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Aether's Heart



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Thu Aug 20, 2020 3:05 am
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ScarlettFire says...



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78 Days B.N.D


Eli stared at the little girl--at Lettie--in silent horror. The overwhelming sense of failure reached up with claws and fangs to drag him down again. It reminded him of why he was discharged from the army, of why they sent him home... He swallowed and closed his eyes, letting his head hang. It hadn't been his fault! The man--who he later came to learn was one of the crown prince's son's--had been too far gone for him to treat, and he'd been alone in the tent. He'd tried to call for a more experience, more powerful healer--one who didn't have this cursed healing--but it had taken too long and he'd lost his patient in the time it took for the messengers to find the other healers...

"I can't heal her," he muttered, opening his eyes and turning his focus on Lettie. He'd moved closer and was kneeling beside her, trying to reach inside her with his magic but.... No, he couldn't. "I'm sorry... I-I... can't. If I try, it's more likely to kill us both and I'd like to not die..." He trailed off and met Lettie's eyes.. "I'm sorry, Lettie..."

"C'mon...can't you do...anything," Paimon muttered, still leaning around Bel to see. "I dunno, use the River or something?"

Eli shook his head. "I-I can't, Paimon... That's not how my magic works, it's not how magic works at all--"

"I don't care! Just...we have to save her!"

He cursed softly and climbed to his feet, stalking off a few steps, keeping his back to the group. They'd had a few days between him healing Bel, but still. It wasn't enough. He still felt tired as all hell. He'd never been that strong a healer and this prophecy bullshit wasn't helping. At all. Eli exhaled heavily, startling a little at the hand that suddenly landed on his shoulder.

"It's not your fault," Tyri said with a sad, reassuring smile.

Elidyr sighed and glanced towards Tyri and her smoky eyes. "I know," he said softly, catching sight of Railyn, Paimon and Bel still crowded around Lettie and the kitten. "But it doesn't stop me from feeling guilty, or like I'm failing people...and I... I just... I can't anymore... I'm too weak, both from healing Bel and then that girl in Syna before then."

"I understand," Tyri murmured, squeezing his shoulder a little. "It can be hard....the expectations that people have about magic users."

"Yeah." He turned to watch the others and a violently coughing Lettie. "There's no way I'll help. She's too far gone. It's too late for her...but I can maybe hold it off for long enough for her to tell us what happened here?" He sent Tyri a wry smile even though she probably wouldn't see it. "Just don't be surprised if I pass out again afterwards."

Tyri chuckled. "Fair point. Okay, Elidyr, let's do that, then."

"We still have some cure, too. I think?" Eli frowned and patted his bag before nodding. "It'll help when I do this."

He nodded to himself and then returned to the group, kneeling beside Bel and the little girl. Bel still seemed a little...lost. Like he'd just gone blank with shock or zoned out. Eli swallowed and reached out to cup the back of Lettie's head, ignoring the looks from Paimon and Railyn.

"Right, so... There is something I could maybe do? But it won't actually cure her." He sent Paimon a look, then cast the same look at Railyn. He barely registered Tyri returning to kneel on his other side. "But it may give her enough of a boost to answer a few questions. Namely the one about who did this."

Bel twitched a little, but it was Paimon who spoke, perking up a little. "Wait, what? Really?"

"Yeah, really," Eli said, sending her another look. "Now let me concentrate and don't be concerned if I pass out. You know, like last time."

"Maybe that was just a last time thing?"

"Shush," Eli hissed, sending Paimon another Look. "Let me concentrate."

With that, he placed a hand on Lettie's chest, bowed his head and closed his eyes. Almost immediately, he could feel the bluecough crawling all throughout Lettie's tiny body, invading not just her lungs, but also her heart, her liver, her kidneys and even her brain. That wasn't good. They'd have less time than they'd like. He had to hurry. So Eli reached out with his magic and tried to peel back a few layers of the illness wracking Lettie's body, clearing her lungs and her mind long enough for them to ask a few questions. It'd only be for a minute or two, but it was better than nothing.

Slowly, Eli pulled back, maintaining his hold on the illness while also being a little more aware of things outside his magic. It'd hurt her a little, but not as much as the bluecough was. He cleared his throat and opened his eyes, surprised to find he was...glowing...blue? Just a little. Eli swallowed. That was...weird. He was going to blame it on the prophecy bullshit later...

"Quickly," he said, voice hoarse. "I can't hold this long....so ask her... You have...maybe a minute..."

Lettie's coughing had died down and she didn't seem to be choking on blood anymore--enough so that she was peering up at them with wide eyes. Especially him. "Mr. Blue? Mr. Horns?"

Bel's frozen expression cracked into an earnest smile, and he scooted closer to Lettie, holding out his hand. Lettie reached up and took it, grabbing three fingers loosely.

"Yes. It's me, Lettie," he said quietly.

Lettie looked confused, and her lips were still blue-and-red, but at least she was somewhat not-dying at the moment. Eli groaned softly, sagging a little. But he held on, because this was important. For Bel. And Lettie. And Paimon.

"Oh...what's going on, Mr. Horns?"

"Your village was attacked, Lettie," Bel said softly. "You got sick. Do you remember anything about the people who came?"

Lettie's weak fingers pulled Bel's hand down, so it was resting in her lap. Her lips began to quiver. "They were angry..." she said, her voice weak from something besides the bluecough. Her throat was tightening. "Angry we were sick."

Eli swore softly and shifted to lean against Tyri, needing support. He was quickly getting tired and his hold on Lettie's bluecough was starting to slip, but he was determined to hold her like this for as long as possible. "Angry you were sick? Bluecough?"

"Yeah," Lettie said with tears in her eyes. "They took the cure."

"They took it?" Paimon asked, sounding angry herself. "All of it?"

Lettie closed her eyes, sending tears down her blue-tinted cheeks. "Daddy told them. Told them I needed it. They didn't listen." She started to sniff with the beginnings of a sob.

Eli sucked in a sharp breath. She'd caught it from him... She had to have. He hadn't seen signs of it before he and Paimon had arrived in the village. By the Mother, he should have known! Guilt settled like a thorny ball of vines deep in his gut, twisting and shredding his insides. How could he have... He should have been more careful!

Bel's voice cut in - pained.

"We're so sorry, Lettie."

Lettie took in a shuddered gasp. "They were wearing brown," she sniffled. "Not like Synua." A sob rose up in her throat, making her voice tremble. "They lied. The lied. They took my daddy."

And there, her voice broke, and she dissolved into tears. Paimon still had her in her lap, and pulled Lettie close, wrapping the blanket around her in a hug.

Eli swore softly and felt his grasp on the bluecough slipping. He scrambled to yank it back but it slipped out from beneath his hold and at the same time, his magic failed him, making him gasp. He leaned more heavily into Tyri and groaned softly, yanking his hand back from Lettie like he'd been burnt.

"Shit! I'm sorry!" He tried to peer up at Bel, but there were suddenly two of him. Two big blue tieflings with identical looks of shock on their faces. "I'm sorry, I... I couldn't hold it any longer!"

Lettie's sobs turned into violent coughs and she started shivering in Paimon's arms. Eli glanced towards them and saw two of them, too.

Tyri put a hand firmly on Eli's shoulder as she held him up.

"You did what you could," she whispered to him.

"I know," he whispered back, sadly. "And it still wasn't good enough."

It was never good enough, but he couldn't tell them that. Couldn't say it out loud. So he kept it locked up inside instead and turned his face into Tyri's shoulder, trying to smother his soft sob of distress before the tiredness in his bones dragged him under again.

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77 Days B.N.D


Eli woke with a pounding headache and rolled over to peer at Tyri and Railyn from across their small campfire. Wait, when had that happened? He frowned and pushed up onto a elbow, squinting at them in the early morning light. "Wha... When did you...?"

"We made camp," Railyn muttered, not looking up from the dragon snoozing in his lap, idly petting the pretty scaled little beast with a fond twitch to his mouth.

"While you were passed out," Tyri added with a wry smile.

"Oh..." He shifted to sit up with a grunt, rubbing his aching head. "Where's Bel and Paimon? And Lettie?" Eli squinted at them again. "And....the cats?"

Tyri pointed at the ground beside him. "Lady's right there. As for Bel and Paimon..." She shrugged and gripped her staff hard. "We've been trying to save the village. And Bel said you'd be best left to sleep it off, so we made camp."

"Oh... I see..." He cleared his throat and turned to find Lady curled up beside him, fast asleep. Eli decided to leave them there and turned back to Tyri and Railyn. "You didn't tell me where Lettie was, though..."

"He left." That was Paimon. He twisted around to look behind him and sure enough, that was Paimon. "And he took Lettie and Tabby with him."

Eli was a little stunnned, and also a lot guilty. "He...what?"

"He left," Paimon repeated, a little more firmly. "Also, apparently this was the mafia? The Idora-whatits or whatever. Bel said that this scrap of cloth Ivern--that's the dragon, by the way--found was from them... Said he recognised it and then he just...up and left. Like, how rude."

His head span a little as he tried to process everything... Idoras? Here? Oh, boy. Maybe he should come clean? Eli cleared his throat and shook his head. Then again, maybe not... He reached out absently to pet a sleeping Lady and frowned, trying to think past the guilt curdling his stomach and the shame eating away at the space between his lungs where his heart was trying to beat out a rhythm double-time. Shit.

"The Idoras," he said and lowered his gaze to Lady, still absently petting her. "What else did you guys discover while I was passed out?"

"The bird prints I found... They're not from our birds and I don't think they're Synua, either?" Railyn shrugged. "Maybe this mafia have their own mounts?"

Eli's lips twisted into a thin grimace. "Yeah, maybe."

"And we weren't able to salvage much of the village," Tyri said, gesturing vaguely. Eli caught the movement in the corner of his eye and glanced up. "As you can probably see."

She was right. Serion was pretty much...destroyed. Most of the houses had collapsed in on themselves and any that hadn't were still smouldering, but at least the bulk of the ranging fire had died out and it hadn't started any forest fires. Not yet, anyway. Eli nodded and then twisted to peer up at Paimon, who was still standing over him.

"You said something when you were passed out."

Uh oh. What had he said? Eli grimaced. "I did?"

"Yeah." Paimon grimaced right back. "What's an Adonis?"

Oh, shit.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart


“It's easier to ask forgiveness than it is to get permission.” - Grace Hopper.
  





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Thu Aug 27, 2020 11:04 pm
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AlyTheBookworm says...



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78 Days B.N.D


Serion continued to burn, and though Tyri couldn’t see the flames, she felt the incredible broiling heat hanging over the area like a miasma. The atmosphere was heavy with the acrid stench of smoke and burning bodies. It made her throat itch and her eyes burn.

At some point in that hazy period of desperate, fruitless searching, she left the others, stumbled off into the surrounding woods, and retched. The nausea remained.

Tyri and her companions had searched the entire village for life, but had nothing to show for it but a mound of charred bodies, a cat, and a dying child who wouldn’t survive the night.

Her newly awakened ability to see the auras of living beings had allowed her to realize the ugly truth before anyone else had. They were too late.

Paimon hadn’t wanted to accept it. She seemed angry at Tyri- as if she blamed her somehow for not being able to save anyone. Tyri tried to forget the woman’s biting words and refused to let them bother her; They’d all been desperate, angry, and scared. And what they’d seen had affected each of them. She doubted Paimon meant what she’d said.

At least, I hope not.

Tyri gathered herself up into a ball, pulling her legs in close and wrapping her arms around herself, as if that could somehow smother the ache deep in her chest. She screwed her eyes shut and breathed out. She’d had better days.

The five of them- six with the little girl from Serion- had gathered together again to make camp, and now she sat on the edge of the clearing they’d chosen, back pressed against the trunk of a tree. Though her eyes were closed, she saw the vibrant auras of her companions around her. They were bright and warm, comforting lights against their bleak surroundings. Despite the fact that she’d known them all of two and a half days, she felt that she could trust them.

As Bel bundled Lettie up in blankets, Elidyr slept off his healing, Railyn poked at the campfire, Paimon lay sprawled on the ground, examining something clutched in her fist. She was the first to break the long silence, her voice low and hoarse.

“Hey, do any of you recognize this?”

She held up one glowing hand, and Tyri sensed something flutter in her fingers as she held it out for the others to see. Perhaps a piece of fabric or paper? What might be on the piece of fabric/paper was a mystery to her.

“What is it?” Bel asked distractedly. He was carefully giving Lettie small sips of water from a canteen, and barely looked up at Paimon’s question.

Railyn stared at whatever it was. “That’s the cloth that Ivern found under the ash in Serion, right?”

“Yup. I’m thinking it belonged to one of those bastards who burned down the village. Probably left it by the tracks while they were running away.” Paimon’s voice carried a hint of vitriol beneath her characteristic nonchalance.

Suddenly, Bel got up. He moved across the clearing and wordlessly grabbed the cloth from Paimon’s fingers. She let him take it, her response partly-annoyed and partly-curious.

“Well, what is it? You know who it’s from or not?”

The tiefling’s aura flickered, a shudder running through it. It was nearly imperceptible, and Tyri thought she might’ve imagined it until she heard his reply. Like Paimon’s, his voice was full of anger. Bel tensed, fists balled at his sides and his tail flicking back and forth restlessly.

“Yeah, I recognize this,” he snarled. “It’s the insignia of the Idoras, a mafia group from Synua. They did this. They attacked Serion. They killed Lettie’s parents.”

The Idoras. The name sent a chill up Tyri’s spine, stirring up all kinds of old emotions and memories she’d rather have left forgotten.

“I’m not surprised,” she said quietly. “The Idora family killed my father and brother. They’re evil, ruthless people. And they hate magic-users.”

Paimon raised her hand and placed it on Bel’s shoulder. Their difference in height made the gesture a little awkward, but she didn’t seem to care.

“Hey, Bel. I’m gonna make you a promise. These Idoras won’t get away with what they did. Because we’re going to hunt them down to whatever hole they’ve crawled back to and make them pay.”

Railyn spoke up from his spot by the fire. “I agree, but… how are we going to find them?”

“Well, they were stupid enough to leave behind this little bit of incriminating evidence-“ She took the cloth back from Bel and wiggled it in the air. “-So it’s a safe bet they left other signs we can use to track them.”

Tyri rose to her feet and grabbed her staff from where it was leaned against the tree trunk.

“The attack on Serion was recent. They can’t have gone too far. And… I know a spell or two that might allow me to use that scrap of cloth to track its owner.”

She smiled at Bel’s glowing aura, wishing that she could see his face.

“We’ll find them, Bel.”

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77 Days B.N.D


Hours passed, day gave way to night and gave way to day again, and at some point Bel slipped away into the forest, Lettie cradled in his arms and Tabby curled up between his horns. He briefly explained that he was going to try to ride to Nua Port and find a cure for the little girl before her strength ran out.

Tyri wished him luck when he departed, even though she knew the trip was in vain. Lettie’s aura was so faint it was getting difficult to see. Her slight figure wavered and flickered like a dying flame next to the shining blaze that was Bel. She looked like a ghost.

But Tyri had kept those visions to herself. She knew that if she tried to stop him, he would’ve ignored her. Like Paimon had. Neither was the type to give up on someone in need, even if they knew deep down that there were probably going to fail. It was what Tyri admired most about them.

“Wha- When did you...?”

Tyri looked over to see Elidyr finally beginning to stir. Paimon has already started talking to him, catching him up on the events since he passed out. Then, Paimon added, "You said something while you were passed out."

Elidyr grimaced, struggling to lift himself with his elbow. "I did?"

"Yeah," Paimon said, "What's an Adonis?"

Until then, Tyri had all but forgotten Elidyr had said that. Now, though, that word burned in her mind. It seemed familiar. Too familiar.

Railyn joined the group around the campfire. "Found nothing new in the city except smoulders. The dew is starting to put out some of the fire. I think some of it will last awhile though. What'd I miss."

"Well," Paimon said, her eyes not leaving Elidyr, "we were asking Eli here what an Adonis was."

All eyes were on Eli as Railyn took a seat. Silence filled the space around the campfire.

Railyn coughed. "Soo, what is Adonis?"

Elidyr sighed, mulling his words over. "It's a family," he muttered, sounding both tired and nervous, almost evasive. "And I'm an Adonis. My real name is Elidyr Adonis, not var Ardys, though they are cousins..."

He paused, hesitating and then added, "I thought it would be wise to, uh, not use my real name while in Synalis..."

"Why not?" Paimon asked.

That was when it clicked for Tyri. "Because the Adonis family is the ruling family of Asturia, isn't it?"

Eli chuckled and shook his head. "Only from the shadows, Tyri."

He shifted slightly, and then made a soft noise. "My family's been in a blood feud with the Idoras for... Centuries..."

Paimon's brows furrowed. "So your family rules like the Idoras rule? And you lost it at me being a thief; you're a mobster!"

He winced and looked away. "I... I stay out of that side of the family business, Paimon."

Eli sounded upset. "For very good reasons..."

Tyri frowned. "And... they just let you walk out of the family business? How did you get away?"

"I'm the youngest," he muttered, sounding sour. "A spare. They didn't need me, not when they have my brother, Isiasis, to inherit..."

The implication was clear; his family hadn't wanted him.

"Even so," Tyri said slowly. "I haven't known the ruling families to let go of anything- or anyone- easily. Do they know where you've been the past few years?"

Eli chuckled. "Of course they do."

Tyri rose to her feet, leaning on her staff for balance. "I imagine that you following the Idora's trail wouldn't be a good idea. Especially if they figure out who you are."

"They'd probably kill me and then my father would be furious," he said, shaking his head. "And then they'd try and take an Idora for daring to touch me."

"I'm also a fugitive from Yse. Tyri might be, but I definitely am," Railyn pointed out.

"And we have two sets of tracks to follow..." Tyri began.

"You're suggesting we split up?" Elidyr groaned as he pulled his legs off the bed and the ground. "I don't think I'd be much help to anyone right now."

Paimon slapped him on the back, almost knocking him over. "Don't worry, softie mobster, I'll pick up your slack."

Tyri hid a smile. "I guess it's settled then. You and Paimon can follow one trail. Railyn and I will follow the other."

"Not a mobster," Eli muttered, but it was clearly pointless.

"Before we go, we should probably write a message for Bel so he knows where we went," Tyri added.

There was a pause. "Can Bel read?" Paimon asked.

"Oh. Yeah, I guess not." Tyri smiled sheepishly. "Well... we're coming back. We'll probably get back before he does."


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The last thing Tyri wanted to do was return to Serion, but less than ten minutes after that conversation, there they were. The air was still heavy with the stench of smoke, and the surrounding forests were silent.

Goodbyes were brief; no one wanted to linger in the dead village. Paimon and Elidyr headed one way, promising to meet back at the campsite by sundown. And that left Tyri and Railyn alone... with the task of tracking down a group of murderers, arsonists, and mafia members.

"Lead the way," Railyn said brightly. "Paimon gave you the cloth, right?"

Tyri forced some cheer into her voice. "Yup!"

Had they discussed what they were supposed to do once they found the hideout?

Well, it's too late to worry about that now. Guess we'll make it up as we go.


Tyri pulled the scrap of burned cloth from the pocket of her dress and muttered the spell she'd prepared. The last time she'd used this spell, she'd been able to see the trail of light it created. Now that she was blind, she'd had to tweak its effects a little; visual signs would be utterly useless to her.

"Is it working?"

"Give it a moment," Tyri muttered in reply.

Ah, there it is.

A faint chiming began to ring through the forest. It was distant, but came clearly from one direction- their right. The opposite path to the one Paimon and Elidyr had taken.

Tyri stuffed the cloth back into her pocket, turned to Railyn, and grinned. "It worked. Let's go."

They followed the forest path for nearly an hour, leaving the bleak stretch of scorched land behind them and entering the untouched forest. The air was cool and still, almost unnaturally so, but they knew the spell was working.

Railyn found plenty of signs that Tyri couldn't see- crushed plants, a hair tangled in a branch, a footprint in a patch of mud... He pointed them out when he saw them, but otherwise, the two of them walked in silence. Tyri took the lead, with one hand cupped around her ear to catch the faint chiming of her spell.

Eventually, she didn't need to strain to hear it. It was getting louder, transitioning from gentle, musical notes to a harsher metallic clanging. She felt her heartbeat speeding up, her mouth going dry. It wasn't fear, exactly, but a kind of anxious anticipation.

Suddenly, Railyn grabbed her shoulder, and she jumped in surprise.

"Tyri!"

"What? What is it?"

Railyn pointed at something lying across the path ahead of them. It had no life aura, so Tyri had overlooked it. She concentrated, bringing it into greater focus with Primal Sense, then recoiled in shock.

The body was curled up on the ground, as if they'd layed down to rest and never woken up.

She began to move closer to try and find a cause of death, but Railyn held her back.

"Don't- he's covered in bluecough rashes."

"Bluecough?" Tyri frowned.

"Yeah. See the insignia on-" His tone of voice became sheepish. "Oh. Sorry, I guess you can't see it. But we're definitely on the right path. This guy was one of the Idoras. He must've gotten sick from the people at Serion."

"They left one of their own to die alone out here? They didn't even bury him," she said in disgust.

"Or maybe not," Railyn said grimly. He pointed further ahead again, and Tyri made out the blurry forms of two more humanoid shapes lying near the path.

She and Railyn carefully moved around the body of the man with bluecough and headed to the ones up ahead.

"These ones also have signs of bluecough. But I don't think that's what killed them," he said slowly, inspecting the bodies as well as he could while keeping his distance. "They were attacked by something- or someone. Probably bled out."

"Uh-huh." Tyri stared at the fuzzy shapes on the ground. "I'm glad one of us isn't blind. I would've tripped over these and still not realized what they were."

She laughed softly. "I think I'm getting too dependent on my shiny new prophecy powers.. Not everything has an aura though."

Railyn might have smiled at her, but that was one more thing she couldn't see.

"How does that work, exactly?.."

"Ah.. I'm kind of new to it too. I've only had it for a couple of days," Tyri replied. "Let's just say that every living thing has this shroud of light around them. And now, somehow, I can sense it."

She turned to look at Railyn and saw only a tall, thin glowing outline of a person. Funny to think she'd never really know what he looked like.

"Anyways. Let's keep moving. We're getting close." The sound had gotten so loud it made her wince every time she heard it- as if a bell was being rung right next to her ear.

They reached the source of the spell less than ten minutes later. By that point, the sound was overwhelming. Tyri disabled the spell with a muttered word and immediately discarded the burned piece of cloth. After over an hour of constant noise steadily increasing in volume and pitch, the sudden silence was jarring.

"This should be it but.. that's odd. There's no else here but us."

"Uh.. no one alive. Look closer," Railyn said grimly.

They stood at the mouth of a huge cavern. The opening was only as tall as Railyn, but Tyri sensed a larger network of caves inside. And another body slumped by the entrance.

The unease that she'd felt since setting out on this trip only increased.

"Looks like someone else beat us to it," she said with a quiet laugh. "Should we go in?"

Railyn looked away. "Well.. you said there's no one else in there, right? Whoever attacked them is gone, so it should be safe enough. Let's find out what happened, at least."

Tyri nodded, and they entered the cave.

She noticed Railyn stumbling around behind her, but didn't comment on his clumsiness until he nearly walked into a wall.

"What are you doing?" She couldn't keep the amusement out of her voice.

"It's dark as pitch in here- I can't see a thing."

She laughed. "Oh. Whoops. Let me help."

"Phainei."

She couldn't see it herself, but remembered well what it looked like. Her staff would, hopefully, be blazing with bright light.

"Better?"

"Much."

They made their way deeper into the network of caves and found nothing but bodies- killed either by the bluecough they'd contracted from their victims at Serion or the marks left by their mysterious attacker. But when they'd nearly reached the end of the system, Tyri finally sensed something alive amid all the death.

She stopped Railyn and put a finger to her lips for silence.

"There's someone up ahead," she whispered.

He nodded in understanding, and they crept foward as silently as possible. As they entered the last chamber, Tyri wrinkled her nose in disgust. It stank of blood. The bright aura she'd sensed emanated from a tall figure standing in the center of the room, surrounded by a mound of bodies.

Heart pounding, she raised her staff to defend herself if the person tried to attack. But they didn't move. Railyn gasped from beside her.

And that's when she finally recognized him.

"Bel?"
  





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Chaser says...



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77 Days B.N.D


The footprints had a certain rhythm, Paimon noticed. The birds seemed to gallop in loping strides rather than straight out running, soaring meters at a time and leaving footprints spread a bit further apart. She wondered what kind of bird would do that. A bouncybird?

"Hey, Elidyr?" she asked, craning her head around her bird's neck. "What kind of birds are these?"

Elidyr, to her left and slightly ahead, shook his head and gripped his steed tighter. "No idea."

And so, bouncybirds they remained.

They'd followed the tracks through a shaded woodland path, which looked a little overgrown. The bouncing birds' long legs strode over the underbrush, weaving around a few trees which had reclaimed the worn-down path. Paimon had seen trees that looked somewhat familiar, and made a sharp left when the tracks veered off. Now, they had just broken the treeline, and the sun was beating down from above. This made the tracks, which were crushed into the tall grass, easier to identify and examine. Paimon leaned over the side of her bird and made mental notes.

"Hey, Elidyr?" she asked, looking behind them now. The bird's tracks were prominent, but there were a few spots where the birds wouldn't have stepped, unless they were carrying something, or dragging something along behind them.

She heard him curse under his breath. "We went in a loop, Paimon," he said, pointing to the smoke across the field, where the tracks led. "They got us."

The rest of the ride along the treeline was quieter, neither of them really knowing what to say. Paimon knew that compared to the past few days, this was a casual situation, but was it casual enough to just talk about the past? Maybe, maybe not. This train of thought filled her head until it was its own conversation, and she was only pulled out of it by the all too familiar smell of woodsmoke.

Serion hadn't completely burned out yet. With a town made of wood, it was inevitable that it'd burn for days. The fires had started to burn lower, feeding on the insides of the houses, and whatever memories remained there. The town's paper mill had been demolished, collapsing in on itself, the windmill sheets blowing loose with charred ends. Paimon could barely stand to look inside the blackened shells of the houses as they dismounted. Luckily, that wasn't their goal this time. They were hunting for tracks.

"Well, if they took the time to make fake tracks, they probably tried to cover the real ones," Paimon reasoned. "Split up and stare at dirt?"

Elidyr nodded. Paimon could see that he was swaying on his feet a bit, either from bluecough or bouncing bird motion sickness. She put a hand on his shoulder, the one without Lady. "Hey. If you need a break, just let me know. I've got plenty of good stuff in my bag. Healthy stuff," she added, giving him a wry smile.

Elidyr smiled back. In moments like this, he looked a little more innocent; the blue rash seemed almost like a youthful glow. "I'll be fine," he replied. "My eyes are still working."

"Alright." Paimon turned to Lady. "And if you want anything, dear kitty, I also sell catnip."

Lady turned her nose up and made a sound like a scoff. "Have it your way," Paimon said, and went out looking.

It was a cloudless day, which meant the winds were blowing quite a bit in the fields. Paimon got upwind of the black smoke pillars and crouched low to the grass. Years of smelling things adventurously had given her the ability to discern their usefulness - that habit had also nearly taken it away on several occasions. The scent of the birds had been strong by the fake tracks -- especially when their birds were there -- but now that the wind had shifted, it was a bit easier to track.

"They must have covered them up pretty cleanly," Paimon muttered to herself. Who would do that?

The Synua Guards came to mind. The bouncing birds, after all, seemed to be standard issue. But they hadn't operated this discreetly before. And certainly, it would be hard to file burning down a village under keeping the peace.

The scrap of cloth had come from the Idora mafia. Railyn and Tyri were on their way to investigate. It seemed like just at the moment they'd all met, they'd split up again without a second thought. And at Serion, they'd hardly been a team. Especially Paimon when she'd-

She winced. Snapping at people never made for good sales. No, it didn't make for good companions. But if magic was really that special, why could it do so little? And if it was so simple, then why -- back then -- why couldn't she do it?

Old frustration flew into Paimon's lungs, and she huffed, kicking at the grass beneath her. Some of it blew upwards in clumps, settling down in the field. But as she did, she noticed something. A small pile of ash had stained her boot.

Paimon looked down. Little deposits of ash had been left in the grass. They were in neat little sections, and they weren't blowing away in the rough winds. It was as if the grass had been pressed down, then the earth littered with ash before the grass sprung back up. When the wind blew over, only the ash deposits remained. And when she saw the ash spots trailing into the field, they looked like tracks.

"Eli, come here!" Paimon shouted, digging at the grass with her boot. By the time Elidyr jogged up, she had uncovered sets of birdlike tracks, along with a few human-sized ones.

"Pretty cool, right?" she said. "These ash marks are just the clue that we needed."

"There's a lot more of them," Elidyr observed, walking around. "And this part looks like it's too wide to be from tracks."

Paimon thought for a second. "Maybe it's from more than one person, then?"

Elidyr looked back at her meaningfully. "That would only make sense if they left with more people than they could fit on the birds. So they left with more people than they came with."

"They left with--" Paimon blinked. "Some of the villagers are still alive."

"And the Synua guards took them away," Elidyr finished, walking in the direction of the tracks. "The only question is where to."

Without another word, they darted back to their bird steeds. Paimon hung off the side of her bird as they traveled, examining the tracks to make sure they were still there. But eventually, the ash marks faded out, leaving her staring at nothing but whispering grass.

"The tracks are gone," she told Elidyr. "Where do we go now?"

"I have a guess," Elidyr replied, pointing, "but you won't like it."

Paimon looked up and realized that Syna was right in front of them. The cream-colored watchtowers peered over the stone town wall, surveying the landscape. The culprits wouldn't have gotten past here without being spotted, which meant that they had to have entered the city. As both Paimon and Elidyr knew, it was on lockdown, which meant only authorized personnel were allowed. Paimon's puzzle pieces fell together right then and there.

"Our enemy is the Synua Guard," Elidyr concluded, sounding equal parts wary and weary.

Paimon nodded. "Now, how to get into Syna."

Then the guardsman on the wall reached the corner, turned around, and began to head towards them. Elidyr and Paimon yanked the reins of the birds, dashing into the forest before they could be seen.

When they were sure no one was following them, Paimon dismounted and fished a piece of paper out of her pocket. She bent over awkwardly and wrote against her thigh, trying not to puncture the paper and kill its enchantment. The paper itself had been a gift, and the magic was at least simple enough to understand.

"You're contacting someone?" Elidyr asked, peering over.

To the alley between the bakery and the defunct magic souvenir shop on Prognosticus Street, Paimon wrote. "Hopefully, Mogul's still in Syna," she said, then paused. "But if he is in there..."

Elidyr nodded understandingly. "Hopefully he's also safe."

Paimon finished her address to Mogul and folded the paper into triangles. The creases started glowing like veins, and the paper leapt out of her hands, flapping its wings and clearing the treeline. When it got high enough, it would be indistinguishable from the light blue sky, until it could float gently down to its destination.

Elidyr watched it disappear. "So, you fit the entire plan on that little sheet?" he asked, a bit curious.

"Hm? Oh, yeah, yeah. The plan. I'll tell you about it later," Paimon said. The sheet of paper flew further into the sky, bearing the message hidden on the back : Help Mogul Please I'll buy you lunch.

Image


"We can move a little closer," Paimon said, leading the reins of both bouncybirds. "The guard is gonna change before too long."

"Alright." Elidyr weaved through the underbrush, pulling the sleeve of his robe as it snagged on a branch. With his hands, he was tying the ends of the reins to sticks. "Is this going to hurt them?"

