Chapter 06

An hour or more passed by in relative silence, the hushed conversations of the attendants the only sounds Markus could hear besides the occasional hiccup and sniffle from Arlee.

The thought of being a father had never really occurred to Markus, but here in this moment with Arlee, he felt like he had experienced this before. Comforting a child not his own, in a hospital hallway. Strange, since Markus had never knowingly done so. Disturbing since he had no memories before-

“NO!” Like a portcullis slamming shut in Markus’s mind, the trail of thought was viciously severed.

Through force of will, Markus began calming himself down again, abandoning the train of thought that brought on the near panic attack. All the same, there was an impression of a faceless child drifting in the periphery of his mind. The more Markus tried to focus on it, the more determined it became to evade his scrutiny.

“Sir?” Markus was snapped from his manic introspection and found one of the young attendants politely trying to get his attention. “Sir?” She repeated. Noticing she had his attention now, the attendant continued, “We can treat the girl now,” she gestured to Arlee with an open hand.

“Arlee?” Markus asked softly. When Arlee didn't reply he leaned to the side and found she was asleep. “Arlee,” Markus jostled Arlee a little as he spoke her name.

Arlee woke up slowly, her eyes red and puffy from crying. “Hrm?” She mumbled, pushing her dirty unkempt hair from her face with equally filthy fingers.

“It's time for you to get cleaned up too,” Markus explained, only sparing a glance towards the attendant to confirm his assumption.

“Then I can see mama?” Arlee asked, her drowsiness banished by a sudden surge of emotional intensity.

“Of course,” Markus replied, taking note of the disapproving frown of the attendant, but otherwise staring her into silence. “And while they are getting you all cleaned up, I am going to go fetch the person to help your mama alright?”

Arlee looked like she might cry again, but chewed her bottom lip and nodded.

Before allowing the attendant to take her away, Markus gave Arlee another hug, ignoring the pain from his bruised ribs. “Be good and I will be back before you know it,” He tousled her greasy hair and did his best to suppress the intense need to wipe his hand clean again.

As the attendant took Arlee into the room adjacent to her mother’s, Markus waved goodbye to her in what he hoped was a comforting and reassuring way. Getting to his feet and shouldering his pack again, Markus began mentally preparing himself for the ordeal ahead. However, he was stopped short by the elderly attendant Ms Hena who had crept up while Markus was seeing off Arlee.

“You shouldn't lie to little girls,” Ms Hena said disapprovingly.

Markus was taken aback and couldn't think of a response fast enough before the elderly woman continued her verbal assault.

“Do you think you are the first to unload an unwanted child on the church through such means?” Ms Hena demanded sternly.

Again, Markus's mind was reeling, “Wh-what?” He stammered.

Ms Hena’s glare pinned Markus like a lance running through his chest.

“Th-that's not what I’m doing,” Markus stammered while trying to clear his head, “I am just trying to help.”

Ms Hena snorted derisively, “They all say such things,” she jabbed Markus’s chest, unerringly targeting the most painful section of the bruised muscles. “This is for the best, it’s for their sake,” Ms Hena’s satirical and angry tone made her position abundantly clear on what she thought of Markus’s alleged good intentions, “You think a few coins is good enough to slip out of their lives, to abandon your responsibilities?!” She jabbed him again, harder this time, “You think that your title gives you the right to do whatever you want and damn the consequences?!”

Markus's confusion was now giving way to his own anger, “Listen!” Markus growled, “The sooner I leave, the sooner I can come back!” Stepping back and around the attendant, Markus stormed off down the hall and out into the street. “What the bloody hell was that about?!” He fumed inwardly. “I am just trying to do the right thing and she's bloody crucifying me over it!”

Anger was not a welcome addition to Markus’s ever-mounting anxiety. More than ten minutes had passed as he tried to get his nerves in check and reign in his anger before entering the Guildhall. And for all Markus knew, that was time Arlee’s mother did not have. “Just calm down,” he muttered to himself while pacing back and forth, “Deep even breaths”. Markus was slowly starting to feel a little better, his hand had stopped trembling at any rate.

“Lord Farus?!” And just like that, Markus anxiety skyrocketed again, the familiar delicate female voice was unmistakable. Lady Zoe Chavare, looked to have just returned to the Guildhall herself. A pair of soldiers in livery disturbingly similar to the men from the night before were flanking her from behind. The embroidered crest on her styled doublet made it abundantly clear to whom the soldiers owed their fealty and why they had encountered each other the night before. They were almost certainly her family's retainers or at least under contract with house Chavare.

