Chapter 82 – Return

Sal and the others walked in single file through the forest, leaving the remnants of their camp far in the distance. Erika hadn’t spoken a word to anyone through the night, which had set the mood for their entire group. Ioseph kept to himself with the tablet, and Rochelle had sat alongside Sal and Brophy while they talked well into the night.

Brophy had gone through all the different materials he had collected over the years from the dungeons and remarked that he foolishly kept only the ones that looked interesting. Where most kids collected rocks, the Super Rookie had collected valuable dungeon materials. Sal was curious about all of them, especially as he didn’t recognize any of them by name alone. When Rochelle had fallen asleep with the others, Brophy reiterated his eagerness to have Sal craft a solution for him. It was somewhat overbearing, and Sal had to push back a little on it and asked him to manage his expectations once again.

When Brophy offered to start teaching him the breathing method, Sal refused. He didn’t want to deal with any of that until he knew he could deliver on the commission. Brophy deflated a bit after that, but thanked Sal for his consideration before they both turned in for the night. The cleanup of the camp hadn’t taken long, and when Prestige appeared before them, they were ready to get out of the camp and never look back. Sal was happy that the remains of the tower were still in place, as it felt like a small monument to what they had accomplished out in the Reclaimed Zone.

When he had appraised it, he was delighted to see that it was still recognized as the Black Oak Tower, albeit at four percent condition. It was a few storms away from being destroyed, but Sal was still proud of how it had managed to withstand the relentless explosions. He wondered whether it would survive the elements and grow back into its original form, but the logic in his brain told him that it was highly unlikely.

A half hour later, they arrived at the white tents, and Sal sighed in relief. It finally felt like it was all over and that he had survived the hellish excursion. Three weeks of camping with strangers had been tough, but training daily and fighting off ambushers was a whole new category of exhaustion. He kept up his exercise routine and his illusion practice, and only felt minor improvements on the illusion side of things.

Maybe it was the stress or just how action-packed his days were, but he didn’t suffer from a single nightmare the entire time he was training. It made him grateful because of their sleeping quarters. He didn’t imagine that the group would be filled with confidence if they learned he was terrified of demons.

“Have you forgiven me yet?” Chatfield teased from a fold-up chair in front of the tents. He clutched a huge cigar between his fingers while his feet were resting in a large bucket of water.

Sal took one look at the leisurely appearance and a swell of annoyance bubbled to the surface. He didn’t have time to make his thoughts known as Chatfield got to his feet and rested the cigar into a small cup holder in the arm of the chair.

“Heard you lot were one of the groups finishing early. You might be relieved to know that Blathnaid’s group finished quickly too.”

His smile told Sal that he wanted them both in the workshop as soon as possible. That said, Sal was relieved to know that Blathnaid had managed to get through the training exercise.

Chatfield glanced past Sal to inspect the rest of the group. “Guessing that you didn’t make too many friends on this outing? Doesn’t matter. You don’t need to love each other to get the job done. From what I’ve heard, you lot are quite a resourceful bunch. Can’t say that we’ve ever had a team erect a fortified keep before in this sort of scenario, let alone chest-bump three golems to death.”

Prestige cleared her throat as she turned around to look at the team. “As I’ve already told you all, you’ve passed this training exercise. Your individual results will be mailed to you as well as your overall team grade. Captain Chatfield will be taking you from here, and I will see you all next week for our tower run. Rest up and reflect on everything you’ve learned. I have high expectations of this group and hope to see you exceed them.”

In a dramatic burst of light, Prestige disappeared from sight, leaving all of them to stare at the space she had just occupied.

Chatfield’s whistle was enough to draw their attention back to him. He hiked his thumb over his shoulder at the interior of the tent behind him. “If any of you need healing or are feeling particularly hungry, you can rest up or eat here. Alternatively, if you just want to get back to the dorms to have showers and a fresh uniform, the train station has a service every two hours. Next one should be heading off in around fifteen minutes.”

Erika moved toward the train station, which resulted in Rochelle, Ioseph, and Brophy all entering the tent at the same time.

Chatfield noticed the tension between them and chuckled. “Guessing that she used them as pawns?”

His question was directed at Sal, but it was in such a matter-of-fact tone accompanied by genuine mirth that Sal wondered whether rogue Controllers were a common occurrence.

“Just me. Shattered both my forearms and broke two ribs,” Sal answered as he moved to follow Erika toward the train.

He had too much to do to wait around at the tent with the others.

