Book of The Dead

Chapter 11: Sleeping

Chapter 11: Sleeping

Sunrise of the fourth day since the awakening ceremony and Elsbeth Ranner woke numb and tired, the patter of rain on the slate roof of the family home a constant drum in her ears. After she lay in her bed for ten minutes, she finally sighed and pushed her blankets off, having managed to summon the energy she needed to prepare for the day.

So much had changed since the awakening. Everything had changed.

It was normal, in a way. Getting a Class and transitioning to an adult, it was a momentous shift in everyone's life, and she'd known that going into it, but even so she hadn't expected… this. She'd even gotten the Class that she'd been hoping for, she was a genuine Priestess. Somehow, she couldn't find it within herself to celebrate that fact this morning.

She brushed her hair and dressed herself before she left her room, turning left down the corridor she opened the door to find her family at the table eating breakfast. The air sat heavy in the room and silence lay beneath it like a blanket.

"Sorry I'm late," she muttered to no-one in particular and dragged a chair out to sit down.

Her mother flashed her a brief smile that faded as quick as it appeared. Her father sat in stony silence as he stared straight ahead, chewing his food with a mechanical rhythm. Elsbeth nodded to her mother in thanks for preparing the meal and raised her hands to pray before she hesitated. She'd been praying to the Goddess so long that the words of the morning prayer had come to her lips unbidden, but, she couldn't pray to her now, could she?

Her father slammed a hand down onto the table before he stood, the legs of his chair scraping over the floor in the way he'd always hated.

"Thanks for the meal," he ground out, his entire posture radiating suppressed anger.

It was so unlike the loving father that she knew. Tears welled in her eyes but Elsbeth kept her head down as the man who had raised her tidied his plate before he stomped out of the dining room, slamming the door behind him.

She nearly jumped when a hand gently touched her shoulder.

"He'll be alright in a few days," her mother said, "he just needs a little time."

The gentle tone and warm support broke the last of her defences and the tears spilled over.

"What about me?" she sobbed as her mother drew her into her arms, "it isn't any easier for me!"

Angine Ranner didn't answer her daughter, just held her close and rocked her side to side as she had for all her children when they were upset. Eventually the tears ceased and she helped wipe Elsbeth's face her hide the tracks of her weeping.

"What are you going to do today?" she asked.

Elsbeth blinked. She couldn't just keep hiding in her house, she had to go out sometime.

"I'll go and register my Class at city hall. No point waiting until the last day, better to get it over with."

Angine nodded in approval.

"That's the way. One door closing isn't the end of the world. You'll find that there are many opportunities for a bright girl such as yourself."

She smiled.

"Thanks mother."

The two women shared a hug before they parted ways, Angine to see to her chores and Elsbeth to get ready to head into town. She almost lost her nerve. Once she had her boots on and found a warm coat to keep off the rain she made it to the front door before she froze. After a moment, she screwed up her courage and shoved open the door, the grey and dreary weather greeting her the moment she did.

It was probably thanks to the rain that she managed to get from her house to the town hall without being noticed. Once she got there and pulled back her hood it was a different story. The entrance hall which stood deserted most of the year was packed, even at this early hour. Young adults, all here to register stood or sat around the room in small groups, muttering quietly to each other.

The moment she entered, all eyes turned to her and the whispers stopped for a conspicuous second, before they returned, louder than before. Her face reddened but she refused to back out now, instead she strode forward to the secretary who stood outside the mayor's office, parchment and quill in hand.

"Elsbeth Ranner, here to register my Class," she said.

"No problem, Elsbeth, take a seat. It's likely to be a little while," the woman said apologetically.

It was two hours before her name was called. For two hours she sat in one corner by herself and endured the whispers and sidelong glances of people she might have considered friends once. Twice she'd tried to start a conversation with someone nearby and twice she'd been rebuffed with a sneer.

News travels quickly in small towns.

When she heard her name, she practically flew out of her seat and into the mayor's office where she found Mayor Arryn and Clerk Barbury seated on the other side of the desk.

"Good morning, Elsbeth," the Mayor smiled. "This is all standard procedure and we'll try and hustle through it since there's still quite a few waiting. I don't know why but people always seem to wait until the fourth day. Day two you could have swung a cat out there."

"We'll ask a few questions about your awakening, then we will get you to perform the status ritual here in front of us," Mrs Barbury explained. "Then I'll use one of my skills to inspect your status and we compare the two results, then your paperwork goes away for filing. We keep one copy here and one copy goes to the record house in Dorrun."

"I understand,'' she nodded."

