Bellona awoke to the wind howling in the distance, a cold sweat soaking her brows and matting her roots. She wished not to wake, to remain nonexistent for a little while longer, but the same voice that echoed in her mind upon passing out also plagued the end of her dreams and startled her to rise. She sat up to find she had been tucked into a bedroll on the floor, a sheepskin blanket overtop of her to keep her warm. Her cape was folded neatly beside her and her mask sat on top of it, and Ironbark rested against the wall nearby. Wiping beads of sweat from her brow, Bellona looked around, unsure of where she’d ended up.
She was still in Jinshi—that much she could tell, from the metal beams and window dressings and the snow blowing in from gaps where glass once was. But a quick glance around the room told her it was some sort of abandoned home, one that had probably been quite nice once upon a time. What little furniture that was left was either decrepit or covered white sheets, with a layer of visible dust atop them.
Emerging from the bedroll, Bellona twisted her Slayer Coil between her fingers as she stood and stepped through a broken window, out onto the veranda. The sun was setting in the distance over the mountain peaks, hiding behind winding trees and lighting the snow in a pretty orange color. The house’s structure was built around a large courtyard in a traditional Yuka fashion, and in the center of the courtyard was a large tree with deep pink petals and berries scattered about on top of the untouched snow.
A Wintermint tree, Bellona thought to herself as she reached down and picked up one of the berries, twirling it between her fingers. It was a type of tree that only grew in the mountains, rare and resilient, and just three of its fist-size berries were as filling as a large meal. A most perfect food for survival when there’s little else.
Across the courtyard she noticed a light flickering behind one of the paper panels, so she followed the veranda around until she began to smell something delicious in the air and her stomach growled in protest of being rather empty. She hid behind the wall and peered around the corner, watching as the boy from the square—Teslin Aegis, he’d said—stirred something in a large pot over a wood stove. His frame felt smaller than it did back then, the metal on his arm still there but much less pronounced, but he had wide shoulders to make up for it. He still had an air of a protector about him, though, like a literal human shield.
“Good morning, sunshine. Care for a bite?”
Bellona hadn’t realized she was staring, but it was long enough for Teslin to notice she was there. She raised her head and he was looking back with a smile, wisps of his gray and black hair shadowing his dark eyes. There was something so familiar about the scene in front of her, but familiarity had never bred her any happiness.
“I, uh…” She didn’t know what to say to him, whether to thank him or blame him. “What happened? And where am I?”
Teslin turned back to his cooking. “Well, you fainted. Then that Slayer—Baxmus, I think they said—broke free from his companions and tried to attack you again.” He lifted his metal-clad arm and showed that his hand had been crudely wrapped in strips of cloth, which were nearly bleeding through. “And once they got a proper hold of him, I brought you back to my place to make sure you would stay safe.”
“You stopped him with your bare hands?”
He said nothing, so Bellona stepped from around the corner and stood next to him, eyeing the ingredients and taking a deep but subtle inhale of the smell. “My answer is still no,” she said, trying not to look at his injured hand, “just because you put yourself in the middle of that fight doesn’t mean I owe you anything.”
Teslin shrugged as he poured the contents of the pot into a wooden bowl, holding it out to her with a sheepish smile. “Maybe my superb cooking skills will change your mind?”
She took the bowl and examined the chili inside, her stomach growling in hunger. “Why did you bring me here and not the Hearth?”
“Oh, definitely so you could see that I live in an abandoned house and feel bad enough for me that you’d take me on as your Apprentice.”
Bellona squinted. “I don’t. You’ve got enough Wintermint berries to survive, clearly.”
Teslin smiled. “They get boring after a while. But I brought you here because the other Slayers said they needed to detox him, and they didn’t want to risk him breaking out of it to hurt you. Especially while you’re unconscious.”
She nodded in understanding and walked back out onto the open veranda, sitting down facing the courtyard with her feet dangling just above the snow below. She took a spoonful of the chili and blew on it tepidly before consuming it, the immense flavors both comforting and exciting to the tongue. However, she didn’t want Teslin to think he was any closer to changing her mind, so she ate slowly, watching the wind pick up petals in its passing touch and blow them her way.
Soon after, Teslin sat next to her with his own bowl of chili, legs crossed. Bellona looked over and caught herself eyeing at the wrappings around his palm, forcing herself to look away before she began to stare again.
“Why do you want to be my Apprentice?” she suddenly asked, stirring her spoon absentmindedly through beans and peppers.
