The first time Theori had seen Belmont, the man had been tumbling down the dune like a cannon ball with an Ursod only steps behind him. Theori had been stirring the camp stew, tossing in chunks of meat and vegetables and thickening the bubbling stock over a low fire.

Seven had been the first to notice the crazed man, and was equally quick to react. Crackling energy lept from his hands and struck the beast down, leaving the camp smelling of burned hair and crisped fat. Belmont seemed unfazed.

This, however, wasn’t the first time that Theori had truly seen the man he came to know as Belmont. It was after the snake appeared. Mephisto. If Theori had to put a finger on it, the first time he genuinely saw Belmont was when he took a harpoon and pierced the side of the Ursod as it charged him moments later. This was the Belmont that he would come to know and understand.

Skill can be faked. Resoluteness is fickle in the face of mortality. What Theori saw was determination. Anger and confusion, as well, but it was the determination that made him look at Belmont differently than he had just a moment before, and he knew that Gracious, the leader of the group, had seen it, too.

That’s why it came as no surprise for him to see Belmont walking out of camp with Gracious the next morning, shortly after the group returned from the early hunt. He wasn’t sure how that would end, given Gracious’ habit of stitching up complications before they got out of hand, but it wasn’t Theori’s business. He was the muscle, and he owed nothing to either of the men. So, he went back to cooking the stew after dragging Julo into Scalp’s tent to get his leg patched up. If he’d have known what he would learn a few hours later, he would have done things differently.

Theori didn’t like that about himself. When he looked at Belmont, he saw determination. When he looked back at how he’d been treating others since he joined Black Lerabo, he didn’t see what he saw in Belmont. He’d been acting cowardly, and it took a person like Belmont to make him realize that.

So, when Belmont stood against Seven after saying that he’d already killed Porvo, Nim, and Gracious, Theori knew he had to change his attitude. Not because there was some fear of Belmont that drove his actions, but because he knew that what had happened had been the right thing. He knew that Belmont, a stranger, had done in a day what others had spent years avoiding.

On an Extinction World, there are no rules. Evil walks through the wildlands with the same gait it uses to skulk through the halls of politicians. It’s easy to let that happen, because it was what was expected. It doesn’t matter that on any other civilized world it would be punished. On an Extinction World, it was just how things were done.

So Theori drew his axe and held it against Seven.

“Leave.”

It wasn’t the first time he’d had to settle Seven, but it was the first time in a long time that he’d stood up for someone other than himself.

Because of Belmont.

The next few hours had been a blur. The plan, while rudimentary, was as good as anything that he could have come up with on his own. Julo had actually surprised him with his tactical acumen. The man portrayed the simple blacksmith so well that Theori had almost pushed back on his suggestions out of principal until he realized that the man was right when he called out the archer’s vantage spots.

When Theori had next seen Belmont step out of the forest with Mephisto, blood on his knife and hands, he didn’t see the dead eyes of a man well in over his head. He saw that same determination from the night before. It was easy to feel calm at that moment. To believe that it was all under control. Mephisto went after the archer, Belmont took care of the back line. Just like the plan. Never a faltering step.

It was only a few minutes later, and he was chasing Seven away from the camp again. He didn’t want to kill the boy, but he wouldn’t have hesitated if he’d caught him. There was something inside of the Mage that shook him, a kind of twisted, hateful rage.

He turned back to Belmont, still standing with his arm outstretched, still covered in blood, looking every bit the hero of the battle that he was.

And he laughed. The moment was too perfect not too. It was a deep laugh that came from somewhere in his past.

The laugh was cut short when Belmont didn’t move. Instead, rigid as stone, he fell to the side, landing with a thud in the damp sand, and started foaming from the mouth.

The snake, Mephisto, was on his chest faster than anyone could reach him. It reared up at Julo and himself, hissing and spitting as it defended its master. When he took a step forward, the serpent struck outward like lightning, fending off his progress. In the end, the only person who could get close to Bel had been Scalp, or Yillie, as he liked to be called.

“What happened?” He asked, though he already knew.

Yillie confirmed it. “Aether sickness.”

Julo cautiously stepped towards the fallen man, still wary of the snake. “How?”

Yillie shook his head while taking vitals. “No idea, but there is much that I do not know about Belmont. I don’t think he is playing by the same rules as the rest of us, or if he is, he has bent them.”

Theori took a step back and turned his gaze towards the forest. He wasn’t looking for Seven anymore, but giving himself a clean view to clear his mind.

Yillie had told everyone that Bel had been Tier Zero, and most of the men had chalked up his kill of the Ursod to one-in-a-million luck, himself included. Then, when he said he’d killed Gracious, as well as Porvo and Nim, he’d been suspicious, but again sided on luck, or even help, from Mephisto.

After this battle, though, he knew Yillie was right. There was something else to him.

He turned back. “What can I do to help?”

Yillie looked at both him and Julo. “Were there any other salves in the supplies?”

He and Julo shook their heads in the negative.

Yillie sighed. “Carry him back to my tent, then, gently. And find some fresh water, something not half-way to mud like we’ve been drinking.”

