A long silence had fallen over the usually-bustling Vancoor. Thanos took written requests from clients without barely a word. It was midday when Anastasia visited the Theater, with her silver-haired twin priestesses in tow. She walked gracefully to Thanos' desk to present him with her request for a crocogator skin. She smiled at him, offered him compliments—while Adina and Elena mumbled insults at the unclean building.
But Thanos just nodded. "Someone'll take care of it. Eventually."
"Whatever is the matter, darling?" Anastasia prodded. "Everyone is so gloomy here."
Thanos wasn't in the mood to talk. "Something's wrong with our Chief."
"Oh no!" Anastasia cried. "What ails him, darling? Is it something my priestesses can tend? We are more than happy to help. My girls are superb healers. Perhaps we can help!" She had claimed the attention of everyone in lobby. Rolec was standing by the bulletin board, while Gareth and Aldo were lingering near the door, ready to leave for lunch. Alicia was standing beside the twins, having been fussing over some papers at the desk. Carlos was passing through. They were all looking at the three Olacion members with tiny glimmers of hope in their eyes. Anastasia's offer to try and talk to Jack had ignited a spark of hope in the room, which had previously been plagued with gloomy silence.
"By all means, go and try. He won't talk to anyone. He's up on the fourth floor."
Anastasia nodded to the twins, who went for the staircase side by side.
"Don't bother knocking," Thanos called. "He won't answer. Just go on in."
They nodded to him and started up the stairs. Adina looked to her sister as they walked. "It's so quiet in here."
"I know," Elena agreed. "The last time we were here, we could barely hear the receptionist over the yelling."
"I wonder what's wrong with their Chief. It must be awful if it's got everyone so quiet and sad."
"We'll see."
They reached the fourth floor and went to the door. Neither sister immediately reached for the handle to barge in. Elena knocked on the door despite Thanos saying there was no need. But it wasn't really knocking for permission—she knocked out of consideration for his privacy, simply to let the Chief know they were outside and coming in.
Elena didn't wait for a reply, but opened the door after a few seconds. She and her sister stepped into the room, closing the door behind them. As soon as they entered, they were engulfed by a sense of gloom. They both felt it; it hit them like a brick wall. It was like a physical bubble filling the room, enveloping anyone who went inside. They glanced at each other before taking a few steps into the room.
Jack was beside the desk at the back of the room, standing in complete silence. He was staring out the window at the distant castle, unmoving. He didn't acknowledge them in the slightest.
"Hello?" Elena asked. "Chief Dragonheart?" He still didn't move, or make any sound. She quietly walked over to stand beside Jack. "Hello?"
She reached out and touched his arm, but he still didn't show any sign of even realizing they were there. The sisters looked to each other, unsure of what to do.
"Wow," Adina mumbled. "He's really out of it."
"Chief Dragonheart, my name is Elena," she said. "I'm with the Olacion Order. Do you remember me? We spoke once."
No response.
"Your receptionist asked us to come up here and see if we could help you. Are you sick?" It was futile. Jack was either ignoring her, or was so blanked out he wasn't hearing her at all. She sighed, and reached out to touch his cheek, which was left partially exposed by his helm. It didn't feel too hot, but rather somewhat cold. She touched his neck, feeling his pulse to see if it was strange or erratic. She could barely feel it, beating so slowly and faintly. She looked to her sister with a look in her eye that her sister was able to immediately make out. They both knew there was definitely something wrong with him.
"I can help you, but you need to tell me what's wrong," Elena persisted. She tried tapping Jack's arm again to try and get his attention, but he was still completely unresponsive. "Adina, can you try using Recovery Ray on him? Maybe he's wounded underneath his armor somewhere. His heart is faint and he's feeling cold."
Adina nodded and began to pray, conjuring up a growing light above her head. Elena tried to wedge herself between Jack and the window without pushing him, standing on her toes to look into the slit in his helmet—the mouth of the lizard-like face on his helmet that allowed him to see out. She tried to look inside and see if his eyes were open, but she couldn't see anything. Giving up on seeing through his helmet, she snapped her fingers in front of his concealed face a few times, trying to get any sort of reaction. But he was still as stone. He was barely breathing.
Adina cast the light toward Jack, and he was briefly engulfed by it. It washed over his body, searching for any injuries or weaknesses to cure. It faded after a few seconds, but there was no change in him.
"…Guess he's not hurt," Elena surmised. Adina went to stand beside them.