Chatfield’s expression darkened, and he held out an arm to stop Sal. “She was told specifically not to do that to you.” Chatfield’s voice was devoid of humor as he looked at Sal. “Your Mythcrafter ability is incredibly precious and the last thing we need is for you to get injured out in the field. Erika was instructed to protect you throughout the exercise.”

His voice held an edge that Sal didn’t recognize. The visor was secured with the revolver in the small metal case, so he had no help in reading Chatfield’s emotions.

Sal laughed humorlessly. “There are a lot of things you didn’t tell me. This whole exercise was a surprise that I could have prepared for.”

Chatfield shook his head. “Adaptability is better trained when you have limited resources. You would have dragged every piece of equipment known to man if you had been briefed about this. That isn’t the issue, though. If Miss Clifton isn’t abiding by the instructions we’re giving her, I’m not confident in her ability to navigate a tower with your group.”

Sal shrugged as he moved away from Chatfield. He was tired and annoyed. If Erika had been given a secret mission to protect him, then it just meant that they didn’t trust him enough to look after himself. It felt like a slap in the face after the ordeal Sal had gone through in the dungeon with Chatfield and Upgrade. He gave Chatfield a shake of his head as he passed.

“If you were the Controller in my group, and you had her powers, would you have used me like that?”

Chatfield nodded without hesitation. “I would have made you transform into your better armor, but yes. If it saved lives and would only result in some minor injuries for you, that’s the judgment call I would have made. However, there’s a lot more to consid—”

“Then I guess there’s nothing more to say about it!” Sal smiled and stretched his arms out wide. “Erika was apparently just acting as a Controller should. I hope you’ll let my parents know, when I’m killed by her, that it was a tactical decision. That’ll warm their hearts.”

Chatfield didn’t respond to that as Sal left in the direction of the train station.

Sal’s anger had reached a boiling point. Chatfield had essentially confirmed his fears. People getting injured was apparently a reasonable risk in strategy. Intentionally getting someone hurt was somehow also a part of strategy.

Was he being naive for thinking that people could work together as a team and come out unscathed? He didn’t know for sure, but he was certain of one thing. He never wanted to feel that helpless again. Did that mean that he needed to be a Controller to be safe from persecution in the team-based battles? Barry and Divinity were both Controllers. Were they going to make decisions that would put Supports into the line of fire?

Gritting his teeth, Sal realized that he was feeling sorry for himself. He got hurt, and it was painful as fuck…and he was just lashing out at the people around him. His Mythcrafter was giving him a lot of preferential treatment, even to the point of Erika being instructed to protect him during the training exercise.

He knew deep in his heart that he wasn’t having as rough a time as others, and it was ridiculous for him to feel persecuted when he had so many benefits thrown his way. Hell, he was in the top three in the entire year because of his friendship with Divinity and the power he had created during the Skill Registration.

Rochelle had barely a handful of Q-Cred, and she was able to save lives. That alone was enough to make Sal pause in his thoughts. There was an inequality for sure, but he wasn’t a victim of it. He was hurt because he was used by someone, in a way that ultimately resulted in them winning the battle. Chatfield had even said that Erika’s decision was the right judgment call, yet Prestige and the ethereal woman had criticized the action.

Sal processed his thoughts as he tried to find some form of answer. He was exhausted, hungry, and thirsty. He should have just gone into the tent.

Erika walked ahead of him, and Sal decided to get the first obstacle out of the way. He had a lot of things to consider, but she was at the top of his checklist.

“Erika!” Sal shouted from behind her, causing her to turn around abruptly.

Her shoulders tensed as she got into a fighting stance, and her eyes turned gold. Of course she’d assume that he was here for revenge. Brophy was right; she didn’t trust anyone.

Sal continued walking toward her, grateful for the fact that she didn’t restrict his movements again. “I just want to talk about what you did to me yesterday.”

Erika didn’t so much as blink at the sentence. She continued to stare at Sal as though waiting for him to strike.

Sal sighed as he gestured at the train station in the distance. “Let’s walk and talk. I don’t want to be stuck here for another two hours.”

Erika’s shoulders relaxed, and Sal wondered whether she verified his intentions with her ability. Either way, he was grateful to see that she wasn’t immediately going on the attack.

“What is there to talk about?” Erika’s response was stiff, but Sal ignored it as he walked alongside her.

“I wanted to apologize for threatening to remove your power. I wouldn’t ever do that. I was in so much pain that I wanted to kill you, so the words came out in an attempt to keep you out of my head.” Sal spoke earnestly as he continued to stare straight ahead.