They walked to Bel, careful of Mephisto, though the snake had calmed dramatically. Julo took his feet and Theori put his hands under his shoulder. They lifted in unison and carried him quickly to Yillie’s tent. Theori looked back to the tree line as they entered. He wondered if Seven was watching, or if he’d ran. He didn’t like the prospects of either scenario.

They placed Bel down on the cot and Yillie walked over. “Give me some room. I need to study him. And get me that damned water!”

----------------------------------------

It was several more hours before Belmont awoke. The rain had stopped, clearing the sky overhead of clouds, and leaving them in the distance for the setting sun to color in shades of fuchsia and garnet.

Theori was sitting on a stump of driftwood outside of the tent when he heard Belmont make the first sound he had since the battle come from within.

“Fuck.”

Yillie stepped from the tent. “He’s awake. Bring some stew and we’ll see if he can keep it down.”

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Theori walked to the bubbling pot and scooped some of it into a bowl. The steam from it rose, and in the early evening chill, it condensed on the front of his armor as he carried it to the tent.

Inside, Bel was sitting on the edge of the cot with his leather armor and shirts folded in a pile beside him, the snake curled up on the other side. Julo and Yillie had taken up seats in some of the simple chairs that the doctor had brought with him.

Slight bruises covered Bel’s torso and biceps, typical of battle, but aside from that, he was unmarred. Theori handed the bowl over to him, and Bel took it gently. He paused with it in front of his face and inhaled the vapors.

“Thank you, chef.”

Theori smiled and gave a quick bow before returning to the flap.

Bel called from behind, “Don’t leave. We need to talk. All of us.”

Theori turned around and looked at the others, who then, in turn looked to Bel.

Bel took a slurping spoonful of the steamy stew and let his head lull backwards with his eyes closed. “Goddamn, that’s a good stew.”

Theori chuckled. “Thanks.”

Bel took another bite and set the bowl down beside him. “Alright. I need to get this all sorted out, because I have no idea what the fuck is going on. I probably shouldn’t just start trusting strangers. Yillie has warned me against it already, but I’m not going to get anywhere without some hard facts, and fast. So, fuck it. If it’s naïve, then it’s naïve, but I can’t just jump in the water without knowing what's at the bottom, you know? So, if any of you have any plans to betray me, or sell me to the king, or whatever, just fucking tell me now. I can barely lift a spoon, so I won’t put up much of a fight.”

Theori felt his chest tighten. He looked at Julo and Yillie. “If either of you are gonna try anything, you’ll have to go through me.”

Julo chuckled and looked at Yillie. “Me, too. So, don’t do anything stupid, Yillie.”

Yillie held up his hands. “I just saved his life. Why are you all looking at me?”

Bel laughed, and then winced and held his ribs.

“Besides, I think Mephisto might have something to say about it if any of us did.”

Bel looked at the snake curled up on the cot beside him. It was nearly as large as the man, but looked small on the bed next to him. Bel reached over and ran a hand along the snake, who flitted his tongue.

“Meph is my best friend, and honestly, probably the only thing keeping me sane at the moment. So, yeah, we’re a package deal.”

“Is that what we need to talk about? Young Mephisto?” Yillie asked.

Bel nodded. “Yeah, kinda. I guess I should start at the beginning.”

Theori listened as Bel recounted the last day, literally. From a separation with his partner, to a murder in a tavern, and then the end of his world. He talked about a prison, but when he got to the Luminis judge, Yillie stopped him.

“You met a Luminis? One of the First Victors?”

Bel nodded. Theori had heard of them, but had never seen one. Judging by Julo and Yillie’s reaction, neither had they.

Julo interrupted, “What was it like?”

Bel thought for a moment. “Like a sentient cloud with anger issues? I don’t know. It was the first real alien-type thing I’d ever seen. Honestly, I still can’t really parse it. It was scary as fuck, though, that’s for sure.” He reached over and ran a hand across Mephisto. Theori was starting to understand their relationship now.

Bel continued through the story, talking about the binding and the mark of judgement, and stopped there to ask a question.

“What does the mark mean, exactly? Something about 100 years of penance, or whatever.”

Theori had never heard of a mark before. Julo and Yillie both looked at each other, though, and the younger man answered the question.

“The mark and the hundred years are two different things. The hundred years have already passed. It explains why you weren’t here to claim your kingdom. You’ve been asleep the whole time.”

Bel leaned back and shook his head. “Fucking dickhead judge.” There was another moment, and then he looked at everyone. “I’m old as fuck, then.”

Yillie smiled. “Time and age are relative. Some people will spend a thousand years in stasis between stars. They aren’t a thousand years older when they arrive.”

Bel lowered his eyes. “Right. Everyone’s a fuckin’ alien.” He looked at the three men again. “You all are from different planets? Not from here? Eon?”

All of them nodded, and Bel held up a hand. “We’ll circle back to that. What about the mark?”

Julo continued. “A mark is a guild thing, sort of. You’ve been marked by a Luminis. The Luminis control Aurorium, the largest of the main guilds. That means that if someone were to kill you, they could take your mark to the guild for a bounty. Because you are low level, the bounty wouldn’t be much, but because it comes from Aurorium, it would be substantial for someone who isn’t a part of that guild.”