"I don't think the problem is physical," she said. "Chief, can you hear us at all? Move a finger if you hear us."
No movement, no response. His hands were still. The sisters looked at each other once again, stumped.
"Chief, my name is Adina. Did something happen to you? What's making you like this?"
"Adina, I don't think he can hear us."
"We don't know for sure," she insisted. "Chief?"
They both looked when the door suddenly opened. A visibly worried Alicia stepped inside, closing the door quietly behind her. "You can't get him to notice you, can you?" She walked over to stand beside them.
"What happened to him? Why is he like this?" Elena asked her.
"We don't know," Alicia replied. "He's been like this since yesterday morning. He was very upset when he returned from the Elf lands, and now he's fallen into this silence. He won't so much as glance at anyone who comes in here. Not even his closest friends."
"He was in the Elf lands?"
Alicia looked to Jack sadly. "Let's step outside. We shouldn't talk about him in here." The twins nodded and followed Alicia out into the hallway.
"That's what we were told. He ran out in a panic two days ago. Later that day, a knight came to Vancoor carrying his axe. He claimed that the Chief was hurt while battling blood orcs, and he'd been taken by the light elves to be cared for. He came back yesterday morning. He stormed up here, screamed at something, and he hasn't moved or made any noise since. He's just staring at the castle."
"Hurt by blood orcs?" Adina gasped.
"That could be what's wrong," Elena guessed. "One of them must have managed to hit him. Weird things happen to people who get hit by blood orcs. They don't usually live very long. We had a man brought to Olacion once who was hurt by an orc. We barely saved him in time."
"He seemed fine when he came back, though, and he was with the elves all night before that. The knight claimed they promised his safe return after he was healed. Surely they took care of it?"
"Hard to say. Clearly there's something wrong with him."
"Can I suggest something?" Adina asked. "Don't laugh."
Alicia and Elena waited for her to continue.
"It feels, to me, like he's actually…heartbroken?"
They stared at her in confusion. Elena scoffed at her.
"Don't brush it off so quickly," Adina said. "I met a man once who was heartbroken. Girls cry when they're heartbroken, but men are different. He's basically emanating sadness. We both felt it when we walked in, Elena." Alicia was looking closer to agreeing, but Elena was still dismissing the idea. "Maybe someone he loves was attacked by the orcs, also."
"That could be possible," Alicia agreed. "But…if the Chief is heartbroken, what can we do to help him?"
"I don't think there's anything we can do," Adina said sadly. "If someone was killed by the orcs, there's no bringing them back."
Alicia's face fell. "That's true."
"Did he ever talk about any girls? Was there anyone he loved?"
"He's never talked about anyone before," Alicia replied. "He's very… I wouldn't say quiet, but he doesn't ever talk about his personal life. He may have mentioned something to Caesar, or Gerald, but never anyone else."
"Well, either way, it doesn't matter," Elena said. "There's nothing we can do to help him. He's not physically ill. He's depressed."
Alicia nodded to them. The sisters lingered for a moment before headed for the staircase to return downstairs. Alicia followed them down, watching as they went to rejoin Anastasia. Everyone in the lobby—they'd all been waiting around—watched them eagerly. The twins looked to Thanos, who was leaning forward in his seat with anticipation.
"We couldn't help him," Elena said matter of factly. "He's not sick. He's just extremely depressed."
The twins nodded to him, and a sad-looking Anastasia led them out of Vancoor. The spark of hope that had been ignited in the warriors vanished, and with hanging faces, they resumed what they had been doing.
Alicia walked over to Thanos. "Adina told me that she thinks the Chief is heartbroken, that maybe someone he loves was hurt by the orcs he was apparently fighting."
Thanos sighed, slumping down in his chair. "That ain't something I can fix. I don't know how to handle sad people. Looks like for now, we've lost our Chief. Gerald's gonna have to step up until he feels better. If he ever does. Watch the desk for me for a minute."
Without waiting for Alicia to agree, Thanos grabbed all of the papers and stood from the desk, going toward the staircase. He made his way up to the third floor and knocked on the door of the Zweit Squad locker room. Gerald called for him to come in, and Thanos opened the door—but didn't bother to go all the way in.
"What is it, Thanos?" Gerald asked unenthusiastically. Even he was being affected by the gray clouds looming over Vancoor.
"Some Olacion girls just went up to see the Chief."