"Based on experience, no," Paimon said, handing him two flasks. "My customers actually gave rave reviews."

"That's what worries me," Elidyr replied, and Paimon laughed a little. They were getting on a little better now; maybe learning he was a mobster had levelled the playing field a bit. Whatever the case, now wasn't the time to enquire further.

About half past one, the sheet of paper had come fluttering back. "Promise?" it read. "I have a passageway, but guards can't be looking. Thoughts?"

Paimon had scribbled back with the beginnings of a plan, and so the day had unfolded. Mogul had eventually instructed them to wait outside the walls, until just before the changing of the guards. And now it was the late afternoon, almost time to enact their secret plan. By now, at the top of the wall, the guards posted in the towers had become sleepy. They had pretty much given up on the unmoving treeline, opting to stare hard into the wood grain of balconies. They would notice if something moved out, of course, but they wouldn't have been paying attention at first. Therein lay the crux of their plan: The guards could see the what, but not where from..

Elidyr attached the flasks to the sticks and hung them over the bouncybirds's heads, so that the flasks were between their eyes like a carrot. Lady sniffed at one and wrinkled her nose.

"It's time," Paimon said, striking a match against the side of her boot. She guarded the fire with her other hand and brought it up towards the flasks. The birds watched it intently.

With a poof, the flame leapt into the flasks, turning the insides purple and making smoke overflow. Elidyr covered his mouth and nose, bundling Lady in his clothes. Paimon sniffed for a second to make sure she had it right.

To her customers, buckflower was a smooth and easy ride, but the really wild ones ordered buckseed powder. Once the seeds of buckflower, their very essence, had been crushed up, you could do all sorts of things with them. She'd gotten the concoction just right.

The bouncybirds inhaled the smoke, and their eyes widened. They started pawing at the ground, looking around nervously.

Paimon held their reins up and looked at Elidyr. "On my mark," she said. "Three, two, they're off already. Let's move!"

The bouncybirds had torn from their reins before Paimon could finish counting, running like mad across the field. They reached the wall and ran along it, shouting what Paimon could consider exultant cries. Up on the wall, one of the guards noticed and shouted, drawing the attention of the others. They all clambered around and looked down in disbelief at the drugged-up birds doing laps around the city.

Suddenly, they were accosted with a cry from below. "My birds!" shouted an old man at the base of the tower. "My birds have escaped!" This old man began to climb the tower with surprising agility for his age, distracting the guards further. Some of the guards attempted to stop him, while the others just stared at the birds in disbelief.

While this was happening, Paimon and Eli stole from their hiding spot. Moving slowly was their best bet, despite the frantic pace, as the guards were on high alert for any major developments. Two blurry shapes moving across the field were of little interest to them.

Elidyr and Paimon reached the wall and pressed flat against it. The birds had run around to the back of the city, leaving the guards further distracted. Just as this was happening, right on time, fresh guardsmen arrived from the barracks, their progress halted by the old man who was scrambling around the tower, begging for his birds back. As the old guard attempted to control the situation and explain it to the newcomers, Paimon's hands were working at individual bricks towards the bottom of the wall. She felt around the edges of one, feeling silvery metal. "I've got it," she whispered, sliding the brick out of the wall.

A switch caught, a gear turned slowly. Near them, the grass folded down into a tunnel, nearly undetectable from above. Paimon and Elidyr ducked into the tunnel and under the wall. The tunnel led off into darkness, furnished with sleek metal that sort of ached to crawl on.

"That went well," Elidyr said as Paimon felt along the tunnel wall.

"It sure did," Paimon replied, finding the switch and pressing it. The metal plate with the grass on it folded back upwards behind them, leaving them in the dark. Lady mewed quietly.

"Never fear, my dear dealer apprentices," Paimon said, striking a match. A second later, the flame disappeared into her pipe, which glowed like the sun in the dark passageway. Paimon exhaled a small cloud. "Let's get out of this tunnel."

They crawled along a considerable distance, Paimon stopping every so often to take another puff. As she did, she noticed Elidyr lagging behind. The day had been physically taxing so far, and judging by what was happening, it was far from over. It wasn't like her to notice things like that. Protectiveness hadn't been her style for a long time.

She was so occupied with thinking that she nearly crawled right over the rune sphere. Thankfully, she'd gotten more careful after her accident in the street. The spiral rune glowed softly in the dark.

"Paimon?" she heard Elidyr ask. "Are you alright?"

Paimon scoffed, eyeing the sphere. "I should be asking you that, you know." Her hand darted out and cupped the ball lightly, tucking it into her bag.

"I'll be alright," came the tired reply. "Let's keep moving."

"My thoughts exactly," Paimon said. "Just be safe."

As they continued along the passageway, the silence caused Paimon's last words to reverberate in her head. Be safe? She sounded like a mother. Or a sister, maybe. Was it alright for her to sound like a sister?

Paimon shook her head violently and pressed onward. It felt like they were halfway across the city by now. Eventually, the tunnel sloped upwards, before cutting off at a smooth ceiling. Paimon inched forward and felt around for the switch.

Suddenly, the trapdoor came swinging down, slashing centimeters from Paimon's face. It made a clang, and as Paimon's eyes adjusted to the light in the room above, she was able to make out the old man who'd lost his birds, smiling down at them.

"Sweetmeats are my favorite," Mogul said. "But I'm partial to roast rump."

Image


"I've had to give up fortunetelling for a while," Mogul said, changing out of his robe. "I told people things would get better; they did not. Many of them took it personally."

"Betcha they wouldn't have been mad if you dealt sunweed," Paimon replied. She was sitting on the floor of Mogul's house, a small flat in the less profitable parts of Syna. She picked at the rug, patiently waiting for Mogul to emerge from his rice-paper divider.

"If I did that, believe me, I'd have every other problem with myself." Mogul stepped out in his casual attire, clean-chinned and wise-eyed. "Now, tell me why you came back to this hellhole."

Paimon started to tell him. The prophecy, the refugees, the village. Half of it sounded made up, the other half delirious. She fought to keep an even tone throughout, even throwing out a few jokes that died midair.

"So then I said, why not call them bouncybirds?" she said. "Anyway, that's what we used to get in. End of story."

Mogul nodded, looking at her intently. "It sounds like you've been through a lot."

Paimon shook her head. "I got the least of it, trust me." She looked off into the sideroom, where Elidyr lay asleep on a small futon. Lady was curled up in front of him, watching her intently.

"I haven't heard much about a hybroth potion supply," Mogul said, scratching his head. "But if what you say is true, then it would be related to the lockdown by the Synua guards."

"They're hoarding it," Paimon insisted. "They dug up my ingredient tree."

"I'm sorry to hear that," Mogul said simply. Paimon knew she was being aggressive, but she couldn't seem to settle down. The sunweed hadn't made her any calmer. And Mogul being so peaceful just seemed to make it worse.

"There was an unusually high guard presence last night," Mogul noted. "I would guess that this is when the Serion villagers were brought in. There's been no indication from the prison, so I would guess that they're being held elsewhere. I would further venture to guess that they're in the overflow barracks."

Elidyr stirred slightly. Paimon leaned over and looked, checking that he was okay. He shifted and dug himself deeper asleep; Paimon turned back to Mogul. "Overflow barracks?"

"Syna's military facilities weren't built for such a military presence," Mogul explained. "A few storage buildings near the south wall have been converted into an overflow barracks. If the Synua Guards are responsible for kidnapping Serion's people, they would hold them there, where only they have authority."

"Fascinating," Paimon said. Her mind was slipping, catching every third word. "Do you think the cure supply is there too?"

"I can only guess," Mogul said. "You look tired, Paimon. Let me roll out a bed for you."

"Can't," Paimon replied, swaying from side to side. "I'm on a clock. Y'know...prophecy." By the time she'd finished her sentence, she was careening to the side, falling fast asleep, her head caught gently by Mogul's hand.

Image


Paimon dreamed she was young. Then things happened, and she grew old. It was the in between that rubbed her wrong.

She woke up in a daze, a line of sweat on her brow. It was hot in Mogul's living room, the sun filtering in through the clay window. It looked to be a little later on in the day, the sky faintly tinging with orange. Mogul was sitting at the table with Elidyr, a steaming pot of tea between them.

"Do you feel any better?" he asked, looking at both of them.

"Yeah," Paimon said. "A little." Elidyr nodded.

"Well, good," Mogul said. "Because I'm afraid this is all I can do for you. Aside from a point in the right direction, and a pat on the back."

Lady gave him a dry look; Paimon was noticing more and more of her emotions, even if the cat wouldn't talk to her.

"This is more than enough," Elidyr told him, grasping a tea cup. "Thank you for taking us in."

"It's the least I could do," Mogul said. "You're taking a dangerous risk even being here."

"We're only going into more danger, you know," Paimon jabbed, grinning. "Too scared to follow?"

"Yes," Mogul replied, a thin wisp of a smile on his face. "But it seems you two have been chosen, anyway."

He held his hands out, fluttering them over the tea kettle like it was a crystal ball. "Allow me also to add my own prophecy. You will be well, Paimon Fel, Elidyr var Ardys. It may not come soon, but it will come."

Paimon stood up. "Hell, I'll take that prophecy. Now, let's get going."

Elidyr drank down the last of his tea and stood up. "Thank you, again," he said.

Mogul showed them to the door. "I do grief counseling now, by the way," he called as they walked down his stoop. "Do stop by if you get the chance."

Paimon gave a thumbs up as Mogul retreated to the safety of his home. They were back in the streets of Syna, a cobbled maze of stone and magic. The streets had been emptied, and the inclined streets twisted around like a dungeon. Elidyr held the map that Mogul had given them, orienting it to the street they were standing on. "We head this way," he declared, Lady hopping off of his shoulder and flying ahead of them. With that, they were off.

At the end of the street, a troop of guards marched past. The regular green Syna watch uniforms were mixed in with the yellow of the Synua Guard. The soldiers, too, seemed to have varying degrees of awareness, with the Synua troops all the more on edge. Paimon and Elidyr hid in an alleyway until they'd gone, and moved swiftly towards the south wall.

They cut between buildings, slipping through the windows of an abandoned home. The residents had left quickly, undoubtedly to move to less infected parts of the city, perhaps foolishly wishing for salvation. Paimon was careful not to touch anything, hoping she still had enough cure to save herself if she caught it. Meanwhile Elidyr, though physically worse for wear, seemed to be handling himself well in the mean streets of Syna. Paimon was weirdly proud of that.

"Here," Elidyr said, pointing to a small house in front of them. "We can get a good view from there."

Paimon followed him through another open window into the abandoned shack, then up the mud stairs to the roof, where they crouched behind a crumbling chimney. It was too small for both of them, so Paimon opted to lie flat against the roof, craning her neck to see out.

What she saw was a row of storage houses, where goods might be held for shipments going in and out of the south gate. The high stone roofs were patrolled by soldiers, holding one hand to the swords at their hips. Other patrols spanned the entire area, and Paimon ducked down again before she could be spotted.

"It looks like the guards are surrounding the area from below," Elidyr said. "The cure stash might be here after all."

"Great, now all we need is a plan." Paimon weighed their options. The sun was setting. They had no idea when the guards changed out, or even if they changed at all. But the guards didn't know their faces. Big help that was, though.

"Any ideas, Elidyr? Lady?" Paimon asked, peering over at them.

"Just one," Elidyr replied. He had loosened the neck of his robe, so that it showed the blue rashes creeping up from below. "I'm going to get us arrested."

Paimon blinked for a second, then it clicked. "Oh!" she exclaimed. "Good plan."

They backtracked to the lower level to figure everything out. Once they'd debated for a bit about who would be the damsel in distress (Elidyr insisted that it couldn't be him, the plan wouldn't make any sense that way) they were ready to put their plan into action.

"We can't wait much longer," Elidyr intoned. "If we do, we don't know what'll happen."

"I know," Paimon replied, sighing. "Thanks for sticking with me."

Elidyr blinked, then responded slowly, "Thank you too, Paimon." They had now stepped out into the alleyway.

Paimon smiled at him, then shrieked loudly into the night. The guards at their posts all stopped and stared as Paimon came tearing out of the darkness.

"Oh, guards! Help me, help me!" she wailed, throwing herself towards them. The ground guards lowered their spears at her instinctively, and she stood at a distance, begging for her life.

"Please save me!" Paimon said, pointing into the darkness. "He's going to give me bluecough!"

Right on cue, Elidyr came stumbling out of the alley, looking haggard and unwell. His clothes were misshapen and bulging; Paimon hoped that the guards would attribute this more to disease rather than Lady, hiding in Elidyr's clothes. He saw Paimon and raised a tired hand towards her, staggering in their direction. The guards cried out, and one of them raised his spear as if to throw it. Paimon collided with him sideways, making him lose his grip on the spear.

"Oh, please don't hurt him!" she said, thinking fast. "He's my...my dear little brother!"

Elidyr, moving closer, picked up on this. "I won't get you sick, sister!" he called. "Just please, don't abandon me!"

The biggest guard -- he looked also like the head guard -- marched over. "What's all this?" he asked.

"My brother has come down with bluecough!" Paimon insisted. "Please, you have to cure him!"

Judgement swung between the head guard's eyes, and Paimon realized that he was debating killing them right then and there. The plan could backfire that easily.

Elidyr stretched out a hand. "Mother and Father are expecting us!" he added. "Please, just help me!"

From up close, Paimon saw the head guard sigh. It would be much harder to disappear them if family knew that they were gone. Temporary incarceration, though, he could do efficiently. "You two are from the same household?" he asked.

Paimon nodded, her eyes wide and innocent. "Yes, but I haven't caught anything yet." The guard who she'd tackled paled and moved away.

The big guard bent down and feigned kindness for only a second. "I'm afraid we can't take that chance." He waved to the other guards. "Arrest them both. Put them in the infected ward."

Elidyr gave a sigh of relief, and pretended to collapse facedown in the street. As soldiers worked the shafts of their spears under him to lift him up, Paimon created a suitable ruckus by thrashing against them. In the end, though, they were both brought into the storage house. They were in now a room with a high, dark ceiling, with sconces and torches lighting the way around the area. The guard assigned to search them gently poked them with the butt end of his spear; when Elidyr coughed he was sent scrambling back. Paimon looked around, and saw a row of cages on the upper level, dark shapes within them.

"Um, excuse me," she asked the guard. "Where is this infected ward?"

It was then that the butt of a spear collided with her butt, forcing her forward until the ground was no longer beneath her. Paimon tumbled down, at least three meters, until she hit dirt that may not have just been dirt. Around her were other, similarly haggard faces, some of them slumped against the wall. Their mouths hung open, some trying to summon sound, but finding nothing but a dry, disease-ridden throat.

Elidyr slid down behind her. Since he was lying down, he tumbled flat down the incline of the wall, rolling when he hit the bottom. Lady scrambled inside his robes and sat up, indignant. Paimon shook him, grinning. "The plan worked," she whispered, turning him over to see his face. "Nice acting out there."

She stopped, her eyes widening. Elidyr's face was contorted in pain, the rash clambering up his neck, only to be beaten back down in a pulse like a bloodrush. His eyes were fluttering open and shut, trying to get his bearings.

"Hey, Eli. Hey, hey!" Paimon grasped him, trying to stop his shuddering. "You pushed yourself too much. Come on, sit up. Lie back."

Slowly, Paimon lifted Elidyr into a sitting position, so that he could cough more easily. Elidyr looked at her, but an attempt to speak sent him coughing again.

"Don't try to talk. We're in. We're good. The mission is a go," Paimon said. "Just take it easy. Please, be safe."

There it was again. Elidyr glanced at her again, then closed his eyes and leaned back. Paimon made sure he wouldn't fall over, then looked around. The pit had a steep incline from the rest of the area, too high and too wide to get out easily. On top of that, a guard was stationed nearby, but he was likely going to watch the door instead of the pit of dying people. Whether out of guilt or duty, he wouldn't expect Paimon, climbing out of the pit, grasping the edge and holding herself there with the tips of her fingers.

Sunweed grew in the crevices of cliffs, the parts of a mountain valley where the sunlight hit first every morning. After climbing up to reach them, three meters was little problem for Paimon. She drew a rock from her pouch (used for grinding up the buckseed earlier) and tossed it away from the cages, towards the back.

She ducked down as the guard turned, reacting to the noise. Another guard on the second floor looked as well. There was movement from the cages.

"Hey, that's a good one," a raspy voice shouted. "Give me another beat."

There was suddenly a banging from one of the cells, one that echoed between all of them until the prisoners were all whooping and stomping and shaking their bars. They were making noise deliberately, Paimon realized, as she slid out of the pit and rolled behind a storage crate.

The upper floor guard banged his spear against the bars. "Shut up!" he shouted. "Shut up, or you're all going in the pit!"

"We'd just pile onto each other and climb out!" came the voice, now more defiant. Paimon recognized that voice, though defiance was a new emotion for it. When she'd heard it last, it was filled with suspicion, at this strange group of people who had saved his daughter's cat.

Tristram, Paimon thought, but there was no time to dwell upon it. She sided along the crates, gently lifting up the tops to peer inside. Nothing after nothing she found. Was the cure already gone? Or worse, had it never been here at all?

Paimon looked around. There were barely any other features to the storage house. Except for a cold vault, used mostly for...refrigeration. Of course. If the crates themselves wouldn't refrigerate the potion ingredients, the Guards would use the cold vault.

As the guard returned to his position, Paimon slid back down into the pit. She made a small thud as she hit the bottom; the guard came over and peered down. Paimon hacked a convincing cough, and the guard wrinkled his nose and walked away. When he was gone, she scrambled towards Elidyr. Lady was padding around by his outstretched legs, poking them to keep him awake. Paimon grabbed his shoulder to steady him and whispered into his ear.

"I think they're keeping the cure in the cold vault," she hissed. "Serion's villagers are being kept in cages. I think they're catching bluecough."

Elidyr stirred, focusing his eyes in the dim light. "Then we break out the prisoners and use the chaos to get the cure?"

Paimon shook her head. "Most of them are too weak to do anything right now. We have a better chance of grabbing the cure and coming back for them with everyone else."

Elidyr sat up a little straighter. "Are we going to leave them?"

"No! I mean, yes, for now, but," Paimon thrashed her fingers through her hair. "Look, we almost died to get in here. I don't want to think about what happens getting out. And you can't heal everyone in here without croaking yourself."

Elidyr looked at her, a bit more understanding. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry. Sorry's exactly what we have to not be. We have to keep moving, we have to keep doing something. That something will get us out of here." Paimon's voice was rising before she knew it. Another one of the people in the pit turned towards them.

"Can you help me?" they rasped, crawling towards them. The bluecough rashes had spread up the side of their face into their scalp, carving away their hair. Almost instinctively, Elidyr's hand reached out towards them, a healing blue light glowing in the fingertips.

"Stop it!" Paimon shouted, slapping his hand down. Elidyr stared at her, his eyes showing more surprise than pain. From beside him, Lady hissed.

"Hey!" the guard shouted. "You keep it down too. Someone bring the outer patrol in. We can toss them all in the pit if they act up."

More guards shuffled in through the doors, taking up positions around the storage house. As they did, Paimon and Elidyr stared at each other and stayed deathly quiet. There was so much that couldn't be said with the eyes.

If we try to use force, the guards flood in here and kill us all, Paimon thought. Then we'll have saved nobody. But as long as we're alive -- we have a chance! I want to save them. But if something happens to Elidyr, then what? Does the prophecy end? I want to save them.

Paimon stood up, walking around the pit. From its far edge, she could see the row of prison cells on the second floor, a bunch of cages scattered upon the balcony. There were twice as many guards patrolling now, leering warily at the prisoners. But there must have been someone, anyone up there, who had seen her climb out. They'd made that ruckus to cover her tracks.

And there he was, looking at her through the bars of his cage. Tristram was staring right at her, his eyes oddly luminous in the torchlight. They were shining with that and something else. Was it hope?

Don't, Paimon thought. I don't know how to save you. But Tristram was already raising his fists, as if some detailed plan had been communicated between them.

"Don't do it," Paimon whispered, but it was drowned out beneath the clashing of the metal bars against the floor, as Tristram threw himself into the cage wall again and again. As the guards tramped up the stairs the deal with him, the ensuing noise covered Paimon working Elidyr over her shoulders, beginning the climb out of the pit.

Tristram gave a high, shrill whoop, a sound unexpected from a man of his size. And so, even the most attentive guards turned to look towards him, which meant that they missed Paimon, climbing out and dumping Elidyr on the surface. Together, they crawled towards the cold vault, Lady weaving swiftly in front of them.

The guards wrestled Tristram out of his cell, who started to sing as they carried him down. "Oh my name is Jack o'Lumber, what a jolly jack am I," he sang, waving his arms in a grandiose gesture. Slowly, the other inmates began to join in.

"And I'll swing my jolly axe until the day I jolly die!" They began to bang against their restraints as well, more guards moving up the stairs to grab them all.

"My wife, I miss her dearly; my child, I miss her too!" They were almost to the door. Paimon grit her teeth hard and reached up for the wheel handle.

"But I'll see them both again once I have felled this tree for you!" The door was swinging inward, and Paimon, Elidyr, and Lady were dashing through.

"For you! For you! I sing this song for you!" The prisoners' cheers could be heard through the closed door. "The axe's swing and songs we sing, we bring it all for you!" There was a large grunt as a man was tossed into the pit. But all the while, they had not stopped singing.

Paimon pressed her forehead against the door for a long time, half-waiting for a guard to dash over and tear them both out. But no one came. The song continued. It got fainter, raspier, then ceased.

Elidyr, lying on the floor, lifted his head slightly. "Is this it?"

"It should be," Paimon replied, peeling her head from the door. It was a bit harder from the cold of the wall, the chill that had escaped the room when they'd opened the door. A chill someone might notice, Paimon thought as she began to look. There were only regular crates in here, some of them fish from the Draconis River, others fish from the Draconis River, even more -- were they all fish from the Draconis River?

"No," Paimon said, tearing the lids off and digging through the crates. "You have to be kidding me." She tossed fish after fish over her shoulder; Lady mewed as one of them landed next to her. Shivering, the cat jumped into Elidyr's robe, who stood up to accomodate her. Once he had stood up, he noticed something. As Paimon reached the bottom fish, Elidyr moved over to the wall.

"Paimon," he said. "Look at this." There was a paper card in a slot cut into the wall. Elidyr was holding it up and reading it.

"It's an inventory list." Elidyr pointed to the times and dates stamped on each line. "Here's when the fish came in, a week ago. And there's something below it -- an outbound shipment, just yesterday."

"Peoda seeds," Paimon read aloud. "Root of riander."

"The cure's gone," Elidyr said. "Taken by the Synilas Royal Guard."

"It says who they are?" Paimon looked closer at the list. A royal insignia was stamped on the line where the transfer had occurred.

Elidyr nodded, his expression grave. "But I wouldn't count on the Synilas government giving it to the people. The Idoras hold a lot of sway. Also, look at this undersign."

Paimon peered closer. "V? Who's V?"

Elidyr shivered. "I have a few guesses, none of them pleasant."

Paimon nodded. Nodding felt like all she could do right now. She was still holding a fish; it was gazing at her with a rolling, dead eyeball.

"We need to tell the others," Elidyr said, putting the card back into the slot.

Paimon shrugged. "We're inside a freezer, deep in enemy territory. Mail by pigeon might not cut it." Even her jokes sounded defeated.

"Paimon? Paimon, can you hear me?"

"And now I'm hearing voices," she mumbled. "I smoke sunweed for this, too."

"Paimon? It's me, Tyri. You might not be able to talk back, but I'm sending you this message from Nua Port."

Paimon's eyes shot wide, and she looked up and around the room. Elidyr blinked. "What is it?"

"We found Bel, and possibly some of the Idoras too, but -- It's bad, Paimon. Really bad. Tell Elidyr and come meet us. We're in a cave a few hundred meters off the main road, in the hills before the town. We need-" There was a sharp ping in Paimon's ear, along with a sense that she'd come down from a high.

Elidyr was looking at her strangely. "What was that just now?"

"Tyri called," Paimon said, tapping her head. "We're needed near Nua Port."

"But the cure isn't here, and it might not be there, either," Elidyr protested.

"Well, we can't do anything else where we are, can we?" Paimon said, gesturing around the room. She was having another bad day, the latest of many.

Elidyr folded his arms. Lady popped her head out from his shirt and rested her head on them. "So we need to get out. How are we going to get everyone past the guards?"

"The easy way," Paimon replied, removing the rune sphere from her pocket. "And it's not everyone. It's just us."

Elidyr met her gaze and held it hard. "Are you sure?"

Paimon looked away. "If they run, they'll get hunted. Not just by the Synua Guard, but the Syna watch too. They'll be a risk of bluecough, and detained on sight. Or worse, killed."

There was a moment of silence between them. Each was forming their own plans, and, finding them useless, realizing that escape was the only option.

"The guards are focused indoors," Paimon said simply, placing the stone in her sling. "That back wall should lead directly outside. When I blow through it, they'll come running around, and maybe we can escape."

"And leave the villagers in a position where they'll at least survive," Elidyr concluded. "For a while."

"It's the best we can do," Paimon said, which she hoped was true. If it was, it was also a very sad thing. Perhaps their prophecy was to save the world. But it was not to save Serion. She began to rotate her sling, swinging it around her head, then in a tight circle. Her body started glowing yellow, filling the room.

Elidyr shoved a crate of fish in front of the door, to block the guards from rushing in. In the intense glow of her prophecy light, Paimon could not see his eyes.

Paimon's rune sphere reached the apex of its orbit. From here, it would shoot forward, blasting the wall open with the elemental force of steel and earth. And as Paimon released one end of the sling and let it fly, she realized that this throw would not save the ones she wanted to. And so, like the throw that had haunted her for most of her life, it felt as though she had thrown to kill.

The wall blew open, the straw and wood insulation shattering through the stone outerwork, the entire mass flying into the street. There was shouting all around them, distant but drawing closer. Paimon stood listlessly in the blast zone, then felt Elidyr's hand on her shoulder.

He looked at her. She nodded. "Let's get out of here," she said.
Last edited by Chaser on Wed Sep 02, 2020 4:53 am, edited 1 time in total.
The hardest part of writing science fiction is knowing actual science. The same applies for me and realistic fiction.
  





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77 Days B.N.D


Each breath Lettie took came with a muffled crackle in the back of her throat, like the sound of grinding stones. Her lips had turned so blue, they almost matched the shade of Bel's skin. She was too weak to hold onto him, but she was still breathing. She was still holding on.

Belxibis held her steadily in his arms as he made his way through the forest. The buzz of crickets and other singing bugs in the night made the darkness seem less empty, but their buzzing failed to overpower Lettie's labored breathing. The moon hung in the sky with a waning crescent, shedding just enough light through the leaves of the trees overhead for Belxibis to avoid walking into anything. It was dark, and it was late, but he hadn't stopped once since he left the fire in Serion. He had his pack on his back, his sword and staff strapped to his side, Lettie in his arms, and Tabby the cat, sitting on his head.

Ironically, he hadn't instructed the cat to do so. He'd just taken both of them in his arms and the cat hopped up there, finding its home between his horns.

The moment Railyn and Paimon revealed the singed fabric from the fire he recognized it.

It couldn't have belonged to anyone in Serion. It was a smuggler's symbol, and when it was marked on someone's clothes it would only be revealed when exposed to certain chemicals, or a chemical change. Like when it was burned. Bel knew the crest was linked to the Idora mafia, and that fact unsettled him. He would never put it past the mafia to do a coverup like this in the wake of a plague, but seeing the devastation face-to-face made him beyond angry.

A whole town didn't deserve to be slaughtered because they'd been exposed to a sickness and the mafia decided they weren't worthy of the cure.

And poor Lettie was on death's doorstep, without a family, and without a home, because of them.

Lettie stirred, looking somewhere between half-awake, and half-asleep. She started coughing again. Bel wished, for a moment, that he'd been given powers like Eli's. Then, just maybe, he would be able to relieve her pain again for a moment.

But he wasn't giving up on her just yet. He was determined to find a cure. Somewhere, there had to be something strong enough to save her. His only hope at the moment was reaching out to a contact of his in Nua Port - Alissa. She was a regular customer, and ordered a yearly supply of anti-mage Runic necklaces. It was hard to procure, but she paid well, and was very civil. He hoped she would be willing to do him the favor of meeting for something besides business.

Bel looked down when he felt a small hand reach out from outside her blanket and grab one of his fingers. Lettie was looking up at him.

"Mr. Horns," she wheezed.

Bel smiled with sad eyes.

"I'm here," he assured her.

Lettie looked up at him with half-lidded eyes, each breath still a shivering sack of pebbles.

Bel slowly pulled his finger out of her grasp and shifted her weight to his arm underneath her to free his arm. He grabbed his staff and pulled it out of his belt, then dipped it down within Lettie's reach. Something twisted inside him when he saw a flash of recognition cross her blue-purple features and she weakly curved her fingers around the staff. He was about to let go of it, but he could tell just from looking that if he did, the staff would drop. Instead, he held it with her, keeping it aloft next to her.

"It helps me find things," he explained softly. "It glows when I'm getting close to what I'm looking for, and it blinks really fast when I've found it."

Lettie didn't respond, but he could tell she was listening, or at least trying to. She was still looking up at him.

"It's a little pricey, which was why I was worried about you running off with it at first. I'm sorry about that."

Lettie let out another wheeze and closed her eyes. She leaned into his chest with a tiny, tiny smile. Eventually, her hand loosed its grip around the staff as she fell asleep.

He walked in silence, listening to her breathing punctuate the erratic chirping of the crickets with a steady consistency. Tabby seemed to follow suit and fall asleep along with her, which was evidenced by Tabby almost sliding off his head when he dipped his chin to look down at a tree root, to make sure he didn't trip over it.

Tabby slid down his forehead before he woke up and scrambled, with claws out, back onto Bel's head. Bel winced as he felt the nails scrape his horns and the top of his head, but he didn't want to make any loud noises, at risk of waking Lettie. Instead he just sent a pointed look upward, that the cat couldn't see.

"I'm not a scratching post," he muttered under his breath.

With a sigh, he slowed to a stop. He was thirsty, and he needed to get a hold of Alissa before he got there. If she wasn't able to meet him the trip to Nua would be at worst, a waste of time, and at best, a troublesome detour.

He searched the forest floor for a suitable place to lay Lettie down so he could get his hands free. He cleared away some sticks from a patch of grass under a tree with his feet before lying her down and tucking her blanket up around her shoulders. At least, in sleep, she seemed peaceful - even though her breathing didn't sound like it.

Tabby hopped off his head and joined Lettie's side, curling up beside her. The cat's eyes caught a fleck of moonlight in the dark, glowing gold.

Bel stared into them for a moment, wondering if his eyes were doing the same.

He shook his head and slipped his pack off his back. After setting it on the ground he dug around in the pockets and pulled out the sending stone, feeling for the runic carving with the tips of his fingers.

He held it in his hand, squatted down, glanced over at Lettie, then looked back at the stone. With a simple thought, the rune started to glow.

"Alissa," he spoke. "It's Bel."

There was a delay, before her voice came back distorted and fragmented with hazy clarity.

"Bel? It -- in the middle of the -- what -- calling for? Sorry, things are -- stupid -- okay?"

Bel frowned, not sure how much was missed with how much her voice cut out.

"I need to talk with you," he said. "Did something happen to your stone?"

