Breaking the News

Wilkes rolled over on the forest floor. Everything ached. Some of it in a way that was oddly pleasant, but mostly aching from the course of the right of Testero. Something fluffy tickled at his nose, so at least he wasn't sleeping alone on the ground. He went to scratch his face, but something had his arm pinned down. The ole girl had probably fallen asleep curled up right in front of him again. Instead of trying to snake his arm out he just rubbed the itching patch of skin on the grass. Shoddy work, but satisfying enough. He dozed back into a light sleep, occasionally adjusting himself with his cuddle buddy.

His half awake brain tried to reason with him, instead he just laid for a while longer. Eyes closed, deep slow breaths. He thought he heard daisy grumbling, so he went to pat her flank. Where he expected furry softness there was a different sensation. Smooth skin, the muscle beneath twitching slightly. He slowly opened his eyes. Beatrice laid with her back facing him, nude as the day she was born. He got a better look at her in quiet moment. There was an allure to her figure he couldn't deny, womanly and powerful. A few tribal markings on her bicep likely done by Rangpar. When her hair was down it actually seemed to be a bit wavy, never fully committing to being straight or curly. Absent mindedly he ran his fingers through it gently, scratching her scalp. A content sigh coming from the sleeping half orc.

She seemed to be enjoying her dream from the small chuckles he occasionally heard. The young sailor felt his face grow hot as her rump wiggled toward him. His own lack of clothing making itself apparent as he felt his manhood brush against her. He tried to slowly snake his arm back to himself, but that only caused her to roll over and face him directly. One of her legs swung over, her thigh now laying across his waist. Wilkes decidedly kept his hands to himself. Laying there, the idea of spending mornings like this for the foreseeable future, would be... nice. With the caveat of having a bed preferably. Her family would kill him if they just kept sleeping in the woods.

"Shit shit shit." The thoughts flooded in. He began to panic. An apology turned into a deflowering in the forest. Worse off he knew that the captain had probably heard from Rangpar about his apology right by now if Erik had. A chill ran down his spine in the warm morning. The only things going for him was there being roughly a mile into the forest, and most not wanting to interrupt their squabbles unless directly called upon. That would probably keep the Captain busy until noon. But Wilkes knew people would get curious, it was simply the nature of a small town. He then decided to do the riskiest thing he could in this situation.

He slowly shook Beatrice. Calling her name in a gradually louder voice. She scowled and grumbled in her sleep. Her face buried deeper into the crook of his neck. Finally he swatted her rear as hard as he could manage. The impact split through the serene air, and her eyes snapped open. She stared at him angrily.

"Wilkes, I was having a nice dream about-" She then noticed herself almost entirely wrapped around him. She slowly untangled herself from him, tugging her skirt back down. She attempted to hide her chest behind crossed arms, but that only drew his attention to the green globes of glory. He blinked rapidly, trying to reset his focus mentally and physically.

“Where’s my shirt?” He asked her, and she pointed languidly towards the edge of the clearing. It was folded neatly beside the medical bag she had brought to stitch him up during the evening. He stood slowly, grunting as the aching muscles attempted to mutiny against his demands. Lumbering steps got him to his destination, he pulled his shirt onto himself. He heard Beatrice chuckle at something. He turned to see exactly what, which was how he noticed that his pants were still at his knees. With an indignant yelp he quickly pulled them up, blushing as she continued to ogle him.

“Really Wilkes? You rut me like a mule in heat through the night and then act shy in the morning?” Beatrice called out to him. He smirked at her usual attitude returning. Sure the bashful side was endearing, but there was something better about the snark.

“Well someone hunted me half to death and then giggled like a school girl because my pants were down.” Wilkes shot back, his full grin blooming on his face. He went over to where Daisy was again gnawing on a foot of the boar he killed. Her tail wagged with a fury as he approached, slamming against the toppled beast incessantly. He stooped down and scratched behind her ears. She grumbled happily while still gnawing away. Taking any part of the boar away from her would be decidedly difficult, so he opted not to. At least he knew a new kind of treat to get for her on special occasions. Beatrice tapped on his shoulder and he nearly jumped out of his skin. Her approach had been almost entirely silent. A skill she neglected to showcase on the hunt.

“We should probably head back into town, let everyone know I didn’t drag you into the woods and murder you for insulting me. Though that sort of rumor would have it’s advantages.” Beatrice tapped her chin thoughtfully after she spoke. He laughed and shook his head at her, before whistling for Daisy to come along. The mutt snapped to attention but sent a pleading look back at the boar. He urged her onward but she planted herself and began to whine. Beatrice giggled before drawing a knife. She hacked the foot off, tossing it towards his pet. Daisy leapt fully into the air and claimed her prize, landing with an amount of grace he’d never seen from her.