In that exact moment, Gerald's eyes lit up. But there was no good news.
"They said he ain't sick. One of them thinks he's heartbroken. They both think he's extremely depressed. Looks like you're acting Chief. Here's your paperwork." Thanos tossed the pile of envelopes and papers onto the table, and then left the room. Gerald stared at the papers, feeling both angry and sad at the same time. Taking a deep breath, he stood from the table and left the locker room, jumping up the stairs to the fourth floor. He pounded his fist on the door once to let Jack know he was coming in before opening the door and stepping inside. He closed the door behind him, standing there for a moment and staring at Jack's back. He was in the exact same place as he had been, unmoving. The room was completely silent. Gerald felt the gloom in the room just as the twins had. It was like stepping into a freezer.
Gerald stormed over to stand beside Jack. He grabbed his arm, shaking him in an attempt to get a response out of him. "Hello?!" Gerald yelled. "Chief! You need to pull yourself together!"
He practically shoved Jack to the side. He figured Jack would tumble to the ground, but Jack kept his footing. Which meant he was at least partially aware.
"Depressed, huh?" Gerald demanded. "By what? Tell me what happened!"
When Jack didn't reply, Gerald shoved him again, truly believing that this was the only way he could get Jack to respond. Jack, again, didn't fall, but just stumbled back a few steps. He was almost against the wall.
"Say something! Be a man!" Gerald pushed him into the wall, getting angrier. Jack grunted with the impact, but still didn't respond. He slid down the wall onto the floor, sitting against it with his head down. Gerald stared down at him in disbelief. "This isn't you, Chief. This isn't you! Tell me what happened. Tell me what's wrong with you, or I'm gonna have to assume those elves did something to you."
Gerald fell still when he saw a tear running down Jack's cheek from beneath his helm. Regret washed over him, regret that'd he'd resorted to being violent. He knelt down in front of Jack.
"Look, Chief…I'm no good with feelings like this. I don't know how to help you. But the guild needs you. You're our Chief. You can't stay up here forever, withering away. Have you eaten anything? Or are you just gonna let yourself die? Are you that sad?"
Jack didn't reply. No more tears fell. He just sat there in silence. Gerald stood up, overtaken with a new sense of hopelessness. He turned and went to the door, leaving the room.
Jack struggled back to his feet, going back toward the window to stare at the castle in his daze. He was shaky on his feet—he almost felt like he was drunk. His whole body was heavy, like he was dragging himself through a thick gel. The only thing in his mind was a memory of smiling Ridley. One of the few memories where she looked at him, loved him, and smiled at him. When she was floating above the Gold Dragon Castle, about to become the Vessel of Quasar. She was looking at him, smiling—she believed it would be the last time she ever saw him. But that was in the moment before Jack sprang forward to accept the dragon in her place.
But it was a sincere, loving smile. And it was stuck in Jack's mind. He couldn't think of anything else. He was deaf to anyone trying to talk to him.
And then his mind was struck with the vivid image of Ridley being struck by the blood orc. A single tear stung his eye, trickling down his face, before his mind returned to the calm memory of her smiling.
That had been happening for the past day. He just stared at the castle, longing to see her. He knew he couldn't go there. There was no way he'd be let in, so he just stared at it. He glanced up at the sun; it was moving across the sky at a visible pace, the clouds flashing around it. They sped out of sight, and new ones formed. The sun descended toward the horizon, and the sky grew dark. The stars came out, and the moon began to rise. It was all going too fast. Jack was locked where he was, staring at it.
It took all his strength to jerk his head away and pull himself out of his distorted daze. He stumbled back, hitting his desk behind him. It was dark outside…it was nighttime. He glanced at his clock; it was past 10 o'clock.
He'd been sucked into another of his wacked-out daydreams, where time passed him like rushing water in a stream. It was getting worse every day. Soon, he feared he'd be completely disconnected from reality. He wondered if it was because it was drawing so close to the end of his reign. It was almost like getting sleepy. He'd been slipping in and out of the dangerous daze all day, and when he was trapped in it, he couldn't comprehend anything around him other than what was in front of him, where his eyes were stuck.
He took a deep breath, but couldn't really breathe well. He inhaled, but felt like he wasn't getting enough air. He decided he needed some fresh air. But he didn't want to be mobbed, which he knew he inevitably would once the guild knew he'd come out of his daze. But he wanted fresh air before that.