"Look, Bel, you're coming -- and out. Are you -- Nua? Let's--"

Bel squinted at the stone. "Sorry. Let's what?"

"Godsda-- MEET outside Nua outside -- did you -- that?"

"Where?"

"Usual -- usual spot. How far --"

"A few hours."

The sigh came through clearly. Bel rolled his eyes at that.

"I've got to -- see you soon."

And the stone went silent.

The bright white glow of the rune faded slowly, and Bel tucked it back in his bag. He wasn't sure what was interfering with the magic connecting their stones, but he knew that something had to be happening in Nua that was making it difficult for the magic to work. He didn't pretend to understand the logistics of how the runes worked, he only knew how to use the things he had, and that was the limit of his understanding.

He wondered if he was more knowledgeable, if it was something he could even fix.

He slung his pack back on his shoulders with a faint grunt and turned to Lettie again, picking her and Tabby up with care. She was still asleep. Still breathing.

"I just need you to hold on a little bit longer, Lettie," he whispered. "I'm going to do everything I can to get you help. I promise."

Image


76 Days B.N.D


If he was going to meet with Alissa, he had to say a brief goodbye to Lettie.

Alissa was a decent person, but she would go ballistic if she knew Belxibis was exposing her to bluecough. It was bad enough that he was going to meet her after holding Lettie so close and having more than enough contact to probably be a carrier of the disease, but if he brought Lettie there in person, Alissa was likely to only do one thing, and that was run away. At least, right after cussing him out and probably cutting off ties.

If she really wanted, she could find another supplier. People of his profession were rare, but that didn't mean he wasn't expendable. Bridges could still be burned.

Lettie stirred in his arms, and he looked down. She let out a crackly groan as she started to wake, and he rocked her gently, trying to soothe her. Tabby started to meow along with her, which was poorly timed. They were close to Nua, and just a small distance away from where he was supposed to meet Alissa. He didn't want to draw attention.

"Shh, shh, it's okay," he cooed. "I need to go meet someone real quick, but I'll be back as soon as I can."

Tabby quieted down a little and cuddled up beside Lettie, who still seemed out of it. Bel brushed a lock of hair off her forehead and looked at her face again. Still blue, with no signs of that changing any time soon.

He found a small corner to tuck Lettie away where she would be hidden from sight at the foot of a large tree. The roots wound around the bottom, creating a nook that would prop her up comfortably enough as she curled up with Tabby. He carefully set her down and wrapped the blanket around her gently, and Tabby buried himself into it, between her arms. Lettie would look like she was hugging the cat, if her limbs weren't so loosely hanging around him.

Bel squinted in the dark under the shade of the tree, and brushed Lettie's head again. He could see her blink up at him, but there was no recognition in her eyes.

"See you soon," he said, before giving Tabby a quick scratch behind the ears. The cat leaned into his hand and purred. "Take care of her, Tabby."

Tabby was miffed when he pulled his hand away, but when he stood up the cat returned to cuddling little Lettie. Bel looked out into the trees, and the shadows overlapping on the forest floor. He didn't want to keep Alissa waiting.

Bel hurried on light feet through the trees, taking out his staff and thinking of her sending stone. The stone embedded in his staff started to glow again, and eventually started pulsing.

Their "usual" meeting place was never the same. Usual meant wherever her stone was. And where her stone was, she would be.

He dismissed the light of his staff with a thought when he saw a cloaked figure sitting on a boulder, their feet highlighted by a beam from the moon shining into the small clearing. Belxibis approached slowly, with caution, but as the person stood up and came into the light, his worries were fleeting.

It was Alissa.

She was a human woman somewhere in her forties, with dark skin and long locks pulled back at the nape of her neck. The long dark cloak she wore hovered over the ground, and kept most of her figure in shadows.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Something's interfering with the magic in Nua. It's probably because of the mafia in town. Things are a bit of a mess at the moment. Military's crawling through the streets and arresting people all over the place."

She paused and huffed, drawing closer to him. She looked up into his eyes.

"You look worse for wear," she commented.

"It's been a long night," Bel said simply.

Alissa narrowed her eyes a little, looking up at Bel with a searching gaze. Bel looked down at her, tired.

"So what's the emergency?"

She took another step closer - coming just a little uncomfortably close - and Bel leaned back, just a tad.

"I'm looking for a cure for bluecough. Something stronger. If there's a black market cure--"

"Bluecough? If there's bluecough in the port, I haven't heard of it. I thought it was locked up in Synua."

"Well, it is, but --"

"You want to profit off the plague, just like everyone else. Well you're out of luck. The black market's been shut down since the Mafia came through. If there's any cure floating around I've heard nothing about it."

Bel kept his mouth shut. He didn't want to bring up Lettie, and he didn't want to say anything that would make Alissa press for more information on his motives. So he'd let her believe what she assumed.

But desperation and urgency began swirling in his stomach like a small storm.

"You haven't heard of anything at all? Anything that could help the spread?"

Alissa shook her head.

"I'm a mage, Bel. Not a plague doctor. I'm sorry, but I don't think I can help you."

Bel's heart sunk.

"Oh, come on. Don't give me that," Alissa chided. She reached up and patted his cheek twice, which he found patronizing, but tolerated. He turned his head away slightly, but didn't pull her hand away. Thankfully, she did so on her own. He didn't know what his expression looked like to warrant that kind of condescension, but apparently it was more transparent than he'd hoped.

"You'll make money some other way," she said. "Just stay away from Synua."

"That was my plan in the first place."

"Then it looks like we're on the same page." Alissa bowed her head a little, looking like she was turning to leave already. She took one step and paused, looking back at him with curious eyes and a sly smile. "Was that all?"

Bel's brow furrowed. There was one more thing.

"Which mafia is it?"

Alissa's smile faded, and she looked him up and down. "...The Idora. Why?"

Bel nodded. "Just wanted to know what to look out for," he said with dip of his head. "Thank you."

Alissa smiled again and turned, her cloak fluttering behind her.

"Goodbye, Belboy. And oh - next time you give me a call, try a little earlier, please. Not everyone's a demon like you, babe. Us humans need our beauty sleep."

Bel bristled, but stayed put as he watched Alissa disappear into the darkness. The moment she was out of sight, he turned around and retraced his steps back to Lettie with a pit in his stomach. Meeting with Alissa hadn't given him anything that would help him save her. It'd been useless. He was running out of time. He didn't know what to do anymore.

He hurried back, finding the tree he left her at, and slowed to kneel beside her. He needed to think of something else. He needed a different idea.

Bel reached down to pick her up again, putting his hand behind her head to check on her symptoms.

It was at that moment, he froze.

Even in the dark of night, he could see how much color had drained from her face, apart from her sickly blue lips and the rashes covering her body. Her eyes were closed, and her chest was no longer rising and falling. He couldn't hear the crackle of her breath anymore - and that should've been the first sign. That should've been the first thing he noticed.

He brought two fingers to her neck, desperately feeling for a pulse. There was nothing. Nothing at all.

Tabby let out a meow that sounded more mournful than Bel ever thought a cat could sound. It pierced through the silence like nails on chalkboard. Like a knife scraping against a plate.

Lettie was dead.

He was too late.

Bel stared down at Lettie's dead body, still holding her head under his hand. He could feel the knot in his throat forming quickly, making a tourniquet around his voice. All that came out was a shuddered breath as tears pricked at his eyes and his lips began to tremble.

He'd failed, and it was all his fault.

Belxibis lifted Lettie up and hugged her close.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

Tabby leapt up into Bel's arms, crying.

"I'm so sorry."

Image


The grave, if it could even be called that, was shallow. Lettie wasn't that big, and the earth was soft. Easy to dig up. Bel knelt beside the hole in the ground, staring down at her, hidden under her blanket. Tabby kept crawling into the hole, trying to cuddle up beside her, but Belxibis kept picking the cat up, and setting it on the grass again.

Filling the hole took longer than it should've because Tabby kept interfering. Crying. Whining. Digging up dirt again. And each time, Bel would just pick the cat up, and set it aside.

When the hole was filled, he patted the earth down and bowed his head forward, holding his hands together in his lap.

A part of him tried to tell himself what he imagined people might tell him if anyone kindhearted was around. That it wasn't his fault. That they were sorry. That he'd done his best. But he didn't feel like that was true. All he'd done was left her to die alone in her final moments.

Maybe if he'd stayed with the others, with Eli, with Paimon, and Railyn and Tyri, it wouldn't be like this. Maybe Lettie would've survived. Maybe they would've figured something out to fix things. To help Lettie. To save the little girl's life.

Bel closed his eyes and stood up, feeling the pit in his stomach harden.

He knew he had to go. He couldn't stay forever.

He turned to leave, but stopped and looked back down at Tabby, who had immediately found the center of the mound of dirt and curled up tightly.

"Tabby," he said softly. "We need to go."

Tabby didn't move.

Belxibis sighed and bent down, grabbing the cat for the hundredth time. This time, though, Tabby lashed out with claws, scratching across his armored hand. Belxibis grabbed the cat firmly, tugging it up despite its protests.

"I'm sorry, Tabby," he cooed. "We have to go. Lettie's not coming back."

Tabby hissed, and let out a strangled meow. Bel frowned deeply.

"I'm sorry," he apologized again, knowing that his words meant nothing to the cat that had just lost its person.

He started to walk away, and the further he got from the grave, the less Tabby struggled, and the deeper his heart sank. Eventually Tabby calmed down and settled as a ball in the crook of his arm, and Bel held his staff once again, using it like a walking stick.

Because truthfully, he was starting to get very tired. The night wasn't over yet, but several hours had passed, and though he wasn't entirely lost, he didn't know how he'd manage to get back to the others before they moved from Serion, and he didn't know where they were going next. He didn't know what their plans were, and he had no way of knowing or contacting them. None of them had a sending stone.

That, and he couldn't imagine facing them without Lettie.

Leaning some of his weight on his staff, he walked in the general direction of Serion in a haze of indecision, wondering if he should turn back towards Nua or forget all about the "prophecy" entirely.

It was about at that moment, right when he considered abandoning it all, that he noticed signs of footprints in a muddied wash.

Like some sick form of irony, he received a sign from the universe too late.

He leaned down and studied the footprints, trying to remember what the prints outside of Serion looked like. He thought he saw half of a giant bird's claw in the mud, but he couldn't be sure if it was his sleep-deprived desperation speaking or if he was really piecing things together like he thought he was.

He looked out to where the tracks headed into the trees, a little uphill, and thought for a moment.

If these were the people from Serion, and they hadn't made it to Nua yet, there was only one way to be sure.

He held his staff and thought of the riander root they'd found a fraction of off the side of the road. If they took if from the townspeople like Lettie said, it would be with them.

He watched as the stone on his staff started to glow. Faintly, but the light was there.

He was... close. The root was close.

His heart started to pound in his chest, and he stared back out into the forest, narrowing his eyes with his brows angled downward. His tail flicked around his feet, and he took in a deep breath.

He would find them.

Image


By the time his staff started flickering, the sun had come up. Tabby sat on Bel's shoulder, with his tail wrapped around Bel's neck. For a large portion of the morning, Tabby had been crying again, and as much as Bel tried to soothe him, the cat wouldn't stop. Fortunately, the cat's cries had finally died down, and Bel greatly appreciated that silence. He didn't want to make his presence known before he found the end of the tracks, and until he figured out his plan.

When his staff started blinking faster, Bel dismissed it, and it went out like a candle.

The less he had to draw attention to himself the better. He was trying for stealth, and he didn't know for sure exactly what he was about to stumble upon.

Staying low in the cover of the trees, he inched towards what looked like a cave, and a pretty large one at that. He could catch sight of flecks and smoke from a dying fire, which told him that people were probably still around.

With careful, slow steps, he made his way closer, and peeked through the cover of a leafy bush.

He could see into the cave from the side. There was a group of maybe a dozen men and women camping out inside, and most of them looked to still be asleep. He couldn't make out the details of their clothing, but they looked portions were the same color and make from the piece of charred clothing found in Serion.

Then he heard coughing. Persistent coughing.

Belxibis didn't know how fast bluecough spread, or how fast it moved through a person's body, but the moment he heard the cough he understood. These soldiers, footmen, or whatever they were never made it Nua Port - or were otherwise turned away - because they caught bluecough from the very people they murdered to stop the spread [among other motivations he didn't know.]

Bel furrowed his brow.

It served them right, catching bluecough after all they'd done. It seemed like they were already serving out the natural consequences of their actions, and inevitably, they would lead to death. Unless they still had the cure.

He blinked, as the thought passed through his mind. They were the mafia. Even if they met with someone to deliver the cure, someone would've kept the cure for themselves. Someone in their group had to be selfish enough to hoard it for themselves.

He knew he couldn't get the cure for Lettie... but maybe he could help someone else with it. Someone more deserving.

He looked on his shoulder at Tabby, raising a questioning brow.

"What do you think?" he whispered, barely audible. The cat licked his chin with its sandpaper tongue. He huffed through his nose. That seemed like enough agreement to follow through. He was sure that the people in the cave were likely still able to fight, but being sick, and having surprise on his side, he felt he had at least something on his side.

On light feet, he inched up to the outside wall of rock and side-stepped towards the opening of the cave. This was one of the many moments where he wished he was less blue, and had smaller horns. Poking his head out discreetly to get a better view of the people inside would be solely based on luck, even if he kept his head low to the ground - which he did.

He took a quick peek.

Fifteen people. He was close with his estimation.

Was what he was about to do stupid? Reckless? Impulsive? Pointless? Maybe all of those things, but he didn't care.

He lifted Tabby off his shoulder and set him down gently, giving the cat a light pat before he stood up, drew his sword and entered the mouth of the cave.

He saw someone sit up quickly and aim a crossbow - that seemed to come out of nowhere - at him. He heard a clang against his armor, and then a pain that split through his side.

And then a rush of energy overtook him, and he was seeing not red, but orange.

Image


Everything hurt.

When Belxibis came to he was breathing hard, and his head was spinning. He felt like his head was light as a feather and heavy as a boulder all at once. When his vision finally started coming into focus, he could make out the piles of dead bodies around him in the cave in the faint light of the night. The fire in the corner of the cave had died to a few glowing ashes, barely sustained by two withered logs propped against each other.

He stared down at the bodies, wide-eyed, and recognized some of them as the people from earlier that morning that had bluecough --- wait.

That -- that morning.

Those people were alive when he'd stepped into the cave.

Something thick and red dripped into one of his eyes, and he blinked it away, staring down at the dead face of the man who he was pretty sure shot him. But he couldn't remember. He couldn't remember anything.

His gaze traveled in a circle, and he turned, taking in the brutally tangled bodies around him, splayed atop each other and across the stone floor.

As he turned towards the entrance, he froze as he saw Railyn, looking right at him with his face painted with pure terror and horror. Tyri's face fell in shock. Her staff lit up the room, only bringing more clarity to it all.

Bel felt his head pounding, his heart racing, his body trembling uncontrollably. A sob worked its way up his throat.

Belxibis wanted to run away.

From all of this. But he didn't get a chance.

A wave of exhaustion hit him like a rock, and his eyes rolled back into his head as all of his limbs gave out and he collapsed.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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Omni says...



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76 Days B.N.D


In one moment, all of Railyn's fears and concerns of Belxibis were affirmed as they met eyes around the cave full of dead bodies. Railyn couldn't make out what kind of emotions were hidden beneath those alien eyes, but he didn't care. No emotion would bring these people back.

Belxibis fainted on the spot, collapsing amongst the bodies. If Railyn hadn't just seen him standing there a moment ago, he could have mistaken him for dead as well. Tyri rushed to Bel's side, dropping down to him and touching his chest. "He's still alive."

Railyn fished Ivern out of his scarf and scrambled for a stick from one of the dead campfires. "Ivern, light." Ivern climbed up to Railyn's shoulder and obeyed, blowing a spark at the stick, igniting it. Railyn held his hand around the flame, shielding it from the natural gusts entering the cave. The light danced around the cave, filling in even the edge of the cave. There were more than two dozen or so bodies filled around the cave, and that wasn't including the bodies outside.

Railyn knelt down next to two bodies holding hands, one on their stomach and the other on their back. They were looking at each other, or at least Railyn assumed so, because their faces were unrecognizable with how badly torn to shreds they were. Ivern whined, a high pitch sound that filled the cavern and Railyn's heart with mourning and confusion.

"No one else is," Railyn muttered. He lifted the shirt of one of the bodies, and immediately retracted. Intense blue blisters covered the body's stomach, with equally colored veins spiraling around and disappearing under clothing. "This one has bluecough."

"His damages are severe," Tyri said. She hovered her hand over Bel's body, gliding it up and down. "His insides are severely messed up. We need to get him to Elidyr, or an actual doctor."

Railyn tiptoed around the bodies, heading to the inside wall of the cave. Blood smeared the walls like an abstract painting that sat in one of those fancy houses that had no real meaning, but looked like it was expensive. Here, though, it was just sick.

Weapons of all assortments were piled up carefully in the back of the cave. They looked like they were freshly cleaned and not used in whatever happened here. Bel must have snuck up on them and murdered them without them being aware. Possibly in their sleep? Or while they were eating? Railyn glanced around but didn't find any evidence of food. There was no struggle with these people; they looked like they just gave up and sat down while they were brutalized.

"Railyn. Railyn!" Tyri tapped on Railyn's shoulder, and he turned.

"They're all dead," he muttered hopelessly.

"Please, listen to me. I managed to send a message to Paimon and Elidyr, and they're heading here now." She guided him back to Bel. "We have to get Bel out of here. We can't stay here much longer if we don't want to catch bluecough."

Railyn had never seen such loss of life in his life. They're all dead.

"I know," Tyri said. Railyn didn't realize he said that aloud. "Help me get Bel out of here."

"He deserves the same fate as these people," Railyn muttered.

"Railyn, please."

Ivern tugged at Railyn's collar, and the two meet eyes. Neither of them had ever seen something like this before. Railyn never wanted him to see something like this again. He needed to get Ivern out of here. "Fine."

Railyn moved Ivern to Bel's stomach, where he spun around in a few circles and curled around himself, lying down and purring. Railyn moved to Bel's head and Tyri to his feet.

"You ready?" Tyri asked. Railyn nodded. "Okay. One, two, three!" They both lifted up Bel's body with all of their might. Bel didn't budge.

"Ivern, buddy, I don't think you're helping." Tyri said with a sad smile. Ivern looked at her with blank eyes. She sighed and gently shoved him to the side. He begrudgingly got off with a light growl. "Again?"

Railyn nodded, and they both tried to heave Bel off the cool cave floor, to no avail. Tyri let out a heavy breath. "He sure is heavy."

"He is wearing a full set of armor," Railyn pointed out, looking at Bel's unconscious body. Unlike the rest of the limp bodies in the room, Bel had severe signs of battle on him. His chest piece was dented in several places, and towards his stomach there was a hole in it that dug into his skin. His shoulder pauldrons were battered and bent around, one digging into his arm and the other very nearly into his neck. The metal, once a dull silver color, was now stained with red. Railyn wondered whose blood it was. It reminded him of the scrap metal he put in the grinder at the end of the day back in Yse, twisted and torn before it disappeared underneath spinning metal claws. Railyn was surprised Bel was even alive. "Can we get this armor off?" Railyn said, scanning for clasps.

"Hold on. Stand back," Tyri said, and Railyn obeyed, grabbing Ivern with him. Tyri closed her cloudy eyes and muttered something under her breath. The air around them instantly became thicker, and Railyn could feel something happening, like a Hextech battery had become exposed and electrified the air.

Bel's armor cracked and crinkled. The top suddenly opened up, revealing Bel's bloody underclothes. Like a butcher's package, the armor all over Bel's body opened up and fell to the ground, limp. Tyri stumbled before opening her eyes again.

"Good job," Railyn said. "I still don't think we can carry him with just the two of us." He glanced to the cavern opening. "There aren't too many bodies in the way. I might be able to drag him..."

"I'm sorry, I don't think I'll have the energy to help you."

"You did more than enough, Tyri. I'll meet you outside, you should see if Paimon and Elidyr are close." Tyri nodded, but took a moment to leave. She glanced at Railyn and Belxibis one last time before she headed outside.

Railyn sighed and looked at the bodies in the way of his path. He shook Ivern out of his silk scarf and covered his mouth with it. "Ivern, buddy, I'm gonna need your help with this." Ivern tilted his head at Railyn, flapping his wings so they were eye to eye.

Railyn stared at Bel. Now that they were alone, what was stopping him leaving Bel here to his fate? Or, even, speeding it along? They could finish the prophecy without a bloodthirsty Tiefling hindering their every move, right? No matter how good Bel's intentions, he would always have this blood in his past. Of course, he'd have to explain to Tyri what happened, and Paimon and Elidyr when they arrived, but Tyri even said he was close to... to the end.

Ivern whined at Railyn, nudging his forehead. Railyn sighed and held Ivern's tiny head in his hands. "You're right, buddy. You're right." He glanced back at Bel. "Let's get to work."

The next what felt like forever had Railyn, with his scarf covering, carefully rolling bluecough infested bodies away from Bel's path to the exit with Ivern ('s poor attempt at) helping as he bit ends of their clothes and flapped his wings as ferociously as his little body could go. If anything, it took Railyn's mind off of what exactly he was doing, Seven or so bodies later, and the path was clear for Railyn to begin to pull Bel out.

Railyn gave Bel a good once over for anymore armor pieces attached to his body as Ivern pulled the open pieces away into a corner. Without his armor, Bel was still muscular, but not nearly as buff or intimidating as he once looked. His underclothes were perhaps one or two sizes too small for him, and they were worn from far too much usage. Crumpled like that, Bel looked almost helpless, thin and frail. Under the bloodstains, Railyn could imagine months or possibly years of dirt, grass, and sweat stains. How long had Bel been alone before he found Paimon and Eli, and then Railyn and Tyri?

How many people had he killed before meeting them?

Railyn shook that thought out of his head and began the long trek to the entrance of the cave. The fire from his makeshift torch had long gone out, but he could see faint light from outside. Tyri must have gotten a fire started.

Ivern flew up next to Railyn, tilting his head in confusion at what Railyn was doing. Railyn could see the cogs turning in Ivern's head, and Ivern must have figured out what he wanted to figure out, and bit the bottom of Bel's pants, tugging at them and making Railyn's situation so much harder. "Ivern, stop," Railyn said with what little energy he had left. "Ivern!"

The dragon growled and flew out of the cave, to the light.

And so Railyn and Bel were alone. Railyn just wanted to get this done and over with, and so, through gritted teeth, Railyn mustered some kind of strength through spite and pulled Bel's limp body out of the mouth of the cave. He looked behind him, and could see Tyri around a modest campfire with a pot on top of it. Railyn got them both to a point where he could make out Bel's features again and dumped him on the ground. "Where's... Paimon and E--- you know who," he asked in between catching his breath.

"They are on their way. I believe they were in Syna, so it will take them a moment to arrive." She stood up and walked over to Bel, bringing the pot with her. "I'm no doctor, but I'll see what I can do to stabilize him." She knelt next to Bel's body and poured the thick liquid in the pot on his open wounds. Steam poured forth from the wounds. Railyn glanced at Bel, but saw no reaction from him, even though his skin was literally boiling. He wondered just how close to the edge Bel was.

Tyri was walking herself through her motions with a shaky voice, but Railyn drowned it out. He slipped his pack off and shoved his scarf into it. He sat next to the fire, letting his hands warm against the heat and light. He knew he should help Tyri out in whatever way he could; that was the right thing to do, and Railyn was a good guy, wasn't he? But he couldn't shake the feeling of seeing pure red when he looked Bel in the face. Railyn stared at the fire. At least there was something that matched how he felt on the inside. Railyn had spent so much of his life stifling his anger, his anger at losing his best friend, his anger at always following rules and gaining nothing from it, his anger at seeing so much death. Perhaps some part of him was envious of Bel, envious that he wasn't the one to release his rage. But, he would never be able to. There was always someone who looked up to him, and put him on a pedestal. Right now, it was Ivern, and Railyn would never be able to just let go, he was too responsible, too much of a rule follower, too much of a good person.

Instinctively, Railyn punched the ground, unable to unleash his anger anywhere else. At almost the same time, the fire roared to life, jumping feets in the air. Railyn scrambled back furiously, but the? it was just a moment. He glanced back at Tyri, but it looked like she didn't notice anything.

"Railyn, they're here," Tyri announced, rising to her feet. Railyn looked in the direction Tyri was facing, and saw nothing at first. However, after a moment, two large birds pounced into the view of the light. These still had the Synua insignia on them, like the soldiers from before, and for a moment Railyn thought they were going to have another fight, but he saw Lady flying next to one of them, and let out a breath. Paimon and Elidyr stopped next to Tyri and Railyn's perched birds and hopped off. Their birds chirped at each other lightly.

They both looked far worse than they did when they broke off, especially Elidyr, whose eyes had sunken into his sockets like a skeleton. He swayed after he got off the bird, but his vision settled on the situation intensely. "What happened here?"

"That's a good question," Railyn began, but Tyri interrupted him.

"Elidyr, he needs medical attention."

Elidyr visibly shrank at that, but he knelt next to Bel nonetheless. His brows furrowed, and he let out an audible groan. "He needs an actual doctor. I might end up killing him, or me, if I do much of anything."

"Can you at least stabilize him?" Tyri asked. "I'll help in whatever way I can."

Elidyr mulled her words over. "Are you sure?" He asked in such a way that it sounded like she didn't know what she was offering.

"I don't think there's a choice, is there?" Tyri offered a sad smile that aged her years in a second. Elidyr nodded gravely at that, and Tyri sat next to him.

Paimon sidled up next to Railyn. Her voice was low. "So, what did we miss?"

Railyn gave her a look, and whatever sense of lightheartedness in her gesture vanished immediately. Railyn led her to the cave without a word, and Ivern lit another torch, revealing the brutal scene before them.

"What. The. Hell." Paimon muttered under her breath. "You all did this?"

Railyn shook his head. "Tyri and I found it like this, with Bel standing in the middle of them."

Paimon let out a soft whistle. "Must have been some fight. Almost wish I was here instead of Syna..."

"That's the thing. Their weapons look untouched. This wasn't a fight. It was a massacre." Railyn pointed to the back of the cave, and Paimon headed in. "Careful with the... bodies. They have bluecough."

"Now, that sounds more familiar," Paimon said with a wince as she stepped over and around bodies. She lifted the torch to glance at the walls and soak the scene in fully. With a sigh, she looked back at Railyn. "So, are you sure that Bel did this?"

The thought hadn't even passed through Railyn's mind, and it infuriated him that it did for Paimon. "What do you mean! Of course he did this!"

"I mean, I totally get where you're coming from. But this... this doesn't look like Bel's work."

"I saw him right there!" Railyn pointed to the middle of the cavern, where some armor was still left.

"Sure, but hear me out." Paimon walked back to Railyn. "I saw Bel climb a tree, which was quite a sight to see, by the way, to save a cat of all things. A dumb cat."

"And I saw him murder a group of guards with his bare hands. And, what are you even saying with his 'kind of work'? People shouldn't have signature ways they kill people."

Paimon shrugged, looking back at the bodies. Frustrated, Railyn left her to draw her own conclusions with the murder scene. He knew what happened.

The light from the Sun was starting to shine through the forest, and the fire Tyri started was mostly cinders now. Bel, Elidyr, and Tyri were still closely clumped together, but Bel looked visibly better, while the other two looked visibly worse --which was hard do for Elidyr, since he didn't like good before. Both Tyri and Elidyr were eating some rations from their sacks. Ivern looked up from his position on Bel's chest to look at Railyn with a large yawn. Railyn went to his pack and fished out some food for both him and Ivern. He didn't have much of an appetite, but he forced himself to eat something.

For a moment, Railyn enjoyed the silence as the morning birds woke up and began singing their wonderful songs. The only thing he woke up to in Yse were the sounds of the huge machinations started for the work day. It was a huge relief to hear something different, and so beautiful. Suddenly, he wished he could share this moment with Ryun, and his heart stung.

Tyri spoke up first, directed at Railyn. "He's stable, but we can't move him yet."

"He still needs a doctor," Elidyr added.

"He doesn't deserve one."

"Why?"

Paimon exited the cave, and Railyn pointed to her. "Ask her."

"It's a brutal scene back in that cave. Railyn thinks Bel did it."

"I know he did it. How could you think he didn't?"

"You don't know he did it," Paimon corrected.

"I also saw him in the cave--"

"--How dare you!" Railyn shouted.

"Look, I'm just saying it might not have been him--"

"I knew that bringing him along was a bad idea--"

"What do you mean, 'bringing him along'--" Elidyr cut in.

"Leaving Yse was a bad idea!"

"Does he have blood on his hands?"

"--I shouldn't have stolen that egg--"

"--I think we all have blood on our hands at this point--"

"I shouldn't have went to that Grand Rebellion with Ryun--"

"--I mean literally! Does Bel have blood on his hands?"

Railyn turned on Paimon. "Does it matter? I was there! Tyri was there! Are you calling us liars?"

"Hey!" Tyri shouted, and they all turned their heads to her. She leaned on her staff. "Where's Lettie? She was with Bel last."

They all stare at Bel's unconscious body. Railyn spoke up. "If he didn't have blood on his hands before, he sure does now."

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75 Days B.N.D.


Railyn and Tyri set up a more permanent camp while Paimon gathered water for the "bouncybirds" as she called them. The day stretched out, and they were all much too tired to do much more than that. They took shifts watching over Bel, in the off chance that Synua guards followed Paimon and Elidyr to the cave, with Railyn taking the first and Paimon the second. Elidyr wanted to take the third, but Tyri protested. It was obvious Elidyr had caught bluecough from healing too many people with it, as it was trying its hardest to make itself known on his neck, and his skin had taken a pale blue hue instead of its usual just pale. Day had quickly turned into night as they all rested. Paimon disappeared with one of the birds for an hour or so before coming back with supplies for food.

The Sun had already began its journey to leave for the day by the time Tyri had a sizable enough fire to begin cooking Paimon's ingredients. The only ones still resting were Bel and Elidyr. Railyn personally couldn't sleep much more as his skin felt like it was crawling and he couldn't stop thinking about the bodies so close to them. Ivern hadn't left Bel's side since morning, and Lady had joined him several times, interchanging between sleeping next to Bel and next to Eli all day. Other than gathering the ingredients, Paimon had been in the cave all evening. Railyn didn't bother to ask what she was doing with the bodies. If she wanted help, she would let him know.

Railyn was told that Bel was doing far better than he was the night before, but he couldn't get himself to get near enough to confirm it himself. Even sleeping, or unconscious, Railyn couldn't stand to be near Bel. All he could imagine was Bel's face, full of inhuman rage and his rage directed at Railyn instead of those people in the cave, or the guards before. And, honestly, that terrified him. Bel could snap Railyn like a twig, and the rest of the group wondered why he was a bit nervous around the Tiefling.

And so he stayed around the edge of the camp, deep in his own thoughts.

Paimon walked up to Railyn. He knew she was there, but didn't bother to look up. She stood for a moment before sighing. "Listen. I know you're conflicted right now, but I could use some help burying them. We can't leave them like this."

Railyn glanced up at her. She looked worse for wear, and had dirt all over her. It was no secret that she was exhausted. Railyn had to be honest, he thought she was looking for ways to not blame Bel in the cave. She was a far better person than he was. He nodded.

"We'll have to be careful. I started digging holes next to them because we can't afford to move the bodies more than we need to." Paimon explained. "I wanted to give you time to process whatever it is going through your head, but at this rate, Bel will wake up before I can get the bodies buried by myself."