Markus groaned inwardly, doing his best to suppress his looming panic attack. After what he did to her retainers, Markus doubted she would be in the mood to altruistically use her Priest abilities to heal sickly commoners.

“I had not expected to see you again so soon,” Zoe said, her tone betraying none of the fury she no doubt held in reserve over Markus’s re-enchantment of her retainer's weapons. “But a friend told me you were outside the Guildhall. Since I wasn't certain you would attend the dinner this evening, I hoped I could take this chance to speak with you.” she drew closer, leaving only a couple of feet between them.

“Here it comes,” Markus thought, his insides writhing uncomfortably.

“I never got the chance you thank you properly for erm-” She fidgeted uncomfortably, her hand absently rubbing her pant leg, “You know erm-” Zoe sounded a tenth as anxious as Markus felt, her cheeks flushing slightly, “Replenishing the mana in my prosthetic leg,” she seemed to be struggling to look Markus in the eye. When it became obvious Markus wasn't going to say anything, Zoe took a deep breath and pushed on, “Uh so erm, THANK YOU!” She nearly shouted the words as she bowed low, her hand over her heart, a half-second behind their lady, the pair of retainers did likewise.

“Erm...That's okay,” Markus replied awkwardly, now embarrassed by the scene unfolding in public view on the street. “Uh, actually there is something-” Markus started to say but was cut off.

Zoe suddenly straightened bolt upright and closed the distance between them in an instant, her sudden invasive proximity made all the worse as Zoe brought her face within inches of Markus’s own. “Anything!” She declared with intense enthusiasm, matching steps with Markus as he tried to disengage and increase the distance between them. “Just name it!”

“I need you to heal someone,” Markus blurted out, his cheeks flushing in embarrassment, unsure he had even spoken as he was having trouble hearing anything over the painful thundering of his heart beating in his chest.

“Of course!” Zoe exclaimed, leaning forward and reaching for Markus's injured hand, her eyes suddenly turning light sapphire with emerald corona.

“NO!” Markus barked, backing away and desperately trying to stop himself from shaking.

Zoe blinked, her eyes immediately having returned to normal and now wide with surprise. An awkward silence took hold between them as they each thought of what to say. Zoe seemed to have gathered her wits first, her tone no longer intense but apologetic “I-I’m sorry,” Zoe bowed briefly “Your companion Svala had warned me of your haphephobia, I forgot, I am sorry if I caused you any distress.”

Despite her apparent sincerity, Markus still found it hard to accept Zoe’s apology, the maelstrom of emotions inside his mind making it difficult to think at all. “It-It’s fine,” Markus muttered, his injured hand had cramped again and was only getting worse. “There is a little girl and her mother in the hospital, It’s the mother that needs the healing,” Markus gave a ragged sigh, taking deep breaths to try and steady himself again, “Just heal her and we can call it even.”

“I-” Zoe was about to say something, but seemed to think better of it, “Alright,” she agreed with only minor reluctance, “It was nice speaking with you again Markus,” Zoe pressed her hand to her heart and bowed her head briefly, “I hope to see you again this evening at dinner, but I can understand if you are too busy to attend. Goodbye.” Zoe and her retainers left at a brisk pace, though she spared a lingering glance over her shoulder as they left.

Zoe had seemed disappointed, but Markus had no time to think about it as a flood of manic energy took hold of his body and demanded release. Shivering and shaking, Markus tried his best to stop his injured hand from tearing its scabs open again, simply accepting the other spasming muscles as a matter of course.

Markus had considered deliberately waiting outside the hospital until Zoe had left, but the prospect of his cowardice had been slightly more unbearable than a second panic attack.

All the same, Markus had noticed his pace slowing significantly the closer he came to the hospital. In truth. The weakness itself did not shame Markus nearly so much as what he thought others considered of his actions. For Markus, the response was as a part of him as breathing, in some ways even more so.

Even so, it aggravated Markus. No matter how far he had come, it was still there. Haphephobia, the word rolled around in his mind but didn't stick, because it was wrong. Markus wasn't touch-phobic, or at least he wasn't anymore. A friend had helped Markus through it and helped him get better. The touch of a stranger's hand was only a little more irritating or upsetting for Markus than it would be for just about anyone else.

“Unless it's a Priest,” Markus growled under his breath, suppressing the involuntary shudder and flood of anxiety he felt each time they were so much as mentioned. Markus wasn't sure why Svala had excused his poor behaviour towards Zoe with the phobia. There were no visible traces of what he had been through, his modest collection of scars having only been accrued in the past year or so. Markus noticed his attention drifting into dangerous territory and forcibly redirected it to the present.

