Chapter 146 Pt.2:

"It's certainly different." Anton held his chin in contemplative thought. "This is more of a flame than a series of overlapping hexagons."

"See?" Marcus craned his head back. "I'm not a part of this."

"I didn't really think you were but I had to make sure. And your Knight here has the same mark too."

Marcus shrugged lightly and put his thick gambeson back on. Despite his age, he wouldn't have been considered too old on Earth, he was in superb condition. So too was the other Blue Firestorm Knight. It would be strange if they weren't; swinging swords and running and riding in heavy armour would simply not allow it any other way.

"They have the same mark." Cetina said. She remained to the side of the two bound and topless Yellow Striders, keeping her sword levelled with their throats. "Same as that other one."

"How dare you treat us like this!" A Yellow Strider Knight yelled, straining against his bonds. "We are Knights of Qaiviel! Common filth, like you, have no business even touching us, let alone imprisoning us like some vagabond bandit-"

"You need to be quiet." Anton directed the Fire Imp to stand just in front of his leg. "Or I'll let him have his meal of your throat."

Both Knights recoiled. The summons didn't need any physical sustenance, they received everything they needed from Anton, but he had not tried it. Perhaps they would grow in strength, ascend another level if they devoured enough living flesh. Or they could become an abomination. Anton didn't particularly want to find out.

"You would send one of those things to eat us?"

"Yes."

Everyone fell silent, until Marcus tapped his armoured boot.

"So what are we doing? That crossbowman," He glanced to Cetina's damaged armour. "Is still on the loose. No one has found him yet. And I don’t like having just one enemy running about, with impunity, in this camp."

"It's a big camp. With a lot of places to hide. Truth be told I'm not sure what colour his hair was."

"Brown." Cetina answered. "At least I think it was."

"Maybe I can use Tethra's ability to look back into my memories..."

Anton didn't finish his thought. He might find the source of his blocked, static filled, panic inducing memories. They were blocked for a reason.

"Let's get this started then."

Anton approached the more boisterous of the two Knights. He moved as far as his bonds would allow, almost to the point of lying flat along the ground to avoid Anton's hand, the other remained perfectly quiet to avoid being noticed. Cetina kicked the man in the back to right him against the wooden pole. Anton gripped the man's head and chanted a truth prayer.

"Fucking scum!"

"No one likes losing control over their mind. But then again." Anton kicked him in the nose, raking his boot down and ripping apart the skin. "But I don't like someone trying to kill me either."

The Knight coughed and sputtered blood as it ran down his face and back through his nose. As Anton still only had one had he couldn’t hit him that hard but it was enough to break cartilage. Cetina grunted something but refuse to elaborate when Anton spared her a glance.

"Now that you're behaving better, who ordered you to kill us?"

"I don't know." The knight desperately wiggled, to be free of Anton and his magic, both in vain. "We weren’t told to kill anyone at Leo’s side, that was the assassin’s job. We were told to make sure none survived."

"The assassins?"

"Yes."

"Cleaning up is important." Anton shrugged. "Cuts off any links back to the plotters. Maybe even cut down costs...literally and figuratively...I wonder if there's a word for that?"

The Knight spat at Anton, the bloody spit struck his leg but Anton wasn't too worried. If anything the Knight grew more nervous, his companion remained perfectly silent and still.

"Regardless, who ordered you to clean up? To kill the other assassins after their job was done?"

Cracking teeth filled the air but his resistance was of no use.

"Cardinal Abeau." Tears began to flow down his cheeks.

"How did he get into contact with you?” Marcus asked. “The Yellow Striders are far from Clausonne.”

Anton repeated the question. Again he resisted but the magic compelled him to speak.

"He sent messengers, disguised as recruits." The man's tears stopped. "He threatened our family and our order if we didn't."

Cetina bumped Anton's side.

"I know." Anton smiled. "I didn't ask that."

Both men's expressions fell.

"How much did he pay you? Or promised to pay? Rewards, what were they?"

"Three chests of gold. And a new Knight Order for each of us, loyal to the Church of the Holy Father."

"There it is.” Anton shook his head. “You just got greedy. Do you actually believe in the Holy Father?"

"No." He spat again, far more weakly this time. "Damn your magic to hell."

"In time. You mentioned three chests. I imagine there was one for each you. So who was the other one?"

"Our youngest brother. A Squire in the Yellow Striders."

"That's why you tried to rescue him when the plan failed, correct?"