Railyn didn't say anything, but covered his mouth with his scarf again, and the two of them went to work. Railyn didn't know how long it took them to bury all of the bodies, but Paimon wanted them in separate graves, and he couldn't find a reason to say otherwise. It wouldn't seem right, dumping them all together.

And so they worked through the night and until the next morning. Once they were finished with the bodies, Paimon and Railyn started collecting Bel's armor. Paimon picked up something underneath one of the pieces and held it out for both of them to inspect it. "Does this look like something of Bel's?"

Railyn shrugged. It was a parchment. "Should we open it?" Paimon asked.

"It might have bluecough."

"We might have bluecough."

"True." With that, Paimon and Railyn eagerly opened the parchment, and inside held a bag of several small vials.

"Wait a minute," Paimon said, "this looks like the bluecough cure."

"Why would these people have the cure and not use it?"

"Maybe, just maybe, it means Bel didn't do this."

"You're still on about this? I saw him here."

"Hey, you two," Tyri shouted from the mouth of the cave. "If you're done arguing with each other, there's food waiting for you outside. I thought you could use a break. Oh, also, Bel is starting to wake."

"We can ask Bel about this," Paimon said and shoved the vials in her pocket.

Bel was already sitting up when they got to the campsite. Both of them opened their mouths to speak, but a glare from Tyri stopped them in their tracks. She was helping Bel eat with small spoonfuls. It took an agonizing amount of time for him to finish one bowl, and then a second, before he and Tyri stopped. Bel looked around at the group, who were all staring at him. "What happened?" He managed to say.

Tyri started to speak, but Railyn interrupted her. "Did you kill those people in the cave?"

Now that it had been spoken aloud, it hung in the air like a threat. Without much else to say, they all looked to Bel for the answer, or anything.

He gulped, and tried to speak, but couldn't. After a moment, he struggled to position himself to look at Railyn.

"Yes."
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74 Days B.N.D


After all of the questions, there was only one Bel knew how to answer.

It had been quiet as he'd led them back to the grave, and even quieter as they all stared down at Tabby, who'd found his way back to Lettie, and was curled up on the mound of dirt with fur caked in crusty, drying blood.

Bel, despite how much everything hurt, had been the first to rush to the little cat. A quick inspection told them that the blood wasn't Tabby's own. As much of a relief as it had been, it was also just as concerning. If the blood wasn't from the cat itself, then whose blood had the cat gotten drenched in? That was a question none of them ever got an answer to.

Paimon took care of cleaning Tabby, and even Lady flew over to help, cooing soft meows in a conversation none of them understood, and that Lady didn't share. All they were able to get out of it was that Tabby was scared, hungry, and tired, and Bel was pretty sure everyone felt the same.

Once Tabby was taken care of and looked a little less worse for wear, Railyn said that Lettie deserved a headstone, and no one objected. With sober nods of agreement they got to work.

They didn't communicate much as Bel and Paimon found a stone and rolled it over. Carving the name into the rock took the longest, and Railyn, Paimon, and Eli took turns on each letter. There were many times in Bel's life that he wished he knew how to read or write, but this was probably the moment he wished for it the most.

When the stone was finally placed at the head of the grave, the all sat there in silence for some time.

Tabby found his way back to the grave again, curling up. Nobody stopped him.

Eli set a hand on Bel's shoulder for comfort, but Bel only took it as a sign to move on. It was time to say goodbye for good, and so he walked up, gently picked up Tabby, and they turned to make their way to Nua before the day flew by.

The salty smell of morning ocean air met them before they hit the city's borders. The sun was getting higher in the sky, beating down on them as the thick trees of the forest started to clear a little, giving way to lighter foliage and flowering plant life. A mild breeze came in from the shore, and when they finally hit the edges they could hear the bustling of the busy streets and people out and about.

Bel had been to Nua several times, but never like this. When he passed through Nua Port it was always to do business, and he never stuck around very long. Even in a city as diverse and full of passersby as Nua he still stuck out like a sore thumb. Blending in was hardly ever an option for him, so he made his trips quick and to the point. He knew how to get to where he needed to go, and he knew who he needed to meet, but he never explored, and he definitely didn't meander about like a tourist. Not that they were in Nua to do that either.

They were entering in through the back-alleys of Nua - the only place Bel was more familiar with, and the only place that felt more discreet. Paimon, though, was the one who ended up at the head of the group, leading the way with the casual confidence of someone who seemed to know the streets like the back of her hand.

From their short few days together, Bel noticed that Paimon always had an air about her that she knew what she was doing, even when she didn't. He wasn't sure which it was, and he was too tired to tell or think to ask.

His head hung low as he followed the others through the streets, straggling behind with Eli just ahead of him. Walking around densely populated cities already made him feel like a circus show passing through, but this... this felt humiliating.

And it was his idea.

He couldn't stop replaying the few seconds of memory he retained as he'd come to in that cave, surrounded by the mutilated bodies of now former members of the mafia. Horror didn't seem to do justice to the fear that wrapped around his heart with a vice-like grip and kept squeezing harder and harder at any mention of the 24-hours he lost to the prophecy's curse.

Bel wished he could make something very clear to whatever prophet or higher power dragged him into this cosmic, world-shattering mess and it was this: he had lived his whole life trying to prove to people that he wasn't the monster they assumed he was, and now, he couldn't even control that. And the fact that he couldn't remember taking all of those lives felt all the worse. People - even those on the wrong side of the fight - were still people, and he didn't like having them wiped from his memory while they still weighed on his conscience.

He just wished he knew how to control it. The blackouts, and whatever killing-sprees that happened after.

All of it was making him start to question what he'd tried so hard to believe about himself as far back as he could remember. Maybe he really was the terrifying monster everyone wanted him to be. If that was what came out when his powers took over, maybe that was what was really deep down inside. A demon. A killer. A murderer.

And that was why he was in cuffs.

If he couldn't trust himself, he didn't want the others to suffer the consequences.

Even so, while Bel had been insistent, it still hurt that Railyn so vehemently agreed. Bel could tell ever since he'd woken up that Railyn saw it too: Bel was dangerous, and he always had been. But with powers that he couldn't control, he was even more so. That truth laid on his chest like a ten ton weight.

He shuffled his feet up to a small inn, tucked away among tall plaster homes with sloping roofs and vine-covered walls. The inn itself had dozens of plants outside, adding a splash of green against white.

Tyri and Paimon went inside, taking the roles of chatting up the innkeeper and getting a room for all of them to sleep in while everyone waited outside. Everyone - aside from Railyn, really - had pitched in a little money to cover the cost.

Tyri came out ahead of Paimon with a small smile on her face. "We've got a place to stay the night and rest!"

"Might be a little crowded," Paimon shrugged. "But we're all grown ups here, we can make it work."

"As long as it's quiet, I'm sure it's fine," Eli said. He had a weary look about him, but they all did. Bel knew a lot of that was his fault.

"Quiet, it is!" Paimon said, grabbing the reins of one of the bouncybirds. "They said we can take these guys out back, there's a little shelter for people's mounts, and water and stuff."

"Eli, can you help us lead them back?" Tyri asked, taking another bird by the reins.

Elidyr nodded.

"I can take our things to the room," Bel offered, not waiting for confirmation as he started taking their packs off the bird's backs, slinging them over his shoulder. Things were a little awkward, with his hands still being cuffed together, but he managed. He ignored how much everything hurt. Things were going to hurt for a while. He just needed to get through it. "Which one is it?"

"Room four," Tyri said.

"Should have a nice ocean view," Paimon added, sending a look to Railyn.

"It's the second floor," Tyri clarified. "So..."

"Stairs," Bel concluded. "I got it."

He fit as much as he could on his back and in his arms, but already, his sides were starting to ache. The only indication might've been from him readjusting his grip, but he wasn't really paying attention to how the others were looking at him.

"Railyn, why don't you help him bring everything up?"

Bel didn't look to Railyn, but he caught Railyn in the corner of his eye nodding stiffly in compliance and grabbing the rest of their things. Bel led the way into the inn, having to duck considerably as he entered the doorway. His horns reached higher than the ceiling, which meant ducking the entire way down the hall, up the steps, and into the room.

He knew that buildings were made with averagely sized people in mind. He knew that, and he'd come to peace with that. But sometimes he really, really wished they would make the ceilings just a little higher. Bel could already feel his back and neck starting to ache, and he was reminded of the dull headache that had been lingering in the back of his head, which only grew stronger.

Bel and Railyn stopped in the entrance of the room, looking at the five cots lined against the wall.

It was, indeed, cozy.

Bel laid everything down beside the foot of one cot and sat down on the end of it, already tired of hunching over. He stifled a groan as he sat up straight and felt three consecutive pops in his spine. A shiver ran down his back and his face tensed as he pushed down his discomfort for the hundredth time that day.

He sighed and placed his cuffed hands in his lap, looking idly over at Railyn, who was standing over the other packs with an expression Bel couldn't quite read. He looked like he was mulling something over, or lost in thought. Bel couldn't think of anything to say to break the silence, but he could feel the tension growing in his gut, even if he couldn't explain why.

Something inside him just... knew.

"You know---," Railyn started. "Nevermind."

Bel swallowed. "In -- in Yse. You probably never met anyone who looked like me before, did you?"

Railyn started furiously unpacking the packs. For a moment, he said nothing. Bel found himself watching out of the corner of his eye as he stared at the floor. Railyn sighed. "You never think about... about what you have until you lose it, right?"

Bel nodded slowly. "It's hard, being away from home, I imagine."

Railyn opened his mouth to say something, but stopped. He continued unpacking his stuff. Bel looked down at the packs at his feet. It would be better to do something with his hands to keep busy. He leaned over to his own pack and pulled out a blanket.

He tried to think about Railyn, and what he might think if he were in the kid's shoes. Railyn had spent all of his life in Yse, and had been thrown into a world that was so different than what he was used to. It was a lot of change in a few days. It was overwhelming, and scary. And that was all without the strange, ominous dread of a vague prophecy hanging over their shoulders.

All of that, and Railyn was probably coming to terms with kinds of people he'd suddenly found in his company. Criminals, and murderers. Bel rubbed his blanket between his finger and his thumb, and looked over at Railyn.

"You can say what you want to say," he said. "About me. The cave." A pause, as his eyes darted to the side. "All of it."

Railyn slammed his sack down. "Can I? I-- I feel like. I don't know how I feel around you anymore."

Bel took in a slow breath. "I would never hurt you, Railyn. If that's what you mean." He wasn't going to mention how he didn't know if he could live up to that promise. Addressing that was more than he could handle at the moment.

"I just keep thinking about how those people in that cave, and those guards, how they're just... gone. They won't ever get to feel the pain of losing something, or taking life for granted, ever again."

Bel looked back at the floor, his eyebrows furrowing. "I know," he said quietly.

"How many?" Railyn whispered.

Bel blinked, then looked up at Railyn. "What?"

"How many... have you killed?" Railyn said. "No, don't. I... I don't think I want to know."

Bel couldn't help but stare at Railyn, stuck to the seat, with the blanket in his hands. The question hit something inside him that he didn't know was there. Railyn didn't seem like he was just asking about the last day, or even the last few days. Railyn was assuming Bel was a career killer, or just happened upon murder all throughout his life.

The worst thing was, Bel didn't even know if he could answer that question honestly. Even without the powers he'd gotten, there was so much of his life that had been lost to time, or trauma, or whatever. He didn't know. He just knew he couldn't remember a lot of things that most people didn't have trouble recalling.

And he didn't know how to say any of that to Railyn, not that he even wanted to.

Railyn finally turned to look at Bel, or at least in his direction. "Back in the cave, I uhh. I couldn't believe that you killed all those people. You looked almost fragile when you were out." He cleared his throat. "Not like the bodies. They were peaceful, like they had fallen asleep. Ironic with all the blood. You weren't, though. You were... frail."

Surprisingly, Railyn sat down next to Bel on the bed. "I had thoughts." He choked up. "Thoughts... thoughts about... doing the same to you as those bodies." Tears leaked down his cheeks. "I'm not a good person. I'm no better than those murderers." He kept repeated those two lines as tears streamed down his face. It quickly morphed into incoherent mumbling, and Railyn laid his head on Bel's arm.

It took a moment for what Railyn was saying to register, but when it did, Bel was almost disappointed in himself that he wasn't surprised. Railyn wasn't the first person who wanted to kill him, and he wouldn't be the last. But hearing that come from Railyn had not been something he'd expected. He didn't think Railyn would be so honest, or vulnerable.

He took in a deep breath and hesitantly lifted his hand - from the arm Railyn wasn't crying on - and set it on Railyn's head. He was just able to manage it with the short chain between his cufflinks.

Words were not coming to him easily. All of the things he could think to say sounded wrong. Commiserating over the murder in their hearts wasn't what Railyn needed, or what he was looking for, and Bel didn't think thanking Railyn for not ending his life was what the boy needed to hear either.

"I think--" he started, trying to wade through the muck of his mind. "Saying that. Was very brave. Not everyone has the strength to admit to the things they almost did but didn't do." He started to stroke Railyn's head, lightly.

"You've got a good heart, Railyn. To even feel guilt over that. Some -- some people don't. Their conscience... is seared."

Railyn hiccuped, but his sobs quieted down. "I'm sorry."

Bel took in another deep breath and closed his eyes for a moment. He wanted to make sure his next words were ones he meant, and for that, he had to pause.

He slid his arm out from under Railyn's head and turned to grab the boy's shoulder, albeit a bit awkwardly, since he had to do it with both hands on one. He looked down into his face, even if Railyn wouldn't meet his eyes.

"I forgive you. Okay?"

Railyn stuttered for a moment. "I-I still want to figure out what happened to those people in the cave." He let out a stifled sigh. "Even if it... was you." Railyn met eyes with Bel. "Was it?"

"Honestly," he said. "I don't know. I -- I can't remember anything." He let go of Railyn, hands returning to his lap. "I don't know what to call it, but when I was in that state, with I guess, my eyes glowing, and whatever else, I can't remember any of it. That whole day is just... gone."

"We'll figure it out. Together." Suddenly, Railyn embraced Bel in a hug.

Bel froze for a moment, staring out into the room as his brain delayed in processing what was happening.

Railyn muttered something, but it was muffled from their embrace. Well, Railyn's embrace. Bel hadn't quite realized he was supposed to hug back yet. He'd never actually been hugged before, that he could recall. That, and his arms were pinned between him and Railyn, and he couldn't think of how to bring them around, with his hands bound together.

Finally, he managed to twist his arms to the side, halfway around Railyn's back, and he patted. Was that what you were supposed to do?

"Thanks, Railyn," he said quietly.

Railyn lifted his head from the embrace, with his chin on Bel's shoulder. "Thank you." Railyn's tears had left Bel's shirt just a little damp. "Your shoulders are... uh, very broad."

"Uh." Bel blinked. "Thanks."

Ivern's head popped out of Railyn's scarf with a purr. Railyn let out a nervous laugh, and leaned back a little. The dragon climbed up to Bel's horns and wrapped his tail around the two. "Ivern supports us not being mad at each other anymore."

Bel grinned, even though his head ducked a little under Ivern's weight. He still had a headache.

"Glad to know we're all in agreement," Bel chuckled.

"In agreement with what?" Paimon's voice interjected as she entered the room, making a bee-line for one of the cots and flopping down on it unceremoniously. Tyri followed in after with Tabby in her arms, with Eli and Lady close behind.

Bel pulled away from the hug and reached up to find Ivern's head somewhere between his horns and gave the dragon a pat. He glanced at Railyn, whose face was flushed from crying. "Uh, we were just talking about trying to figure out what happened while I was out." He paused, correcting himself. "Well, not out, but - when I er - went orange," as Paimon would say. "I still can't remember anything that happened, no matter how hard I try."

Tyri sat down on the cot beside him, leaning her staff against it. "Well, we can start with what we know," she said. "And ask about bluecough, and go from there."

"Yeah," Paimon agreed. "We can do some detective work for you. Asking around town is a good start." She sat up and looked over at Railyn, who was discreetly trying to wipe his eyes. "You wanna explore Nua with us?"

"We could make our way down to the docks," Tyri added.

"Exploration sounds fun," Railyn said.

"Then its settled!" Paimon chirped. "We'll walk around town and see if we can find any clues, while you two rest."

Her gaze drifted to Bel and Eli, who exchanged glances. Eli still didn't look too good, and though he'd been trying to hide the bluecough rashes while they'd made their way to the inn, anyone who took a closer look could tell Eli looked sickly.

"Eli needs a doctor," Bel said.

Eli had taken some of the cure that they'd found back in the cave, but all it had done was stifle some of the symptoms. He was still getting progressively worse. He needed more than a little vial of riander root.

"Why don't you two find the infirmiry?" Tyri suggested. "You both could use a doctor, honestly."

Eli and Bel exchanged glances again.

"Well do that," Eli agreed.

"Oh, a visit to the infirmiry?" Paimon said, getting to her feet and stretching. "Don't ask about the head doctor there."

Eli narrowed his eyes at her. "What?"

Paimon was already making her way to the door, grabbing Railyn by the wrist and dragging him there. "You two have fun!" she said. "Come on, Tyri!"

Tyri paused, still holding Tabby in her lap as she sat on the cot. Her unfocused gaze drifed towards Bel, and she smiled. She lifted Tabby off her lap and handed the cat to him. Bel took Tabby in his hands, and the cat's body stretched out and then squished again as he plopped him in his lap.

"There was a girl at the stables who helped us with the birds," Tyri said, digging into her pocket. She pulled out a small blue ribbon. "She gave me this, for Tabby. If you want it."

She offered it to Bel with a warm smile, and Bel took the ribbon from her hands.

"Stay safe," she said as she got up and glided towards the door with her staff. "And don't push yourselves. We've all had a long few days."

Bel nodded as she left the room, only to realize too late that she couldn't see it.

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Bel had to admit, Tabby looked very cute with the blue ribbon tied around his neck, and Bel felt his heart swell every time he looked at him. He wasn't used to having animal companions, and he'd lived without them for as long as he could remember, but suddenly, he found himself very, very attached.

Tabby was becoming more affectionate too.

He scratched Tabby's chin as they walked through the back-streets and alleyways, with the cat on his shoulder. Oddly enough, it felt strange walking around without a full set of armor. He'd grown so used to the feeling of shifting metal around all of his joints that just wearing normal clothes felt both freeing and ridiculously vulnerable. It probably didn't help that even the most simple movements still felt strained, and his still-healing body was aching all over.

He looked over to Eli. It was kind of funny, now, seeing the two of them with felines perched on their shoulders as they walked side by side.

"So... I know you and Paimon went to Synua," he started, keeping his voice low. "She told me the gist. Basically, it didn't end well, but you got out. Was there anything else I missed while I was gone? Or, when I was out of it?"

Eli hummed and glanced over, swallowing shallowly. "Apparently, we found Lettie's father," he said, a little hesitantly. "They had the villagers....a pit full of the sick...cages... It was horrible."

Bel frowned deeply. "I'm so sorry."

He waved Bel off. "Don't be sorry, Bel. I've seen worse... Asturia enslaves their conquered enemies... It was still horrible... I want to go back later, maybe try and save them?"

Bel nodded in agreement. "We should," he said. "If we can."

"Mmh," Eli hummed, sighing and giving Lady a scratch under the chin. "But I don't want to wait... I feel like if we do, they won't be there when we get back..."

Bel pursed his lips and looked at the ground. Eli said that they'd had bluecough. With how quickly bluecough was moving through people who didn't have healing powers from magical prophesies, they might not even be there if they got there tomorrow.

"I don't know if we'll be able to save everybody," Bel said quietly. "Not just from bluecough... but - whatever else is coming, that we still don't know about."

Eli nodded. "Yeah, and my vows as a healer makes me want to help....but I can't... There were too many..." He sighed. "It felt like having my hands bound and I hated it... Still hate it..."

Bel reached over and put his hand on Eli's shoulder. It was a little awkward, still, with both his hands cuffed together. "You saved me from the brink of death, Eli. That counts for something, and I'm beyond grateful."

He sniffed a little and shifted closer, leaning into him. "I'm glad I did, Bel. I don't care what Railyn says, I don't think you did it..." He paused and then glanced up at Bel. "I'm so tired, Bel. So damn tired."

Bel's eyebrows drew together, and he looked down at Eli with understanding. He was tired too.

"Let's hope there's a doctor who can help you out," he said softly. "I'm sure feeling better physically will help. At least, a little."

"Yeah," he muttered, nodding a little. "I'd rather not die of this, to be honest. Not before we do whatever the hell the prophecy wants us to do, you know?"

Bel laughed weakly, and patted Eli's shoulder before letting his cuffed hands fall back down in front of him. "I'd rather you not die, too."

"Thanks, Bel."

Bel managed a smile, and let their conversation lull so he could focus more on navigating.

The two of them followed the directions of the innkeeper. Two rights, a left at the fountain, and keep going straight, you can't miss it. The innkeeper was wrong about not being able to miss it. They almost did - which, in hindsight, probably had more to do with their current physical state than the humbly sized sign out front marked "clinic."

It was another bright white building, but this one was three stories tall, and had a flat roof. There were narrow but tall windows checkering the front, framing a sun-stained wooden door.

Before Bel's hand met the door handle, it opened, and a man with dark skin and a broad smile welcomed them. That was, until he actually looked at the two of them. His smile fell and was replaced with brows knit in concern.

"We're here to get checked for bluecough," Bel said.

The man didn't meet his eyes as he pulled the door open. "Bluecough? There's no bluecough in Nua," he said. "But I can tell you look unwell. Please, come in," he said with a wave of his hand. "I'm Doran."

"Belxibis."

Bel let Eli go in first, and had to duck his head again to accommodate for the low ceilings. His horns accidentally scraped across the ceiling for a moment and he flinched down, giving the nurse, or attendant, an apologetic look, but the man didn't even look at him. His focus was on Eli.

"Let me get you to a bed," the attendant said, scanning Eli's face as he led them down a narrow hall. Bel was starting to feel cramped, and his back ached. He felt like a hunchback, following behind them. Tabby crawled up to his head and curled up behind his horns.

They passed a few open doors, and Bel glanced in each room - catching glances of beds and a few doctors and nurses walking around. There were curtains drawn up between many of the patients, making it hard to truly tell how many people were in there. But things seemed busier than the outside of the infirmiry let on.

Things were rather quiet, aside from a few muffled coughs heard distantly down the hall mixed with the mellow mutterings of doctors.

The attendant led them into a small room with only three beds, each one covered in sheets of a faded blue, and gestured to the far one for Eli to sit down, which he did. Lady fluttered in the air and curled up beside him. The attendant looked to Bel expectantly, his head arching upwards to look Bel in the eyes. He gave Bel a polite smile that withered under scrutiny. The man didn't say anything, but his eyes flicked briefly to Bel's cuffs, then up to his horns just long enough for Bel to catch it. There was a pause, as they made stiff eye contact. Bel didn't break it, silently challenging the man to do it himself. Which he did, only a second later, after clearing his throat.

Bel moved to sit down on the bed across from Eli's and looked to the attendant in the doorway.

"Someone will be with you shortly to check up on you," the attendant said, his voice still placid and polite. "Please be patient, we'll get to you as soon as we can."

And with that, he disappeared.

"Somehow," Eli muttered, keeping his voice low, "I don't think that attendant was telling the truth..." He flicked a glance towards the doorway, then to Bel. "Can you hear the coughing?"

Bel nodded, following Eli's glance. "Not very subtle," he said quietly.

"Mmhmm, exactly." Eli gave him a crooked smile. "No bluecough in Nua indeed." He glanced towards the doorway again. "Such a blatant lie..."

"You'd think they--"

Bel stopped as a woman in clean white robes came in, with a pair of spectacles pinching her nose. She had long brown hair pulled back in a braid and a look on her face that was wearied, but sustained by the necessary niceties required in a healing exchange.

She had a vial in her hand that looked familiar, but the liquid inside seemed a little less diluted than the vials of the cure they'd found back in the cave.

Striding to Eli's side, she handed it to him. "I'm Doctor Berith Fel. Here, take this," she said gently. "This should help."

"What is it?" Eli asked. Bel knew he was playing dumb.

"It's just your typical cold medicine. Doran told me your symptoms. This will help your body fight it and kill the cough. With a lot of rest and a lot of water you should recover just fine."

Eli took it and sent Bel a look, then downed the 'cold medicine' without comment. "And the others? Also just colds?"

Doctor Fel waved her hand dismissively, with a smile. "It's cold season," she said. "You'll be fine."

"Mmh, of course." Eli didn't sound too convinced to Bel, but he also wasn't....arguing with the doctor. He sent Bel another look and pocketed the vial while the doctor wasn't looking. "Wait, Fel? As in...." He trailed off, snapping his mouth shut. "Nevermind."

The doctor's head tilted to the side, but at Eli's dismissal she stood up straight again. "Well, I do have other patients to tend to, so I think that's all. Unless you'd like anything else checked out while you're here?"

"No."

"We're good," Bel said, standing. For the first time since Doctor Fel had entered the room, she looked up at him. Her eyes drifted to Tabby, on his head. Bel didn't care how silly it looked. This was his life now. The cat had chosen him, and he'd accepted it.

"Thank you for the medicine," Bel said, and turned to leave. He looked back at Eli and nodded his head. Eli got up and followed after him, and Lady coming a half-second later, glided back onto his shoulder.

"Rest up!" was the doctor's last piece of instructions before they shuffled out the door, down the hall, and back into the street, where Bel could finally stand up straight again. He waited until the infirmiry was behind them before looking over to Eli.

"Even though she was lying, she was right about one thing," he said. "We should rest."

"I agree," Eli said, sighing. "I'm so damn tired, Bel."

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74 Days B.N.D


Everything was glowing gold and orange, like it was covered in a foggy haze.

He was back in the cave, before the massacre. Most of the people were asleep, peacefully lying down on their bedrolls and breathing softly, aside from the occasional cough.

He was moving quickly, stepping gingerly over bodies and grabbing bags and travel packs, digging through the pockets and dumping them out onto the ground. There was an arrow sticking out of his arm, but he couldn't feel it. It got caught on the snagged on the strap of a bag and was yanked out, causing him to snarl.

He dropped the bag, feeling frustrated, and finding nothing but clothes, food, and normal things people would travel with. There was no cure. There was no medicine. He shook a bag empty, watching a few miscellaneous tools fall out. He frowned as the woman at his feet stirred in her sleep with a raucous cough, but she didn't open her eyes.

Someone ahead of him said something that sounded like it was being spoken through a wall of water.

"Go away! We have bluecough! Stay back!"

In a moment, Bel was squatting in front of the man, holding his collar, staring into the man's eyes. He had bluecough rashes on his neck, peeking through. He sniffed.

"What are you here for?"

Bel gave no answer and dropped the man to the ground. He looked down at him, struck by the man's dumbfounded expression. His heart was pounding.

"Who are you?"

When he blinked, he was looking at Alissa. She sat across from him in what he assumed was her home. She'd never let him inside before, but it was what he might've imagine it was like. There were a lot of decorations, lots of patterned blankets, patterned rugs, and candles keeping the room alight and filled with a calming scent. They were sitting on a cushioned bench that sat against the main wall, and she was leaning in towards him, with a mix of fear, curiosity, concern, and awe in her eyes.

She put her hand on his back as she whispered in his ear.

"If you're looking for the cure, your best bet would be the military compound. It's a little outside Nua, by the water. There's a bunker there that's been in use, especially since they took over Nua."

She pulled away, looking up into his eyes, trying to search them for something. Her hand went up to his cheek, but he pushed it away before she could touch him.

As he waved his arm the scene changed abruptly.

He was in a cold, dark hall, and he was running. Then he was surrounded. Images of swords and arrows and piercing metal flashed before his eyes before he broke through, coughing up blood. Something had pierced through his armor into his side, and all he could feel was the blood and bile bubbling in the back of his throat as he stumbled forward. His legs seemed to carry him without protest, and still, no pain. He had something in his hands, a package. Precious cargo. But what it was, he couldn't remember.

The image of a woman with blades for legs appeared before him. Her hair was silver, and her eyes were piercing. One was blue, and one was red, and she was staring at him like she was assessing him. Determining his worth.

And then, he was there. Back in the cave, looking back at all of the sick people sitting and standing, seeing him and immediately standing guard. Another arrow notched in his armor as he turned at the sound of rumbling footsteps. He barely caught a glimpse of the mounted soldiers before everything went dark, and he could feel the blood pooling in his gut.


Bel's eyes shot open, and his clothes were drenched in sweat. He felt his shirt peel off the back of his cot as he sat up, shivering and breathing hard. He tried to reach for his blanket, somewhere, but it was on the floor. His cuffs clinked together at the sudden movement. He'd forgotten he had them on, but now that he was awake, he felt it. Both phantom and real pains - he couldn't tell the difference between the two - throbbed all over.

He tried to catch his breath.

His vision was blurry, and wouldn't focus. His hands were trembling in his lap, and he felt like he could vomit. He could still feel the blood pooling in the back of his throat, like he was drowning, but there was nothing there. With his forearms on his knees, he leaned forward, holding his head. The room was dark, but a faint light filtered in.

He felt four paws land on his back, and he gasped. Tabby.

"Bel?"

Bel looked up at Eli, who looked more like a fuzzy version of himself, propping himself up with one arm on the cot beside him. Bel took in a slow, shuddered breath, but it didn't help anything. His sweaty clothes were cold, and yet he was burning.

"Yeah."

Eli rubbed his eyes and sat up slowly. Lady stirred beside him, fluttering her wings.

"What happened?" Eli asked. "Are you okay?"

Bel lifted his trembling hands to his head, trying to brush a curl out of his face.

"Bad -- I -- I had a dream--memory. I think it was a memory," he stuttered. "Two -- three -- days ago. I almost died."

Tabby hopped off his back, and pushed himself between Bel's arms. Bel sat up a little straighter.

Eli sucked in a sharp breath. "Shit, no wonder you were so hard to heal, Bel..."

He couldn't stop breathing like he'd just sprinted through the forest. He could feel the snapping branches catching on his clothes if he closed his eyes.

"I..." His voice hitched. "I don't - I still don't know if I did it," he said, running his hands through his hair. "If I killed all those people. But there were soldiers. They followed me, I think."

Realization dawned on him and he lifted his head to stare at the wall.

"I led them there."

Eli swore and sat up, leaning towards him. "Do you think maybe they did it, not you?"

Bel swallowed. "I don't know," he whispered. "But I want to believe it wasn't me. I really do."

"I told you before, but I'll tell you again; I don't think you did, Bel." Eli offered him a tired smile. "So, you remembered some of it?"

He nodded again, slowly. "I saw Alissa again," he said, not remembering if he even told them about her in the first place. "She pointed me to some military compound. A bunker, outside Nua. I - I think I made it in, somehow."

"A military--a bunker?" Eli stared at him, eyes wide. "By the Mother, Bel, you have some ridiculous luck!"

"I barely made it out alive," he said. "And there was this woman. I can't remember -- but she had blades for legs, and one of her eyes was red. The other one was blue. I can't get her face out of my head."

He sucked in a sharp breath, face gone pale. "Oh, shit." He cleared his throat and shook his head, waving Bel off. "You should probably try to rest more."

It was a very poor deflection.

Bel looked up at Eli, his eyes finally focusing after a blink revealed the haze was actually tears that made their way down his cheeks.

"Do you know her?"

Eli sent him a look, completely dodging the question. "You should rest, Bel."