An idea popped into his head. One he'd been wanting to try for a long time, but never had. In the corner of his room, he had a personal chest with old belongings tucked away. He walked quietly over to it, kneeling down before it and opening it.
Inside were several old suits of armor he'd been keeping. Among them were some of his favorites from before he obtained the Valiant Mail. Taking up most of the chest was the unmistakable dark Demon Mail. Beside it was the purple and green Plate Armor. Folded neatly beneath the heavy armor was the Alefstrain, and beneath that, his old Wind Garb. And at the very bottom was his handmade tunic, the oldest possession he had. He carefully pulled it out from the bottom of the chest, looking at it. It was considerably worn. It was extremely old. But it looked like it was holding together just fine. It'd been mostly untouched by time, sealed away in the chest for as long as Jack could remember.
He closed the chest, and carried the tunic over to his desk. He stared at it for a long moment, wondering if he should really do what he was about to do.
But he decided he didn't care.
He was confident he wouldn't have any visitors after Gerald's enraged visit. Surely that was the guild's last attempt to bring him back to reality. He was at least confident he should be fine for the moment. So, he pulled off his helm. And piece by piece, he began to remove the Valiant Mail, until all he had left was his black shirt, and tight pants.
He put on his black knit turtleneck on right over his first shirt, along with the red gauntlets that were attached to it. He pulled on the shorts, and buckled on the massive red belt just above them. After the tiny vest was on, he reached down to put on his boots. He looked down at himself. He briefly reminisced on his time as a human. He looked just like he did back then.
And no one would recognize him like this.
He carried all of the pieces of the Valiant Mail over to the treasury door. He figured he wouldn't need to lock the armor away to hide it—he was already positive no one would be coming in anyway. He set it on the floor. He went back into the main room, where the Ancient Axe was sitting on the desk. He figured it was fine where it was, and decided to leave it there.
He faced the door, took a deep breath, and reached for the handle.
He opened it as quietly as he could, stepping out into the hallway. The good thing about the boots that went with the tunic was that they weren't heavy like the Valiant Mail's boots. He could walk silently. He made his way quietly over to the staircase and descended carefully, listening for footsteps. He rounded the corner to the next flight, and made it down to the second floor. He jumped across the hallway to the back door, slowly opening it so as not to alert anyone who may be in the Quarto Squad Locker Room—although he was almost completely sure it should be empty after 10 at night. Caesar occasionally picked random days to stay in the room rather than go to the fountain, and Jack had no clue about the rest of the squad. Any or all of them could be inside.
He stepped outside in the crisp, cool air of the night. He went down the staircase onto the Path of Swords and Wisdom. He looked up at the sky, and took a deep breath. This time, the cool air filled his lungs all the way, and he didn't feel like he was suffocating. A calm filled him from head to toe. He felt better.
He turned to the left and went toward the front of Vancoor. He walked past it and went around to the other side, headed for the path that lead to Vancoor Square. He walked slowly, enjoying the air. He didn't see anyone, and so wasn't completely sure if his plan would work. No one but Wight and a doctor—now both retired—had ever seen his face, so people couldn't possibly recognize him.
He stopped when he saw someone in the distance. It was…Ganz? He was just outside the Begin Eatery.
He was waddling along the path, looking upset; his face was dropping, and there were bags under his eyes. He looked extremely disheartened. He was clutching a wrinkly piece of paper in his hands; Jack squinted at it.
And then he remembered! After the brigade was disbanded because of the orc attack, he and Ganz tried to join Vancoor that night, and Ganz failed because of his drinking beforehand.
Jack walked over to the side of Vancoor, standing beside the wall and watching Ganz from a distance. Ganz was staring hard at the paper in his hand, looking anxious. He looked down the side street, stared there for a moment, and then with a deep breath, took off running toward the pub. Jack's eyes followed him. Should he stop him?
Jack tried to think on it. So far, he'd kept Vancoor the same as it was in the previous life, with all the same people in the same positions as they had been in Elwen's Vancoor. Ganz wasn't meant to be in Vancoor—he was meant to join the Void Community after failing Vancoor's test.
But the cycle was already different enough; Jack had kept a lot the same, but he changed things, as well. And he figured…this was something he'd prefer to be changed.
He started toward the side street to follow Ganz. When he turned the corner, he gasped in surprise when Jarvis was there, drunk as hell with a beet red face. He looked loopy, with one eyelid drooping more than the other, and he was hardly standing straight. His whole body was lopsided; he was leaning heavily on his right leg, and he looked ready to topple over in the street at any moment. He looked right at Jack, and frowned.
