“I have a job to offer.”

Of all the many words Worrick had heard spoken by the doctor, those six were perhaps the most dangerous.

“What kind of job are we talking about here?” He asked slowly, raising his face to meet Varus’ golden gaze.

“A dangerous one.”

Worrick scoffed. “Every job is dangerous in one way or another, doc.”

“This is more dangerous than most.”

“Why me, then? You know I enjoy my cushy… ah.” He paused as the realization dawned. “Not for me. For my sister. In part”

Varus nodded. “Correct.”

Worrick sighed. “I may be corrupt, but that doesn’t mean I like the idea of sending my sister into danger.”

“And yet you accepted my last request readily,” the doctor said mildly.

Worrick bristled at the implicit accusation. “That’s different.” His voice was more snarl than speech. “No one on their right mind would cross the Guild. And there’s a reason I asked to meet him beforehand, you know.” Reading people was a skill he’d honed to near perfection over the years. It was something crucial for his position, after all.

If Varus was worried about his outburst, he hid it well. “The pay for this is quite substantial,” he said quietly. “And if your sister’s group completes this mission, I’ll pay my own commission. Your sister– and her friends– will never want for money again. You have my word.”

Worrick growled. “Damn you and your deep pockets.”

The doctor smiled wryly.

“Fine. What’s the job?”

There was the telltale blue flash of magic, and a single sheet of paper appeared in Varus’ hand. He reached over the desk, wordlessly offering it to Worrick.

Worrick read the first sentence–

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me.”

– and immediately cursed.

“It’s no joke,” the doctor said, his amusement clear.

“Isn’t this reason enough for execution?”

“Look at the bottom.”

“You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” Worrick repeated. There, at the very bottom, was the royal family’s seal; a silver laurel laced with red stripes. The stripes had been added after the war, in memory of those who had fallen. Just creating such a seal was punishable by death– never mind actually using one.

“It’s no joke,” Varus said nonchalantly, as if discussing the weather. “You were correct in your assumption. Although I admit, I was surprised that royal family was so… receptive.”

“Yeah, right,” Worrick scoffed. He knew of the connection between Varus and the new king. Doctors– especially magical ones– were valuable. And the golden-eyed doctor was both intelligent and shrewd; ideal traits for an advisor.

“... I’m going to advise her to say no.”

“As is your prerogative,” Varus said, pushing his chair back to stand. “But given your sister’s goals, I find it difficult to believe that she would say no. Especially when she has others to consider.”

Worrick gritted his teeth. The doctor was right. “And what about Tasha?”

“I’m prepared to offer her the position of my apprentice.”

He sighed. “Damn you. You really thought of everything, didn’t you?

The corners of Varus’ lips twitched upwards into a small smile. “Despite how you conduct yourself, I’ve never once underestimated you, Worrick. And,” he added after a slight pause, “I know that you cherish your sister. I respect that; hence my offer.”

Worrick fell silent as the golden-haired doctor made for the door. “Wait,” he said as Varus pulled it open.”

He stopped in place, the door only half-open. “Yes?”

“That…” Worrick trailed off, unsure how to refer to the young hollow he met before. “Acquantaince of yours,” he continued. “I assume he has something to do with this.” To his surprise, Varus nodded.

“So far as I can tell.”

“Then… is he powerful enough to guarantee safe passage?”

“I’m not sure.”

“... But?”

“But I suspect that even if pitted against every soldier in this city, magical or otherwise, victory would ultimately be his.”

Worrick leaned back in his chair. “Damn.”

“Bear in mind this is all conjecture. The boy has yet to allow me to examine him.”

“Cautious, eh? That’s a good trait to have.”

“Indeed.”

“Is there anything else I should know about?”

“... Not yet.”

“... That’s worrying.”

“You know that I’m bound by my brother’s magic. Even if I wanted to–”

“Yeah, yeah.” Worrick him off. “I know. You can’t. Magical bindings, and all that.” He sighed. “I don’t know how you live with such complicated loyalties.”

“Bonds of blood are not ones forged through choice. You understand that yourself, no?”

He didn’t respond to that one. There was simply no need to.

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Gwyn was frustrated. She knew why, of course, but that did little to soothe it. If anything, that only made it worse.

She raised her staff as Selerim swung his own downwards, drawing an arc that curved towards her head. The two practice weapons, though thick and sturdy, were clearly not designed with their hands in mind. Already, their hafts were cracked and splintered; after this day’s end, they would need to find new ones.

Again.

Gwyn gritted her teeth as Selerim shifted his grip, sliding his weapon around the wooden shaft and pulling it from her grasp. Her constant losses were one reason for her frustration, but also the one she minded the least.