Bel furrowed his brows and stared back at him. "You know something, and you're not telling me," he said lowly. "Why?"

He looked away, closing his eyes. "She's dangerous, Bel. Now go back to sleep. It's late and we both need the rest."

Bel shot Eli a pointed glare, but he took in a deep breath and laid back down. Tabby hopped on his chest.

"I'm going to ask you again," he said. "And I want an answer."

"I... I can't," Eli whispered, turning his face away. "I'm sorry, Bel."

With that, he laid back down and rolled over, putting his back to Bel.

Bel stared at his back for a while before turning to stare at the ceiling.

He knew he wasn't going to be able to fall back asleep any time soon.

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Bel waited until Eli was asleep. When he was sure that Eli was out again, Bel looked at Tabby, curled up on his chest, sleeping peacefully. The little blue bow had traveled around his neck so at the moment, it was right behind the cat's head, perfectly centered. It felt like too perfect a moment to ruin, but it was inevitable.

Bel lifted his cuffed hands up and over Tabby, bringing his hands to the cat's head. He scratched behind Tabby's ears, and Tabby stirred, pressing his head into Bel's hands.

Bel smiled.

He picked Tabby up as he sat up, and kissed him on the head. Tabby purred softly, and Bel held the cat close. If he wasn't trying to sneak out, he would've told the little cat goodbye. Instead, he just set the cat back down on the cot and scooted to the edge, where he reached down for his shoes.

He got one shoe on when he felt like he was being watched.

He looked up and saw Lady, staring at him with wide eyes that caught the moonlight.

Where do you think you're going? she asked, sounding angry or annoyed. It was hard to tell.

Bel sent her a pleading look and held his finger to his lips. "I'll be back," he mouthed. A terrible lie. He didn't know when he'd be back.

Lady continued to stare at him as he tied his other boot, but she didn't move or try to wake Eli. After a moment, she huffed and rolled her eyes, snuggling into Eli's side even as she kept watching him.

Bel carefully grabbed his sword off the floor and tip-toed to the door, glancing back at Eli and Lady one last time. Tabby, too, who was watching him now, but Tabby couldn't speak his mind.

He offered Tabby a small smile before he slipped out.
Pants are an illusion. And so is death.

  





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74 Days B.N.D


To Paimon, Nua Port had always been a city of beautiful strangers. Look too closely and they would vanish on a ship or caravan to lands far and unknown. The locals here had learned to smile and duck their heads, so that the grand outside world could pass them by. Military occupation hadn't changed that habit; if anything, it made it all the more prominent.

"No, I'm afraid I don't know anything about bluecough," said the baker, who looked down into his dough instead of Paimon's eyes. When he looked at her again, he was smiling. "But I think that's a good sign, don't you?"

Paimon sighed out her nose and leaned on the street cart's counter. "Yeah, man. I think it's good, too. How much is this?"

"Nine Gildar total," the baker replied, his smile becoming genuine. "They'll be ready in just another second."

"Mmhm." Paimon turned away and looked across the street. The city was built on an incline, so that many streets had balconies that overlooked the bay. Railyn was leaning his forearms on the railing, staring out to sea with the breeze ruffling his hair. Paimon could only imagine what was going through his head.

It's probably the biggest piece of water he's ever seen, she thought. Poor kid. From what she'd heard of Yse, it sounded like living in a big, pitted lump of coal. Over the past few days, he'd been hit with everything at once: the horizon colors, the insects buzzing, the shapes in the forest that you just couldn't quite capture. Paimon had never taken her childhood for granted -- but she still felt guilty. Though, this was a manageable level of guilt. If she'd had the audacity to enter Nua Port, she could do anything today, even interrogation, which seemed like a nearer and nearer possibility.

"Here you are!" The baker said, holding up three circular rolls of bread. The bread had been cooked to a hard, thick shell, and inside was a concoction of spicy-flavored fish and clam, worked into a steaming stew. It was the famous flaritzer, a Nua Port classic.

Paimon took a whiff. The rich, flaring smell had a little bit of nostalgia; it was innocent enough to remember fondly.

The baker smiled as he counted the Gildar. "By the way, where did you say you were from?" This was an old trick by people trying to be chummy. Paimon hadn't said anything about where she was from. But now she needed to be polite. Actually, she could have walked away, but the pause she had took to think all this had left her standing there, blank-faced. Now she looked suspicious.

"N-nu...Syna," she stammered out.

The baker raised an eyebrow. "Nu Syna?"

Paimon nodded fiercely. "It's like Syna, but Nu." She scooped all three flaritzers into her arms and walked away before the baker could reply.

Railyn turned around as she walked up, screwing one eye shut against the sudden wind. "Those smell pretty good," he said. "What are they?"

"They're the best thing you'll ever taste," Paimon said proudly. "Now, let's find Tyri and we can enjoy these by the waterfront."

Railyn's eyes widened a bit, and he cast a glance towards the docks. She could tell that the idea of being close to the water excited him.

They walked down a sloping street that was paved with artfully angled tiles. A lot of the buildings in Nua Port were covered in white plaster to keep them from taking in too much sunlight. As a side effect, the whole town seemed to glow in the midday.

Paimon was explaining things before she knew it. "We're about to hit the fishy zone, so plug your nose. The fish they bring in at the docks gets picked up by the wind, stinks the place up from about noon to sunset."

"Do you come to this town often?" Railyn said. It sounded funny with his nose pinched.

"Nah," Paimon said. She clasped her hands behind her head, tried to keep her voice level. "I'm just from here."

"Really?" Railyn turned to her. "So, you know most people here?"

She looked away. "Eh. It's a big city. Let's see if Tyri turned up anything first."

Tyri had gone down to the docks ahead of them to ask the sailors about any outbound shipments. She had a knack for making her way with strangers, but even that hadn't helped them much in their search. So far all they could know was that there was no bluecough in Nua Port. Even an innocent stranger could only be told so much.

Paimon's brow furrowed moodily. Could she be called a stranger? She wracked her brain as they walked. She had wanted to return to her hometown a different person than she had left it. That was why she had left at all; she knew most travellers felt the same.

Down at the docks, the scent of fish had taken on a life of its own. It swam over their heads and shoulders, like a whale made of mist that reeked to high heaven. They were a few streets away from the harbor when the earth dropped out from under them.

Paimon saw Railyn stumble to the left, and snagged him before he could go over the side of the path. "Careful," she said. "Walking around here takes some getting used to." The shore had fallen off into deep cerulean water, but the street continued, links of wooden platforms spanning the water. Houses, too, were anchored down by reeds that were tied beneath the water. The span of streets formed a lattice of homes that rested upon the water's surface; it was Nua Port's famous floating district. The district itself was surprisingly sturdy, but the bridges to and from had to be flexible to account for the tide's rise and fall.

"I can't imagine how Tyri is able to get around," Railyn remarked. "This place is wobbling everywhere."

"She'll be fine," Paimon said. "She's got that Primal Sense helping her out."

"Oh, is that what that is?" Railyn looked over at her.

Paimon shrugged, overly casual. "I mean, yeah. Maybe. I don't know."

Tyri was talking up to a large, mustachioed man who was standing on a boat, tossing fish to his partner on the dock to be stowed away. Each fish was as long as his forearm, and he kept flexing after each toss.

"So you see, young lady -- hwah! We have been given little notice of any new developments from Syna. Nay, even the shipments thereto and from -- hoo! Have been halted indefinitely! The only new development as of late is the clearing out of the main port! Something about an important arrival."

"I see," Tyri replied, patient and calm as the fish continued to fly. "Do you know what that arrival could be?"

"Foolish!" shouted the mustached man, booming across the harbor. "The only important arrival is fish, young lady! Fish are what sustain life! They are the counterpoint to the fisherman! The yin of the yang! Life's sustenance and eternal essence! Hoo hah!"

Tyri pursed her lips for a second, before she seemed to spot Paimon and Railyn's auras. She waved them over, and Paimon discreetly raised the collar of her cloak to hide the lower half of her face.

Up close, Tyri looked a little relieved. "Well, it's been a pleasure talking to you, Mr....?"

"I have no need for a name," the man proclaimed. "I am defined by the fish that I supply. Merely call me Fisher."

"Mr. Fisher, thank you, and I ought to be going." Tyri flashed a generous smile.

Fisher's eyes narrowed. "You there!" he shouted, pointing his finger at Paimon.

Crap, Paimon thought, holding her cloak up higher. "Um, yes?"

"You look unwell!" Fisher pulled out a fish as long as his entire arm. "Have a fish!" he roared gregariously, hurling his fish straight into Paimon's arms, nearly knocking her over.

Paimon, now with a precarious hold on the fish and three flaritzer rolls, nodded thanks.

"May your catch be plentiful!" Fisher shouted as they walked away, "and your seas smooth!"

"He seemed nice," Railyn said, looking back. "Kind of loud."

"Yeah, he's always been," Paimon muttered. "Let's sit down and eat all this stuff."

They sat down on a small wooden bench on the waterfront walk, unheeded by the tourists passing by. Railyn lowered his scarf to let Ivern out, and the dragon crawled over his lap to nibble at the flaritzer roll. Railyn rubbed his neck. "He's not getting any lighter," he quipped.

They ate the flaritzers, stopping to comment every now and then that it was, in fact, pretty good. The heavy mood from the past few days had lightened a bit; it was hard to be angry in a beautiful town. Most tourists came here to be anyone but themselves, but Paimon was now in the opposite situation. Ivern smacked up the rest of Railyn's roll when he wasn't looking, smearing the fish stew all over his little mouth. In the end, they didn't even touch the giant fish, and it lay across Paimon's lap, basking in the sun.

"So, any progress?" Paimon asked.

"You probably just heard all of it," Tyri said dejectedly. "An important arrival. That's as vague as it could possibly get."

They looked over at the the harbor. Some houses were being unmoored and moved around, a single road expanding outwards to become the main port. As they watched, one of the houses bumped into another, leading to shaken fists between two neighbors.

"The Royal Guard has to be around here, but we don't know where their base is," Railyn offered.

"The locals probably don't want to spill anything on the higher-ups," Paimon said. "Bow and smile and shut up, as they say."

"I got that sense too," Tyri said. "I'd hoped that Bel had more information from his contacts, but it seems like we're out of leads."

Paimon emphasized a sigh. "Yep, hah, it sure seems like it." She was trying to ignore Railyn's stare. "Nothing we can do about it, huh..." She glanced at Railyn, whose gaze had only intensified. It was with this level of intensity that he'd accused Bel, but this time Paimon knew his accusation was well-founded.

"Alright, alright." She sighed and stood up. "Gimme a break. You know, I thought the prophecy would take us out of Synilas, to some far-off kingdom or other. I just didn't think that this would come up, y'know?"

"Didn't think what would come up?" Tyri asked.

"I grew up here," Paimon grumbled. "Come on, there's one place we can still try."

A walk feels shorter when you know the route. It feels longer when you deliberately drag your feet. Paimon was caught between those feelings, stretched between the forward drive of the prophecy and the urge to run away.

Railyn sidled up next to her. "Hey. Uh, I didn't mean to make you -- I mean, I don't know if I could make you do this. I just want to know what happened with Bel."

Paimon nodded. "I get that. If he really is capable of doing all that stuff in the cave." She had spent a long time staring at those dirt walls, the stench of bluecough hanging around.

"It's a lot to think about," Railyn said, and it looked like he wanted to say more.

"Yeah." Paimon agreed with him so that neither would need to speak more. "Most times, I just don't."

"You don't have to talk about this place if you don't want to," Tyri mentioned. "Home can be a difficult place to stay."

"It's fine, it's fine," Paimon replied. "Travel enough, and your home feels brand new."

Tyri smiled. "I suppose that's true as well."

"You two both travelled around before this, right?" Railyn asked. "What's even out there?"

"Well, to your left, you'll see the ocean," Paimon said, a bit tongue in cheek. "Bit of a feature there."

If Railyn got the joke, he was too excited to care. "How big is it? Do you know?"

"No one really knows," Tyri said, "and that's why they explore it. A lot of people do things just to know what's out there."

"And then they find some way to profit from it," Paimon added. "But it's a living, and a living's a life. Now that you're out of Yse, you'll get to explore it."

"I guess so." The possibilities seem to overwhelm Railyn. "I guess we'll have a lot to do after the prophecy."

"I suppose so." The conversation halted off a bit. Paimon barely knew what the prophecy held for them, let alone how they would end up afterward. But when they were so close to the edge of Synilas, they naturally wondered what would happen.

They were near the edge of Nua Port now, civilization only hanging by a thin bamboo pathway. They followed it to a house that appeared to be floating by its lonesome. From the layers of corrugated thatching on the roof, to the various steel reinforcements to the stone walls and windows, it looked like the house had been set upon by a swarm of builder mites.

"Don't worry," Paimon told Railyn and Tyri. "It always looked like this."

She walked up to the door, noticing the new flowers by the windowsill. Upon closer inspection, they were made of iron, painted a deep azure that purpled at the stem. She stood there for a while, buoyed by the waves' rhythm, trying to breathe easy. This was, after all, easier than escaping the Synua Guard. It was always so easy for Paimon to escape situations.

She looked back and Railyn and Tyri. As much as they needed answers, they weren't about to force her to do this. If they were, she'd have no trouble avoiding it. She supposed that was the trouble of it all -- whatever happened next wasn't a matter of survival. It was her own personal choice.

She knocked. She waited. A familiar sea breeze rushed over the salt of the harbor, pushing it up in a wave that washed over them. The iron flowers did not stir.

Paimon was in the middle of exhaling when the door opened, and a tall, bald, red-bearded man stepped out, raising a pair of goggles to his forehead, and looking around in confusion. In his left hand, he gripped a small staff, and in his right, he held a knife.

Paimon heard Tyri and Railyn take a step back. She presented the fish in front of her, as if for the man to gut right then and there.

"Hey, Dad," she said. "I brought you some fish."

The man blinked. He blinked again. He blinked a third time, and while understanding flashed through his eyes, his inscrutable expression did not change. "Well, come in then," he said matter-of-factly. "Let's get it in the icebox 'fore it rots."

Paimon nodded and stepped past him into the house. She'd hoped it'd seem smaller, now that she'd grown; it didn't. It was all too familiar: the staircase in the foyer leading up to her childhood room, the living room through a circular doorway to the left, a slew of her father's rune works hanging in frames on the wall. The runes were written on thin rice paper, artfully detailed with black brushstrokes.

Paimon walked down the hall to the kitchen and opened the icebox (still beneath the cupboard), stuffing the fish inside. On her way back, she stopped in front of the last rune frame. It was filled in completely black, from countless failed attempts to draw a working rune. She knew what this one was.

As Tyri and Railyn stepped into the house, Paimon's father grabbed their hands with a quick, tight handshake. "Azazel Fel, staffcrafter," he said. "Has our girl been troubling you?"

"Not at all," Tyri replied. Railyn was nearly swept off his feet by the handshake, and just shook his head.

"Very well then." Azazel gestured to the knife and staff in his hands. "Give me a second to put these away, and I'll join you shortly." He shuffled awkwardly down the hallway. As he passed Paimon, he rubbed her shoulder and smiled at her. "Good to have you home, Paimy." He continued down, took a left at the kitchen and vanished.

Paimon sighed. Her dad had always been a bit too relaxed about things. "Shoes go there," she said, pointing a small box out to her companions. "Let's wait in the living room."

They sat on wicker chairs with small, coffee-stained cushions, in front of a coffee table of scorched alder. Azazel came down a few minutes later, looking somewhat cleaner, his goggles still perched on his head. He sat down on a couch across from them and leaned forward. "So, which one of you needs one?" When they looked confused, he added, "A staff. I assume it's not for Paimon."

Paimon winced. Tyri waved her hands around. "I'm actually quite fine with this one," she said. She half-turned to Paimon, as if she was trying to read her emotions through her life force.

"I'm sure I could get you to consider an upgrade," Azazel said without a hint of pride. "The selection hanging in the hall is the one I've mastered. Kenaz is the most popular, but I recommend Nauthiz. What's your branch of magic?"

"Dad." Paimon tried to power through her father's confused blinking. "Her name is Tyri. That's Railyn. We were wondering if you could tell us a few things about Nua Port recently."

Azazel smiled easily. "Of course, of course. I was only offering because staffcraft is how I interact with most of the town anyway." He sat back and relaxed, staring past them out the window. "I get orders all the time, from customers near and far. When Paimy was little, she'd steal the staffs to try casting spells. She'd go all, 'Phanny!' and wave them all around." He chuckled. "One time, she even broke a window."

Paimon felt her cheeks grow hot. "Yeah, but I gave that up a while ago. Thought I'd leave it to you, old man."

Azazel chuckled a bit. "Well, I suppose I have wasted my life away on it. If you have any magical questions at all, I can answer them."

He pointed at Railyn's arms. "For instance, those runic tattoos. I think I see some power storing runes, as well as destruction? That's quite a daring work of art."

Without warning, he lifted up his own shirt, letting his gut spill out. "But of course, where are my manners. Here's mine." His prominent belly showed a cavalcade of runes inked onto his skin, forming an arch over his belly button.

"Dad!" Paimon protested, turning beet red.

"Hm?" Azazel turned to her; his belly jiggled. "It's common practice for runecarvers to show off their runes. I can explain each one if you want."

"That's, um, fine." Railyn looked away politely as Azazel put his shirt back down. "Rather, I was wondering if you knew about any magic that was...orange?"

"Orange, hm?" Azazel leaned his chin on his hand, his back in his seat. "That sounds strange."

"Well, it makes you super strong, super fast probably, um, probably raises your pain tolerance," Railyn rambled, looking uncomfortable. Paimon and Tyri watched him carefully. "It also makes you black out?"

"There are many types of magic that confer those attributes," Azazel mused, "at least, seperately. And the orange, of course, well that confounds it all. Why do you ask?"

Railyn shrugged and looked away. "I...I just wanted to know."

Azazel closed his eyes. "Hm. Well now I want to know. I will study this orange a little while longer. Thank you, young man, for bringing me this conundrum."

He turned to Tyri. "Are you sure you don't want a new staff? There'd be a discount, I promise, and the spellcasting quality I can guarantee."

"This staff works well for my spellcasting," Tyri replied, "and I don't think Primal Sense can be done with artifacts."

Azazel perked up. "You use Primal Sense?"

Paimon tensed. Tyri was slow to respond. "Yes, I do. Does that come up in your work?"

"No, no, but." Azazel rummaged in his pockets and pulled out an end piece of bread. He leaned forward onto the coffee table and offered it up. "Could you show me?"

"I suppose so." Tyri glanced at Paimon's aura. "What would you like me to do?"

"Float this bread! Here -- here." Azazel pressed the bread into Tyri's hand and then moved back, as if to take in the spectacle.

Paimon grimaced, although she knew that Tyri couldn't see. Tentatively, the blind mage spread her fingers, so that the bread rested in her palm. Paimon knew what was supposed to happen next - the sensation of the River flowing into the body, tendrils of magic mirroring the arteries, pumping a fusion of the self and the River into the air, into the object. But now, she saw it happen, as Tyri exhaled, and the piece of bread floated an inch into the air, as still as though frozen in time.

Azazel pressed his hands together and grinned. "Remarkable. Absolutely remarkable, Miss Tyri. Don't you think so, Paimy?"

Paimon dug her nails into her thighs. "Yeah. It's pretty remarkable, let me say. It's helped us out a fair few times."

Azazel wasn't listening. "Remarkable. You know, Paimon's brother used to study Primal Sense. He'd practice all the livelong day, just to do things like this."

There was something rising in Paimon, and her voice was just the start. "Dad-"

Azazel smiled wide. "You two would have loved Seir."

"Dad!"

Tyri flinched; the piece of bread fell to the floor at Paimon's feet. Paimon had stood up, and was now staring down at her father, outrage billowing like acid fumes. She blinked hard, reining back tears.

Paimon grabbed her father's arm and lifted him from the couch, dragging him, bewildered, into the kitchen. Her father was looking at her thoughtfully -- no, he was studying her expression. He was trying to figure out what she was thinking.

He didn't need to think so hard; Paimon would tell him. "How can you just mention Seir like that?"

"It was relevant to the conversation," Azazel replied. "Personally, I think Miss Tyri would have enjoyed Seir's company immensely."

"But that's impossible," Paimon protested, her voice breaking up. "It's not going to happen."

Azazel shrugged. "Maybe not, but it's how I feel."

Paimon stood there, feeling numbness trickle from her eyes to her toes. She didn't say a word, and after a while, Azazel reached around his daughter, holding her to his warm chest. "It was twelve years ago, Paimon," he said, his voice calm and cold. "The past teaches us, but it does not define us."

Paimon screwed her eyes shut and tightened her throat, turning a sob to a hiss. "Does Mom feel the same way?"

Azazel held her at arm's length and looked into her eyes. "I choose not to blame you. I choose to move on and think of Seir joyfully. Am I wrong to do this?"

His voice was a stone, a smooth river stone that could not break, no matter the rush of Paimon's emotions. Or maybe he had been worn down to this, so smooth and collected that all Paimon could do was wash over him, and flow on and on without stopping.

Paimon looked around. Her house really did look smaller, but not because she'd grown; every part of it looked farther away.

Azazel nodded towards the living room. "We shouldn't keep our guests waiting. Besides, didn't you have something important to ask?"

He was right. Paimon's gut twisted into seven knots. She couldn't hold up the mission any longer. Already, she'd let her father ramble on, hoping to see what he would do, instead of asking for what they needed directly. She'd pretended to be avoiding her past while in reality she was mired in it. Azazel had already forgiven her. Why was she still there?

Silently, she followed her father back to the living room. Railyn seemed startled by their entrance, and sat back in his chair. As she sat down, Paimon was alarmed to see Ivern scrambling around beneath the table, gnawing at the piece of bread.

"I apologize wholeheartedly," Azazel said, bowing his head to Railyn and Tyri. "Now, I believe I neglected the question that first brought you to my home."

"Right, it's okay," Tyri said, turning towards Paimon nervously.

"Have you sold anything to the Synilas Royal Guard recently?" Paimon asked. Her bluntness reinforced the businesslike mood that had arisen.

Azazel rubbed his chin. "Not officially, no. However, I did get an order for some Hagalaz staffs -- standard military issue -- a week or so ago. I delivered them two nights ago, but it was to the bunker near the western beach."

Paimon snapped to attention. "There's a bunker?"

Azazel nodded. "It was built a few years after you left home. Activity has been quiet from there, until now. I supposed they contracted me because they figured I had no one to tell." He smiled thinly.

"Anyway, the bunker is past the fish market and to the left, you'll take that road past Irma the harpist's old place. She died last year, by the way," he added, glancing to Paimon. "Heart failure."

"Sorry to hear that," Paimon said sincerely.

"Without her, that area is pretty deserted, so the bunker should be easy to spot. They're not too keen on visitors, but I'm sure you'll at least get to their front door." He pulled out another end piece of bread, munching on it absentmindedly. "Think that's all."

Paimon and Railyn exchanged looks. "So, you're not going to ask why we're going?" asked Paimon.

Azazel shrugged. "No need. You're a smart girl, Paimon. Do what you will."

Do what you will. The words started ringing in the hollow of Paimon's mind. Her eyes began to go out of focus. Just like that? Could he really explain away her doubts like they had never happened, just like that?

"One more thing," Tyri asked. "Do you know anything about an important arrival in the main port?"

"Some foreign royal," Azazel replied. "There's an official here to escort them to Synua, someone from the house of something. I assumed that was what the guard was for, but what do I know? My wife could tell you more. People talk to their doctors more than their staffcrafters."

"Your wife's a doctor?"

"Town infirmary. She'll know everything I don't." Azazel swallowed his bread piece. Under the table, Ivern did the same.

"Wait, about the staffs," Railyn began, looking down at Ivern.

"Yes?"

"Could I get one?" Railyn asked. "But for, um, holding things."

Azazel eyed him warily for a second, and Railyn shrunk beneath his cold gaze. Then the old man shrugged, and smiled. "Of course. I'll grab one that'll help you out in your travels." He got up from the couch and ambled toward the back of the house.

"Are you sure?" Paimon asked when he was gone. "Knowing him, he's probably gonna tack some weird magic combo onto it."

"That's alright," Railyn said as Ivern popped up onto the chair and into his lap.

"This one's on the house," Azazel called, returning through the kitchen with a long wooden staff with gnarled tendrils at the top. Paimon had seen ones like this; the tendrils were springy enough to hold a lantern or other magical power source. "What would you need to carry with this staff exactly?" His question died down as he stepped back into the living room and saw Ivern, padding around on Railyn's lap.

"Oh, a dragon," he said, nonplussed as ever. "Quite remarkable."

Image


"Does your dad do a lot of staffcrafting?" Tyri asked Paimon once they were back on the street. Railyn was still wobbling around, trying to get his bearings.

"Eh, he's more like a researcher nowadays." Paimon laced her fingers behind her head. "He made enough money making regular staffs that now he just makes whatever the heck he wants."

"Oh, good for him," Tyri said, offering a small smile. "It was nice of him to give us one for free."

"Yeah." Paimon looked over at Railyn, who was trying to balance Ivern on the head of his staff. Ivern was gripping the basket of the staff with his front claws, his body hanging every which way, which only contributed to Railyn's unsteadiness.

After they'd gotten the staff, they'd left the Fel household, but not before Azazel had pulled Paimon in for another hug. "Good luck, Paimon," he'd said, but of course there was no way he could know what Paimon had gotten herself into. Then, had he just wanted her to let go of Seir? She shook her head again. She'd absorbed the hug and walked out with Tyri and Railyn, not even trying to think about it until they were a good distance away. Now they were back by the fish market, and the smell more than anything kept her sufficiently distracted.

Railyn eventually stabilized Ivern on his staff, and began walking next to them. "So, are we going there right away?"

"We might want to get Belxibis and Elidyr there, just for safety," Tyri suggested.

Paimon winced, remembering the bluecough's pulse strangling Elidyr in the pit. "We shouldn't put them in any more danger," she said forcefully.

"I promised Bel we'd figure it out," Railyn added. "I need to be able to tell him what happened."

Tyri nodded, matching their grave expressions. "Then let's get going."

Far off on the water, the sun was starting to set. The three of them made their way down the more rickety sections of the district; one of the roads flooded as they stepped across, and Tyri nearly slipped into the drink. In the end, they stuck close to one another and moved as one. Paimon found the feeling odd, but comforting.

As they passed Irma the harpist's old house, Paimon felt her heart sink. On the light wooden porch she could see Seir, dancing with his hands in hers to the strum of the harp. They could play that way for hours before going home, where Paimon was Paimon and Seir was their parent's dream.

"There it is," Railyn said, his finger pointing sharply at an oblong shape in the distance.

The compound's outer shell was shaped like a river stone, so that if a storm hit, it would wash right over and leave the structure intact. The oblong structure stood ominously on the shore, a sculpting of dark, durable metal. The roads leading to it were less than stable, seemingly deliberately so. It felt as though the whole area had a finger pressed to its lips, silent as the waters now licking at the shore. Around the area were various tents, an encampment of soldiers ready to move at any given time.

"I can pick out a few guards from here," Paimon said. "Wonder if we can make our way around the back."

"If we're just here for information, we should try to avoid leaving any trace," Tyri pointed out. "Is that possible?"

"Hard to say," Paimon said. "We're gonna have to wait for an opening. On shore, the base of that hill, we can hide in the bushes."

The three of them scampered into place, hiding beneath the long shadows cast by the sun and sea. As the night came, their eyes adjusted to the darkness, and they slowly watched the veiled torches of the guards come alight, an ominous, orange glow beneath the not-yet-full moon.

The silence wore on all of them, amplifying the noise of the waves, making every splash of droplets on the rocks sound like the running of soldiers, ready to stab them where they lay.

Eventually, Railyn spoke. "Your dad seems nice."

It was a random statement, but Paimon was slightly relieved to hear his voice. "Oh yeah, he's the best. My mom too."

It was a beat of silence and Tyri who spoke next. "What do you think we'll find in there?"

"The truth," Railyn declared. "That'll be enough."

He looked between both of them. "I don't want to believe that Bel is a murderer, but if it's true, I can't avoid it either."

"Yeah," Paimon said. "Well, facing the truth might not be the most convenient thing in the world." There was a hitch in her voice that she hoped no one noticed at their low volume.

She kept talking. On the branch next to her, the sphere was growing out of the wood, weighing it down like a heart. "I mean, if we found out that Bel did kill those people, we'd still need to bring him along for the prophecy. It doesn't matter if it's all in the past, right? As long as you do something."

"Are you ok?" Tyri's hand was on her shoulder.

"I'm fine," Paimon said, then realized she was speaking at normal volume. "I'm okay," she whispered, "just nervous about busting into a compound of armed soldiers and mages."

"Hey, I think they're starting to move," Railyn said, peering over the top. "We can get in closer."

"Alright, Railyn, you move first," Paimon said. "Keep low and head for those rocks."

Railyn nodded, and he scooped Ivern from the ground, placing him in the basket of his staff. He then dashed off, his limbs carrying him long and low until he reached the stone outcropping that separated the land from the beach. He jumped between the jutting boulders and vanished to the eye.

"Are you moving next?" Tyri asked, but Paimon was barely listening, drawing in a deep breath. Maybe it was best to be blunt and simple about things, smooth as a river stone. She looked at the wooden rune sphere, and left it hanging there in the bush.

"I'll move with you and help you run," Paimon said, grabbing Tyri's arm. "When I was twelve, I killed my little brother on accident."

Tyri blinked. "What?" But Paimon was already dragging her out of the bush and full pelt across the field.

Running through the night, unseen by the present and past, Paimon felt elation sweep over her. Her body jolted forward in tandem with Tyri's, as if they'd been sprung loose and were spiraling, free to do as they would.

Paimon reached the boulder and slid down, guiding Tyri to sit. Tyri's mouth still hung open, whether from exertion or shock. She eventually started to form words. "What--"

"Whatever it is, we can talk about it later," Paimon said, as if she hadn't been the one to bring it up. In a way, she felt even lighter from avoiding it than she did confessing. "The guards haven't come back yet. It's time to enter illegally and exit undetectably."

They ran up to the door at the back of the oblong slab. Paimon kept watch while Tyri guarded the flames from Ivern's mouth that melted the lock from the door. Railyn poked it open with his staff and slipped through, the others following behind.

These barracks were small, with tight-cornered hallways that looked like they stretched around the entire area. The three of them moved in silence, but now Paimon was grateful for it. When she was doing something important, she could never feel more alive. Tyri halted them from time to time, sensing ahead before leading them on.

Eventually, the hallways opened up into a long central courtyard. The bunker's metal shell had been opened, letting in starlight from above, with a makeshift watchtower nearby. Some extra tents had been set out here, including a large white one that towered over the others. That would all have been on Paimon's mind, had she not smelled the area five meters before seeing it. The whole place reeked of blood.

"That white tent with the lights on," Railyn pointed out. "Is it an infirmary?"

"It looks like it," Paimon said. "Here, let's try to get close."

There was no motion from the watchtower as they stole along the wall, edging closer and closer. The lights were on in the tent, but oddly, there was no movement from inside. Through the shadows cast against the wall, Paimon could see bodies on beds: still, unmoving.

Railyn walked up to the tent flap, about to pull it open. Paimon grabbed his hand, staying him for a second. Looking at him, she pulled up her cloak to cover her mouth and nose, and poked her head through the flap.