“You lazy mutt, you could snag things out of the air like that the whole time?” Wilkes demanded between chuckles. He put his hands on his hips and tried his best to imitate a scolding father he’d seen in town before. His furry companion merely wagged her tail before looking up at him.

Daisy tilted her head with her mouth still full of boar foot. “Aroo?”

The young adults made it back to her home on the outskirts in relative silence. Simply enjoying the time together in the morning. After a short goodbye they both lingered for a moment, shifting slightly on their feet. Wilkes leaned in and kissed her one last time, far closer to town than he’d ever risked it before. He knew a hiking trail was nearby, but decided to savor the moment anyways. As he pulled back from her, he did his best to burn how she looked into his mind again. Her tussled hair from a rowdy night, the half lidded haze from passion, and the enduring confidence of a woman who knew she was his equal in every way that mattered now. The words fell out of his mouth before he realized it.

“Bea, when I get back from hunting the tide reapers, I want us to build a home together.”

His words hung in the air for a moment, her eyes widened at the confession. The sun shone brightly on her, she was practically glowing. He then noticed the wide eyed stare was aimed at someone behind him. He heard a deep rumbling laugh, and a thunder of footsteps. Massive arms heaved the young sailor into the air and twirled him like a baton.

“Ah friend Wilkes! You have fallen for the charm of little Beatrice! Happy day indeed, yes?” Rangpar roared as he continued to lovingly thrash Wilkes. The young sailor did his best to keep the remnants of yesterday’s meal down. The slight burning of bile proved it a losing affair, but thankfully Rangpar released him. The towering orc had a twinkle in his eyes as he rest his hands on the young sailor’s shoulders.

“Ah, you have given me good fight and now court cousin of mine! You are Rangpar prayer given answer!” He smiled ear to ear, all four of his tusks proudly jutting out of his mouth. He fixed his eyes on Beatrice, launching another question “You have told uncle Jonah yes?”

The huntress stood deathly still. She cast her eyes down and shifted on her feet. Rangpar’s grip tightened on his shoulders. Pain began to seep in as Rangpar’s breath quickened. His pecs and biceps tensed as he attempted to restrain himself. Slowly the orc repeated himself.

“Cousin. You have told Uncle Jonah your Right of Testero became a courting, yes?” Anger dripped on his words, a singular tattoo on his right pec flared blue for a moment. The orc’s hands lifted from Wilkes’s shoulders after. His brow set heavy as he approached an elm tree. It looked to be about twenty years old and strong. Rangpar punched it as his only outlet. The trunk shattered like a twig beneath the blow, his tattoos glowing that unnatural blue. The powerhouse began to curse in orcish as he continued to punch trees, Beatrice remained stunned.

After about an hour the tantrum ended, the rampaging sailor sat by her roasting pit and sat cross legged. He folded his arms tensely, seemingly restraining himself through the position. A deep scowl on his face. Wilkes wanted to ask him what the deal was, but he remembered the fate of the elm tree that simply grew too close to his anger. He elected to keep questions to himself. He slinked away as best he could, returning to town with all eyes on him again.

“Wilkes you lived!” A familiar voice called to him. Erik sat out front of the library, thumbing through a book on navigation theory. He was half reclined at a small table, a cup of tea still steaming in front of him. The blonde elf had cut his shaggy hair into a closer crop, showing the points of his ears intentionally. It seemed he was no longer insecure about them.

“Oh there you are knife ears. I was worried you only wanted to keep me from dying of heat exhaustion rather than at the hands of a huntress I insulted publicly.” Wilkes spat with a wide grin. He settled into a chair opposite his oldest friend.

“Hmm yes because both of us being put on a spit together would completely snuff the rumors of our bond being more than friendly.” He spoke drily, sipping from the tea idly as he read. He continued to thumb through it as Wilkes recounted the story of the hunt, but stopped when he mentioned fighting Rangpar by the river. The elf listened intently to the recounting of events from then on. His tea began to grow cold, but he continued to sip all the same.

“And then after I killed the boar she showed up under the moon light and said I’ve proved myself enough. Now we’re on good terms again.” Wilkes scratched at his neck with one hand. Erik noticed immediately. He narrowed his eyes and set the book down. His eyes drilled into Wilkes’s very soul.

“You two fucked.” Erik concluded curtly. Wilkes practically dove across the table to cover his mouth and hush him as people milled about. Scrambling to be sure none heard that remark he then laughed loudly.

