The snow had stopped falling, but yet white still swirled through the air. The wind blew harshly, and kicked up the recently fallen snow through the air, giving the wind a visible form that danced around me. It was a dark blue out, and soon it would be totally dark. I needed to get back to Alisson before then.

Wind blew against my body as I pressed myself into the snow, creeping along it, and peering through a leafless bramblebush. With the state of my armor and clothes, I was freezing. But, I was also starving. One was definitely more important than the other. Before me was a vole, chewing quickly on a nut. I’d been stalking it for the past few minutes, and now I was deathly close to it, and eager to finally catch it. My belly on the cold snow, and with wind howling above, piling a thin layer of snow on my head, I creeped forward.

The vole didn’t move. I launched forward, my eyes locked onto the rodent. I could already feel it’s fur in my hands. I hit the ground, my palms over where the vole had last been. I peered through a crack in my hands. I saw nothing but a hole in the snow.

I frowned, and my body visibly slinked loose from my failed pounce. After a moment I shook my head, my eyes undialating.

I got to my feet, thoroughly disappointed. I sighed. That’s enough playing in the snow, anymore and I might catch a cold. My left arm, from which I’d blown away a week earlier, was exposed to the winds, and visibly shivered.

“Back to Alisson I guess…”

I took one step before the snow under me gave way. I didn’t even have the time to gasp as I stumbled down a hill. I frantically tried to stop myself, and I would’ve, were it not for a tree that I rolled into in the seconds thereafter, halting my momentum dead. A pain throbbed in my side as snow from the tree fell onto me.

“Oww…”

I didn’t have long to rub my head though, I heard the flutter of two sets of wings, and my eyes sharpened; Only to realize that the birds were already gone. They sounded as though they’d taken flight and flown right passed me. Curious as to what two birds were doing on the snow-covered ground, I looked to the tree. There was what looked to be the remnants of a sacked nest, broken eggshells and all. My face lit up when I saw that one egg was still intact. It was only about an inch wide, but it was better than nothing. It seemed that the two birds were just about to eat the egg, and were probably fighting over it.

“Score-!” I said with jubilee to myself.

I grabbed it and stuffed it into a pouch on my waist without hesitation.

Being careful not to trip over any other snowdrifts, I made my way back to cave where Alisson and I had set up for the night. I gave wary glances at the tree line as I did so, paranoid that I’d see an Andestinian mage floating above, watching me. Thankfully, I made it back to the cave without incident, and was greeted by a sweet smell. A tiny fire was lit, beside which my mare and Alisson’s stallion lay, and where Alisson himself was preparing something.

I was quick to enter the cave, where the winds were nullified and where it was a modicum less cold than it was outside.

My nose picked, and I eyed what was roasting over the fire.

“Hare?”

Alisson bobbed his head. “Hare.”

My mouth quickly watered.

“It didn’t even have its winter coat yet – It was easy to spot in the snow. Makes sense, the storm and snow did hit quite abruptly.”

I was ashamed to not have anything but an egg and a few fistfuls of berries to show for my gathering. I sat down near Alisson, and eagerly awaited the meal.

“I’m sorry for making you go out in this weather,” Alisson started, “But I’d rather not eat our rations if we don’t have to.”

“It’s fine.” I bobbed my head.

With the retrieval of our mounts, we also attained the few rations we’d left with them, so we weren’t left without any food per say.

“With the closest town now being hostile toward us, with Andestinians in it, we have quite a way to go before we get to the closest city other than Pūshkinskaya.”

“Which is?” I tilted my head.

“Scratskoslovotskaya, of course. I don’t know of any other towns between here and there. Pūshkinskaya was quite remote to begin with. I don’t think we’ll be seeing any other human presence until then.”

“The Andestinians might say otherwise.”

Alisson’s mouth furrowed. “Well, of course. It looks like whatever force chasing us was reimbursed with more manpower, and mages. They could be chasing us down right now, but that’s good; It’s better they overshoot us, that, and they shouldn’t have a clue what direction we’ve headed in. But, the most likely answer, is that they’re holding down in Pūshkinskaya and waiting for this storm to pass before they continue their chase. They are a large force, after all.”

Alisson adjusted the spit. The horses lazily munched on wheat, from which we had an abundance of, thankfully. The winds howled outside the cave’s mouth, kicking snow around.

“What makes you so sure that those Andestinians are here for us? We’ve had so little contact with them after all…”

I asked.

“Well, it all comes down to three things. One, they ambushed us at first. That’s quite deliberate, wouldn’t you say? Secondly, there’s not many other reasons why Andestine would be here. I can only think of them either being a regional force, or maybe some black operations team we keep running into, but that’s far too many coincidences. Three, that same summoner-hero pair showing up in Pūshkinskaya.” He shook his head. “This could be far worse than we thought; What If Andestine knows about that structure in Freigat, and thus why they keep jumping us, it’s not normal for them to know where we are all the time - there’s just something that we don’t know.”