One of Zoe’s retainers was standing at ease by the hospital's main entrance and was engaged in polite discussion with one of the female attendants. As Markus drew closer, the retainer stood at attention and saluted Markus.

The attendant stood to the side and smiled warmly, she was not one of the attendants Markus had seen earlier, not that he had any names to put to faces besides Ms Hena anyway. “Lord Farus,'' she curtseyed slightly before continuing, “I was instructed to let you know that both patients are in stable condition and are very likely to recover,” When Markus made no sign of interrupting the attendant continued, “Lady Chavare has used her divines sent powers to restore the mother. Ms Hena and Hospitaller Halbut expect a full recovery in time.”

Markus sighed in relief, a part of him had expected to be too late or for Zoe’s power to have been insufficient. “Thank you,” Markus bowed his head and pressed his hand to his heart, ignoring the pain.

Following the attendant through the hospital, Markus saw the second Chavare retainer standing guard opposite Zoe and Arlee, who were sitting side by side on the adjacent bench Markus had shared with Arlee earlier.

Arlee was nearly unrecognizable, wearing a clean shift and thick woollen socks. The two of them seemed to be so engrossed in their conversation that they hadn't noticed him yet.

“Ahem” Ms Hena had snuck up on Markus again, now having appeared in his periphery. Turning to face her properly, Markus could see she was noticeably uncomfortable.

“Lord Farus,” She dipped her head in deference, “I must offer my sincerest apologies. I besmirched your character and pure intentions-” She took another breath to steady herself, “-I am sorry, I misjudged you.” Ms Hena bowed low this time, hand on her heart.

More than a little embarrassed, Markus looked away, “It’s fine, I get it, I know how it looks.”

“But you did it anyway,” Ms Hena said, and Markus could feel her stringently evaluating him again.

“I was in a position to do something, so I did,” Markus shrugged. There wasn’t much more to it than that.

The overwhelming majority of Markus’s altruism was self-motivated. If he had not helped Arlee, Markus was certain he would have had nightmares over it. Furthermore, once he was committed Markus had to see it through. It was the same selfish bravado that had driven him to enter the aberrant dungeon and almost got himself, Aela and Svala killed. Pain avoidance and pursuit of comfort more often than not required subjecting himself to pain and discomfort. The contrarian nature of Markus’s perpetual dilemma was not lost on him, but there was something that still bugged Markus.

“Why didn't she come to the hospital sooner?” Markus voiced this thought aloud.

Not expecting an answer, he was surprised when Ms Hena promptly complied, “It’s complicated...” She didn't sound enthusiastic about the subject but pressed on regardless, “The mother’s name is Abigail and her daughter Arlee is a nobleman's illegitimate and unrecognised bastard. A year or so ago, Ms Abigail had tried pressuring the father to legally recognize their daughter and provide support, but the nobleman did not like that at all. Abusing his position and the goodwill he held with other lords and officials, he slandered Ms Abigail and had a magistrate formally deny her claim. Out of spite, he pressured the clergy and even the hospital staff to avoid contact with her as a fallen and malicious woman.” Ms Hena seemed equal parts angry and embarrassed and had to recompose herself before continuing, “When you had brought Arlee and Ms Abigail into the hospital, I had initially thought you were perhaps one of the nobleman's acquaintances or servants. I am sorry, I know now that it was wrong of me to have so misjudged you.”

“It’s fine,” Markus said, “But who is this nobleman?” The situation left a horrid taste in Markus's mouth. He found the idea of abandoning a child like this morally unconscionable and to go so far out of spite was tantamount to outright villainy.

Ms Hena shook her head uncertainly, “I am unsure, you would need to ask Ms Abigail.”

Markus was confused, “But you said he was stopping her from receiving help from the church, how do you not know who he is?”

“He only works through proxies and subtle pressures of influence,” Ms Hena explained patiently, “Which is why I had mistakenly believed you to be one of his lackeys.”

Engrossed in his conversation with Ms Hena, Markus hadn’t noticed Arlee spring to her feet. “Mister!” She called excitedly, streaking across the distance between them.

Unfortunately, Markus turned just in time to catch her shoulder with his groin, “Oof,” Markus groaned, desperately trying not to curse.

Arlee had not seemed to notice, hugging him tight with her one good arm, “Mama is better!” She exclaimed, stepping back and taking a firm grip on his good arm.

Markus groaned painfully as Arlee dragged him into her mother's room.

Markus could hardly believe his eyes, the woman sleeping peacefully resting in the bed bore no resemblance to the emaciated husk Markus had brought to the hospital earlier that same day.