His expression remained tranquil he spun the weapon in one hand, offering it to her.

Gwyn snatched it from his hand, releasing some of her pent-up anger in the process. Selerim didn’t so much as flinch.

“You’re fixating on the shape of your weapon. Don’t.”

“What does that even mean?”

“It’s a staff–”

“You don’t say.”

Selerim sighed, stepping away to demonstrate. “It can be long or short. You can use it as a club,” he held it on one end and swung it downwards, just as he’d done before, “or to push your opponent off balance.” He jabbed with it, as if the weapon were a spear.

“You need to learn how to use it. Every part of it. Doing the same thing over and over creates rhythms. Patterns. Even Reavers know how to take advantage of that.”

Gwyn scowled at her brother’s back as he took his position just a few steps away.

It had been nearly a week since his return. Time in the dark had clearly done him good. He seemed more settled, somehow; more accepting of the world around him. That was the real reason for her frustration and… jealousy?

You told him to go, she reminded herself. Though Gwyn knew that, it was still difficult to see him find solace in the company of others. Emotions were such complicated things.

In truth, that was the real reason for their training. She wanted the power to stand at his side, no matter what the future brought. That said, any fanciful notion that she might prove Selerim’s equal was quickly shattered.

That in itself was hardly surprising. He had completed his Feast, and his experience far outweighed hers– although that wasn’t saying much, considering hers was practically nonexistent.

Still.

It was frustrating.

Selerim’s eyes left trails of violet incandescence as he rushed forward. Fast as he was, Gwyn knew he capable of moving much faster. That was yet another reason for her frustration– but also much easier to smother.

She lasted three exchanges this time before he tore her weapon away. This time, it split in two, falling to the ground as her grip faltered.

“We’ll stop here,” Selerim said as he knelt to pick up both pieces. “You’re distracted,” he said as he rose. His voice was free of admonishment, but Gwyn still felt her face warm.

“Sorry,” she muttered.

“Don’t apologize,” he said quietly. “It’s about time we took a break, anyways. You need rest.”

Gwyn wanted to protest, but she knew her brother was right. Her limbs ached, and every breath was a small struggle in itself. She refused to let it show on her face or in her posture; she was older now than when Selerim started training under Corvus.

“Has mom talked to you?”

“About what?”

“The doctor’s offer.”

“Ah.” Selerim’s expression turned complicated. “She told me about it. Not much else.”

This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.

“And?”

“And… what?” He asked, clearly confused.

Gwyn sighed. Her brother could be slow to catch on, at times. “What do you think?”

Selerim fell silent. Just as she was about to prod him further, he spoke, his voice completely neutral. “I don’t want you to… but I won’t stop you.”

That answer was hardly surprising. For all his overprotectiveness, her brother never once stopped her from doing something when she truly wanted to. It was one of the many reasons she loved him.

“Although I don’t understand why you want to,” he admitted after another pause, shifting so that he sat cross-legged.

Gwyn did the same, lowering herself to sit with her back pressed to his. The warmth of Selerim’s body seeped into hers, chasing away the early winter bite. He seemed warmer than before; some side effect of his Feast, no doubt. Not that it mattered. Selerim was her brother. Nothing would ever change that.

“It’s complicated,” she muttered. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“Does it matter? You want to do it. So you should.”

“It matters to me.”

“Why?”

Gwyn scowled. It was such a simple question, but the answer? Anything but. “I don’t know how to explain.”

“You’ll never know if you don’t try.”

“I thought you weren’t good at this sort of thing?”

She felt him shift.

“I’m not. That’s why I try to talk.”

Despite herself, Gwyn smiled. “Alright.” She took a moment to organize her thoughts before continuing. “I… You’ve always protected me. Even as a child, I always understood that, I think. And I’m grateful for that,” she quickly added. “I always will be. But when…” her throat constricted. “When mom said that Cress was… was gone. I was scared. So scared.”

Gwyn shivered despite Selerim’s warmth. “I’ve never felt so helpless,” she whispered. “It’s stupid, but I never want to feel like that again.”

“That doesn’t explain why you want my approval,” he responded quietly.

She nodded once. “You’re right.” After a long pause, she added, “you’re my brother. Of course your approval is important to me. Do I need another reason?”

Selerim shifted again. “I suppose not.”

“And,” Gwyn added, “I want to stand by your side.” In the end, it all came back to that. “I’m your sister. What’s the point of that title if all I ever do stand behind you?” She felt him stiffen at that. “I’m not saying I want to follow you out into Umbra… although I want to, eventually,” she admitted. “I don’t mind it here. But I don’t like being away from you for so long–”

“If–”

“Don’t even say it.” She cut her brother off. “I told you. You need to think about your own happiness. That doesn’t mean I don’t miss you… but those are two different things.” Gwyn felt a hint of satisfaction as Selerim fell silent.

