EDGAR

'Twas nearly a total cock-up, but all's well that ends well, I s'pose.

Edgar sat back at the scarred and disused butcher block masquerading as a desk, sucking thoughtfully on the end of his quill. When he was handed his most recent mission by the Smiling Silence, he figured it'd be a straight job. Unpleasant, but straight.

The Black Weald goblin tribe were a nuisance to the Ebonblade Order and, more importantly, the Smiling Silence. Occasional shipment disruptions were an annoyance, but the goblins had recently taken to intercepting communications between Edgar and the Silence.

Honestly, the goblins likely had no knowledge or understanding of what they were doing. They just wanted meat, and the giant Devil Birds used as messengers between the Smiles and the Silence were plump and plentiful. Easy prey. Most couldn't read or speak the languages of the land, and it was even less likely that they would be able to decypher the code used in the messages.

Nevertheless, it was ordered that the goblins were to be exterminated.

Poor sods. Poor Chloe.

In order to maintain his cover Edgar was explicitly forbidden from engaging with the goblins directly. He was a brawler; there would be no hiding his handiwork from the Order. Hell, it was a miracle he'd managed it this long as a clandestine informant. And so he devised a clever ruse to choke them out. Goblins were gluttons by nature. All he had to do was sabotage their food sources, he reckoned.

First, there were the decoy supply carts. They must have been screaming mad when they realized the flour sacks were full of sand. Root vegetables were laced with a nasty pox, courtesy of a certain Azure Elf contact of his back in the village. Then he spooked the wildlife from the area. He'd fashioned crude strawmen to scare off birds from the crops and hung bone chimes in the forest that sung a haunting melody when the wind blew. The small game cleared out in a matter of days.

They'd either poison themselves or starve.

What he hadn't considered was the goblins' innate ruthlessness. When they saw their opportunity to strike back at the Order, they did. In their desperation, they attacked Chloe and her guard on a routine holy water gathering mission. Somehow they'd managed to catch the pair in what looked to be a guerrilla style attack and made off with the poor junior priestess.

He was sure she wasn't simply being held as a hostage; reports from the rescue party indicated that preparations had been made for a great feast. The goblins were intending to engage in one of the ultimate taboos. Edgar shuddered and ran a palm over his great ruddy face.

'M such a bleedin' idiot.

Of course, he could never disclose his inadvertent involvement in the whole affair. Could never admit guilt or even beg forgiveness. Such was the life of a Smile.

“Jes' keep smilin', Eddy,” he murmured ruefully to himself and went back to his writing.

Edgar despised writing these letters; however, regular intelligence reports were a compulsory part of his role as a Smile. When he joined up with the Smiling Silence years ago in hopes of becoming an elite assassin he'd barely passed the initiation. Despite his impressive physique, he was actually the weakest of the applicants and was thus placed within the Ebonblade Order as an informant and new head chef.

He looked over the message once more.

...Upon rescuing the junior priestess, the party identified and rescued a second captive. Youthful male adult, over 2m in height, slim build. Black hair, green eyes, pointed features. Notable curved black horns protruding from either side of the brow.

The Ebonblade Order suspects this man is the reincarnation of the Dark Hero from the previous era. High Priestess Emi Hallowedblade has confirmed she now shares the Divine Mark with this man. Should this information prove true, in time he may become even more powerful than the H. Priestess.

The individual, “Zed Thorne”, appears to be ignorant of the local customs. His birthplace and family is unknown at this time. His magical and martial abilities are being assessed presently. Will monitor closely.

-The Mountain Smiles

Bah. Good enough.

He snorted, rolled the parchment into a tight tube, and pocketed it with the intention of sending it out later that evening. Yes, this supposed 'dark hero' certainly had the potential for complicating his position. It wasn't that he particularly disliked the poor fellow: Edgar liked everyone well enough. That was probably why he blended in with the rest of the Edall adherents so well.

Speak o' th' lich, they're quite the animated bunch this evening.

He blinked and emptied his mind, tuning in to the commotion in the dining hall.

“--Fire Affinity Stone sliced clean in half--”

“--kind of spell can do that? Was it--?”

“Him, yeah, the hero.”

So he's an elite caster, aye? Hmmm...

The conversation devolved into murmurs and was lost amid the great clattering of plates from the hall as most of the fellows finished their meal. Edgar lumbered to his feet and silently moved to the doorway to more acutely observe.

“I mean, of course she laid him out flat, but did you see that move of his? For a minute there, I could have sworn there were two of him.”

“Yeah... Still, though, couldn't help but to feel a little bad for the guy. Did he ever wake up?”

No answer. This was going nowhere fast.

The ruddy gits. Sometimes yeh jes' gotta take th' direct approach.

Edgar pasted on a winning smile and strolled out to investigate for himself. It was Yusai and another stocky, redheaded monk.

“Wha's all this, then,” he boomed jovially, throwing his arms out wide. “Wha's happened t' our Zeddy?”

The pair looked up in surprise but returned his smile easily.

“Oh, Eddy,” Yusai moved to one side to allow Edgar to join them. “Well, suffice it to say, Zed is currently spending some quality time in the infirmary. To say that Emi bested him during his swordsmanship assessment would be... an understatement.”

“Something to do with an incident in the magic training grounds,” the redhead offered helpfully. “We heard he demolished the Fire Stone!”

“Yeh don't say!” Edgar couldn't help but let out a great belly laugh at the mental image. “Zeddy's a tough lad, I'm sure. He'll come outta it jes' fine.”

