Sins of the Forefathers: A LitRPG Fantasy Isekai

“Interestin’.” Azarus said idly, cutting into the steak on his plate.

After we had gotten back from our lunchtime break, Grey and I worked on testing my new Profession for the rest of the day. In between breaks to let my mana recover, Grey had me identifying and breaking down alchemical ingredients and herbs all day. I hadn’t seen the point in repeatedly breaking down herbs when I’d already shown I could do it, and I’d said that to Grey. He had patiently explained to me that this was merely practice in getting me to use the Profession, in getting me in the mindset where I could resonate materials and break them down. I’d known I entered a form of trance every time I tried using Aetherial Melding, but I hadn’t been aware that each time I did it was nearly ten minutes of effort on my part. I guess I could see the utility in speeding up the process, but honestly, I think part of it was Grey wanted more Alchemical Essences to work with as well.

Once the sun had started to go down and we’d heard Azarus stomp back into the house, we had mutually decided to stop for the night. Well, mutually after I had browbeaten Grey a little, considering how much that guy liked to research. I needed to stop, honestly. It’s not that I wasn’t enjoying what we were doing on some level, but goddamn was it exhausting after a while. I hadn’t expected repeatedly exhausting my Stamina reserves to be so physically exhausting as well. I guess magic needed plenty of effort, just like everything else in life.

After making our way to the kitchen, which had by default become the household’s meeting place, Grey had started making dinner. On one hand, I felt a little bad about making an elderly disabled man cook for three people. On the other, not only was he good at it, but he seemed to derive a simple joy from it. Even if I don’t think I was a bad cook myself, I’d let him have it.

Azarus had entered the kitchen at around the time Grey had finished, fresh from the bath. Once we’d settled down to eat, conversation about my new Profession naturally flowed from there.

“Interesting?” Grey spluttered. “That’s all you have to say? It’s an entirely new Profession that works by directly manipulating Aether! It’s more than a little bloody interesting!”

Azarus snorted, directing his fork to point at Grey. “Yeah, and that’s interesting like I said. We’ll see how it works with forging later, I suppose. Don’t forget, you were the one that were so excited about this…Aetherial Melding, yeah?” He said, looking over at me. At my amused nod, he continued. “I just think it’s neat, that’s all.”

“Neat, he says,” Grey muttered, cutting into his own steak vigorously. “Neat my well-educated behind. This is damned revolutionary for the Aetherial sciences…” He continued to mutter to himself under his breath.

When Grey wasn’t listening, Azarus shot me a smirk. I just shook my head at their antics with a smile and got back to eating. The rest of the table set to eating in mostly companionable silence. Once everyone was finished, the conversation picked up again.

“So,” I said to Azarus, content to have a full belly. “Do you want me to try and forge some stuff with you tomorrow then?”

“Eh, I’d like that, but we can’t,” Azarus answered with a lazy shrug. “With all the excitement lately, we forgot we had another commitment to see to. Remember?”

I stared at him blankly for a moment, baffled.

“Bleddyn.” Azarus reminded me.

Oh. Oh…shit. The ‘butcher’, who was actually an old-timey barber. The one that had taught me Fleshcraft. The one that had only taught me the Profession under the condition that I would return and learn from him.

“Well, you know, that’s kind of a problem now,” I said wryly. “Considering I don’t even have a Fleshcraft Profession anymore.”

“Aye.” Azarus grimaced. “And he’s not going to let go of this. Some kind of matter of honor thing with his people.”

Grey looked up from his plate. “Ah, the butcher, yes? I believe he’s one of the hill folk? I’ve had dealings with his people before, and it’s not likely to be an issue.” He leaned forward. “In fact, I believe there’s an easy way to bring him into confidence in regards to Nathan's new Profession. After all, he still needs to test the other Professions fields than what we can provide.”

“Are ya mad?” Azarus blurted out. “I like Bleddyn, I do. But I don’t know if I trust him with any of our secrets.”

Grey waved off his concerns with a hand holding a fork. “Normally, I would agree, but the hill folk and I have an understanding. When you go to him, simply ask him to keep a secret at the request of Ghrian Dorcha. No true son of the hills would deny you then. And besides, it’s not as if we’re reading him in on our intentions to escape. Merely…requesting his assistance with an unusual skill.”

Azarus and I shared a glance.

I leaned forward. “Ghrian Dorcha, huh. What’s that about?”

“Hmm, an epithet that I received during a Grand Aonach of the hill clans after I performed a service for them. This was…some time ago indeed, my my. Where do the years go…” Grey trailed off, staring into space for a moment. After a moment, he shook his head. “In any case, you’ll be fine. I suspect your friend Bleddyn will be an asset in our quest to understanding your new Profession, Nathan.”

I took a deep breath before nodding. “All right, I’ll…take your word for it.” I looked over at Azarus. “So, I guess we’re going into town tomorrow then?”

Azarus looked between Grey and me for a moment before throwing up his hands in frustration. “Fine. Fine! We’ll do it your bloody way then. Aye, we’ll head into town in the morning. Be it on your heads if this blows up in our faces.”

