Chapter 13: The Mender’s Lament

Many times in Lethe’s life, she debated if she was closer to a porcelain doll or a cursed doll. The nineteen-year-old could hardly breathe as she sat before the mirror in a tight corset and chemise while her head maid, Gloria, brushed through the Mender’s waist-long ebony-brown hair. The ivory-skinned, pampered princess, reflected in the mirror before Lethe held not a flicker of emotion.

When Gloria stepped back, satisfied with her work, another maid, Deborah, stepped forward to apply a bit more blush to Lethe’s cheeks.

“Have you not been sleeping well, Praeditus?” Deborah said conversationally as she set down the blush and applied a bit of powder beneath Lethe’s sterling-grey eyes that blinked slowly beneath her touch.

“I do not know,” Lethe replied. Sleep was a dreary concept, especially when the Mender didn’t feel particularly awake right now. Lethe’s gaze left the maid who had moved on to applying a shade of ombre pink lipstick to the Praeditus’s mouth. Behind the maid was a large glass window overlooking Highguard, a city that was as much Lethe’s prison as her home.

Gloria returned with a pink orchid gown that she draped over Lethe’s chemise and shoulder, careful to avoid her makeup. “The Paragon requested that you wear this new silk gown he bought for you yesterday, Praeditus. Come, let's see how pretty you’ll look in it.”

“I don’t like the color,” Lethe stated in a flat tone as she shoved the fabric away.

“Oh, but it will brighten up your cheeks, Praeditus,” Deborah affirmed firmly as she and Gloria took an arm each and hoisted the reluctant Mender to her feet.

“There we go,” Gloria murmured as she hoisted one of Lethe’s arms through a sleeve. “We mustn’t be late. You know how busy the Paragon is these days, what with all those grubby refugees piling up outside the city gate.”

‘I imagine one would become quite grubby when fleeing their home and an invasion of monsters.’ Lethe blinked against the pink fabric pressed to her face as Deborah worked her other arm through. She blinked as hands pulled the gown down over her head. Then Gloria turned Lethe towards the back of the chair where the head maid seized the strings of the Mender’s corset and tightened them down still further.

Lethe held her breath as her spine stretched uncomfortably while her ribs squeezed painfully against her lungs. ‘Well, at least, that should help me fill up quickly.’ She grimaced as Gloria pulled her shoulders back. The maids switched places so Deborah could button up the back of the dress while Gloria moved to the jewelry box on the vanity dresser.

“What do you think?” the Head Maid asked as she held up a pair of gold ruby earrings.

“No,” Deborah replied with a shake of her head. “Save those for the red dress.”

“These?” Gloria switched to titanium earrings embedded with pearls.

“Hmm, perhaps—”

“Can I just wear my mother’s earrings?” Lethe asked, startling both maids as they turned towards her.

“Oh—” Gloria said hesitantly, “Don’t you think you should save those for—a special occasion? They are quite expensive, my Lady.”

“What special occasion might that be?” Lethe replied with a raised eyebrow. “My wedding—or perhaps my funeral?”

A small squeak slid past Deborah’s lips as Gloria dropped one of the earrings.

“P-praeditus,” Gloria said with a nervous laugh as she hastily snatched up the fallen jewelry. “You are—far too young to be worried about such things.”

‘Young?’ Lethe pressed a hand against her compressed abdomen as she ignored the faint ringing behind her ears. ‘I’ve been an adult for the last two years, yet I’m not allowed to pick out my own clothes or jewels?’

“I think we’ll go with the pearls after all,” Gloria said as she passed the earrings to Deborah then returned to the jewelry box for a matching necklace.

Hands pushed Lethe back into her seat, slid the pearls into her ears, and lifted her dark hair to place the necklace against her pale neck and collarbone. Hands lifted the Mender’s dress, pulled the silk stockings up to her thighs, and then put white heeled shoes on her feet. Gloria wove silver flower ornaments with pearls into a loose, voluminous braid of Lethe’s dark hair. Afterward, the girl was pulled back onto her feet and spun to face the full-length mirror.

