Chapter 41 - Tattoo

Forest Outside Magrath, Vanstead Dukedom of Augustein Year 995

The next evening, Amara and Isolde stepped into the clearing only to find that Glenn was already there. The man straightened from where he’d been hunched over something, coughing a few times as he spun around and bowed in greeting.

“Good evening,” he said. Amara raised an eyebrow, peering behind him, and her eyebrows lifted higher.

Where there had once been only plain grass and trees with a few occasional stones to break up the monotony, there now stood a small wooden weapons rack with a few different items placed inside, including wooden practice blades and what looked like real metal spears and even a bow. Lying next to the rack was a closed box that had a small white piece slipping out from its edges that looked like a bandage. A first aid box, she assumed. Beyond that, a few rolled up mats had also been placed along the grass, and one of the tree trunks had even been wrapped with one, the mat tied off and secured with a thick rope.

It was minimal, all things considered, but it looked much more like a proper training ground now. Amara’s eyes shifted over to the edge of the clearing, where she met eyes with Levent, who was seated in the same spot as the day before. He just shook his head when she gestured unsubtly at all the new stuff, his expression a mix of exasperation and amusement.

“Good evening,” Isolde greeted. “I don’t seem to remember so many items in this area.”

Glenn cleared his throat. “I thought it might be nice to add a few more things to…spruce it up.” His words trailed, like he wasn’t sure if he was using the phrase right, and Amara resisted the urge to snort.

“That’s kind of impressive, though. Did you carry all this stuff here?” Amara couldn’t help but wonder what the residents of Magrath must’ve thought, seeing the younger brother of Lord Alardice and a prominent guard in his own right walking down the streets with a weapons rack on his back.

“Well,” Glenn said. “Levent helped too.”

Amara spun around to face the man, staring pointedly at his shoulder. He scowled and narrowed his eyes, a clear unspoken, “I dare you to say something.” Amara just shrugged and decided to leave the topic alone. Maybe he’d taken her advice and gotten Monica to look at it. She certainly didn’t notice him favoring one arm over the other, at least, not that that always meant much. From her experience, people could get very good at hiding injuries.

“Regardless,” Glenn continued, “I believe we should start training soon, before time escapes us again.”

“Ah, right.” Amara glanced up at the sky, then back down. It was one of those rare nights where the moon was perfectly still, its silver light outlining the grasses in a constant, consistent manner. It did provide better lighting overall, but nights like these always felt terribly dead to her. As if time itself had simply stopped.

In the corner of her eye, she noticed Isolde stepping over to the other side of the clearing, her spear unfurled. She got in a ready stance and began working through some drills, apparently content to leave the magic teaching to Glenn. Earlier in the day, they’d already discussed the issue of revealing her unconventional output, and apparently she was satisfied enough to trust Amara to deal with it.

She watched the woman a little longer, then turned back to Glenn, noting that Levent was also watching Isolde warily. She reached into her pouch and pulled out a new energy ore before setting the bag aside.

The “solution” to the problem of her output, Amara had decided, would be to default to using external range at such a short distance that it wasn’t noticeable. Given her low proficiency in that skill, if she failed to use reduction, then the resulting blast would be minor. That was the hope, at least.

Amara tossed the ore up, watching the way it gleamed in the moonlight, then caught it again. The memory of that strange pattern in Glenn’s aura was still sharp in her mind.

She nodded at the guard.

“Okay,” she said. “Let’s get started.”

—

The ore shattered, the broken red pieces scattering atop the grasses and glinting like glass. Amara sighed and wiped some sweat away from her forehead. Even her gloves felt sticky, and she regretted not just getting shorter ones—it wasn’t like she’d ever cared about the stares to begin with.

Beneath the fabric, she could feel her markings fading away as the glow of her magic died down. Although the numbers were covered, she already knew that reduction would still be at a steady 0%. She frowned. She still hadn’t managed to figure out how to warp her aura into that rippling pattern. Not yet, at least.

“I believe that should be enough for today,” Glenn said. His brows were furrowed slightly, and Amara belatedly realized that it was with concern.

She glanced up at the moon, then back down. “It’s earlier than yesterday,” she pointed out. She noticed Isolde putting her spear away and Levent rising in her peripheral vision. This was an argument she wasn’t going to win, it seemed.

“Still, it isn’t good to overuse magic.”