For a long moment the pair were silent, so long in fact that Bellona started searching Teslin’s face for the answer he didn’t seem to want to give. Who was he to be so mysterious and strange? That was her job.
After some time, he finally said, “You didn’t use magic on Baxmus.”
Not understanding where he was going with his point, Bellona simply continued to eat and replied, “I don’t use magic on people. Just Colossi.”
“And yet you held your own just fine against his magic.”
There it is.
“Ah, I see,” Bellona sighed, setting the bowl down beside her, “if it’s power you’re after, I won’t help you.”
“No, that’s—” Teslin suddenly placed his hand on her wrist, not holding her back, but making it known that he wanted her to stay, “—that’s not why I want to be your Apprentice. If what I wanted was power, I could have left Jinshi and sought out any other Metal Slayer. But that’s not what I need.”
Bellona had always found prolonged eye contact uncomfortable, but she held it with him, searching for the truth in his eyes. “And what is it that you need?”
His expression was unwavering. “I need to get this under control,” he replied, lifting his metal-clad arm, “so I don’t hurt people. So I can protect them.”
His magic, it’s not…
“So, your magic is consuming you, and you think I’ll be able to help you stop it.”
“If you can’t, then nobody can.”
Teslin’s eyes were full of pain, a particularly insidious kind that Bellona understood. Rejection, burdening, fear. The more she searched his eyes, the more familiarity she found in them. They reminded her of memories bittered with time, and all she wanted to do was look away, but she was also afraid to do so—the reality outside of his gaze somehow worse.
“I’m sorry,” she finally spoke after another moment of silence, “Protecting others isn’t something I’m able to teach.” She stood up and pulled away from Teslin’s touch, leaving him to head back to where he’d left her things.
“Wait!” he shouted, scrambling to his feet and spilling the contents of the bowl she’d left on the floor, “I can’t just give up! Please, I’ll do anything you ask! My life will be yours!”
She only stopped moving after he finished speaking, but she wouldn’t turn around, not able to face the truth she had found in his eyes. “I’ve never wanted anyone’s life. Taken, or given. Find someone else.”
⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻ ۞ ⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻⎻
As hard as Teslin pushed and pleaded, Bellona remained steadfast in her decision and left without another word on the matter. She thanked him for the meal and made sure she had all of her things before she left his broken abode, taking note of how far out of the main city he had dragged her. He tried to chase her down, but she shared some colorful words in one of her darker tones, making sure he understood the consequences of pushing her too far.
She couldn’t get his magic problem out of her head, however, and it consumed her thoughts as she made her way back through the city to the Hearth. Metal magic was the most powerful of all Paths, but that power came at a hefty cost—one that a Servant usually paid after a long time. He was still so young, so why his magic was acting up so quickly and already eating away at him was the real mystery.
In any case, if he didn’t get it under control, it would certainly kill him.
Checking every once in a while to make sure Teslin wasn’t following her, she made her way back to the Hearth in good time, the festival continuing on as brightly and loudly as it had the night before. There was a small parade in front of the Hearth and a lot of kids sat on the steps watching, but luckily none of them paid her any mind as she arose. When she made it to the front doors, she opened one slowly and peered inside, listening for any noise from Baxmus’ detox. However, the Hearth was unexpectedly silent, and when she slipped inside it looked as if it was any other ordinary night. Mkhai, upon seeing her arrival, waved her over as he poured a fresh ale.
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“Look who’s still alive,” he greeted with a chuckle, sliding the stein over to where she decided to sit.
“So you heard,” Bellona replied, taking a long swig of the drink.
“How could I not, with that boy screaming his head off for most of the day as his friends tried to clear his system of the flesh. Screaming bloody murder, most of it consisting of the words Arjblinka and kill.”
“Is he okay now, then?”
Mkhai shrugged. “They used another toxin to force the contents of his stomach out, and once he’d calmed down, he passed out. He’s been out cold for a couple hours now.”
Bellona swished the ale around in the stein, stealing a glance towards the upper levels where the rooms were. A part of her wondered whether Baxmus was actually that upset about the job or whether it was the Colossi flesh heightening his anger. The only reason for such a major sense of competition would be if there was a shortage of work in the area, but given what she now knew to be true, they should be having the opposite problem. Perhaps it was just a matter of pride, of which Bellona understood to a degree.
“By the way,” Mkhai interrupted her thoughts, “how fares the rumor mill?”
