Curselock

Chapter 231: Party

Leland, Jude, and Glenny didn’t know most of the people at the party. Some left fuzzy impressions in their mind, maybe they met when the boys were kids? Or maybe all of the stories their parents told them over the years solidified images of these people. The Inquisitor with a hook for a hand? Yeah, all three boys knew of him, his personality, and how he used to be a pirate. But none had actually met the man.

Regardless, they were shuffled into the tavern, handed mugs of mead, and sent straight over to their parents.

“Happy birthday boys,” Diana Brown announced, looking from Jude to the others. “Twenty is a big milestone!”

As one, a collective “ohhh” echoed in each of the boys’ minds. While Leland’s birthday was the closest, being in a few days, Jude and Glenny’s had already passed. And without any celebrations, given what was going on with the city, they realized the party was for all three of them.

“Thanks mom,” Jude said, stepping over. His mom pulled him into a hug, his dad ruffled his hair.

Carmon Red appeared behind Glenny, a sudden gust of wind the only evidence he moved rather than teleported.

“Happy birthday,” he said, wrapping his arm around his son. A small box was held between his fingers. “This was your mom’s. Take good care of it.”

The boisterous fun of the party instantly took a dive for Glenny. He carefully took the box from his father, gently tugging it open. Sitting on red velvet was a simple iron ring. Chipped and even rusted in some spots, the ring oozed with cunning insight. He recognized it instantly: a ring of subtlety.

A rare gift indeed, when worn, the ring obscured the wearer from all who looked. Many rumors surrounded the simple piece of jewelry, but all held the same general theme. Created in batches, the smith and enchanter overstepped the market, giving all thieves and cutthroats ease of duty. Eventually, someone powerful was stolen from, and that powerful person hunted down all remaining rings and destroyed them and the crafter.

He spun on his heel, wrapping his father in a mighty hug. The pair, while never to be a complete trio, still had each other. And despite it taking a long while to finally acknowledge that, they would never forget.

Leland’s parents were subdued in their birthday congratulations, only giving him a searching look and a brisk head nod. He stepped over to them anyway.

“Hey mom, dad,” he said, the party’s volume making the simple sentence come across as a whisper.

“Oh honey,” Lucia Silver muttered, closing the distance and hugging him. “What happened to you being a kid? I remember when you were still in diapers.”

“Mom!”

Spencer Silver patted his son on the shoulder. “It’s true. You were a messy pooper—”

“Dad!” Leland yelled. “Please, not here. Not ever.”

Chuckling, Spencer said, “You’ll be a parent one day. You’ll understand you’ve got to tease your child when you can. Because someday they will outgrow you.”

Whether by previous conversation about his parents or not, Leland felt a chord of sorrow in his father’s voice as he said that. His friends were right.

“I’m not outgrowing anyone.”

Said slowly and firmly, Leland eyed his parents as he spoke. Gauging their reaction, neither showed much. But he had known them his whole life. He saw the subtle twitches, the despondent blinks, the careful breathing. They didn’t believe him, and he wasn’t sure he believed himself anyway.

Gah, that right there. That thread of thought, an iota of ego. For the past two weeks, Leland had found himself thinking these horrible thoughts. He was who he was, yes, but that didn’t make him any better than anyone else. Leaving people behind was not what he wanted to do, nor was it what he was going to do.

His mind briefly touched on his conversation with the Lord of Magic. Ego, especially when it came to loved ones, were true killers. Harbinger Ashford had given up everything that made him, him. And only death and ruin came. Power begets power, and evil power begets evil power.

“I’m not going anywhere,” he said, this time louder and more apparent.

His mom’s façade broke first, her face twisting into something too real. “Oh sweety, we just worry.”

Now it was his dad’s turn. He flinched so hard he almost knocked over a nearby mug of beer. When he recovered, his face had aged ten years in that single moment. “I know we don’t need to worry, but it's just—”

“Stop,” Leland interrupted. “You two can worry all you want. I don’t mind it. In fact, I’d prefer it if you do. Even if it's annoying, just knowing that you two care and will always be there is better than the opposite.”

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“We should have been there to help against Ashford,” Lucia muttered. “At a minimum, it should have been you, me, and your father fighting him.”

Spencer quickly shook his head. “It should have been the whole of the army against Ashford, not you, Leland, at all.” He dipped his head a bit. “And that’s on me. My magic just… didn’t work. I’ve never experienced something like it before.”

“Ashford suppressed it,” Leland said. “Don’t worry about it.” He turned to his mom. “And don’t worry about it as well. Everyone was taken by surprise.”

She smiled softly. “You were just so fast. Who’d have thought that three different sets of wings could make you so quick.”

“Speaking of wings, anyone heard from Isobel?”

Lucia’s face fell. “No.”

Spencer sighed, loudly. “She’s alive. Reports of her have come through the network. What she’s doing, where she’s going. Both unknown.”

