"She's a nice girl, too. Nicer than your granddaughter, though I'm a bit biased. I've known her since I was a child and we grew up together, in fact I've been betrothed to her since I was born," Ryker continued.
"Why are you telling me all this, brat?"
"I'm just trying to paint a picture," Ryker shrugged, "I thought you had patience after seeing your sword, old man. But it seems that you're quite eager when you want to be, hm?"
Despite his words, Ryker didn't seem to mind the interruption much. His smile had returned, though he had forgotten to carry it forward to his eyes. The darkness of the furnace room and the flickering shadows danced across his face, turning his handsome features into a sinister painting most had never seen before.
"Her name is Jaana, if you were interested. Pretty… No, gorgeous. Probably nothing like you've seen before. She's a bit prickly, but I think that's mostly my fault. She has to be like that to deal with a smart mouth like mine. Oh, and her cooking is immaculate. Her baking? Even better.
"Most would say I don't deserve her. Even I say that a lot of the time. You would probably say that too. But the reasons you would have would probably be because I'm an asshole, that I'm insensitive, that I'm a shit stain, a blight on humanity."
Ryker's smile faded, his lips pressing into a gentle thin line.
"Their reason was very different, though. The reasons I just listed? I can easily accept. Why? Because they're true, at least from the perspective of a normal person. But that's not what they believed.
"Not my uncles. Not their supporters. Not my cousins. Not her family, with maybe the exception of her father--he's a good old man, at least.
"No… Their reasoning was far more unforgivable. It's the kind of slight a man can only cleanse with blood."
"They called you weak." the old blacksmith said slowly.
"Ah!" Ryker's eyes lit up with joy instead of being enraged. "You actually know me so well, old man. Indeed, that is what they said.
"In the beginning, I didn't blame them too much. The way I view the world and the way others do is very different. Most humans have a very short-term perspective, like they're walking on a dark road and can only see a single foot ahead. So, I was willing to forgive it initially.
"I'm not one to get angry very easily, old man. You see, I have a condition that makes some of the most emotionally stimulating moments of my life too easily accessible. With a thought, it's like I'm transported back to that place, experiencing it again for the first time.
"My memory is perfect. Not just photographic. Photographs have mistakes, they have limited perspectives. My memory is quite literally perfect. Not just in what I'm seeing, but what I'm feeling.
"Every time I recall a memory. I'm just as angry as I was back then. Just as sad. Just as furious.
"Imagine experiencing the extremes of your emotions so frequently that everything else feels bland by comparison. Such a person, when they're really pushed over the edge, when they finally experience yet another emotional high to add to their rolodex of torturous memories, they just might do something very stupid, don't you think?"
"And that's what you did?" Bowan replied with a calm tone.
"You could say so. An uncle of mine took advantage of one of my emotional outbursts. That landed me on this world, stranded and without any idea where in the universe I am or how I could even begin to get back.
"What should I say? I'm the rightful heir to the Valorian family! Take me home before my bastard of a cousin steals my legacy and my woman!"
Seeing the blank look on Bowan's face, Ryker chuckled, though a wave of uncontrollable disappointment rose like a wave in his heart. Luckily, it was quickly buried, having been far too subtle an influx of emotion to push him over that edge.
"It's fascinating, isn't it? Where I come from, such a shout might have caused everyone within a mile to bow in reverence. Yet, in this dingy place, not worth even a single tile of land on my home world, we might as well be a puff of smoke.
"Such things really make me want to laugh. So powerful in one place, yet it's all so meaningless in another. Could that even be considered true strength?"
Bowan sighed. He couldn't tell which Ryker was the true one. Was it the one that was threatening him? Or was it the one that was clearly venting? Maybe it was just both.
The old man was probably the first Ryker could speak about these things with since he came to this place. In fact, he had likely hoped that by mentioning his family, the old man who was so obviously hiding something of his own, would recognize it and be able to help him.
Unfortunately, that had ended in disappointment.
"Tell me the truth, brat. Why did you try so hard to get close to me? Why did you set up your little box outside of my shop? Why did you insist on fixing my watch? Why did you wait for your opportunity to save my granddaughter and force me to owe you a favor?"
"Two favors," Ryker corrected.
Looking down at his pocket watch, Bowan shook his head and didn't argue.
"It's simple really. Your remaining Spirit Energy. I need it."
Bowan's gaze sharpened, the sound of sheathing and unsheathing swords ringing in the air despite the fact there was no one in the vicinity completing such an action. It manifested from thin air as a veil of a mysterious force surrounded the old man.
"So… You really did come here to kill me."
"It depends on how you look at it," Ryker twirled the sword in his hand again, unperturbed by Bowan's display. "Even without my interference, you will die in a year. Your lingering injuries are too severe.
"If you give me your Spirit Energy, you will die in three months. So, you are technically correct that I am 'killing' you. But, aren't you willing to exchange nine months for something better? Don't tell me that there's something you can accomplish in that time that would be better than what I can provide to you."
Bowan didn't respond for a long while. When he finally did, it felt as though it sapped him of all the energy he had.
"How can I trust you?"
"Well, didn't I already say that I never lie?"
Bowan gave Ryker a deep look as though trying to see through him. No matter what he did, he couldn't help but find this young man to be likable, as though he could do no wrong. He radiated a pure and untainted aura that gravitated everyone around him toward him, but it was ironically that same aura that was the reason for his vivid memories.
It could be said that Ryker's pure soul was both a gift and a curse.
The old man, though, who had experienced decades of life, knew that when something felt too good to be true, it usually was. But then again… Was giving up 75% of his remaining lifespan considered 'too good'?
"What are you promising?"
"I will ensure Rosemary's safety and help her through the Quota Check. She will live a long and healthy life. I also promise not to touch her."
"Shouldn't you say something like: 'For as long as I live'?"
"How could someone like me die?" Ryker's expression twisted in confusion as though he was really stumped by a stupid question.
For the first time in this conversation, Bowan burst into a fit of laughter. He laughed so hard it felt like he had been holding it in for years. For a moment, he seemed to have gained ten more years of life.
"I accept," Bowan said straightforwardly, "the matters of my granddaughter's love life, though, I will not interfere in. If your previous words somehow couldn't stop her, nothing I do will matter. I have raised her as well as I can. I trust her to make the right decision."
Ryker stood frozen when he heard this. His mind clicked toward a certain memory, a jolt of electricity coursing through his body. But, he managed to keep himself composed, his halted breathing returning with a steady cadence. He bit down on his tongue hard, stopping himself from shouting out like he usually did.
Ryker brought a small mirror that had been silently floating behind him all this time forward.
"Please pour everything you have left into my hand. I will do the rest."