“Look look,” Arlee dragged Markus over by the bedside, “The Lady touched momma and made her all better!” She let go of Markus's hand and gave a rather comically exaggerated performance of opening her eyes as wide as they could go and waving her hand about before deftly poking her mother's arm, “Just like that,” Arlee said proudly.

Arlee was expecting some sort of reaction, so Markus smiled mischievously, masking the extreme anxiety he was feeling. “Just like that? Really? I don't believe you.”

Arlee’s brow furrowed incredulously, “It's true!” She insisted, “It was magic!”.

“A-r-l-ee?” Abigail stirred in the bed, her eyes slowly fluttering open but struggling to focus.

“MAMA?!” Arlee quickly forgot about Markus and scrambled onto the bed alongside her mother, “MAMA!” Arlee repeated as she hugged her mother so fiercely Markus was afraid Arlee would hurt the poor woman.

“My-Ar-lee,” Abigail seemed to be struggling to speak, or perhaps to even formulate more complex thoughts. “Arlee!” She repeated with more vigour and clarity, returning her daughter's embrace with as much strength as she could muster.

Feeling a little awkward, Markus took this as his cue to give them some space and left the room. He had considered leaving the hospital as well but decided against it for the time being. Learning of the business involving a vindictive and secretive nobleman left Markus feeling quite worried for their safety.

Zoe was looking at Markus expectantly, her right boot heel tapping excitedly clearly anticipating another conversation.

Markus suppressed a groan and took a seat at the farthest end of the bench, although this still only left a few feet between them since Zoe was sitting at its centre-most point.

Zoe Chavare wasted no time in beginning the conversation, “Lord Farus-”

“Markus,” Markus interrupted.

Without skipping a beat, Zoe smiled politely and tried again, “Lord Markus-”

“Just Markus, I hold no land nor have a claim to title,” Markus corrected her.

Still not discouraged, Zoe perhaps even smiled a little wider, “Markus then, I hope this exchanging of favours between us can form the foundation for a cooperative friendship.” Even though she had not phrased it as a question, Zoe obviously expected a reply of some kind.

“Sure, I guess,” Markus replied somewhat noncommittally.

If Zoe was disappointed, she did not show it. On the contrary, Zoe appeared incredibly pleased by Markus's reply, perhaps having expected him to shoot down any notion of future relationships between them, not that he would have blamed her for that either. “Very good,” Zoe beamed. “Are you planning on staying in Endem long?”

Markus wasn't sure how he should answer that. “Maybe,” he replied noncommittally, “Why do you ask?”

Zoe seemed to grow nervous despite her enthusiasm, “I had overheard part of your conversation last night-” A slight reddening of her cheeks marking Zoe’s embarrassment over the breach in etiquette, but she continued regardless, “-so I was wondering if you had given much more thought to it.”

Markus nodded slightly, “I had no real confirmed plans, but-” Markus glanced towards Abigail’s room briefly, “-things change.”

Zoe cocked her head slightly to one side, her expression making it clear she didn't understand, “I am sorry for my impertinence, but what do you mean?”

“I don't abandon people,” Markus replied bluntly. “Arlee and her mother will need somewhere to live, but I am not sure whether this town is safe for them or not.”

“How do you mean?” Zoe asked, her curious expression tempered by a surprising tone of pragmatism, “The locals are perhaps a little rough around the edges, but the population density is low enough that dungeon generation is still quite low.”

These were factors Markus had considered himself well in advance of travelling to Endem, to begin with. However, they were not the danger he had meant. “It is believed that Arlee’s father is a nobleman. Arlee and her mother's state of destitution seems to be the result of his spiteful reprisal over Abigail’s attempts to pressure him into recognizing Arlee as his daughter.”.

Zoe was shocked at first but quickly regained her composure, “I see. And you think that he will do something despite your intervention or even because of it?” She asked with concern.

Markus nodded in agreement, “Most likely, and I honestly doubt moving to a different town will be sufficient to escape his notice.” Markus sighed, his level of stress being generated by the situation was steadily rising higher, and while the distance between Markus and Zoe helped, it was still a factor. “I don't think moving out into the countryside is a good idea either, too exposed, too many unaccountable variables.”

“That is certainly true, so far from central authority, he could have them run down in the streets and if he has the connections, still get away with it with his reputation intact.” Zoe fidgetted uncomfortably, her brows furrowed and gnawing at her lower lip as she became seemingly lost in thought.

Markus was grateful for the break in the conversation and took the opportunity to emotionally regroup.

After a few minutes of quiet contemplation, Zoe broke the silence, “There is a way to mitigate the danger presented by this nobleman,” her expression made it quite clear that she did not find the solution very palatable. “First I must ask, do you have any intentions to marry into the aristocracy?”

