“We’ve never done anything together that I’ve actually cared about!” Lavender laughed with such haughty confidence, back faced towards a cliff that dropped into a sunset, yet couldn’t dare to look her once companions in the eyes. “I simply played along to gain your trust, so you would do whatever I wanted you to!” Her companions watched on in horror, as Lavender clutched a Twisted Effigy in her hand, squeezing tightly. Despite it being a magical artifact, it lacked any actual benefits beyond looking interesting. For all purposes other than that, it was worthless at the moment.
“You don’t have to do this!” Ares shouted, trying to break out of a paralyzed state. Despite him acting as the leader of the group, he was powerless against this strange magic. He had no control over his own body, as if his muscles and tendons were frozen in place. “You need to fight it!”
“Fight what?” Lavender put on a puzzled appearance, before acting like she realised what Ares meant.
“Ohhh, I get it,” she lifted the effigy up before her face, “You think this trinket is somehow possessing me, huh? Well bad news for you buddy–” she tossed it into the air, then caught it as it fell in an inky black satchel, “This is all me! The real me!”
“That can’t be true…” Conray struggled to speak, his inhuman strength able to slightly fight against his constriction, but nowhere near enough, “What about all those memories?
The nights we’d all spend hours looking up at the stars, counting each and every one?”
“Just another piece of the plan!” Lavender giggled, hiding a lurking feeling of self-hatred. “As I said, none of that really mattered.”
“Then why haven’t you tried to kill us already?” Willow muttered, always the quiet yet introspective one. She had long since given up trying to move from her stasis.
“What do you mean?” Lavender realized what she was doing.
“You had more than enough moments where you could have left us for dead. And yet, you didn’t.”
“Simple!” Lavender scrambled internally for an excuse, “I still needed you all to help get the Twisted Effigy.”
“Then why are we still alive now?” Willow kept prying, seeing beyond Lavender’s poorly veiled act.
“Well obviously I need to have my villainous monologue about how I tricked you, and how foolish you all are for ever trusting me.” She kept smiling, but it flickered for a moment.
If they kept prying like this, she might actually want to apologize and back down. But she could never do that. Her father didn’t raise a quitter. No, he raised a liar and a cheat.
Caught in her internal monologue, Lavender failed to notice Conray regaining control of his own body. In a swift movement, a fist collided with Lavender’s gut, rocketing her closer to the cliffside. The satchel fell from her hand onto the grass before Conray, who took it and threw it to Ares and Willow, who regained control as Lavender lost focus on her spell.
Lifting herself up from the ground, Lavender pressed her hand to her gut, where a strange glow formed. In mere moments, any injuries she had sustained had been washed away. She looked up just in time to see her once companions sprinting towards her. She grinned.
Finally, they’re actually going to fight me. Makes all of this a lot easier. Lavender had played this moment over and over in her mind, the epic battle on a climactic sunset. She prepared her knives, tools once used as implements of aid, and took a deep breath. This battle, this final encounter would finally remove the sinking feeling in her chest, that horrible twist in her gut screaming that she’s wrong, that ever growing ache. Lavender took stance, and prepared for an all out onslaught.
Her head ached. A pulsing pain reached across the back of her skull, further amplified by the sounds of footsteps on dirt nearby. What happened? Did she really black out for the fight of her life? Slightly opening her eyes, she saw the camp, a small fire lit in the center of four makeshift tents. Was that all a dream? She attempted to push herself up from her bedding, only to realize she was bound in strange black ropes.
“Oh, you’re awake.” Willow’s quiet voice immediately caught Lavender’s attention, who rolled over to face her. “Sorry for summoning a crystal to hit your head.” Really? A cheap shot? Not only had she lost her cool moment, she went out like a chump. Her father would be disappointed.
“You don’t need to speak up, it’ll just make you feel worse.” Willow placed a hand to Lavender’s head, and cast a sorry excuse for a healing spell. “It isn’t much, but I hope it at least helps a little.” Lavender hated to admit it, but it did.
“Hey Willow, is…” Conray stepped into the tent, and realized Lavender had awoken. “Hi Lavender.” Usually he was much more cheerful with his greetings. She supposed the betrayal must’ve put a damper on his mood.
“How’s the stew coming along?” Willow inquired, getting up off of a sack next to Lavender.
“Could be better, but it’ll do,” Conray seemed disappointed in himself, but was reassured as Willow came up and gave him a pat on the back, “How’s she recovering?”
“She’s just woken up, though I don’t suggest that she speaks up.” Both turned and looked at her, as she dared not look directly at either of them. Footsteps loudened as Ares entered the tent.