The Knight glumly nodded.

"I think I have just about everything that I need. How many more Yellow Strider Knights know about this?"

"Just us. Just us."

“And do you know who the primary targets were? I might have considerable magic but there are people far more important to this rebellion that you didn’t target first. Like King Leo, for instance.”

“I don’t know. I don’t know who the targets were, we were told to be there by the assassins to help. They didn’t know that we were there to kill them once it was done.”

"So you can get the glory and avoid most of the suspicion. Thank you. I think we have enough now." Anton stood up and relinquished his touch. "You weren't the ones sent to kill me, per se, but your younger brother tried to finish the assassin’s job and paid the price. I wonder if you planned to throw his body into a cess pit, you couldn't just get anyone to heal him. Some brotherly love."

"Fuck you." There was no venom or strength left in him anymore.

"What do we do with them?" Anton asked Marcus. "Can't exactly let them go."

The Knight struggled against his bonds again. "You-"

Cetina punched him hard in the mouth. A bloody tooth became lodged in her mailed fist.

"I'm angry too, Anton."

"I..."

"A quick execution." Marcus gently nodded. "That's the best that they deserve. Traitor Knights do not live long."

"Can hardly send them to a prison." The other Blue Firestorm Knight finally spoke.

"I, wait." Anton ran back to the Knight, chanting the prayer again. "Do you have any idea who the Messenger, the man with the crossbow, was?"

"No."

"Any idea where he might be right now?"

"No."

"That's a shame. We're going to have to start the assault with some maniac loose in our lines. But while we're here."

Anton asked the other Knight the same questions. Unfortunately he knew as little as the first. There was nothing more to gain from either.

They'd probably be killed before they received their new Knight Order. And three? They expect for that to be paid for entirely by their benefactors? If it's too good to be true then it probably is.

"Do you want me to do it?" Cetina asked.

"My magic might be faster. A quick bolt to the head-"

"They'll kill you." The silent Knight spoke of his own volition. "You know that, don't you?"

"Just like they were going to kill you when you were done with us? Or simply let others kill you for free. Doesn't matter to them."

"They have hundreds of those creatures. Those strange things. And you've seen what one can do."

"A unique one." Anton smiled. "One that I, we, killed."

"They're going to get those women you drag behind you." The Knight sneered, Anton remained perfectly silent. "They'll find the little nest that you cower in, and they'll drag them out, kicking and screaming. If they're lucky they'll be killed or sold to Seocuria. If not they'll become part of the Crusading force, as relief-"

"Okay."

The Boisterous Knight burst into flames, kicking and screaming while flames consumed his body. Anton said nothing while he stared into the Silent Knights eyes, his were nothing more than dots staring at his brother slowly burning to death. Slowly. Very slowly. Anton kept the heat and strength as low as possible so he wouldn't die quickly.

"Keep going." Anton knelt down, never deviating his sight. "You were saying something about taking the people I care about, that I love, and turning them into comfort girls."

Anton jabbbed him in the forehead with his finger. “Keep going.”

"Help me!" The burning Knight screamed. The outer layer of skin had burned away, black lines crisscrossed his body as the flames drove deeper. An acrid smell of burning hair filled the air. Anton didn't know how the others were reacting, he simply didn't care right now.

"Well?" Anton tapped the Knight's leg. "Aren't you going to continue?"

"Stop it!" He struggled fruitlessly to pull himself free. "You're killing him!"

"Don't worry about that." Anton snapped his fingers in front of his face. "You worry about yourself. Now, please, continue."

"Kill me!"

"Well?" Anton ignored the desperate pleas. He grabbed the man hard around his throat. “Keep. Talking! Pointlessly threatening, like you-”

The burning Knight's screams suddenly stopped. A sword stuck out from his head, one with a bright blue Chelium edge. Cetina stared silently at Anton as she withdrew her blade, her vacant eye searched for something in his, a strange mixture of disappointment and concern.

Marcus and the Blue Firestorm knight shared a glance but remained quiet.

"A butcher like you-"

Anton threw a Lightning bolt into his head, killing him instantly. The spray of blood and viscera did not faze him.

"Is this normal?" Marcus whispered to Cetina. Cetina shook her head.

Anton said nothing, casting his eyes down and left the tent. He didn’t feel ashamed or remorseful but he didn’t like the look Cetina gave him.

