Broken Sword, Broken Trust, Broken Legs

This was Nate's sword!' said one of them upon seeing the weapon. Markus Oakland, an eccentric warrior, owned it. "Why would you take his sword and turn it into some fucking spear?" Markus said as he turned to face Connor. He crumbled when he passed away! All that was left of him was that broken sword.

Connor stiffened under Markus's glare, his grip tightening on the jagged spear in his hand. He opened his mouth to respond but found no words that didn't feel hollow. How could he explain to someone like Markus—the kind of warrior who probably never had to scrounge for scraps of metal to survive?

Markus stepped closer, his voice rising with each word. "That sword was all that was left of him! Something to remember him by. And you—" He jabbed a finger toward Connor's chest. "You turned it into... that."

Connor's temper flared despite the ache in his body. "It was a shattered hunk of metal when I found it!" he snapped. "A useless relic wasn't going to keep me alive!"

The room went silent, the air thick with tension. Jacob shifted uncomfortably beside him, his usual enthusiasm dimmed.

Another adventurer, a man with blond hair and sharp eyes, broke the silence. "Markus, it's not like he stole it from Nate's grave. The sword was already broken; there was nothing that we could have possibly done with it. Maybe you should think of this as the best way to honor it—giving it a second life, a way of remembering him."

Markus turned to her, his face twisted in disbelief. "Honor it? By turning it into a crude weapon?"

I told y'all we shouldn't save them, but Aria wouldn't fucking listen. Markus looked at them. We lost a good warrior, and for what? These freaks? They look like a bad mutated cancer and useless too while pointing at their legs.

Connor couldn't take it anymore. He stepped forward, the spear clanging against the ground as he leaned on it for support. "I didn't have the luxury of thinking about honor or who this scrap piece of metal belonged to; I was just simply trying my very best to make sure I got acquainted with this new world. I didn't know this sword belonged to him.

Connor didn't care. He turned away, his body trembling from the effort of standing. "If Nate's sword was so sacred, maybe it should've done a better job protecting him," he muttered, just loud enough for Markus to hear.

Markus glared at him; Connor's unapologetic tone was annoying. The fire in his eyes dimmed slightly, replaced by a flicker of something else.

"Yo, you've got some nerve! How dare you? He died because we came to rescue you! And this is how you repay him? Acting like his sacrifice meant nothing? You wouldn't even be here if it weren't for him—you and your brother would be dead! We could've just left you both there to rot, but we didn't. And now you talk like his actions didn't save your lives? You're so damn ungrateful!"

The words hung in the air, heavy and unyielding.

Before Markus could say anything else, the man known by the name of Lyle stepped in between them. I think we all need to calm down; he paused, then continued when it comes to whether we made the right call. 

Maybe we did, or maybe we didn't. It's too early to tell. No matter what he said, the pain was evident in his tone; I know it pains Markus, but he is not coming back. We all miss him too. 

Markus looked back at the other adventurers, placed his hand on his face, and walked off in frustration. 

Connor stood there, his breathing uneven as Markus stormed off, muttering under his breath. The others watched him leave in silence, the tension in the air refusing to dissipate.

Jacob, standing stiffly beside Connor, finally spoke up, his voice low but steady. "We never wanted anyone to die. If we could've saved Nate, we would've.

Lyle sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. Look, I know we all know that you didn't mean for any of what happened; it's just that emotions are running a little high right now is all."

Connor glanced at the jagged spear in his hand, his chest tightening. He didn't want to care about Markus's words, especially after calling him a freak, but they struck deeper than he'd like to admit.

Aria stepped forward, her expression softening as she looked at Connor. "We're not trying to diminish what you've been through. But Nate... he was one of us. And his sword—what it represented—it's all that we have left of him. You have to understand why Markus is upset."

Connor's grip on the spear loosened slightly. "I didn't know," he said quietly. "I didn't know it belonged to someone important to you. To me, it was just a broken piece of metal, something I could use to survive."

While his grip loosened on the weapon, he looked at it and then reverted it back to what it was and placed it back to where he had found it.

Aria's gaze softened further, and she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "We get that. But next time, try to ask. Or at least tell someone."

Jacob chimed in, his tone lighter, trying to defuse the tension. "It's not like we have a manual for this world or anything. We're just figuring it out as we go."

Lyle chuckled dryly. "Isn't that the truth?"

The group fell into a hesitant silence. Markus's anger still lingered like a storm cloud over the group of adventurers, but whether or not the edge had dulled will eventually reveal itself.

Aria gave Connor a small nod, signaling the conversation was over for now, before turning to follow Markus.

Connor let out a slow breath, his shoulders slumping. Jacob nudged him with a faint smile. "Hey, at least we didn't get thrown out. Small victories, right?"

Connor snorted, shaking his head. "Yeah. Small victories, he said while looking at his missing legs."