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Touch of Fate

Reincarnated due to the interference of fate, Mike tries to survive in a world of magic and monsters. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - Michael Rasmussen, a.k.a. Mike, lived an ordinary and uneventful life, until he was killed in an accident. Surprisingly, or perhaps as expected, he found himself face to face with a goddess of reincarnation. Due to the unusual aspects of his death, Mike could no longer be reborn in his own world. So, he ended up in a fantasy realm of magic, monsters, and a video game-like skill system. Exciting as this new life was to a long time fantasy fan, his arrival has set many things in motion. His very presence is warping the destiny of the entire world and disrupting the path laid out by the world's divinities. Trapped in a growing web of competing powers who take note of his actions, Mike can only depend on his own strength. He must fight for his place in this world or risk becoming a victim to their machinations. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - This is a novel I am writing for fun and practice. Its also the first I've posted online. I know it will probably be a bit rough, but I thank you in advance for giving it a chance. If you would like to support my work, please feel free to buy me a coffee at https://ko-fi.com/mobius_factor

mobius_factor · แฟนตาซี
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372 Chs

Airing of Grievances

[Well, this is awkward.] Mike thought to himself as the minutes of silence continued to tick on by. They had moved to a small bedroom upstairs, avoiding Lara's increasingly scandalized questions in the process, but so far Brenden had yet to say a word.

Finally unable to take the tension any longer, he tried to break the ice once more. "So, it seems like you've been pretty busy lately."

The beastman just grunted without really replying. He was sitting on his bed, arms resting on his knees with his hands folded in front of his mouth. Gaze fixed on an empty spot on the floor.

While Mike didn't have a great deal of experience with this kind of thing, it didn't take an expert to see that he was wound up and ready to snap.

He tried again to break his friend out of his shell. "That Lara seems like a real handful. She probably caused by you all sorts of problems, but I can tell that she really respects you too. As far as I can tell, everyone here does."

"What do you want, Mike? Why are you here?" Came the gruff reply.

"...In truth, I didn't come here by choice. I actually did almost get attacked by thieves, and Lara did help scare them off," He had to suppress a wry grin as he continued in a mutter, "although, I'm not exactly fond of her method of doing so."

He shook his head to clear the last few dredges of shameful memories, "Nevertheless, I did want to speak with you. It's been nearly a week since you disappeared on us, and while the others haven't said anything, I think we're all starting to get worried about you."

Brenden shot a glare up at him, anger filled eyes burning a hole in him for a few moments, before he returned to staring at the floor. "I'm fine. There, you've heard it, so you can leave now."

[I'm not really sure what to do here, but I evidently can't let things continue as they are. It's clear he's feeling backed into a corner by something. If I can get him to let it out...]

Mike drew himself up straight, and stared down at the beastman. "Is that it? So you've given up?"

Moving with a speed that was almost impossible to track, Brenden appeared in front of him, slamming him against the wall with one hand gripping his collar. "What in the Hells do you know?! You think you get to judge me just because of some blessing?! That just because you can get stronger so easily, that you're better than me?!"

[He's gotten faster.]

His face was twisted into a snarl, anger clearly the most dominant emotion, but Mike thought he could detect a sort of desperation mingled with sorrow in those eyes. "I've never viewed you as anything besides a friend and comrade. Someone I could trust to watch my back."

Brenden glowered at him. "Really? When was the last time we fought together? When was the last time you trusted me to carry my weight in a fight? Ever since we came to this city, you've been leaving me behind! Admit it! Ever since the fight in Wyrport, you've never thought of me as anything more than baggage! Someone to sit around you and worship your greatness!"

"That's not..." Mike hesitated, remembering Sera's frustration and insecurity, Tal's quiet resignation. He recalled the battle yesterday, and how, rather than bringing them along, he chose to place them in a 'safe' location. It had seemed prudent at the time, considering the risk of kidnapping, but he couldn't quite dismiss the look on Sera's face when he'd left. The look of a person realizing their own powerlessness.

[I had resolved myself to making them stronger, helping them to stand beside me, but as soon as the war broke out I let that fall by the wayside.]

"That's not true..." He finished, but with none of the conviction he'd wished.

Brenden searched his eyes for a moment, although Mike was unwilling to meet his gaze, before finally letting go and returning to his seat with a sigh. "So that's how it is...I guess I should have known, but its still a shock to see it."

"Brenden, I-" Mike started.

"I don't want to hear it!" The beastman cut him off with a growl. "The others might be content to stay in your shadow, clinging to your influence like some kind of parasite, but I can't be! So why don't you just go back to your harem! You can certainly have your fun now that I'm out of the picture!"

White hot anger surged through his mind. A part of him knew that Brenden was just lashing out in his own rage, but that didn't matter to him. He just wanted to return pain for pain.

Face cold and voice echoing with mana that he'd unconsciously invested, he spoke in a dispassionate manner, "So this is your way of coming out from my shadow? Consorting with thieves and criminals? Inheriting the actual title of the King of Thieves and unifying the Almirn underworld? All because some girl got you involved? Do you really think that any of that was your doing? No, you're just half-heartedly going with the flow like you always do. You keep that up, and all you are going to accomplish is getting a lot of people hurt. Like they did yesterday."