The moment Anton stood outside he found himself overwhelmed by the smell of fresh air. Only then did he realise he had become strangely accustomed to the smell of burning human flesh. His eyes fell on a small group of Blue Firestorm and Black Riders Knights standing guard outside the tent.

"No sign of that Messenger?" Anton asked, forcing himself to ignore his actions just moments ago.

"No, my Lord." A Blue Firestorm Knight replied. "We have no idea where they are."

"Or how many are left." Anton mused. "Just a few insurgents can bring this entire camp to a nervous halt."

Cetina held Anton's shoulder tight. "It might just be him. But if we do find him we won't be doing everything you just did, alright?"

The Knights appeared rather confused; a female soldier was admonishing a Mage and her commander, but Anton agreed.

"I did go too far. But..." Anton didn't finish his thought, especially when Cetina looked at him with great concern and worry. What else did Verona and Kal tell her?

Marcus threw the tent flap open, the other Knight remained behind. "The Yellow Striders are innocent in this. Just these two, three, idiots. I doubt Abeau could buy off too many, the Church has almost no influence in the south east, so he probably got lucky. Who knows how much money they had to pay just to get these three?"

"Who is this Abeau?" Anton asked, Cetina finally relinquished her hold. "Someone powerful enough to put this together."

"A fat, little, power hungry bastard." Marcus scoffed. "With Harold on the throne he's essentially in command of the entire Kingdom."

"And knows how to make more of those creatures."

Cetina shook her head. "I never heard anything like that from my father, when he spoke of The Holy Father."

Marcus frowned at Cetina.

"My father was, but I'm not."

"I haven't heard of anything like that from their scripture.” Marcus gently scratched his beard. “But I don't need to be told to know that isn't right."

"I wonder how they discovered how to create those things." Anton placed his hand on his hip, the other he kept loose. He made a note to deal with that as soon as possible, alongside the scars on his face. "A number of inventions and discoveries were entirely accidental. I wonder what they were doing when they stumbled upon this?"

Anton shook his head, dispelling the images of unimaginable cruelty. He pursed his lips as he looked up and out into the camp. Something stood out amongst the movement of people. One was not. A young man stood to the side of a large tent pole while he stared intently at Anton. Anton slowly moved his eyes away, as to not look suspicious, and enchanted his vision.

"He's watching us." Anton said softly. "Don't look, but he's near a medical tent. If that's what that symbol means."

Marcus turned to look at his Knights, giving him view of the tent in the distance. "I'm not certain, but I think I can see someone. My eyesight isn't the best."

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"He's in range of my Lightning Crows."

Anton turned back to the tent, almost vomiting from the visual distortion. All three remained near the dead Knight, bobbing their heads as they slowly walked around his limp feet.

"No one's going to be upset if they fly over the camp?"

"The Principle Mages we have know about you and your magic. It'll be fine."

"If I send all three that'll be suspicious. Can you have the other Knight open the other tent's flap?"

Marcus relayed the order. Anton ordered two of the crows out through that entrance and to land on his shoulders. The Messenger's fingers tensed, maneuvered himself to narrow his profile, but didn't leave.

Perfect.

The moment the rear flap opened the third crow darted out and took flight, flying low and between the tents to avoid being seen.

"Is it moving?" Cetina asked.

"Yeah. It'll be a little bit though. I'm just glad they didn't have a Mage with them. Talk. Talk amongst yourselves, so it doesn't look too suspicious."

Cetina and Marcus tried to speak normally, it was very awkward and essentially revolved around swords but it was enough that their lips were moving. Anton didn't know if the Messenger could read lips but it would, at the very least, confuse him into inaction.

"Got him."

A single lighting crack echoed through the air. The Lightning Crow floated over the Messenger's body as he twitched and spasmed, the lightning activating nearly every neuron in his body.

"Seize him." Marcus ordered. "We'll have you question him again. But-"

Cetina simply held his shoulder, staring silently into his eyes.

"Alright. I...I'm angry that they tried to kill me, us, but threatening those that I care about makes my blood boil. I don't know why..."

Marcus smiled. "It's not that uncommon. Regardless, let's see what this little whelp has to say."

---[]---

“So it was the same.” Anton mused quietly.

The Messenger lay before them, this time tied to a post in a different section of the camp, tears running down his face. He had offered no resistance, especially after many menacing torture implements were brought forth, not that it would have mattered in the face of Anton’s magic. The Messenger was no mage.