He reached out and shoved Jack roughly to the side of the path. "Outta the way, shrimp!" he slurred, trying to shuffle past him. He swayed ridiculously as he dragged his feet along the stone, barely able to stay upright. Jack watched him as he went, a massive wave of relief shooting across his body. Jarvis hadn't recognized him.
He turned and went to the door of Carl's Pub, opening and stepping into the dimly lit building. Giske was behind the bar and glanced at him, looking annoyed to see someone who looked so young in his pub. Ganz was at the bar, waiting for his drink. Yuri was standing by the bar, smiling at Jack sweetly. The bar's nighttime regulars were all there: Jasmine, Herz, and Eugene. They were all sitting with their drinks, perfectly content.
"No sales to kids," Giske spat at Jack, who nodded to him. Jack walked over and stood beside Jack.
"You don't need that."
Ganz looked at him, surprised. "I beg your pardon?" His voice was shaky with anxiety.
"You don't need that," Jack repeated. "It'll make you loopy."
Ganz stuttered for a moment, and reached out for the drink Giske had prepared. He stared at it, and then looked back to Jack. "I'm going to join Theater Vancoor tonight. They'll probably have some kind of entry test… I'm a bit nervous. I just wanted a pick-me-up."
"But if you drink that, you might fail the test. You won't do your best."
Ganz looked at the drink again, looking torn.
"Don't drink it. I promise you don't need it," Jack urged.
Ganz looked at it again, and let out a nervous sigh. Eugene beside him was almost finished with his own beer. "If you aren't gonna drink that, pass it over here, man." Ganz took a long moment, and then, looking defeated, slid the beer over to Eugene, who took it with a huge smile. Giske behind the bar let out an exasperated sigh.
"If you're not gonna drink, you can go ahead and move along," he said.
Ganz stood from his stool, and left the bar with Jack following. Outside on the road, he took a deep breath, scratching his head. "Now I have nothing to calm me down."
"Trust me, drinking before your entry test wouldn't be a good idea," Jack promised. "You'll pass the test easy-peasy."
"Are…you a member of the guild?" Ganz asked. To protect his identity, Jack shook his head. "Would you…take the test with me?"
"Uh…no, but I'll walk you to the guild?" Jack offered. Jack couldn't take the test. Even if the members of the guild wouldn't recognize him, he would pass the test without a problem—and then need to be in two places at once as two separate people. Jack didn't feel like dealing with such a huge problem.
Ganz sighed. "That'll be all right, I suppose."
The two started toward Vancoor, walking side by side. For a moment, Jack's mind went fuzzy as he felt himself almost slip back out of reality like he'd been doing all day. He shook his head, trying to stay focused. Ganz looked up at him, looking worried.
"Are you all right, sir?" he asked.
Holding his head, Jack replied, "Yeah, I'm fine! I'm just a bit tired."
"Perhaps I should walk you back to your home, instead…"
"No, it's fine! I promise." He smiled at him. Ganz stared for a moment before letting it go.
Jack felt so free in plain sight! He loved it! He'd need to step out wearing other clothes more often! He wasn't under everyone's watchful eye, able to do whatever he wanted without worrying about spawning new rumors or gossip.
They reached the front door of Theater Vancoor. Ganz stared up at it fearfully, his muscles visibly locking up beneath his round armor. Jack wished he could promise him entry, but that would give away his identity. Even if Ganz still failed, Jack, once back in his Valiant Mail, was going to let him in anyway. He wanted him around.
"I'll just stay loose!" Ganz said as he started to walk toward the door, about as stiff and graceful as a rusted robot. Jack followed him inside. He felt a bit of worry once he was within Thanos' sight. But the gloomy-looking Thanos glanced at them, and dismissed them almost immediately. He didn't recognize Jack, who breathed out a quiet sigh of relief.
Ganz walked over to the desk with the stiffest gait Jack had ever seen.
"Greetings, kind sir!" he said nervously. Thanos glanced up at Ganz and Jack. "I am here to enlist!"
Jack stood behind Ganz, almost feeling bad for him. It was almost embarrassing.
"You're that tubby knight that brought the Chief's axe back yesterday. What do you want?" Thanos demanded. Jack could tell he wasn't in the mood. It seemed like Jack's recent mental coma had put the whole guild in a state of irritability and gloominess.
