Chereads / Gearsword / Chapter 8 - Playing The Hero

Chapter 8 - Playing The Hero

Damien and the others sat around a small table in the bustling café, the scent of freshly baked bread and roasted coffee filling the air. Despite the warmth of the place, there was a sense of tension hanging over the group. Ruth, the newest addition, was tearing into her meal like a wild animal. Crumbs scattered across the table, bits of food smeared across her cheeks as she devoured the plate of pastries in front of her. She didn't seem to care that people were staring.

Damien exchanged a glance with Kiyara, who gave a small shrug. "Guess she was hungrier than we thought," she murmured.

"No kidding," Tyson added, watching Ruth with wide eyes. "It's like she's never seen food before."

Ruth paused to glare at him, her crimson eyes fierce. "Shut it," she snapped, her voice muffled by a mouthful of bread. "Not all of us have had the luxury of sitting down for a nice meal lately."

Grizz leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his broad chest. "She's got a point," he said, his deep voice rumbling like distant thunder. "Life's been hard on her. You can see it."

Cass nodded, her gaze softening as she watched Ruth eat. "She's been surviving on her own for who knows how long," she said quietly. "It's a miracle she's still here at all."

Ruth didn't seem to hear them. She was focused solely on the food, her hands moving quickly as if afraid someone might take it away. The café was lively, filled with the chatter of other adventurers, but at their table, a quiet unease lingered.

Damien kept his eyes on Ruth, trying to piece together what little he knew about the girl. She was a thief, that much was clear, but what kind of life had she led before joining them?

"Do you think they'll come for us here?" Kiyara asked, breaking the silence. Her gaze flicked to the window, as if expecting to see the Harbingers lurking outside.

"They've been tracking us," Tyson said, his voice low. "And now that we have two more Tears..."

"They'll come," Damien said quietly, his voice barely audible over the café's clamor. "It's just a matter of when."

Ruth slammed her empty plate onto the table, gulped down the last of her drink, and let out a loud belch. The other patrons in the café turned to stare, but she didn't care.

Cass arched an eyebrow, crossing her arms. "Manners, young lady."

Ruth shot her a defiant look and stuck out her tongue. "Manners aren't what kept me alive this long."

Cass sighed, rolling her eyes. Damien watched Ruth with growing curiosity. She was like a coiled spring—ready to lash out at any moment, distrust written all over her face.

"You're quick-witted for a kid," Damien said with a smirk, deliberately keeping his tone casual. "Got a sharp tongue, too."

"Reminds me of myself when I was in my youth," Grizz chimed in with a laugh, shaking his head.

Damien leaned forward slightly, eyes still on Ruth. He knew she was keeping them at arm's length, and he was determined to break through that. "How old are you, anyway?"

Ruth hesitated for a moment, then muttered, "...Thirteen."

Tyson chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Ah, the teenage years. That explains a lot."

Kiyara looked at Ruth with genuine concern. "What's a thirteen-year-old girl doing in Gearsword?"

Damien nodded in agreement. "Yeah, I'd like to know that myself."

Ruth's eyes flickered with annoyance. She crossed her arms, raising an eyebrow. "So what? You want my whole life story now?"

Damien shrugged, still smirking. "Sure, why not?"

Ruth stared at him, her eyes searching his face for some sign of mockery. When she found none, she glanced around at the group. They all waited, not with judgment, but with an odd mixture of curiosity and concern. It was disarming.

"Fine," she muttered, looking away as she began to talk.

"My real name is Hana. I grew up in the city, bouncing around from one foster home to another. Never stayed in one place for too long. Most of 'em were dumps."

She paused, eyes flicking up to see if they were still listening. They were. Kiyara's expression softened, while Grizz and Tyson leaned in closer, their previous levity replaced by quiet attention.

"I learned early on that the only person I could rely on was me," she continued, her voice growing colder, more detached. "Had to get good at surviving. Stealing, sneaking around, whatever it took to get by. The city was rough, and it chewed up kids like me for breakfast." She let out a bitter laugh, a sound that carried far too much weight for a girl her age.

Damien kept his eyes on her, not interrupting, just letting her speak. This was a girl who had been through more in her thirteen years than most people would in a lifetime.