Although initially intrigued by the solution Zoe had seemingly discovered, Markus balked at the question of marriage. “No,” he replied bluntly, a less than complete answer since Markus had not considered marriage, in general, let alone a politically motivated union.

Zoe nodded in silent agreement with his response, her expression suggesting she had expected as much, “Though perhaps somewhat distasteful, there are two readily available means to shelter Ms Abigail and her daughter from potential retaliation, but it will come somewhat at the expense of your character.” Zoe cleared her throat before continuing, her posture becoming ever so slightly more rigid and her lips pursing slightly as if what she was going to suggest was personally distasteful or perhaps ran contrary to her moral character. “There is more than a passing resemblance between Arlee and yourself, so if you claimed her as your daughter there would be few who would be capable of discerning the fabrication. However, legitimizing a bastard will impact your marriage prospects in the future. Although this is not as significant a consequence for the common or merchant classes, it would make a potential marriage into the nobility extremely problematic.”

“Oh,” Markus replied, somewhat surprised by what Zoe had meant, “Is that all?” Beyond his work with the Guild and perhaps opening a business or being employed by a wealthy family, Markus hadn't considered the implications much farther than that.

Zoe seemed a little taken aback, “This is quite serious, though I am sure many have illegitimate children, a known bastard is a blemish on an entire family's character.” Her discomfort with the topic was now abundantly clear, Zoe had been classically educated like all children of the aristocracy so it was hardly surprising she found this subject so distasteful in general.

“I don't have a family to worry about that sort of thing,” Markus's response again seemed to have caught Zoe unprepared. “There is only me.”

“Oh...” Zoe didn't seem to know what to say. After a drawn-out silence between them, she tentatively broke the silence, “I-I’m sorry.”

Markus shrugged, taking care to look away to avoid the pity in her eyes. “I have no memory of them, so there is nothing to apologize for.” Markus couldn't remember anything beyond five years ago, and most of those memories were unreliable.

Markus even had chosen his name as necessity had demanded and thought little of it. In the past five years, no one had come looking for him and he had no memories of parents or siblings to attempt finding them with if they were even alive at all. Markus couldn't help but feel like the absence of his family was what had driven his intervention in the first place.

“I’m sorry,” Zoe repeated, “It was not my intention to upset you.” Despite her sincerity, Zoe’s expression made her seem more curious than sympathetic.

“It’s fine. You can't miss people you don't know,” Markus's reply seemed to have struck a chord in Zoe as she again made to give voice to a question or assumption but thought better of it and remained silent. “Do you think laying claim to Arlee will be enough?” Markus's knowledge of court intrigue and noble etiquette was severely limited, and what little he knew was not particularly helpful.

Zoe nodded, “I believe so. It is most likely that the wastrel will think that you have either been tricked into believing Arlee is your daughter, or will simply consider it his good fortune that you have mistaken her for your daughter. In both instances, it is very unlikely he would intervene in their lives any farther as it would only serve to implicate his true relationship with her.” Zoe tapped her boot heel nervously as she continued, “But there is also a chance that he will take your intervention as an insult or perhaps as a step in a future machination against him.” She paused and shrugged at Markus apologetically, “Without knowing the man in question, I can only guess at what he would do.”

Markus began kneading his temples to help alleviate his rising stress and anxiety. There were no guarantees in life, there would always be things outside of his control, always something he couldn't account for and prepare for. “I’ll do it,” Markus had expected his stress to increase in response to his new commitment, but was surprised to find a profound sense of peace accompanying the decision instead. “So long as her mother agrees to it of course. Is there anything special I have to do? Filing documents or making declarations in front of witnesses?” Again Markus was reminded that he had no idea as to how he was meant to go about something like this.

Less sombre and more cheerful now that they had moved on to a comparatively more pleasant area of discussion, Zoe seemed quite eager to explain. “Because you are already registered with the adventurers Guild, you can circumvent what would otherwise be a rather lengthy process. You may remember that during your application you were asked to list and state your relationship to known relatives? Well, you can request to adjust that information and add Arlee to the record as your daughter. Because of the nature of the centralized Guild and government records in the kingdom, your altered information will be legally binding.” Zoe smiled reassuringly, “It sounds more intimidating a prospect than it actually is. It would also probably be best if Arlee takes your family name and becomes accustomed to using it. Your last name will provide an added layer of a deterrent not just to her biological father, but also to other ne'er do wells as well, provided you do in fact plan to stay or at least frequently return to this town.”

Markus agreed with Zoe’s assessment and was genuinely surprised by how easy it would be to make such a significant change in their lives. “This is, of course, assuming her mother agrees,” Markus said, though he doubted Abigail would object once she had time to get to know Markus better.

