Selerim let out a breath as he looked down at the small flame in his hand, unable stop the wonder that the sight brought with it. It was a tiny, fragile thing, hardly more than an ember.
But it was something. His dagger clattered to the ground, blade warped many times over as he cupped the fire in both hands; a side effect of his fiery blood.
No matter.
There were more pressing matters at hand.
Just this alone had taken nearly two hours. Partially due to inexperience, but partially by design. Selerim had no real control over these strange flames; and one of the first things he’d done was burn Viria. Badly.
And another time, they’d tried to incinerate her, guided by some… presence that he couldn’t explain. That was another reason he’d decided to start small. A small part of him still worried it would rear its ugly head, but so far, that fear had proven baseless.
It was still possible it would seize control in a more dire situation, but somehow, Selerim knew that it wouldn’t. It was instinct, rather than conscious thought— but in some ways, that was easier to trust.
His people, aside from perhaps Gwyn, were one completely removed from magic. Their Feast was something else entirely; a physical change. Something to temper their bodies, not their minds. No matter what, those flames were his, now. A part of him. What remained was just a faint memory, now turned to ashes by the very flames that carried it.
What now? Selerim asked himself. The small, pale red flame burned steadily above his palms. Heat spilled from its meager form, warming his hands. After a brief pause, he clenched both hands shut.
The small flame winked out of existence. He felt it as it extinguished, echoed across some small part of his psyche. That might be useful later.
But it would have to wait until then. The mage— Suli— had allowed him to take first watch, but he knew she was still hesitant. He was more than willing to keep watch the entire night, but that would no doubt draw her ire. It was hard to blame her. He was the one wearing a mask, after all.
Selerim grimaced. He bore her no ill will; quite the opposite. Her suspicion stemmed from a place of care, not malice. He could appreciate that— but the staff she carried brought back painful memories.
He jumped as Nyx soundlessly lighted on his shoulder. “What is it, girl?” She wouldn’t have returned like this without reason. The duskwing let out a series of small, soft cries. Reavers. Six. No Titan. Four days away.
Selerim closed his eyes, trying to decide what to do. He knew this would happen— it was part of why he was here to begin with— but he’d assumed either the merchants or mercenaries would have some way of detecting Reavers.
Either they didn’t, or Nyx was simply better. He knew which was more likely. The mercenaries weren’t stupid.
I’ll decide tomorrow. There was still ample time. If no one caught on by nighttime, he would raise the alarm. How he would do that was a worry for later.
Selerim collected his mask from the ground, then the dagger. Its blade was warped and bent. Unusable. For a moment, he considered trying to bend it back into shape, but quickly discarded that idea. He was no bladesmith. And even if he were, he had injured himself enough for one night.
Instead, the hollow drew his arm back— and hurled it as far as he could. The dull metal blade wobbled as it flew threw the air, the instability no doubt caused by its uneven edge. He lost track of it as it sailed deeper into the forest.
Once again, the mercenaries weren’t stupid. They would notice what happened to his dagger sooner or later. Better to avoid the questions that would come with that observation. It was no huge loss, but he would need another. Preferably one more durable.
Selerim coaxed Nyx onto his hand, fetching a scrap of meat from his pack. She took it in her pitch-black beak, swallowing it whole. “Thanks, girl,” he whispered, caressing her silky feathers. “Watch over me.”
His Wyrd vanished.
He took a breath before pulling the mask’s hood back over his head. The fabric had stretched somewhat during the first day of travel, creating just enough give to keep the mask from pressing up against his face. It was easier to wear, now, and easier to breathe.
It only took Selerim a few minutes to make his way back to camp. The road they traveled was a wide one, but clearly worn in by constant use rather than built. Still, it was more than wide enough for the three carriages they guarded.
Those sat in the middle of the road, still. The merchants were nowhere to be seen. Are they sleeping in one of the carriages? That seemed the only logical explanation. The mercenaries’ camp was off to the side of the dirt trail.
Rase and Suli slept in their own bedding, while Tasha slept in the arms of the large warrior, Naru. Out of all of them, she struck Selerim as the strangest. He thought her to be around Gwyn’s age. That was young, even for a hunter from Cress. She clearly bore some relation to the large man, but that only served to make things even more confusing.
Suli’s words whispered into his ear unbidden. Everyone out here has their own circumstances. She’d treaded into his—he would avoid doing the same.
Selerim hesitated, trying to decide who to wake. He’d taken over for Rase; taunting the man with the promise of sleep seemed cruel, and waking Naru meant waking Tasha as well. That left Suli.
image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]
“Suli.”
