A Feast That Could've Been

"Could've been worse," Rhea said as she led Arcelius to one of the rooms set aside for him in the village hall. They were on the second floor. "You could've burned down the village to make a point but seeing how you didn't do that then you really are foreign and strange. "

Arcelius raised a brow, "You've said that exact same line of you realizing I am very strange and foreign for like, the fifth time today."

Rhea smiled as she opened a wooden door, revealing the room inside. "You are strange. Very strange. I've never seen the elders get so speechless. And the look on their faces, ha! Priceless."

"You had the exact same look." Arcelius said, neutral.

Rhea blushed, for the first time since they met.

"Well... your magic. It was different from what I know. Flames of gold of such size and strength. You could've killed half of us to prove your point that you killed a servant of Corruption, but you didn't."

Arcelius frowned. Many villagers had said the same thing about him, but in whispers and hushed voices. None dared to tell him this directly, none except Rhea who had been repeating herself for quite a while now.

"Why is it you people are convinced that I would've just destroyed your village and murder everyone?" Arcelius asked, genuinely confused.

"Isn't that what Casters do? Destroy and kill to prove a point, or to right an insult?" Rhea answered. Her tone was serious, as if she was challenging him.

"No. That's not how Magic Users should be. Those powers they wield, they're meant for good and must therefore be used for good, not wanton violence." Arcelius declared, frowning.

"The spell you showed. It burned and it destroyed. An entire field of grass, bush, and tree, all gone in an instant. Tell me, how is that meant for good?" Rhea countered.

"I asked for a patch of land that would be turned into a field in the future. Why? Not only because it's safest, but also, I can help you people by burning it. I burned it to make the soil richer and better for cultivation. Is that not benefit? Is that not good?" Arcelius said.

Rhea went silent and pondered.

Arcelius shook his head in disappointment and shrugged.

"If Magic Users, or Casters as you call them, are really these brutes who go about murdering people because they can, then there is indeed something wrong with this world."

With that, he walked inside and closed the door behind him. He looked around his room. There was a bed of fur and hay against the wall. A small table and a small chair sat near the door. And the floor was carpeted with the skin of a boar, its head gaping at the door. A small window allowed the cold wind in.

There was a bucket of water as well, he'd use that eventually.

A torch was attached to the wall, glowing softly with orange light. The sun was setting outside, plastering the sky and clouds with orange light.

Aside from the palisades that wrapped around the village and its location upon a flat hilltop, the place wasn't anything remarkable. Rather, it was strange. It was a big village with many thatched houses, their own smithy, and large pens where they kept most of their livestock. Dirt roads branched out from the three wells in the middle of the village, giving it a sort of chaotic organization that served the village well.

Speaking of the large pens, there were pigs, cows, and chickens separated between the pens. But it seemed like they seldom let the animals out to graze, instead feeding them with bales of hay all day.

He had no time to ask the elders or Rhea why that was so. They had hurriedly ushered him inside the village as soon as he proved that the fires he cast would only burn the land he wanted it to.

'I wonder how Mr. Wormy and Ms. Crock are doing.' It didn't sit right with Arcelius that he had to leave his companions behind. Maybe he understood, slightly, that the villagers weren't too keen on wild creatures walking around their homes, but the two had proven themselves far from being wild.

At least in the traditional sense.

Arcelius sighed as he laid down on his bed. His ragged tunic wasn't the most comfortable, but it did keep him somewhat warm. The wind blew cold after all.

He closed his eyes and napped. He was supposed to meet with the elders later in the evening for dinner. It was going to be a feast, or so they said. Why they were holding a feast was beyond him.

It didn't sit right with him. How they seemed to fear him for being able to use magic. Back during his time, magic casters were seen as heroes by all. They were warriors, defenders, and heralds of good and right. Magic was used to do good, to help, and to create.

But maybe this was a perspective he failed to see, or rather, did not accept.

He had so many questions, yet it felt like he had so little time.

He shook his mind from these thoughts as sleep took over. He's been here for barely a day, there was no use in him fussing about time.

He had just begun.

His nap was short but good. He probably would have slept longer if Rhea hadn't knocked on his door. Regardless, he got up and washed his face with the bucket of water.

There were merry sounds coming from outside. Music and song could be heard with the laughter of both the old and young mixing.

"Ready? Woah. You're wet." Rhea said as Arcelius opened the door, hair dripping wet.

"I don't exactly have a towel. And my tunic has seen enough." Arcelius explained.

"I'll get you something downstairs. Come. The feast can't begin without our honored guest." Rhea said eagerly.

"I don't exactly feel honored. You're doing this out of fear." Arcelius said seriously.

"Maybe. You're a person to be feared, Arcelius. You possess immense power. It's only natural for the weak to praise and accommodate the strong, is it not?"

Arcelius wanted to return, but they had wasted a lot of time already. He'd lecture her another time.

The two began to walk down the stairs, the sound and music of the feast growing louder after each step. The smell of cooked, spiced food wafted between his nostrils.

And his stomach growled, loudly.

"Someone hasn't eaten in a while." Rhea teased.

They were soon inside the main hall. It was packed almost to the brim with no discrimination with who could attend. There were tables full of meat, veggies, and soups. There were drinks, ale, and even juice.

Men and women mingled while children played. Musicians played their instruments as the crowd sang songs he did not know.

