not believe coin so easily translates into protection. Not this way.”

“Brom can judge. Mrk judges. Mrk thinks mercenaries not run before because Mrk cut legs of ran.”

“My thoughts exactly. So… I exchanged that vast sum of coins for an artifact.”

“One artifact?” Mrk asked unbelievingly.

“Yes. It should arrive withing the week. Tell me, Mrk, do you remember the spectral knight we have fought?”

The ratlings eyes widened.

“Brom got that? How?”

“Apparently, after a closer inspection of their dungeon, The Baron’s experts found that the spectral knight was not an enchantment on the dungeon itself, but a separate artifact. Almost like a summoning stone. It will be placed in the city hall and called into being when Helmrest is in need of defense. …or heavy labor, if I read Elia’s intentions correctly.”

“Huh. Mrk thinks this good. I remembers monster attack. Not want fight monsters again.”

“I can understand that.” Brom smiled.

“Good Brom. Did good deal.”

The dwarf hesitated, but spoke again.

“I also obtained a third item, from both The Barony and my former dwarfhold. A promise of inquiry. If they are to find any information pertaining to the |Jack of All Trades| Class, specifically how one may be rid of it. It if a long hope, but… perhaps.”

Mrk nodded.

“Jack better come tonight. Mrk not thinks he miss, but…”

“He will. I am sure of it, even in his grief. I only wander of Ava… would you truly have killed her? If she had shot Jack?”

“…Mrk not know. I hopes not. But… Mrk not know.”

“It takes courage, Mrk, to defend a friend. Much more courage, when defending a friend against another friend. Have no shame of yourself. And when you are ready, I believe we will all welcome your story.”

The ratling missed a step at hearing that and stayed eerily silent for some time after it. But, moments past, two words escaped him, silent enough that only the dwarf walking next to him heard them.

“Thank you.”

It was a day of action, but also sadness. Perhaps that is why a lot of people tended to band together. Eat together, walk together, shop together. Just to ensure that there was someone around. Someone they could rely on. A lot of people did that.

But not all.

On an unimportant street in Helmrest, a satyr walked alone. Her friends tried to support her the days before, but she couldn’t hear them. Not that they were in a much better state themselves. So she slept in the Refuge and ate in the Refuge, but spend most of her time wandering. Knowing where she should go, seeing her steps take her there, but… refusing to actually arrive at her destination. Two days she spent like that. Of feeling pain and sorrow. The only one who seemed to understand her was Jack, caught in his own web of pain.

“Only he thinks it’s somehow his fault. Idiot.”

She said that, but she still felt closest to him that she felt to anyone in their little group. He tried so hard, for all of them, only to be rewarded with a Class even worse than what she had.

“And I threatened to shoot him.”

She knew she had been an idiot. She apologized profusely to him, not that he thought any apology was necessary. It was stupid, but she was desperate. She thought… she thought Jack might make a miracle. But he was just a man. His only ‘gift’ was looking out for them. The put so much pressure on them.

And the elf cracked him.

“It should have been me. I was supposed to be the |Avenger|.”

She heard what happened, after she woke up. How the elf tricked Jack. Made him gain a new Class. One to much. Ava though that should she have been awake, it would have been her who would have gotten that Class. Instead, as always, they left their burdens on Jack’s shoulders.

That was how the Satyr moved through Helmrest.

Grieving and guilty.

In pain. Scared of what she was about to do. But determined.

“I owe Moran at least that.”

And so she walked, her feet carrying her to a place she knew, but never visited. She didn’t know how she got there. She hadn’t noticed the streets pass by or the people giving her pitying or admiring looks. She only ‘woke’ when she found herself standing in front of a door. Painted green. Simple, yet homey.

A door to a house, that spoke to her of him, though it had no reason to.

Raising her hand, she steeled it from trembling and knocked.

Once, twice.

A man answered the door, words of greeting dying in his mouth as he saw her. A woman called for him and hearing no answer, came to stand by his side, as frozen as her husband.

“Mr. and Mrs. Bratle, I am Ava Sharphorn. I am… was your son’s girlfriend.”

All of that happened in a city that seemed, at least for a few days, the center of action for an entire region. Perhaps a continent. People recuperating, grieving… talking. Trying to do the best they could to move on and get better.

But for some, there was no getting better.

A young man stood on a tree stump, inside a clearing. A young man who was owner and master of both clearing and forest. Guardian of his Refuge.

A |Jack| in all, including name.

“|A Fire a Day|.” he said, though he knew it was pointless.

He had tried it the day before and the day before it. He still had the Skill, he could feel it. It just… didn’t take.

“|Resource Vision|. Grass.”

He saw the grass around him. But it didn’t jump out at him. Not like it should have.

“|Past Trails|. |Mental Compass|.”

Nothing.

“|Sense Allies|… Ensnaring Vines.”

Vines hot out of the ground, grasping and finding no purchase, though he sensed no one, near or far. Even when he knew who stood behind him.

Not sure that I’d still call her an ally, though.

“You see, Jack? Magic still graces you, for all-“

“Shut up.”