Alisson sighed.

“For now though, once this storm passes, we head for Scratskoslovotskaya. The more distance we get from the Andestine battalion, the better. Right now, we’re in no shape to take them on. They outnumber us, and they’re considerably high-quality fighters, fresh onto the field. Whereas we,” Alisson gestured to my unarmored left arm and to his back hip, “Are scarred and fatigued from Freigat. My Opensen is still regenerating from the battle with the Nursery, and our armor is a mess, and we could quite frankly use a couple days off.”

I smiled. I felt safe knowing Alisson was Alisson again, knowing that there were battles he couldn’t win, and not just blaming himself. I wonder, I wonder if he can shed some light on that whole episode back in Pūshkinskaya…

“Hey, Alisson?”

He looked to me blankly.

“What happened that first night I spent with Berein?”

…

She asked the question in such an innocent, so guileless manner, that it shocked him. The memory of that delirious, depraved night flooded back into him. He remembered everything he’d promised himself. He looked over Celis. He’d pushed aside his feelings for the mission at hand but here his she was bringing them back to him.

“Well…I…”

Contrary to his long winded, fluent explanations on his feelings at the current strategic situation not minutes before, he struggled to get out a single word, and he knew for himself how he looked. Wide eyed, frozen, obviously not telling the truth if he were to say that nothing had happened. On instinct, he fell back to what he told Celis the morning thereafter.

“…I was worried about you was all, it wasn’t a big deal…Why? Did it seem like it?”

Celis frowned. Her sudden disapproval made him feel ashamed.

“Yes, it did.” She stared at him.

Her stare pierced his skin, as if demanding his honesty. The problem was, he couldn’t be honest. He could tell her his battle plans and his methodology on swordplay with full transparency, but his feelings, they somehow had a far larger lock on them than anything else. If he told her the truth, about his embarrassing mental spiral, and about his realization about her, then…then…

What would happen? What would she do? Alisson suddenly shivered, but not due to the cold. He feared her response. What if she gave that same stare of disapproval and vice?

But at the same time, something deep in Alisson wanted to just spill everything: Tell her he liked her, and that’d he’d been worked scared to his core by the prospect of her abandoning him, which had made him realize his want for her.

It was all so selfish in his opinion. So animalistic, so embarrassing, so uncouth, it would destroy his dignity.

Perhaps because he was taking too long to respond, Celis shifted closer to him, and his heart jumped in a panic. That fear turned into surprise however, when he felt her hand on his head.

“Don’t be scared, Alisson.” Celis tilted her head with a smile at him, while rubbing his head.

He looked to her, and made up his mind in an instant. His heart skipped a beat, and he opened his mouth to speak when-

“!?”

His eyes opened wide and he clamped his hands over his mouth, a sudden knot of blood shooting up his throat. In that moment, he forgot the emotional trifle in his head, and he forgot words he’d formed, and he’d forgot the resolve that he’d suddenly summoned to say them.

All he now thought about were the viscous globs of his own blood that fell onto the cold stone floor below.

“A-are you alright?”

Celis asked quickly, holding him, concern in her voice. That feeling of care that assaulted his side got his mind running again.

“Again…” He muttered. “It happened again-! On the seventh day since the last time-! Every week! It’s no coincidence – It can’t be!”

He wiped his mouth of blood.

“Slow down Alisson…” Celis still held him.

“It’s that cult’s curse. It has to be. Ever since then…But just what could the curse be doing?”

He mumbled to himself, staring into the blood covered stone below, when suddenly Celis shook him quite roughly, and he snapped out his bout of fury-crusted realization. He closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

“…When I fought the cult alone, within the walls, there was a certain fighter there, I believe I told you about her…”

Celis nodded, and Alisson continued.

“Well, I didn’t think much of it at first, but she said she cursed me, and I spat up blood much the same way as I just did now.” He shook his head. “It can’t only just be coughing up some blood, there’s definitely some ulterior purpose behind it…Maybe some sort of kill-switch, maybe some sort of weakening effect…”

Alisson thought aloud. The two sat for a while in silence. Eventually, the hare was cooked, and they were soon both munching on its freshly grilled haunches.

“Andestine…They only showed up after you coughed up blood.” Celis, after swallowing a particularly large bite – But this wasn’t uncommon as she scarfed her food down quite animalistically – broke the silence between them with a thought.

“…What are you implying?”

Celis was about to take another bite, far too large for her mouth, when Alisson’s words interrupted her short. She looked ever so slightly bitter.

“What if that curse is acting as a transponder?”

And then she finally continued with her bite. All the while Alisson stared into the ground, his brow furrowed.

“That would explain why they seemed to know that we were in Pūshkinskaya, and then why they stayed there, since they knew we were in the Jungle…”

Alisson looked to Celis, impressed by her sharp mind. “It’s a good idea, but I don’t think we can prove it. There’s still other explanations for why Andestine has been able to follow us…That, and I don’t want to believe they’ve sicked a tracker on me…And how exactly would Andestine be utilizing the cult’s spell? Either way, what makes you think that?”