“There, you’re all ready,” Gloria exclaimed with a hint of relief. “The Paragon will be pleased.”

The corner of Lethe’s mouth twitched with cynicism at the mention of her Guardian. Paragon Delancy had taken Lethe in as his ward when she was six, after the unexpected death of her mother, a Mender who had died facing a Penterix Gate. Both of Lethe’s deceased parents had been Praeditus Menders. After Praeditus Melinda died, Delancy had jumped on the opportunity to take in the orphaned daughter of his Mender, a move the Paragon justified by presenting a will Melinda had left in his keeping.

Since Lethe had been brought into the Paragon’s household, she was only permitted to leave the Mansion under heavy guard for three reasons. Her duties at the temple, where the Mender blessed a hundred bottles of holy water each day. These potions, called Althea’s Blessing after Lethe’s unique ability, were only given to those who could afford to pay the Paragon’s fees. Lethe’s second responsibility was training in Highguard’s C-Rank dungeon, where the Mender had earned the majority of her experience while keeping her party members alive and healthy. The only other time Lethe was permitted outside the Paragon’s palace-like residence was for the occasional holiday event when Delancy rewarded Lethe for being obedient to his demands.

“Just a bit of perfume,” Deborah said as she dabbed an aromatic stick of rose, jasmine, and other floral scents beneath Lethe’s ears before retreating to begin cleaning up and preparing for Lethe’s rather punctual bedtime.

“Let’s head downstairs,” Gloria announced as she took Lethe’s left hand and pulled the girl across the room, through the bedroom door, and down the carpeted hall to the giant stairwell.

One odd irregularity about the Paragon’s household was that the staff was entirely comprised of women. Except for important guests Delancy trusted to follow his rules, men were rarely allowed through the Mansion’s front door. Before this sudden change, there had been a single incident involving an Esus manservant who had dared to gaze at Lethe for too long. The Paragon took extreme offense and threw the servant down the stairs, where he promptly cut out the man’s eyes, then had the servant flogged before disposing of the Esus’s body over the city walls. Or at least, that was the story Lethe heard the servants whisper whenever the topic of the female-only staff came up.

The Mender herself had only seen the bloodstains left on the carpet before it to was swiftly replaced.

“Pay attention, Praeditus,” Gloria hissed as Lethe fumbled on a step. “The Paragon would be most displeased if you hurt yourself.”

‘I wouldn’t be so sure.’ Lethe sighed as the maid put a supporting arm around her waist. The sudden urge to pull herself away and shove the woman down the remaining steps rippled through her with such a sudden electrifying zing that Lethe fumbled her next step.

“Honestly, Praeditus,” Gloria murmured as she gripped the Mender’s waist harder. “Please be mindful of your step.”

They reached the front foyer without further incident as the Head Maid turned them towards the open arched doors that led to the large dining room. A full banquet table that could easily seat twenty people occupied the center of the room. The walls were adorned with paintings and etchings of monsters the Paragon had defeated. Among the trophies were a few prized physical remnants such as horrifying claws the size of a short sword, a giant monster horn the size of a cannon, and the skeletal head of a dire wolf the size of a full-grown sheep.

The Paragon sat in his usual chair at the head of the table, reading over an official missive with a pensive expression. Beside him, Julian Moore, Delancey’s right-hand man, though errand boy seemed a more accurate description, glanced up as Lethe and her maid approached.

“Esteemed Lady Lethe,” Julian greeted as he carefully averted his gaze to the floor by her feet. “Pardon my intrusion.”

Lethe ignored him as Gloria guided her around the table to her seat at the Paragon’s side.

“Should I take my leave, Paragon?” Julian asked as he turned back to Delancy.

“Yes, that will be all. Check our Seviner’s progress while you’re at it. They should be just about done with today’s ledger,” Delancy said as he passed over the missive he had been reading and then focused his blood-orange eyes on Lethe and her gown. “Ahh, that is much better than those drab grey colors you insist on wearing.”

“I wish you would allow me to choose my own clothes, Paragon,” Lethe murmured as Delancy rose to pull out her chair.

