Novel Full Chapter 191: Promise
Chapter 191: Promise
"Are you including yourself in that last category?"
"Yes."
"At least you are honest."
"I try to be. Now reset."
By the end, Rohan’s shoulders ached and his left forearm felt stiff beneath Iri’s wrap. Liora’s limp had worsened, though she tried to hide it by turning away while putting the short spear back on the rack.
Rohan watched her for a moment.
"You should rest."
She stiffened.
"I am fine."
"I did not say you were weak. I said you should rest."
"That is usually what people mean."
"I am not people. I am the idiot who puts his arm in monsters’ mouths, remember?"
That made her pause.
Then she sighed, the tension leaving her shoulders in visible stages.
"I hate that I need to be careful with it."
"With your leg?"
"With everything. Before the skarn pocket, I knew my limits. Now I keep finding new ones, and they are all smaller than I remember."
Rohan walked over and leaned against the weapon rack beside her.
"I know that feeling too."
She glanced at him.
He looked down at his hands.
"When I first entered Hestia’s realm, my strength from the Origin Realm disappeared. Everything I had fought for, everything I thought I could rely on, was just gone. Even after I got some of it back through the Great System, it took time to trust my body again. I kept reaching for power that was not there, or expecting a reaction that belonged to another system."
Liora was quiet.
"That sounds terrifying," she said.
"It was. I made jokes because the alternative was admitting I was one bad step away from panic."
"You still make jokes when you are afraid."
"Yes."
"I know."
For some reason, that made him feel more exposed than he expected.
Liora’s expression gentled.
"Rohan, I do not think fear makes you lesser. If you were not afraid here, I would think you were too foolish to stand beside."
He breathed out slowly.
"That might be the nicest thing you have said to me."
"It is not. You simply have poor memory for praise."
"Probably because you disguise it as criticism."
"Only when you deserve it."
They stood together in the grey morning light, surrounded by practice posts and worn stone, while Veyrhold woke around them. Somewhere nearby, a shutter opened with a squeal of metal. A child laughed and was immediately hushed by an adult. The smell of hot mineral bread drifted faintly from the kitchens.
At last, Liora pushed away from the rack.
"Come on. Pell wanted to see you before the expedition, and if you avoid him, he will follow you around with that terrible serious face."
"He has a serious face?"
"He practises it because he thinks Maerin will respect him more."
Rohan groaned. "That is dangerous. We cannot let him become a tiny Maerin."
"Then walk faster."
Pell found them first.
He came running down the side lane with his scarf half-wrapped, hair sticking up from beneath his hood, and a wooden practice spear clutched in one hand. His mother followed at a more reasonable pace, carrying a basket and wearing the expression of someone who had accepted that children were small disasters assigned by fate.
"You are leaving in six days," Pell said, breathless.
Rohan looked down at him. "That is what the adults have decided, yes."
"I am also an adult in training."
"That is not a legal category."
"It should be."
Liora smiled. "He has been waiting all morning."
Pell glared at her, then looked back at Rohan with great seriousness.
"I made something for you."
He held out a small charm.
It was made from a narrow piece of black glass bound in cord, with three tiny metal rings tied along the bottom. The glass had been etched with a crooked spear shape and what Rohan recognised as one of the marker symbols for safe return.
Rohan took it carefully.
For a moment, he genuinely did not know what to say.
Pell’s mother stopped a few steps away, watching quietly.
"It is not strong magic or anything," Pell said quickly. "It is just a return charm. People put them on packs when someone goes far. I made the spear badly because the glass kept slipping, but Mother said it was still recognisable. You do not have to wear it if you think it looks childish."
Rohan closed his fingers around the charm.
His throat felt oddly tight.
"I do not think it looks childish."
Pell’s face brightened, then immediately tried to become serious again.
"You should tie it to your pack. Not your spear, because if you throw the spear, then the charm might return without you."
"That is a very practical warning."
"I thought about it."
"I can tell."
Rohan crouched so he was eye level with the boy.
"Thank you, Pell. I mean that."
Pell looked suddenly embarrassed.
"You are supposed to come back with it."
"That is the plan."
"No, not the plan. You are supposed to promise."
The words hit harder than Rohan expected.
Beside him, Liora looked away.
Pell’s mother’s expression tightened slightly, but she did not interrupt.
Rohan held the boy’s gaze.
On Cael Athis, promises about returning from beyond the walls were not small things. He knew that now.
"I promise I will do everything I can to come back," Rohan said carefully. "I will not promise something the Ash might decide to argue with, but I promise I will try as hard as I know how."
Pell frowned, clearly unsatisfied by the lack of certainty, but old enough to understand why certainty was dangerous.
"That is almost a promise."
"It is the honest kind."
After a moment, Pell nodded.
"Then it counts."
Rohan tied the charm to his belt pouch that afternoon.
He pretended not to notice Liora watching.
The fourth and fifth days were consumed by equipment.
Maerin personally inspected every pack.
This was not a quick process.
She laid each expedition member’s supplies out on long tables in the watch hall and went through them with a severity that made even Jorren stand like a guilty child. Rohan had thought his own preparations were thorough until Maerin silently removed half his packed items, rearranged the rest, and held up one small pouch of dried food with an expression of deep disappointment.