Hey guys! Welcome back to Hear a Tale! Just a quick note - there definitely won't be an update next week, since I'll be on vacation with my family, but I'll likely return soon after. Thanks for your patience! :D For now though, review time!

Thanks so much to CitrusChickadee for reviewing! Glad you enjoyed! It's always fun to explore the similarities and differences between the travelers' stories and how they each respond to their own struggles. And yes, Ophilia deserves all of the hugs :')

With that, on with the tale!

Relevant Events: None (minor references to Therion and Olberic's backstories)

40. Overrated

Therion, Olberic decided, was an exceptionally odd sparring partner.

The thief was the only member of their traveling group, aside from the warrior himself, who regularly wielded a sword, but he did so in a way that often left Olberic confounded. Accustomed as he was to the rigorous training and specific stances and styles he'd learned during his time as a knight, Therion's self-taught techniques and clever tricks tended to throw Olberic off, time and time again. Not that it was a bad thing, of course - Olberic was always more than willing to find new ways of improving his own fighting style through practice, after all. It was just that Therion's particular brand of battling could sometimes stray towards…the devious.

"Shit!" Therion hissed, stumbling a few steps away from Olberic before falling to one knee and gripping his right arm tightly. His sword clattered to the ground, followed by a few droplets of red that seeped out from between the thief's fingers. "Damn it all to hell…"

Olberic's heart dropped, and he tossed his own sword aside as he rushed to kneel beside Therion. "Are you alright?" the warrior asked urgently. "I'm sorry, I never meant to actually hit y - "

He was cut off by Therion's leg shooting out and hooking around Olberic's, kicking hard into the space behind his knee, not hard enough to cause lasting damage, but enough to send him to the ground, gasping. Then, from Therion's other boot, there was a flash of steel, and Olberic found himself staring cross eyed at the tip of a dagger pointed mere inches away from his face.

"Looks like I win this one, soldier boy," the thief remarked smugly. He pulled his hand away from his supposedly injured arm, revealing the remains of a couple of crushed strawberries smeared across his palm. "Hasn't anyone ever taught you never to let your guard down for a second in a fight?"

"...yes," Olberic grunted, lifting a finger and slowly nudging Therion's dagger away from him, "but usually, it is in the context of a real battle. Not a friendly sparring match between comrades." He pushed himself back up to his knees and gave the young thief a flat look. "Typically, when one knight fights another, a certain system of honor is understood between them."

"Heh. Good thing I'm not a knight, then." Therion slipped the knife back into his boot, then turned to retrieve his fallen sword, licking the strawberry juice from his fingers as he went. "Besides, honor is overrated anyway."

Olberic arched a brow. "Oh? And what makes you say that?"

"Because what's the point of sticking to some kind of honor code when you know that most of the people you fight aren't going to do the same? I mean, come on…if someone's trying to kill you, then anything goes. Sometimes, swallowing your pride and fighting dirty is the only way to make sure you'll live to see the next day."

"I see…" Olberic frowned, watching as Therion casually scooped up his sword and slipped it back into its sheath. "If you don't mind my asking…where did you learn such a harsh lesson?"

The thief shrugged. "Where else but the streets? A childhood of cutting purses and dodging the law makes for quite the efficient teacher." Therion paused, eyeing Olberic suspiciously. "This isn't the start of some sappy, heartfelt lecture, is it? Or an attempt at a heart-to-heart? Trust me, I already get enough of all that from Cyrus."

"I'm, ah…not sure I know what exactly you are referring to."

"Oh, you know, the whole 'genial professor instilling life lessons into a troubled youth' routine." Therion drew himself up haughtily and spoke in a surprisingly decent imitation of Cyrus' accent. "My dear boy, you needn't be so mistrustful of others! I realize that I'm not even a decade your senior, and that you are, in fact, older than six, but my age and infinite wisdom still grant me the qualifications to instruct you on how to restructure your life for the better!" He shrugged. "That sort of thing."

Olberic blinked. Even after all this time, Therion's casual acerbity could still find ways to surprise him.

"Well, now…" the warrior said, clearing his throat awkwardly as he got to his feet, "I doubt his intentions are ever malicious, Therion. Certainly, he always means well."

"Oh, I know," the thief replied. "That's the only reason I haven't punched him for it yet. It's annoying as hell sometimes, but he's so oblivious and trying so hard to be nice…it'd be like kicking a puppy. No one else has permission to talk to me that, though, so don't even think about trying it for yourself."

