Chapter 14: The Apple and Tree

“That slippery, double-dealing, Gromulus ass-licker!”

Corbin winced as the front door slammed open to the sound of Commander John Larkin’s bellowing wrath. The Materia sighed as he set aside his cleaning rag and the bottle of robur oil. The glistening dark surface of the Jabal Shield reflected the Guardian’s furrowed brows as he ran a hand through the messy, dark golden-brown hair he had inherited from Highguard’s Commander.

“Of course, the Paragon would wait to spring this on us,” John snarled as he continued his rant. There was only one other person aside from Corbin that the Commander vented his frustrations about the Paragon to. Corbin grimaced as he listened to the sound of his father’s heavy footsteps, confident they were shadowed by a lighter pair that often visited the Larkin residence. The Guardian quickly determined that the pair were headed in his direction.

At the back of the Mansion, a servant’s staircase led up to the balcony on which Corbin perched, where father and son often polished their weapons and armor when they needed to relax and work off their frustrations.

“Corbin?” As expected, Warden Beatrix’s worried voice trailed behind the Commander’s footsteps.

“Upstairs!” The Materia called back as he pushed his chair back to face the door through which his father and ex-step-mother would enter.

Somehow Beatrix reached the balcony first and surveyed Corbin’s freshly washed state with an almost motherly smile. “Just get back, did you?”

Corbin nodded. “Consultus Milo asked for a bit of assistance registering the latest group of refugees that showed up at the north gate this afternoon,” the Guardian explained as he turned to the bucket and bar of soap on the chair next to him to wash his hands. “You both left early this morning.”

Beatrix blinked and coughed awkwardly as John Larkin emerged onto the balcony, apparently having removed his plate armor in the side armory room before joining them.

“Did you tell him yet?” John growled as he removed the bucket from the second chair and sat straddling it as he faced the Warden and his son.

“Not yet,” Beatrix replied as she crossed her arms and cleared her throat.

“Told me what?” Corbin raised a brow, not at all liking the rather grim expressions they were both giving him.

“You should look at this as an opportunity, Corbin,” John said gruffly, even as his hands threatened to snap the back of the chair he gripped.

“Perhaps you should explain,” Corbin suggested as he turned his focus to the Warden.

“The Paragon has selected you and your new unit to assist with escorting refugees to the capital in Dawnskeep or back to Fraydale if they choose to return,” Beatrix answered with an anxious glance in John’s direction.

“My—unit?” Corbin echoed. “I—just got promoted to Lieutenant less than a week ago. I haven’t even met my unit yet—” he turned back to the Commander. “Does it even make sense to assign such a dangerous task to a brand new unit?”

“It doesn’t. This is Xander Gaumond’s doing!” John growled as the wood beneath the Pheonix Champion’s clenched fists creaked pitifully.

‘Ah, so that’s where the Paragon got the idea.’ Corbin dried his damp hands on a towel and then crossed his arms slowly over his chest. ‘Xander’s pushing awfully hard to keep me away from Fallon.’

“How many men have you assigned to his unit?” Beatrix asked as she moved closer to John and placed a supporting hand on the Phoenix Champion’s shoulder. “What are their ranks?”

“I’ve only selected five so far—the final two I’m still working on,” John grumbled darkly. “All the members of his unit are Materia. I can’t assign anyone of higher rank until Corbin reaches B-Rank himself.”

“And what are the chances of us encountering B-grade monsters or even bandits on this journey?” Corbin asked as he scratched his jaw uneasily.

“You won’t be traveling alone,” Beatrix replied quickly. “This will be a joint effort between the Sentinels and City Guard. I can assign Consultus Fay and her team to your group.”

Corbin’s jaw locked tightly as he closed his dark silver-gray eyes and rubbed his thumb and forefinger against his eyelids with a sigh.

“Ahh, wouldn’t that be—awkward?” John asked quickly, picking up on his son’s reaction. “Corbin did just—turn Fay down only a week ago.”

“Fay Tarlay is a professional,” Beatrix replied with a snort. “Besides, I’m fairly convinced she only offered to date him out of sympathy.”

“Ha!” Corbin shook his head and rose from his seat. “Whatever. When are we expected to leave?”

“The Praefecti have set the first date for travel two days from now,” John replied as he left his battered chair to clasp a hand on Corbin’s shoulder. “That will give me enough time to finish selecting your team. It would be best if you started taking them on patrols around the city walls tomorrow. You can hunt down and drive away the Gromulus, Silki, and other monsters drawn to the exposed refugees outdoors.”

“Alright,” Corbin nodded and bent to pick up his shield. “Any chance I can upgrade from my Blue-Steel plate armor for this journey?”

