Despite Mkhai’s warning about the trio of Slayers she inadvertently stole the job from, Bellona’s night was as pleasantly isolating and quiet as she wished it could always be. She even took precautionary measures and used her magic to weld the door and its hinges immovably, and it remained completely intact and upright the following morning—no trace of tampering to be found inside or out. The satchel of tarin remained untouched, and her peace wasn’t disturbed in the slightest.
Her aching body longed for more sleep, and coupled with her apprehension with facing the city, she laid in bed a lot longer than she intended to. She rolled out long past sunrise only when the birds finally began to sing, and to avoid any more idling aimlessly quickly cleaned and dressed. While she had her cloak and a long-sleeved tunic, her clothing was made for the warmer climates she'd lived in. Briefly opening up the window in her room to feel how cold the air outside was, she thought twice about what she needed to do—the urge to remain close to the fireplace grew stronger with every gust of wind.
Despite it, she persisted.
She armed herself fully and left her room, locking the door behind her once more with magic, and walked down the spiral staircase to the floor below where only the embers of the firepit and the change in bartender were there to greet her. Before leaving the Hearth she ate a meager meal by the fire: goat meat stew and crisp honey bannock, wrapping up and saving a piece of the latter for later. Once she was fed, she donned her cloak and her mask, brandished Ironbark on her back, and slipped quietly out of the Hearth’s front doors.
Festivities from the night before had all dulled down by the morning, only drunken stragglers and tired vendors closing their stalls left on the streets. Even so, Bellona kept to the shadows as best she could in the morning sun. The feeling of being watched from the previous night was gone, but the paranoia was ever remaining. Not able to afford letting her guard down, she kept a close eye on her surroundings to make sure she wasn’t being tailed.
As she pulled into a familiar alleyway, she looked across the street at an old shop that was boarded up, signs of a struggle abundant in bent metal and snapped wooden beams. She paused to remember what had once been there: the smell of dough sweetened with clove, and a scruffy dog that was missing an eye. Laughter once came from inside that building, she remembered—a long, long time ago. Too long ago to remember faces or names, but not long enough for the pain to subside.
‘We were happy here once. Weren’t we, Bell?’
Bellona closed her eyes, breathed deeply in, and moved on without a word.
The city was cold but thankfully not as much as outside the walls, the cobblestone streets warmed from harnessing the volcanic activity below—melting most of the snow and keeping the temperature at a tolerable level. Even still, she shivered under her cloak, wishing she owned warmer garments besides a thin tunic and wide pants made of silk. As she continued, she passed an atelier with fur-lined attire in the window, remembering the fat purse of tarin she had stowed away safely in her room at the Hearth. Depending on how long her business kept her in Jinshi, she made a mental note to return if the need would arise.
She continued through the city until she was at its center, where she watched the sky brightening slowly behind the looming form of Jinshi’s Guardian. The fifty-foot statue, standing tall and proud at the risen center of the plaza, had her arms raised in a protective manner as she peered out to the mountain peaks beyond the gates. The people of Jinshi had named her Imos, Protector of the Sky Folk, and unlike the other Great Settlements where their Guardian stood guard at their entrance, those who came before built the city around her—so there was no citizen who didn’t feel safe, no matter where they happened to reside.
Bellona approached the square apprehensively, the empty plaza a strange sight when compared to her distant memories of fighting crowds in the very same place. Two staircases curved up and into each other from either side, cocooning a small waterfall fountain, where the water was heated in the same way as the streets and the steam that rose was said to have special healing properties.
“This used to be my favourite place in the whole city,” she spoke aloud as she started to climb a staircase, squatting briefly on one step and swirling her hand through the warm water, “Nothing else compared to the beauty and grace of you, O Holy Imos.”
No answer came, of course—after all, Imos was merely a statue of metal and stone. And yet she was so much more, like every Guardian that rose from the earth at the beginning of The End, with the power to shield and protect from Colossi.
A powerful, misunderstood magic, which was precisely what drew Bellona back to Jinshi in the first place.
She took her mask off and attached it to her belt, lowering her hood as she ascended the rest of the stairs to stand at Imos’s feet. The entire area was nearly covered in offerings, from trinkets and gold to the meager scraps one would starve to provide, all the way from the stairs to the risen platform she stood upon. The people here loved her greatly, and while everyone was under her graceful banner, they would feel protected and safe from the threats looming throughout the mountains.
However, the Guardians—born of an ancient and incomprehensible magic—had secrets. Most were not aware, certainly not the common people, that the magic Guardians bore inside of them could be tapped into. There was a common knowledge that Guardians were the shields of the Great Settlements and beyond, sure, but very few began to wonder how. Their magic was unlike anything that could be wielded by humankind, but for those who knew how to find it, could connect with it.