The whole process took fifteen minutes to complete, with Elsbeth happy to answer the simple questions that were asked. Her status sheet was inspected with care before Mrs Barbury utilised her own method to produce an identical status sheet. Inspection complete, the young priestess was all too happy to leave the reception room behind her and head back out into the rain. By now it was almost lunchtime and after a brief hesitation she decided she didn't want to go home just yet. The frosty, repressed anger of her father was still a weight on her mind that she wasn't prepared to deal with at the moment.

Instead, she turned down Leaven street, stepping carefully on the slick cobblestone road as she made her way to the Steelarm Inn. Pushing open the front door, she was greeted by a burst of warm air and the welcoming din of a lively common room. She shook off her coat before she entered, hanging the damp clothing over the back of a chair, she sat at a table close to the corner and waited to be served.

As she looked around the room, she couldn't help but notice Worthy wasn't present. Normally the jovial, chubby man would be holding court, roaring with laughter as he served tables and pulled drinks, making every guest feel welcome with a broad grin and a story of old heroics. She frowned for a moment before she brushed it off. He was probably fetching something from the cellar, or perhaps was in town making a purchase. She didn't need to overreact to him being absent the moment she entered the room.

So she sat and waited and it wasn't long until Nica, one of the serving girls, arrived at the table, returning shortly after with a bowl of steaming beef stew and a cup of mulled wine. She'd barely begun to enjoy her meal when two familiar figures slid onto chairs at her table.

"Rufus! Laurel!" she gasped around a mouthful of stew and immediately blushed at her own lack of manners.

"Hey there El," Rufus winked as he sat down.

Laurel didn't say anything as she took her seat. The tanned girl's eyes wandered about the inn as if searching for something. Not finding it, she faced Elsbeth directly.

"Tyron not around?" she asked.

Elsbeth started when she realised she hadn't thought of her friend at all since she'd entered the inn. Her eyes flicked around the common room guiltily before she replied.

"Umm, no? I haven't seen Worthy this morning either. Do you think everything's okay?"

The huntress shrugged carelessly and Rufus snorted.

"I can't believe that Tyron wouldn't land on his feet, no matter what happens. Even if his Class isn't what he wanted, he can rely on his folks to sort him out. To be honest, I'm still laughing at how embarrassed he was after the awakening. You remember the look on his face?"

"Rufus!" Elsbeth reprimanded the Swordsman. "He's your friend, remember?"

The young man pulled a face and opened his mouth to retort but Laurel cut him off before he got a word out.

"I don't believe he was given a boring class," she said.

"Believe it or not, you saw him for yourself," Rufus shrugged, a grin splitting his features. "He sure as shit didn't look happy about whatever he got."

Laurel casually reached across and cuffed the smith’s son hard across the head, which made him flinch and forced a giggle out of Elsbeth.

"You aren't listening, blockhead," Laurel said evenly, "I don’t believe his class is boring, or weak."

As he rubbed at the side of his head where he'd been struck, Rufus' face darkened.

"Why? Because of who his parents are? You think we're all carbon copies of our fathers? Or mothers? That's bullshit. Magnin and Beory are top shit, but Tyron's always been weak.

Elsbeth wanted to speak up to defend their friend, but the acid in Rufus' tone made her reluctant to speak. Only a few days ago the four of them had hung out together constantly. Since the awakening, things had changed so quickly…

For her part, Laurel just rolled her eyes before she fixed Rufus with a level stare.

"Just because you want him to be weak, doesn't mean that he is," she said simply. "He sucks with a sword, can't fight for shit and you think that's enough to make him useless? He's smart. Real fucking smart. He started teaching himself magic before he even had a class. I don't care if you feel a desperate need to pull your dick out and measure it against his constantly, but at least try to see the reality in front of your eyes. That kid ended up with some boring and useless class? I don't believe it."

"So, what, you think his class is something incredible and he didn't want to tell us because he thought we'd feel bad?" Rufus slumped in his chair sullenly, anger tightening the muscles in his neck. "That'd be right."

"Or," Laurel spelled it out for him, "it's illegal."

A silence fell over the table as the other two absorbed that thought in shock.

"No!" Elsbeth gasped.

"You seriously think so?" Rufus grinned.

"I don't know," Laurel pursed her lips, "but I think it's possible."

"But that's terrible! We have to help him!" Elsbeth cried.

"First time I ever heard a priestess wanting to help a criminal," Rufus observed acerbically before softening his words with a smile when she shot a hurt glance in his direction.

Silence blossomed once more amongst them as each considered the possibility of this news in their own way. It was several minutes before anyone spoke and it was none of the three young people. From the kitchen door, Worthy emerged looking somewhat haggard. The normally boisterous former slayer swept his eyes across the room and stilled when he noticed his nephew's friends seated in the corner. With wide strides, he made his way across the common room, dropping a muted friendly word here and there as he did so, finally arriving in front of the trio before they had noticed his approach.