"Er…duly noted." Olberic shook his head. "Regardless, that was never my intention, no. I was merely curious about how you developed your mindset that 'honor is overrated'...because from my viewpoint, I would argue that victory is, in fact, the overrated concept."

"Really, now…?" Therion's eye narrowed as he studied Olberic with no small amount of skepticism. "Fine, I'll bite. Why do you think that?"

"What is the point of victory if it ultimately tastes just as bitter as defeat? Fighting without honor is…fighting with regret."

"Between you and me, I don't regret my strawberry trick at all."

Olberic chuckled lightly. "I am sure you do not. However, that's not quite what I meant. Amusing tricks and pranks are one thing, but if this were a real battle, and you had actually slit my throat…would you not feel guilt? Even if I were an enemy, your tactics were preying on my own sense of justice and compassion. You knew that I would let my guard down if I thought I'd accidentally hurt you, correct? And so you took advantage of my inclination to do the right thing. Does that not sour your victory at all?"

Therion hesitated, rubbing a strawberry seed between his thumb and index finger. "Well…I don't know. If I'd actually been planning to kill you, then yeah, that kind of trick would've been a scummy way to do it. Though if I was trying to kill you, then wouldn't I hypothetically be exactly the scummy sort of person who would do something like that? It's not like I'd have any reservations about dirty tricks if I was the kind of villain to fight against someone as married to the concept of justice as you are."

"Mhm…a fair point."

"And besides," Therion continued, "like I said before, if someone's trying to kill me anyway, why should I bother to play by the rules? The lowlifes that go after us and the others target those emotional weaknesses all the time."

"Should I take that to mean that you don't mind sinking to their level?"

"I prefer to think of it as giving them a taste of their own medicine."

"Hm…" Olberic sighed and shook his head. "Opposite viewpoints, I suppose, born from opposite upbringings. Though…I feel I should point out that sometimes, honorable men end up on both sides of a conflicts. Things do not always offer a clear choice between good and evil - depending on the perspective, you could be a villain, and your enemy a hero."

"Uh huh…" Therion's visible eye narrowed, searching the warrior's face. "Oh, I see what this is. You're thinking about your old soldier boyfriend."

Olberic blinked. "My wha - ?"

"Well sure," the thief interrupted, "I'll concede that there are a lot of complicated situations out there. Sometimes your villain's an actual piece of garbage who stabs you and shoves you off a cliff just so some other pieces of garbage will like him, and sometimes he's a guy with a tragic past and a semi-decent reason to cause the collapse of an entire kingdom. Maybe sometimes he's both, who knows? But either way, I still think honor in battle is overrated. Nice to have? Sure. But depending on who you're going up against, you need to know when to drop the justice act and start hitting below the belt."

This was likely the most Olberic had ever heard Therion speak at one time, and the content was far more than the warrior had the energy to fully unpack at the moment (he especially wasn't about to touch the "old soldier boyfriend" comment with a ten-foot pole). Instead, he merely took a deep breath and said calmly, "Very well. I can see where you are coming from, and if that is your mindset…then far be it from me to begrudge you for it."

Therion's eyebrow lifted. "I'm sending a 'but' coming here."

"But…it is not a way that I myself could live." The older man shook his head. "Perhaps it is due to my training as a knight…though that feels like an age long past, the lessons still persist. And, I suppose, my outlook could have also been affected by Erhardt, my…" He gave Therion a sideways glance through narrowed eyes. "...comrade in arms, and his actions. He committed acts of treason and betrayal, and yet…he acted according to his own sense of justice, and his motivation is one I can acknowledge, if not condone. There are countless definitions of honor, and, even if they are my enemy, I will at least hold some amount of respect for those to adhere to one. That, to me, will never be overrated."

"Uh huh…" Therion frowned thoughtfully, tilting his head to one side. "Fair enough. Guess we all have lines we won't cross, yeah? Even if some people's are further back than others…but whatever. I get your point - and anyway, that's enough morality lessons for today. What do you say we move on from all this waxing poetic and go another round?" He slid his sword from his sheath and grinned mischievously. "I'll play fair, I promise."

Olberic couldn't help but chuckle. "Somehow, I doubt that. But very well." He lifted his blade, with a rare grin of his own. "Now that I know your game…seeing as this is not a real battle, I suppose I have no reason to hold back myself. Have at you!"

"Ha! Try me, old man!"

As their swords clashed, the warrior felt lighter, having temporarily set aside his knightly demeanor for the sake of a bit of fun. Perhaps, in a sparring match among friends, it was really only the rules that were overrated.

See you guys next time for Tale 41: Teamwork!