"When Gearsword came out, I saw it as... a way out, I guess." Ruth leaned back in her chair, looking out the window as if the city streets outside reminded her of another place, another life. "A world where I could use what I learned on the streets for something more than just surviving. I created Ruth, the sly Cait Sith thief, and it felt... freeing. In here, I could be more than just some orphan kid trying to make it through another day."

She paused again, her crimson eyes shifting to meet Damien's. "Getting trapped in here wasn't as much of a shock to me as it was to the others. I've been trapped my whole life, one way or another."

For a moment, silence hung in the air. Ruth's tough exterior cracked just enough for them to see the girl beneath—the one who'd been fighting all her life, not just to survive, but to find a place where she belonged.

"Well," Damien said softly, his smirk gone, replaced by a rare, earnest expression. "You're stuck with us now, whether you like it or not."

Tyson grinned. "Yeah, you're not getting rid of us that easy."

Kiyara reached out, placing a gentle hand on Ruth's arm. "You're one of us now. And we're not going anywhere."

Ruth swallowed hard, her eyes darting between them, unsure how to respond. Finally, she gave a small, reluctant nod. "Okay," she muttered, her voice barely audible. "Okay."

Ruth leaned back in her chair, her eyes narrowing with curiosity. "I've got a question, Damien. Why are you after the Tears of Daemora?"

Damien's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "Well... I... I'm not entirely sure. All I know is, if the Harbingers get their hands on them, people will get hurt."

Ruth raised an eyebrow, her tone dripping with skepticism. "So, you're playing the hero role then?"

Damien hesitated, caught off guard by her bluntness.

Kiyara jumped in, her voice firm and reassuring. "Damien's not just playing the hero. He's fighting to protect the people he cares about."

Damien nodded in agreement. "Exactly. We came from Arnenia because the Harbingers attacked us. They started this fight, not me."

Ruth's eyes flickered with surprise. "What parts of the Tears do you have?"

Damien replied, "I've got the right hand of the Goddess, and the right and left legs too."

Ruth's eyes widened in astonishment. "Whoa! That's three out of five Tears! You're almost there!"

"Yeah, and I'm guessing the remaining ones are the left hand and the breastplate?" Damien mused, picturing the full armor.

Tyson rubbed his scruffy chin, his expression thoughtful. "No wonder the Harbingers have been after us so fiercely. We've got what they need to complete their set."

"The thing is," Damien said, leaning forward, his gaze intense, "we still don't have the full picture on why the Harbingers want the Tears of Daemora. We know it's a means to an end, but what end?"

He furrowed his brow, trying to piece together the fragments of information he'd collected. Memories of the Captain's story flickered in his mind: Goddess Daemora had forged the armor to battle the Void Lords and had sealed away the Void, the source of their power. The Captain had mentioned the seals were weakening...

The realization hit him like a jolt. "They're trying to resurrect the Void Lords," Damien said, his voice steady but filled with newfound gravity.

Ruth's eyes narrowed as Damien spoke, her fingers drumming nervously on the table. She shifted uncomfortably in her seat, glancing around as if the walls might be closing in.

"What's the matter?" Kiyara asked, noticing the change in Ruth's demeanor.

Ruth shifted her gaze back to Damien, a mix of anxiety and guardedness in her eyes. "It's just… you seem to have pieced things together pretty quickly. You know a lot for someone who was just thrown into this."

Damien raised an eyebrow, sensing something amiss. "I've been trying to connect the dots. Why? Is there something you're not telling us?"

Ruth hesitated, her fingers now fidgeting with the edge of her sleeve. "Look, it's not that I know more than I'm letting on. I just… I've heard whispers."

Tyson leaned in, his curiosity piqued. "Whispers about what?"

Ruth took a deep breath, her fingers gripping her cup tightly. She glanced around the table, her face tense as if she were weighing whether or not to divulge more.

"I've been tracking you guys for a while," she admitted finally, her voice low. "At first, I was just trying to figure out if you had anything valuable. But then… I noticed something else."

Damien leaned in, intrigued. "What did you notice?"

Ruth's gaze flickered nervously. "I saw the Harbingers watching you too. They were shadowing you, just like I was. I overheard some conversations among them… stuff that didn't quite make sense until now."

Tyson frowned. "What were they saying?"

Ruth swallowed hard. "They're planning to destroy the portal to the Feywild Crossing. They think that if they can shut it down, they'll cut off a major source of magic that could counteract their plans."

Kiyara's eyes widened. "The Feywild Crossing?"

