A few hours passed before it was time to eat dinner, during which Stefan and Leon introduced themselves to some of their new Black Shield comrades. With the non-Shield away from their premises, the soldiers were free to wander about with their masks off. Stefan was surprised to realize that most of them were not that much older than him, with the oldest of the common soldiers being no older than their early twenties. Jayant, who was aged 30, was the most ancient of the known organization. He had a thick black mustache and a small goatee which framed his chestnut-colored chin, which was a tad darker than Anwen’s. A short mop of curly hair covered his scalp. His appearance confirmed to Stefan that she originated from the south, but that raised more questions. What was Gareth doing in the south ten years ago? Why was he there? Stefan knew that northerners weren’t fond of southerners and probably would’ve shunned and even ostracized her if it weren’t for Gareth. None of that mattered to Stefan, though. She grew up in the north of Yeupis, and to him, she was just as northern as he was.
The way the dinner was arranged was strange to those like Stefan and Leon. Long, rug-like coverings were placed on the floor, concealing it from one end to the other. There were small gaps between each covering, allowing for people to sit on either side. Food and drink were set on the coverings. It was unheard for northerners to eat on the floor, but to southerners like Jayant, this was routine. In fact, this arrangement was his own doing, something he’d overseen for the multiple years he’d been at the Black Shield. Every member of the Shield, save for the Anbieter himself was present. Apparently, he only ever ate in his quarters. No one except for Jayant had ever seen his face, and he was intent on keeping it that way.
Stefan and Leon sat on either side of Jayant as they all took part in a meal of pottage, consisting of a thick stew made from preserved vegetables and grains. Although it hardly tasted edible, it was filling—essential for warriors who needed the energy for daily training.
“I… had no idea southerners ate like this,” Leon noted. “It’s so communal, so harmonious…”
“How did you think we eat?” Jayant asked with a smile.
“I—I don’t know, just not like this. It’s so far from the idea that I have of the south.”
“It ain’t common at all for northerners to interact with southerners,” Jay remarked. “Especially with these mountains. Oh, and their existence with the Titanians too.”
“My parents went on a trading mission to the south years ago, to a town they’d heard of called Gyetsa. They never came back…” Leon said, as the mere mention of the mountains reminded him of their disappearance.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Leon. The northerners might know us for their mingling with the Titanians, but that ain’t all true. Just look at me, for example.”
After dinner was finished, they helped their comrades clean up the hall, reverting it to its use as a common room. Jayant escorted Stefan and Leon to their room, which they would be sharing. It was just large enough for two small beds, a gaslit lamp and a tiny closet that was hardly large enough to fit a person. The lack of a window caused Leon to be somewhat unsettled, but it was no issue for Stefan who had lived in Gareth’s base for half a year.
“This is going to take some getting used to.” Leon sighed, plopping down on his bed.
He looked to see if Stefan had heard him speak, but found him looking at the ground pointlessly, still standing at the doorway.
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“Stefan?” Leon called his friend’s name.
“Oh, sorry.” Stefan said, guiding himself to his new bed. “You said something?”
“Oh, no,” Leon said, tossing away any care he had for his feelings at that moment. His friend needed his attention. Remembering Anwen’s words to him before she left, he knew that this was what she informed him of. “Are you… thinking about them?”
“Why wouldn’t I be?” Stefan groaned. “Look at where we’re at now. Gareth’s doing something he doesn’t want to do, and Anwen might die if he messes up. All because of me.”
“It’s not your fault. It’s no one’s. But if I were to put a finger on anyone… it’d have to be Anwen. Only she would dare the leader of an armed resistance to do something so risky. She’s not as stubborn as Gareth, but she’s just as impulsive.”
Stefan stared at his clenched fists as his face became flushed, hot tears forming at the corners of his eyes. These were not tears of sadness—they were tears of despair and helplessness.
“Why the hell am I so important? Who decided that I out of all people had to be this—this asset, this thing that had to be found at all costs? Some alien rulers I’ve never met…? This whole thing, while my own family is nowhere to be seen?”
Stefan in his blind fury punched the seamless, grey dolomite walls carved from the structure of the mountain the base was in, causing a crater to form in them. He threw another punch, and then another. His knuckles became bloody, and the walls became harder to recognize.
“Stefan!” Leon called out. “Stop!”
Another dent in the wall formed.
“Stefan! I know this hurts you so much but get yourself together!” Leon said, walking up to Stefan from behind, pressing his shoulders tightly.
“Wh-What?” Stefan said, turning around. Another tear fell from his wet, red face.
Leon had to think quickly before Stefan continued with his miserable frenzy. Thankfully, his grandfather’s training had prepared him to come up with something fast.
“I—I know I’m not like you. I can’t even begin to think of relating to you. But I know pain when I see it. I can’t do much for you, but together, we can stop others from being hurt, too. Take a breather, please.”
“How are we going to do that?” Stefan said, wiping his face with the back of his bruised hand.
“Gareth said you’d be able to set up a contract so I can use this thing,” he said, waving around the Utrium ring on the index finger of his right hand. “Show me how it’s done.”
With a solemn look remaining on his face, Stefan nodded. He hated being unable to do anything for himself, but he despised not being able to good for others even more. By making a contract with Leon, he could make the latter happen. From helping haul goods on behalf of the people of Derban, to that fateful afternoon where he had attempted to collect wood for his mother, serving others was the only thing Stefan believed himself to be good at.
“Hold out your right hand.” Stefan instructed. Leon did as he was asked. Stefan then hovered one of his hands above Leon’s and drops of blood fell onto the older boy’s fingers, but mostly on the bezel which adorned one of them. After a waiting period of several seconds, the Utrium on the ring began to glow, somewhat like Stefan’s Initiation but with much less intensity, and Leon did not feel any pain. The hand from which Stefan bled began to throb achingly, but he kept it above the Utrium piece until it was completely saturated in the red substance. As soon as it was done, Stefan stumbled backwards onto his bed. Leon instinctively and immediately reached for his first aid kit. He cleaned the blood off his skin before he grabbed a small bottle of some sort of salve and applied it to Stefan’s hands gently.
“H-How long will this take?” Leon asked Stefan.
“As long as I allow it to take.” Stefan said through clenched teeth.
Leon was amazed to see that in less than a minute, Stefan’s wounds closed, leaving barely visible scar tissue where his bloody wounds once were. Leon’s eyes dilated with astonishment.
“It—it worked!” Leon said with astonishment. “This is the power of evil magic!”
“It’s not evil magic,” Stefan said. “It’s Utrium. And… here comes the drawback.”
Stefan’s eyes closed, as if made to by an invisible force. He collapsed onto his side on the bed. Instead of panicking, Leon smiled. He knew fatigue when he saw it.
“I’ll let you rest, Stefan,” he said pleasantly. “You did well, brother.”