“A poor man bought with promises of wealth and glory.” Leo scoffed. “And he was dumb enough to think he would live afterwards. As if someone that killed a King would actually be rewarded.”

The Messenger refused to look anyone in the eye, instead staring at the ground in some attempt to try and mentally avoid his inevitable death. Being naked and covered in dirt didn’t help his mental state.

“But it’s fortunate that they failed.” Leo looked to Anton’s stump. “Though it appeared they got very close.”

Anton couldn’t help but agree. If there were more or better prepared…

“Something like this won’t be happening in the future.” Anton said adamantly. “I don’t want to lose this hand again.”

“Again?”

“I’ll work a way to get it back. But I don’t want to be in such peril like that again.”

“I can assure you that fleeing Clausonne was not a pleasant experience.” Leo signalled to a pair of Black Rider Knights. “Though I didn’t lose a hand in the process…Those white cubes. They look awfully similar to what you did to Caiden.”

“Another time.” Anton rubbed the lines running across his face. “I need to understand what happened myself.”

“I see…Magic is not easy, is it?”

“What’s going to happen to him?” Cetina asked.

Leo shrugged. “There is no more information to be gained. My sister is not involved, so we don’t have a new enemy, and I fully understand who’s targeting me. This vagrant from the border means nothing to no one, I doubt his family has much more than a simple farm and they do not deserve to be punished for their son’s stupidity. So…”

Leo waved his hand forward, the two Knights descended upon the hapless. No one said a word as the young man’s body was struck down. Only when the two returned to Leo’s side, wiping away the blood on The Messenger’s pile of clothes, did anyone dare speak.

“Your orders?” Marcus asked.

Bernard, standing just behind Leo, nodded once.

“Orders?”

“The threat, I believe Anton’s magical extracted confession, has been thwarted. For now at least. If I were Cardinal Abeau I’d throw every infiltrator I could at this camp.” Marcus nodded towards Anton. “It almost worked. Imagine if they had a hundred.”

Cetina frowned harshly. “There are still some missing. Like the cooks. I know you weren’t there but they were a part of it. It wouldn’t be too difficult to take up a crossbow and aim it at one of us.”

Marcus thought deeply on Cetina’s words, Cetina found herself slightly embarrassed by her minor outburst, only if Leo were to decide her words constituted such a thing.

“It will be difficult, probably impossible, to track them down. I’m sure Anton could interrogate everyone but we simply don’t have the time.”

Leo held his chin, the other his elbow. Anton was already finding the lack of appendages rather annoying. He continued to reach out and stand as if it wasn’t gone, something he planned to fix very shortly.

“Keep advancing on Clausonne.” Leo ordered. “After another search of the camp. I think our mage needs a chance to recuperate.”

“If it’s necessary I can always leave and return to the army on the move.” Anton offered.

Leo shook his head. “No. It’ll take some time to get everyone ready to move. We should have been long gone by now but everyone’s still on alert and ready for further attacks.”

“That’s going to remain long after we’ve taken Clausonne.” Marcus dryly added.

“So take a short break.” Leo motioned to Anton’s hand. “I don’t know how you’re going to fix that but do what you must. We need everyone in their best condition.”

To be fair I probably don’t need arms or legs. Cetina, or someone like Rasha, could carry me on their back and I’d still be just as effective. Maybe more so, since I won’t have to worry about walking.

“Can’t have one of our most important assets critically wounded.” Leo smiled. “You are alright, aren’t you?”

“Apart from the hand and my face, I am.”

Cetina gave him a long look, one that Leo didn’t fail to catch.

“Do whatever you need to, Anton.” Leo’s face turned oddly serious. “And…I’m glad that you survived.”

“Thank you, your majesty.”

At least we’re acting a little better than before.

Leo pointed to the corpse. “Someone drop that thing outside of the camp. Leave it to the wolves and crows. It’s more than he deserves.”

A Blue Firestorm Knight shrugged and hauled the corpse out of the tent.

Leo sighed, running a hand through his head. “And it had all been going so well. I couldn’t, shouldn’t, have expected Harold to sit by and do nothing. Well, more likely Abeau to do nothing. Especially since we’re doing the same thing to his mages.”

“I doubt they’ll be able to launch something as big as this before we arrive at Clausonne.” Anton said. “A day or two isn’t enough to get more people in. I sincerely doubt you will be accepting too many more.”