"I am Captain Ganz Rothschild, formerly of the Rose Cochon brigade… Today I've retired from the Royal Knights and come directly here to apply to your organization." Thanos was staring almost suspiciously—almost hatefully at Ganz, who was trembling with nervousness.
"What about you, kid?" Thanos glanced at Jack.
Jack shook his head. He didn't want to talk for fear of his voice giving away his identity.
"Okay, tubs. Head up to the second floor. You'll be with Sergeant Caesar. Once you're finished with him, you'll head up a floor to see Gerald, our second-in…well, acting Chief."
Acting Chief? Jack didn't realize his mental coma had the guild in such a loop.
Just as he thought about it, his consciousness drifted a bit. He shook his head again to try and keep himself together. Thanos noticed, as did Ganz. "You all right, squirt?"
"Erm, young sir…perhaps you should return home. You don't seem well," Ganz insisted. "Shall I walk you home, and then return?"
But Jack smiled and shook his head, gesturing to Thanos. Ganz turned back to face him.
"Is the test tonight? Right now?"
"We don't have time for hoity-toity knight ceremonies here. Now get your fingers out of your nose and hop to it. No one here is in the mood for this," Thanos said. There was less of a bite to his voice than usual.
"Y-yes sir!" Ganz exclaimed, bolting toward the stairs. Jack watched him go.
"You sure you're fine, squirt?" Thanos asked. "You're looking pretty pale."
"I'm fine," he replied quietly, hoping his voice wouldn't reveal him. But Thanos wasn't suddenly struck by a realization. He just stared at Jack, doubting what he'd said rather than his identity. Jack nodded to Thanos before turning to head back toward the door. "Have a nice night."
"Yeah, uh…you, too," Thanos replied awkwardly. Jack went out the front door back onto the street in front of the guild. He took one last long moment to stand there, breathing in the cool air and relaxing before he turned back down onto the Path of Swords and Wisdom, headed for the guild's back door. He went up the stairs, and placed his ear against the wooden door, listening to see if Ganz was still in the hallway. He heard some movement, and then a door opened, closed, and then all was silent. He waited a few more seconds before he quietly opened the door, stepping inside. He went up the staircase to the third floor, being especially careful not to make a sound out of fear Gerald would hear, and then went up the stairs to the fourth floor. He opened the door, glancing inside to see if anyone was within.
It was empty. Jack slid in and closed the door, taking a deep breath.
He needed to do that more often.
He went to the treasury door, opening it and stepping inside. He began to remove his handmade tunic carefully, hoping it wouldn't rip or come apart. He'd noticed as he wore it that it was particularly worn, and likely at the very end of its life. He definitely wanted to go out more often, and so decided he'd go out and get himself something new. He had plenty more armor in his old chest, but he almost dared to say he hated the Wind Garb, and the Plate Armor, Alefstrain, and Demon Mail would all draw too much attention. He needed something unique to Radiata that wouldn't catch people's eyes. He remembered seeing a blue coat in the Verontier Armory that he'd taken quite a liking to. He wasn't able to get it in the past life because he left the city to join the nonhumans. Why shouldn't he have it this life?
He began to put all of his armor back on, saving his helm for last as usual. He took one last deep breath before pulling it on. He leaned down and picked up his tunic, and went back into his main room. He walked to the chest, opened it, and set the tunic down inside on top of the Demon Mail's breastplate.
On the floor below him, he heard Gerald's war cry—he was ambushing Ganz, no doubt. He didn't hear any crashing, and he didn't hear Ganz rolling around, so he assumed he managed to dodge. Jack walked to his desk and sat down in the chair. The desk was clear of any papers; only the axe was on the desktop. Gerald must have been getting all the papers from Thanos. Jack briefly worried he'd been stuck outside of reality for longer than he thought—but then realized that the Rose Cochon was only disbanded two days after the orc attack. He returned from the City of Flowers the day after. So less than two days had passed.
He heard Gerald's door open below him. He listened to the footsteps getting quieter as they went down the stairs to the training ground on the second floor. Without anything to distract himself, he couldn't help but start to slip away. He shook his head furiously to try and stop it. Finally, in an effort to stay aware, he stood up from his chair, and grabbed his axe, and started swinging it at the air. He was trying desperately to keep away from the looming daze. He didn't want to blank out again.