Bel sighed and said, “Awesome,” then paused before continuing. “How do you know all this?”

“I’ve been with Mythra for a while now. I’ve seen a few marks come across my anvil. Most people, in lieu of taking a cash payout, will get some equipment. The exchange rate is better, because the equipment is free advertising for the guild. So, I would forge stuff for anyone with a bounty to claim.”

Bel sighed again. “Right, Mythra. We’re gonna have to come back to that one, too. But at least now I understand the mark.”

Theori listened as he continued on with the story, until ending with, “…and I couldn’t move. I was just frozen there. I remember falling, but not hitting the ground. Then I woke up.”

Yillie nodded along and then leaned back in his chair. “There is still one thing you aren’t telling us.”

Bel looked at him and then held up his hand. “Yeah. The ring. I skipped it because I have a feeling it’s going to get the most questions, and I can’t answer any of them. It’s called Ring of the Concordant. It has an inscription around the inside: ‘Alone we can do so little; together, we can do so much.’ A woman from my world, Helen Keller, was the one who said it. Aside from that, though, I have no idea what it does. What I can tell you, though, is that it lets me share perception with Meph here. When I’m wearing it, I can see heat, and at night. I can smell and taste more—”

Theori cut him off. “Is that why you like the stew so much?”

Bel smiled. He tugged the ring off and blinked a few times before picking up the stew and eating another bite. “Nope, still great stew, chef.”

That was a good feeling.

Bel slid the ring back on. “So, that’s all I’ve got. What happened, doc? Why did I black out again?”

Yillie took a moment while looking at the ceiling, and then answered. “Exhaustion. Not the normal kind, though. It comes from pushing your Aether too hard. You have a bond, which is typically safe, however, with the ring, and its enhancements to the bond, you over exerted yourself. You were pulling so much Aether into your body, and releasing it just as quickly, that it worked like a siphon, and you couldn’t close it off until you were empty.”

“Fuck.”

“Yeah. Fuck.” Yillie continued. “The two men you met, Balthazar and Melchior. Do you have any way to contact them? They seem like they are guild related. Are they with Mythra?”

Bel quickly shook his head. “No, I don’t think they are. At least, I hope not. And no, I can’t contact them. The only thing I have is my phone and GASPAR, whatever that is.”

Julo chimed in. “The would have been cut off from the planet yesterday, literally. Just as Bel’s hundred years ended. The judge timed it like that, I’d bet.”

“Goddamnit.”

Theori saw the regret crossing Bel’s face, and he put a hand on his shoulder. “You did the right thing, telling the judge off. Maybe it didn’t work out in your favor, but we shouldn’t ever turn down an opportunity to stand up for ourselves.” He said it to Bel, but he needed to hear it just as much himself.

Bel smiled. “Yeah. Well, maybe next time I can temper my words a little better.”

Julo chuckled. “Any blacksmith will tell you, tempering needs fire. Lower the heat, and you’ll get brittle steel.”

Bel sat quietly for a moment, and Theori tried to think of something to say, but nothing sounded right in his head. It was good, though. Sometimes silence was nice.

Bel reached down and ran his hand across the snake again before speaking. “Alright. How long will it take to get to Tothers?”

Theori looked at him. The determination in his eyes was back. “You’re still going to go?”

Bel nodded. “I’ve gotta see this through. If not for me…” he trailed off.

“The villagers.” Theori finished.

“Yeah. Good King Graham has to answer for that shit.”

Theori felt a warm sensation in his chest, and it stirred something within. “We can do it in four days if the weather doesn’t turn bad.” His response was resolute.

Bel looked at him. “You’re coming with me, then?”

Theori looked at Julo and Yillie. They both nodded. “Yeah. We are. There is something we need to figure out first, though.”

Bel looked at him. “What is it?”

“Seven. He’ll move faster than us, and you can bet that the first thing he does is run to the guild, and they’ll go straight to the king. By the time we get there, we’ll be wanted men.”

Yillie and Julo nodded in agreement.

Bel sighed. “Shit.” He looked at everyone. “I'm sorry I dragged you all into this. I didn't think about it.” Meph flitted his tongue and bumped his nose against Bel's arm, as if dismissing the apology. Theori wonder just how much of that was because of the bond, and how much was just their relationship.

Julo shook his head. “We knew what we were getting into. The moment we heard Gracious was dead, we knew there would be questions. We’ll have to clear our names, or figure something else out.”

Yillie leaned forward. “I was never much for the guild life, anyway. Besides, I’m the king’s man, and as far as I’m concerned, that hasn’t changed. It just so happens, I quite like the new king.”

Bel laughed.

“Theori. Is it going to be a problem for you?”

Theori felt his chest tighten. The guild was his life. It had given him everything—his place, his purpose.

And yet…

He thought of Gracious, of Nim. Of all the men he’d fought beside, knowing full well what they were. He thought of Belmont, standing bloodied on the beach, and of the clear certainty in his eyes.

He exhaled and nodded. “No, not a problem. Let’s get some rest. We’ll strike camp in the morning and make our preparations, then.”