Levent strode up to the two of them, and Amara thought she heard him mutter something under his breath. Behind her, she heard Isolde approach as well, and she sighed.

“Okay okay.” Amara bent down to grab her bag and her covered axe, though considering the new array of equipment in the clearing, she probably hadn’t needed to bring it to begin with. She gestured at the weapon rack. “Are you just leaving this stuff here?” They hadn’t even gotten a chance to use it yet.

Glenn nodded. “These are extras. The guards won’t miss them.” Behind him, Amara saw Levent turn, about to leave, and she blurted out before she could think otherwise.

“Hey, since it’s not too late, do you want to stay and eat dinner or something?” She could feel Isolde’s piercing eyes watching at her, but she ignored it. “I think I’ve seen a few restaurants still open at night.”

Glenn furrowed his brow in thought, and he and Levent exchanged looks.

“Well,” the guard finally said, his words slow and careful. “I don’t see why not.”

Amara turned to Isolde, the last in their little training group. She raised an eyebrow, gesturing for the woman to give an opinion. After a few moments of silence, she nodded, and the calm smile returned.

“If we’re all in agreement, then we should leave soon before everything closes,” she said.

The group of four exited the clearing, leaving the training equipment lying under the still light. They didn’t speak much as they strode through the forest, branches rustling around them as they walked. By the time they reached Magrath proper, Amara could see that there were indeed still a few people strolling about, and she could hear distant laughter from the tavern at the other end of the street. Certainly it was much more lively than when they usually returned from training.

The four of them turned, heading towards the southern part of town. Amara noted with some amusement that Isolde was the one leading the group to the restaurant, despite both Glenn and Levent knowing the town better. Her eyes drifted over to the woman, her long, dark hair swaying gently behind her as she walked. This was a different direction than she’d expected, and she wondered if the woman was trying to avoid restaurants too close to the inn they were staying at.

As they walked, more than a few heads turned their way. Amara caught some passersby nodding or even bowing when they saw Glenn, who was quick to dismiss the gestures with a practiced wave that spoke of many similar occurrences.

In contrast, Levent kept his eyes straight ahead, not acknowledging any of the stares save for his shoulders tensing slightly. That tension only grew the closer to the restaurant they got, and by the time they came to a stop in front of the building, Amara could see that his fingers were clenched into a fist at his sides.

The restaurant was one of the shorter buildings along the road, more long than it was tall, and cloudy windows decorated its front. A string of vines grew along the overhang, climbing down and wrapping around the corners of the building, which Amara thought gave it a rather charming touch. The wooden sign was intricately carved with floral patterns in its corners, and the name of the restaurant was etched in elegant, looping letters. The Storm Rose, it read. When Amara stepped closer, she noted that the letters had been painted with a blue paint that turned silver when the light hit it just right.

“Ah, I believe I’ve heard of this place,” Glenn remarked as they stepped up to the door. He pulled the handle, gesturing for the others to enter. “It’s fairly new. I’ve never had a chance to come here myself.”

“Well, it’ll be a first for all of us,” Isolde said, nodding as a waitress brought them over to a table by the corner. Amara’s eyes turned every which way, taking in the mahogany furnishings and the tall candles. More than a few patrons glanced their way, and even after Glenn dismissed some of the by-now expected nods and greetings, many of the stares remained.

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Levent sat down first, positioning himself by the foggy window. The angle obscured his tattoo, but that didn’t stop patrons from shooting glances at him. He was well enough known to be recognizable even without the tattoo visible, it seemed.

“—heard their seafood is quite good,” Glenn was saying to Isolde as the two of them sat down as well. Glenn and Levent were on one side of the table while Isolde and Amara were seated on the other.

Isolde raised an eyebrow as she picked up the menu. “I wouldn’t have expected that, this far from the coast.”

“Apparently they have fresh fish delivered by someone with a motion affinity to reduce travel time.”

That would certainly explain the prices, Amara thought as she flipped through the menu herself. She raised an eyebrow. If Colm were here, the boy would be bristling at the sheer audacity of some of those numbers.

“Wow, it’s expensive,” Amara said, voice blunt. Across the table, Levent snorted, his own eyes barely glancing at the menu. Glenn looked embarrassed.

“Please don’t feel pressured by the prices, I’ll gladly pay for everyone.”

Amara raised an eyebrow. “Really? Huh, well, thanks then.” She returned to staring at the menu, and she heard Isolde chuckle softly beside her.