“I see enough dreary people every day, Lethe. The least I can do is add a bit of color to my ward’s wardrobe,” the Paragon replied as she took the offered seat.

Lethe repressed a sigh and offered a smile as he stared down at her expectantly. “I thank the Paragon for his generosity,” she intoned obediently.

“That’s my girl,” Delancy replied with a satisfied smile as he gently touched the pearl earrings in the Mender’s ears. “I should get you some new jewelry to wear. Would you prefer diamonds or Sapphires?”

‘If I asked for my mother’s jewels, would you give them to me?’

“I’m sure the Paragon knows best,” Lethe replied as she watched the Assassin slip out. “You mentioned a Seviner?”

“Indeed I did,” Delancy replied as he returned to his seat. “I happened upon one not long after you came into my care. She is only a few years younger than you. Highguard may not be as old as Dawnskeep or Scarforde, but we have as much political power here in the east, and quite a few gifted and rare ability users, such as yourself.”

Lethe offered an empty smile at the Paragon’s compliment while servants laid out a plate of venison, greens, puffy potatoes, and honeyed bread before them both.

“And how was my lovely ward’s day?” Delancy asked as he waited for his wine glass to be filled.

Lethe’s smile tightened as Gloria filled her cup with water. ‘I can’t even have wine. What is the point of growing older if he won’t treat me like an adult?’

“Lethe?” The Paragon focused on her with an amused smile. “A Lark for your thoughts.”

“My day was the same as always,” Lethe replied neutrally. ‘Nothing ever changes around here after all.’

Delancy laughed. “You’re bored, I can tell. Should I find some new books or perhaps a new musical instrument for you to learn?”

Lethe took a sip of her water and then glanced towards him hesitantly. “You mentioned new jewelry. Perhaps—I could go to the market with you this—”

“No,” Delancy interjected firmly. “Not after what happened last time.”

Lethe grimaced. “I wasn’t in any real danger. It was just a common pickpocket.”

The memory of the scrawny thief that the Paragon hacked into pieces with his war ax flickered behind the Mender’s eyes in a memory of black and white shadows.

“It could be an assassin next time,” Delancy retorted somberly. “Even with Sentinel escorts—it's far too much of a risk just to see a bit of jewelry.”

“But it's fine when those same Sentinels escort me into a Dungeon?”

“Lethe,” Delancy murmured, his voice as smooth as silk while his blood-orange eyes pinned Lethe to her chair like a moth to a board. “The experience you gain in the dungeon is vital to your progress. The stronger you become, the better your chances of survival when facing a Dementher Gate. Highguard has been lucky so far, but our good fortune won’t hold forever.” The Paragon released her from his gaze as he stared into his wine. “When that day comes, your Mending skills will keep thousands from crossing over into Thana’s domain.”

“My mother was almost a Paragon when she died,” Lethe replied bluntly. “How strong must I become before you allow me to choose my own way?”

“Choose your own way?” Delancy echoed with an arched brow. “Lethe, one day, you will understand why I have been so strict in my care of you. Menders are rare as it is, least of all one of your lineage.”

Lethe resisted the urge to pull away as he took her hand and wrapped it in his burning touch.

“You are a rare gift to mankind that must be protected, my darling Lethe,” the Paragon murmured as he offered her a rare smile.

‘From whom? Monsters or men like you?’

“Now, you should eat,” Delancy said with an encouraging nod to her untouched plate. “You are growing far too thin.”

“Yes, of course, Paragon,” Lethe monotoned as she lifted her fork and impaled a vegetable.

“Perhaps you should take up painting again? I still have that landscape of flowers you painted me hanging in my room.”

“I don’t like flowers anymore,” Lethe replied as she cut the broccoli into the smallest pieces she could reasonably manage.

“Oh?” Delancy chuckled as he cut into his venison. “It seems the list of things you don’t like anymore is getting longer by the day, Lethe.”

The Mender bit into the stub of broccoli and smiled cynically. ‘Perhaps one day I will dislike breathing as much as I despise looking at you.’

As always, the food before her tasted like sand. Lethe prolonged the formality of eating by cutting each piece down to the size of a pea.