The smell had never been this bad in Syna. Maybe because there, it hadn't been allowed to fester. Here, the bodies looked like they'd been lying for days, weeks, dead the whole time of the bluecough ravaging them. Paimon saw rows of beds, sheets drawn crudely over the corpses. They were dressed in both citizen and military clothes, for all citizens of Nua Port had been brought here to waste away and perish.

Paimon pulled her head out of the tent, inhaling fresh air. She looked gravely at Tyri as she walked up; of course, Tyri would already know the truth. "Is anyone alive?" Paimon asked.

Tyri just shook her head. "No. I haven't seen new life forces since we entered, actually. It's odd."

"Well, what's the range on your power?"

"I really can't say," Tyri said, looking a bit frustrated. "We're all new to this."

"Then we have to keep moving," Paimon said. "You've still got the outside guards?"

"Faintly," Tyri replied. "We should be clear."

"That's good," Paimon replied, seeing the courtyard more clearly now that her pulse had slowed, "because it looks like a wild animal tore through here."

The marks had become more apparent as the moon moved out from behind the clouds. It shone down on rubble blasted everywhich way, the courtyard torn in a maelstrom of chaos.

"Whoa." Railyn looked down at the claw marks stretching for meters at a time down the walls and on the floor. "I know these."

Paimon flew to the wall of the courtyard, pressing up against it and feeling the grooves in the wall. They were wild and perhaps a little hard to make out -- but they could be Bel's. They had to be Bel's.

Paimon hadn't wanted to admit it, but seeing the bodies in the infirmary, the bodies piled outside the cave, had worn on her. She had buried those bodies with Railyn, shoving them into shallow graves and holding her nose as they'd filled them in. The night after they'd done it, she had dreamed she was carrying the bodies from the cave again, placing them in the graves. But this time, it was Tristram staring up at her from the pit, singing as Paimon pushed dirt on top of him.

Paimon squeezed her eyes hard and chased away the memory. It was nice to have a purpose, something so important that it could obliterate the past. It was a freeing thing, to be doing something.

"Do you see this, Railyn?" Paimon asked, feeling the marks. "Bel must have come here. If he doesn't remember that, then there should be more that he doesn't know. It's not conclusive, but there's hope!" But as her sentence had gone on and on, she'd become more aware of the utter silence behind her. It was utter, empty silence, giving way to only darkness.

And the darkness was not empty enough, as a steel wire descended and tightened around Paimon's neck.
Last edited by Chaser on Wed Sep 02, 2020 4:54 am, edited 1 time in total.
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73 Days B.N.D


When Eli woke, he was alone in the room with Tabby and Lady. He rolled over with a groan and squinted into the shadowy room. Lady sat up from where she was curled up with Tabby on Bel's bunk, peering at him with a titled head.

Father? You alright?

Gods, he was so sweaty--he must've had a bad dream--and he stank, probably just as badly as Bel did. They'd never had the chance to rest since the cave--and gods, that was a mess, wasn't it?--nor had they bathed after returning to the inn from the infirmary, too tired to even bother. He remembered tumbling into his cot with a grimace and then...nothing... Until Bel awoke in the middle of the night, presumably from a nightmate of his own. He vaguely remembered talking to him, and then...

"Damnit!" he hissed, thumping a fist down on the bed. Bel had said he'd seen her, probably during his missing time.

Father!

"What?" he snapped, a little harshly. Lady hissed at him, so he took a deep breath and softened his tone. "I'm sorry, Lady. What's wrong?"

Bel snuck out after your talk last night.

Eli gave her a flat look, then gestured to the room. "I can see that, Lady," he said and got up, stretching carefully. He felt a lot better than he had yesterday, a lot less tired and achy. "Where are Tyri, Paimon and Railyn?"

Lady shrugged, hopping off the other cot to twine around his ankles. No idea, Father. They didn't come back last night.

He stared down at her in surprise, mid-stretch. "They what?"

She hopped up onto the tiny table in the room and sat down, tail flicking. It was just you and the big blue one last night.

Elidyr frowned and moved to dig through his bag, taking the vial in his pocket from the infirmary yesterday and tucking it away with the other vials. He sighed and pulled out a few more things, checked through them and then tucked them away again.

"Lady, you don't happen to know where Bel went, do you?" he asked, picking up his staff and turning to look at her where she sat on the table. She cocked her head at him, wings flaring and tail flicking. His gaze narrowed. "Lady?"

She shrugged. I have no idea, Father. Perhaps you could ask downstairs?

He glanced away, grip tightening on his staff. Eli quickly checked that his dagger was there, then went ahead and swapped his healer's robes with some spare ones that Railyn or Tyri, or probably Paimon, had in their packs. These were a darker colour, more reddish-black than his very glaring white and blue. He pulled his dark grey cloak over top of it all, patting his hip to make sure the dagger was still there, then turned to head downstairs, tucking his cloak over the blade.

"Lady," he said, glancing towards her and then to Tabby. "I think you should probably stay here, you know, keep Tabby safe?"

I'm not letting you go alone, Father.

"Lady," Eli said sternly, but she huffed and flapped her wings, hissing at him. "Lady, please."

Fine, she muttered and turned her back on him, tail flicking wildly.

Elidyr sighed heavily and headed out the door. He knew she'd probably follow him, but he could at least make a pretense at keepnig her safe, even if she'd ignore him anyway.

Image


A few hours later, Eli ducked behind a crate and peered over the top, eyes narrowed. The rumours had led him out of Nua, because of course they had. Bel had left him a trail right to the damn military base. Stupid bloody tiefling...

"Damnit," he muttered, and then glanced down when he heard the soft pad of little feet on dirty cobblestones. Lady came to a stop beside him and sat down, tilting her head to peer up at him. He sighed. "Lady, I told you to stay behind."

She sniffed delicately. I wasn't going to let you go off by yourself, Father. That's a stupid thing to do. Lady swiftly hopped up onto his shoulder and got comfortable. Besides, Tabby is safe. The inn keeper is watching him.

"Thanks," Eli murmured, tugging the hood up over his head, Lady curling up beneath the hood. "Now I just need to get in..."

He was glad it was dark--that made things easier. He may be a healer, but he was also an ex-soldier. They could do this... Eli just needed to watch the guards for a little bit. He scratched Lady's chin and settled in behind the crate to watch, silent and wary.

An hour later, he had his way in.

It was practially child's play. And definitely way too easy to dodge the patrols and the stationary guards, and even the lookouts up in the tower. He was in and hiding behind a barrel before anyone noticed a thing. Eli peered around the barrel and signalled for Lady to go scout for the others, because he had no doubt that if Bel was here then Railyn, Paimon and Tyri were as well. Lady nodded and hopped off his shoulder, disappearing into the shadows.

Something was nagging at him, though. There was a...severe lack of soldiers in the interior courtyard. He squinted at the surrounding buildings and tents, then edged out from behind the barrell. Where were all the soldiers?

Cautiously, he headed towards the biggest building, sending the tent nearby a frown before he froze as the clanking of plate armor rang out, coming closer. Shit! That had to be a patrol! He turned and ducked into the nearest tent, found it empty and waited while the patrol passed. Where the hell was Bel and the others?

Once the patrol passed, he ducked out from behind the crate he'd hidden behind and out of the tent just as Lady glided down onto his shoulder.

I found them! They're in the main building, but there was a lady there...very scary!

"Let me guess, silver hair, blades for legs?" Eli asked, holding Lady steady as he jogged back towards the biggest building.

One red eye, one blue?

He glanced up and froze at the sight of half a dozen soliders pouring out of the main building. Eli swore and turned to run, dodging another soldier and then sliding under a blade swung at his head. He hopped back to his feet and whirled out of range. He started running again only to spot the very nightmare he'd hoped he wouldn't see again.

"Mythica," Eli gasped, hood falling back as he slid to a stop a few feet away. Lady hissed, back arching.

Mythica Idora grinned and took a stop closer, causally drawing her weapon. "Well, well, well," Mythica purred, smirking slightly. "Elidyr Adonis. Never thought I'd see you again, especially in Synalis."

He swallowed thickly and backed up a step, never taking his gaze off her. She raised her hand and the soldiers behind him backed off, giving them room to circle each other. Mythica had captured him once, after a battle near the border, and she had not been kind. He'd rather not have to experience her lovely hospitality again.

"Yeah, well," he said, trying for casual, but the way his voice shook betrayed him. "You know how it is when you're basically disowned in every way but name... Travel the world, go exploring, get caught up in shit you don't really want to get caught up in."

Father--

Mythica raised an eyebrow and glanced towards his shoulder. Lady was all ruffled up, fur on end and hissing. "Fascinating company you keep, little Adonis."

"Shut up," Eli hissed, taking another step in their very slow circle around each other, eyes darting down to her blade legs and then back up. He was aware of at least a dozen soldiers encircling them, not one foot out of line. "I never did anything to you! You just decided to torture me because it was easier to snatch me than my superior officer!"

She shrugged. "True," she admitted, amused, "but it was also because you're an Adonis. You know how it is, centuries old blood fueds aside. It was just business."

"You whipped me until I was unconscious!"

Another shrug. "Like I said, just buiness."

"Bullshit," Eli growled and charged forward, spinning his staff to bring it down over his head. Mythica blocked and he quickly released one end of the staff to draw his dagger, lashing out. She laughed and forced the staff down, twisting slightly. It forced Eli to drop the blade or risk losing both. He grabbed his staff again, pushing back. Mythica kicked the blade away. "You're a monster!"

"How sweet of you to notice!"

Suddenly, there was a knee in his gut, winding him. Eli's grip on his staff loosened and in a swift motion, Mythica sent it clattering across the ground and then him sprawling, gasping for breath. She came to stand over him, one blade leg or either side of his head. He stared up at her, watching as she smirked down at him.

"Y-you...."

"Yes, yes, I'm a monster, blah, blah, blah." She chuckled. "Heard it all before." Mythica seemed to consider him thoughtfully for a moment, head tilted as she watched him squirm. "I think, my dear little Adonis, that I'm going to enjoy this."

He clutched his gut, gasping and sent her a glare. "S-Screw you."

Mythica snorted at that. "No thanks." She nudged him and stepped away, heedless of the fact that her blade-leg had cut into his shoulder. "Come on, get up."

Eli groaned and rolling onto his knees, still gasping for breath. Gods, but he hated being winded. After a moment, he shakily climbed to his feet, fighting back a shiver as Mythica's staff turned into a whip with a quick flick of her wrist.

"Fine," he ground out, clutching his bleeding shoulder. "What do you want?"

Mythica chuckled at that. "I wanted a fight! I thought the little Adonis boy would have learned something since last we met, but it seems like you're just as frail and afraid."

Eli glared at her. He wasn't frail, and he certainly wasn't afraid! Alright, maybe that last part was a lie. He straightened up, finally able to breathe through the dull pain in his gut, and glanced about for his dagger and staff. He spotted the dagger in one of the soldier's belts and sighed. Typical. Staff...staff.... There! It was laying on the ground a few feet away, near Mythica. As he watched, she picked it up and seemed to consider it for a moment before tossing it back to him. He scrambled to catch it, scowling when she winked.

"I am not frail," Eli grumbled, falling into a defense stance. "Nor am I afraid."

"So you're weak and stupid, then," Mythica corrected herself. "Suit yourself. Either way, it was a foolish idea to try and attack me today of all days."

He hesitated, trying to push past the blind hate and terror consuming him. It took a moment. "I wasn't trying...to attack you, Mythica."

"You're just as bad a liar as you are an assassin, little Adonis." She flashed the whip, cracking in the night air. Eli flinched. "I'm tiring of your constant chatter. More fighting, less whining."

He shrugged the cloak off, tossing it aside and resumed his defense stance, watching her warily. "Fine," Eli ground out. "More fighting it is."

With that, he started circling her again, one eye on Mythica and the other on the whip. He remembered the bite of that whip very well and would rather avoid it. Some wishes weren't meant to be, though. Eli knew he'd be tasting it before the night was out, probably more than once.

"What are you waiting for, little boy?" Mytihca asked, smirking at him. Moonlight glinted off her silver hair and the whip. "An engraved invitation?"

"Shut up!" he hissed and darted forward, spinning the staff and then bringing it down towards where her feet should be. She dodged back a few steps, laughing. "Just shut up!"

"You've slowed over the years! You think you could keep up with an old gal like me."

The whip came flying at his head and he ducked under it with a grunt. "Shut up, you crazy bitch!"

The soldiers encircled them like an arena, and they inched closer at his insult. Mythica held out a hand, and they relented. Something boomed in the sky, and light flashed overhead, lighting up their battlefield. "Looks like a storm's rolling in," Mythica said as the two danced around each other in slow motion. "Would've been the perfect cover for an assassination."

"How many times do I have say it? I'm not here to assissinate you!" Eli shouted, spinning out of range and coming to a stop right near the soldiers. One of them shoved him forwards and Eli stumbled to a stop, panting slightly. Shit, he was definitely not as well as he thought if he was strugglnig to catch his breath. "I didn't even know you were here, Mythica!"

Rain started pitter-pattering down. Mythica growled. "This really is starting to aggravate me!" She charged Elidyr, spin-kicking at him. He had only a moment to dodge the blow, but she kneed him, knocking him to the floor. "You say you had no idea of me being here, but four of your friends arriving just hours before you say different! Of course you didn't want to attack me firsthand, but when I captured your accomplices, what else could you do?"

Eli gasped for breath, staring up at her. She'd winded him again and gods, it hurt. Realisation dawned and he gasped out a startled, "W-What?"

Mythica kicked his staff out of his hands. It went clattering across the ground until a soldier put a foot on it, stopping it. "If you're not going to tell me your plans," she hissed out, digging one of her legs into his shoulder and making him cry out, "then I'm going to force it out you." She bent down, just inches from his face. "One bone at a time." She stepped away and snapped her fingers. The soldiers closed in, picking him up deflty, bending his arms behind him. "The Adonis Family is going to regret letting you stomp around Synilas with no supervision while still carrying all of their secrets."

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72 Days B.N.D.


Pain. There was so much pain. Eli was sure one of his eyes was all bruised and swollen; he couldn't see out of it. And still, there was so much pain he was starting to feel numb. He barely registered being dragged into another...place... He couldn't tell, his vision was blurry and potentially double. Possible concussion, his healer's mind told him, and he groaned.

He was dropped to the ground and curled up on his side, protecting his tender stomach. Every time he'd refused to answer or sassed her back, someone kneed or punched him in the gut. He was sure it was bruised to hell and back, and that at least two of his ribs were broken. It made it difficult to breathe. Distantly, he was aware of Mythica speaking, but he couldn't focus past all the damn pain.

Distantly, Eli was aware that he'd told Mythica about things he probably shouldn't have, Adonis secrets that weren't his to give away, but he didn't care. He'd had to get the pain to stop. But his answers to being at the compound was always the same; he didn't know Mythica was there, he was looking for his freinds and it definitely wasn't because he was there to assassinate her. He hoped she got the message, but gods, she was brutal. It was worse than last time...

"Eli!"

He groaned and opened his not-black eye, squinting to try and focus. Eight blurry figures swam into focus, squirming down to four and back to eight. Eli coughed and closed his eye, curling up even more. The voice was familar, but he couldn't place it right now. Everything was scattered, his mind slightly fractured like a rainbow filtered through faceted glass.

Mythica laughed. "Eli? How quaint." Someone nudged him again, probably Mythica considering the sharp pain that accompanied it. He barely reacted to it, too distracted by the pain dancing like fire across his back. "Shall we get straight to the fun part?"

Eli heard Mythica's familiar snaps, and his body protested with sharp pain as two people lifted him up. His head lilted down, and he saw blood and bare skin. His arms were slotted into something cold and hard, and it clamped down. Eli groaned against the pressure. But, at least he could feel them still. Mythica had not focused on his arms with her painful persuasion.

He tried to focus his vision on the four-eight-four figures in the background, but something got in the way. Mythica. She lifted his face, grip tight on his chin. Her hand was also cold, like the metal on his arms. "It was quite a shock when I realized you, of all people, had contracted bluecough." She let his head go and walked to the side. "I have to be honest, Eli-my-dear, I have always been envious of your family's... natural affinity for magic. But, your ability is something else entirely. The ability to give life? And to take? Who wouldn't want that?"

"T-That's...not..." He couldn't finish the sentence, struggling to breathe past the crushing pain in his ribs. Eli panted, trying to focus on the way Mythica was pacing in front of him. "N-Not..."

"Not true?" she asked, smirking at him. He saw it in triplicate. "That's a lie and we both know it." She picked up some kind of instrument, and she faded out of view, walking closer to the figures behind her. "These people seem more like your... companions than hired hands. I don't think they would be too happy to know that the only thing keeping them here... is you."

She turned back to Elidyr, the clinking of her weapons-for-legs pounding in his head, ringing in his ears like a blacksmith's hammer. "I wonder how they would feel watching you bleed." Her figure got so close it was the only thing in his vision, and he could feel her hot breath on his face. "Especially that blue brute. He looks like he has a temper."

"S-Shut....up...." It took a lot for him to get that out and left him gasping for breath, swaying slightly in whatever held him up. Mythica's eyes changed colors from red to blue to orange and back to red. Eli shut his eyes. "Just...just...s-shut....u-up...."

"That's fine. I was never one for small talk." She shoved the instrument in her hand into Eli's guts. Eli screamed, head flying up as pain and fire tore through him. He'd be pushing her away if his arms weren't restrained. He hadn't that one--it always hurt the worst. Eli's screams were met with some kind of roar, and he heard Mythica say "Let him loose!" and Elidyr thought the pain would finally be over. Maybe she would turn her attention to one of the others.

Eli felt Mythica retract her instrument from his stomach and she faded from his vision. He struggled to keep his good eye open, and he could vaguely make out a figure bathed in orange.

Bel.

Mythica shouted, "who will break first?" and suddenly, Elidyr was let free, and he fell to the ground. But his actions weren't his own, he could feel his arms moving but he didn't have the energy to move anything by himself. Suddenly, everything was clear, but it was as if he was outside of himself, viewing him from behind, and he could see himself standing up shakily, and spreading out his hand.

He had no control here.

Eli hoped Bel and the others knew that as he stumbled forwards a step, towards Bel. But Bel was orange and he wasn't sure if Bel understood or even cared about anything at the moment. He hurt all over and moving made it worse, but his body was no longer his to move, and he could do nothing but watch it unfold. His body flared blue, then purple, and Bel's orange aura flared brighter, but Bel's movements slowed as if he strained against something. Eli could see the multiple carvings in his skin, the whiplashes across his back and the punctures on his stomach and chest beginning to warp close, the skin folding over themselves.

Bel took a step, shaking against the force, and Elidyr realized he was taking from Bel to give to himself. He was healing himself far too quickly than what was natural. And he hated it. He'd never done something like this before, not that he could remember anyway... What the hell had Mythica done to him? And then his attention drifted to Mythica, who was to the side with her hand outstretched, wearing a bronze glove filled with sapphire crystals. Every single one of them was lit up blue-purple.

Eli's eyes widened, but he knew his eyes were a bright, glowing blue-purple. He had to stop this, somehow. But he was so damn tired, so sore and drained... What could he do? How could he stop this? He had to fight her somehow, redirect her attention, his magic, anything to get this to stop.

That's when his attention fell on Bel again.

What if he redirected it to Mythica?

Eli hoped it'd be enough, and yanked at his metaphysical chains, rattling them. His magic pulsed in time with the gems on Mythica's glove, and he groaned, stumbling again. Another yank and he felt the magic draining Bel tremble and then shift, ever so slightly before he lost control again.

He cried out sharply as it went straight for the next nearest person: Railyn.

His vision sharpened as he saw Railyn stumble back. Elidyr felt himself losing control again; he wanted to cry out for someone to stop him, to end it, to end him, to do something!

Railyn's forearms lit up crimson red, and everything went white.
"With friends like you, who needs a medical license?" - Paimon, Aether's Heart


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72 Days B.N.D.


The hot white flash of magic pouring through him and back out, like back at Yse, shuddered through him again, and as soon as he knew it, an insane blast cracked through the middle of the military bunker, splitting it wide like a plump pound of meat after a hard day's of work. Water sloshed and poured into the edges of the bunker, and the entire port rippled with a midday flash of what would've appeared as sunlight to the rest of the town. The entire bunker heaved and shuddered under the added strain of the bunker nearly splitting in two.

The group's restraints were burnt through with the immense blast --although, strangely, they were hurt personally-- and it took a moment for them to realize just what happened. Thankfully, they had realized a moment before the soldiers. Railyn spun around, his eyes set on searching for Ivern, his bonded dragon.

Tyri stumbled from the shift of balance, and nearly lost balance before Bel, whose eyes and aura were no longer orange, grabbed her, steadying her. Railyn glanced at the others. "We need to get to Eli!"

Tyri attempted to take a step forward, but wavered. Bel grabbed a broken wood support and handed it to Tyri, who embraced it with obvious relief. Railyn slid past a falling iron beam, and noticed Paimon who was climbing onto a tilted ledge. She took a glance at him. "Find your dragon. I'll provide... support, cover, something."

Railyn nodded and left her to her own devices. The soldiers, under their heavy metal armor, were still struggling to re-adjust themselves. Railyn jumped over one soldier, using their helmet as leverage, as he positioned himself closer to the torturous scene that the knife leg lady set up with Elidyr. He knew Ivern --and Lady-- were around there somewhere, in a swinging cage.

A platform swinging from a half-broken wooden support flung in front of Railyn's view as multiple soldiers formed a haphazard line in between him and Elidyr, which was where he assumed Ivern was. He jumped and barely made the platform, his hands scrambling for something to hold onto. The platform swiveled, tilting Railyn to a dangerously close distance to the soldiers. One brave soldier stepped forward and swung their sword wildly at Railyn's feet. Railyn managed to use the soldier as leverage, stepping on their helmet and clambering onto the platform. His balance wavered but he widened his stance. The wooden support frame splintered, emitting an immense crack, and the platform swung wide of the soldiers, in the direction of blade lady and hopefully Elidyr.

Railyn kept his body low and rode the platform, scanning the scene below. There was chaos, and he could see Bel and the others fighting below, but they weren't what he was searching for.

He felt more than he saw Ivern first, and then he saw a swinging cage with a particularly irate winged cat fluttering around in it. Railyn's balance broke as the platform's support finally cracked and the platform dropped onto another one, crashing into a watchtower. The mixed metal and wood crease sent explosive screeches into Railyn's ear. He closed his eyes and let his body roll down the tilted platform, brushing his hands across to slow his descent. He slammed against the crumbled watchtower, but it was just a window and he slipped through, thudding onto the floor. His (now opened) eyes widened as the ceiling above him buckled under the weight of the platform, and only a second later the platform speared into his floor, and he only had a moment to roll out of the way before the floor crumbled underneath him. He hit the wall and tumbled with the debris, as it smashed through another floor. The platform had all but shattered as it hit the last floor, piercing through it in multiple places. Railyn hit the bottom of the watchtower, forcing the air out of his lungs. But his experience within the mines forced him to continue to roll in one direction until he slammed against a wall. Water sloshed and blood pounded in his ears, and those were the only things that reminded him he was alive and he should, in fact, open his eyes to assess the situation.

The floor --or maybe it was the wall-- rocked gently by the impact and immediate collapse of the watchtower. Railyn could feel water sloshing against his hand, and he pulled it in to his stomach. He forced himself to open one eye and glanced around, looking for potential survivors from the watchtower, but all he could see was wood and metal and water.

The floor was splintered in the middle of the room, and water was gushing in. Railyn groaned, rolling over to his side, and the cool shock of water tingled his hip. He forced himself to suck in a breath against the shock. He blew it out softly and grabbed ahold of a wood plank and stood up. His right ankle felt weak and sensitive, and he avoided stepping on it fully. He limped over to the door, forcing it open with a shove of his shoulder, and the harshness of the Sun reminded him there was an outside world. But his vision focused immediately onto Ivern and the cage he and Lady were in. It was suspended not even two persons in front of him, swinging wildly from the impact of the watchtower. Railyn rushed over to the cage and caught it, stabilizing it. Lady was jumping around, fur raised and back curled, with only slits for eyes.

Ivern bumped against the cage nearest Railyn, whining. Railyn reached a hand through the bars and pet him. "It's okay, Ivern. It's ok--"

Suddenly his tattoos were set ablaze, and his vision flooded red. He felt something reach into him and invite him in. He didn't know what it meant, but the urge was irresistible.

He dove in.

He felt a swooshing motion first, not unlike being on the platform earlier, but it wasn't his body that experienced the motion; it was his mind, and he had never felt more free. It was as if he saw through his own eyes and he was watching himself, all at the same time. His body was weightless and lightless but it flared to life with a blaze of maroon and crimson, like blood if it was a flame. He twisted his body, and it flowed around a void of freedom, pushing nothingness out of his way as he filled everything with his magnificent being.

And he faced something enormous. It was a current, blindingly strong and white and yet nothing at all at the same time. It didn't flow; everything else flowed around it, warping the nothingness away from its commanding presence. It was like time and space itself abided by this... whatever it was. But, as much as it pushed nothing away, it attracted everything else with a lulling whisper that demanded obedience. And that everything included him. He had no choice but to answer that call, and he had no thought of anything else. It wanted him, so why couldn't he return the favor? He dove into the current, and let its flow take him along with it.

The first douse was nothing short of exhilarating, experiencing the the first flash of the Sun bathing him, but a thousand times more intense, as if the Sun was inside him, and he was the rays flowing into himself. The current carried him and he felt a lifetime's worth of sensations in every moment he was within its wake. He couldn't help but let out a laugh, but instead of sound it was flames. He suddenly felt like... like...

His train of thought vanished as quickly as it came, washed away by the intensity of the purity within the current. And suddenly it didn't matter anymore, as if the thought itself didn't matter anymore, and then it didn't, and he swam through the current, more elated than he had ever felt before. His life, his thoughts, why did any of it matter? Memories were nothing to the allure of the now, and the everlasting. He didn't need a body anymore, since it would one day shrivel up and wither away. This, this was neverending, and never beginning. There was no past or future when the only thing that mattered was the constant and consistent flow.

He was so bombarded by the new and unexisting that he barely felt the familiar prod the first or second time, but the third time, something instead of him recalled... something. He wasn't just living for himself; there was something else out there, another being that the current called out to. And that called to him.

Ivern.

The thought clashed against the flow of the current, and resonated within and around him, and he felt Ivern join him within the current. He was a beautiful winged beast of pure golden that was several times larger than normal, flowing and spiraling around Railyn, and suddenly Railyn remembered he was a person again, and his name was Railyn.

You have a connection with the River, now, Young Beloved. Ivern's voice, deep like a mineral scraper and coarse, but soothing like a pond lapping onto your body, washing away the grime of a rough day. Ivern coiled around Railyn's free-flowing essence, giving him shape and reason again.

Railyn smiled and attempted to speak, but once again fire blew out of his mouth. I'm just like you! His own voice radiated like a sound, but even more than sound.

You are more me and I am more you. Ivern's voice resonated through all of Railyn. The River connects us now, through life and essence. Ivern swirled around Railyn, tail clamping onto him. We cannot linger here, Young Beloved.

No, stay with me, Ivern. It's so wonderful here! We can experience it together.

It truly is joyous, but for everything the River gives, it so must take. Ivern's voice turned sullen, and he flung Railyn out of the current with a flick of his massive tail.

And just as his tattoos were alit, the energy from them vanished, and Railyn felt as if he had aged a year in a split moment, but nothing else had changed.

Young Beloved! You can hear me now! Ivern, now his usual green self, jumped up in joyous celebration, sending Lady into the air with him and she sent a hiss his way. There's something invading my ability to breathe fire. Can you open it from the outside?

Railyn adjusted himself to the hinge door. There was an iron bolt that self locked and was only able to be unlocked with a key, and Railyn definitely didn't have the time --or patience-- to look for the key. You can use the River's connection to burn through the lock, Young Beloved.

Railyn felt Ivern's presence join him in his mind, and a sudden flux of energy filled him, and the etchings on his forearms glowed once again. Upon instinct, or maybe it was Ivern guiding him, Railyn held onto the lock, and felt heat reach his palms. It wasn't an intense heat that burned or hurt, but it tingled like something was itching at his skin. The iron lock turned crimson from the pure heat of... whatever Railyn was doing. He let go and Ivern rammed against the cage door. The lock broke away easily, and the door swung open. Ivern flew into Railyn's arms, and suddenly Railyn just didn't have a care in the world anymore. Nothing else mattered to him except the cool but warm creature nestled in his arms.

Then he remembered why they were there, and what had happened earlier that day, and he moved Ivern to his shoulder. "We have to find Elidyr," he said, mostly to himself but Ivern chirped in affirmation.

The sulky one is just ahead! Ivern pointed with his nose. Railyn followed Ivern's direction, and sure enough he saw Elidyr's body crumpled on the deck in front of the torture device he was shackled in not that long ago. He was convulsing, but other than that he didn't look conscious whatsoever.

The opening of the cage --or maybe the crash of the watchtower, who knows really-- attracted multiple soldiers and they blockaded Railyn from getting any closer to Elidyr. They pulled out multiple arrays of weapons and formed a line of sharp pointy things that Railyn didn't want to get into close quarters with.

Ivern, we won't be able to take them out. I'm not a fighter.

Railyn backed up, looking for a route of escape.

I am not large enough to carry you yet.

Ivern's thought sent Railyn looking above the soldiers. We can use the air against them. Multiple streamers of the royal guard flew above buildings along Railyn's right, which were barely holding together against the damage done to the base. Railyn slid over to the right side as he backed away from the soldier's forward march. Are you thinking what I'm thinking, Ivern?

I can read all of your thoughts, Young Beloved.

Good enough.

Railyn launched Ivern off of his shoulder, and the emerald dragon roared to life, spreading his wings and sending a blast of fire against the guards. It radiated against their armor and they covered themselves against his barrage. Railyn took the brief moment of distraction and sprinted to the right buildings. He launched himself up and grabbed ahold of a railing. His grapple found hold and he swung from there a moment before mustering the strength to pull himself up onto a small ledge. A spear embedded itself into the wood just in front of his nose and he glanced down at the soldiers. They had already composed themselves from Ivern's attack and found his escape. Railyn inched forward and kicked the spear, breaking it.

Ivern spun around in the air to swing down for another fire run. A few of the soldiers brought shields up and his blast deflected off of them. It was just enough of a moment for Railyn to scoot down the railing to a balcony. He jumped over the edge and landed, but the building shifted under his added weight, little as it was. He ducked under an arrow and slid into the building. It seemed to be some kind of soldier housing area, with all of the beds aligned on each wall. Railyn scanned the walls for some kind of weapon, anything, that could help him down the road. His trusty pickaxe had been taken from him not long after he and Paimon had been captured. He finally saw a small sword and shield at the end of one bed that was rumpled from someone sleeping in it. It was, ironically, the only bed not perfectly clean and looking used. Railyn wondered what happened to the soldier to leave their bed and belongings in such a shape.

Railyn grabbed the weapons and rushed downstairs. How's it going out there? He asked Ivern.

They dodge my fire but it still annoys them. I would much rather be in there with you, though.

I'm on my way. We'll be together again soon.
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72 Days B.N.D.


How do you expect to fight them?

Railyn shrugged, both internally and out. We're bonded, stronger than ever now. Let's use that.

He slipped down a few stairs stopped himself just before water. It pooled out from something below, but the way was blocked now. Railyn had never been able to spend much time in water, especially if he couldn't stand on the bottom. Change of plans. Time to dip into the River. Railyn flexed his arms and laid them against the wall.