"Fancy seeing you three here," he greeted them with a small smile.

Laurel, Elsbeth and Rufus jumped at the sound of his voice, jolted from their thoughts they turned to see the portly Innkeeper looming over them.

"Worthy!" Elsbeth spluttered. "I was wondering if you were home!"

Laurel and Rufus both greeted the large man with a murmured "Mr. Steelarm".

Though he may have developed a belly since retiring as a slayer, Worthy was still an imposing physical specimen whose reputation alone commanded respect. His history, as well as his jovial nature and boisterous laugh made him a favourite amongst the children of Foxbridge. The three of them had looked up to the man since they had been able to walk.

The innkeeper's face turned downcast in response to Elsbeth's words.

"Well, I suppose you wouldn't have heard. Young Tyron has gotten himself into a spot of trouble. The fool boy is recuperating in the back room, his aunt hasn't left his side all morning."

"Oh no!" Elsbeth gasped. "Is it serious?"

Rufus and Laurel exchanged glances.

"He could have died," Worthy said simply. "Since the awakening he's been beating himself up and pushing himself too hard. You four have been friends since you were wee munchkins. It'd mean a lot if you could spend some time with him when he wakes up. Try and cheer him up."

Elsbeth immediately apologised profusely for not visiting earlier and pledged that they would all spend time with him the moment he awoke, but Rufus had other priorities.

"What did he do?" Rufus interrupted the young Priestess. "To hurt himself, I mean?"

Worthy frowned but didn't see any reason not to answer.

"He overdosed on magic, pushing himself to cast spells that he shouldn't. I can only assume he got the stuff from his mother's supply somehow." He shook his head. "Not getting the class he wanted has hit the boy hard. It'll be good for him to see that he hasn't lost his friends."

"Of course he hasn't" Elsbeth said firmly and the others offered muttered agreement.

"Thanks," Worthy smiled at them, his usual bright grin dimmed to a muted glow. "I'll have the kitchens send out something extra for you kids."

Having said his piece, Worthy finished his rounds of the common room and vanished back into the kitchen, most likely to sit by his unconscious nephew once more.

"Poor Tyron," Elsbeth said, "I can't believe he'd do that to himself. He's always been so careful…"

"It's almost like he's pushing his illegal class to its limits before time runs out," Rufus leaned forward and whispered.

"Or," Elsbeth glared at him, "he's compensating for having his dreams shattered by pushing himself too hard."

"Maybe," Rufus shrugged and leaned back in his chair.

"It's almost like you want him to have an illegal class. Why? You want him to have it ripped out of him, to live as a cripple?" she demanded hotly.

"Keep your voice down," Rufus hissed. "It's not like that," he continued, "I just think we should listen to what Laurel has to say."

"And do what? I still can't believe either of you think this is real, but what are you going to do if it is? Help him escape? Or something?"

"There's a bounty on catching runaways," Laurel mused with a straight face.

Both of her hands slammed into the table before she even realised what she was doing.

"I can't believe you, either of you," Elsbeth was on the verge of tears, "I'm going home."

Her chair screeched as she rose from the table and stormed out, half the eyes of the common room on her as she did so. The moment the door slammed behind her, those eyes turned to the two youths who remained.

"Nice and lowkey," Laurel murmured.

"As if it isn't your fault," Rufus scoffed, though he took care to keep his voice low. "You really don't think you could have been a little more tactful than that?"

"It's your job to wrangle the princess, not mine," Laurel said, bored. "Though I'm not sure if trying to catch Tyron and turn him in would be a good move, if he has a banned class."

"What do you mean if?" Rufus said, "you were the one who suggested he did in the first place!"

"It's possible, not certain."

The young man pondered for a moment.

"But if he does… that bounty could help us. It's not cheap to become Slayers, every little bit could help us out."

Laurel watched the blacksmith's son with level eyes before a slow smile spread over her features.

"You do want him to have an illegal. You want to drag him back into town and watch it ripped out of him. Don't bother denying it, I can see it in your eyes."

Rufus didn't reply.

"You are such a petty bastard," she said as she rose from the table, draining the last of her cup. "I'll help you, because I think it's hilarious to see how far you'll go for a childhood grudge, but I don't think you'll get the princess on board."

"Leave her to me," Rufus said.

Laurel stretched like a cat, the lithe form of her body catching Rufus’ eye.

"Even if I'm right, the marshals will get him before we do," she said as she turned toward the door.

"The marshals are watching everyone. We only have to watch him."