Bellona Creed, being one of those few, stared up at the Guardian’s face. The magic was there, she could feel it within the statue and the surrounding area, but it didn’t feel like it should. She was supposed to feel like a protector, a warm and calming presence, but all she felt like was poison.
“So it’s true,” Bellona whispered, “that even you…”
Imos’s magic suddenly snapped out at her and Bellona stumbled, her head heavy and sluggish. She steadied herself against the pedestal at the Guardian’s feet, but the moment her hand touched the cold stone, a voice began to bounce off of the walls in her mind—frantic and afraid.
HELP ME!
IT HURTS!!
PLEASE MAKE IT STOP!!!
She pulled her hand away but with it, her body felt limp. Bellona quickly pulled Ironbark and held herself upright with it, the fleeting moment of weakness passing not quickly enough as the voice still echoed within her depths.
“ARJBLINKA!”
At first she thought she was called out to by the same voice, but it came from behind, so she turned on her heels and held Ironbark out in front of her defensively. Then, she recognized where the new voice came from, and saw in the center of the square below stood a hooded figure—tall and lean, with fists curled tight. When she realized it was he who had shouted her wretched moniker, she aimed the head of Ironbark at him.
“Look,” she said, slowly pulling her mind together as the voice left its mark and disappeared, “if this is about me stealing your bounty, the Colossi attacked me. Was I supposed to just—”
Bellona paused as he drew his hood back, and when she saw his face, lost all train of thought—as she was faced with none of the Slayers from the other day. This was a boy she didn’t know, with hooded eyelids and high cheekbones—native Yuka features, the traditional people of the Outlands. His eyes were large but hidden behind round glasses, and his hair spiked with volume in tones of gray and black. Most of his clothes were hidden behind his ratted cloak, but guessing what Path the native Yuka followed was next to impossible anyway, if he followed any Path at all.
She tentatively lowered Ironbark, but kept a solid grip just in case their meeting wasn’t meant to be friendly after all. “Sorry. You’re not who I thought you were.”
The boy looked up at her with strength in his furrowed brows, which she would have mistaken for fury if not for her gut telling her that he meant no harm. He walked forwards, ascending up the stairs, and although Bellona still didn’t believe he was dangerous she backed up and kept Ironbark in front to maintain distance.
When he was on her level, he stood at one end of Imos’s pedestal while she stood at the other, the only thing between them her staff and a tight air of tension. He made no motion of any kind towards the Guardian, not even acknowledging her presence. The boy only stared Bellona down, taking deep breaths that made his chest rise slowly. Having her face exposed to him was a terrifyingly uncomfortable feeling, especially given his unwavering stare that she almost feared breaking.
“You’re the infamous Arjblinka, right?” he asked sternly, his pronunciation crude and uncertain, but correct nonetheless.
Bellona nodded in reply. “I am. What do you want?”
“The Arjblinka,” he continued, “Rumor has it that you massacred an entire army with a Tier 5 Colossi at your side. That you have mastery of the Path of Metal beyond even Lazarus Holt himself. That you served in the Usaelim—the Brigade of the Unseen—and then you wiped them all out.” The boy took a step forward, eyes determinedly staring into hers, but Bellona remained still. “You have great, immeasurable power within you. And I need it.”
An uneasy feeling rose in Bellona’s heart and she tightened her grip on Ironbark. The boy took another step forward, and when she didn’t move, the tip of the staff pressed against his chest. For a long and tense moment, nothing was said between them, and Bellona readied herself to knock him backwards and away.
But then he lowered himself to his knees, bowed as lowly as his body would let him, and then shouted, “My name is Teslin Aegis! Please, Arjblinka, be my Guide!”
Taken from Royal Road, this narrative should be reported if found on Amazon.
The wind whistled dryly in the midst of the awkward silence. Bellona, who had properly expected a fight right then, had no idea how to respond to what was being asked of her. No, demanded of her. To be a Guide was an honor, a privilege, something only asked of a Slayer from someone who trusted them and believed in them. If he’d believed even a single one of those rumors he spouted on about, he wouldn’t have considered her worthy of the task at all. Who was this boy, with the surname of the unclaimed children of The Outlands, to ask such a thing of her?
After some time, much too long a time, she answered. “No.”
He remained still as she lowered her staff and started to descend the stairs to the square. She didn’t dare look back, wanting to put the idea of being someone’s Guide behind her, but it was overwhelmingly puzzling that someone wanted her.
“Please, Arjblinka,” he continued, causing Bellona to stop in place, “you are the only one who can help me. There’s no one else here with a true mastery of the Path of Metal, and certainly no one who could take on a Tier 3 Colossi like it was barely a nuisance.”
