Chapter 45 – Unwelcome Reunion

It looked very much like the goblin knew it no longer had anything to lose. The expression on the creature's face said that if he was going to go down, then he was taking one of them with him. Titus cursed under his breath, thinking fleetingly that if he'd just stayed back and near the young Arena Hand, then he might've seen this coming. But then he knew he needed to help in that fight because he couldn't have been sure they'd have been able to win the fight without him either.

He didn't have time to ponder. The goblin, coming to some internal conclusion, pulled on the blade against Jacob's neck causing the boy to squeal. The movement was slow and the goblin licked his lips as Jacob's blood began to trickle down his neck.

Jacob bit his lip as the blade continued to move millimetre by millimetre, dragging his skin apart where the knife required sharpening. Titus was frozen to the spot; he knew that a single move could've meant the end of Jacob.

And then Titus noticed something happen in his peripheral vision. He wasn't sure what it was, but by the time he'd even thought about turning to look, he saw Petra appear not a foot away from the goblin and before the creature even had the chance to exclaim, Petra had slid her stiletto into its eye with the tip of the blade suddenly protruding from the back of its head.

There was no more damage to be done to Jacob, because the goblin froze with a very shocked look on its face before sliding away from the boy and falling to the ground in a heap.

Petra though, wasn't quite done yet, because Jacob, who'd turned sheet-white in fear, immediately lost consciousness and fell directly into the Rogue's arms. She had to be careful not to stab the poor boy, still clinging onto her Stiletto of Minor Poisoning; that would be a situation they really didn't want to have to deal with.

Red blood quickly began spilling from the half-cut on Jacob's neck, and Petra immediately sheathed her dagger and placed her hand over the wound.

"We need help. But I don't think he'll make it if we head back to the Arena," she said softly.

"Did you see anyone nearby?" Jordan asked. "Should we call out? Or split up to go and look."

"We can't," Petra said, shaking her head. "There could be more monsters out there, and I don't think we'd win another fight like that. Not without having the chance to rest and heal first."

"Then what? Wait and hope?" Jordan asked.

"I know somewhere we can go," Titus interrupted without looking at either of them. "I grew up pretty close to here. I think it's about a five-minute walk or so. Maybe if we carry him and we're quick…" He trailed off without finishing his sentence. He knew it was the only thing to do, as much as he wasn't quite ready to go home yet. There was no way he was going to put Jacob's life at risk just because he didn't want to face his father again and that damned witch Millicent.

"I'll carry him," Jordan announced, moving over to Petra to take Jacob from her. The young Arena Hand was still unconscious, and Titus could only think that it was probably a good thing. Nobody would want to watch themselves bleed out after all.

After the fight, Jordan was the worst of all of them save for Jacob. He'd taken a myriad of cuts and grazes that had managed to breach both his shield and his plate, leaving him with health points only just in the double digits. Titus had lost a handful of his own health points, and Petra was still at full health. It was clear to them all that in the fight they'd just made it through, agility and speed were the deciding factors, though without Jordan and his Taunt ability, Titus knew they wouldn't have survived either. Once again, Titus was the only one in the party who could've been anyone.

"It's that way," Titus said once Jordan had taken Jacob in a cradling carry. They'd briefly discussed taking the weapons from the goblins or looting their corpses for anything good, but in the end it all sounded a bit dark, so they left them for someone else to find. Besides, they really didn't have the time.

Titus had indeed been correct. The walk was only five minutes whilst carrying Jacob, a feat that Jordan had actually said was easier than he would've imagined – presumably thanks to his increased strength stat. They'd also discussed running, as they all thought they would've been able to without too much trouble. But then Petra had pointed out that bouncing Jacob up and down in his state probably wasn't for the best.

Before long, the group had made it to the bakery where Titus had grown up. As soon as he saw the small wooden building as they approached, his heart sank at the memory of the last time he'd spoken to his father, and he wondered what exactly he was going to say to him this time. It was true that he'd made friends he wouldn't have otherwise, and he enjoyed the luxuries of life as a Contestant, but neither he nor his father knew that when he'd been sent away, and if anything, both of them had thought that Titus was most likely being sent off to his death.

But Titus also knew that surely it wasn't his father's fault. He still harboured the suspicion that his evil stepmother Millicent was a witch and had been poisoning his father against him for some time.

This was too important though. To weigh the life of a young Arena Hand up against his own feelings of betrayal, anxiety, and anger wasn't even a contest. He would suck it up, and that was that.

"You want me to rough up that stepmother of yours?" Petra asked as the group all approached the wooden door. "Nothing too bad, just let her know how you feel kind of thing?"

Titus smiled at the joke. Well, at least he assumed it was a joke, but he didn't have time to respond as Jordan banged loudly on the door.

A moment passed, and Titus felt his heart beating as hard as the first time he'd stood alone in the pits to face off against a Giant Rat.

And then the door opened.

His heart sank.

It was not his father, but Millicent.

"Oh my!" she exclaimed, "What's happened here? Come in and let's see what we can do to help."

Millicent moved out of the way to let the group inside, and Petra caught Titus' eye as they trooped in, raising her eyebrows in a very 'so this is the evil woman?' kind of way.

"Go straight through to the kitchen," Millicent said as they passed, genuine concern in her tone. "Take as many rags as you need and put pressure on the wound. I'll see what else I can do. Are the rest of you all OK? Titus, It's so good to see you again; your father's not home yet, but I'm sure he's going to be pleased as well."

Titus could see Millicent's face clearly in the light from all the candles and torches that littered the place, and no matter how hard he tried, he could see no hidden malice there.

"Thank you," Jordan said. "He's unconscious at the moment, but I think it's just the shock. There were goblins in the City…"

"I heard the alarm," Millicent said with wide eyes. "I hope everyone's OK."