“That’s very generous of you,” the woman said. “We aren’t particularly wealthy, I’m afraid.”

Glenn nodded seriously. “I understand. Before L—my father,” he corrected, “found me, I was little more than a street urchin myself.”

That piqued Amara’s interest, and she sat up straighter.

“So you weren’t raised in the manor?”

The guard shook his head. “I grew up by the Aeramire border,” he explained, his brows furrowing in thought. “I’d never known my parents, so it was a bit of a shock when one day a watchman told me that a noble claiming to be my father was searching for me.”

“I didn’t think things like that really happened,” Amara said. She paused. “Wait, by Aeramire? You’re from there too, right?” She turned to Levent, who scowled at her.

“How do you keep finding these things out?” he muttered, and she sensed he was barely holding back the urge to curse. She grinned.

“I have my ways.”

The servant gave an exasperated sigh. “Yes, I did grow up there,” he confirmed. “I didn’t meet Glenn until I ended up in Vanstead, though.”

Beside him, Glenn smiled. “Well, we didn’t meet, but I’d heard of him before.”

Isolde finally looked up from her menu. “Is that so? Are you well known?” Her eyes briefly darted over to Levent, who frowned, not meeting her gaze.

“In that region of Aeramire, Levent used to be a bit infamous,” Glenn said. His eyes gleamed with amusement. It was strange to see on the usually stoic man, and it made him look younger. Age wise, he probably wasn’t that much older than Isolde, Amara realized.

Her eyes shifted to the silver haired man sitting next to him. Based on both of their demeanors, it sounded like whatever that “infamy” had involved was different from being a source, otherwise she doubted that either of them would joke about it. Something from before that, then?

Levent casually punched the guard in the arm. “You’re one to talk, Academy celebrity.”

“That’s a bit of an exaggeration—”

“Nope, that’s not true and you know it.”

“Isolde heard of you before we came here,” Amara piped up. Levent nodded with a hint of smugness. The earlier tension had vanished from his shoulders, and he looked more at ease now, casually leaning back on the chair.

Glenn’s expression was pained. “You heard of me?”

“The stories were all quite flattering, I can assure you,” Isolde said. Amara was almost impressed at how easily she neglected to mention the entire subset of speculative stories and theories about why he’d left the Academy, including her own.

That didn’t seem to assure Glenn at all. If anything, it seemed to make it worse.

Before the man could be further embarrassed, however, a waitress came by their table, nodding at them. Her eyes widened a little when she saw Glenn, who quickly waved away whatever she was about to say. Amara bit back a laugh.

Isolde ordered some fancy dish she’d never heard of before, pronouncing the excessively long word flawlessly. Amara, meanwhile, ended up pointing to something on the menu randomly—it wasn’t as though the taste would make any difference to her.

Glenn ordered next, listing one of the simpler dishes. Once the waitress was done jotting it down, she bowed at them.

“I’ll be back shortly,” she said. Amara frowned, glancing at Levent, who was staring out the window. She hadn’t realized how quiet he’d suddenly gotten.

“Hang on,” she said. “He hasn’t ordered yet.”

Both Levent and the waitress's eyes moved to her. The woman shifted her weight.

“Oh!” Her eyes darted over to the servant, then back. “Um, well—”

“I’ll have whatever he’s having.” Levent pointed a thumb at Glenn, then immediately turned away again. The woman nodded slowly, scribbling something else down. With a hasty bow, she turned and hurried away.

Once she was out of view, Glenn shot Amara a grateful look. She just shrugged. It didn’t seem like Levent had especially appreciated the gesture, anyway.

Isolde coughed lightly. “You mentioned before about this restaurant’s deliveries,” she said. “I’m curious if you know more of its history.”

The guard nodded, and soon the brief moment of quiet was replaced by the two’s voices. Amara half listened to their conversation, most of her attention on Levent, who never took his eyes away from the window.

—

About halfway through their meal, Levent abruptly stood. The faint chatter around them died down, and suddenly the entire restaurant seemed to quiet. Jaw tense, he turned to Glenn.

“I’m going out for some air,” he said stiffly, and without another word, he pushed past the man and strode out of the building. The door shut behind him, and in the corner of her eye, Amara could see Glenn frowning. Without thinking, she stood up as well. Isolde quietly stepped aside to let her through, Amara not needing to say a word, and soon she was exiting the building as well.