“Oh good one Erik, man you should really tell that joke at the tavern later. I mean seriously, that was a great joke.” Wilkes forced a smile while his eyes pleaded with Erik. Daisy trot past them on the street, boar foot still in her mouth. She was headed back to the fishing hut with a small conga line of smaller dogs. Evidently she had become their queen when he wasn’t looking. The distracting display passed and he returned to staring at his fellow sailor. He removed his hand from Erik’s mouth. The elf sipped his tea again, the cup ran dry and he stood up. Wilkes followed him into the library.

“Wilkes, I’m not gonna go spilling your secrets, but I need to know a few things. Figured being here where only Amy could hear us would put you at ease.” Erik seemed tired. He placed the book of navigation back with a stack of others. Depictions of the sea, of constellations, and other things he couldn’t quite wrap his head around on the covers.

“Right, ask away then. I assume there’s little those two haven’t spoken of already.” He relaxed, but still scratched at the front of his neck somewhat nervously. Erik continued to stare directly into his soul.

“First off, are you alright? I know you’ve been through hell the past few days, but you’ve always been too stubborn to quit until you have to be sedated or restrained. Ye know ye can talk to me when things feel pointless right?” Erik spoke hesitantly, like he was trying to size Wilkes up as much as talk to him.

“I mean, all things considered I’m still moving forward with myself yea. Ma’s gone. Daisy needs someone to care for her the next time we set sail, think Bea’s up for it so that’s good. He answered as honestly as he could.

“You just dodged the question entirely.” Erik pointed out

“What you want some big grieving confession?” Wilkes became defensive before rambling briefly. His chest felt tight as he began to speak again. “I mean, yeah, I’m miserable. Caught myself talking to her like she’ll come out from behind her door and everything is fine again. But that’s just grief clouding the ole noggin. I… can’t let it stick. Gotta push past or around it y’know? Get the wind in my sails or start rowin’.”

Erik nodded solemnly then stretched his arms for a hug. Wilkes just shook his head a bit and denied the embrace. His stitches probably would’ve made it hurt. Erik deflated a bit and lowered his arms.

“Remember what I told you? The morning after the raid I mean.” Erik pressed the conversation further. “That we’re goin’ ta get them back for it. For everyone.”

“Yeah, but bud, they’re an organized group of pirates. We’re fishermen on a mercantile boat.” Wilkes pointed out, He leaned against a bookshelf now, taking the weight off his aching feet. “Not to mention the shape I’m in after all of it.”

The elf stroked his chin for a moment. Before shuffling around the pile of tomes. He pulled out a few books that seemed to be medical in nature. On the human body and Applications of mana towards bodily rejuvenation were written in golden letters on the spine. Erik shifted his weight nervously before opening his mouth to say something. He stopped himself, ran a hand through his newly shortened hair, then spoke.

“I’ve been reading up on the basics of magic. I wrote it off as mostly fairytale stuff, but then we saw Rangpar fighting and I figured there could be more truth to it than fiction after all. How familiar are you with the origin of mana?” Erik chewed his lip between sentences, thumbing through for more tomes to reference as he spoke. Divine Horticulture, the nature of nurture caught Wilkes’s eye first. Just how much had Erik been reading these past few days.

“I know what you’re thinking, that magic could be a shot in the dark for either of us. But there is precedence for awakened magical talent through practice or duress. Considering what’s happened, I admit I’ve obsessed over it. Something that could help us match the reapers in a way that’s unorthodox. Something they couldn’t possibly have dozens of plans for like typical naval raids and counter raids. Magic.” There was an unnerving frenzy in his eyes, Wilkes finally noticed the bags that sat beneath them. The jitters in his hands from the caffeinated tea were also likely a poor sign. Wilkes strode the three steps to his oldest friend.

“Erik. You need to sleep.” Wilkes said pointedly. The elf began to protest, but Wilkes hefted him over his shoulder. The human sailor took one step outside the walls of the library and his compatriot was out cold. He walked through town, Erik snoring over his shoulder, until he reached the shack belonging to the sleeping man. With all the grace he could manage, he opened the front door.

Wilkes hadn’t been inside his friend’s hut in some time. The scene within only made his frantic rambling about magic more concerning. Dozens of sheets of paper with frantically scrawled writing littered the place. His bedroom door was wide open, and from what he could tell hadn’t been used in days. There was no sign of a particular gnomish girl keeping him company either. Just manic notation on magical theories. Wilkes decided to first gently rest the elf on his bed, and then to scrounge through the notes for anything of value. Erik had always been smart as a whip.

Hours and hundreds of confusing sentences later, he arrived at a conclusion. Erik was making some decent points on the sources of magic and mana, but was hitting a wall about any sort of breakthrough in readily accessing magic quickly. The moment in the stream jumped back through his mind as he read the papers. It was time for a practical test rather than an adrenal response it seems.