So it’s you I’ve been sensing since I arrived, Bellona thought, turning back to see he still remained in his bowing position. He didn’t move a muscle, not a twitch nor even a look, and she couldn’t decide if it meant he was desperate or stubborn. Likely both.
“I’m not the person you want teaching you,” she admitted, covering her face with her hood as she continued descending the stairs, “and there are others in this world who would be willing to take you on.”
He remained bowed, but his voice intensified. “You don’t understand, I’m—”
Something suddenly whizzed by Bellona’s cheek, cutting a tear into her hood. She raised Ironbark once she heard it and knocked the object out of the way before it impaled Teslin. He lifted his head as he heard the clang of the object hitting Ironbark, and quickly scrambled to his feet As it clattered to the ground, Bellona lowered her hood and looked over her shoulder, making eye contact with the golden-haired Slayer that stood on the other side of the square—the one who’d stood in her way when crossing the Giant’s Tether the day before.
About goddamn time.
She sighed. “I assume you want your money back?” Bellona shouted to him, walking down to the square and picking up what she’d deflected with Ironbark: a simple metal throwing star, with a piece of red cloth attached to one point. “Let’s go back in time, then, and I’ll just assume that the dangerous Colossi is spoken for and just leave.”
“The money is of little concern to me, it’s the principle of the matter,” the man said in a cool, smooth voice, “it’s uncouth for a Slayer to steal from a comrade.”
“I don’t call people comrade so lightly.”
He clicked his teeth. “All Slayers share a bond of camaraderie that—”
Bellona interrupted and threw the metal star back at him, but he was quick to react, and a yellow magic circle spread from his hand and the star redirected back at her. She blocked it with her staff easily enough, and he’d shown his cards—but it only showed her just how annoying the fight ahead was going to be and nothing more.
“No, you see,” she continued, flipping the staff around in her hand, “just because we all serve under the same banner doesn’t mean we’re all on the same side. You call me comrade, yet you attack me while my back is turned. Get my drift?”
The man squinted at her and readied another star. “So what? You won’t honor the fact that the job was mine and give back what you shouldn’t have taken?”
“I thought you said the money didn’t matter to you?”
He growled in response and Bellona flexed her fingers around Ironbark as she readied herself to fight, but in an instant, Teslin was standing between them, his hands raised as he faced the man. “You’re making a mistake, sir!” he said, “This is the Arjblinka, the most powerful Metal Slayer since Lazarus himself! It’s a fight you cannot win.”
She scoffed. Who the hell even is this guy?!
The golden-haired man mirrored her thoughts. “And who the hell are you, then?”
“I’m her Apprentice!”
“Like hell,” she continued, pulling Teslin behind to face the man herself, “but he is right about what he said before. You won’t win this fight, but you’re more than welcome to try.”
And just like that, the man accepted her proposal with the throw of his star. She dodged this one and pushed Teslin down with her, the boy stumbling to the side while narrowly avoiding the attack with her. She stood in front of him defensively—not out of any allegiance but her own will to bring none to harm. It was a miracle the throwing star didn’t impale him, and just because he was expecting the impossible of her didn’t mean she wouldn’t allow him her bare minimum.
“Get out of here!” She spoke to Teslin in an authoritative tone, gesturing away. He just stared at her, not a word from his lips, and she wondered if Teslin was too frightened to move. She caught a glimpse of the man’s throwing star she’d dodged coming right back at her, completely clearing Teslin with a curve and aiming for her head. She turned just in time for it to fly right past her again, just missing the ends of her hair, and back into the man’s hand.
“You will pay for this dishonor, Arjblinka,” the man hissed through grit teeth, “be it in coin or in blood!”
He threw again, and this time Bellona knocked it down with her staff. He was fast, but she was faster, and lunged herself forward, staff aimed for his chest. He blocked with his arm and swiped at her with another star—this one bigger and likely meant specifically for close-range combat. She blocked it with her staff as well, and was met with a rather surprised expression that it didn’t cut right through it.
“Wait, it’s—”
Bellona tapped her staff with a flick of her finger, a loud clang registering that it wasn’t made of wood like its appearance suggested, but metal. She knocked the star back and tried to trip him, but he was quick to move out of the way and tried to slash down, which she blocked and hurriedly turned her staff downward for the butt end to connect with his jaw. It hit wonderfully and he was knocked backwards, disoriented from the blow to the head for a moment. However, he followed it up quickly as his magic circle reappeared and a great amount of stars left his pouches and floated into the air, forming a person-sized tornado.
They all blew her way at once, much too many to block and much too quickly to dodge. Her only course of action was to jump out of the way, and although she figured that was what he wanted her to do, she had no choice. However, before she could, Teslin once again put himself in front of her. It was in a split second and there was nothing she could do to stop him, but he had abandoned his cloak and was able to block all of the stars in front of her with what looked like a metal shield on his arm.