“Shouldn’t you be earning that yourself?” Beatrix cut in sharply. “Perhaps if you loaned out less coin and weapons to Fallon Gaumond, you’d have more saved up to upgrade your armor.”

“I didn’t ask you, Warden,” Corbin replied tensely as he slid the shield straps around his arm. “I believe you lost the privilege to lecture me about entitlement when you two got divorced.”

“Corbin!” John murmured with disapproval as the Guardian shouldered his way past the Phoenix Champion towards the Larkin Manor’s private armory.

“It’s alright,” Beatrix said quickly. “He’s right. I’m not his stepmother anymore.”

‘Then what are you doing living in my house?’ Corbin shook his head as he hung the shield up on the wall beside the laid-out, battered Blue-Steel plate armor. ‘When I was a Sentinel, Beatrix always picked me last for dungeon delves because she didn’t want to appear to be favoring her step-son. Now that I’m part of the City Guard, she’s still trying to force her ridiculous morals onto me. As if hamstringing her ex’s kid will somehow change the way all Praeditus and their children are treated.’

The Guardian rolled his neck and shoulders before turning to face the door where John Larkin was waiting for him.

“Go easy on her, will you, son. You know Beatrix means well,” the Commander said softly.

Corbin snorted. “So that’s a no to new gear that just might be the difference between my coming home alive or in a coffin. Got it. Good to know where your priorities stand, Commander.”

“I never said that!” John snapped but glanced over his shoulder and cautiously listened for a moment before continuing. “I have a new Reinforced Jabal Armor set waiting for you at the Garrison. You can test it out tomorrow on your first unit patrol.”

Corbin nodded, still not happy about the current living situation with his ex-stepmother. “You mentioned the refugees are either headed to Dawnskeep or returning to Fraydale?”

“That’s right,” John replied though his brows furrowed faintly. “Beatrix and I would feel more comfortable if your unit went to Dawnskeep. There should be fewer monsters to deal with on that route and bandits know better than to mess with a well-armed group.”

“But it’s a two-week journey just to reach Dawnskeep!” Corbin protested. “I’ll be gone for an entire month!”

“Think of it as a good training expedition for you and your men!” John replied as he stepped out of the doorway and turned towards the steps. “You’ll be back before you know it and with a lot more experience than you’d get here sitting on your ass.”

“Fraydale is closer and more monsters means more experience,” Corbin grumbled as he followed the Commander downstairs. “I’d rather cut down monsters than potential bandits if it's all the same to you.”

“It’s not. Your unit has no experience dealing with a swarm of Gate monsters.”

“But surely Paragon Thea has closed the gate by now. She and her Sentinels will have had nearly a week to cull the numbers of any rogue groups before we even arrive.”

John spun around on the last step of the stairwell with a pointed glare. “So what you’re saying is, you’d rather risk putting your unit in a position they’re not prepared to handle just for a bit of extra experience and a faster return date, is that it, Lieutenant?”

“If the safety of me and my unit was of any concern, you wouldn’t let the Paragon send us on a mission before you finished filling my unit,” Corbin snapped back. “How many other units is the City Guard sending on these escort missions?”

John exhaled sharply as he gripped the rail. “Just four others for now, but I’ve pledged as many men as necessary to the task to keep the city population under the Pillar of Dissonance’s threshold.”

“And what are the ranks of those units?”

A nerve in the Commander’s jaw twitched before he turned and headed in the direction of the Manor’s kitchen and dining room.

“That’s what I thought,” Corbin muttered as he trailed behind.

“Hey,” Beatrix called softly as she appeared from the shadows in the hallway behind the Guardian.

Ghost Sniper Active Skill—Sniper’s Shroud (Tier IV) A stance that allows the Ranger to meld into their environment and remain undetected to all but the most observant. Any physical movement or skill use will break this stance. This skill increases perception in the following senses: Smell, sight, and hearing. Note: When the stance ends, movement speed is increased by 60% for 7 minutes.

“Euclid’s Balls!” Corbin gasped and then grimaced at her. “What are you—are you eavesdropping now?”

“I just wanted to ask you to go easy on him,” Beatrix interjected with a raised hand. “We’re both doing the best we can to keep you safe.”

Corbin scoffed as he continued towards the dining room, where the servants were setting a third place at the table. ‘Great, I guess the Warden is joining us for dinner again tonight.’

“I’d just like the opportunity to choose which direction my unit goes,” the Guardian explained as he moved behind his chair. “You made me a Lieutenant for a reason. Let me have two days to assess my unit and gauge their experience and capabilities.”