She found Levent around the back of the restaurant. He stood leaning against the wall, staring absently up at the silver moon, his arms crossed in front of him. He looked especially pale like that, practically ghostly, and the tattoo was an inky, gaping maw on his cheek.

Amara stopped right in front of him.

“Hey.”

Levent barely reacted to the greeting. “Figures you’d follow me,” he said.

She raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Well, you can probably guess what I’m gonna ask, then.”

The man’s lips pulled into a thin smile. “I’m fine. It just gets a bit…suffocating around so many people.” He snorted. “Not a fan of getting gawked at like some circus act.” He rubbed his forehead, and Amara noted the dark circles around his eyes.

“You don’t get a lot of breaks, I’m guessing.”

“What do you think? I—” His voice cut off, and his hand flew to his tattoo. Between his gloved fingers, Amara could see the shape suddenly glow, shifting from matte black to a deep forest green. Levent grit his teeth, wincing a little as that green light flared even brighter until it was nearly blinding. Amara took a step forward, her hand outstretched, but just as suddenly as it had begun, the glow died down again.

Levent dropped his hand. Just below his eye, the tattoo returned to its original inky shade, dull and mundane, as though nothing had happened. He rubbed his forehead, exhaling a long breath.

“Thank god that didn’t happen earlier,” he muttered. He somehow looked even more tired than before.

Amara stared at the marking. “Was that…”

“Lord Alardice using magic for who knows what.”

Amara frowned. “It works from far away?”

“Sort of.” Levent sighed and took a seat on the ground, leaning his back against the wall. “The further away you go, the less magic you can transfer,” he said. His eyes shifted in the direction of the manor. Under the moonlight, if she looked hard enough, Amara thought she could just barely make out its distant silhouette. Not far away enough, it seemed.

“You can’t do anything about it?”

Levent picked up a stray stone, absently chucking it down the street and watching it clatter and skid across the ground. “Nope.” His eyes met hers. “Once you start a magic transfer, both parties have to agree to get this thing,” he jabbed a thumb at the tattoo, “gone.”

Amara took a seat against the wall as well. Compared to when they’d just arrived in the restaurant, the man’s grey eyes looked dull and distant. She frowned.

“If there’s a range limit, why don’t you run away?”

Levent snorted at that. “You think I haven’t tried? You try having the whole manor’s guard and the watchmen after you.” He shook his head, bitterness lacing every word. “You don’t get far. Not against people as strong as that.”

Amara was quiet for a few moments. A breeze drifted pass, the night air cool against her skin. After spending so long in the facility and sleeping on the cold ground, she’d never really registered temperatures the same.

“What about Glenn?” Amara suddenly said. Levent frowned, turning to look at her, and she continued.

“He’s the best fighter in Magrath, isn’t he? If he helped you, you’d probably be able to get away. You’re friends, right?”

Levent didn’t answer for a long time, or perhaps the silence only seemed to stretch longer than it was. Behind them, Amara could just barely make out the muffled chatter of the restaurant. The streets seemed eerily empty by comparison.

“He wouldn’t help,” Levent finally said. He was looking away again, and Amara couldn’t see his expression. “He’s a good person, but he’s…” His voice trailed, and it took a moment for him to find the words. “He feels like he owes too much to his brother,” he settled with. “He wouldn’t risk upsetting him.”

Amara took in the man’s stiff posture, the way he adamantly stared straight ahead. She thought back to how at ease both Levent and Glenn had seemed around each other, more than she’d ever seen either of them. She’d gotten the impression that they must be close.

Images of the facility flashed in her mind, of the other kids, of Edith. Hadn’t she thought the same? That if she ever had to choose between everyone in the facility or Edith, she would choose the latter every time. Not because she didn’t care about the others, but simply because Edith mattered more. It was all too easy, she thought, to betray one thing you cared about for another.

Her next words were as unexpected to her as they were to Levent.

“Do you hate him for that?”

The man didn’t respond right away. He rose back to his feet, taking a second to dust his clothes off. Even after that, the grey servant’s uniform still looked worn and dull. Amara stood as well, and when she faced Levent, he had on a wry smile.

“I’d rather not end up hating the only person who makes that place less of a hellhole,” he said. He turned away. “Come on, let’s head back.” He didn’t wait for a response, already walking towards the entrance.

For a few moments Amara simply stood there, watching his steadily retreating back, before she finally strode forward as well.