“Whatcha doing, Win? If you’re free, can you take a look at my weapon? It’s felt a bit off since the last fight.”
Calling to me from behind, Sabal draped herself over my shoulders. She was a member of the Fanged Tribe, one of the beastfolk races that had carnivorous traits.
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When I had first saved her from her human captors, she had been a child. She had grown into a fully mature woman, but she was still just as clingy as ever, which was no small source of stress for me.
That said, if there was a problem with her weapon, that was a cause for concern. Beastfolk relied primarily on their strength for fighting. Being so much stronger than humans, the extra stress their fighting put on their weapons meant that any sort of deformity in it could easily lead to it breaking. The weapons I had made for the beastfolk had all been reinforced with that in mind, but it was still a danger. My master, Oswald, and Acer had told me time and again that when weapons broke like that, it was often in the most critical moment.
“Sure. I’ll take a look once I’m done writing this, so just leave it here.”
I felt Sabal’s weight shift on my back as she leaned forward to see what I was doing. Her boundless curiosity reminded me of a cat. It was nothing but a hindrance now, but I couldn’t bring myself to scold her for it. Though, since she wore leopard skins and a mask modeled after one in battle, calling her a cat out loud would probably make her quite angry.
“Is this another one of those letters to your father?”
I nodded as I began writing. Yes, this was a letter to Acer. It was nothing fancy, just another report to say that I was still doing well.
“What a good boy you are, keeping this up even though he never answers. But really, I’m curious about your father. Is he a weirdo like you?” she asked, apparently feeling a need for my immediate attention.
As she had said, Acer would probably never write me a response. I couldn’t blame him for that. My letters would pass through the hands of any number of people, so I couldn’t write anything about what I was actually up to in them, nor had I provided enough details for him to know where to send a response. I was always worried one of my letters might fall into enemy hands. He couldn’t reply even if he wanted to, so I wasn’t bothered by the long silence from him.
“What do you mean, ‘like me’? I’m nowhere near as messed up as he is.”
I couldn’t bear to be painted with the same brush as him. I might seem strange to the beastfolk and the humans in the West, but I was nothing compared to Acer. I wasn’t as quick to fight, I didn’t share his love of alcohol, I wasn’t nearly so overbearing, and I certainly wasn’t as strong.
Ah, Acer was probably so weird because he was strong enough to force his will through. His way of thinking and open-minded approach to others all came from his overwhelming power. He was still grounded, but could occasionally have an almost transcendent perspective, all because of that strength. He was confident he could do anything it took to protect the people he loved and those right in front of him, which gave him room to be tolerant of others. I knew that if he was faced with a threat that seemed too much for him to handle on his own, Acer would become incredibly dangerous. Though that almost never happened.
If Acer had been the one to come here instead of me, it was quite possible the war would be long over. I didn’t know how he’d make that happen, but it would almost certainly be through reckless force, yet done in such a way to result in the fewest possible victims.
I didn’t possess the same strength he did, though. No matter how I struggled, I couldn’t achieve the same results. Even knowing that people would die every day for as long as the fighting continued, I could do no more than move toward the solution one step at a time. Even if all the death I had caused made me unqualified to do so.
Every once in a while, I got the urge to ask Acer to come visit me, but that was the one thing I absolutely couldn’t do. The conflict here had nothing to do with him. I wasn’t some kid who would use his dad to make his wishes come true. No matter how strong he was, I didn’t want to saddle him with an unnecessary burden. The problems here in the West needed to be solved by its own people, and by me since I had stuck my neck out by my own free will. That was for the best, and that was how I wanted it to be.
“Really? I think you’re plenty weird, honestly. But I’m really glad you came anyway.”
As Sabal whispered in my ear, I finished writing. Rather than asking for him to come visit, I said that I hoped we would get to spar again someday. I didn’t know how long it would take for that to happen, but when it did, I wanted to be able to tell him about how we had put an end to the war with our own hands.
Would he praise me for that? It was a bit embarrassing and childish to say I wanted him to...but knowing Acer, I was sure he would.