……………………………………..

I had trouble sleeping that night. I don’t know what caused it, but I found myself tossing and turning in my bed for hours. I was exhausted after a long day of testing, but somehow, I couldn’t get my mind quiet enough to rest. All I could do was think about Atherial Melding, for some reason. I was excited.

Something in me was honestly a little giddy about what I had spent the day doing. Thinking back on it, the hours had flown by with Grey because I had truly been enjoying myself. Beyond all the System and Status stuff, beyond the elves and dwarves, making things with magic had really appealed to something deep inside of me. I’d had moments of wonder before about the world I had found myself in, but nothing on this scale. It was mystical in a way that appealed to the memory of my younger self, who would spend hours upon hours reading fantasy books. Sometimes just to block out the world.

Eventually, I must have passed out, if from nothing but pure fatigue. I must not have slept long, because it felt like only minutes later I was woken up by a pounding on my door. The pounding continued for a few moments, but I was too out of it to tell if the person on the other side had said anything. Whatever, it was probably Azarus, and I knew what he was up to. Judging by the light coming in through my window, it must have just been after sunrise. Blearily, after a few minutes of trying to wake up, I stumbled out of bed. After getting dressed and splashing my face with water in the washroom, I lurched my way downstairs to a kitchen.

Azarus was in there and greeted me with a grunt. For once, I didn’t say anything back and just grunted in return. I just made myself some tea and helped myself to some of the toast Azarus had left out on the counter. After a quick, silent breakfast, we mutually decided it was time to leave for town, with minimal conversation. I guess neither of us was in much of a talking mood today.

Once we got on the path to town from Azarus’s house, I started to feel more human, rather than a shambling corpse.

I broke the silence. “We doing this the way Grey said?”

Azarus merely grunted in assent.

The rest of the walk into town was silent between us. It didn’t feel adversarial or awkward or something. It just felt like neither of us had anything to say.

Once we got closer to town, I slipped in behind Azarus and adopted my usual deferential posture among other dwarves. I most likely needn’t have bothered, because we didn’t see anyone else on the main thoroughfare. I guess not everyone wanted to be out and about at the ass-crack of dawn like Azarus. After a short walk, we reached the butcher shop. This time, Azarus didn’t bother kicking in the door like last time, merely opening it like a normal person. Inside, the human woman I’d had a few run-ins with wasn’t behind the counter this time. Instead, it was Vandimar, the dwarven owner of the shop. Strangely enough, he was eating his own breakfast at the front counter.

Our entrance caused the bell above the door to jingle, catching his attention mid-sip from a steaming mug. Hurriedly setting it down, Vandimar smiled tiredly at us.

“Ah, welcome, welcome my friends.” He said in a low voice. “Come in. We haven’t opened quite yet, but most of us are up.”

Azarus and I approached the counter. I broke the silence first, looking around. “Where’s Rachel?”

Vandimar grimaced at my question, cupping his hands around his mug. “Ah. Yes. She is…indisposed. I’m afraid that one of the fellows that were involved in Lord Magnus’s…hunt was a relation of hers. He did not survive the encounter, I’m afraid. As it is, I’ve given her leave to process the loss. I’d ask you to leave her to her grief, for now.” He smiled wanly at me. “I was quite distressed to hear of your involvement in that debacle, Mr. Hart. I’m relieved to see you in good health.”

I let out a long sigh. So, one of those other poor bastards was family to Rachel, then. I…hadn’t even thought to ask what had happened to them after I had gotten out of the forest. Did that make me a bad person? I had just automatically assumed they were dead. Which, apparently at least one of them was. I decided to ask about the other one.

My question caused Vandimar to raise one perfectly sculpted eyebrow at me. “You did not know? You were the only survivor of the…expedition, Mr. Hart.”

“I didn’t think to ask,” I said quietly, a little ashamed of myself. I may have gone through hell in there, but those other guys were people too, Goddammit. “I was pretty out of it after everything, and then yesterday we were busy with something…” I trailed off.

“I see,” Vandimar said softly. “Do not be ashamed, Mr. Hart. I’m certain it was a traumatizing experience, and we all experience trauma differently.”

I exhaled. That didn’t really excuse it though, as far as I was concerned. “The next time you see her, can you give her my condolences?”

“I will do so, Mr. Hart.” Sitting up more on his stool and pushing his plate to the side, Vandimar smiled wider at us. “Now! What can I do for you gentlemen?”

Azarus finally spoke up from where he had been hanging back. “Got to see Bleddyn about something. And…” He dug around in his pocket for something, pulling out a small leather bag. He underhand tossed it across the counter. Vandimar caught it neatly and pulled on the drawstring to look inside. He took a long, drawn-out smell of the contents and then cinched it closed with a smile.

“Thank you, Lord Azarus.” Vandimar inclined his head. “Once again, you pull through. Bleddyn is in the back. I believe he’s setting up for the day.”

Azarus grunted and started to make his way behind the counter and through the door. I followed him, after exchanging one last set of acknowledging nods with Van. My last sight of him was an understanding smile before the door closed behind me.