A timely question, all things considered. She shot him a slight glare, annoyed at how he'd somehow managed to read her thoughts. “It’s…unsettling, that's for sure. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
“I’ve been wondering what kind of rumors would prompt your return,” Mkhai mused as he leaned against the back of the bar, “does it have something to do with the current lapse in Colossi sightings?”
She thought she heard him wrong at first. “A lapse in Colossi sightings?”
Mkhai nodded. “Why do you think I warned you about that trio pressing you about taking their job? There just aren’t enough to go around right now.”
Bellona said nothing at first, weighing what she wanted to divulge. “Normally that would be considered a good thing, no? So the city could employ Slayers for upkeep and maintenance jobs instead without the risk of being needed elsewhere?”
“Normally, yes. But the city isn’t employing them. Says they need to be on alert in case the situation changes. So for now, they take literally any job they can get, or they leave.”
Bellona rolled her eyes and took another swig of her drink. She knew exactly where that thought process was coming from, who was in charge of it, and the lengths it would take to have their mind changed. If necessary, anyway—perhaps the decline in Colossi truly was a good thing for the city.
But she doubted it.
She fell silent for a little while, slowly downing her ale while her thoughts raced. It didn’t make sense—the Colossi situation, combined with the way she’d felt connected to Imos’ magic. A Guardian’s power was supposed to feel warm, calming, and revitalizing. Even for most who couldn’t properly tap into their power, they should have a feeling of safety and security under them. Not to mention the voice in Bellona’s head while they were connected. She couldn’t explain that away, knowing yet refusing to acknowledge where that voice came from and who it belonged to.
Suddenly, a hand slammed down on the bar next to her, and she knocked over her stein of ale in fright. She made a noise of disappointment and looked to her left, and saw the determined stare of one Teslin Aegis.
“Why you—” There were so many words she wanted to say to him, but she got sidetracked trying to figure out just how he’d managed to sneak up on her yet again. She unsheathed Ironbark, stuck one end under his jaw, and tilted his head back as she stood clenching the edge of the bar. “I thought I told you not to follow me anymore, or else.”
“And I told you that I won’t give up on asking.” He stretched his fingers, slyly calling attention to the wrappings around the wound, likely to make her feel bad about being the cause of it. Too bad it wouldn’t work, although she looked down and noticed he had started to bleed through them.
“Oh, would you look who it is,” Mkhai interrupted, grabbing the now empty mug and placing it aside to clean off the bar, “Young Mister Teslin. What business do you have with the Arjblinka, Miss Bellona Creed, here, hm?”
Bellona shot Mkhai a glare. The older man’s voice having hints of suggestion in his tone was one thing, but outright saying her given name without a thought to why she kept it private was a whole other problem.
“I, uh,” Teslin stuttered, his fluster slightly amusing but a little surprising, “I intend to be taken on as her Apprentice.”
Bellona pulled back and rested Ironbark down against the bar. “Like hell you will.”
Mkhai ignored her mumbles and burst into obnoxious belly laughter, slamming a newly poured mug of ale in front of Bellona. “My boy, is this some new form of self-destruction? Why not just drink and gamble your days away like everyone else? Seeking a quick end to your life?”
Teslin looked her way as if looking for an explanation, but despite her annoyance at the insinuation of her presence being harmful, she wasn’t going to dispute the joke if it scared him off. She raised her brows and drank without a word, avoiding his gaze and the uneasiness she felt when looking in his eyes.
“No sir,” Teslin replied, not looking away, “I need her. Only her. No one else will do. Whether she likes it or not, she is the one for me.”
Bellona slammed her stein down and reached for Ironbark again, envisioning thrusting it straight through Teslin’s nose. “I said no! And stop talking about this like it’s a damn proposition of marriage!”
As Mkhai laughed even louder than before, raising the attention of everyone else in the Hearth, she wanted to sink lower and lower until she was buried deep within the floor and no longer steeped in the awful embarrassment. Teslin had only made her acquaintance that day but he had already garnered her more attention than she cared for in a lifetime. The older man began pouring another mug of ale as he bellowed, which made Bellona drink hers faster, but he shoved it into Teslin’s hands instead of hers, much to her dismay.
“Oh, my boy, let’s have a drink and toast to your risky behavior! I’m sure it won’t be too painful of an undertaking.” Mkhai shot Bellona a suggestive look as he spoke, which she returned with rolling eyes and a scoff.
