Chapter 27 - It''s Really Okay?

A few hours after the event, Pan was sitting by the fire, he was looking at the crackling wood, the dancing flames and the flying ashes in the wind in contemplation.

 The man Pan now knows as Peter has thanked him endlessly for saving his daughter, as well as himself.

 Normally Pan would think that for a man so polite and full of what he calls "frufru" to have come up with a name so late, it was ironic, or planned. He would normally think it's the second and that the man might not want Pan to know his name in case a misunderstanding occurred on the trip. After all, having a future crusader holding a grudge with you was never good.

 But Pan had no head for his cynical, dark-humored thoughts.  He stared into the fire and wondered over and over again. 'Is it really okay?'

 All right, that's what everyone said, the noble apprentice did more than we could ask for, they said. It was already a miracle that only one of them had died, but Pan wasn't sure. There might have been a way, if he'd thought a little harder, risked a little more.

 A man died today, probably a man with a mother waiting for him at home, or children and a wife, or just friends waiting for him for a happy chat in the usual tavern.

 Beautiful stories about bravery will be told to his children, but that's all he will be from today, history and, in time, only the vague memory of who he was will remain in the minds of those who once loved him, called him family, or friend.  And in the end even that will go away. Only his dried blood will remain, buried in the meadow he's gone.

 'Is it really okay?' Thought Pan.

 But he knew better.

 'This world is rotten and cruel.' Pan thought of something else after the flames died down.

 At dawn.The man and daughter came to him.

 "Noble apprentice, no, noble Pan, I would like to apologize for my previous rude behavior," said the young woman with a part of her forehead purple and swollen from the blow of the sword hilt.

 "Right," Pan replied listlessly.

 "Aha, noble Pan. May I know if you still plan to collaborate with us? Yesterday's events were a disgrace," Peter said as he glared at his guards. "It was night and I was too worried about my dear daughter to be able to think clearly. But what has to be done must be done and I still plan to hunt the mandrakes. What about you?"

 'He didn't even name the guard who died under his command, maybe he doesn't even remember his name.' Thought Pan.

 "Let's go then," replied Pan.

 He didn't respect Peter, nor did he want to help him, but he had to admit that he was right. What has to be done must be done. He can't come back with nothing just because something bad happened… Almost nothing.

 'I have you.' Thought Pan holding the dark brown orb he'd placed in one of the glass jars he's kept in his backpack.

 It took Pan four months to be able to get three measly pots.  Glass was expensive, enchanted was even more so. Pan had to spend almost everything he could earn after applying as an assistant at the library.

 It was a good job, a lot more money than being a dock boy.  He thought he could buy many things, but to his helplessness the items that serve a crusader even as an apprentice cost a fortune.

 Ordinary glass was made of sand. But these were so much more, there were so many reagents and refined by-products to create his composition that Pan even found it hard to believe at times. It felt like more advertising to raise the price.

 But after putting the little sphere in the pot he changed his mind. Whether advertising or not, the product works, the brown ball was sleeping peacefully as if it were in its mother's womb.

 Pan intended to hunt live mandrakes and sell them for good money, repeat the process next month, and then use that money to buy things that might help him with his graduation exam in two months' time.

 'It will be in winter.' Thought Pan as a cool breeze brushed his face. It was early winter and it was getting colder every day, but there was still no snow.