The Last Favor

Chapter 9

Bryce may be young but he’s smarter than they give him credit for. And perhaps, that was exactly the problem. He eavesdropped on the entire conversation and now he couldn’t get it out of his mind. Why would Sylvie, such a kind person, ask Tristan to leave after letting him stay the night?

“Why is everyone scared of you, Tristan?” he couldn’t help but ask as he carried the bells Sylvester gave them while Tristan held the buckets, “are you wanted or something? Is there a drawing of you on these weird papers?”

Tristan glanced down at him as he shook his head in exasperation.

“First that weird guy with the accent from that tavern kicks you away,” complained the kid, “and now Sylvie doesn’t want you around. Why, Tristan?”

“I’m dangerous.”

Right when Bryce was about to argue, or at least demand an explanation, he was cut off by Tristan, as unusual as it sounds, “go get threads from the peasant.”

Tristan filled all the buckets with water and put them ahead of the field. He tied a thread to each bucket and a bell to each thread as he knotted the threads to sticks at the other end of the field. Once done, Tristan briefly explained to the kid what he needs to do.

“But what do we do now, Tristan?”

“Now, my dear boy,” appeared the mage out of nowhere, “we have dinner.”

While Bryce was eating his meal with heart, Tristan was still staring at the Selgnirp. He understood that Sylvester was here to keep an eye on him but what he didn’t understand was why didn’t the prideful village’s mage take care of this problem? He was more than capable to. It seemed like the healer’s every move was constantly suspicious to Tristan.

“If the both of you need anything during your mission, anything at all, you’ll find me home. Do not hesitate to come.” Sylvester said as he left.

“Now we wait?” Bryce asked as Tristan nodded.

The hours of the night passed slowly. To Tristan, they seemed to pass faster than the previous night. Now that the mage wasn’t near, he was finally at ease.

But Bryce, however, did not enjoy the night as much. It’s barely been a few hours since the moon started shining and yet sleep was already attempting to claim his eyes. But he refused to sleep. Tristan was counting on him and he would never let him down. He had a job and he will accomplish it. Time will pass, Bryce will find a way. He learnt the hard way that counting the stars was a bad idea and he found the habit of spurting a few water droplets on his face refreshing enough.

Lost in his thoughts that were efficiently preventing him from sleeping, the kid was brought back to reality by the sound of a bell ringing as he remembered Tristan’s plan, “When the bell rings, you have to act quickly.”

So, Bryce immediately ran to the bucket attached to the ringing bell and pushed it down along with all the buckets near it one by one. As soon as the water flowed, Tristan put his hands on the ground and whispered words that sounded familiar enough to the kid and the water froze while effectively stopping the troop of Ota Trops in their place.

“Wait,” the kid realized, “as soon as the sun rises the water will melt. It only works in the dark.”

“Get the mage,” ordered Tristan.

Meanwhile the ringing of the bells was waking half the village including the peasant who asked for help in the first place.

“What's all dis racket?” asked the annoyed farmer.

“I see,” said the mage as he arrived, “you used the plants energy to fuel your magic. That’s how you were able to power enough magic to freeze an entire troop.”

“You destrahyed me crahps,” cried the peasant.

“I saved what’s left of them.”

“You also rid the entire village of these parasites,” Sylvester stated, “I will take care of these little fleas from here on out.”

“Where will you take them?” questioned Bryce.

“To the third floor.”

Bryce seemed all the more confused at this point. He wanted to know what happens in the third floor but he also knew it was off-limits which probably meant Sylvie wouldn’t answer.

“Payment.” Tristan turned to the farmer in expectation.

“Yeah, yeah, oehnderstood!” He throwed him a pouch containing 50 gold as agreed.

Tristan immediately walked away and Bryce as usual followed.

“Where to now, friend?” asked the mage.

“Out of town,” replied the hunter as he headed east.

Tristan was still holding the pouch, counting the gold when Bryce intervened:

“I’m sure it’s all there, Tristan.”

“Open your hand.” Bryce obeyed confused while Tristan dropped 15 gold in his hand.

“But, why?” was all the kid could muster.

“You were quite the help on this one.”

“But what can I do with this much money?” he wondered

“Buy a quiver.”

“Or paper,” smiled the kid.

There was something different about walking during the night. Maybe it was the whisper of silence that tickles the ear or the stillness of the world that makes you believe that time has stopped. Perhaps, it’s the cool midnight breeze holding your hair back or the way the moon looks at you with love and the way you can look back. There was something different about the night that Bryce liked.

Tristan was simply satisfied of being away from the mage and even though the latter would not put it to word, they were both aware that he too, was glad to be rid of the Lezterp. The feeling was mutual and Bryce was very much aware of it, for as tired as he was, he could still hear their conversation in the kitchen earlier that day as it played in his head over and over again.

Tristan took a look around as he kept walking but he did not enjoy the wild at night with all the predators lurking around. After all, it was the time where the devil would be up and about. But the devil was the least of his problems.

As he saw the first sunrays of the day crawling their way into the wild, he reached for a coin in his pocket and tossed. “Cursed.”

Six.

This reeked of bad news.