Be careful--

Instantly, Railyn felt the lure to dive into the River once again, but he only kept it on the edge of his mind. He dipped a metaphorical toe into the current and felt its invigorating essence suffocate all other emotions from his mind. He thought deeply of fire, of its life and heat, and imagined it extending through him.

His hands errupted in red flames that spread like hungering fingers across the wall. The wall stood strong against the heat, though, and it sputtered out from Railyn's frustration. And just like that, his connection in the River vanished. In place of that, he felt Ivern enter his mind once again.

The River can procure almost anything you need, but it needs to be guided. Without guidance, it endlessly takes.

Railyn groaned. His shoulders slumped. I don't know if I can manage another trip into the River.

Let me guide you. Ivern's presence flooded his mind, but this time it was leading him, back to the River. As they get close to the current itself, Railyn could see their forms, and Ivern guided him with his long, feathered and golden tail. Ivern bathed himself in the current, but kept Railyn to the side, forcing him out anytime Railyn tried to enter as well. Use our bond, and focus on exactly what you want to happen.

Suddenly, Ivern flicked his tail, and a splash of golden energy forced Railyn out of the River completely, and he rushed back to his own body. He stared back at the wall. What did he want to do? Well, he wanted to break the wall, and to escape, of course. But, he expected that to work just was well as the fire. He needed to get more specific. He... wanted to break the rock apart with energy, enough to get him out of there.

He closed his eyes --it helped him concentrate better if he could see only black-- and pressed both palms to the wall. I want to separate the rocks enough to break them apart. Hopefully saying it aloud would make it clearer for... whatever the River actually was. Ivern repeated his request, and suddenly his hands burned bright, and the white-hot energy spread through the wall like a spiderweb, and Railyn could hear the crackling of the wall spreading and breaking apart. He lifted a hand away from the wall and punched it. To his surprise, the wall burst out, breaking apart and revealing the view of another building and metal walkways between them, but they were tilted and separated from the other building across the way.

Railyn gasped and exhaled. The feeling of the power was exhilarating. He took a moment to calm his breathing. His lungs were tight from the effort of breaking the wall, but he felt better than he had since before he was caged up. He stepped onto the metal walkway, and it swayed under him. He bounced it up and down with just the motion of his foot. He sighed, and looked around. To his right was the base wall. This one was still intact, and much higher than the building he was in. To his left was a scene of disarray, and it looked like it was a direct impact from the blast earlier. Water rushed forth like there was a river in the middle of the base, and Railyn realized it was also under him. He couldn't see any of the others, not even Elidyr anymore, but Ivern flew around and landed on his shoulder, which caused the walkway to groan under the added weight.

How far are we from Elidyr?

There are multiple soldiers coordinating between this building and the sullen one. Ivern scratched at his nose. We're not getting to him anytime soon.

What if we flew in? Railyn asked, donning a sly smile.

I cannot carry yo--

Railyn kicked the one support left on their building, and the grated metal walkway broke free from the building, swinging around on lower supports to the side of the building. You think you can burn off the supports from here?

Ivern twirled around Railyn's neck, his tail smacking Railyn in the face. He answered Railyn's question in the form of a small, contained fireball onto a bolt just below them. It bursted open, and the metal walkway stuttered down, lowering them a considerable height before it swung out into the open, barely getting maintained by the remaining bolts. The soldiers looked up in awe at Railyn and Ivern.

Where's Elidyr? Can you see him? Railyn shouted internally as he struggled to maintain his balance on the unstable landing.

Just up ahead, there is a circle of guards surrounding his body.

His body. That reminded Railyn of the bodies in the cave, and he grimaced at the thought. He wasn't going to let Elidyr go that same way. Do you think we can make it from here?

Ivern growled. It doesn't hurt to try. He spat out another fireball, and the walkway's mediocre support crumbled. Railyn launched himself to the circle of guards. He wasn't going to make it, he noticed that almost right away, and his life flashed before his eyes.

Ivern let out a groan and wrapped his talons around Railyn's collar. They soared through the air for just a moment as Ivern flapped his wings furiously, and that momentum allowed the duo to just make it enough to clash into one side of the guards. The metal armor of the soldier's rammed into his side as he toppled two guards over. Railyn rolled off of them, and Ivern rammed his body into the guard nearest Railyn, who crumpled with a yelp. Railyn pulled out the shortsword from his belt loop and swung it around wildly as he struggled to his feet.

Ivern let out a roar, and for a moment Railyn was actually terrified of him, and it reminded him oh so suddenly that his companion was actually, in fact, a dragon. Ivern crashed into another guard just as they turned around to see what the commotion was about. It wasn't enough to send this one toppling, but Ivern dug his razor sharp talons into the soldier's chest-plate, mauling the metal and silver.

Another soldier reared up to Railyn, a spear in hand. He stumbled backwards, attempting to get his shield out from its straps. He dodged a swipe of the spear, and finally managed to get the shield out. Railyn lowered himself and rammed into the soldier with the shield, sending them both tumbling into another soldier. Railyn felt a sharp, intense pain in his side and rolled away from the soldiers, coughing up blood. He glanced down to see a knife embedded in his stomach. He groaned.

Ivern blew intense fire into the helmet of a soldier and they crumbled. He instinctively turned to Railyn as his pain reverberated in both of their minds. Young Beloved!

The two soldiers got up from Railyn's attack and charged at him. He had barely a moment to dodge the spear headed for his chest, but the second soldier rammed a shield into his face, and his vision blurred. He raised his own shield in front of him in a blind attempt to dodge whatever attack was going to happen next, but he felt his feet be swept out from underneath him. Doesn't look like we're getting out of this one. He thought to himself. He opened an eye to see soldiers carrying Elidyr's limp form away from him, and he groaned, letting his his head fall onto the floor.

A weight landed onto his stomach, forcing the air out of his lungs. He thought it was a soldier's boot, but he felt Ivern's calming presence against his. Ivern roared, breathing out fire all around them, and snatched the knife out of Railyn's stomach. Railyn shouted, but that pain was nothing compared to what was next. Ivern scorched his wound with a puff of heated air and tugged at his collar. Get up! We will not die here!

Belxibis' glowing figure rampaged through the broken circle of guards. He and Railyn locked eyes, and for a moment, Railyn saw nothing but rage behind those eyes, and he thought he was going to be just another victim of this accursed prophetic power. A soldier lunged a spear and it grazed Bel's shoulder, and he cracked the spear with one hand and offered the other to Railyn. He took it gratefully, and his vision wavered as he lifted himself up. "Elidyr was taken that way!" He lifted up a shaky hand towards the edge of the military base, where the port was.

Bel's eyes followed his path, and he emitted a growl.

Tyri rushed out in front of the two and shouted some kind of language Railyn couldn't understand, and she waved her hands in the area in front of them, and the metal and stone floor shifted to sand. The soldiers dropped into the water with a combined yelp. Some kind of support underneath the military base let out a moan and clinked, and the ground shuddered. Railyn instinctively grabbed Tyri to support them both.

Belxibis and Paimon sprinted ahead. The path between them and the port was blocked by a gate, but it was unmistakable, Elidyr was beyond there. Multiple soldiers were running to blockade them and get closer to the port entrance at the same time. It was clear the military base was not going to stay above the water for long.

Two soldiers bent down and fired flaming arrows down onto a makeshift watchtower to their right. Its support buckled, and the watchtower crumbled almost onto their path. Bel jumped forward and braced himself against a large log, straining against the weight. "Go!" He managed, and Paimon needed no further instruction. She rushed forward, but the watchtower buckled on top of them both. In an instant, her trusted rock exploded into a stone person almost the size of Bel, and they both held up the ruined watchtower for Paimon to pass through.

Bel glanced back at Railyn and Tyri. "We'll find another way through! Get to Eli!" Bel grunted and let the log fall behind him, and they were gone.

Railyn shifted his weight, and water sloshed in response. He looked down, and the hole Tyri opened before them was pooling water onto the floor. Tyri inched a step forward, but she groaned. "I can't see anything, Railyn. You might have to leave me here." There was fear in her voice.

"Not going to happen." Railyn managed out, but in truth he was as terrified as she was. He was exhausted, and his leg was hurt from all the action from before. Ivern crawled from Railyn's shoulder to Tyri's, whining. "We'll take it slow, okay? If you can support me while I support you, I can guide us both through this."

Part of the watchtower crumpled into the sea below and water poured onto the rest of it, dousing the flames. Railyn could make out some kind of lattice that was still standing to the left of the ruins, and he headed that way, on step at a time. Ivern, scout ahead. We'll be fine.

Ivern gave a glance to Railyn, but jumped off of Tyri's shoulder and launched himself, flying above the watchtower and out of view.

Step by step, they made the arduous trek across the broken planks and unstable ground across the watchtower's debris. Clouds overhead boomed their cacophony of thunder, announcing a storm rolling into the port, and sure enough, the pitter-patter of rain sprinkled on their heads and above them. It reminded Railyn of his time in the wider mines, as the humidity gathered at the ceiling of the rockwalls and condensed down on the miners below.

The ruins of the watchtower opened out. Water dripped down Railyn's forehead to his eyes, blurring his vision. He couldn't see the others, but he knew they had made it past the gate. In an ironic move that favored them, the watchtower has crashed through the gate. However, they were a good two persons above the ground below. They would have to jump.

Railyn said that aloud, and he felt Tyri shudder. She nodded, though, and Railyn had to admit she showed far more bravery than he could have, in her situation.

"I'm going to let you go, so we don't crush each other when we jump." Tyri managed a nod, but Railyn could see the fear etched on her face. "You got this," he said, but he didn't know who to.

He glanced down at the edge. The sky had darkened, and it gave a grave mood to the scene below. But, he had to jump. It was a leap, a leap of faith.

He jumped.
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72 Days B.N.D.


He slammed onto a slick ground and slid into something rough. The air was forced out of his lungs, and he coughed. Blood reached the back of his throat, and that led to another series of coughs. He opened his eyes, but they were blurred, one crimson with stinging blood in it. He tried to find something solid to grab ahold of, but it was nothing but slick stone. He gasped out, trying to shout for Tyri, but he couldn't find his voice.

Something large and steady grabbed his shoulder and pulled him up in one fell swoop. He stumbled at the sudden and swift change in elevation, but another hand grabbed him and stabilized him. He blinked once, twice, and his vision somewhat cleared. Bel looked into his eyes, no longer orange. He looked worse for wear, but a soft smile adorned his face and reassured Railyn.

Then he recalled Tyri, and he glanced over, but Paimon had already assisted her. Paimon and he met eyes, and she nodded. "Good of you to join us. Eli's just ahead."

Lady was on Paimon's shoulder, her tail wrapped around Paimon's neck. She looked miserable and wet, but more importantly she looked absolutely pissed. Railyn couldn't blame her.

Ivern flapped and joined Railyn. They're waiting at the port with the sullen one. They are cornered.

Bel clapped Railyn on his shoulder. "Take a breath, but we need to move. They're looking to escape and take Eli with them."

Railyn nodded, and they rushed up a slight incline to the port entrance. Sure enough, Elidyr was being held up by two guards, one holding each arm. He was still limp. There was a meager amount of soldiers standing around, seemingly waiting for something beyond the military base. Railyn assumed they could take the soldiers, but he didn't know if any of them wanted to risk it. He glanced at the others, and their worn expressions told him they felt the same.

"So, how are we going about this?" Paimon offered the start of a conversation none of them wanted to discuss.

"How many are there?" Tyri asked. She hugged a piece of wood. It wasn't her staff, but it had to do.

"More than us, that's for sure." Paimon sighed. "Anyone wanna rage out and take them out for the rest of us? Bel?"

Bel shook his head, his shoulders slumped.

"Okay. Railyn?"

Railyn chuckled instinctively. "I have even less control over my abilities than Bel." Paimon chuckled at that, but Bel winced. Maybe that joke hit something with him. Railyn didn't have the energy to pursue that thought further.

"Perhaps we could sneak in?" Bel offered.

"Ah yes, like how that worked for us when we 'snuck' into the base to begin with?" Paimon grinned. "I like this idea."

"Tyri, can you fog up the place again?"

She let out an exhale. "I don't know how much cover I can provide without my staff, but... I can try." She handed the staff to Paimon and held out her arms, fingers outstretched. She muttered something, possibly the same words she did when they first approached the Synuan guards.

Fog poured out from her fingertips, pilfering onto the scene below. Railyn could see the soldiers' curious and confused looks at the sudden weather change. This might just work.

Tyri slumped over, holding onto the wooden plank.

The four danced through the fog. Railyn quickly lost the others, but he worried not; their goals were all the same. Each time he got close to a soldier, he backed away slowly, inch by inch.

Finally, he could see Elidyr. His heart jumped. It felt like forever since he had been this close to the healer.

Suddenly, the fog dispersed, and Railyn found himself face to face with a mage soldier. They swung their staff, knocking him back. He scrambled back, but Bel stepped in between them. He growled. It was a fierce sound, even though he wasn't orange.

A stone pierced the left soldier who was holding Elidyr, and they slumped. Eli's feet hit the ground, but he didn't fall. Another stone ruptured the second soldier through their chest, and they crumpled, choking on their blood.

Elidyr's eyes flickered open.

"Eli!" Railyn scrambled to his feet.

Elidyr's eyes were unfocused, his face scrunched in confusion. But reality washed over his expression. "Railyn. Run!"

Ivern growled, and Railyn turned to see what was causing the change in them.

The knife leg lady, Mythica, jumped down from a perch above them, her legs clinking against the stone. She stepped forward. Multiple soldiers revealed themselves from the landing she was just on, holding their weapons in preparation. Paimon and Tyri stood behind Elidyr on either side, Paimon's makeshift sling and Tyri's wooden not-staff at the ready to defend him.

Mythica flexed her hands and adjusted the bronze glove on her right one. "You truly are going to be such a pain in my side until you're dead, aren't you, little Adonis?"

Elidyr strained his eyes at Mythica, his body stiff but still standing. "You can't control me again, Mythica. You saw what happened last time."

Belxibis positioned himself between Railyn and Mythica and she stepped forward, her swords clinking against the ground. "Do you truly believe that?"

She took a step forward, and Elidyr backed up, breathing hard, but he stood a little straighter. "Leave us alone, Mythica," but there was no true malice in his voice.

Mythica chuckled. "How can you ask that of me? Especially now of all times, little Adonis." Her smile became sour, and curled into a grimace. "You have so much more information to give me." She flicked her wrist and two spools pumped out of her hips, one on each side, and metal wires spun out of them and attached themselves to crates behind of Elidyr. She jumped up and spun through the air as the wires contracted, tugging her towards Elidyr. She spun kicked, and Elidyr ducked just in time, as her blades swung through the air right where his head was just moments before. Paimon charged Mythica with her sling, shooting her hip. Mythica tugged at the wires and they detached from the crates and spun around Mythica as it retracted. One of the wires knocked the pebble out of the air and the other scraped Paimon's cheek, slicing it open.

Railyn started forward to assist them, but a blast of magical fire launched him backwards. He collapsed onto barrels, and debris of wood stabbed into his side. He gasped out in pain. He rolled over and a shaky hand grabbed ahold of the wood and he ripped it out. A scream escaped his mouth with air he didn't know he had in his lungs. He shuddered, a spasm crossing his entire body. He traced his hand over the wound, and realized it had speared him. With one hand on the front of his abdomen and one on his back, he squinted and burned the wounds like Ivern had done so just moments ago. The pain brought tears to his eyes and sparkles around the corners of his vision. He felt Ivern's presence and worry flood into his mind. I'm okay. Help the others! Railyn tried to assuage him. They both knew the truth, but Ivern didn't need to be told twice.

A reassuring hand grabbed his shoulder and seized him up to his feet. He blacked out for a moment, but he was stabilized by Bel, who was looking down into his eyes with concern. "Are you--"

"We need to help Eli," Railyn gasped out.

"Are you okay?" Bel repeated, and suddenly Railyn looked back into his eyes and the world around them fell apart, and Bel was all that Railyn saw.

He shook it away. "Yes, yes. I'll live. But Eli might not!" Railyn gave Bel a reassuring pat on his back. He was glad Bel couldn't read his mind like Ivern could.

Bel nodded, and he turned against the two oncoming mage soldiers. One had a staff and the other was bare handed. The latter carved energy straight into the air into a circle. Signs of bright crimson burned into the air around that circle. Railyn couldn't read what the signs were, but he could feel the power radiating from them as they surrounded each side of the circle. Railyn wanted that staff.

Bel advanced first, rushing forward with his shoulder. The energy carved out finished, and the mage pushed their hand out. Flames burst forth from it and spread into a wall in front of them both. The absolute heat from it seared Railyn and he backed off, but Belxibis didn't care. He rammed into the staffed mage and grabbed the other mage's head, slamming her against the staffed mage's chest-plate, and they were both still. Railyn glanced at Bel, who turned back to him. Bel let out a cheesy smile, but the moment was quickly ruined as Tyri cried out.

Mythica slid under Tyri's legs, slicing the back of her calves. Tyri stumbled and fell to her knees. Paimon lodged her pebble back into her sling and launched it at Mythica. Midway through the air, it burst into flames. Mythica rolled onto her back and kicked the fireball out of the way and it tossed aside, plopping into the water.

"Stop!" Elidyr belted out. "Let them go, Mythica! I'll stay with you." He held out a bloodied hand. "I'll do whatever you want."

"How noble," Mythica said. "It's too late for placation, though."

Bel and Railyn rushed over to them. Mythica saw them coming, and she flicked the wires around. One of them connected with Bel's shoulder, digging into his flesh. The other attached to a tower. Mythica tugged at the cords, and dragged the tower down, collapsing on top of Bel and blocking the way for Railyn.

"Bel!" Railyn scrambled to the watchtower's remains. He struggled to lift a plank, but it wasn't needed.

Bursting through the wood, Bel ripped the cord out of his shoulder, his eyes and body blazing bright orange. He snarled at Mythica. She smiled in return. "Well this is a pleasant turn of events."

Bel slammed his hands together, and the area around him sucked in, creating a vacuum. It then exploded outward, clearing the wreckage. Railyn was blown back from the impact, knocking the wind out of his lungs once again. If only he could get a moment to breathe, he thought as he struggled to a sitting position.

Mythica stood before Bel, blocking his path from the others. "The beast returns." She revealed a cruel smile. "I was wondering when you would show up again."
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72 Days B.N.D.


Railyn crawled up to his knees. Bel was just standing there like a showdown between him and Mythica. That wasn't like him, especially when he was orange.

Mythica tilted her head. "Oh, that's right, you probably wouldn't recognize me." She lifted her glove. "You will."

Bel spasmed and curled over. Railyn stumbled to his feet. He was tired, but he needed to help. "Bel. We can do this," Railyn said, walking over to him. "Bel?"

He frowled, deep and frustrating. Railyn stepped forward with hesitation. "Bel?"

Belxibis turned on Railyn, towering over him. His eyes were unfocused, and his face didn't look familiar anymore. He bared his teeth, and his back arched. He charged Railyn, knocking him backward. Railyn clambered back. "Bel!"

But it was no longer Bel.

Belxibis let out a feral scream, and his hands cracked, his fingers splitting open to reveal gruesome bone claws.

"Run, little boy." Mythica shouted. It was sound advice. Railyn ran.

Mythica turned to Elidyr. Tyri had scooted herself to him, and Paimon was hovering over the two, sling in hand. They were all beaten and battered. Mythica sauntered to them. Elidyr clutched his side. "Let them go, Mythica." He had no passion behind the words, and barely any life to them in general.

Mythica pondered his words for a moment. "No." She mockingly sighed. "You really should learn how to accept when a woman tells you no."

Paimon readied her sling. Mythica scoffed. "I was pondering who I would kill first of your comrades, but you choose for me."

Railyn slipped through a slim opening between debris next to the military base wall. Not a second later, Belxibis ripped through the wood. A large portion of the wood stuck itself in between his claws. He roared at it and ripped the wood off of his hands, and swiped at the wall, the bone claws scraping against the walls.

Railyn ducked behind a wooden gate and hopped over a pack of barrels, just barely avoiding tripping over them and falling flat on his face. He kicked the gate into Belxibis, who crashed through it like it was nothing.

Railyn ran by buildings and behind them, looking for any moment of escape. Each time he looked down an alleyway, all he could see were the bodies of the mafia members and him stacking at the very top.

He bent down below a metal pipe and saw a ladder. Maybe Railyn could escape Belxibis with elevation. He jumped up and grabbed the bottom rung and swung for a moment, letting the momentum move him enough to grab ahold with his other hand. He reached up one rung.

Something grabbed his leg, and he felt Bel's claws dig into his calf. He screamed and kicked out. The claw retracted from his leg and blood spilled out of the gash that remained. Railyn lurched himself above, climbing up the ladder. Belxibis jumped up and wrapped his disgusting claw around the lowest ledge. The ladder stuttered from the added weight. Belxibis hung inches from the ground with one hand and swung wildly at Railyn with the other. Railyn was just out of his range as he climbed to the top rung. He glanced down at Bel. Blood dripped into Bel's eyes, tinting their soulless irises red as they stared unwavering at Railyn. Railyn didn't take longer than a moment to absorb that dreadful image before he flipped over the railing onto a catwalk on what looked like the fourth floor of the building.

Railyn ran across the catwalk, not bothering to look behind him. His path ended up ahead, splitting off to the left and right. The left route would take him closer to the others. It was his best chance. It was his only chance.

He hobbled across the catwalk as it bridged between two buildings, his leg protesting every time he put any weight onto it. He couldn't see the back of his leg to look at the gash, but he knew it wasn't good. He wished he had time to wrap something around it. Railyn glanced back where he came from. He couldn't see Bel, nor hear him. Either he'd bleed out right here and then, or he would risk it. He decided to take the opportunity, and pulled his scarf off, wrapping it around the wound tightly. He felt tingles shock through his ankle as feeling dispersed.

A growl split through the air and Bel jumped up to the platform, slicing through the landing behind Railyn clean through. The catwalk faltered and groaned as half of its support broke off. Railyn grabbed the railing for dear life as his footing slipped. Bel slammed onto the ground below and bellowed out. Railyn attempted to dive into the River to do... something, anything, but he couldn't reach out. He tried to talk to Ivern, but, again, nothing. Railyn, clutching to the railing, inched forward, hopping with his good leg. He could see Bel's silhouette tracing his location below him. Railyn's blood and rain trickled down onto Bel, but neither seemed to phase him. His attention was solely on Railyn.

Railyn reached a more stable part of the platform that attached to the building and sighed. He took an elongated moment to catch his breath. He veered down. Bel was gone.

Mythica launched Paimon across the opening before the port with her wires, slamming her onto the ground. Paimon coughed, blood spitting out of her mouth.

"What, no retort this time?" Mythica said with a sneer.

Elidyr raised his hand and his aura flared to life for a split second. Mythica turned to him. "I think I felt a breeze." She kicked him over which didn't seem to take much energy. "It's sad none of you can last as long as the beast. You know, when he was running through our military base for the cure to bluecough, he took on an entire small army all by himself." She picked up Paimon by the collar and dragged her to Elidyr and Tyri, dumping her with the other bodies. "I soon realized he was looking for the cure to assist some of my loose ends. He had a crossbow stuck on one of his antlers." She laughed. "But, that's neither here nor there. I realized something far more important." The smile left her face. "He had bluecough." She waved around her bronze glove lackadaisically, the crystals on it still glowing. "I mean, I knew it affected magically attuned creatures differently, of course, but I didn't realize how easy it was for me to control them.

"I mean, I should have realized you had a Tiefling with you, little Adonis. There's no way you could have made it this far into Synilas on your own. I was keeping track on the Draconis Valley, ever since the rebellion and subsequent attack on Synua guards in Yse, but I admit, it escaped my mind that a Tiefling was causing that mess. I mean, you could forgive me for assuming that when my scouts reported a 'blue man', I'd mistake that for someone with bluecough." Mythica picked up a rucksack, flinging it over her shoulder. "It's convenient for me then that he led me right to my loose ends. I used him to cut my loose ends. It's convenient for me now that he led the end of Asturian reign into my hands." She clicked her fingers, and a few guards marched over, slinging the three injured ones over their shoulders.

"I'll keep you for awhile. Your fight here deserves you at least that. After, though, I'll use the beast to assist me in overthrowing the Adonis family. Take them to the ship."

Bel burst through the wall of the building, crashing in front of Railyn. Heart pounding in his ears, he sprinted, injured leg and all, across the metal walkway. YOUNG BELOVED! The thought bombarded his insides as an emerald blur struck Belxibis and they tumbled down the walkway in a conjoined mess. Ivern flapped his wings to stop their tumble and he was on top of Belxibis. He belted out fire in Bel's face, but Bel was not phased. He punched Ivern squarely in the jaw and threw him against the bricked wall. Ivern shrugged it off and snapped at Bel's claws, his jaw clamping around one of them. Bel called out in pain and slammed his arm into the wall, smashing Ivern into it and it crumbled. Ivern attempted to fly in the rumble, but Bel carved one of his wings, hooking onto the end of it and rammed him into the railing. Belxibis clutched Ivern's skull and slammed it into the railing again and then pinned him onto the ground.

"No," Railyn muttered. He rose to his feet, shaking, and started towards them. "No."

Ivern growled and flicked his tail, scraping Bel's face. He didn't flinch; he slammed Ivern's head into the walkway and the metal bent against the impact, forming an skull-shaped indentation. Ivern's wings flapped furiously, beating against the railing and the wall in desperation. He forced open his jaw and spat flames into Bel's face. Bel grabbed ahold of Ivern's jaws and wrenched them further apart.

"No!" Railyn shouted.

Ivern screamed bloody murder, the sound splitting through Railyn's ears. He would never forget that sound. Bel pushed Ivern's jaw open further, and the edges of his cheeks strained against the pressure, the scaled skin cracking and blood trickling around each scale.

Railyn rammed into Belxibis with what energy he could manage, but Bel just knocked him away with a swat of his hand, and Railyn rammed against the railing. It broke upon impact, and he slipped over the edge, almost falling off. Belxibis focused back on Ivern.

In the corner of his vision, Railyn could see Mythica and some soldiers picking up the rest of his friends. It was over, he thought bitterly. The support beam of the walkway swayed in the stormy winds.

Ivern struggled against Bel's might, one last desperate attempt to break free. Bel slammed him against the walkway, and the platform buckled. Railyn's side went first, and they swung away from the building. The railing creaked from the pressure and it jumped down. Bel was knocked into the side of the railing and Ivern broke free of his grasp. As they all fell, Ivern dug his talons into Bel's shoulder and used their momentum to toss him off the side. The collided with the edge of the port, right next to the others. Belxibis, still enraged, rammed Mythica and they tumbled together. Her concentration was shattered and Belxibis rolled off of Mythica, shaking his head.

Ivern half glided, half fell, into Railyn and carried him off the side of the walkway before it crashed into the ground.

Mythica brushed herself off. "Who do you think you--" she locked eyes with Belxibis' fiery orange ones. He was no longer focused on Railyn, but on her now. She pointed her glove at him, but he charged her, ramming her across the port and she fell into the water with a plop. Bel then turned to face the soldiers carrying Paimon and the others, but they dropped them and took off without a second glance.

Railyn held Ivern's limp body in his arms. He and Bel locked eyes. It was the first time Railyn had seen emotion in them, and it was pain, and regret.

Paimon coughed, forcing out blood from her throat. "Nice of you two to join us." She stumbled to her feet and helped a barely conscious Tyri up. "Now can we get out of here?"
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71 Days B.N.D


As they swam towards the shoreline, all Paimon could think was that she should have chosen the feet. Railyn had the feet, not by any choice of his own. Paimon had just been hasty.

As Bel and Railyn had stepped onto the port, the ancient woodwork had cracked with the weight of the collapsed metal of the guardtowers. Without hesitation, Paimon had grabbed Elidyr's shoulders and dragged him off of the walkway, into the shallows of the bay. "Come on," she said, treading water. "Railyn, grab his feet."

And that was how they had gotten clear of the sinking base. They hid themselves behind the floating crates, which leaked powder that turned the sea gray. Railyn had Elidyr's legs on his shoulders, floating him behind Paimon as they travelled back to town. Ivern was limp atop his head. Further behind, Bel was guiding Tyri along, each of them barely afloat. Lady fluttered overhead, making a sound that humans couldn't get sad enough to make.

Now that they were far from the base, Paimon could see rowboats flocking in the surf, headed towards a larger ship anchored ominously in the harbor. It was only a matter of time before the guards went back to search the wreckage and, finding nothing, turn on Nua Port. They were likely to try and rescue Mythica as well. Paimon hoped that sword legs were bad for swimming.

All of that was second to what was right in front of her. Elidyr's face had gone pale. He was still breathing -- rapidly, in fact, and he stared listlessly into the sky. Paimon knew exactly what was happening, and it felt like the water was crushing her against the stony shore. Elidyr was going into shock, unable to react as a wave rolled into his open mouth.

Paimon yelped and hoisted Eli above the water. Railyn moved back, startled, and Eli's legs slipped into the water. It didn't matter, Paimon thought. They were close enough now.

Paimon surged through the tide, dragging Elidyr's spluttering body behind her. It took her far too long to reach the shore, far too long; but when she dumped Elidyr up on the rocks, he was coughing, the water draining from his mouth. Paimon sighed in relief, then took a sharp breath and hoisted herself up.

Lady landed nearby and started to lick Eli's face. His hand reached up and stroked her head, before a fit of coughing set his whole body trembling.

Paimon grabbed Railyn's wrist as he reached up from the water, coughing and spitting. "Thanks," he said as Paimon pulled him onto the rock face. "I thought I was going to drown."

Paimon blinked. "Can you not swim?"

Somehow, the question seemed to exhaust Railyn even more. "Up until a week ago, I was living underground." He then sat down, holding his arm against his left side.

Behind them, Bel grabbed the rocks with one hand and hauled Tyri up with the other. As he exhaled in relief, his grip slackened, and he nearly fell back into the water before Railyn grabbed his hand. Paimon saw a flash of pain go through both of them; whether it was injury or something more, she couldn't tell. Bel climbed up out of the water and collapsed, hands and knees, on the rocky shoreline.

"Town's right there," Paimon said, panting heavily. "We have to get to a doctor."

"We have to get out of sight too," Tyri reminded her. "There's a lot of guards in the harbor."

"We have time," Paimon insisted. "Enough to get help for Eli, Bel, and Railyn."

"Looks like we just ran out of it," Bel said grimly. He was staring out into the bay, where three black ships were sailing in to meet the guards. "Tyri's right, we need to hide."

Paimon cursed. Near her on the rocks, the rune sphere popped out from the silt and stared up at her.

"My house," she said, hauling Eli up again. "Bel, keep his legs above his head. Come on."

Their wet shoes smacked against the wooden roads as they dashed across the port. Nua Port was a town that rose early. Paimon knew that. She knew the streets and the way they rocked against the waves, the little spurts of water as the tide was forced upward against the road. Her senses were hypertuned, running through town, finding the quickest path home, which she knew. She knew, but she also knew that Elidyr had stopped hyperventilating. His breathing was getting slower.

As the sun rose higher, fishermen began leaving their homes and heading for the docks. They all stopped short and stared fearfully at the fleet of ships that was slowly assembling in the bay.

"Not much farther," Paimon said, and kept talking in order to fill the silence left by Elidyr's breath. "A little more. This way, this way."

