Refusal

The canteen had fallen into a tense silence after the battle, with only the crackling of the hearth and the occasional groan of settling wood breaking the stillness. The patrons, though still wary, had begun to relax, reassured by the dead creature at their feet and the knowledge that the immediate threat had passed. Gorik, Eldrin, and Henry sat near the hearth, the flickering flames casting long shadows on their faces.

Gorik leaned back in his chair, the tension in his muscles slowly unwinding as he sipped from a tankard of ale. His gaze flicked to Henry, who sat quietly, his expression unreadable. Eldrin was beside Gorik, his mind still racing from the events of the night. Despite the relative calm, he could feel a storm brewing between the three of them, an unspoken tension that had only grown stronger since the battle ended.

"Good work back there," Gorik finally said, breaking the silence. His voice was rough but genuine, tinged with the remnants of adrenaline. "But there's more out there tonight. With the Red Moon still high, we'll see more beasts before dawn. If we head out now, we can gain some experience, maybe level up a bit."

Eldrin nodded in agreement, the idea of earning more experience appealing to him despite his exhaustion. The night had been harrowing, but he knew that every battle, every challenge, brought him closer to becoming stronger, to surviving in this unforgiving realm.

Henry, however, remained silent, his eyes fixed on the flames. His face was set in a mask of indifference, the praise from Gorik seeming to slide off him like water off a stone. He twirled a small dagger between his fingers, his thoughts clearly elsewhere.

Gorik, noticing Henry's lack of response, leaned forward, his brow furrowing. "What do you say, Henry? We could use your skills out there. Three of us together could take on some serious beasts, make the night worthwhile."

Henry's eyes finally flicked up to meet Gorik's, his expression cool and distant. "I don't see the point," he said, his voice calm but with an edge of arrogance that set Eldrin's teeth on edge. "We already dealt with the biggest threat of the night. There's nothing out there worth my time."

Gorik's eyes narrowed, the casual tone of Henry's words striking a nerve. "Nothing worth your time?" he repeated, his voice hardening. "There are beasts out there tearing people apart, and you think there's nothing worth your time?"

Henry shrugged, sheathing the dagger with a practiced flick of his wrist. "I'm not interested in fighting for the sake of fighting. I took down that creature because it was a threat, not because I wanted to gain experience or prove something." His gaze shifted to Eldrin, who had been watching the exchange with growing unease. "And I'm certainly not interested in playing hero with a couple of amateurs."

Eldrin felt a flush of anger rise in his chest, the insult cutting deep. He opened his mouth to retort, but Gorik beat him to it, slamming his tankard down on the table with enough force to make the other patrons jump.

"Is that what you think of us?" Gorik growled, his eyes blazing with fury. "That we're just a couple of amateurs who don't know what we're doing? I've been fighting in these lands for longer than you've probably been alive, and Eldrin here might be new, but he's got more heart than most men I've met."

Henry didn't flinch at Gorik's outburst, his expression remaining impassive. "Heart doesn't mean much in a fight," he said, his voice cool and dismissive. "Skill does. And you might have skill, Gorik, but I'm not interested in carrying someone else's burden. Especially not out there, where one mistake could get us all killed."

Eldrin's fists clenched under the table, the sting of Henry's words hitting him hard. He knew he wasn't as experienced as Gorik or as skilled as Henry, but he had been doing his best, fighting alongside them and trying to learn as quickly as he could. To hear Henry dismiss him so easily, as if he were nothing more than a liability, made the anger bubble up even more.

"You don't have to carry anyone's burden," Eldrin said, his voice low but firm. "We're supposed to be a team, not people out for themselves. If we go out there together, we can watch each other's backs, make sure no one gets killed. Isn't that what it's supposed to be about?"

Henry's eyes flicked to Eldrin, and for a moment, a flicker of something—maybe doubt, maybe regret—crossed his face. But it was gone as quickly as it had appeared, replaced by the same cold indifference.

"I don't need a team," Henry replied, his tone final. "I work better alone. I don't have to worry about anyone else slowing me down or making mistakes."

Gorik stood up, the chair scraping against the floor as he pushed it back. He was a large man, and when he loomed over someone, it was impossible to ignore the sheer force of his presence. "You arrogant son of a—" he began, but he cut himself off, visibly trying to rein in his temper.

Taking a deep breath, Gorik continued, his voice still rough but more controlled. "You might think you're better off alone, Henry, but that's where you're wrong. I've seen men like you before—too proud, too sure of themselves. And they always end up the same way: dead. Out there, you need people you can trust. People who've got your back when things go to hell."

Henry stood as well, not intimidated by Gorik's size or intensity. "I've survived just fine on my own so far," he said, his voice steady. "And I intend to keep it that way."

Gorik's eyes narrowed, the last of his patience wearing thin. "You're making a mistake, Henry. Out there, it's not just about surviving—it's about living to fight another day. And that's something you can't do alone, no matter how good you think you are."

Henry didn't respond immediately, his gaze locked with Gorik's. The tension between them crackled in the air, thick enough to cut. Eldrin watched the exchange, feeling torn between the two men. He understood Gorik's point—knew that they were stronger together than apart—but he also saw the stubbornness in Henry, the pride that wouldn't let him back down.

Finally, Henry shook his head, breaking the standoff. "You can go out there if you want," he said, his tone dismissive. "But I'm staying here. I've already done more than enough tonight."

With that, he turned and walked away, leaving Gorik and Eldrin standing by the hearth, the anger simmering between them like the embers in the fire.

Gorik watched Henry go, his fists clenched at his sides. He was clearly furious, but also frustrated, knowing that there was nothing he could do to change Henry's mind. Eldrin could see the conflict in Gorik's eyes—the desire to knock some sense into Henry, but also the realization that doing so wouldn't accomplish anything.

"Let him go," Eldrin said quietly, placing a hand on Gorik's arm. "He's not worth it."

Gorik let out a long, slow breath, the tension slowly leaving his body. "You're right," he muttered, though the frustration was still evident in his voice. "But that doesn't mean it doesn't piss me off."

Eldrin nodded in understanding. "We can handle this ourselves. We don't need him."

Gorik looked at Eldrin, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You've got guts, kid. I like that. All right, let's head out there and see what we can find. But we'll be smart about it—no unnecessary risks. We've already had enough close calls for one night."

Eldrin nodded, feeling a surge of determination. "Agreed. Let's do this."

As they gathered their weapons and prepared to head out into the night, the tension in the canteen began to dissipate, replaced by a focused resolve. Gorik and Eldrin might not have had Henry's skills or speed, but they had something just as important: trust in each other. And in a place as dangerous as Draventh, that could make all the difference.

The night outside was still dark, the Red Moon casting an eerie glow over the landscape. But as Gorik and Eldrin stepped out into the shadows, they did so with a shared purpose, ready to face whatever dangers awaited them.

They might not have been the most experienced or the most skilled, but they were a team—and that, Eldrin knew, would be enough to see them through.