Time flew past, distorted like usual, before he heard footsteps approaching. They came closer than the third floor. They were coming up higher, toward the fourth floor. It must be Ganz.
But then he heard Gerald's unmistakable voice, as well. "It's tradition for new recruits to meet the Chief," Gerald said. "But our Chief has been out of it since yesterday morning when he returned from the elves. But you would know all about that, wouldn't you? Oh, well. It's hardly worth it to visit him, but hey. It's tradition." Gerald sounded so disheartened. He was in for a surprise.
Jack went back to his chair, leaning his axe against the wall behind him. He sat down in his chair, slumping down with fatigue. He didn't sleep often; since becoming the vessel, his sleep schedule had been altered. But he felt about ready to sleep for a few days straight. Maybe a good hibernation over a few days or maybe a week or so would cure him of his annoying black outs. He'd never had a problem with it before, but maybe it was just happening because he was tired.
The footsteps reached the other side of his door. Gerald knocked once loudly like he had earlier in the day, and then the door creaked open. Gerald stepped inside with a grim look on his face.
But he froze when he saw Jack sitting in the chair, rather than staring out the window in a depressed daze. The dread that had been looming over the room had dissipated. Jack was awake and aware. Gerald gasped.
"Chief?!" he exclaimed.
"Hello, Gerald," Jack replied rather weakly. Now that he'd acknowledged he was tired, the sleepiness was getting worse. He felt ready to pass out any second.
"Chief, you're—!"
"Feeling better, yes."
Ganz's face lit up. "Chief Dragonheart! I am so relieved to see that you are back, and well! I was so worried for your well-being when lord Nogueira said your life was in danger. I hope they took good care of you."
"They did, Sir Ganz. The elves are very kind. Thank you for your concern."
"No, thank you for coming to our aid when we were attacked!" Ganz was being overcome with his uncontrolled admiration for Jack once again. Gerald was staring at him. "It was because of your efforts that Lady Ridley was saved. You saved us! I fear that if you had not stepped in, there could have been more, perhaps graver injuries."
"Yes, I know," Jack insisted. He did not want to talk about it. He didn't want to talk about blood orcs, or the attack, or his stay with elves, or about Ridley. "How did Sir Ganz do with the tests, Gerald?"
"Please, it's just Ganz—I am no longer a Royal Knight," Ganz insisted. Jack just nodded to him.
"He just barely passed. He was shaking in his boots. But he didn't run away! I figured he couldn't be much worse than Rolec. I've already told him he was accepted to the guild. I know that's your decision, but I didn't know you were…"
"It's all right," Jack promised. "I'm more than happy to welcome you to our guild, Ganz. We could use you."
"Thank you, sir!" Ganz exclaimed.
Jack recalled the words Elwen said to him the night he joined Vancoor in the previous life. He decided to pass it on to Ganz. It felt right. "A word of wisdom, Ganz."
"Yes, sir?"
"You mustn't wield your sword only for yourself. Remember this: only those who fight to protect another are able to achieve true strength."
The sleep was creeping closer.
"I agree entirely, sir! Wise words! Thank you, sir!" Ganz bowed.
"Welcome to Theater Vancoor. Head back downstairs and speak to Thanos. He'll get you settled in."
Ganz nodded, and turned to leave. He opened the door and stepped out. Gerald looked at Jack for a second, and then went to leave, as well. Jack watched him go. As soon as he was gone, Jack leaned over his desk, resting his head on his arms. He felt sleep coming. He let out a sigh, and his eyes grew too heavy to keep open. He let them close, and within seconds, Jack drifted away into a deep sleep.
Downstairs, Ganz went up to Thanos.
"Come on, I'll show you to your new place. Grab your stuff and follow me." Thanos started toward the door, with Ganz hurrying along behind him.
"Hey, who was that kid who was with you earlier?"
"I don't know. I met him in the pub. He walked with me to the guild, but I'm not sure who he was. I was going to ask you."
"No idea," Thanos replied, shrugging. "I've never seen him before in my life."
"He seemed rather unwell. I wish he'd let me walk him home."
"Yeah, he was looking queasy."
"I hope he is all right, whoever he is. I hope we'll meet again."
"Well…don't count on it. I've never seen him. He must be from out of town."
They continued along the road in silence toward a vacant house in the distance. Little did Ganz know, the boy who stopped him from drinking earlier was of course none other than Jack himself.
And Jack was trapped in the deepest sleep he'd ever had.
