2They did not talk until the food was gone and their host had cleared away the plates. In the content, soothing silence that followed Atrin closed his eyes and almost forgot why they had come.
"Sir," Lucas began. Atrin opened his eyes and glared at him for waking him up, but Lucas failed to notice.
"Just call me Steve." Steve had been rummaging through the chests lined against the wall, but walked back to stand behind his chair at the table.
"Steve." Lucas began again. "I… We, that is, have a question." Steve sighed and sat down, folding his hands on the table. He looked Lucas square in the eye, and spoke.
"I'm not killing the dragon."
"So you are the DragonSlayer?"
"Once, I was. Stupid name, I… we…. didn't even kill her."
"WELL WHY DIDN'T YOU KILL THE STUPID THING?" Atrin had been listening silently until now, and the entire table jumped at his booming voice. Steve looked taken aback, but then his expression hardened.
"I did my part. You would do well to learn your place, miner." Steve growled dangerously. Unfortunately, Atrin was beyond reason at this point.
"I know my place! My place is with my family, who I dug to bedrock for, only to watch them get killed! I trekked through the wilderness, following an old man and a stupid compass to avenge them, and I'm not going to let you sweep away my hard work!" Breathing heavily, Atrin sat back down, only realizing now that he had leaped from his chair in his rage. The others were watching him with a mixture of fear and awe, and Lucas was the first to speak.
"Atrin-" Steve held up a hand, and Lucas closed his mouth.
"Atrin, is it?" Steve said gently. "There were a lot of 'I's' in that statement."
"So?"
"Look around you." Atrin moved his gaze around the table. There was Lucas, with his short-cropped hair and camouflage vest. There was Isabell, wearing a white blouse and an architect's jacket, some pens still surviving in her pockets. There was Melvin, an old man in his lab coat, who was currently oblivious to the entire atmosphere, buried in old maps he had grabbed from the front room. There was Marie, her ginger hair still spilling from her cap and ready with all the redstone knowledge a person could possess. Last, there was himself, an angry miner with blonde hair and a vendetta against the dragon.
"I don't get it." Atrin stared back at Steve, sincerely dumbfounded. Lucas facepalmed, Marie and Isabell stared, and Melvin remained wrapped in his maps. Atrin was beginning to feel awkward; luckily, Steve was there to save the day.
"Atrin, do you know how old I am?"
"What, like, three centuries?"
Melvin interrupted. "Over two millennia." He stated, not looking up from his maps. Steve cast a delighted glance at the man before continuing.
"Atrin, the Dragon has done terrible things. That's a fact. It's a fact that all of us here have seen terrible things. That kind of wound never leaves you.
"But over time I've come to learn something. Death is not final. To die simply means you are ready to move on to other worlds. One day I will die, and I will rejoin my family in the next life. Now does this justify killing? Of course not; and we are meant to defend those we love.
"It can help, a little bit, though. My death is about two thousand years overdue; this isn't my time anymore. A new hero must ride up and confront the challenge now.
"I will not go and rid your yard of pests, but if you want to slay the dragon, you will not be alone." Steve made a wide gesture to the people seated at the table, and Atrin took a deep breath. Lucas, Isabell, Melvin and Marie all looked back at him.
"Let's do this."