Loading... Chapter Nineteen
When Daniel and Lance walked the guilds halls again, they were treated like ghosts. Their absence the past couple of days started rumors that they were dead. Everyone kept a careful distance. Well, almost everyone.
A young thief named Isidoro Martinez ran up. "I heard what you did," he said, with bright wide eyes that made him look too young for the guild. "Not everyone believed you guys were going to make it back. But I did." He grinned, like he won a bet with someone.
"Well, thank you," Lance said.
Isidoro nodded, and fell behind them as they marched over to Gael. Abel stood next to their headmaster. His tight expression made him look annoyed at their return.
"This is how legends are born," Gael said, his tone unreadable. "Your little mission was not very nice to Mr. Garcia. It was rash and put his cover at risk."
Daniel glanced over to Abel as he crossed his arms over his chest. Ah, so that's why he was so pissy. He must have been playing spy when they stormed the knight's building.
"Sir, if it wasn't for Daniel's quick action I don't think I'd—" Lance said.
Gael held up a finger interrupting him. "But I can't dispute Daniel's results."
"I would have found him," Abel grumbled. Daniel's stare didn't waver, and wouldn't until he knew if the man was going to make a bigger deal of it. Abel moved closer, and Isidoro took a nervous step back. A rookie move, not mirrored by Daniel or Lance as Abel stepped into their space.
"Welcome back," Abel said, as he walked past and out of the room.
With guild business cleared up, the duo headed to the archery field. Daniel's bow was down at his side as he sat on a tree stump that was doubling as a chair. After Lance nearly dying, Daniel wanted to make sure his friend didn't push himself too hard.
Lance pulled an arrow out of his quiver and lined up a shot. As he pulled the string back, a sharp twinge of pain ran through his hand, and up to his elbow. It completely ruined the shot, making the arrow fly a grand total of two feet. "This is pointless," Lance groaned.
Daniel stayed silent for the moment. More than Lance's body had taken a blow. His pride had also been beaten. "You have to give it time," Daniel said.
"I don't want to give it time!" Lance yelled. "I can't shoot an arrow; I can barely grip with my left hand. How am I supposed to do anything?"
In truth, no one expected Lance to do anything for a while, after what happened. Torture isn't the sort of thing you instantly bounce back from. The only person Lance was letting down was himself, and if he needed to scream until his throat was raw, Daniel would hear him out.
"You needn't worry so much," Daniel said. He brought his bow in front of him, resting his hands and head on it. "Even with a hand tied behind your back, you can give most people a run for their money."
Lance sighed. His eyes lowered to the grass before he finally was able to glance back up. As much as he wanted rage to fuel everything, he was tired.
"Come on," Daniel said, "We've been here for hours, let's go get food."
"Yeah, all right."
They walked to a small fruit market, and the change of scenery seemed to lighten the mood. "Look at the bright side of things, buddy," Daniel said. His grin suggested he was up to no good. "I'm just a better fighter than you now."
"Ha, very funny."
"No, no, really, hear me out," Daniel said. He purposely bumped into Lance as if to egg him on as he brainstormed more things to tease about.
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