27 Armor

If Rayvad had been cold and distant when he had first met Brightise, that was nothing compared to how he was now. He was not hostile by any means, but he was back to treating both Brightise and Clober like two kids who had set fire to his garden. He did not blame them for not knowing any better, but he did not encourage any social interactions with them either.

Brightise believed that the only reason he was still with them was because he saw their trip to Lake Falad as a short mission he could complete successfully. He needed that sort of distraction and validation after failing to save his brother's life, and Brightise needed his guidance, so she didn't question his silent decision to keep going one day after Syd's death.

Syd's horse had survived their encounter with the Fire Demon, so they had to drag it along them on the way. Clober could not ride a horse by herself yet, but even if she could, Brightise would never have suggested that someone ride Syd's horse so soon after his tragic passing.

As Rayvad led them silently through the dense vegetation of Forest Kastlam, Brightise wondered who else would become devastated upon hearing about Syd's death. Rayvad had told her that Slorigans never knew their mother or half-siblings, but he had never said anything about their father. She had to assume that they had one, and considering that he had not been in Linvas, he had to either live up close to River Draban or be dead.

Brightise dared not ask Rayvad about him. What if he was dead and Syd had been his only remaining family? Brightise doubted that Rayvad had many friends, at least not the kind of friends that one would call brothers in the absence of a real, blood-related one.

At least Brightise still had Clober. Morral's fate might be uncertain, but she still had her little sister to lean to.

She was feeling so sorry for...

Suddenly, Rayvad pulled his horse's reins and forced it to an abrupt stop. Before Brightise knew what had happened, he had jumped off his horse and walked over to her with hard, solid steps.

"Stop it," he told her through gritted teeth, looking up at her on her saddle. "Stop pitying me."

"I don't-"

"Stop! I can hear you pitying me from a 300-kilometer radius."

"I'm sorry, I-"

"No!" he interrupted her again. "No apologies. I don't need them. My brother died, okay? He died fighting a creature he couldn't beat. He died a brave death. A warrior's death. My only regret is that I didn't die bravely trying to save him, and I have you to thank for that. Yes, you saved my life. I owe you my life. It might not be a great one right now, but I still owe you, so I'm going to take you to your destination if it kills me. But I'm not going to do it if you keep staring at me like I'm an injured puppy. I do not need your pity. Is that clear?"

"Yes."

"Yes!"

Rayvad turned in surprise towards Clober, who had answered eagerly.

"I did not..." he stammered. "I was not yelling at you, little one."

Clober blinked innocently. "I know. But it's clear."

Rayvad looked around him uncomfortably, all his anger and frustration seeping out of his body as small raindrops started falling from the sky.

"Look!" Clober yelled. "Rain!"

Rayvad looked up at the small cloud above their heads with a bitter expression. "Too little, too late," he muttered.

The light drizzle lasted for days, as if the clouds wanted to really rub it in that there was no one around that could control them now.

By the fourth day, Clober started complaining about her damp clothes. Brightise didn't stop her. If Rayvad didn't want them to walk on eggshells around him out of respect for his brother's death, then it was only fair that they should be free to complain about trivial things again.

"My shirt is wet," Clober whined.

"Everyone's shirt is wet," Brightise pointed out.

"Rayvad is not wearing one," Clober said with a pout.

Brightise didn't know whether she should laugh or feel uncomfortable about that remark. Suddenly, she felt curious though.

"How come you don't?" she asked Rayvad before she could regret it. "And why don't you wear any armor either?"

"It's a matter of pride and confidence. Slorigans don't wear armor, because wearing armor is basically admitting that you need protection. That you are that bad a fighter that you would allow someone to get this close to your skin. It's a disgrace to need armor. We believe that if you are not a good enough warrior, you deserve to die. Death is more honorable than being saved by a breast plate. Only kids that are still in training are allowed armor."

Brightise swallowed slowly. "Do the Amazons believe the same?"

Rayvad scoffed at the comparison. "Of course not!"

Before Brightise could exhale in relief, they heard the booming sound of a thunder in the distance.