“I don’t like that idea,” he finally said, voice just barely audible. “I’ve seen what a rupture looks like. It’s not pretty.”

Gwyn felt him shift yet again, and she knew without a doubt that he was turning the wooden bracelet around his wrist. He’d not taken it on his hunt– one of his many precautions– but she knew he valued it.

At times, though, she wondered if he wore it as some form of atonement; a reminder of yet another person he couldn’t save.

“If you’re worried about the Well breaking, I could always wear your bracelet. Only if you’re okay with it, I mean,” she quickly added as Selerim tensed.

“I don’t mind,” he finally said, “but you’re not ready yet.”

“I know.” That was easy enough to admit; they’d trained every day since his return, but she still had yet to land even a single strike on him. “I’m not asking you to take me out right away. I’m not ready. But when I am…?”

Selerim audibly sighed. “We’ll talk about it then.”

Gwyn nodded. “Alright.” That was the best answer she was going to get; and, just as before, her brother wouldn’t keep her from doing something she truly desired. It was just a matter of proving her resolve. “And about the other thing…?”

“I won’t stop you.” He paused. “Do you know her?”

It took her a moment to process the sudden change in topic. Turning halfway, she followed Selerim’s outstretched arm– and saw Saris drop down on their side of the gate.

“Oh!” Gwyn stood up hurriedly, dusting off her legs. “It’s Saris.” She paused awkwardly, realizing that meant nothing to her brother. “A friend of mine. We… just sort of met.”

“I see.”

“Should I introduce you?”

Selerim shook his head. “You’re a good judge of character,” he said as he stood. “And you’re stronger than most here, anyways. Just… be careful.”

“I will be,” Gwyn promised.

“I need to go talk to mom.” With that, he turned away.

Gwyn turned–

“Gwyn!”

– and found Saris flying towards her. Acting entirely on instinct, she caught the other girl in her arms. A human her age likely would have been knocked down, but Gwyn merely rocked backwards, righting herself a moment later.

“Saris,” she said uncertainly. “It’s… been a while.”

“It has,” the red-eyed girl murmured. “I missed you.”

Something in her tone gave Gwyn pause. “Is something wrong?”

Saris’ expression fell as she pulled away. “Something with my brother,” she said sullenly. “That’s why I haven’t been visiting.”

“... I see,” Gwyn said slowly, unsure of what else to day.

“Was that your brother?” Saris asked, pointing towards Selerim’s back.

“Yeah. He’s… busy. I’ll introduce you next time.”

Her face fell even further. “About that…” She paused, taking a breath before continuing. “I don’t think there will be a next time.”

“What? Why not?”

Saris bit her lip. “Something with my brother. I… I don’t know how much I should say. But I think we’re going to be moving.”

“It’s alright. I understand.” Gwyn buried her sadness. “If this is the last time we’ll see each other, we should spend it having fun.”

The other girl’s face finally brightened. “Alright!”

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Linua turned at the sound of the opening door. “Selerim.” Her son stood there in the doorway. Nyx appeared on his shoulder in a flicker of shadow. “How is Gwyn’s training going?”

“... Good,” he answered, coaxing Nyx onto one hand. “She learns fast.”

She smiled. “Of course she does. She’s your sister.”

“... She wants to go back into Umbra with me. Not now, but eventually.”

“And?” Linua asked gently. “Are you really surprised? She– we– almost lost you once. Gwyn was a mess for days after I returned. I was surprised she was okay with you leaving again.” She regretted those words the moment they crossed her lips.

“Hey,” she said soothingly as Selerim’s expression crumbled. “That’s not what I meant. Your sister wants you to be happy– she just wants to be part of that, as well.”

“You are,” he said defiantly. “Both of you.”

“I know,” Linua agreed, walking over and pulling her son into a hug. “But she wants to be a part of all of your happiness. You understand, don’t you?” She winced as Nyx sidled onto her shoulder and bit down on her ear; no doubt because she’d upset Selerim. I raised you, you know.

“... I do.” His voice was muffled. “But I’m worried.”

“About what?”

“... I don’t want her to get hurt.”

“Our world is one soaked in blood and anguish,” Linua said. “And do you think Gwyn enjoyed seeing you return wounded?”

“... I suppose not,” Selerim answered, somewhat chagrined. “I never thought of it like that.”

“Gwyn will never stop you from doing what you want. But she wants to share in the things that make you happy. Do you really want to keep her from doing that?”