She stirred awake at the sound of her name. Only darkness greeted her as she opened her eyes. It would have been just as dark back home, but it seemed more pervasive here, somehow. More real.
Suli instinctively reached for her staff, nestled under the covers with her, then thought better of it. Best not to wake the others.
Instead, she wove a simple spell. Even that made her groan. A small light glowed to life— bringing the smooth mask that Ember wore into view.
They flinched at the same time. Her, from the sight of his mask, and he at the sudden bright. That confused Suli for a moment, until she realized he carried no light. How can he even see?
“What is it?” She asked, sitting up and reaching for her staff. It was clearly nothing urgent; else he would have woken the others as well.
“It’s time to switch,” Ember replied softly. “I can keep watch for the night, if you’d like.”
For a moment, Suli was tempted to accept his offer— but she knew it wasn’t right. “No,” she said, shaking her head as she stood. “It’s all of our jobs.” She paused, then added guiltily, “I’m sorry. For what I said earlier.”
“You had nothing to do with it.”
“Even so,” she took a breath. “I said it myself. Everyone has their own circumstances. I shouldn’t have used that against you. It’s not fair.”
“If you’re saying this because you don’t want me to cause problems…”
“No,” Suli shook her head. “It just wasn’t right. That’s all there is to it.” She yawned, still trapped by sleep’s inviting grasp.
“Would you mind staying up for a few minutes?” She asked quietly. “I’m going to make some tea.” It would help her keep warm while on watch. “And…”she paused, considering her next words.
This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.
“… I’d like to get to know you a bit better. Only if you’re comfortable with it. If we were going to clash, we would have by now. So it looks like we’ll be working together for the foreseeable future.” Suli paused. “We don’t have to be the best of friends, but we should know who’s fighting at out sides.”
Ember fell silent for a moment. “Alright,” he finally said. He seemed unbothered by the cold. Some enchantment on his cloak, perhaps?
Suli peered at the deep black fabric. Even in the light of her spell, it seemed unnaturally dark. As if it were swallowing the meager glow. He doesn’t seem like a mage, though.
She didn’t have the same experience as Rase, Naru, or even Tasha, but even she could tell that the man before her was well-trained.
That worried her.
Training had a tendency to be forgotten in the face of death.
Suli sidled over to the campfire, pulling a small tinderbox, mug, and water jug from her ring. It would have been easy to simply light a fire, but she preferred to avoid the pain, even if momentary.
She used the tinder sparingly, not wanting to wake the others. They were used to this, by now, and would sleep through the barest of light. It took her less than ten seconds to start the fire, and even less than that to suffocate it. The embers worked just as well, and wouldn’t wake the others.
Suli stemmed the flow of essence. Not enough to shatter the spell, but enough to lower its light. The embers’ orange glow mixed with the white light of her spell, giving it a pale, almost rosy hue.
Ember sat cross-legged, with his blade once again balanced between both legs.
“Why do you sit like that?” Suli asked, unable to contain her curiosity.
“… If you don’t mind answering,” she added sheepishly.
Even without the mask, she could tell he was taken aback, but he just shook his head. “I don’t mind,” he said softly. “But there are questions that I won’t answer.”
Suli smiled. “Everyone has their own circumstances. So?”
He shrugged. “It just became a habit.”
“And you don’t ever cut yourself?”
“No. We were trained to control blades.”
That one statement contained more information about him than she knew previously. She knew he’d been trained, but he’d been trained alongside others, and among a variety of weapons. That only left a few options for his background. Mercenary seemed the most likely, but Worrick was playing some game.
She was sure of that. And the way he’d worded his answer was odd. We and blades specifically. He’d been trained alongside a group, and taught to control multiple weapons. But as far as she knew, martial schools focused on a single weapon.
Soldier was another possibility. Naru and Rase said that Ember was more similar to them, and while that was obviously true, it didn’t seem right. They both walked with a military cadence, something that he noticeably lacked.
And soldiers trained exclusively with the sword and spear, sometimes in tandem with a shield. Ember had a dagger at his waist— even if he’d lost the first.
Suli took a sip of her tea, relishing the warmth that blossomed through her. As she looked at Ember over the rim of her mug, she had a crazy thought.
An insane thought.
“Are you… an elf?” She asked, unable to keep the words from spilling out of her mouth.
He didn’t respond.
Just as she was about to say something more—
“Why do you think that?”
— Ember asked his own question.