Staring at his mom, Leland asked, “What’s with that reaction?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Mom…”

“Alright, fine. I just don’t like the way she treats you.”

Leland chucked at that. “It’s okay. I’m used to it.”

“But you shouldn’t have to be. It’s not fair for someone her age and renown to—”

He held up his hands. “Mom, Isobel and I have an understanding. The Archon Valley was difficult for both of us for different reasons.”

Biting her lip in a way that read warning, Lucia spoke in that special motherly tone. “I don’t like it.”

Leland shrugged. “I didn’t at the start, either. But I wouldn’t be alive without her help, both in the Archon Valley and during my battle with Ashford.”

It was subtle, but the word “my” rang differently between Leland and his parents. To him, it was just phrasing, to his parents… it was his battle. His battle that he won.

“Do either of you two know her history?” Leland asked in silence. “Because I do. And I understand how she acts is both real and fake. And quite frankly, I’m surprised she can show anything real anymore.”

Both Spencer and Lucia knew Isobel’s history, but only what was written on paper. Dead child and husband, murderous revenge spree, join the Inquisitors soon after and become a force to be reckoned with.

Leland continued, “I can understand why you don’t like her, mom. I didn’t when we first met.” He laughed at that, remembering being stalked from town to town. “But I’d consider her something akin to a big sister… not that I know what having a sibling is like. But calling her that feels right.”

Lucia looked as though she was going to respond, but a warm hand on her back smothered her irritation. She and her husband shared a look before she backed down. Isobel didn’t matter, nor did her feelings about the Huntress. Leland was all that mattered.

A beat passed before Spencer spoke up. “How’s Sybil?”

Now smiling, Leland said, “She’s great. Oh, and if you ever need to visit a temple for the Lord of Magic, there is now one in the castle!”

Spencer and Lucia shared another look. “Um. What now?”

The party continued for hours. Between each of the boys, they bounced around from conversation to conversation. People introduced themselves, gave thanks for their work in defending the city, promptly handed over a birthday gift, and meandered off to drink more.

And at least for Leland, no one here was overtly weird to him. Sure, he found a few partygoers staring at him from across the room, but none rushed over to kiss the back of his hand and cry on their knees. And while that had only happened twice, he desperately didn’t want it to happen a third time.

Eventually the boys found themselves sitting together with their families. Roy and Ray Brown, Jude’s father and uncle, arm wrestled on a much-too-cluttered table, shaking drinks and plates of food. Diana spoke with Lucia and one of their Inquisitor friends, practically singing both Jude and Leland’s praises. Carmon sipped a cup of liquor that never seemed to drain, eying magical contracts Spencer created.

“That one,” the blade dancer said, pointing to a pyramid made out of blue mana.

“Gah!” Spencer growled, canceling the magic with a puff of smoke. Where the pyramid sat, now a gold coin rested. “How’d you know?

Carmon jerked a thumb at Leland. “He kept looking at it.”

Spencer gave an impish-smiling Leland a scowl before cracking a smile himself. He flicked his wrist, the mana constructs reforming. This time a cube consumed the coin, before all the constructs suddenly shifted.

“Glenny’s turn,” Spencer announced.

“The cylinder,” Genny instantly responded, his voice jolting Leland.

“Wha! How long have you been sitting there?” Leland yelled, only now realizing that his best friend was literally sitting beside him.

Glenny smirked. “It’s the ring,” he said, holding up his hand. A plain iron ring rested calming on his pointer finger.

“How didn’t I notice… I usually notice things like that.”

“You're drunk,” Spencer said. “Messes with the senses.” The constructs fell away, showing that Glenny was incorrect.

“Am not,” the white haired boy muttered.

“Wait,” Leland spoke up. “Where’s my birthday present, dad?”

Spencer blinked a few times. “What do you mean? It’s not your birthday yet.”

“We are literally at a party.”

“So? You get your present on your birthday.”

Leland eyed his father. “You forgot, right?”

“Nope.”

He looked at Glenny. “He forgot.”

“Totally,” Glenny said.

Spencer laughed. “Okay, you both are drunk. Why can’t you two act more like Jude—”

All eyes turned to the Berserker Legacy. Sitting part way down the table, two Judes appeared beside each other. One held a harmonica, the other a flute. They played together, but both were drunk, so they played very poorly together.

“—Eh, maybe not,” Spencer finished with a shake of the head.

“Don’t tell me Jude got a flute as a birthday present,” Leland muttered.

“I think he did,” replied Glenny. “Do you think his parents would be upset if we snapped it in half? I think they’d understand if he kept annoying us with it.”

Shrugging, Leland said, “They’d understand, I think. But what happens if he’s like, really good at the flute? What happens if he gets another mirage and there’s three of him? That one can play the piccolo.”

“Why stop at three? What if there were somehow enough Jude to play a symphony? Violin, cello, triangle.”

The boys laughed.

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