Jordan disappeared first down the hallway and into the kitchen on the left, followed shortly by Petra, leaving Titus and Millicent last.

"Where's my father?" Titus asked as they walked slowly behind the rest.

"Oh, he just went to the tavern, but he'll be back any minute, I'm sure. Why don't you make yourself at home… uh, I mean…"

Titus nodded. The pleasantries were kind of making him feel sick, and he had no idea what Millicent's game was here. She'd never liked him. Hell, she'd never sounded so caring in all the time Titus had had the misfortune to know her.

"Let me see the wound," Millicent said as they regrouped in the kitchen, and Jordan dutifully removed the cloth to reveal Jacob's neck, which was still bleeding freely when absent any pressure. It was a Godsend that the cut wasn't any longer.

"OK, it looks like a clean cut," Millicent said. "Keep the pressure on and lay him down on the table there, might as well be comfortable because this is going to take a while."

"Uh," Petra said. "What's going to take a while, exactly?"

"Just you wait and see," Millicent replied with a warm smile. "I'm sure we'll be able to do something to fix him up good as new. Oh, and there's plenty of bread on the counter there, help yourself, and the butter's good too."

Petra's initial questioning eyebrows returned to Titus as Millicent left the room in search of whatever it was she was looking for.

"And that's your evil stepmother is it?" She asked with a smirk. "The witch that turned your father against you and turfed you out?"

Titus could only stare at her. He'd never experienced this side of Millicent before, but thinking about it, he'd never been with her and a group of other people either. This was something entirely different from what he'd been expecting.

"I… I don't know…" Titus could only stammer. "This isn't… she wasn't…"

But then Titus was cut off by Millicent coming back into the room carrying a small leather-bound pouch.

"This will help, but I'd say you need to get him to a healer as soon as you can," she said.

She lay the pouch out on the table beside Jacob and unfurled it with the sound of clinking glass and then the contents of the pouch were visible to everyone. Titus could see that inside were a few glass bottles and jars, and a handful of different herbs and flowers.

Millicent then began crushing some of the plants with a kind of pestle and mortar, adding a little water until the mixture formed into a thick paste.

"Now take the pressure off, and I'll coat the cut in this. It'll stop any infections and hold off the bleeding so the boy can start healing on his own," Millicent ordered.

Jordan did as he was ordered, and Titus watched as Millicent swiftly, yet gently, smeared her paste-thing onto Jacob's cut. As soon as she'd finished, the bleeding had stopped, and although Jacob was still unconscious, somehow he looked far more comfortable.

"Just give it a minute to let it set, and then you can get him back to the Arena," Millicent said with a smile. "As long as you don't move him around too much, the paste will set and stay in place. It'll do some work towards healing the cut, but it's not something that'll do all of the healing on its own."

"Thank you," Jordan said with a half-smile. "I don't know what would've happened if you weren't here."

"Oh, don't you worry about any of that," Millicent said. "What kind of people would we be if we didn't help however we could? And to welcome my son back into our home no less. I'm so happy to see you back home, safe and well, Titus."

Titus looked up at Millicent, a confused expression covering his face. All of this was just so wrong that he didn't know where to start.

"Are you joking?" Titus couldn't help but blurt out. "You spent all the time I've known you turning my father against me, and now you act like… like this? Like you've missed me or something?"

It was like his mouth was forming the words before his mind could engage, but with every word Titus felt like the more he said, the better he felt about it.

"You turned my father against me. You replaced my mother in our world, and you packed my bags and sent me off to the Arena, and for what? Because you didn't want me getting in the way of your little schemes? You're nothing but a low-life witch, and I don't know what your game is, but I'm sure as hell not playing!"

Titus hadn't realised it, but by the time he'd finally stopped speaking he had balled his fists, was practically shaking, and had taken steps to stand closer to Millicent, bearing down on her menacingly. Well, as menacingly as he could manage being smaller than her and still only a young teenager. Nevertheless, he was a Blue-Ranked Contestant in the Arena. He'd killed monsters, learned how to fight and even awakened to the presence of the God of Balance, and that meant something to him.

"I can see that you're upset, Titus," Millicent said entirely calmly. "Why don't I make us all some tea, and we can all sit down and talk about this?"

"I don't want to…" Titus began to raise his voice again, ready to shout, but a delicate hand on his shoulder stopped him. When he turned to see who it was, he was met with the half-smiling face of his friend Petra.

"Titus," Petra said in a soothing tone that matched Millicent's. "There's no need to get upset here; we're all safe, and we've got your back. Just try to calm down a little, OK?"

"She's got to you too, hasn't she?" Titus asked. "After just a few minutes, and this is what happens. It's no wonder she managed to get me kicked out of the house and put my father under her spell!"

"Titus, listen to Petra," Jordan offered his own insight. "Shouting and making accusations isn't going to help anyone. Plus, she's helping Jacob, so what do you really have to lose?"

And then as though in answer to that very question, the front door to the bakery swung open and Titus' father strode inside, straight into the kitchen where he would find Titus, his fists still balled, Millicent looking mostly unbothered, a young boy and girl seemingly holding Titus back from attacking his wife, and a third young boy – younger than the rest – covered in blood laid out on the kitchen table with a brown paste covering half of his neck.

Titus' father opened and closed his mouth a few times before managing to say anything. He looked at everyone a few times too, with all of the occupants in the bakery remaining entirely still and silent.

And then he did something that Titus never thought he would see his father do. He backed away from him. He actually looked like he was scared of his own son. His own son that he'd sent away. And it made Titus' heart sink.

But there was nothing he could do.

His father had made his initial impression of the situation, and he was scared.