"I think it's a secret area in the game where fairies live," Ruth said, nodding. "The Harbingers believe that if they destroy the portal, they'll eliminate a powerful force that could potentially undo their plans. They want to make sure no one can use fairy magic to stop them from resurrecting the Void Lords."

Damien's mind raced. "So, if they're successful, not only would they get closer to their goal, but they'd also strip us of one of the few advantages we have."

Grizz scowled. "How do we stop them from destroying the portal?"

Ruth shrugged. "I'm not sure. But if they're this determined, they must have some kind of plan in place. We need to find out what it is before they act."

Damien shook his head, a determined look in his eyes. "No, our focus isn't just on protecting the portal. We can simplify this. Here's the plan: we destroy the Tears we already have before the Harbingers can reach the portal. They need the full set to unseal the Void, so if we eliminate what we have, their plans will be thwarted."

Kiyara's eyes sparkled with approval, a smile spreading across her face. "That's our captain."

Tyson leaned back, nodding in agreement. "I like it."

Cass raised an eyebrow. "As always, Damien, you have a plan. But how exactly are we going to find the Feywild Crossing? None of us have ever been there, right?"

Before anyone could respond, Ruth raised her hand, a wry grin tugging at her lips. "Actually, I have."

The group turned to her with a mix of surprise and curiosity. Damien's eyes widened. "You've been there?"

Ruth nodded, her expression shifting to one of seriousness. "Yeah, I've been there. It's not exactly a place you stumble upon by accident. I know the way, and I can guide us."

Grizz grunted in agreement, already gearing up for action. "Then we'd better get moving. No time to waste."

Damien and the party emerged from the café with renewed determination. Mounting their griffins, the majestic creatures shivered with excitement, eager to take flight. Ruth settled onto Damien's griffin, her small form fitting snugly against him. The air was crisp and charged with anticipation as the griffins took off, their powerful wings slicing through the sky.

As they soared over Zeras, the world below transformed into a breathtaking tapestry. The forest canopy unfurled beneath them like a verdant ocean, waves of green punctuated by the glimmer of lakes and the shimmering ribbons of rivers. The mountains stood as silent sentinels, their peaks crowned with snow that sparkled like stardust in the sun. The ley lines, faint and luminous, danced.

Ruth, her eyes sharp and focused, guided Damien with confident gestures. Her instructions were clear, and the griffins adjusted their course with practiced ease, diving into the embrace of a deep, shadowy valley nestled among towering peaks.

The portal to the Feywild Crossing came into view, hidden within a secluded alcove of the mountains. It shimmered like a mirage, framed by ancient, twisting vines and radiant, luminescent flowers. The portal's surface rippled with an iridescent glow, casting an otherworldly light that seemed to beckon them closer.

Damien directed his griffin to land in a nearby clearing, the ground quaking slightly as the griffins' talons dug into the earth. The party dismounted with a collective sense of awe and anticipation, their eyes fixed on the portal that pulsed with magical energy.

Ruth stepped forward, her face a mix of excitement and wariness. "This is it," she said, her voice carrying an edge of urgency. "The Feywild Crossing."

Damien's voice trailed off as he started to explain the plan. "Alright, so we'll go through the portal, find a fairy who—"

Without warning, a searing numbness gripped his body, freezing him in place. His tongue felt like lead, and his muscles locked up as if encased in iron. He collapsed to the ground, his eyes wide with horror. His HUD flashed ominously: Paralysis (7:59), the numbers ticking down mercilessly.

Panic surged through him as he saw Kiyara crumple in front of him, her fearful eyes locking onto his as she fell. The world around him seemed to close in, leaving only Ruth's unperturbed feet in his line of sight.

Footsteps echoed through the dimming landscape, and a chilling voice pierced through the chaos. "Good work, Ruth." The voice was cold and emotionless, instantly recognizable. The cultist from Fort Keller, clad in his white mask, emerged from the shadows.

Damien's heart pounded furiously. Betrayal stung like a blade, but there was no time to dwell on it. Ruth's voice was disturbingly calm. "Thank you, Master."

The realization hit Damien like a crushing blow: Ruth had been a double agent all along. His mind raced, desperate to break free from the paralysis that held him captive.

Ruth knelt beside him, her face a mask of calculated indifference. "Activate Profession Skill: Steal."