Yusai crossed his arms and rubbed at his chin, brow furrowed.

“As you say. It seems neither Zed nor Chloe have emerged from the infirmary for their evening meal. She must have her work cut out for her.”

Bollocks.'Course I was right t' worry about the lad. Best stop out that way t' investigate, myself.

“Well, that settles it, then,” Edgar declared, rubbing his meaty fists together. “Can't let poor Chloe do her good work on an empty stomach, now, can we?”

The two nodded in agreement. Edgar turned to leave but doubled back as he recalled his... other duties.

“Oh, Yusai? Woulja mind picking up some o' that daggermint from th' garden later? I have a new idea I'm thinking of tryin' out fer breakfast. If I c'n jes' pluck the damned razor leaves off, the stems would make a great sweetener fer th' jam.”

Yusai nodded weakly, suddenly looking a little green.

“Good man! Good talkin' t'ya, lads.”

He clapped Yusai on the shoulder and headed back to the kitchen. Perhaps he'd try his hand at this 'caw-fee' drink again to cheer the boy up while he was at it. He'd been concerned that he might have used the wrong kind of bean, judging by the look he received earlier that morning. Perhaps a sweeter red bean...

Once Edgar set the beans to boil he set about gathering a selection of leftovers and finger foods from the pantry: a few Earth Apples, jerky, sausages, a rainbow of fresh berries, grain and seed snacks, two bowls of steaming soup. Once he judged the beans to be sufficiently cooked he poured the substance into his fanciest cup. He was at a bit of a loss for a few moments upon realizing there were no serving platters at his disposal given that all meals were served cafeteria style.

No matter.

He deftly ripped the round top of the table off its base and balanced it atop his head and set off for the infirmary.

---

It was very nearly dusk as Edgar approached the temple. Stars twinkled brightly on the horizon and large torches blazed on either side of the great entryway as a beacon for weary travelers. Though he still thought himself an outsider in the Order, he couldn't help but to feel right at home within the thick stone walls of the shrine. His heart swelled with warmth and joy with each step he took toward the temple.

Suddenly Edgar's ears were assaulted by a high pitched shriek. Blood drained from his face and he sprinted toward the source.

Chloe!

Huffing and puffing, Edgar reached the doors of the infirmary and was immediately relieved as he realized that the voice from within was now giggling.

Oi, she's gonna give ol' Eddy a heart attack. Well, no time like the present.

He burst through the massive banded double doors, platter still balanced atop his head. The priestess practically jumped out of her skin and squealed at his appearance.

“Edgar!”

If she isn't the prettiest little thing.

“I heard Zed had taken a beating, and yeh were late fer dinner,” he explained. “Where's th' fire?”

Edgar glanced around the room and saw poor Zed sleeping away in a nearby bed. Emi really had done a number on the boy, but Chloe did a better job patching him up.

“Oh, Edgar,” she gushed, “it's absolutely astonishing! I've only just finished healing-- Zed, was it? When I healed him, everything changed! My heal transformed into something dark, strange, and wonderful, and the most amazing thing happened!”

She wiped away the tears streaking down her cheeks and beamed up at him.

“I've changed, Edgar! I've become a full-fledged priestess!”

Now it was Edgar's turn to beam back at her.

“Well, innit wonderful, indeed! Tha's great news, love. Couldn' be more proud o' yeh.”

His statement was a sincere one: He'd always had a soft spot for little Chloe since he was placed at the shrine and she healed a particularly nasty gash across his bushy brow from a wild harpy hunt gone wrong. She'd done a beautiful job of it and Edgar was left without even the smallest hint of a scar.

It was rumored that a great deal of the meals prepared in Edgar's kitchen consisted primarily of harpy out of spite for the one that attacked him so long ago. This rumor was absolutely correct.

An' to think I almos' got her killed. Poor Chloe. Couldn' think o' anyone more deservin'.

“It's him, Edgar! It's all because of him,” she insisted, tugging gently on his forearm and bringing him out of his melancholy.

Edgar set the tray down on the nearest unoccupied bed and obliged her, gently patting the top of her head affectionately.

“Slow down there, m'dear. I b'lieve yeh. Edall below b'lieves yeh.” He jerked his head toward the massive platter of food. “In any case, I didn' see yeh at dinner. Figured yeh might be a bit peckish. Aye?”

Chloe looked back up at him, nodding sheepishly. He figured she'd simply forgotten to eat again.

Need t' keep a closer eye on yeh, love. Yeh're gettin' a wee bit skinny.

“Then it's settled. Yeh're to sit yer pretty little self down and have a bite to eat. Yeh can' replenish yer mana properly withou' a good meal. There's enough here fer th' both o' yeh, whenever th' poor lad wakes up.”

Chloe picked up the fancy cup and sniffed at its contents, pulling a sour face.

“Edgar. What is this?” He detected traces of disgust in her tone as she set the cup down very deliberately.

“I'm told it's called 'caw-fee'. New recipe, requested by our dark hero. It's... a work in progress. Give 'im my best when he wakes, aye? I'll come in an' check on yeh if I don' see yeh at breakfast.”

She nodded earnestly and Edgar turned to leave, pulling the doors firmly shut behind him. He'd need to send off that message before it got much later or there'd surely be consequences.

Yeh're proving t' be quite powerful already, aren' yeh? I hope we never become enemies, Zeddy.