Chapter 18 Ren
Ren
The process of overwintering is an easily understood concept.
Plants that would otherwise die come winter are instead transferred to a sheltered environment, away from the cold that would harm them.
It is a principle, I think, that can be applied to people as well.
When a situation becomes untenable, one must extract oneself from it or otherwise change it to suit.
Much like our botanical brethren, we are far more tenacious and adaptable than we give ourselves credit for.
ELWAN FATLEAF’S BIG BOOK OF BOTANICALS
“Of course I came back. How could I not, after all the things you said – the way you defended me, my clan?” Ren said, barely contained fury scraping across their vocal cords, roughening words that should’ve been sweet.
Unfortunately, not even all the self-control in the world could dampen the sight of Pansy lying flat on her back in the dirt, tossed aside as casually as a piece of trash.
In fact, staying here, with her, rather than barreling towards Agvaldir in a flurry of claws and teeth, had already stretched Ren’s restraint to its absolute limit.
Even now, they strained against the impulse to fly at the wizard, the sneer twisting across his face stoking the fire burning in Ren’s gut like an iron poker. If not for Pansy, sagging into their grasp with all the relief of coming home, they might’ve actually given in.
“You heard all that?” she asked, hazel eyes widening. “I thought you’d left.”
“Not for very long,” Ren admitted, helping her up onto her feet, which she managed with only a slight wobble.
“I realized about halfway up the stairs that it was wrong to blame you for all this. As much as I wish you’d told me the truth, you couldn’t have known what Agvaldir was planning.
Also,” they added after a beat, “in the context of our bet, conceding to you is one thing, but admitting defeat to that miserable wizard over there? That’s something I simply can’t tolerate. ”
“I tried to get him to leave, but…”
“It’s okay. Leave it to me.” Ren then turned to Pansy’s parents, who had finally finished wiggling their way through the crowd, with Blossom barely more than a step behind, and asked, “Can I leave her with you?”
“Of course!” all three of them declared in unison, with Pansy’s mother barking out an additional, “I’m her mother!” as if the question itself had been an insult.
With Pansy safely entrusted into her family’s care, Ren turned their attention back towards Agvaldir, his presence still congealing around them like a stubborn, suffocating clot.
He needed to be dealt with; Ren knew that much.
They’d seen how a single parasite could choke the life out of an otherwise healthy plant if left unchecked, and Agvaldir was exactly that: a parasite, one that needed to be cut out by any means necessary, no matter how distasteful.
Quickly bridging the distance between Agvaldir and themself, Ren slid their dagger free of its sheath and leveled its needle-sharp point at the wizard, now only a handful of paces away.
They ignored the cacophony of startled gasps that unfurled at their back and said, “I think it’s time for you to go. ”
Agvaldir didn’t even so much as flinch, the blade before him seemingly about as terrifying as a limp noodle. Instead, he looked vindicated, his arms sweeping wide in a grand gesture as he addressed the roiling, pale-faced crowd.
“See!” he declared, almost gleefully. “This is exactly why you can’t trust a goblin.
Perhaps they can disguise it for a time, as Miss Underburrow demonstrated for us with her impassioned speech, but a goblin will always revert to their evil nature when push comes to shove. ” His stare hardened. “Always.”
Part of Ren wanted to retreat, to tuck the dagger back in its sheath.
But the heat that flashed through them in that moment was as much anger as it was shame.
Because violence hadn’t been a first or even a second resort here; it was the absolute last, and Ren had only barely reached for it.
They were still talking, the blade in their hand just adding emphasis – at least for now.
Their insides twisted as the very real possibility that they’d have to actually use it dropped into the pit of their stomach like an anvil. Ren hated violence; they hadn’t lied when they’d said as much while visiting the Underburrows at their home. But for Pansy, they’d do anything. Even this.
Agvaldir cast a look back over his shoulder, making eye-contact not with the dwarf, who would’ve undoubtedly jumped at the opportunity to reduce Ren to a fine paste, even without the promise of fresh territory to claim, but with one of the humans, a blond, heavily-stubbled man, who seemed more interested in toying with his dagger than whatever was going on in front of him.
“Take care of this,” Agvaldir said, jerking his chin towards Ren.
