Author:
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Fandom: Epic NPC Man (Viva La Dirt League)
Characters: Baelin, with mentions of Willow and the Adventurer.
Setting: During the events of Baelin’s Route.
Rating: PG.
Length: 905 words.
Summary: What happens when you recruit an NPC so insignificant that the devs forgot to apply rules to him?
Notes: The entire short film this fic is based on can be watched HERE on YouTube. I highly recommend it. :)
Baelin knew he should have been dead.
It was all the fisherman could do to focus on taking one step after another, on slowing his heart to match the steady crunch of gravel along the path that was his lifeline. He gripped his fishing rod tightly, seeking comfort in its familiar solidness between his fingers; but its reminder of the simple reality he had always known could not lighten the bewildering weight of new experience.
He could do nothing but wonder what was happening to him.
There had been no pain or harm when the Adventurer’s bomb exploded at his feet. Merely a flash of blinding white—but it was not followed by the oblivion he had a fleeting second’s time to expect. Instead he merely felt himself still standing, intact and unharmed, while the whiteness around him slowly dissolved into the detonation’s lingering cloud of smoke.
As the outline of the cruel Adventurer took shape through that smoke, an alien spark of anger had ignited within the fisherman. Anger at the man for mistreating Willow, for dragging him from the path he knew, and more than that…
For awakening something inside him that he couldn’t begin to comprehend.
He’d felt that much the moment the Adventurer shouted “Recruit!” in his face. It went beyond even the grip of the unknown force that suddenly took hold of him, compelling him to follow the brute when he did not wish to, or the strange new reflexes that moved his limbs to defend himself and then Willow. No, in that instant, it was as if something else had unlocked deep within his brain… and it was terrifying to him.
Maybe that fear above all was why he lashed out at the Adventurer.
The fear did not abate when the man lay crumpled at his feet, bleeding from one powerful blow. If anything it was only sharpened, because then Baelin knew that something had gone very, very wrong with the universe.
This wasn’t him. Not as he knew himself, so simple a creature that there was practically nothing to know.
He didn’t understand it. He didn’t want it. He only wanted to follow his path in peace.
“Will you help me?”
Baelin didn’t want to be involved in Willow’s troubles either. He just wanted to clear his mind of everything that had happened: to flee back to the familiar confines of Honeywood, and lose himself once more in the reassurance of the town’s equally unchanging rhythms. He never even agreed to accompany the girl—not that she was likely to understand that, even if he said so. No one ever understood him, after all.
She followed him regardless, for they were both heading toward the same road that diverged to their separate destinations. At first he paid her little heed along the way, consumed by his own inner confusion and turmoil… but even so, she somehow managed to start an argument with him.
In its own way, finding that she did seem to understand him was as frightening as his striking the Adventurer, and it only fueled his urgency to get away.
…But then the orcs happened.
Compared to the Adventurer, the strength of the orcs took him by surprise. In a mere moment he found himself on his knees in their grasp, staring up the length of a wicked blade pointed at his throat.
Yet in that same moment, the fear melted away, as something in him realized the truth.
Baelin couldn’t die.
Just as the Adventurer’s bomb could not kill him, neither would the swords of the orcs. He’d been right to think the universe had gone wrong somewhere—but it happened long before the Adventurer stumbled across his path. The simple truth was that all along, he’d been such a completely and perfectly insignificant being that he fell through the cracks of mortality itself. The universe not only didn’t care that he lived, it couldn’t even be bothered to end his life when by all rights it should.
When he glared back in defiance at the leader of the orc band, he thought he knew exactly how things were going to play out.
Let them try to kill him, then. When they were startled to see that he failed to die, he could take them by surprise in turn. Now that he knew their strength, he and his newfound fighting skill would be prepared for it.
He braced himself for the blade…
But then, out of nowhere, Willow hurled herself upon the leader’s back, clawing and screaming at the creature to leave him alone. The girl who had been regarded as a prize by bandits and orcs alike was trying to defend him, a mere fisherman of such absolute inconsequence that the very laws of the universe overlooked him.
When the orc threw her off, she struck a tree and was still; and as another understanding filled Baelin, his earlier anger at the Adventurer was suddenly dwarfed by a new rage.
If Willow’s life was so valuable, then taking her life would deprive others of that value. Unlike him, her loss would have meaning to someone; enough meaning for the universe to pay attention to.
He couldn’t be hurt—but she could.
Baelin questioned no more after that… and when the orcs fell before his wrath, the sound of their skulls cracking was as satisfying as the tug of a trout on his fishing line.
2021 Jordanna Morgan
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