Dragons, Dystopians, and Denial

Jerica smirked. She really wanted to dig at that, since it was clear he was distraught by the idea, but she decided to be nice...r. "So is she mad that you wouldn't fight with her? Or that you joined the military?"

"...No," Elias said solemnly, feeling the answer starting to crawl its way out of the back of her throat.

Evaline was mad at him for various reasons, but again, a surface-level answer was good enough.

"She's mad at me because the military was sent to kill her." He paused as the words sat uncomfortably in the air. It wasn't quite right.

"I was sent to kill her," he corrected, voice flat and quiet.

Spoiler

Jerica forced herself not to react and sobered as she looked at him. He was clearly very distraught about this. And it wasn't funny... but she was delighted. She hadn't heard of this much drama in, well, maybe ever. "And how'd that go?"

Elias glanced at Jerica to try to gauge her expression, but he couldn't. It was hard to tell if she came from genuine curiosity, sympathy, or something else. He decided to not overthink it, though.

"Well, I didn't kill her, if that's what you're wondering," he said, voice still flat as he continued to concentrate looking straight ahead, tightly holding on to Mellie's reins.

He didn't like how her mind will wander after he said that, so he kept going.

"She ran away, and the rebellion ended. Some people are still looking for her, but it's been two years. I'm sure she found a low-profile somewhere."

Elias did think about this sometimes, but he tried not to. He tried not to think about how Evaline, or Mel, or Alistair were doing, because he simply just didn't know. That tense moment with Evaline two years ago was the closest connection to his childhood, and it gave him no new information. He wasn't sure he'd ever see or connect with them again. He could only dream about their new lives, and he could only wish them happiness—even if they didn't wish the same for him.

She hadn't been wondering if he'd killed her -- but now her curiosity was even more piqued. "Did you try to kill her?"

How was the spotlight now on him? Wasn't this supposed to be about Jerica and about the horrifying scene in the town just a little bit ago?

Elias clenched his teeth. He was open to talk about vulnerable topics, but not this. Not anything that involved violence.

"No," he said after a pause that lasted far too long.

He was reverting to his tense, angry, one-word responses. She bit back a sigh and made a mental note to pick this conversation up later... maybe once she'd gotten some rum in him. There was no point in poking this now and making him clam up.

"That sounds tough," she said. "I'm sorry your king--government-- people sent you after your friend. It's a dick move."

Elias breathed out a sigh of relief, glad that Jerica dropped the subject. He shot her an appreciative glance. Even if she didn't verbally express it out loud, he could tell she was understanding. She was doing her best to put herself in his shoes, and even replaced the word 'king' with 'government' to show that she was listening. She was caring.

He appreciated that.

"It is a dick move," he agreed plainly, although he was secretly glad that he could openly talk about how awful the government was. He would be severely punished if he voiced his real opinions out loud at the base.

"And it's also a dick move that you're getting targeted by, well, everyone," he continued, deciding to turn the conversation back to her. After all this was about her, not him. "If anyone got to see what you're really like without any of your history or context, I think they'd think you're pretty cool."

He bit back a grimace. It felt like his language was devolving into a teenager.

Jerica offered a small smile as she could see him relax ever so slightly.

"And it's also a dick move that you're getting targeted by, well, everyone." She nodded encouragingly, wondering whether he was talking about himself or Evaline. Earth was clearly far more interesting than she'd given it credit for. "If anyone got to see what you're--"

Wait. She frowned a bit as she realized that 'you' meant her. This was about him -- she'd said enough about herself to last a decade. He didn't need to be turning the conversation back on her. Rude.

She hesitated when he ended it with a compliment. How was she supposed to respond to that?

"Eh, well." She shrugged. He was just talking in platitudes now. 'If people knew literally nothing about you they might not hate you' -- that's not how life worked. People knew what she'd done -- what she was. "Every story needs a villain, and it's easier to hate me if you don't know me."

She hesitated, not sure if that was actually true. Biryn knew her. Every move that she made -- how she'd react -- how to punish her in the cruelest, most intimate way possible. To hit her where it hurt the worst. And he still seemed to hate her.

"Or, maybe it's not." She shrugged again but cracked a smile. "But I hear mothers now threaten their children into falling asleep using me, and I'd say that's a fair bit more interesting than the gnomes that I was threatened with as a child."

Elias couldn't help but feel sorry for Jerica. She seemed to accept being a villain without any hesitation or thought. At least, that was what it appeared on the surface.

Some people were very good at hiding how they really felt. He should know.

"Well, I think some villains are simply misunderstood," he said after pausing for a few moments. "And that they shouldn't be villains at all."

Jerica hesitated a moment. She wanted to believe him. Wanted to pretend that he wanted to be her... friend. Wanted to believe that she deserved friends. But they both knew that wasn't true. And she wasn't sure what his game was.

"Yeah, well, we'll see what you think when you wake up with that arm." Jerica smirked at him, rolling her own shoulder. Granted, most of her stiffness came from the Nykerians not the training -- but even she was sore. He was doomed.

"And I think it's high time we start working on your horsemanship." She was done having these sappy conversations. From what she'd seen today, she was going to have even more work than she'd thought, to keep this boy alive all the way to Crevon. "So you're gonna learn to trot."

Jerica slipped off Evan while he was still walking. He snorted, unhappy that she'd dismounted off his right side instead of the left. She also felt a bit unsettled by it. But, still, she needed to be between the two horses.

"Hold on to the horn if you need to, and settle deep in your seat. Your hips should move with Mellie's strides."

And with that Jerica clucked to both horses and picked up her pace, urging them both into a slow trot as she jogged between them, holding on to a bridle in each hand.

Elias could see what Jerica meant when she said he'd be sore. The lesson to trot on Mellie was difficult, stiff, and unpleasant. One, his balance was still awful. Two, his arms hurt. And three, even gentle Mellie seemed annoyed to having to go around in circles over and over.

Eventually they stopped the lesson and kept walking, keeping conversation to a minimal. There was still a lot to address here, but he wasn't sure what to say about it. She was the king's assassin, and she had killed so many people. But that didn't scare him. He was just glad she had a empathetic side that so many others like her lacked. That was all that mattered, in the end. To be human.

And it was good enough for him.

They kept their conversation out of personal subjects and instead focused more on nature, land, and other practical things. It was a nice change of pace, just two new friends talking about how to survive in the wild and where to go next.

Eventually night fell, and they found a hidden clearance away from view that could protect them from an ambush. Jerica went to make a fire (she always volunteered, for whatever reason, but Elias didn't mind), and he dug through the saddlebag.

"What would you like to eat?" he asked, his back towards her.

"We can make a ste--" She trailed off mid-word, turned partially towards him as her brain remembered that he was a pain in the ass when it came to food. "Stew? You can just pick the meat out?"

Elias grimaced, trying to avert her head but giving her a flick of his eyes.

"...Why don't you just add the meat in your bowl?" he asked.

"Meat has to be cooked, Elias," she said a bit more crisply than she'd meant to.

She pushed herself to her feet and took a deep breath. He was clearly upset by the thought of eating meat, still. She wasn't trying to be a jerk about it. But it was getting so frustrating that he wasn't even willing to consider a compromise.

"We'll need to think about our rations soon," she said matter-of-factly, walking past him to grab the bottle of rum. "I don't mind eating by your standards for now, but the more vegetables that I eat, the faster we're going to run out of them and force you to start eating meat."

Jerica popped the cork out and took a drink, cringing as the rum tingled all the way down her throat. She held the bottle out to Elias, swishing it a bit invitingly so that he'd take it. "No meat."