The blond man gave one last flip of his knife and, with a heavy sigh, shoved himself off the wall he’d been leaning against. “Really making me work for my cut this time, huh, boss? Staking out the place last night wasn’t enough to pay my dues?”
“Not when you nearly got caught,” grumbled Agvaldir.
“Wait. That was you in the woods?” Pansy blurted, her eyes flying wide.
The blond man grinned.
Quick as a lightning bolt, he darted towards Ren, the dagger’s serrated edge flashing bright in the oppressive glow of the surrounding lanterns.
Miraculously, Ren managed to catch it with their own blade, though the force of the blow sent even their teeth rattling.
They clenched their jaw, steeling themself against the truth coiling in their belly, sour and cold.
This wasn’t even a contest, so wildly were they outmatched.
A single glance at the man’s bored expression proved as much, as did the strike that came thereafter, even stronger than the first.
Ren’s arms gave out almost immediately, their entire being reverberating with the harsh clang of steel against steel.
They only just managed to flatten themself against the earth as their guard broke, sending the man’s blade sweeping through empty air instead of their side.
Unfortunately, there was no time to catch their breath.
Realizing that Ren wasn’t going to go down easy, the man came at them more seriously, his features rearranging themselves into a hard, expressionless mask.
Ren threw themself from one dodge to the next, the world narrowing to nothing beyond the dagger arcing towards them.
Pansy might’ve screamed their name at some point – or, perhaps, several points – but amid the ever-mounting wails of distress, rising from the retreating crowd like a haunt, her voice became nigh on impossible to parse.
Eventually, Agvaldir barked, “Stop toying with them!” Evidently, he hadn’t expected this to take more than a second or two.
But how long had it been exactly? By now, Ren was gasping for breath, their hair clinging to their skin in damp, matted clumps.
A worrying tingle had also started in their joints, the promise that they were close to reaching their limit.
Attacking had never been an option – not against this opponent – and soon, defending themself would be equally impossible.
All they could do was hope they’d bought enough time.
The blond man dove for Ren again, the angle of his blade plain to see.
Perhaps he was getting tired too, sloppy.
Thank the Land for that. Ren needed the break.
They swiveled out of the way, circumventing the man’s dagger with plenty of room to spare – just in time to feel a white-hot lash of pain carve across their opposite side.
“What—” Ren staggered backwards, their free hand flying reflexively to their side.
Hot wetness flooded out from in-between their fingers, red and sticky.
Blood, they realized, with a disconnected sense of awareness, as if they’d been pulled out of their body and left suspended overhead, free to observe like some sort of impartial deity.
The man flashed them a smile, teeth as bright as his dagger, then lifted up what Ren had assumed was his non-dominant hand, revealing another knife, this one painted a deep, sickening crimson. “They never watch the other hand.” He giggled.
Screw you, Ren wanted to say, but they were falling, dropping into the dirt like a stone. Blood pooled around them, quicker than the earth could drink down.
“Ren!” Pansy cried, shoving herself into their line of sight as she collapsed onto her knees beside them. “Oh, gods. You’re— There’s so much blood.” Her fingers, doubtless attempting to apply pressure to the wound, slid uselessly across it, unable to gain solid purchase.
“’m fine…” Ren slurred, their vision going hazy around the edges. “It doesn’t even hurt…”
Clearly, Pansy didn’t consider this a good thing because she let out a half-choked sob, her hands, now shiny and wet, flying to her mouth in distress. Worse, Blossom seemed to agree with her assessment.
“Just stay calm,” she told Ren, a flicker of panic jolting across the otherwise even cadence of her voice as she pressed a cloth against their side. A handkerchief, they realized dimly, cream-colored with tiny sunflowers embroidered into one corner. It was soaked through in seconds.
“Ugh.” Agvaldir rolled his eyes. “Don’t just stand there,” he told his henchman. “Put the goblin out of its misery. We’re not heartless animals here.”
“Don’t you dare!” Pansy snapped, back on her feet before Ren could even blink. She’d picked up their dagger too, discarded on their way down, and held it in front of her with trembling hands, her stance betraying every ounce of her inexperience.
“You gotta… one hand…” Ren tried to say, but their tongue had turned heavy and thick in their mouth, weighed down by the same exhaustion that had drawn over the rest of them.