“For her health or so she doesn’t say anything stupid again?” He seemed more disgruntled than the rest, staring daggers into Lavender. He was the last of the group to warm up to her fully, and breaking that trust probably was worse than a physical stab to the gut.
“Both,” Willow sighed, looking back at Lavender before turning back to the others, “hopefully she’s not going to do that again.”
“Agreed,” Conray adjusted himself to look out of the tent, only for alarm to take over his visage, “Oh crud, the stew’s bubbling over.” He bolted out, leaving Lavender’s vision. Ares and Willow soon followed, either to assist Conray, or to avoid Lavender.
Other than somewhat distant panicked mutterings as tonight’s meal spilled all over recently disturbed earth, the world went quiet. Regrets began to pool, shrouding concepts of betrayal and revenge, soiling the once fundamentals of her existence.
She was never meant to get attached, she never had before. She’d left dozens of people behind after getting her more than fair share of loot and riches before, because that was how the world works. That’s what her father taught her, what was etched into every fold in her brain, reinforced by his many years of telling her that she’d be used the same way, a means to an end, just another step on a lengthy road.
So why did it hurt, standing at the edge of the cliff, prepared to maim the ones she once saw as tools? What caused that aching in her heart, seeing people who once called her friend scrutinize her with such contempt? Had she grown soft? Or, perhaps, she really did let her guard down.
A admitted to herself that the months spent traveling with those three were probably the happiest of her life. Those starlit nights mapping out the constellations, the conversations through perilous paths, or even just knowing there were people who would come to her aid no matter what. All of these things she once scoffed at, wrote them off as for the weak or the dull, but now? She couldn’t help but regret forsaking them.
Her father left her nothing but lessons, stories about his journey’s, his great adventure. She aspired to be like him, to one day see the world. But as she grew, his stories changed from idyllic to pessimistic at best. No more did he recount the slaying of beasts, nor the acquisition of ancient artifacts. Rather, he spun stories of deceit, of hatred and betrayal, honing in on the worst aspects. Every argument, every disagreement, every mistake that left a lasting scar in his mind. And so, in his dying breath, he imparted one final story.
“I’ve neglected to tell you one detail,” his voice still vividly echoed within her mind, frail and shaky, “the last adventure. You’ve heard the glory of slaying such a great beast, but never questioned why I kept no trophy. The truth is, I was nothing but a tool. The moment that magnificent creature’s head crashed against the rocky terrain, I was no longer a trusted ally, but a threat to their riches.
“And so, in revelry, we came together as we did often, and it was decided that I could have first pickings. They all smiled so warmly as I turned my back, but as I approached the fallen beast, I knew their facade dropped. Before I could even reach it, there was a blade pierced into my back. In moments, I collapsed to the ground. All I can remember afterwards is being shoved into a sack, and being awoken by several nurses.
“And so, my final words of wisdom: don’t you ever trust anyone, not a single soul. The moment you feel safe, they’ll just leave you for dead.”
For so long these words were gospel, an indisputable truth. But now, every fiber of Lavender’s being was telling her that he was wrong. Understanding this brought an aching pain, and yet, it felt as if Lavender could finally feel relief.
Once more, footsteps approached the tent, snapping Lavender back into reality. All she did was get revenge for her father, and while she enjoyed it momentarily, it always left her wishing for something different.
“Ok so we were trying to figure out the logistics of you eating a stew while wrapped up in ropes,” Conray stepped into the tent, followed by Willow and Ares, “and we’ve all agreed that we can’t keep you bound like this forever.” Willow crouched down and cast some sort of spell, releasing the black ropes.
“Don’t mess this up,” Ares grumbled, very clearly hesitant on this decision. Conray very lightly jabbed him with his elbow. Willow stood back up and offered a hand to A, who was still processing everything.
“Look, we can’t forgive you yet,” as Willow spoke, Lavender took her hand, “but maybe you can at least explain what was going on back there? Maybe then we could actually try to.” Lavender pushed herself off the ground, and after a few moments of trying to keep her balance, she managed to stand up, albeit slouched over slightly. She needed to choose her next action carefully.
“I…” she faltered, searching for the right words, “I’m so sorry.”
“I’m sure you are,” Ares scoffed. Conray jabbed him again, coughing slightly to kindly ask him to cease talking.
“Let’s just have some dinner, and we can talk about this when we’re not starving,” Conray gestured towards the exterior of the tent, where a meal awaited. It would take a long time to repair the bonds she had broken, Lavender knew that much. But as she exited the tent with her companions, she felt as though she was ready to try.