“Speaking of.” Leo tapped his chin for a few seconds. “Do you wish to have some of our Knights to act as your bodyguards? Though Cetina, clearly, did extremely well a few extra hands will have likely prevented the entire attack. I doubt they could take on just a few more soldiers.”

“I must refuse your offer, your majesty.” Anton smiled. “After Clausonne has been retaken my attentions are needed elsewhere. And in the meantime I’m definitely going to increase my guard. However they would not be returning to Qaiviel Anytime soon, I must travel beyond this continent in order to continue my work.”

Leo slowly nodded. “Very well. You aren’t a part of the Qaiviel Kingdom after all. But, regardless, take care of yourself. It will be far more difficult to take the capital without you and your magic.”

Leo smiled and left, taking the majority of the Knights with him. Cetina breathed a sigh of relief to see the back of the King.

“Are Verona and Kal going to be enough?”

“Absolutely. Especially Verona. There’s no way that those men would have done any of this with her blood shards.” Anton rubbed the cubes embedded in his face. “But before we find them I’m going to need your help. Something that I can only ask you to do.”

Cetina frowned lightly, glancing down to his stump. “What do you mean?”

---[]---

“This is so bad.” Cetina grumbled. “What am I supposed to do exactly?”

Anton lay down on one of their beds, a simple laid out roll of thick cloth on the ground. While many others, those more important in the war camp, were afforded raised wooden beds Anton found these more than enough. During his time in the wilds, alongside Verona and Kal, their sleeping arrangements weren’t much better. Of course there was always someone soft and warm to hold but that was another point entirely.

“Just remove the cubes.” Anton said calmly. “Once they’re gone I’m sure that I’ll be able to heal myself back to normal.”

He raised his stump of a hand. “Though this one might be far more traumatic for you.”

Cetina slumped back. She sat next to Anton’s head, still in her armour and even her helm, and held an incredibly sharp scalpel and a pair of iron tweezers.

“Surely Verona or Kal would be better suited for this.” Cetina smiled faintly. “I don’t know how they’d like me poking around your face.”

They did try…

Anton gently shook his head, dispelling his wandering thoughts and trying to ignore how close they were to one another.

“I know that if they saw this.” Anton raised his stump wrist. “Especially this they’d freak out. Verona would be trying to fight anyone involved and Kal would be quite distraught. I don’t think that I’ve actually been this wounded in front of them before.”

“I think that might happen.” Cetina glumly nodded and sighed loudly. “I just wish that I wasn’t the one to do this.”

“You trust someone else?”

“Not anyone here.” Cetina spoke firmly. She tapped the hole in his leg armour. “Not after that.”

Cetina lightly slapped her cheek before raising the scalpel again and leaning close to his head. The blade wavered ever so slightly as she held it against Anton’s skin just to the side of the white cubes. With some effort the blade cut into his skin and began to slide along the edges of the cubes. While they hadn’t merged with his body per se, there were no pieces of flesh or strands of sinew entering the cubes, they were still stuck and couldn’t just be ripped out easily. A few blood stained cubes lay to Cetina’s side after quite a substantial amount of effort.

“How,” Cetina coughed and focused herself. “How are you not shouting, or even making any noise as I do this? I’m…I am cutting you!”

“I know the pain is for a good cause.” Anton tried to use as few facial muscles as possible while Cetina was digging around his face. “And it’ll be over soon.”

“There’s a lot here.” Cetina sighed. “And it goes pretty deep in some places. I really don’t know what I’m doing. Can you not feel them, grinding against the bones in your face?”

“Honestly no. I can feel them but they just feel sweet.” Anton waved his normal hand. “Keep going, otherwise it’ll actually start to become an issue. Maybe just from blood loss.”

“Might be better to have Verona do this then.”

Cetina slowly began to cut away at the flesh and pull the cubes free. Every so often she would dab away the blood, a small pile of blood rags quickly grew as she worked in silence. Anton was glad to have someone with extremely good eyesight, at least in one eye, as Anton could see she was taking the absolute minimum cuts before pulling the cubes free.

After some time Cetina leant back, trying in vain to wipe away the sweat on her forehead with her metal arm guard. She frowned before Anton handed her a small piece of clean cloth.

“Thanks.” Cetina loudly exhaled. “Right, that’s one done. Do you want to see if it worked? So I don’t have to keep carving up your face? There’s a lot of blood that I missed.”

Cetina looked to the bed cloth near Anton’s head, stained deep red with blood.

“It might have to be done over a few days.” Anton smiled at a slightly concerned Cetina. “Otherwise you might kill me through blood-loss.”

