Rise Of The Scoundrel

14. Triggers

For the first time in his life, Asher left Haven.

To travel between villages or to cities, one needed a written letter of approval from a Garrick member at their village outpost. However, obtaining one was nearly impossible unless you were traveling for work-related reasons. As Mr. Welkin had said, the Capitol didn't exactly believe in vacations for people like them. They couldn't profit off it.

"I'm not supposed to be out here. You may be a captain and can roam wherever you want, but that's not the case for me!" Asher hissed into the darkness, stumbling over unseen obstacles on the forest floor.

"It's fine," Ryker called over his shoulder dismissively.

Asher tripped but managed to catch himself, fingertips landing on the root of a tree, "I don't feel like becoming Blight Hound chow!"

The man groaned and turned to his new student, "This isn't the time to be difficult. Now that I'm your Mentor, it's my job to help you -"

"Help me?" Asher laughed incredulously. "Since when has the Capitol, much less the Garrick, done anything to help anyone in the villages? To help someone like me?" he seethed, a fraction of his internalized rage pouring out.

"I'm just a damn number," he cursed. "A member of one of the many neglected villages people like you only visit to carry out punishments, or worse. Sure, CKs are sent down here for a time to work, but do you think that is proper compensation for what you've done?" he asked, pointing a finger towards Ryker. "You work us to death, take from us, ignore the complaints of hunger and exhaustion, and now you've started some forceful recruitment process that we can't even talk about. You've ruined my life! All I wanted was to stay in the crummy village I showed up in, but now I'm following a captain of all people, blindly into the woods!"

He finally stopped to catch his breath, only to open his mouth again and continue his rant, but the air in his lungs caught when he realized he was irritated by the unimpressed stare Ryker was giving him.

Asher could see.

No longer did his surroundings consist of shadowy figures and rough outlines that he couldn't fully comprehend. Everything was tinted with a white hue. He could see crisp outlines of every leaf in each bush, tree roots curling into the ground and the bugs scurrying across the forest floor. He stared at his new Mentor speechless.

"Sheesh," the man huffed in exasperation. "All that just to get you to see. Are you going to make everything this difficult?"

Ryker continued ahead, stepping over obstacles flawlessly and without hesitation.

"He can see too?" Asher wondered in confusion. "So he isn't just a Sheath."

Eventually, the forest ended, landing them in a small field. It was empty, the grass reaching just below their knees. Ryker walked out towards the center, Asher quietly following behind him. The man surveyed the area, which was dimly lit by moonlight, but still dark enough that he and Asher needed their abilities to see.

"How did you know this was here?" Asher asked with wide eyes as he took in the new environment.

"Aggravating you seems to be a successful way to get you to use your abilities," Ryker commented and ignored Asher's question entirely. The man turned to him once he was several yards away, an unreadable expression on his face. "You have quite a bit of rage built up inside you, don't you kid?"

Asher was caught off guard by the man's tone. Ryker's words were spoken softly, almost as though his compassion was unintentionally seeping through. His lip curled at the idea of a Garrick Captain, of all people, portraying any proper emotions; particularly compassion. It disgusted him.