In an agonizing slow-motion, the Tears of Daemora—right hand, right leg, left leg—floated out of Damien's inventory, their ethereal glow flickering as they materialized into Ruth's outstretched arms. Her fingers closed around them with an almost reverent touch.

The cultist's form shimmered as he equipped the Tears, the full armor set now enveloping him. The air crackled with fiery energy, and the armor's glow seeped through the cultist's cloak, casting an eerie, pulsating light.

The masked man slipped his arm around Ruth's shoulders, and Damien's gaze locked onto theirs. Ruth's eyes, though filled with a shadow of regret, met Damien's with an unspoken apology.

"Sorry, Damien. I had to do this."

The masked man's armor, still the fiery orange of the Tears, began to glow even more intensely. The brilliant light flared, illuminating the entire valley with an otherworldly brilliance. The glow seeped through his cloak, creating an almost surreal contrast against the deepening dusk.

Damien's eyes widened in horror as the vortex of light swirled around them, the power of the full set of armor making the air shimmer and pulse with energy. The ground trembled beneath him, and the light grew blinding.

In a heartbeat, the masked man and Ruth were engulfed in a whirl of radiant flames. Damien could only watch in desperate helplessness as their forms distorted and began to fade into the brilliance. The glow swallowed them whole, leaving behind a void where their presence had been.

The blinding light surged one last time before collapsing into itself, leaving a stunned silence in its wake. The clearing was empty, the echo of the explosion fading into the night. Damien lay motionless on the ground, paralyzed and powerless, his mind racing with the crushing realization of their defeat.

As the paralysis wore off, Damien slowly pushed himself up, his limbs trembling with the effort. Kiyara, Tyson, Cass, and Grizz followed suit, their faces a mix of confusion and frustration.

Damien broke the silence, his voice heavy with disappointment. "I... I can't believe I let myself be fooled by her. Ruth... She played us."

Tyson ran a hand through his disheveled hair, sighing deeply. "So, what now? We've lost the Tears, and they have the full set. This was supposed to be a straightforward mission."

Cass, still dusting off her clothes, glared at Damien. "You were too trusting. I warned you about letting our guard down. This isn't just about losing the Tears; it's about what they can do with them now."

Kiyara, sitting with her head in her hands, looked up with a mixture of frustration and sadness. "We didn't even see it coming. Ruth seemed like one of us. And now..."

Grizz clenched his fists, clearly angry. "We should have known something was off. She was too eager to help us. And now, because of that, we're in a worse position than before."

Damien's shoulders slumped. "I thought I was doing the right thing. Trying to help her, make her feel like she belonged... I guess I was wrong."

Cass crossed her arms, her tone softening. "We all wanted to believe the best in her. But the reality is, we have to face the consequences of our actions. We lost the Tears, and now the Harbingers have what they need to free the Void Lords."

A silence settles over the group, heavy with the weight of their defeat and uncertainty.

How could I have let this happen? Damien thought. I should have seen it coming!

Tyson sighs, his expression grim. "We need to regroup and figure out our next move. We can't let this stop us. We still have a chance to stop them, even if it's not clear how right now."

Grizz looks at Damien, a spark of determination in his eyes. "We've been through worse. We can't give up now. We have to keep fighting, no matter how bleak things look."

Damien looks around at his party, their faces reflecting the same resolve. "You're right. We can't let this defeat define us. We need to find a way to stop them, even if we don't know what that looks like yet."

Kiyara nudges Damien and points to the portal. "Well, I have one idea."

Damien and his party stepped through the swirling portal, their surroundings shifting into a surreal realm of floating islands. Each island drifted gently against the backdrop of a mesmerizing, star-speckled sky. Pathways of shimmering magic and ancient stone linked the islands, swaying slightly with every gust of wind. The landscape was a blend of vibrant hues and ethereal beauty—forests of glowing, fantastical trees, rivers of sparkling light, and towering mountains that seemed to touch the heavens.

In the distance, a colossal tree rose from the largest of these floating islands, its immense, sprawling branches casting long shadows over the land. Damien's instincts pointed him towards it. "That's where we need to go," he said, determination in his voice.

The party began their precarious journey, leaping from one floating platform to another. The paths were narrow, the drop-offs dizzyingly far below. They moved with careful precision, each jump and landing calculated. The sky around them shimmered with magical ley lines, and the whole scene felt like a dream caught between reality and fantasy.

