Eight Intertwined

155 - Trying

Olberic was nervous.

It had been a long time since an emotion like anxiety had dominated Olberic's life so thoroughly, and he had to admit that he did not miss it in the slightest. It had been years since this unsettling sensation of believing everything was going to go wrong had gladly come into his mind, and Olberic wished it would go back where it had come from initially. Unfortunately, his mind refused to cooperate with him in such a way, so he was left to sit with the bundle of nerves like a still-beating heart that wanted his hands as their altar.

Olberic couldn't say he was surprised by the circumstances. At one point, something like this wouldn't have bothered him at all. When he had been Olberic Eisenberg, the Unbending Blade of Hornburg, he was ready to handle everything that came his way. Nothing could even think of challenging or scaring him as long as he was the one in charge of the battlefield and his own emotions. Even the most terrifying of battles felt like nothing to him. Olberic respected that there was always a chance the fight could go poorly and that he would lose his life, but he knew in equal measure that fear would only hold him back when push came to shove. He needed to be confident and sure of his skills if he was to triumph. Olberic was grounded in the face of all hardships, knowing that his love of those around him would help him to pursue victory, and if that was not enough, then he would just have to fight to make sure it helped him the way he needed it to.

Times had changed since then though. Olberic was no longer the Unbending Blade, and he didn't know if he wanted to be either. What glory was there in being the Unbending Blade when he had been responsible for the death of his king? Olberic should have gotten there sooner. Maybe he would have been able to save his liege's life if he had just realized what was happening a few moments before he did. Olberic was a man of missed chances, and he had missed so many of them in his time since setting down his purpose and changing out his blue attire for a lifeless brown. Olberic had since found a love for the shades of sapphire of his old uniform again, but his purpose yet evaded him.

There was perhaps a selfish part of him that had hoped he would find what he was searching for as long as he was traveling with the rest of the group. In many ways, Olberic felt as if he was closer than ever before to figuring out what he wanted to fight for. The travelers were all amazing people, and they made Olberic want to be better in a way that no person had since Erhardt so many years ago. Olberic didn't want to fail those who had given him a chance, and he would give every battle at their sides everything he had to make sure he could help those who needed it most. The travelers were light and hope, and Olberic found himself basking in their shine far more than he had any right to admit.

But that dawn had begun to lose its luster over the last few weeks, and Olberic found himself yearning for a past that felt like it was lifetimes ago now. He missed the tourney when they had all fought together at their best. He missed searching for the eldrite and proving themselves to its guardian. He missed defeating the gods as a team, finding ways to tap into their unique synergy unlike anything the world had ever seen. He missed all of them being happy more than anything else, but the world would not grant him the power to return to that long-gone past now. It never had before, and it had no reason to give him that mercy now.

Olberic had initially wanted to brush off his failure to defend Cyrus from Lucia's dagger as little more than an accident. He wanted to think that he had done what he could, and while he had fallen short in the end, Cyrus was still alive. That should have been enough of a positive to keep Olberic moving forward... But that wasn't the case. Instead, he sat there with his deep anxiety and a worry for the future that never seemed to fade. Olberic hadn't just failed to keep Cyrus from being stabbed by Lucia. He hadn't done enough to stop Miguel either. Olberic had given the battle his all, but he was no match for a trained soldier of the modern day. All of Olberic's training had been over a decade ago, some of it bordering closer to fifteen years ago, and that wasn't enough to keep him in the battle the way he had needed it to. Miguel had pushed him aside with no issues and then pursued Therion with the intention to kill. Olberic hadn't seen through Albus' trap in time either, and he didn't think to look after Primrose as she searched for information either. No matter what, Olberic was always too late somehow. There was always something he was missing, and he didn't realize he had made a mistake until after the damage had already been done.