Mark of the Fool
Chapter 586: The Nature of Bravery

There were a lot of things that Alex wasn’t shocked by anymore since he’d come to the university of Generasi.

Monsters? He’d started growing numb to them from his early experiences in the Art of the Wizard in combat and day to day life in Generasi. Mind-bending magic? Simply being around Baelin ensured that it became fairly normal, though he still marvelled at what the heights of true wizardly power could do. Even blood and death didn’t paralyse him with fear like they once might have; he’d lived through enough to understand that they were part of living in a dangerous world.

But what had just shocked him was hearing Tyris Goldtooth say the words, “how much spine she’s gotten lately” in a sentence referring to, Carey London.”

“Carey? Did you say Carey London? Really?” Alex whispered, cocking his head. “I mean, she’s determined, yeah, and brave…not like how a warrior’s brave, of course, but in her own way. I can’t see her grabbing something sharp and sticking monsters with it, or throwing fireballs around. So, what’s changed, what’s she been up to lately?”

“Well, here’s the thing: she has been throwing fireballs around,” Tyris said, in the pride–filled voice of a mother talking about her accomplished daughter. “I don’t know when she learned the spells, but she’s using combat magic.”

“Really?” Alex was having a hard time processing the news. “Carey London’s…a battlemage?”

“Oh gods, no,” Tyris giggled. “Definitely not that extreme. She’s lacking a certain…” She licked her upper lip. “Bloodthirstiness that people like you, me, your girlfriend, and Redfletcher have.”

“What? Bloodthirsty? Me?” Alex scoffed. “I am not bloodthirsty!”

“Father…I think that what Tyris is saying is not blood thirst literally. She is not saying that you are thirsting for blood like a vampire. She means that you are…eager to shed blood. And by shed blood…I don’t mean literally…I mean…”

“Yeah, yeah, I get it,” Alex grumbled. “Still doesn’t match me.”

“You…say you are a vengeance enthusiast…you take delight in killing enemies. You seek combat…”

“Not for the hell of it.”

“Father…you kill when you need to. You celebrate your kills…and then you congratulate me on my kills…”

“Yeah not going to lie, that does sounds preeeetty bloodthirsty to me,” Tyris chuckled. “You trained your body to get yourself looking like a berserker didn’t you? Face it, you’re basically a monster butcher. Hold your head high! Embrace it!”

Alex rolled his eyes. “Look, there’s nuance here that I suspect you’re both purposefully ignoring to make it look like I’m the sort of person who likes to chop up people in a secret lab, but we’re not talking about me, we’re talking about Carey!”

“Fine, fine, I’ll stop teasing you, don’t have a heart attack.” Tyris rolled her eyes. “But right, Carey’s not bloodthirsty. She doesn’t really go looking for fights, but she’s started preparing for them. No more hesitating when we find monsters, she’s still got some fear—from the look in her eye—but she’s started hitting back and even hitting first.”

“Wow, good for her,” Alex said.

“I wonder if her new boyfriend’s influencing her.” Tyris tapped her chin playfully.

“Wait, new boyfriend? What new boyfriend?” Alex asked, imagining Derek returning to Carey’s life like some massive disease.

“A certain Saint of Uldar.”

The Thameish wizard fought the urge to flinch. “Oh really…are you serious?” He kept his tone neutral.

“No!” Tyris cackled. “But I’m surprised you didn’t have a stronger reaction! I thought you’d be shocked.”

“Well, if Carey wants to get together with Merzhin, then that’s her choice.” Alex shrugged.

“Boo. You’re no fun.” Tyris crossed her arms. “Anyway, I’m just messing with you. It doesn’t look like they’re anything more than friends…no spark, you know? But they’re getting to be…something like friends. They talk a lot, just about every night when we’re sitting around the campfire. It’s good: those two are lonely.”

“Yeah…” Alex said slowly. “Well, not everyone’s lucky enough to have good friends and companions. I know I definitely am.”

“Me too.” Tyris patted Vesuvius’ shell. “And you’re right. Well, hopefully they'll make some friends. It feels…no, nevermind.”

“No, you can’t just say that and then cut yourself off. You trying to kill me? I’ll die of curiosity, so give.” Alex said.

“Well…” a troubled look crossed the lava wizard’s face. “Merzhin’s pretty much what you’d expect from a super-priest: ultra fanatical, driven and honestly a bit much. He’s like…if we made school our only purpose in life, you know? No drinking, no feasting, no family, no friends, no making love, no hobbies, no dreams…just one purpose. It’s unnatural: even animals live for more than one thing.”

“It…is true…my purpose is…to protect my father…” Claygon said. “He made me…that way…but there is more that I want to do. More I will do…”

“Well, then you might be more human than Merzhin, and he might be more golem than you,” Tyris said. “You gotta wonder what makes someone become like that. Eh, I guess the world’s full of all kinds. But I tell you, there’s a good reason I talk about Carey being worth more than all the ones cringing and cowering here.”

She gave Alex a serious look. “Listen, she learned battle magic to contribute, she pushes hard to help your country, and—when we get back after an expedition—she’s already in the lab while the rest of us are relaxing. She’s almost got as much energy as I do and…look, sometimes I get the feeling that there’s nothing that girl won’t do, you know?”

“I kinda…get what you’re talking about. She’s pretty intent on doing whatever she can for Thameland,” Alex said. “And to be honest, I’m willing to do a lot for it too.”