“Of course,” Zoe agreed, her smile shifting into an impish grin, “It is a pleasant change of pace to see noble custom used for a righteous cause for a change.”

Markus was thinking of a response to what she had said but was interrupted as Arlee peeked her head around the door, “Mister! Mama wants to talk with you.”

“Will you be dining with me this evening?” Zoe asked rather hurriedly as Markus got to his feet and began walking away.

Pausing to think about it, Markus could think of several things he would rather do, but he felt guilty since Zoe had been so helpful. “Yeah,” Judging by her dampened enthusiasm, Markus had to admit he had not sounded particularly thrilled in confirming his attendance. “I’ll be there-” He amended, taking care to inject a healthy level of enthusiasm this time, even if he didn’t feel it Zoe seemed to appreciate the effort. As he was about to enter Abigail's room, Markus stopped and turned back to face Zoe again, she had gotten to her feet as well and was getting ready to leave. “Thank you for your help, I appreciate it,” Markus made the effort to flash her a smile.

Seemingly caught off guard it took Zoe a few seconds before she could react, “You're welcome!” She smiled shyly in return before quickly turning away.

Abigail was sitting upright in the bed, apparently waiting patiently for Markus and Zoe to have said their farewells to one another. Tall and lithe, Abigail’s rich auburn hair and slate-blue eyes made her maternal connection to Arlee obvious, although Markus was still nonetheless taken aback by how radically her appearance had changed in such a small space of time. Abigail was fair featured, if perhaps a little gaunt, but Markus could see why a nobleman would risk scandal in pursuit of a clandestine tryst.

Arlee had once again scrambled up and onto her mother's bed and was making herself comfortable on her lap.

Idly stroking Arlee’s hair with one hand, Abigail motioned to the foot of her bed with the other, “Please, sit.”

Markus was surprised by the absence of honorifics most people stubbornly clung to when speaking with him. It was not an altogether unwelcome change of pace. He felt quite thankful for the familiarity.

Once Markus had been seated, Abigail took a few moments to consider him, her eyes boring into him as if searching for something. Only once she was satisfied with what she found or perhaps by what was absent, did she deign to speak. “Mr Markus, you have my fervent gratitude for your timely intervention in saving my life and caring for my daughter,” Abigail's voice was gentle, almost melodious, no doubt well suited for laughter and song which saddened Markus that she had probably little cause or opportunity for either in recent days. “Thank you! Truly!” Tears briefly welled in the corners of Abigail’s eyes before trickling down her cheeks but she did not attempt to brush them aside nor hide her face and recompose herself. “For too long I allowed my pride and anger to unfairly rule my daughter's life-” Her eyes lowered in shame “-I had thought I was doing what was best for Arlee’s future, but I nearly stole it from her instead”.

Markus shook his head despite knowing she wouldn't see the gesture, “You were doing the best you could, I am sure, I am not so certain I would have fared better in your place.” It wasn't a comforting lie or half-truth, Markus doubted he would have done half so well in the same position, the absence of his family perhaps a testament to a man despised and reviled for good reason.

Abigail took a few minutes to compose herself, bending over and lifting Arlee to kiss her hair and hug her tightly.

“S’ok mama,” Arlee mumbled comfortingly into her mother's chest while using her one good arm to hug her back just as tightly.

Feeling that he was intruding on an intimate family moment, Markus looked pointedly away. The unfiltered affection shared by mother and daughter both lifted his spirits while also reminding him of what he lacked. Sometimes Markus entertained the idea that his mother was looking for him, her sadness and longing a fleeting balm for his heart. The problem with such musings was the intense melancholy that took hold afterwards, lasting days or sometimes weeks. Markus’s resolution was that it was best not to entertain such self-destructive thoughts, and yet he kept doing it all the same.

“I am sorry-” Abigail’s voice broke Markus free of his reverie, “-it has been so long since I have seen my Arlee in such health.”

“It’s alright,” Markus replied, shaking his head.

“I-I don't have anything to repay your kindness,” Abigails sounded sincere but also apprehensive with an unspoken expectation that Markus would begin making demands in short order.

“It’s alright,” Markus repeated, letting out a quiet sigh and regarding his injured hand as he continued, “I intervened because I wanted to and because I could, because-” The glib responses he had given Zoe earlier sliding off his tongue without thought, “-I couldn't live with myself if I didn't.” Markus hadn’t meant to say that and frowned slightly.

Abigail’s expression softened again, her doubts regarding his character seemingly quashed for the time being, “Surely there is something I can do to repay you?”