The Fel household was still bobbing gently at the edge of town. Paimon held Eli up with one hand and rapped the other on the wooden door. Azazel usually worked late, so she had no idea whether he'd be up. But when her father stumbled to the doorstep, rubbing his goggled eyes, Paimon nearly rammed through him as she stepped inside. Azazel glanced at them curiously, but on seeing the bloodstains, he nodded and shut the door behind them.

Soon, Elidyr was laid up on the couch, his wounds bleeding faintly. His hand hung over the side of the couch down to the floor, where Lady pressed her head against it. Paimon slammed her hands against Eli's ribcage, forcing blood through his veins. Once or twice, she was scared she'd broken a rib, but didn't stop pumping until Azazel rested a hand on her shoulder and pointed to Eli's mouth. "He's breathing."

"I've actually gotten quite good at bandaging," said Azazel a few minutes later, as he worked a roll of gauze over Eli's right leg. "Your mother said I should learn, in case I hurt myself when she's not around. I saved my own life about a month ago; little explosion, there's still bits of steel in my workroom walls. Here, you're being hasty, let me lift him up for you."

Paimon stopped briefly as Azazel worked an arm under Elidyr's torso, raising him up enough to wrap a bandage around his waist. "Thanks," she said as Azazel set him back down. "How's everyone else?"

Azazel pointed to the dining room. "I set them up with a few rolls of bandages. Did what I could; splinted Railyn's leg with a few inactive staff pieces. He's good enough for your mother to take over when she gets home. Hm, well, I think they were inactive. He may feel some slight euphoria later. As for Tyri and your tiefling friend, they were managing to patch each other up. They understood that your friend here required the most immediate attention."

Paimon nodded. "Thanks. Wait, you said my mom was coming home?"

Just then, the door opened, and two shoes kicked off in the entry hall, clattering around. A tall woman in a long coat rounded the corner into the living room, holding a hand to her head and gripping a pipe in her mouth. Her eyes were weary, but the lean in her gait was forceful and intimidating. "Another long night," said Berith Fel as she stepped into the living room. "A dock worker got caught in the anchorwork, nearly lost him." Her voice trailed off as she saw Paimon, kneeling in front of the couch.

"Paimon," she said calmly, snapping the pipe with her teeth. "Welcome home."

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Paimon opened and shut drawer after drawer, looking intensely through her mother's supply. "Where's the saline," she murmured. "Orange pot, orange pot." She rifled through the cabinets, spinning around her mother's small study. The one thing she could find was her mother's medical certification, hung on the wall in a tauntingly visible place. Dr. Berith Fel, Paimon thought. Mother of the century.

"Your father dug out a healing rune, he's making some progress on repairing your friend's wounds." Paimon spun around and faced her mother as she came in. "What's taking so long?"

"The saline isn't here," Paimon said.

Berith snorted. "What? Of course it's here." She walked over to her desk and opened the drawer, producing a large orange pot of clear liquid. "See?"

"What -- it used to be in the drawers!" Paimon protested. "Besides, you used to tell me not to touch your desk."

"Yes, well I moved it," Berith retorted. "Now come on."

Paimon sighed and followed her mother back downstairs, where Azazel was holding a gnarled wooden staff over Elidyr. "Like this," he explained to Tyri. A soft green thread slowly formed from the end of the staff, sinking into Eli's chest. "We can get most of the larger wounds this way."

Tyri nodded worriedly. Her head was wrapped in bandages, and she was leaning on the chair for support.

"And just what are you making my patient do?" Berith snapped at her husband. She turned to Tyri. "You, you have a head wound. You shouldn't even be standing. I laid out the bedrolls in the dining room. Go. Go." Her repetition was forceful, and Tyri stumbled back to the dining room, where Bel and Railyn were already unconscious.

"Sorry, Berry. I just wanted to show her how," Azazel said sheepishly. He worked the staff back and forth, stirring Eli's chest with the glowing green thread.

"There's a time and place for that," Berith replied. "How is he?"

Azazel looked at Eli. "I've got his chest wounds mostly closed. His hands and feet are shattered, though; that'll take a while. But it's his breathing that's got me worried."

"He's got bluecough," Paimon interjected. "He needs hybroth potion."

"He has--" Berith blinked. "Riander and pell. Top middle drawer. Make it right now before we all start wheezing."

"Oh, I made a new staff for Tyri," Azazel added. "It's in my workroom."

"Azazel."

"Make the hybroth first, though."

Paimon grabbed the ingredients and dashed back down to the kitchen, tossing them all in a pot. Normally she'd take the time to crush the root separately, but a vigorous soup ladle did the trick as well. Filling it with water, she stoked a fire in the stove and stirred the pot. Too long, and the healing juice would leach out of the leaves. Too short, and natural toxins would pool in the roots. When she was sure she had it right, she doused the fire quickly and ran back into the living room, placing the pot of hybroth on the table. Her mother took a whiff. "Seems a little diluted," she commented.

"It still works," Paimon shot back. "Lift him up."

"No need to feed him," Berith said, holding up a small waterskin attached to a tube. "We can mix it into his veins."

Paimon fixed the tube to a needle and placed it in Elidyr's arm. Slowly, the waterskin drained. Paimon was sure she was imagining it, but Elidyr looked a little less blue. She sat on the living room floor and watched his chest rise and fall. He looked so fragile, as if the wind could blow through the window and steal his last breath. Azazel propped up his staff and walked away, letting the healing magic drain slowly into Elidyr as well. Lady hovered over and sniffed the pot, and gagged.

"Your friends are drinking some potion," Berith said, walking back from the dining room. "You can take a break now."

"Just like that?" Paimon asked. "What, I thought a doctor needed to attend their patients to the best of their ability?" She gasped in pain as an alcohol pad pressed against her cheek.

"A doctor also needs not to die from infection," Berith said wryly, kneeling down beside her. "Hold still."

Paimon sat grumpily as her mother swabbed and dressed the gash on her cheek. "Did you manage to fix up the dragon? I imagine that would have been a challenge even for you."

"If I even got into it now, you'd never hear the end of it," Berith snorted. "But I do have questions, Paimon. Questions that will have to wait until you're out of those bloody clothes. Like why my daughter ran off for six years and then brought me a man with bluecough and torture wounds."

"As I said," she interrupted Paimon as she started to speak, "after you've changed. You're getting too exhausted to be of any help."

"Is that so," Paimon replied tersely. "I was doing well enough before you came home."

Berith nodded. "I agree. You've become a fine doctor. Makes me wonder what you left for." She brushed her thumb across Paimon's cheek to smooth out the bandage, then stood up and walked away.
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71 Days B.N.D


"He's stable," Paimon told Tyri. "Though, I guess you already knew that."

Tyri sighed in relief. "I could see he was alive, but I had no way of knowing whether he'd stay that way. Thank goodness."

Their bedrolls were laid out on the dining room floor; the table and chairs had been scooted over to the window. Railyn and Bel were lying face-up, passed out and up to their necks in bandages. Ivern had been stretched out on a smaller bed, his lower jaw patched shut.

"When they wake up, we'll talk about what to do next," Tyri said. "I don't know if we can even leave the house at this point."

"Well, in that case, you can all live here," Paimon said, spreading her arms out to encompass the house. "My dad enjoys your company anyway."

"That doesn't sound too bad," Tyri replied, chuckling. "If only the prophecy was about five roommates relaxing. It'd make things a lot easier."

"Right?" Paimon replied. She found herself laughing along. "Instead we're off to who-knows-where to do who-knows-what. Feels like we haven't actually done anything the prophecy said."

"We found each other," Tyri pointed out. "I like to think that was a good thing."

"I think it is." They fell silent for a while, watching Ivern's tail flick back and forth slowly as the little dragon dreamed. They had to suppress their laughter when Bel's tail started to do the same. They were safe for the moment, and that was enough. Paimon felt some of the tension that had built up in her shoulders for the past few days. It felt like it was leaking, fizzling off of her body. But for some reason, she couldn't let it all go. It stayed anchored into her muscles, attached as deep as her veins.

Paimon thought that was why she didn't jump along with Tyri as a voice erupted from thin air. "Attention, people of Nua Port. An Adonis fugitive has infiltrated the city. He is being sheltered and given aid by some of those among you. For the safety of Synua, we demand that he be turned over to our fleet."

Railyn shot upright, then let out a gasp of pain. "Who's saying that?" he asked.

"Nobody I've ever met," Paimon replied. "You know, it's actually-"

"If you refuse to comply-"

"Kind of rude to-"

"We will fire upon Nua Port-"

"Gonna stop talking now."

"Two days from this moment. However, this is merely a scenario in which you are not betrayed by your neighbor. As for those harboring the fugitive Adonis, we urge you to choose righteousness. Or face obliteration."

The voice cut off, as if it were snapped back into an invisible pocket. Silence flooded the room, each person waiting for the voice to pop back in and condemn them again, doom them even more. Eventually, Paimon let out a slow breath. "Now might be a good time to talk about that. Should we wake up Bel?"

"I heard it," said Bel. His eyes were wide open, staring at the ceiling. For a second his lips moved, before shutting firmly. The question was already in their heads, no need to say it.

What do we do now? Paimon picked for an idea like the end of a knot. "We can't move Eli right now," was the first thing she said. "He won't survive another attack, either."

"When can we move him?" Bel asked.

Paimon blew out air. Steady breaths, steady breaths. "I don't know."

"Either way, we're going to have to get past that fleet," Tyri said, rubbing her chin. "And the guards have locked down the land routes out of Nua Port."

"The Idoras are going to hunt us for as long as we're in Synua," Bel pointed out. "It's safer to leave."

"And get blown up by Mythica's fleet?" Railyn asked, then met Bel's eyes. "Sorry. It's just a really bad situation."

"I know." Bel looked down.

Paimon closed her eyes and pressed against them with the heels of her palms. She could just picture those smug Idoras waiting idly on their ships, waiting for four days as the crates from the military base leaked their powder into the water. The whole bay would probably be gray by then. But why wait two days to open fire? Grey powder...

"Gunpowder," she said, opening her eyes. Her vision was woozy for a second, but when it cleared, everyone was staring at her. "Mythica was storing a ton of gunpowder in the military base," Paimon continued. "Right?"

"It's probably all sunk now though," Tyri replied; then her brow furrowed. "Wait, you don't think that the gunpowder was meant for the ships?"

"It might have been," Railyn agreed. "That means if it's gone, the ships can't fire."

"For exactly two days, until they can resupply," Bel finished. His voice had started to gain brightness.

"Right, so that's...nothing new," Paimon said, running her fingers through her hair. "But if we can find a way to take out those ships within those two days, we'll be safe, and the town probably won't get destroyed, right?"

"Right," said Bel. "But then, what if they still have gunpowder?"

Paimon felt the hope seep out of the room. "It's a chance," she insisted slowly. "We can plan later, but knowing we have a chance is good."

They all nodded. It was good to have a chance, though another one to actually know that you had one. Three seconds later, Azazel barged in from the kitchen with a steaming fillet, and all chance of solemnness was out the window and into the harbor.

Later that day, Paimon lay on her dining room floor with her companions and drifted off to sleep. It was a familiar feeling, to see the midday sun glinting through the window, and to be rocked, ever so slightly, by the sea beneath her floorboards. She'd lived most of her life like this, after all. Paimon didn't feel very different now, having left and come back. The sea and sun were unchanged by time. Six years on the road, or twelve years since that day, could not change it.

Paimon felt a smile forming in her mind. It wasn't her smile; it belonged to the boy standing in front of her in the sea cave. His body stood stark against the slick walls of the cavern, which was tucked away on the shoreline, a place that children would discover and claim as their own. He was a boy whose eyes shone with a brightness you get from birth. He was ambling lightly over the rocks, holding up a staff which illuminated the cave. "Come see what I found, Paimon!" he said.

Paimon stamped her feet. "Piss off," she replied. "You've been dead for twelve years."

The boy frowned. Then his head popped open like a tomato.

Paimon opened her eyes and found that no time had passed. She huffed, turned over onto her side, and went back to sleep.

Image


Nua Port's evenings were generally raucous and homely, but the black-painted ships in the harbor had pressed a blade to the backs of everyone in town. Now they glanced furtively from the alleyways, shifty and afraid. Paimon found that this made fantastic cover.

"Okay, nobody's looking. Let's go." She dragged Tyri out of the shadows, and together they crossed the street like a three-legged race. Tyri had one arm over Paimon, and the other clutching a staff that Azazel had proudly presented her upon waking up. "I'll show you how it works when we get the chance," he'd promised before being chased out by Berith.

Shortly after that, it had been agreed that they needed to get their stuff from the inn. Paimon hadn't wanted to leave while Eli was still unresponsive, but being the least injured meant it was for the best. Though Tyri was next-least injured, she'd still been badly cut up by Mythica, which had led finally to their current choice of movement. They'd gotten pretty fast at it, though, and managed somehow to be inconspicuous among the conspicuous fear of Nua Port.

Gently, they stepped off of the floating street lattice and onto the marine-colored stonework of the land streets. This sidestreet wrapped around the shoreline at an angle, with a stone wall holding back the green hillside from collapsing across the road and into the sea. Paimon knew the route well. "Are you walking alright?" she asked jovially.

"I'm managing," Tyri said. She was beginning to ease into her own stride, leaning off of Paimon and onto her staff. She was still slightly unsteady, and it was early for her to be walking. "Paimon, there's-"

"Something we have to talk about, I know." Paimon said, walking slightly in front of her and not turning around. She supposed Tyri could see her life force either way, but she didn't want to face her right now. "Look, when I was twelve, my brother Seir and I snuck into one of the sea caves, where I accidentally broke his head open on the rocks. That should tell you everything you need to know. No, I don't need to talk with you about it. Primal Sense can't save dead ten-year-olds."

"I-" Tyri's voice splintered and stopped for a second, sounding hurt. "I know that. You don't have to remind me."

"Remind you? What do you," Paimon trailed off as she remembered Serion. How she'd snapped at Tyri when she hadn't been able to see anyone in the fire, and how she'd ended up pulling Lettie out of the burning house. The surprise on Tyri's face afterwards -- and the guilt.

Paimon stopped walking and stared at the ground. She heard Tyri stop behind her, silence filling the sidestreet. "I'm sorry," she said. "It's not your fault. This town sucks, is all."

"It's okay," she heard Tyri say. "We can -- Paimon, I think we're being followed."

"What?" Paimon abandoned her cold shoulder and spun around, looking past Tyri at the street behind them. There were fishermen coming up the wharf, bearing their loot from the fish market in large iceboxes on wheels -- none of them were looking their way.

"Are you sure you should look back at them?" Tyri asked worriedly. "They're getting closer."

"What do you mean? There's nobody," Paimon's breath caught in her throat as she saw a figure moving along the wall. "There's nobody there. Nobody."

"There is," Tyri insisted. The figure along the wall had its arms stretched out, careful not to fall.

"How do you know?" Paimon asked, her hands shuddering. "Can you see it's life force?"

For a second, Tyri's gaze felt piercing, as her Primal Sense bored right into Paimon's soul. "I can."

Paimon grit her teeth. "Don't move," she ordered. "Just stand right there and don't move."

Tyri looked worried, but it wasn't like she was in a condition to run, so she gripped her staff and stood stock-still. Paimon moved closer to her, bracing against the sight of the figure on the wall. Looking at it felt like a freezing wind was blowing over her, until she found herself holding Tyri's sleeve, then gripping her arm tightly, as though she could be washed away in the ensuing tide.

The golem tottered along on the wall, looking for all the world like a child on its way uptown. Paimon saw its marine-stonework body tiptoe atop the stone wall like a balance beam, waving its arms as it stumbled for a moment. As it regained balance, it dipped its head slightly, and Paimon could see the pearl-encrusted wound shining in its skull. For a second she thought it would hop off of the wall and walk towards her; after that, who knows what. But the golem -- the living creature -- passed her by, walking along the stone wall and out of sight. Paimon waited until she was sure it was gone, then waited five seconds more.

"It's gone," said Tyri.

Paimon sighed, then removed her hand from Tyri's arm. She could see the fear written into her face. Paimon smiled and wondered if her life force was faking the same gesture. "Let's keep moving."

The inn wasn't much further on, and the streets had gradually gotten less crowded as the sunset into the sea. Paimon walked up to the door with a grin that died when Tyri tugged her back. "There's a lot of people just behind that door," Tyri warned.

They darted behind the side of the inn just as the door opened, and two Synua guards in gold regalia stepped into the street. One of them held the door open as three more guards followed. "And remember, contact us if you see anything," he said, smiling politely. "Have a nice day."

Paimon and Tyri snapped against the wall as the Synua guards marched past, in loose step. Paimon poked her head out and watched them go until they turned a corner and headed up the street.

"They weren't carrying anything," Paimon whispered. "I think our stuff is still here."

"But aren't we the suspicious characters the innkeeper is watching out for?" Tyri looked doubtful. "Maybe we should break in through the window."

She blushed when Paimon looked at her in stunned silence. "Okay, I can tell you're surprised. It was just an idea."

"We have our room key. Let's just try and act like we belong," Paimon said.

"If you're sure." They took deep breaths and walked around the front and through the door. Paimon resisted the urge to hide her face in a suspiciously inconspicuous manner. The innkeeper was sitting behind a small desk, looking down at something under the table. She couldn't tell with her peripheral vision.

The stairs up to the bedrooms were at the end of the entrance hall. Paimon kept her walk steady. Just a little more. Just a little more-

"If you're looking for your items, the Synua guard already searched your room." The innkeeper didn't look up.

Paimon froze and turned around as naturally as she could. "I'm not sure what you're talking about."

"They told me to call for them if I see you," the innkeeper continued. He smacked his wrinkled lips, moving his hands slightly under the table. "You might have seen them on the way in."

"I see," Paimon said. The old innkeeper's words were like iron against her body. She levelled her voice and tried to say something else, but no words came out.

The innkeeper looked at them. "Of course, they didn't find anything in your rooms. I made sure of that." He then lifted Tabby out of his lap and placed him on the desk. Tabby mewed.

Relief smacked Paimon in the chest. "Oh goodness. Goodness, dear." She ran to Tabby with her arms outstretched. Tabby meowed again and jumped towards her. He landed on her face and scrabbled up on top of her head, then jumped off into Tyri's arms. Tyri staggered back in surprise as Paimon fell forward and smacked her chin on the innkeeper's desk.

"Thank you," Paimon mumbled. "And the rest of our stuff?"

The innkeeper scooted to the side and raised his foot, bringing it down on the end of a floorboard. The other end sprung up, revealing the crawlspace. "I put it in the 'mine until legally searched' compartment. Though, you can have it back."

Paimon grabbed the packs out of the crawlspace and hefted them across her back. She staggered for a moment before steadying herself against the desk.

"Thank you," Tyri said, stroking Tabby, who was nuzzling against her collar. "But what if the guard finds out?"

The innkeeper spat on the floor. "Fuck 'em."

Image


"Yep, he really said that," Paimon told Railyn as he rooted through his stuff. "What a legend."

"It's good to know that people don't like the Synua Guard either," Railyn agreed. "Underground, it was easy to feel alone in that fight." He finished rooting through his belongings and scribbled onto the paper Paimon gave him.

"We lost everything we took to the base," Bel said, upturning his pack with a frown. "We're still going to have a hard time breaking out." Tabby meowed agreement and curled up between his horns; Bel reached up to pet him absentmindedly.

"So we need a way to get more stuff," Paimon said. "Well, after seeing the Synua Guard looking for us too, we figured it was best if we don't leave the house." She passed the sheet from Railyn to Bel.

Bel took the page with some amusement. "Which is why we're making a shopping list for your dad."

"That's right," Azazel piped up, sitting criss-cross next to them. "Craftsmen tend to stick together, so I'll get you the best equipment, on the house."

Berith leaned in from the kitchen and shot them a glare. Paimon patted her dad's back. "Maybe not on this house, dad," she said. "We can compensate you whatever you need."

"Agreed," Bel said, finishing his list and passing it to Paimon. "That's everything, I think."

Paimon glanced at it. "I don't know what you mean by this squiggly square."

Bel may have blushed, it was hard to tell. "It's, um, a sword. See the -- know what, I'll dictate it to you."

"What about Eli?" Tyri asked. "We don't know what he needs."

"He needs blood," Paimon said flatly. "And sleep. And fewer broken bones. I'll write some other stuff down."

A few minutes later, Azazel was out the door, the shopping list clutched in his hand. "I'll be back before midnight," he promised, stepping jauntily down the road as the sun disappeared under the waves. The group watched him go, then shut the door.

"Think he'll be alright?" Bel asked.

"Well, he's been scammed a few times, but he generally knows the quality of goods," Paimon explained. "I'm sure it'll be fine."

"I meant with him going out like this." Bel pursed his lips. "If they find out your parents live here, it's only a matter of time before they come knocking."

"That -- that wouldn't happen," Paimon said firmly. "Anyway, my dad's the coolest. He'll be fine." She made sure her tone left no room for argument.

They all stood nervously in the hall before Berith caught them. "All of you except Paimon, lie back down," she ordered, holding a needle in her left hand. "Anyone with a negative blood type, I'd like to borrow something from you."
The hardest part of writing science fiction is knowing actual science. The same applies for me and realistic fiction.
  





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71 Days B.N.D


To their surprise, Bel was the one who volunteered. "I've given blood a few times in the past," he explained. "Honestly, one of my easier jobs."

A needle in his arm later, he was passed out on the dining room floor, with Berith walking away humming, holding a vial of blood between her fingers. "Paimon, help me with the transfusion," she commanded.

Paimon shrugged wearily and followed her back into the living room, which looked less and less like an actual home. Azazel had begun hanging staves from the ceiling in an attempt to keep Eli's healing process regulated at all times. They spun above the couch like a gnarled oak mobile, draping strands of green healing light across Eli's body. Another staff (inactive, Azazel promised) served as an IV stand for the saline waterskin, still connected into Eli's arm.

If the best medical attention in Nua Port was saving Eli's life, Paimon certainly couldn't tell. Eli's face was a cavern of black and blue, flesh cut, beaten, and swollen into something that hurt her to look at. His bandages soaked through by the hour, clinging to his ribcage as though his body had been carved away to bones. Paimon had turned him over a few times to change his wrappings, and the maze of brutal red lashes across his back never got easier to see. His left arm had been immobilized and bound to his chest, his broken collarbone cushioned as it healed. Looking closer, Paimon thought she could see a faint blue glow beneath his eyelids.

"He's got healing magic, hasn't he?" Berith asked, leaning down to uncouple the saline drip. "It's been working off of his subconscious, keeping his heart beating; he'd probably be dead without it. Shoo, cat."

"Don't be mean," Paimon said, reaching to pet Lady, who was sitting atop the couch, keeping guard. Lady deftly dodged the petting hand and settled down on Eli's lap. She padded about a bit slower, as though the toll of watching him nearly die was draining her physically.

Berith sighed. "I'll have to move it soon to change his bandages. Here, hold this." She gave Paimon the end of the IV drip and prepared her needle with the blood.

The viscous red blood drained out of the needle into Eli's arm. "It's not much, but it'll give his body the kick it needs," Berith claimed. "Now let's rewrap him before he loses it all again."

Paimon nodded and helped her mother roll Eli onto his side, with Lady jumping clear indignantly. As they did, Eli groaned softly, and Paimon's hands shot back to her sides. Berith looked back at her, annoyed. "He's still unconscious. Now help me get him turned or I'll kick you out of the medical school you ran away from."

Paimon snorted, unrolling the bandage and feeding it to her mother's hands. "You're not a medical school, mom."

"Oh, really?" Berith didn't even look up. "As I recall, you were the one begging me to teach you. You learned from the best there is."

"So I'm an elite doctor now, am I?" Paimon said, "Guess you have nothing more to complain about now."

"An elite doctor would unspool that bandage faster," Berith retorted. "So get to it."

Paimon fumbled at the end of the bandage, stewing in rage. "Maybe incompetence runs in the family," was all she managed to say.

Berith just scoffed in response, and Paimon's cheek gash began glowing with sunlike fury. Still, they managed to finish Eli's bandages in silence. It was a long process, so Paimon simmered quietly as she worked alongside her mother, re-immobilizing Eli's limbs and refilling his waterskin. By the time they were done, the moon had coated the harbor in milky light.

"We'll move on to the rest of your friends now," Berith said.

As the anger fizzled out, Paimon was left with heart-wrenching concern as she tended to her companions. Burn marks formed canyons across Railyn's torso, the shiny dead flesh coming away with the bandages. Paimon couldn't remove the splinters of wood from his side: Their wounds had been sealed shut, and taking them out would be to bleed Railyn all over again. His ankle splint was glowing -- ankle splints shouldn't glow.

Paimon was vaguely aware of somebody talking to her, a few words that sounded concerned, candid. She kept focused on cleaning their cuts, redressing them, and moving on before she thought too hard.

Her mother was tending to Ivern, carefully stitching his mouth back shut. "Fascinating," she murmured as Ivern's throat sputtered out a few embers that died in the air. The young dragon looked over at Railyn helplessly.

Berith moved on to Bel, working the wound in his shoulder closed. Stitches could only take it so far, though, as Bel's body would have to heal what was in between. Paimon finished Railyn's treatment and moved on to Tyri.

When Paimon had started learning medicine, her mother had told her about the state of mind she used to treat patients. "If you look at how horrible it is, at how much pain they have, you're never going to be able to help them," she'd explained. "Your job is to heal, not mourn."

Paimon was beginning to understand what her mother meant. And so she patched Tyri's legs in silence, a silence that only grew longer as she fumbled her wrappings again and again.

"There we go," she said eventually, standing up. "Now, all of you go to bed. Doctor's orders."

Berith folded her arms and sighed, while everyone else looked unsure for a second. Not waiting for an argument, Paimon picked up her bag and strolled out of the room, through the kitchen. On the other side of the kitchen, a sliding door opened to the backyard, which was just the sea. The Fel house had a small back porch (built by Azazel), with a small wooden bench (attempted and failed by Azazel, then bought in town by Berith and installed by Azazel). Paimon sat down on the bench and stretched out her legs, letting the waves lap at her feet. Setting her bag beside her, she drew out her green dragon pipe.

She'd just finished packing the sunweed when the door opened again, and her mother stepped out. Paimon looked up incredulously. "Am I being evaluated?" she asked.

"Of course not," Berith said, producing her own pipe, which had been bound back together. "Move over."

Paimon shrugged and moved her backpack off of the bench as her mother sat down. Berith tried striking a match with her hands, the sparks flying into the water. Her teeth gritted around the pipe as she kept trying, the flames dying in the salty mist of midnight tide. Eventually, Paimon produced a burning match of her own. "Need a light?" she asked.

Paimon and her mother lit their pipes and sat in the darkness, watching the waves move sluggishly along.

"You didn't use to smoke at home," Paimon commented.

"I still don't," Berith replied. "Just at the clinic. For your father's health."

"I thought he wanted you to quit for your own health."

"And he didn't want you to take it up. Anyways," Berith continued, "my attention's been diverted from the clinic now, hasn't it?"

Paimon scoffed. "Well, thanks for doing your daughter a favor."

"It wasn't that," Berith replied, then she leaned back and loosed a stream of tobacco smoke straight up. "You had patients that would have died if I hadn't helped. We doctors take an oath about that, you know." She rubbed her chin for a moment. "Or maybe you don't."

"Mom-"

"I know, I know, you're out exploring the world. Running from it, more like. I hope it's everything you dreamed."

Paimon dug her nails into her thigh. "I'm not just travelling. I'm not running anymore, Mom, there's -- there's this prophecy that I saw, this old man, this magic, I can't really explain it all clearly. I just know that it's somehow related to everything going on right now."

She glanced behind her at the house. "The others, they're a part of it, too. That's why I'm back here. I'm trying to do something bigger than just me."

Berith looked away, silent for a moment. Then she took a long drag of smoke and blew it away. "Who cares?"

When Paimon couldn't respond, she went on. "Who cares about your magic man, your friends, your prophecy. Is that supposed to entitle you to something?"

Paimon set her teeth on edge. "That's not what I meant."

"I'm ignoring the danger you brought to my doorstep because I'm a healer," Berith said. "It's not my first priority. But if doing all this in some world-saving quest makes you feel better about yourself--"

"That's not what I'm trying to do."

"Then I guess that makes it all worth it, doesn't it? This prophecy." Berith pulled the pipe from her mouth and spat a bit of tobacco into the waves.

Paimon sat in the darkness for a long while before speaking again. "I'm sorry," she said.

Berith scoffed. "I already know that. You ran away for six years because you're so, so, sorry. Maybe being our daughter wasn't a big enough prophecy for you."

"I said I'm sorry!" Anger flared through Paimon as she looked at her mother. "I failed you. There was nothing more I could do."

Berith grit her teeth and ground out the fire in her pipe. She put it down and turned to Paimon. "When, exactly, do you think you failed me? Because it wasn't when you killed Seir. That accident didn't make you not my daughter. You failed when you ran away. You think you chose not to be my daughter, but you're still my daughter. And a failure at that."

Paimon's eyes began to sting with smoke. "You know, it didn't feel like that for the last twelve years. Actually, ever since Seir was born."

Berith laughed, moving closer. "So you're blaming your brother now? Are you upset that he was talented, or that he died before you could surpass him?"

Paimon blinked. "Fuck you, Mom," she whispered.

"Sure," Berith replied as Paimon stood up. "You know, your father and I could never hate you for Seir's death. Unlike you, we're smarter than that."

Paimon wasn't listening. At least, she wanted not to listen. She wanted to step off of the porch and sink into the harbor, then curl up on the seafloor until her bones became a reef. Instead, she walked back into the house, and closed the door behind her.

The lights were off in the house, the waves lapping at the kitchen floorboards. Paimon didn't see the dining room, where her companions lay motionless and calm. Instead, she saw a small, fish-oil lantern, casting sickly light across the long, dark sea cave. She smelled the stagnant saltwater that pooled in between the rocks, and the dull echoing splash of the waves at the entrance. Normally she'd come here with Seir, letting him light the way with his magic as they explored. But today was different. Today she'd found something all her own.

"Paimon?" She turned around and saw a boy holding a staff, whose light obliterated that of her lantern. No, not just a boy.

"Seir," she said. "What is it?"

"I was looking for you," the boy said, hopping across the rocks. "Whatcha doing in here by yourself?"

"I-it's nothing," Paimon said, holding her hands behind her back. "I'm doing nothing."

"Come on," Seir insisted, marching up to her. "You have something. I wanna see!"

Paimon felt doubt creep through the cavern. "I don't know," she said.

"Pleeeeaase," begged Seir. "You always find the coolest stuff."

Paimon tried not to grin, and failed miserably. "Well, I guess I do. Look at what I just found!" she said, bringing it out from behind her back, holding it out in cupped palms. It was a crystal the color of pure air, with a clear aura fighting back the darkness of the cave and the light of Seir's staff. On a surface was a rune like a spiralling eye.

Paimon flashed back to reality, where she stood in the dark kitchen. Rising out of the kitchen floorboards was the rune golem. No, not a golem. Seir. She walked towards him.

Seir rose up, his torso and limbs forming from the wooden floor. His head was still broken open, a fiery coal bleeding his body. He looked at Paimon with an almost childlike curiosity.

Paimon dropped her hands to her sides. "I'm sorry."

Seir stared at her, and Paimon wondered if he even had the strength to hate her for what she'd done. Seir was just a child; there was no way of knowing what kind of person he was going to be. But all her fears were answered when Seir reached up and locked his hands around her throat.
The hardest part of writing science fiction is knowing actual science. The same applies for me and realistic fiction.
  








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