After navigating a series of jumps and narrow crossings, they finally reached the largest floating island. The giant tree dominated the landscape, its immense trunk and branches creating a natural cathedral of wood and leaves. At its base, nestled among the roots, was a lone figure—sleeping in a curled-up position. The figure was a pixie, her pale skin glowing softly in the ambient light. Her fiery orange hair was styled into pigtails, bound with leaves. Her red tube-top dress rustled gently with her breaths.

The pixie stirred and stretched, her eyes opening to reveal an iridescent glimmer. She blinked sleepily and then fixed her gaze on Damien. "Whaddya want? You humans, always barging in."

Damien was taken aback by her brusque tone. "Um… Are you a fairy?"

The pixie's expression twisted into one of offended dignity. "No! Obviously I'm not a fairy. Fairies are extinct! I'm a pixie." Her tone dripped with condescension, as if being mistaken for a fairy was the highest insult.

Damien swallowed hard, trying to regain his composure. "Oh, okay. Let me get straight to the point. My name is Damien, and these are my friends. We need your help. There are some bad people trying to use powerful artifacts called the Tears of Daemora to cause havoc in Gaea."

The pixie's disinterest was palpable. She shrugged nonchalantly. "So?"

Damien's frustration bubbled to the surface. "So, I need your help! I heard that fairies—or pixies—have incredible power, and if there's any chance it can help us stop these Harbingers, I want to take it."

The pixie studied him for a moment, her eyes narrowing with a calculating glint. "What do I get out of this?"

Damien was momentarily stunned. "Are you serious? People will die if we don't do something!"

Kiyara stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Damien's back. "Maybe this wasn't the right place to come. It's clear we're dealing with someone who has no empathy. Let's just leave."

Damien's gaze hardened as he glared at the pixie. "Seriously?"

The pixie rolled her eyes dramatically. "I hate doing this."

In an instant, her form began to glow with an intense light. The illumination enveloped her entirely, and when the light subsided, she was no longer visible. Instead, a magnificent sword hovered in front of Damien. The blade was an intricate masterpiece—purple at the edges, transitioning to a deep black near the hilt, with veins of yellow, black, and red pulsating through it like veins of living energy. The blade was jagged, stretching beyond the hilt, meeting the curved handle in a design that spoke of ancient power.

Damien reached out, gripping the handle of the Faerie Blade. The weapon felt heavy but balanced perfectly in his hands. A notification flashed across his HUD:

Legendary Weapon Acquired: Faerie Blade

The party members gathered around, their eyes wide with awe at the stunning weapon.

Damien opened his inventory, unequipping the Steelbane Broadsword. The old sword vanished in a shimmer, replaced seamlessly by the Faerie Blade, which slotted into place with a satisfying click.

A voice echoed in Damien's mind, sending a chill down his spine. "Psst, can you hear me?"

Startled, Damien mentally replied, "Pixie? Is that you? Are you speaking to me through my mind?"

"It's Geneva," the voice responded with a hint of irritation. "And yes, that's exactly what I'm doing. I am your blade. The more in sync our spirits are, the better we'll fight. So, try to get used to this, okay?"

Damien couldn't help but grin. "Sure thing… Thank you, Geneva."

Geneva's mental scoff was almost audible. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. It's only because that lizard woman made me feel bad."

"She's a Salamander," Damien corrected with a chuckle. "Have you been living under a rock?"

"Under a tree, actually," Geneva retorted with a touch of sass.

Kiyara's voice broke through Damien's mental conversation. "Damien? Are you okay? You're just standing there, making faces…"

Damien laughed softly. "Oh, yeah, the pixie is the sword now. She's speaking to me through my mind."

Tyson smirked, clearly impressed. "Not bad."

Grizz nodded approvingly. "Nice upgrade."

Cass clapped her hands together, her expression shifting to focused determination. "Okay, so now we need to find the Harbingers. Do you know where they are, Damien?"

He remembered the Captain's words.

"The Void has been imprisoned on the Dark Continent ever since, but whispers have been growing about the seals weakening."

Damien glanced around at his friends, their faces etched with a mix of hope and determination. "They went to the Dark Continent," he said firmly. "Obviously, we're following them."

Tyson raised an eyebrow, his voice steady but tinged with anticipation. "To finish it once and for all?"

Damien's eyes narrowed, the weight of their mission settling heavily on his shoulders.

"Yes."