Cetina sighed. “Verona might have better chances of stemming the loss of blood.”

A gentle wave of air managed to waft its way through a small crack in the tent cloth. The faint movement of air brought fresh air against his open would, but fresh burst of pain told him all the cubes were gone, not that he doubted Cetina. Still, it was better to be extra sure. As he didn’t have a mirror, Anton hadn’t seen his own face outside of a few pieces of polished metal and the occasional still pool of water, he could only use his fingers. He lightly dabbed at his bloody flesh, Cetina pulled an extremely worried face, but couldn’t find anything. It was almost impossible to miss such thing.

Anton chanted the healing prayer aloud, just to heal the fresh wound. The magic left his body as he felt his wound begin to close and heal. However Cetina continued to look on with worry.

“Some left?”

“No…No.” Cetina leant very close. “There’s still a mark...Like a scar. Quite a nasty one too.”

Cetina ran a finger of the horizon scar crossing her nose, a scar that she asked Anton to preserve. “I don’t think I left any of the cubes behind. Do you think there might have been some left?”

“There might have been some simply too small for even you to see.” Anton looked to the pile of blood stained white cubes. “But there’s quite a bit of flesh on those so I don’t think so.”

“I did my best.” Cetina winced. “It was so difficult…”

Anton rose up, gently waving away her concerns with his remaining hand. “It’s fine, just another thing that’s happened to me.”

Anton lightly tapped his boots on the bed. “Just like these. And this too…Kind of like everything strange has happened to me after meeting you, isn’t it?”

“You make it sound like I’m cursed.” Cetina’s shoulders drooped. “For a long time I thought I was. I certainly hope I’m not.”

“You’re not. But it kind of brings us to the next thing.”

“Which is?” Cetina’s eye flicked to his stump. “Oh…Oh no. I think I know what you want…”

“The Chelium edge should cut right through it.” Anton found himself almost smiling as Cetina’s face continued to grow more worrisome. “And then I’ll be able to heal it better. Well, I hope it comes better.”

“You want me to cut your arm off?”

“Only a part.”

“I-”

“It’s not going to be any good like this.” Anton waved it about, much to Cetina’s distress. “Just one quick cut and then it’ll be like new.”

Cetina sighed. “I still can’t believe how calm you are about this.”

“It’s easier to think about having my hand back.” Anton lightly rubbed the stump. “Though losing my wedding ring is a little annoying. You can still contact Verona and Kal, right?”

“Do you want me to? I really think I should before doing…” Cetina pointed to his stump. “That.”

“Not a good idea. They’ll definitely say no.” Anton stood up. “Unless they want to get Ferula’s help.”

Cetina grunted as she retrieved her Chelium edged sword. “I wonder if that little girl is alright. She could have been, if she allowed either you or Kal to heal her. It would have taken just a heartbeat.”

“Or the swing of a sword?” Anton chuckled and smiled, much to Cetina’s annoyance.

“Really…”

Anton rested his stump over the edge of a table and nodded at Cetina. She raised her sword, careful not to tear the tent cloth above them, and gave a final concerned look. Anton merely replied with a nod; there was no immediate way to restore his hand and it would only be a few centimetres at most of a useless arm.

“This is going to be difficult.” Cetina’s shoulders relaxed. “Flesh won’t be so hard but you have bones in your arm. I might not be able to cut through with just one swing, and I don’t want to hack at it.”

“Just do it in one then. You’re starting to make me nervous.” Anton placed a wad of cloth in his mouth. “Just in case. And something else.”

Anton chanted a prayer to dull his senses. His entire body felt like it was under some kind of anaesthetic, enough to dull what was about to come.

“Can’t believe I’m doing this…”

Cetina inhaled deeply, grit her teeth and swung the sword down with all the might her muscles could offer. Anton only caught a brief flash of blue cutting through his arm and striking the ground. For a moment he felt nothing, then a blinding burst of pain. Though incredibly sharp the sword could not make the cut painless. Anton bit down hard onto the cloth, nearly cutting through it entirely.

“Fuck.” Anton groaned, spitting the cloth free. “That hurts so much more than getting shot with a bolt.”

“Of course it does!” Cetina dropped the sword and held his arm tight as blood began to flow forth in great gushes. “I just cut off part of your arm.”