There were times when he would have been terrified of talking to her like that. Those times had long gone past. Jack had spent his last two days testing, trying and thinking. All to see what his new… Class afforded him.

The answer was a bleak one.

He was a Level 31 |Jack of All Trades|. |Jack| for short. The highest-level owner of this Class in recent memory, according to Elia. Melena confirmed it to and nymphs had long memories. Apparently, that was because Class Integration works by combining all Levels, of all Classes, into one. Not by a perfect addition, but the resulting Level was always higher than the one of the highest Class the owner had before.

Jack had such a high-level because he had quite a lot of Classes and a few of them moderately high-level. That just goes to show how much of an idiot he was. Squandering away all this… all his effort. And his gift. The same process which gave others specialized Classed, made him a |Jack|.

Though to be honest, it wasn’t entirely his fault. Not even mostly his fault, but Jack was feeling too angry at himself to care.

“That thing Etruriel did. That question at the end. No matter what I would have chosen… nemesis or avenger, he would have still given me a Class, right?”

“Not ‘give’… That is not his power. Instead, the elf had tricked you into choosing a path of adversity towards him, one that he recognized and accepted in front of the world. That… was enough for such a Class to be imparted on to you.”

“You mean forced. Did Rosa know this would happen?”

She had shown him the future. Jack felt she should have known what would happen.

…he should have known too. It was in the same day that he had witnessed Merial possessing the same Class.

“My elder knew of it… but did not recognize the trick in time. For that she apologized.”

There was a hint of steel in Melena’s voice at the end. As if to say her elder has done enough. Or that Jack treated her too harshly.

He didn’t think so.

After it happened, Jack asked the dryad to tell him how he could lose the Class. How he could do anything about it. She refused. Said that she knows little of that and that she deems the information too dangerous for Jack to know.

As if she’s the one to decide.

Even then… even then Jack tried to be civil. Asked her to help Moran. She was a Dryad. A creature of might and nature. Of life! She had to be able to do something. Her answer was that she would not interfere with the natural order. Not that she could not. Would not. Jack had learned to be careful of what was said and how it was said. He felt like breaking then. So much lost… for nothing.

He would have asked her to stay. To help. To do anything. At leas to allow Melena to stay behind and act as the forest’s guardian again. She refused before he could even ask, stating that the elves had returned in force and they she must muster their full force.

She graciously allowed the Tree Elementals to remain behind and act as defenders, all of them tied to Jack’s will. Oh, and she would allow Melena to stay for a few days, to explain things. Like a good little nymph. That was when he snapped. He started screaming at her, started calling her names. He would have attacked her, if Melena had not interposed herself.

Rosa just took it all, face solemn. Once he had no more air in his lungs, Rosa simply said that he has a greater role in this than he could ever imagine. And that she was sorry.

Without another word she dispersed, leaves trailing in the wind.

Bitch.

As if sensing his thought, Melena spoke.

“You are being unfair with my elder, Jack. There is more at stake here than you imagine.”

“I don’t care, Melena. No one here does. Your war… your stakes. That’s between you and the elves. Innocent people died and because of Amenor, we’re probably still not out of this entire mess. Rosa and the Etruriel, nymphs and elves, this has nothing to do with us. Helmrest shouldn’t have been involved.”

“We are all-“

“We are not all involved because of nature!” Jack snapped. “And damn your nature! You have forgotten how other races live, if you think everyone should take up your cause, just because you deem it just. You have forgotten that other races and peoples have lives of their own. If you ever knew it in the first place.”

Melena looked taken aback. Almost sorrowful ay hearing Jack speak.

He turned his gaze away. Jack wanted nothing to do with her feeling disappointed.

She had no right.

“Rosa said there’s a war coming. If you’re at war, why didn’t she kill the elf?” he asked, trying to move the conversation.

“We are at war… yet just recently we discovered who we are at war with. And yes, Rosa by herself could best an elf. Even one such as he. But a group of elves? No… they were equal at us at the dawn of their race. Now, they eclipse even our elders.”

“Right. So she didn’t kill him because she fears him.”

“My elder chose to let him leave because she still desires a peaceful resolution.” Melena stressed.

“I saw how the elves do peace. They started a way just to cover up their real need. A cover which they discarded when it stopped being useful. What’s to stop him from razing Helmrest at the next possible opportunity?”

“The guardians of the forest-“

“Are no match if more than one of them comes. Then what?”

“The will not-“

“How do you know?” Jack shouted.

“Because you are beneath them!” Melena shouted back, before composing herself.

She looked ashamed, yet tired. Like Jack himself.

“This entire war, Jack… this was a game to them. A clever way of getting what they wanted. That’s how they’ve always been. Clever. Careless. And arrogant. They will stop at nothing to hurt us, but you… they don’t even see you.”

She sounded like she despised herself for even saying that, for thinking as they did, if just for a moment.

“More than that, we know now who it is we are up against. The elfs will have their hands occupied, I can promise you that. They may be mighty, but we are not without might ourselves.”

