Grand Saint Alloy

“That was the most disgusting thing I have ever seen,” Eve gagged.

She was currently sitting on a bed. Just like the other warehouse, it had several small buildings that shared one of its walls. They were very similar to the bunkhouses in the mine. Tristan had cut a hole into the shared wall so they could shove a few of the food crates against the door. It only had a single exit and they did not wan any ghost crabs using it.

They barred the big double doors and went about making dinner, which was Clive’s job. Clive was the only one who knew how to cook. Not even William, who had arrived way before them, knew how. It was a weird feeling for Tristan, to realize that Clive had the only non redundant skills in the group.

“It is uncomfortable seeing all those little crabs eating the big ones with such eagerness,” Clive shuddered, “It makes me think of a child eating its parents.”

“It’s actually a lot more common than you think,” William said, breaking his sulk for the first time, “Many types of insects will cannibalize each other. Black Widows will eat their mates, and many types of scorpions will eat each other, so they are acting pretty normal for bugs.”

Bruce inspected William, “You seem to know a lot about bugs.”

William snorted, “Of course I know more than you.”

Bruce waited for him to continue, however William simply leaned back on his mattress and closed his eyes, Evidently his mere existence was enough to be better than them. Tristan could only internally laugh at Bruce getting the same treatment that he had received from most people. Bruce had likely never been talked down to, no one in the Forest Caldera would dare. With the Golden Heart patriarch being tier four, there were only a handful of people who even could.

Eve’s eyes locked on Tristan, “what’s so funny?”

“Oh, just Bruce getting a cold reception from a warrior,” Tristan said.

“Why is that funny? Do you like it when others are uncomfortable?” Eve asked, disapproval evident in her voice.

“In general, I don’t care. Bruce specifically, I think its hilarious,” Tristan answered, “And Clive, he can be uncomfortable too.”

Clive ducked his head to avoid Tristan’s glare. As soon as he discovered who Sage was, he was terrified. The helpless, crippled, thirteen year old had turned into something genuinely dangerous. His goal had never been to hurt Tristan, he had just wanted to keep Harp safe. Unfortunately, his fatherly desires seemed to have backfired in this situation.

Eve crossed her arms, “What about me?”

“Only if it frustrates your grandfather,” Tristan said, she seemed confused so he continued, “He tried to have my uncle kill me.”

Eve seemed horrified, “He would not do that! My grandpa is a kind man.”

Tristan nodded, “Sure, but that is subjective. Your sister would say the alchemist is kind, but you would not, despite never having met him.”

In truth, the situation with Eve’s sister was hard for Tristan to believe. The only way the River Caldera got out of the conflict looking righteous was if Hadrid was a degenerate monster. Arguing any other angle required Eve’s sister to be naive or stupid. The only other perspective was that Hadrid had been genuinely kind, which was not how Elder River wanted to paint him. Elder River was actually acting a lot like an angry father-in-law.

The biggest flaw with these theories was Hadrid himself. He was a very unpleasant man. It was possible he had different standards for women or he was genuinely lonely and Eve’s sister filled that spot. Whatever the explanation was, Tristan did not really care, quite the opposite actually. He was glad Hadrid’s happiness came at Elder River’s distress.

Eve seemed to see the dilemma in her own logic. She started looking into her memories and organizing her thoughts. Tristan did not care what conclusion she came to, but one thing was for sure. Her kindness had to come from somewhere, and it definitely did not come from Elder River.

Clive started handing out food. It was a kind of vegetable soup with some kind of dried and powdered material that thickened the broth. The soup was unseasoned, but still palatable. As most of the materials came from the boxes of food, they had hardly touched their supplies. After a few spurts of small talk they decided who would take watch.

Eve would be first as she claimed not to be tired, followed by Bruce, Tristan and finally Clive. He went last because it would allow him to cook breakfast. William refused to take a watch as it was beneath him. He claimed his senses were sharp enough to pick up anything that could pose a threat to him. It was a sentiment that Tristan strongly doubted, he had seen water and dark elementals sneak up on a whole party of warriors.

Bruce handed Eve an hourglass that would pour for two hours, before everyone started heading to bed. The bunks had been built into the wall, otherwise they would have pushed them away from the wall. Tristan fell asleep quickly in the bunk farthest from the fire. He was not sure why but he felt more comfortable there. The only person further away was William, but he had a dark kern, so the further he was from light the better.

While he was asleep he had an odd dream. Though by dream standards, it was likely normal. Tristan was holding a hammer. Runes ran down the handle and the entire thing was designed like some kind of musical instrument. The grip at the base of the handle had a guard made of strings like those of a guitar or lyre. It felt right in his hand.

Despite the weight which would be over fifty pounds, judging by the amount of metal. A ghost crab came charging at him and he struck it. He could feel inside the crabs body, there was something magnetic inside. Tristan felt the specks of metal move at unbelievable speeds toward the head. He was surprised, living creatures had iron in their bodies. The damaged crab, fell to the side.

Another step forward. Tristan had no idea where he was going, but he was in a hurry to get there. Another shape charged at him, and he raised his weapon in response. A child, a little girl was hugging his leg. She had his black hair and golden eyes. It took a moment to recognize her. In real life her eyes were crimson, like her mothers. Like his had been, before his kern broke and the color bled into his irises.

Hammer raised, he looked down at the little girl, she was hugging him exactly like Helen had, “I miss you.”

Tristan growled and threw the hammer aside. This was something that could have been. Should have been. It never would be, the fire that had been kindled by the hammer’s aura died. He realized this was a dream and he was done with it. Too bad he couldn’t wake himself up. Well, he had heard that pinching oneself would work.

He pinched his arm and nothing, which should not have been surprising. Tristan was dreaming and his mental arm was not attached to the nerves in his real arm. What could he do to make himself react. He thought for a moment, before getting an idea. But before he did anything, Tristan looked at the golden eyed version of his sister. If she really had a metal kern then he would need to take care of her.

She would be ostracized, Shadow Fist would most likely exiled, and Helen would be labeled as a damaged product. Tristan mentally dubbed his sister as Tris, and tried to look for something to care about. He would need to take her and run and what he wanted was some emotion to drive him to do it. Tristan nodded, he would not help because they were siblings, he would help because they were in similar circumstances and he knew the best way out.

Tristan took one more look at the hammer. It had an addictive almost musical effect on his mind, but it was just a really heavy hammer at the end of the day. He needed to wake up. This time Tristan used his flinch reflex and poked himself in the eye.

Fortunately it was just a dream, or he would have lost the eye. As it was his eyes snapped open and he jerked. William jerked around to stare at Tristan. He hurriedly closed the bag with the payment in it and glared at him. He had a cold expression and his hand drifted to his knives. Tristan realized he had better start acting or he would be killed.

He rolled over in his bed and started breathing heavily. Unfortunately, Tristan actually had to keep his eyes closed, as a tier three assassin type warrior could definitely tell when someone was peeking. No footsteps could be heard, however the noise of metal boxes moving made a slight noise. The temperature in the room dropped slightly as the cool air was let inside. The box was never moved back, and Tristan could not be sure that William had really left.

So he waited for around thirty minutes, before sitting up and inspecting the doorway. All the crates of food were moved aside and the door was left open. Tristan frowned, William had just abandoned them.