Markus shook his head, “No, maybe, I am not sure, but there is something more I would like to do for the both of you.”

Abigail appeared to be cautiously optimistic, gently rubbing Arlee’s back while patiently waiting for him to elaborate further.

“One of the hospital staff told me why you weren't treated sooner and-” Markus took a steadying breath to ease his nerves, “-and I would like to help if you will let me.”

Abigail seemed suddenly both apprehensive and confused, “What do you mean?”.

Rolling his shoulders to try and ease his mounting stress, Markus did his best to meet her gaze and hoped his intentions were not misinterpreted. “I-I want to claim Arlee.”

Abigail's brow furrowed in immediate suspicion and she drew Arlee towards her protectively wrapping her daughter in her arms and drawing Arlee away from him.

Flinching, Markus did his best to press on, “No not like that,” he raised his hands placatingly to put Abigail at ease again, “I want to legitimize her as my daughter.”

Abigail seemed confused, still clutching Arlee protectively against her chest, “But you are not-”.

“I know,” Markus interrupted, “But it would remedy some of your problems and help you avoid a situation like this in the future.”

Abigail seemed sceptical, “Why would you damage your reputation for someone you barely know?”

Markus understood where she was coming from and knew it would be difficult for someone not privy to his innermost thoughts to come to terms with. “Your daughter loves you, and I can see that you love her. That's enough reason for me.”

It was clear that Abigail was struggling to pin down Markus's motives and character, earnestly comparing his words and actions against one another but was still left with far too many unknowns.

“I am planning on buying a house since I will be working from this town for the foreseeable future.” Markus paused for a moment, unsure of how to segue his true intent but again decided just to plough on through and hope for the best, “Regardless of your decision, both of you are welcome to live there as long as you want to.”

Abigail's eyes went wide and in surprise, her mouth opening and closing unable to find the words. Whatever she had expected Markus to say, this had not been it.

“I have no known blood relatives, so if I die the contents of my Guild account and my property would be left to Arlee as well.” Markus realized the offer was perhaps a little too enticing and decided it might be best to temper expectations and suspicions with an additional component of the exchange. “If you feel the offer is too generous, I wouldn't mind some help in keeping the place clean and tidy. A live-in housekeeper if you will.”

“I don't know what to say,” Abigail shook her head in disbelief.

“We can live in a house with Mister?” Arlee asked, no doubt excited by the prospect of living in a real house, she was wriggling and squirming in her mother's arms.

“If you and your mother want to,” Markus answered, trying to buy more time for Abigail to make her decision, realizing too late that he had just made her decision more difficult.

Abigail just shook her head, still dazed and trying to come to grips with the scope of Markus’s offer.

“I want mama to be happy-” Arlee squeezed her mother tightly “I-I don't want you to be sick anymore Mama!”

All at once, Abigail’s reservations were swept aside by a tide of guilt, “Okay,” she squeezed Arlee back, “I accept your offer Mr Markus.”.Fully committed for better or worse, Abigail desperately searched Markus's eyes one final time.

“Alright. I have already left sufficient compensation with the staff for both you and your daughter to stay as long as you need to in order to recuperate, as well as for some clean clothes for once you are ready to leave.” Markus stood up and stretched in preparation to leave. “I will make arrangements with the Guild this evening to settle Arlee’s paternity and will look into buying a house tomorrow, I’ll send word to Ms Hena once everything has been sorted out.”

“W-wait!” Abigail stammered just as Markus was crossing the threshold.

Markus stopped and looked back just in time for Arlee to crash into him again, thankfully avoiding his groin this time. Reaching down, Markus ruffled her hair affectionately, “Careful” he chuckled.

“Mister, don't go!” Arlee locked her small arm around his leg and made a laughable but endearing attempt at dragging Markus back into the room again.

Carefully kneeling to Arlee’s level, Markus looked her in the eyes, “It’s okay, I'll be back. I just have to go buy the house for us to live in okay?”

Arlee looked like she was going to cry again, “You promise?”

“I promise,” Markus drew Arlee in for an awkward hug. Releasing the embrace and tussling her hair again, Markus gently nudged Arlee back towards her mother, “Go on, you need to look after your mother while I’m away okay?”

“Okay,” Arlee sniffled, scampering back over to her mother and cuddling her again.

Markus waved goodbye to both of them and left the hospital.

While waiting for the dinner that evening with Zoe Chavare, Markus had altered his Guild information to list Arlee Lintou as his daughter. It had been just as easy as Zoe had said it would be, taking only a few minutes to change his information and make sure that it was matched by the town registry.