"How do you..." Brenden started, before a look of realization passed across his face. "The masked woman, you sent her." He grimaced, teeth audibly grinding in the process. "How long has she been following me?"

"Selene has been watching over you since the day after you left." Mike replied simply, face impassive.

Brenden raised his fist with a roar, as if to strike him. For a moment he held it there, shaking, but then he hesitated as something broke in his eyes. Finally, he sagged. "Ah...All this time...I never managed to do anything on my own, have I?"

Mike felt the anger ebb out of him, leaving him tired and empty. He watched as his friend sat back down on the bed, face in his hands. "I know you probably won't believe me, but the only time she interfered was during the fight against the Tenundians."

The beastman scoffed, "It doesn't matter. You were right. I have been doing this half-heartedly. I never asked to be the King of Thieves, or get involved in territorial acquisitions, but I didn't fight against it either. When one of my subordinates suggested we help the defense forces against the invaders, I didn't even stop to think about the consequences."

His voice took on a hollow cast as he continued. "I led them there, to that hell, and they followed me willingly, never doubting me. They trusted me to protect them in battle, and died believing that they were helping me. Even now, with so many of their fallen comrades filling pauper's graves, they still look at me with hope."

Brenden looked up at him, despair wrought in every line of his face. "Even when I failed to protect my subordinates, they treat me like a hero. How can I go on like this? How can I lead them in battle again, knowing that even more will pay for my hubris? How do I carry the burden of their expectations?"

For a moment, Mike was silent. The words had struck a chord in him, reminding him a bit too much of the worshipful way people had been looking at him when he wore his mask. Like he was their savior come to deliver them from all of their problems.

He also heard the quiet recriminations of a certain dark being calling from the depths of an abyssal pool. One that pointed out his own failures and inadequacies. His own powerlessness to prevent the suffering of the people around him, and his own unwillingness to make the hard choices that were required of him.

[So this is what it looks like from the outside. Kind of ridiculous, now that I think about it.] The more he thought about it, the more he felt relieved of some unnoticed burden. Something that he'd been carrying around without ever realizing it.

"Brenden..." He started uncertainly, before growing in conviction. "You aren't perfect, nor are you all-powerful. No mortal is, and from what I've heard about the gods, I don't think they are either. You are beating yourself up about this failure of yours, but let me ask you this, if you really failed, would we be having this conversation right now?"

The beastman blinked, "What do you..."

"If the gate had fallen, and the Tenundian army had entered the city, do you think we would have the luxury of worrying about the death toll? No, we'd be fighting for our lives, running from the city in ignominy, or laying dead in the streets. And that also goes for everyone who is staying at this inn right now."

Brenden flinched, as if he'd been visibly struck. "But if I had done better...led them better...If I had gone all out from the start, then maybe..."

Mike sighed. "People die in war. Neither you nor I can change that fact. Its something that every man and woman that followed you into battle must have known, but they chose to stand beside you anyway." A sad smile split his face, as he relived the memory of the fight. "In many ways, I'm a little jealous. You've only known these people for a week, and they were ready to lay down their lives because you asked them to. Because they believed in what you were doing. That's not something I've been able to accomplish."

"They were just protecting their homes and families."

"And yet, I didn't see any of the other gangs fighting at the gate. It was only those individuals you led, people that many would see as common criminals, who risked everything to keep us safe from the invaders. You were the one to inspire them." His smile deepened, "Lara was right. You are the real deal."

Brenden stared at him for a few moments, a question forming on his lips, when he was interrupted by a sob.

They both turned to look at the door, where Lara and several others were standing with tears in their eyes. It wasn't clear how long they had been listening, but neither of them had heard the door open. She clasped and unclasped her hands a few times, before running up to Brenden and throwing her arms around his neck.

A small army of beastman children followed her example, mobbing him in a crying tide. Mike observed with some measure of satisfaction that Brenden's face went slack with shock, before morphing into indignation, and finally settling into amusement.

"You're too hard on yourself, kid. I can promise you, that nobody blames you for what happened." A rough looking bear beastman commented from the doorway. Mike vaguely recalled him as being the leader of a rival gang, one that had become a subordinate of Brenden after losing to him.

The erstwhile King of Thieves couldn't bring himself to reply, obviously feeling emotional.

Mike saw this as his cue to leave, and started heading to the door. He had a feeling that the rest of the conversation could wait.

"Mike..." Brenden called, arresting his progress. He looked like he wanted to say more, but didn't seem to know how to start.

"I'll be back." Mike replied to the unasked question. "There were a few dishes on the menu that I still wanted to try."

He left the tavern and started heading to the market district, feeling better about things than he had in a long while. Although, he had to admit, it made him a bit lonesome as well.

Perhaps sensing his discomfort, Audra popped out if her pocket for the first time today, crawled up onto his shoulder, and nuzzled into his neck.

"Well, good to see you up and about. I was starting to get worried." He murmured while scratching under the little dragon's head.

With a smile on his face, he left the slums, moving onto his next destination.

Not going to lie. This chapter was a rough one for me to write.

Definitely going to have to practice this whole character development thing.

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