“... No.” He pulled away. Nyx hopped back onto his shoulder as he did so. “Do you trust the doctor?” The change in topic was sudden, but not unexpected.

Linua nodded. “I do. He’s been kind to us. Perhaps more than we deserve. I’m not sure we’ll ever truly be able to repay him.” She paused. “Veile’s warning still bothers you, doesn’t it?”

Selerim scowled. “I don’t know how to explain it.”

“You don’t need to,” she soothed, ruffling his bone-white hair with one hand. Do what you think is best.”

He fell silent, contemplation clear on his face.

“The people you’re… working with. What do you think of them?”

The consternation on his face vanished. “I like them. They’re good people.” That answer was hardly surprising. Selerim’s restlessness had all but vanished in the three days since his return. He seemed more confident now; more grounded.

“I see.” Linua fell quiet as she studied her son. He had grown taller in their time apart, now standing just a hair under two meters. His bone-white hair still had much of its bluish lustre, where Gwyn’s had faded.

The biggest change, though, were his eyes. Not just the color– though she still had yet to acclimate to the two-toned violet– but the weariness in them. A weariness far beyond his age.

She felt a pang of guilt and sadness. She had only ever seen the aftermath of that fateful night, but Selerim had lived through it; witnessed it firsthand.

And then buried his friends with his own hands.

That was not the sort of thing one simply forgot.

Linua was the one to break the silence. “Speaking of Varus. He wanted to see you again.”

“What for?”

“Something about your next mission.”

“Ah.” His expression relaxed. “I’ll go talk to him, then.”

image [https://i.imgur.com/T7fdvjj.png]

Selerim paused, hand hovering just above the wooden door. I seem to be doing this a lot lately. Some part of him still distrusted the doctor, but that small bit shrank with each passing day. He’d helped them, perhaps more than they could repay.

So what is it?

He gritted his teeth. Another, even smaller part of him, still took Veile’s words to heart– even after she’d used him. It was frustrating.

But deep down, Selerim knew the reason for that was much simpler. He loved his family– their safety was not something taken lightly.

Ending the small internal struggle, the hollow rapped his knuckles on the door. The answer came almost immediately. “Come in.”

He pushed the door open, revealing Varus at his desk. “Selerim. It’s good to see you again.” His voice was genuine and warm.

Selerim just nodded.

“How went your first commission?”

“... Good.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

“... Why did you want to see me?”

“Because of this.” The doctor reached for a sheet of paper, offering it to Selerim with an outstretched arm.

The hollow stepped forward to accept it– and cursed silently at the first two sentences.

“I’ve made a point of not questioning your whereabouts prior to your reunion,” Varus said. “But I’m afraid I can afford that no longer. Your weapon, mask, and bracelet are clearly of elven make.” He paused, giving time for his words to sink in. “I need to know– do you have any ties to their kingdom?”

“I haven’t spoken with an elf since I left,” Selerim snarled, baring his teeth.

“And yet they asked for you specifically.”

He knew who they referred to, of course, even if Varus didn’t. Veile. Viria’s sister. A mysterious elf who claimed to read the future.

“I guided a lost elf back. I haven’t spoken with her since I elft. That’s all there is to it.”

The doctor’s golden eyes seemed to flicker. “Very well. Suli will be receiving the same document soon. I expect her reaction will be similar to mine– I suggest you conduct yourself with caution.” He turned his attention back to the papers strewn across the desk, clearly done with the conversation.

Selerim forced himself to calm. The doctor’s suspicions were warranted. “And if I don’t want to go?”

“The decision is not yours to make. Of course, no one can force you to partake, but you would forfeit your position as a mercenary. That said, my offer from before still stands. You don’t need to decide now,” Varus added, seeing the conflict on his face. “There is still some time between then and now.”

Selerim turned to exit the room. Nyx lighted on his shoulder after four steps, her sharp talons digging into his skin. He stopped mid-stride, coaxing her onto his arm.

She dragged her ebony beak across his open flesh.

“Thanks, girl,” he whispered, stroking her feathered head. That was all he needed.

But how does he fit into this? It was a question that had plagued him since their first meeting. Varus was someone of influence; of power. Despite whatever lies he had fed Selerim just then, he didn’t seem the kind to destroy a village for no reason. That meant one of two things.

Either there was some reason, unbeknownst to Selerim.

Or he had played no part.

In spite of what just transpired, one was clearly more likely than the other. But that answer only raised more questions– even more than the other possible one.

What am I supposed to do?

With a sigh of resignation, he went to find his mother yet again. She would be able to offer guidance, no matter how small.