“Siren’s respawn is coming up. Another dungeon clear, and Siren’s monster core should get you to level 70,” the Paragon said conversationally between the sound of Lethe’s knife grinding away against the porcelain plate.

“Shouldn’t we give the Sentinels a chance at the Boss monster core this time?” Lethe murmured as she raised a shredded piece of venison. “I wouldn’t want to hamper everyone else’s progress.”

“The Sentinel’s know how valuable your growth is,” Delancy replied dismissively. “And I do reward them with a paid trip to Grimdwell where they can obtain even better loot and experience.”

“I see,” Lethe replied and chewed on the tasteless bit of meat. Ever since the Mender had lost the ability to taste food, her appetite had dropped drastically. However, Lethe knew better than to starve herself. If the Mender neglected her health, the ones who would suffer would be the maids who attended to her every need.

Lethe sighed as she stabbed another bite of vegetable. ‘I wish a Dementher Gate would come and take you all away.’

Delancy finished his wine and impatiently tapped a ring against the crystal glass as a servant rushed over to refill it.

‘Most of all you.’

A knock from the arched doorway pulled Lethe’s attention from her barely touched plate as Julian appeared with an apologetic bow.

“Consultus?” Delancy said darkly as his blood-orange eyes narrowed in on the Assassin.

“Apologies, Paragon, but an urgent matter has come up concerning the Seviner and a certain prisoner,” Julian explained, careful to keep his gaze focused on Highguard’s Master.

“Come over then,” Delancy said with a beckoning wave. “Make it quick.”

Lethe observed her Guardian’s face as Julian whispered into the Paragon’s ears. The long-forgotten sensation of joy filled her stomach as rage burned behind Delancy’s eyes.

“That stupid bitch! She had one job!”

Lethe almost smiled as the Paragon slammed his hand against the table. The slab of Black Locust wood shuddered and cracked beneath Delancy’s hand as the Hell Knight Champion rose to his feet.

“Forgive me, Lethe, but a rather urgent matter has been brought to my attention that must be dealt with swiftly,” Delancy said with restrained impatience as he shoved Julian towards the door. “Have the servants harness my carriage. I may need it to deal with this impertinent praeditus.”

The Assassin scampered quickly through the archway door as Delancy circled the table to take Lethe’s hand. He offered the Mender an apologetic smile as he kissed the back of it. “I will likely return late, but please enjoy the rest of your meal and dessert without me.”

Lethe offered the smile she knew he expected and watched him depart with a neutral gaze. She felt a moment’s pity for the praeditus who had managed to get under the Paragon’s skin—if only out of gratitude for the rare scene their actions had bestowed upon the bored Mender.

‘For a moment there, the Paragon looked worried—but that was probably my imagination.’

A silence fell over the dining room as Lethe’s silver-grey eyes returned to her plate and the utensils she had been struggling with throughout dinner. She set her fork and knife down firmly and then stood.

“Praeditus!” Gloria stepped forward worriedly. “You have hardly eaten.”

“I have no appetite,” Lethe replied as she pushed back her chair and turned towards the doorway.

“But the Paragon—”

“If I eat another bite, I will be physically sick. Is that what you want?”

The Head Maid drew in a sharp breath and glared at Lethe reproachfully. “If I report to the Paragon that you failed to eat your dinner, he will be most displeased and—”

“I want an apple,” Lethe replied as she continued through the arched doors into the hall. “A golden apple.”

“But—those are not in season, Praeditus!” Gloria protested as she rushed after the Mender.

“Nothing is out of season for the Paragon’s house, and I want one.” Lethe flinched as the head maid grabbed hold of her arm determinedly and offered the desperate woman an empty smile. “Surely the ward of the Paragon can have an apple if she wants one?”

Gloria was clearly struggling to maintain her composure, yet Lethe’s position in the household left her no room to negotiate. “Alright! I will send the servants out to look for a golden apple.”

“Better make it seven.”

“Seven!?”

“And have the cook bake them into a pie.”

“Very well,” Gloria replied with strained patience. “Would the Praeditus care to drink or eat anything else before your bedtime?”