None of the white cubes remained on his body, the small disk of flesh lay on the ground, and Anton chanted a healing prayer through gasps. His mana behaved normally, out of a glowing white light his hand regrew. It was truly a unique experience, one he hoped not to repeat. As the light faded and his hand returned, minus his wedding ring, both could only frown.

“That’s…”

Cetina tapped her finger on his wrist, where the layer of white cubes once lay. While most of his hand was back, alongside the three small marks of his gods, his wrist was not. A thick scar now ran around his wrist, gnarled and raw. Annoyingly it didn’t disappear with a subsequent attempt at healing.

Anton sighed, rubbing the scar tissue. “Must be like my feet and tail. Can’t be fixed. Guess I'll be wearing gloves until I can fix this properly.”

Anton flexed his fingers, his very bones groaned and creaked, like his bones were now tiny cubes grinding amongst themselves. Anton couldn’t determine if his bones had actually been replaced but it was noticeably difficult to move his fingers and brought him some pain. The pain and impediment didn’t dissipate with a third subsequent healing.

“Just another thing to irritate me…”

“What did Ferula say?” Cetina held and gently massaged his wrist. “That you’re soul, or whatever, has been changed. Do you think that’s what that type of magic does? Corrupts the soul?”

“Maybe.” Anton shrugged. “Ferula said that it couldn’t be undone.” Anton sighed again. “Looks like this is permanent. Again. At least for now.”

Cetina raised a brow.

“Surely there exists a way to undo this, somewhere in this world. There is a God of Time, after all. Just a matter of finding where that answer might lie. There might be something in the magic that caused this. Maybe.”

“Maybe…But.” Cetina shook her head. “I think I’ve had enough of mutilating my charge for today. I think you should have some rest.”

“I feel fine.” Anton smiled. “We’re going to break camp soon anyway. We can’t just be sitting here waiting, even though we aren’t the one’s who will pull down this tent.”

Cetina held his arm. “I really think you should. And not just because of the wounds.”

“I…” Anton felt his shoulders droop underneath Cetina’s worried stare. “Okay. If my bodyguard says so then I’ll do it.”

---[]---

Cetina watched the moment Anton fell asleep. The frowns, creases and muscles contorting his face fell limp, his breathing calmed as his head turned to one side. Right now he looked exceedingly calm, the complete opposite of what he had become, multiple times in just one day. The kind and somewhat strange man had disappeared in an instant, consumed by an unnatural cruelty and desire to inflict suffering. Anton had, at least before, tried to keep himself detached; leaving her father to deal out justice to the bandits attacking their caravan when they first met, leaving the strange fanatical city in Graterious without interfering and keeping calm in the heart of Danafra. She expected him to be angry, she was too, but not to such a level. There was no need to burn someone alive while taunting the other.

“I thought you were about to hit me with magic.” Cetina barely spoke above a whisper. “When I killed that man, stopping you from torturing his brother. That you actually wanted to hurt me. But I know you wouldn't...”

Cetina gently stroked his forehead with the back of her hand, it was covered in a thin layer of sweat brought on by Cetina’s actions. She stood up, acutely aware at how noisy her metal armour was despite her efforts to move silently, and dampened a towel with water. When she returned Anton was mumbling something. At first she thought it merely the incomprehensible ramblings of someone's dreams but these were actual thoughts.

“I'm sorry.” Anton mumbled.

Cetina smiled faintly, gently dabbing away the worst patches on his face.

There's nothing to be sorry about. I think most people would simply-

“I’m so sorry.” Anton's voice was nothing more than a whimper. “I didn't mean it.”

Cetina removed the damp cloth. He wasn't talking about the fight. No, it was something far more painful than that. Tears began to weep from his eyes.

“It, it wasn't meant to be like this. Why? Why did you have to come here?”

What are you saying?

“Why didn't you just let me rot? Like I...Deserve.”

Anton said nothing more, only weak sparse whimpers escaped his lips until he fell completely silent and escaped whatever nightmare consumed his slumbering thoughts.

Verona mentioned this to me one night, I think she was a little tired and bored. He never talked about his past, otherwise he has those panic attacks and yet...

Cetina pursed her lips.

Do I tell them? And what would I say? What could they do? What can I do?

Cetina sighed, resting her head in her hand and looking at the source of her current dilemma.

I'm certain you would know what to say in times like these. You knew what to say to me so I didn't fall into despair and the bottle.

Cetina simply watched Anton sleep peacefully, completely unaware of the worries now plaguing her thoughts.