“The other City Guard units are higher in rank,” John replied as he pulled out his chair. “And they’ve already agreed to protect the refugees on their way back to Fraydale. They have experience with escort missions and each other that you and your unit do not.”

“I still don’t think traveling to Dawnskeep is any safer than traveling to Fraydale,” Corbin muttered as he pulled out his chair. “And this could be the perfect opportunity to finally meet my aunt, who has been asking for me to pay her a visit for the last two years.”

Corbin’s aunt, Paragon Thea, was an S-Ranked genocidal Avenger who protected the western territories of Orinthian with a monstrous glaive that she had ripped from the hands of an invading Draith General.

The Guardian didn’t miss the sudden tension in the room the minute he brought up the Firebrand. John’s expression went completely rigid before the Commander slammed his chair against the table, knocking over the crystal glass waiting by his plate.

“John,” Beatrix whispered sharply.

“If your aunt wants to see you, she can come to Highguard herself,” the Phoenix Champion growled. “She waited eighteen years before bothering to reach out to her nephew. She can wait until you’re bloody ready to make the journey to Steelgrave.”

Corbin snorted as he sank into his chair. “Steelgrave is closer than either Fraydale or Dawnskeep. And under the Firebrand’s Hell Hound Army, it's probably the safest place in the western territory.”

“Corbin,” Beatrix snapped with a glare of disapproval.

“Stay out of this,” the Guardian shot back as he crossed his arms defiantly and locked eyes with the Commander. “I know Paragon Thea tried reaching out to me several times before I turned eighteen and became an adult. You both kept those letters from me, so don’t go twisting the truth and shifting the blame on her. I deserve an answer as to why you are keeping me away from my mother’s only living relative.”

“Because I don’t want my son anywhere near that psychopath’s influence!” John growled as he dragged a hand down his face. “Thea Moreno is dangerous and reckless with the lives of others. Why do you think I left Steelgrave the minute she became its Paragon?”

Corbin sighed as he studied the red clay porcelain plate before him. When it came to his maternal aunt, the people who knew the S-Ranked Avenger or claimed to have met her always fell into one of two groups. Those that revered her as a powerful Paragon who had once single-handedly closed a Penterix Gate—the same one that had killed her younger sister, Zelina, Corbin’s mom. And then people like the Commander, who considered the Firebrand, as Emperor Garbhan had named her, to be as dangerous as the Gates themselves.

As Corbin’s last unit leader, Consustus Milo, had once explained to him, “It takes a special kind of rage and lunacy to face an invasion of monsters all on your own. Lancers don’t work well with others. They get too caught up in their pursuit of battle and blood and often lose track of their teammate's safety on top of their own. That sort of recklessness and disregard for survival is why very few of them reach the Avenger Class at A-rank.”

“Perhaps there’s a way we can peacefully resolve this debate,” Beatrix said as she pulled out her chair and sat down.

“I’m all ears,” John growled as he mimicked her actions.

Corbin glanced between them, already sensing a power move at play.

“It’s been a while since you two last squared off in the arena,” the Warden commented casually as she straightened her utensils.

The Guardian’s arms tensed against his chest as he glared at the meddlesome woman. ‘Now you’re just playing dirty, Warden.’

“That’s true,” John replied quickly as the anger and tension evaporated from his posture and tone. “What do you say to a wager, Corbin? If you can last against me in the ring for three rounds—you can choose which destination you and your unit will be heading to in two days.”

‘You can’t be serious?’ Corbin resisted the urge to hang his head in defeat. The odds of a green C-Ranked Guardian lasting three rounds against a veteran A-Ranked Phoenix Commander were nonexistent. ‘Still, I won’t know unless I try. If I can show him how much I’ve grown, maybe I can convince him that I’m ready regardless of the results.’

“All right,” Corbin relented with a note of resignation. The Guardian narrowed his eyes at the faint smirk which crossed the Warden’s lips as she reached for the bell to signal they were ready for dinner.

“Then let’s get to it!” John declared eagerily as he pushed back his chair and stood up.

“N-now?” Beatrix stammered in surprise.

“Ha!” Corbin shook his head as he followed the Commander’s directive and rose to his feet.

“Don’t worry, Beatrix, we’ll be back before the food gets cold,” John said with gloating confidence as he kissed the Warden’s cheek.

Corbin resisted the urge to roll his eyes at their public display of affection. ‘For two people who hated each other too much to stay married, they sure get along really well now that they’re divorced.’

“Feel free to eat without us and head home, Warden,” Corbin called over his shoulder as he followed his father towards the Manor’s front door. “It’s a long walk to the Garrison, and this duel could take even longer than the Commander expects.”

“Ha!” John laughed loudly in amusement. “We’ll see about that, Guardian.”