“Yeah, but she’s changed. I’ve met people that say ‘I’ll do anything’ for whatever,” Tyris said, her voice uncharacteristically grim. “I’m sure a lot of the ones here said something like, ‘I’ll do anything to win the grand prize’. But as soon as they see either of us coming, they start cowering. I’ve had friends say they’ll do anything to stay in school, then they flunk out because that ‘anything’ meant ‘the bare minimum’. I’ve had boyfriends tell me they’ll ‘do anything’ for me, until it comes time to prove that they’ll do anything for me. So, let’s just say I learned along the way that people ‘say anything’ a lot easier than they ‘do anything’. But, Carey?”

She shook her head. “I think she’s the real deal. That girl will do anything to get rid of this Ravener…I’m just hoping she gets more life for herself when this is all done.”

Alex paused, considering Hannah for a moment. “You know…some people just choose to live their lives for one thing. Could be a quest, a family, a goal, or whatever. Some people dedicate their whole lives to something, and that’s fine, unless the goal is ‘be the biggest piece of shit imaginable’.” He laughed.

He remembered a conversation he’d had with Thundar a while back. “You know, a friend of mine was talking about how—in his culture—a good death in battle, protecting kin and kith, is something to be proud of. Now, let me just say this upfront, I want death to come for me about a thousand years from now—if ever—when I’m a very comfortable, ancient wizard. But, I dunno, if someone’s got what they believe is the right cause, then living their whole life for it is kinda noble. It wouldn’t be the way I’d do things, but I’m not everybody.”

“I don’t get it,” Tyris snorted. “Fighting’s fun when you’re winning, but when you’re getting killed for it, it’s not exactly fun. Don’t get me wrong: I like to fight and I’m no snivelling coward, but fighting’s a hell of a lot more interesting to me when it involves melting a monster down with a nice big spray of magma. It’s a hobby, and I don’t really fancy the idea of meeting my end lying in the dirt somewhere with my guts hanging out of a great big hole in my side. And I don’t think Carey deserves that either, and neither does Merzhin, the poor guy. None of the Heroes do: I just hope we can get this Ravener-thing solved before any of us meet a nasty end.”

Alex smiled soberly, thinking about how Hannah’s life had been dedicated to doing that very thing. “You’re right. Thameland keeps going through all these never-ending cycles of death and destruction that does nothing but eat lives.”

The lava wizard patted her familiar’s shell. “You’re right on that one. Even though I’m starting to think it might not be such a bad thing if something kills me: I just started my first year of grad school and it feels like my professors have this goal of burying us alive in a Vesuvius-size mountain of work. Might be an easier death if some monster gets me first!”

She raised her hand. “Anyway, here we are talking about all this heartbreaking shit. Let’s get back to what we’re here for, Vesuvius and Claygon beating each other up in an awesome contest of skill and power!”

“Yeah!” Alex agreed, high-fiving Tyris. “To awesome contests of skill and power! To fights that don’t involve people lying dead on the dirty ground.” His smile faded, remembering those who’d died in the demon ambush last year.

He remembered Hannah and Kelda.

He also remembered what he was working toward: uncovering the church’s secrets, going to the Irtyshenan Empire, and finding Uldar’s realm.

One of those tasks was getting closer.

He swallowed. “You know, maybe we really should enjoy these Games while we can. Might be the last time we get to just relax. You never know.”

Tyris snorted. “Now you’re the one talking all the depressing shit.”

The fires of a burning alehouse returned to Alex’s mind. “Dark days aren’t polite enough to warn you when they’re coming.”

There was a time when Alex Roth was obsessed with teaching Claygon to juggle.

It had all started one quiet evening when he’d passed a young busker on a street corner who was balanced on a ball while juggling wooden pins for coin tossed into a bucket beside him.

At first, Alex had to get rid of strong feelings of contempt at the thought of juggling: since getting Marked, juggling had been something he’d decided never to have anything to do with. He knew why the activity felt very foolish to him, like he’d be admitting defeat to Uldar’s demands if he learned the skill.

He’d firmly stuck to his decision for a long time—despite being around jugglers at Patrizia dePaolo’s ball and other celebrations and festivals. But that was up until the very first time he’d fought alongside Guntile. The mercenary was a badass through and through, watching her juggle her explosive stones made Alex forget his prejudice against juggling.

Suddenly, he was able to see the skill in a whole new light and—soon after he got back to Generasi—he’d decided to give it a try and by using the Mark, he’d learned how to juggle three balls in less than a few hours.

Within a few days, he’d become as good as the professional jugglers at Patrizia dePaolo’s ball. But he wanted more: he wanted to do something more meaningful with his newfound skill. Maybe use it as a stress reliever while he juggled school, business, the possible betrayal of his old god, and trying to empower a new god.

And then he’d decided to teach Claygon to juggle.

“You’ll be great at it!” he’d promised, shoving some large discs into his golem’s hands. “You’ve got four arms! Four!”

“Father…I am no…master of dexterity…” The golem had looked at the discs reluctantly. “Don’t…bother wasting…your time!”

“Nonsense, buddy!” Alex had chuckled, now completely obsessed with a four-armed Claygon that could juggle. “Juggling is not only about dexterity. There’s some coordination, sure, but it’s more about practise and patience! And you have loads of both!”

“Al…alright…I will try….father…” The golem had said with very little enthusiasm.

It had taken a while—especially since Alex couldn’t dedicate too much time to teaching Claygon—but he’d eventually picked it up. He wasn’t the most skilled juggler in the world, even with four arms, but he still managed to rotate the discs from hand to hand, while tossing them in the air.

In short, that was how Claygon was able to know how to juggle his opponent in his third match.

“Father…look!” the golem said proudly, “only two…hands!”

His top pair of limbs were busily juggling a several ton iron golem as though it weighed no more than a few waterskins.

“You know, that line only sounds impressive when it’s coming from someone like you,” Alex murmured as the crowd’s roars of laughter echoed through the arena.

Claygon and Alex’s third match was off to a rousing start.

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