Chapter 79. Learn ya to read.

  “Lakora is a disgusting snake. A backstabber to the Siblings,” Xantrilea spoke with pride, standing a bit straighter. “You should be ashamed to even speak her name. Do you follow her as well?” she asked looking up at Sid. Now that the hood was down something about him was resonating. Familiar.

  “I play for no one. I follow the cry of the wild.” Sid answered

  Abram scoffed at the remark. “Sid yer her warrior, and dont be saying ye follow the cry of the wild it be sounding stupid as hell,”

  Xantrilexa’s face twisted—as if both had just slapped her. “The both of you follow the snake.”

  “I don’t play for any!” Sid's voice came out layered—Abram and Xantrilexa looking up at him. “Abram, do you know where the Blue-Boa’s are?” he was done wasting time.

  “I do. But I don’t know if I’m comfortable taking someone like you.” Xantrilexa chirped.

  “We be collecting Arieo befores we does anything,” Abrams voice could never be as layered or aggressive as Sid’s, but it got the attention it deserved. “Ant, me appreciates ye revitalizing me or whatever that was ye did,” he pointed at her chest. “and fer showing me yer milk-milks.”

  Her twisted look of confusion snapped to pure fury—she lunged for his neck—Abram was grinning the whole way down. Her armors rattled as they hit the ground. “Filthy – disgraceful – little toad,” she cursed him with every hit, lighter skin would have been blooming—Abram was chuckling after each slap.

  Fenrir was snapping with excitement. Hopping around. Tail swishing like an unstable shadow. He contilnued looking at Sid for leadership.

  “Enough!” It was a growl that wilted the small patch of grass at his feet. All three of them: Fenrir—such a good shadowy-boy—sat respectively. Xantrilexa held Abram by the collar—free and cocked back. Abram glared at Sid for interrupting—but all three of them looked for the predator behind the snap.

  “Abram, I will honor a request because you saved my boy,” he lifted the pouch for a beat, before turning his good eye over Xantrilexa. “Xantrilexa, I don’t know you and I don’t care who you play for,” he loomed over her like a dark cloud—she could only look into his eye—it was cold stare, like a cornered animal ready to bite. “You should reconsider though.” Sid took a deep, long pull of the wind. Then another—that was definitely him. “Come on Abram let’s go.” He looked at Xantrilexa one last time and turned. Fenrir hopping before pacing at his side.

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “Alright dearie, we should probably keep up with Sid, we wanna be on his side.” He gently tapped the hand clutching his collar—when she let go he fell back with a light thud.

  Xantrilexa climbed off him—stepping on his chest as she stepped over. “Seriously, Abram was it?” she looked him dead in his swirling eyes. “I was saving you’re life. I can’t generate a Health-Blessing with these armors it will deflect. It wasn’t a peep show. Its risky for me to do the Blessing, any player that hunts Crusaders could be roaming the valley.” Her tone was endearing and desperate in equal measure. Her eyes though held the plea of a beggar.

  “Maybe that be why yer armor is ‘posed to be small.” He crook an eyebrow with the response, giving it a wiggle.

  “You’re a pig.” A foot found his shoulder as he was trying to a stand and she kicked him over—he chuckled hitting the ground.

  Xantrilexa looked at Sid in his coat of scale—unable to see Fenrir anymore—he was literally padding at his side—she had an untrained eye. Unsure why. She followed. Did this man resonate with the Crusaders Quest? Was that the familiarity she was feeling?

  Abram managed pace—right with Sid. “So, big guy, ye don’ts know how to reads,” he looked up—Sid’s eye was flat same with his expression. “Well that’s alright Sid,” he clapped him on the back—that broke the invisible stare down with nothing. “Me can learns ya to reads.” Abram had no right being that happy about reading—from what Sid’s heard its not that great.

  Xantrilexa even chirp with a response. “Do you know the symbols?” Sid then looked at his other side. “If you know all twenty-eight and the correct pattern just practice,”

  Abram stopped for a beat. “Ant, what the hell good is that gonna do for him?”

  “Its repetition. Muscle memory. The more he says it the more he’ll familiarize himself with the sounds,” she looked up at Sid—he was thinking about it, he did know the symbols, but was the pattern correct. “then you say them backwards, …you need to sound it out backwards too. Just practice that repeatedly. After a while small words will just become recognizable, more practice, more reading. More recognizable words,” she leaned forward—peeking around Sid’s chest. “Where did you learn to read?”

  Abram thought of that awful day. “From a gods damned book. Filthy thing with paper and a cover.”

  Xantrilexa burst with laughter—real belly rolling laughter. “You did not learn to read from a book.”

  “Ant, a long time ago things be done with paper. Sorcerers literally had to travel with their books of spells, adding new pages of skill. There wasn’t always a System that categorized players by Stars,” he paused until she looked at him. “That be something the dirty Snake created. Her System is laced with memories. Those who play against the gods hear the bell,” he then looked up at Sid who kept the pace. “Sid here, he is her warrior. He goin to be the one who returns the balance. She got a plan for him.”

  Sid looked down on Abram as he continued to rant a bunch of bull-crap. Shaking his head at the thought of him doing anything for the game.

  Abram caught his eye. “We just need to follow the plan big guy. We needs to get you all caught up. I sees you talked with Scarlett. Did she help you wake?”

  She did. She had done something anyways. He could feel it within. The sickness was heavier. The rot was hotter. And his fury never subside. Whatever it was she had done? He was ready to push back. Sid would not be a contestant at the table. He would be the fire below.