Lethe studied the woman’s resigned expression and felt the trickle of satisfaction that she gained from tormenting the senior maid evaporate like a wisp of smoke. The feeling of emptiness that followed turned her hands cold as the Mender focused on the stairwell ahead of them and took the first step.

“On second thought, don’t bother, I’m not hungry.”

“Praeditus!” Gloria whispered her tone somewhere between a cry for help and a prayer to the gods.

The head maid held onto her arm firmly and walked up the steps beside the brooding Mender.

“Must you?” Lethe muttered resentfully as she winced beneath the older woman’s strong grip.

“These are the Paragon’s rules, Praeditus,” Gloria replied as the head maid swept strands of her prematurely graying hair back and straightened her spine. “Let’s get you settled down with a nice soothing book, and I’ll see about that apple pie and some honeyed milk.”

‘You changed your tune quickly. I suppose you really are worried that I’ll starve.’

“I told you, I’m not hungry,” Lethe mumbled as she increased her pace, impatient to reach the top of the stairs and be rid of Gloria’s grip.

“You never are, Praeditus, but you must eat,” the head maid replied as she increased her pace with ease.

“Why?”

Gloria let out a long-suffering sigh of aggravation as they reached the top of the steps. She turned and grasped one of Lethe’s hands in both of hers as if in prayer. “Because Praeditus, if you die—so shall we all.”

The weight of unwanted obligation and responsibility settled onto Lethe’s shoulders as she turned wordlessly towards her bedroom. The walls painted in a sky blue hue faded gray before the Mender’s eyes, as did the violet bed sheets and pillows along with the rest of the room. Lethe sighed as she removed the dull gray pearls and left them on the vanity desk for Gloria to put away.

The Mender moved to her reading chair by the large bedroom window and stared out at the gray palette landscape of rooftops. Behind them, only the setting sun greeted the Mender’s gaze with its burning warmth and color. Lethe curled against the cushioned armrest and squinted her eyes until, to her blurred vision, the city appeared to be on fire. She smiled, then slumped against the chair with a tired sigh as she perused a stack of books that waited for her on a nearby table.

“Praeditus, you must sit up straight. That corset will cut off the blood flow to your head if you sit like that,” Gloria lectured as she returned with a small tray. “Now, I sent the kitchen boy to the market and informed the cook of your request. He happened to have a golden apple in one of the cupboards that he cleaned and set up for you.

Lethe blinked as Gloria presented a small plate with a somewhat wilted dull gray apple upon it.

“And I brought your medication as well, Praeditus,” Gloria said as she placed a small potion bottle of gray liquid beside the apple.

Lethe raised her silver-grey eyes to the maid as she leaned forward and picked up the bottle of medication the Paragon required her to drink every day since reaching D-rank. She tipped the bitter fluid back and shivered as a ripple of cold flowed down her throat and filled her chest with a pleasant numbness.

The Mender tossed the empty bottle on the tray and picked up the offered apple. The cool skin of the fruit glowed with a bright, pure light as Lethe cast two skills in quick succession.

Mender Active Skill—Purify I (Tier III) An advanced cleansing skill that has a 54% chance to remove any [Illness], [Poison], or [Affliction]. Mender Active Skill—Divine Heal I (Tier III) A Divine skill that restores 62% of the target’s Health Pool.

ALERT! Unique ability [Althea’s Blessing] has been activated!

Mender Unique Ability—Althea’s Blessing All injuries from Minor to Critical are fully recovered. Target is restored to perfect health with a 25% boost to Health Pool and Mana Pool. 25% boost Resistances and 25% boost to the next three defensive skills.

“It seems Althea has smiled upon you,” Lethe said with a satisfied nod as she tossed the apple towards the startled head maid. “Take that home and feed it to your family. It will cure them of any illness.”

“Praeditus!” Gloria whispered hoarsely, then dropped to her knees as she offered the apple back to the Mender. “Please, my Lady, you must eat!”

Lethe raised a single disinterested brow as she looked at the shimmering, colorless apple that glowed with the blessing of her Goddess. “But I hate apples. I want to sleep now, so take it and go.”