“Chatfield mentioned that you were given instructions to keep me safe, so I guess I wanted to apologize for that too. I don’t want to be a burden to people.”

He couldn’t see her reaction to his words, but her voice changed in pitch. “Apology accepted. I should have acclimatized you to the power before using it on you. I saw how it made you feel, and it was wrong of me to subject you to that without warning.”

Sal winced ever so slightly. It was an admission of guilt, but there was no sign of an apology coming from her.

“If I’m being honest, Erika, I don’t particularly enjoy being on a team with you, but I need to rely on you to get through the tower.” Sal left the sentence hanging in the hopes that she would respond and give him some modicum of reassurance. It never came.

They continued to walk in silence until they reached the station. The train had yet to arrive, so Sal paced awkwardly around the platform until it appeared. Erika chose that moment to respond to him.

“Well, if I’m being honest, I don’t rank you as a peer at all, Salvatore. You have capability with Crafting, but you lack all desire to join the battlefront. I can’t rely on you when I can see your thoughts. If I hadn’t taken over your body, you would have run away or retreated from that battle. You’re not a coward, and I know you’ve worked hard to improve yourself. It’s just not enough for what I need and most certainly not deserving of the rank you currently possess.”

Erika sounded like she was reading a recipe. It was devoid of all emotion.

Sal was stunned. How long had she been harboring that resentment? He looked straight at her and gestured at the case in his hand. “I’m trying my best. I made this so I could be useful in battle. It’s going to take some time to adjust to the pace, and then I’ll be more reliable.”

Erika shook her head as she pointed at the case. “No, you made those so you could hide in the background and take shots from a safe distance. You’re lying to yourself if you think otherwise. Gallant offered to take you on dungeon runs, which would be the absolute dream of any student in this academy, but it fills you with dread. A single dungeon clear with Chatfield and Upgrade doesn’t turn you into a Hero. A few weeks of running around a forest with Gallant doesn’t turn you into a Hero. It takes a lot more determination and effort to reach that level.” She pointed at Sal’s head, and Sal noticed her eyes were glowing again.

“Even now, I hear you second-guessing every single thing in your mind. You’ll never be able to make the harsh judgments required to ensure your team comes back alive. Test or no test, I had to make a decision, which we both know was the correct one.”

Sal shook his head and turned away from Erika, content to just wait for the train in silence. He didn’t need to get lectured by her, of all people.

“If I had your ability, I would replicate every powerful ability around me and add it to my arsenal. You could be the greatest Hero of all time and equip yourself with the most incredible gear that can be made. Can you imagine how frustrating it is to see you getting worked up over a wooden shed or getting hit a few times? Why don’t you have a Healing ability on hand whenever that happens? A defensive ability that will turn your body as hard as diamond? You’re literally surrounded by a free catalogue of abilities and instead you spend your time hiding away in the workshop making trinkets and excuses.”

Erika voiced her frustrations, and Sal didn’t have a single word of retort for her.

He continued to stand on the platform and eventually saw the train approaching from the distance.

Erika sighed as she shook her head. “If you actually want to clear the tower, then I’d suggest you take a long hard look at yourself in the mirror. You could solo a tower if you really wanted to, but the only thing holding you back is yourself. I can’t see the future like your friend can, but I understand the human mind. If you keep running from your fears, you’ll never get anywhere. If taking a few hits from a golem makes you realize that you need to be stronger, then I’m more than happy to deliver that lesson.”

Sal turned around to Erika as the train pulled into the station. “Did you let me get hit on purpose?”

Erika ignored him as she approached the nearest carriage door. Just when he thought that she wasn’t going to give him an answer, she turned on the step and rolled her eyes.

“Of course I did. If I had my way, I would have let them keep hitting you until you finally stopped acting like a little bitch.” She pointed at the farther end of the train. “Now, if you don’t mind. I’d rather not hear your stupid thoughts for a while.”

Sal’s jaw tightened as he turned around and marched to the next available carriage. He couldn’t believe the audacity of her. She had let him get hurt because she thought he was capable of so much more. It was infuriating to think that he had been used as a pawn in more ways than one.

Erika was actively manipulating him so that he’d use more of his powers. All his concerns about autonomy and agency were thrown to the side as Sal seethed in the almost empty cabin. A few other students walked down the aisle, but Sal couldn’t even look at them.

She was goading him, and he knew that he should ignore her…but Sal wasn’t feeling rational. He was angry. No matter what thoughts ran through his head, Sal was convinced of only one thing.

He needed to prove her wrong.