Surprisingly the Guild also had ready access to a list of available properties both within the town walls and the surrounding countryside. Markus had already spent over an hour in one of the back rooms casually reading through the different listings on a general information panel mounted in the desk. Now on his second pass through the property listings, since he had discovered that he had enough coin for the privilege, Markus was interested only in ownership and not renting. He had narrowed his attention to one property in particular.

The building in question was a three-storied shop and residential dwelling in the trader’s district. Markus had walked past the property earlier that day and it seemed more or less structurally sound so far as he could tell, in need of minor renovations perhaps, but it more or less seemed fine.

The store space and workshop were a nice bonus and would allow Markus to transition from adventuring once he was in a position to do so. The price was reasonable at eighty-six crowns and three shillings, particularly for the size of the building as well as the convenience and security offered by the town itself. Purchasing the property would still leave Markus with well over half his share of the rewards from the bounties. Still, thinking it best to at least sleep on it, Markus left the back room and decided to check with the clerks at the front desk again.

“I am sorry sir, there has still been no word from your companions,” The senior clerk apologised.

Nodding his thanks, Markus stepped outside. Svala and Aela’s absence was beginning to make him nervous. “Maybe they just decided to leave?” He thought glumly.

As Svala had explained it, the destruction of a dungeon heart, was a coming of age ritual in their clan and was the primary motivator for their assisting Markus in clearing the dungeon in the first place. So while he may not like the idea of the pair of them up and leaving without so much as saying goodbye, it was definitely possible.

“Markus?” The voice took him so much by surprise that he nearly leapt from his skin. Aela had approached from his blind spot and either had deliberately snuck up on him, or Markus had been too absorbed in his own thoughts to notice.

“Aela! You nearly gave me a heart attack.” Despite the thundering of Markus's heart in his chest making his ribs ache, he was still relieved to see Aela was okay.

The amber of Aela’s eyes flashed with amusement while her altogether knife filled mouth remained hidden by her scarf. “Pay-more-attention. Won’t-be-surprising,” she hissed breathily.

Markus would bet coin Aela was laughing at him but couldn't fault her for it. “Where is Svala? I was beginning to think you two were not going to show up.” He got to his feet and looked up and down the street but saw no trace of Svala.

Aela shook her head, “Mother-is-visiting-home,” she gestured in a direction Markus assumed was North. “Told-Aela-stay, protect-the-Markus.”

“Wait a minute,” Markus was having trouble coming to grips with what she had said, the disruptive stop-starting of her speech as she chose the right words was hardly doing any favours either. “Your mother has gone home?” Markus asked incredulously, “Doesn't she want her share of the bounties? There are money changers with the Guild, I can always have your share changed for northern coins or arrange a transfer.”

Now it was Aela’s turn to be confused. “Mother-not-stay-leaving. Return-with-brothers-and-sister.” Aela stiffened, perhaps realizing she had said more than she should have. “Mother taking bounty when returning,” Aela said hurriedly, maybe hoping that Markus would forget what she had said moments before.

“Wait, what?” Markus tried to rationalize Svalas behaviour, “Is she going home to bring more family to keep your share safe on the return trip home?” It was the more plausible conclusion Markus could think of, there was a lot of coins to both change over as well as safely see home again so he could understand the desire for caution.

“Yesss?” Aela’s lack of conviction in answering with the lie was almost so absurd that it could have been passed off as her having misunderstood the question.

“Aela? What aren't you telling me? I thought we were friends.” Markus felt bad for leveraging Aela’s obvious need for emotional validation, but the potential ramifications behind her lie were more than enough justification to assuage his guilt.

“Friends?” Aela asked, “Ist Freunde?”, seemingly caught off guard she began to smile, “Friends, yes, Markus and Aela friends!” Aela fidgetted and muttered quietly to herself before looking Markus in the eyes again, “Mother-bring-Aela-brothers-and-sister-kill-more-dungeons-for-Markus.”

“Oh,” Markus now felt a little bad for manipulating Aela over something so benign, “Erm Aela?”.

“Yes, friend-Markus?” Aela moved in closer as she spoke.

Markus was beginning to regret toying with Aela’s emotions, particularly since his concerns had been so unfounded, “Um so, I am attending a dinner tonight, would you like to go with me?”It was important to stay on good terms with Aela and her family after all. Besides, He has seen what she was capable of and didn’t mind the prospect of someone watching his back in case something untoward were to occur.

“Yes!” Aela replied with excessive eagerness, leaning in close enough that Markus could hear her heavy breathing.

Markus smiled nervously while trying to create some distance between the two of them in such a way that it didn't look too conspicuous. “I need to start thinking things through a little better,” Markus thought, regretting his recent choices.