Teslin took a seat at the bar next to Bellona eagerly, eyeing her as she worked desperately hard to avoid looking his way at all. Maybe, she thought, if she didn’t look at him he would disappear. A foolish notion, but so far it was her only hope—at least, until he offered her his mug for a cheer. She looked at it, then him, but said and did nothing else until he got the hint and just drank it—all of it, in one long swig.
“Wow,” Teslin said after clearing his throat loudly, “that was some of the finest ale I’ve ever had! I need another!”
“Sure thing, kid, but you’ve gotta pay up for the first one you just downed.”
Teslin smiled simply. “Oh, I don’t have any money! I’m dirt poor!”
Bellona side-eyed Mkhai, waiting for the older man to either throw him out or demand payment forcefully. He was a kind man, but he didn’t mess around when it came to taking care of the Hearth or making sure he was paid for things upfront and in full. However, he instead just smiled back and winked.
“Well then,” he replied, “how ‘bout we put it on your new Guide’s tab, eh? She made plenty of gold the other day to cover it all.”
Bellona tried to protest to this, but Teslin cheered loudly as Mkhai poured another drink, and the Slayers lounging around inside seemed to gather around the noise. Teslin welcomed them all and began to socialize like he was one of them, drinking to his heart’s content. Mkhai seemed to egg him on every now and again, offering drinks to himself and the Slayers all around him, and by the time Teslin had announced that everyone in the Hearth has earned a round of drinks on him, Bellona had had enough of them both—and everyone else, for that matter.
The Hearth buzzed with delight and good cheer for hours following, a slew of drunken merry songs erupting as one man danced and nearly broke one of the tables while doing so. Teslin fit right into the joyous scene, but an uncomfortable Bellona retreated to her room and took one of the tomes from the Hearth’s library with her. As the night flitted away, she sat on her bed and regaled herself in Guardians of The Veil as written by one Ivaran Hojor while she did her best to ignore the loud jeers and songs from below the floorboards.
When she finished reading the book and went to bring it back downstairs to the library, she found that the festivities from before had come to a mild simmer; a couple Slayers sat chatting, but most were either passed out or had retreated to their rooms for the night. Teslin, however, was seated at the bar with Mkhai—but he hardly seemed coherent and on the verge of blacking out himself. Bellona put the book back on its shelf before approaching, looking around at the mess of empty tankards and goblets and wondering exactly how much of it was on her tab.
“He’s a good kid,” Mkhai greeted her, motioning down to Teslin who had begun resting his head on the bar and mumbling incoherently to himself, “you should take him on. It’ll probably do you some good to have someone on your side for once.”
Bellona sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. “He wants me to teach him how to protect the people he cares about. I can’t pretend like I know how to do that.”
“You know perfectly well how to protect others. You’re just afraid to fail.”
Bellona scoffed. “I’m not the kind of person he thinks I am. The person he wants to become. I can’t teach him to be what I don’t know how to be. I’m not fit to Guide anyone.”
“You don’t know why that’s his goal, do you?” Mkhai leaned forward against the bar and stared at Bellona with such seriousness that it froze her in place. Surely, she thought, there was nothing he could say that would come close to changing her mind. It was steeled and stubborn, and her mind had been completely made up on the matter.
“He’s a survivor of the Urisees Massacre.”
Bellona’s breath hitched in the hollows of her throat as horrid memories flooded her mind; blood-matted chunks of fur, the smell of burning flesh, screams so shrewd they nearly broke windows all on their own. Her skin seared and itched from the ghost of her past, and when she gazed down upon Teslin, familiarity finally had a face.
And a voice that echoed in the depths of her mind.
Bell, please...just kill me.
She didn’t say anything for a long while, unsure if she could even muster a single word. Instead she walked up beside Teslin and picked up his injured hand, noting how desperately it needed to be changed—why didn’t he change it before he bled everywhere? Before it got infected? Was he that much of a glutton for punishment? Or did he just not have the supplies to? He did say he had no money, after all.
Snaking his arm around her shoulder, Bellona held him in place and picked him up with her other arm, the alcohol on his breath staggering for a moment as he murmured noises and broken words. Mkhai reached out to help, but stopped himself as Bellona rested Teslin’s weight on her own, making sure his glasses weren’t going to fall off before she turned him and started on her way to the rooms upstairs.
“I can’t Guide him,” she called back to Mkhai, “I won’t.”
She couldn’t see the smile on his face, but she felt it in his words. “There is no one better suited than you, even if you don’t see it.”