No…not a shield. Magic?
Teslin wielded no weapon, but his arm had been encased in a dark ore; shards, plates, and crystal-like growths protruded from his arm and provided sharp edges, but also a thick and tricky layer of protection. It had grown easily to twice the size of his arm, but the faint shape of his hand was visible at the end and as he curled his fingers in, Bellona knew it was his own doing. It was his magic.
She blocked the remaining stars he redirected by turning quickly and running them through with Ironbark, some of them flying the way of Imos’ statue and ricocheting off of her. The man growled in anger at their effective defense and continued to produce what seemed like an endless amount of stars, pulling ones she’d blocked and reaiming them towards her. Bellona kept her back to Teslin and took down the stars from one side, while he used his arm to deflect those on the other.
“He’s using wind magic to control the stars!” Bellona shouted. “He’s probably got a range he can control them within, so try to knock them as far away as possible!”
Teslin nodded in understanding and put more effort into knocking the stars out of range, but it left his torso open and vulnerable and a couple stars sneaked through, one cutting his side and another piercing his chest. Bellona couldn’t block all the stars either, the flurry becoming too much for even her to handle, and a few snuck through Ironbark and clipped her shoulder and legs.
We need to get offensive if this is going to end, she thought, trying to quickly look for an opening. None of the ones being deflected were getting anywhere near him, his wind magic protecting simply redirecting anything that got within a certain range. If she was going to take him down, she had to get back up close.
However, as Bellona reached for Teslin’s arm to try and pull him back, a familiar voice echoed through the square.
“Bax! That’s enough!”
Suddenly, the stars halted in the air, one of them barely an inch from Teslin’s eye. Bellona watched as the other two Slayers from the other day ran towards the man, weapons drawn in front of them. The Water-weaver stood in front of him, rapier pointed at his chest, while the Earth-turner had his sword in his back.
“What the hell are you doing?” she shouted, her expression showing more worry than anger, “This behavior is unbecoming of the Slayer profession! We don’t fight each other, that’ll only draw the Colossi in!”
He grit his teeth and growled with a step forwards, but the girl remained steadfast. “We don’t steal jobs from each other, either, but she waltzes into our city and does whatever she pleases?! And I’m just supposed to take that?!”
In the moment of stillness she finally had, Bellona finally took notice of signs she’d been too distracted to notice before. The man’s pupils had almost overtaken his blue irises, his veins were a dark purple and protruding from his neck beyond the collar of his overcoat, and his hands were shaking quite fiercely. With how he snapped at his comrade, almost foaming at the mouth in rage, Bellona was certain she couldn’t continue this any further.
As she sheathed Ironbark, she placed a hand on Teslin’s back. “He’s consumed Colossi flesh,” she muttered.
Teslin looked over his shoulder at her, brows raised. “Colossi flesh? What does that have to do with anything?”
Bellona nodded in the wind-waver’s direction. “Do you see how he’s practically rabid? Consuming the flesh of Colossi boosts magic power and enhances the senses—”
“—But it can also poison the mind and drive you mad.”
The Water-weaver looked back at the two of them as she spoke, a solemn look on her face. Bellona knew that look well, and it told her that this whole scenario was a much bigger problem than she was in the mood to deal with. She wasn’t their friend, whatever problems the man they called Bax was going through, it wasn’t her concern. What he’d said was true enough, that Colossi Slayers were generally considered brothers in arms, but Bellona had earned her Coil young and had learned that she had no comrades even younger.
As she started to walk away, Teslin started after her, calling her Arjblinka. “Wait! Where are you going? We have to he—”
“We aren’t doing anything. The fight is over, I’m leaving.”
“But what about—”
“And I’m not becoming your Guide!”
Suddenly, magic struck Bellona’s insides like a whip, the sting of a festering rot shooting through her entire body. At first she wondered if there was something tainting Bax’s weapons that had snuck its way into her system, but that particular magic felt too familiar. As her legs buckled from under her and she fell to her knees on the warm tile, she looked up to Imos, and for a moment saw a flash of a figure standing at her feet.
“Arjblinka! You’re dead!”
Bax was struggling against the other two Slayers, and as he fought to find an out between two swords, the throwing stars that had all fallen to the ground were shaking and rising back into the air. Even those she thought to be out of his range rattled and rose. Bellona barely registered what was happening, her vision blurring as she looked up to the visage of the Guardian, swearing she could see the statue’s face cry.
Teslin called out desperately for her, Bax screamed a visceral cry of fury, and as the stars all shot out towards her, the pain from the magic hit its peak—and her eyes rolled back into her head.