But the tunes were catchy and merry. The night seemed to be a warm one. And Arcelius was more than happy to welcome it.

They were soon approached by Frun who didn't seem to be enjoying the festivities as much.

"Honored one! Welcome! I.. uhm, I must apologize. You see, the people were excited. We haven't had a feast in so long and.. uh, they were.." The man stuttered and trailed off. Arcelius could see the fear in his eyes.

'These people really do fear me.' Arcelius thought.

He placed his hand over Frun's shoulder as a gesture of peace and calm. The man flinched but was quick to accept his reassurance.

"It's fine. I am the one who should be apologizing. I intrude into your village and ask for hospitality as if I'm someone of great import." Arcelius paused, biting his lip. "I was, once, but that never stopped me from knowing when is too much and when is too little."

Frun's tense shoulders relaxed, "Thank you, Honored Arcelius," He pointed at the largest table beyond the crowd," Please follow me, the other elders are waiting at the best table."

The crowd parted as they left, many falling silent at the sight of the tall, muscled caster walking by. It didn't help that he was still winning a rugged tunic which, to be fair, didn't cover him all that well.

Grun and Duen were sat side by side at the table. A fat, roasted pig sat in the middle with plates, spoons, and forks made of wood around it. There was a cleaver stuck atop its head.

"Arcelius!" Gran was the first to greet him. His face was red, and a big smile was plastered all over his face.

"Brother!" Duen stood to restrain his brother but was ignored. Gran grabbed Arcelius by the shoulder and ushered him to sit.

Arcelius sat himself down without much resistance. He wasn't there to dampen the mood, but the feast had died down regardless. All of a sudden, their eyes fixed on him.

"Come! This feast is dedicated to you, our honored guest," Gran said as he bit off a chunk of pork from his hand. "Though the ale is a bit stale, it's better than nothing!"

Seeing how carefree one of their elders acted towards Arcelius seemed to open up the rest of the attendees. Music and song rang loud and clear. Cheers erupted and many continued on their merry making.

But one thing was made clear about this. Not only did they fear Arcelius, but they were actively ignoring him as best as they could. The rest of the villagers at least.

Arcelius was right to assume that Rhea was someone important for she sat beside him at the table along with the elders.

"So, you say that you arrived here yesterday. No clothes, no companions, no possessions of any kind. Along with that, no recollection of how or why you found yourself in our lands?" Duen asked as he sliced a chunk of roasted pig.

"That is correct," Arcelius said, "Though I arrived here with no companions. I did make some along the way."

The elders looked at each other.

"Your bonded animals?" Frun said.

"Bonded?" Arcelius said, he was no beast binder. He had the ability to be, but he hadn't used it since he ascended.

Hence why it never occurred to him that Mr. Wormy and Ms. Crock bonded with him. Because he didn't do anything to bind them to his soul.

"So, they're not? Or are you familiar with Animal Bonding?" Frun asked further.

Arcelius shook his head, "I'm familiar and no, they're not my bonds. But they accompanied me at their own volition."

This seemed to bewilder the elders.

"Torches are the only light sources you people have I'm guessing?" It was Arcelius' turn to ask.

"Yes. If you're wondering why we don't have oil lamps or lanterns and such, we're not a city nor are we near a town. We are a village isolated to the east." Duen answered. He seemed more comfortable now compared to when he first heard and saw Arcelius' ability as a magic user, or caster.

Silence befell the table for a short while.

"So, your battle with the... Mantapus," Duen began again, apprehension in his voice, but not directed at Arcelius, "You fought it with your magic and claimed to have killed it. To top it all off, you burned it."

Arcelius nodded.

"We saw smoke rising a few hours ago. We thought it was another lightning strike, but we saw it coming from within the Vile Marsh." Frun added.

"But! you bear no scars of battle. I'm sorry for asking, but how?" Gran said, trying to keep himself respectful despite his drunkenness.

"I used healing magic. I mean, if I didn't, I wouldn't have gotten back onto my feet this quickly."

Gran spat his drink and coughed. Duen and Fran stared at Arcelius with eyes wide and mouths slightly agape. Rhea was frozen in shock, disbelief splattered on her face.

"You... you can also do healing magic?" There was hesitation in Duen's voice, but excitement lingered underneath.

Arcelius, confused by their reactions, simply nodded.

"T-then..." Duen stuttered, standing up as if to declare something.

"Duen, wait! We must finish this feast first, then make our requests known later." Frun stood, grabbing Duen by the shoulder and pulling him down to sit.

"I..." Duen's eyes met Frun's then Arcelius'. "...yes. I apologize. Please forgive me for my behavior."

The man bowed his head and Arcelius was more confused and suspicious than ever.

They weren't bad people. He sensed no malicious intent from any of them. If he did, he wouldn't have been so keen with their feast.

Arcelius decided to put aside the conversation for now. He was still healing, and his stomach was growling loud and clear.

He eyed the pork with anticipation. He was more than able to eat the entire thing in one sitting but doing so would've been rude.

But just as he was about to take a chunk, shouts of alarm rang out from outside. A sentry burst through the door, chest heaving and sweaty. His eyes were racked with fear.

"What's going on?" Duen stood, followed by the other elders.

Arcelius stood as well, his senses now pushed to working overtime despite their current weakness. He sensed it. Large concentrations of sullied magic were looming just outside the palisades.

More abominations.