“But, let me guess, you can’t tell how you’ll keep them busy.”

Melena opened her mouth, but Jack beat her to it.

“Don’t bother. I know the answer. Just… look. I’m tired. And angry. So what I say now and what I said… it’s probably coming across harsher than it should. Harsher than you deserve. I’m sorry for that. But, please, at least tell me this.”

He looked into the nymph’s eyes. Adversary, friend and now… what?

“This great war for the fate of… nature itself? Or is it magic? If you fight it while trampling over the rest of us, if it really worth fighting after all?”

Melena seemed to have no answer for that question. She only looked at him sadly, before speaking.

“I’m sorry, Jack. If you do not believe anything else, believe this. I am so very sorry.”

“Doesn’t matter.” Jack sighed. “Will I ever see you again?”

“I do not know. Lat time we parted, I though I would never again see you. And yet we speak. Who knows what the future hold?”

“Rosa.” Jack answered, deadpan.

That got a small laugh out of the nymph.

“I do not know if I shall see you again, Jack. But I hope so. Forests shelter you.”

She melted into the grass after that, like before. Jack knew she was probably going to her gate, to return to the glade. He was glad for it really. For what lay ahead of him… he needed to distractions. Wearily, he sat up from the tree stump and looked ahead.

Rosa’s magic or was its Melena’s? Regardless. Their magic had changed the earth itself. There was now a straight path, from the clearing to Helmrest. Devoid of trees, rocks or other obstacles. Even the earth had mostly smoothed itself, forming a sold earth road. It was clear enough, that Jack could see Helmrest’s ‘wall’, even from here.

With a deep breath, he looked at the fading sun and started to move.

***

It was past sundown, when the majority of the villagers… no, not villagers. Citizens. It was late when they mostly all gathered outside the village. They had burned the victims of the war before, great pyres giving out smoke night and day. Every victim, bur for one.

For him, they waited. For Helmrest’s hero, for one of their adventurers. For him they wanted until he was the last, out of respect for him and out of respect for those who mourned him. And they were all there. Almost.

Elia stood on a small wooden podium, looking out at the crowd. She saw Ava, standing with Moran’s parents, hugging her mother tightly, his father with tears streaming down his face. She saw Brom standing solemnly near the pyre, Mrk nowhere in sight, though knowing that the ratling was never far from his friends. She saw what was left of the short-lived Village Watch, just ten of them remaining.

She saw everyone. Except one. Him she saw coming, only after everyone else had already gathered. She feared he would not come. That the pain and hurt he had taken upon himself had finally broken him. She talked to him, at first, trying to make him understand that it was not his fault. That the weight of the world did not have to sit upon his shoulders. She feared he didn’t understand.

Perhaps he still didn’t.

And still he came. Head bowed, face grim. But walking forwards. He came to stand next to Brom, Mrk appearing into view, while Ava broke of Moran’s parents and came to stand near them as well. Jack looked at the fire, for a long few seconds, before turning his eyes to her.

That was her cue.

“Citizens of Helmrest. Citizens. You carry this title and call yourself ‘of Helmrest’ and not ‘of Amenor’. All because of those who have fallen for us. For our protection and independence. Helmrest’s sons and daughters. Heroes.”

And still they died. We suffered and died like ants before giants.

“Moran Bratle was one of our own. Our heroes. He was a |Paramedic|, a Class not often found in this day and age, one that spoke of the man and of his heart. It is a healer’s Class, yes, but it is also the Class of one who wades into battle. One who steps forward on to the battlefield and one who goes to the wounded, not waits for the wounded to reach him. That was who Moran was. That was his will. And that is how we’ll remember him by.”

I’d rather not remember him. I’d rather see him and talk to him. Watch him get embarrassed by Ava.

“Know this. We have lived through dark times. And through dark times we may yet still live. But as long as we stand together, we will not break!”

…no. You will not. Not if I can help it.

“Heroes of Helmrest. Friends of Moran. Light the pyre.”

Jack stepped forward alongside his friends, all holding a lit torch. As one, they set them down and stepped back, watching the pyre upon which Moran rested catch fire. It went from sparks to a towering flame in seconds.

He looked around himself, at them. He saw Ava, grim and broken, yet still she held on to his arm. Brom looked stoic as always, but his shoulders were hunched, as if a mountain weighed down on him. Mrk was half hidden by shadows, the ratling ever more scared and retreating into his own safety.

What would he do now? How could he protect them?

What if they were next?

No.

Jack made a decision, then and there. He could let himself be broken. He could let himself be a |Jack|. Or he could rise up. He might have given up before. Had still been on the verge too. But no. Never again. He had something to protect. Those who he called family.

So what if his Class itself was against him and that grand magical wars loomed in the future?

I’ll rise again. I swore to improve and I’m not stopping now. I’ll find a way to stop being a |Jack|. Whether by others or magic or whatever, I will! I will protect my friends! I will make sure bastard powers like Amenor and the elfs are no longer a threat! And I will never stop growing!

Because I’m not a fucking |Jack|. I’m Jack!

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