“… Your weapon, I guess,” Suli answered after thinking for a moment. “There are other reasons, but that’s the main one. It’s clearly of elvish make, but I’ve never seen anything like it. It looks thin and fragile, but you’re clearly comfortable with it. So it’s been used, and it still looks flawless. It would make sense for an elf to have better elvish weapons.”
He fell silent for a moment— and then shorted.
“I take it you’re not an elf, then?”
“No,” he answered. “I’m not. They’re allergic to metal.” Ember pulled his dagger free and pressed its flat against his palm. “See? No pain. No redness.”
“Oh.” Suli’s face reddened. “Right.”
It wasn’t as if an elf could just sneak into a mercenary group. No matter how corrupt her brother was, he wouldn’t do that.
… would he?
“Why are you out here, then? Are you a soldier seeking fortune?”
“No. I enjoy this type of work.”
That was an interesting answer. The obvious conclusion was adrenaline junkie, but he seemed much too calm for that. And he’d been trained. That trait was usually beaten out of people, and for good reason.
“Enough about me,” Ember said quietly, interrupting her thoughts. “What about you?” He pointed to where her staff lay. “You’re a mage. And that staff… looks expensive. So why are you out here?”
Suli took another sip of her tea, then exhaled, trying to remove the knot of emotions that his question caused. “It’s complicated,” she said softly. “My family is— was— a military family. And like many, they committed many atrocities during the war. Unlike many of them, I took issue with that.”
Another sip.
“The time after the war was… odd. There was fear, public outcry, and riots.” Suli paused, struggling to explain. “Mages could have culled them in seconds, but doing so would have significantly lowered our population. It’s a strange thought, to be sure, this world is hostile to us. Sometimes concessions have to be made. I think it was the correct decision.”
Suli drained the cup.
“My brother and I voluntarily presented proof of our family’s actions.” She smiled wryly. “It’s funny. It turns out keeping records is important, even if you’re committing atrocities. Every body had to be accounted for, after all.”
She set it down in the ground.
“My brother and I, as well as a few distant relatives, are all that really remain. The rest are still in prison. It was agreed there would be no executions for the same reason. Population. They’ll be released sometime in the future, but no one has decided when yet.”
“That doesn’t answer why you’re here.”
“Money,” she answered. “That’s all there is to it. I have no standing, and no chance of joining the military. There’s busywork I could do with magic, but I work a quarter the rate of someone more suited. And those aren’t big paydays. I just want to make enough to go live out my life somewhere peaceful and remote. This is the fastest way to do that. The merchants pay a small fortune for long journeys, and they’ll buy the hides and Hearts from you.”
Suli gestured to the others.
“They have the same idea. Make enough money, then go live somewhere with Tasha. And hopefully leave enough for her. Although I think she’d get bored.” She paused.
“That means taking dangerous commissions, though. If my brother put you here, I assume you’re okay with that.”
“Worrick is your brother?”
“You didn’t know?”
“You don’t act like him.”
She snorted. “I take that as a compliment.”
“I’m okay with it,” he said softly. “But I have family I to take care of.”
Suli nodded. “I understand. Don’t worry. It’s not like we’ll be doing them every week. We need time to recuperate. There will be at least three months between each mission, if not more. Longer freights will also use storage rings, so they travel more quickly. Still, it’s longer… and more dangerous. But I’ve been at it for a while now. So have they. We don’t need much more.”
“They’re not the first group you’ve been a part of, then.”
She shook her head. “Nope. I joined some time ago. The four of them knew each other, but I was new to them. Still, we grew close quickly. Rase is friendly.” She paused. “I’m sure you noticed, but you’re replacing someone.”
“I know.”
“He left them his fortune, and a little bit for me as well. So we’re close. They could retire now, but they want to live in luxury. I asked my brother to pull some strings, and that gave me you… I assume that much is obvious.”
“It is.” Ember dipped his head. “I don’t mind. No one is forcing me to do this. And I don’t plan on doing it forever. Just… until I figure out what’s next.”
“I see.” In the end, it didn’t matter. He’d already proven he had no intention of stabbing him in the back, and even if he wasn’t quite friendly, he was at least amiable. That was really more than they could ask for.
Suli stood. “I won’t pry,” she said softly, “and I won’t ask you to remove your mask, but at the very least, you’re someone I can work with. I look forward to it.
“… Likewise.”
“You should sleep now. Thanks for watching.”
“Alright.”
Suli retrieved her belongings, stamping out the last few coals as Ember pulled his bedding from his pack. She was curious about how he would sleep, but the masked man simply lay on his back and seemingly fell asleep.
It was impressive, in a way.
She strode away from the camp, feeding another small trickle of essence into her spell.
The night passed without issue.