Celis, still chewing, replied, “I think best with food in my mouth.”

Her insouciance was surprising, but Alisson welcomed it. On the outside, she’s always the one who displays perfect manners, especially when he first met her. He was glad she was comfortable enough around him to not do so. That, and though he wouldn’t admit this aloud, he thought the sight was cute.

…

“Well, let’s see about that egg you found.”

I nodded, and withdrew the egg. As I did, I noticed something that was definitely not there before: A crack.

I let out a sigh. Really? Really? It just had to hatch now of all times. Just my luck. Well, actually, it probably started hatching because of the warmth from my body. Still though, you just had to take away my offering to Alisson…

“It looks like it’s-” I started, but I was cut off by a loud snap. Another crack had opened on the egg.

Alisson shrugged. “We can still eat it. What is it?”

I peered closer, wondering just what kind of egg it was, when suddenly the whole top of the egg cracked, and out of it popped the hatchling within. I stared in silence, shocked by the sight.

It was a Lamia. A half snake, half human, reptilian subhuman. I thought they were extinct. Of course, the Lamia before me was a literal hatchling, and nothing compared to my mental images formed from the stories of the great, serpentine warriors of old.

“L-lamia…”

I muttered to myself. In response, the creature bobbed its scarily human head and upper body back and forth, with a distressed expression, its mouth ajar. It was clearly hungry.

“What did you sa-” Alisson was cut off as he laid eyes on what had emerged from the egg. “Oh.”

We both stared at the writhing creature for a moment.

“We can’t exactly eat that.” Alisson murmured.

“I will.” I brought the egg closer to my mouth and opened wide.

Alisson lightly chopped my head.

“What should we do with it?”

I asked as the hatchling still silently wailed for food, tossing back and forth. Alisson shrugged. “Toss it in the snow and let it be food for the hawks, what do you think we’re supposed to do?”

My mouth furrowed. “I wanna keep it.”

Alisson looked mildly surprised at this. “Oh? Why’s that?”

“Well…it’s cute.”

Alisson frowned. I hastened to elaborate.

“A-and just imagine if we brought back a Lamia to the homeland-!”

Alisson’s mouth furrowed and he looked off. He then suddenly cracked into a smile.

“…I suppose keeping a pet isn’t too much a big deal. Fine, you can keep it.” Alisson shrugged, but continued, “Really, why do want to keep it? I’m curious. You’re not the kind to care about small, cute things just because.”

Yeah, that’d be you, Alisson. I bet he wants to keep the Lamia just as much as I do. That whole ‘leaving it out to the hawks’ was probably just his default Sidonian commander response. The children in both of us desired otherwise though.

I looked at him and shrugged. “I don’t know. It’s interesting.”

“Does it have anything to do with the fact it has purple scales?”

I looked to him blankly, about to ask him what he meant when the color of purple shot through my mind, and I was suddenly reminded of a face I’d shoved away to the pits of my memory. Berein.

“A-ah…You mean that adventurer…”

Alisson nodded. “I haven’t asked you about that, did it bother you? The whole ordeal? How her unreciprocated love saved you but killed her?”

Alisson’s words sounded so demanding, so heartless, and alien, and I knew then that he was speaking from a strictly Sidonian standpoint.

“It did…I don’t know why, but it did.”

I answered truthfully. If only Alisson could do the same. I mean it’s not all that much of a secret since I did throw up when I saw her. If that doesn’t count as being ‘bothered’ I don’t know what does.

Alisson closed his eyes. “It’s something you’ll need to get used to. I’ve seen a great deal of human allies perish before my eyes in sacrifice. You need to remember that they’re just tools. A human death is not comparable to a fellow fratello’s. Don’t let it get to you.”

I knew that Alisson was giving some advice that he himself hated. Whenever his voice defaults to that stone cold, business-only tone, I know that he’s detached himself from the thoughts he’s telling me.

After swallowing another bite of the hare, I spoke, “It’s the fact that she was so set on following us out, she was so convinced she had a future, I, I guess I was convinced of it too.”

I vicariously imagined Berein sitting near us. How would’ve things gone down different in Pūshkinskaya with as her as an ally? Knowing Alisson, for her usefulness, he might’ve just let her go back to the humans, despite that whole spiel about her being Sidonian property. But knowing Berein, she probably would’ve stuck with us.

The way she clung to me when we ran from the Nursery after Dane sacrificed himself, the way she was so relieved by my presence, I’m still left with the enduring question, why? Why me? Why did she like me so much?

Alisson looked out of the mouth of the cave. “The world is a mess. Everything is chance. Promises aren’t ironclad rules. People die. We always like to think that death will pass over us, that the sword will miss us, that the plague with pass us up.” He shook his head. “That’s it then, that’s an experience with the real order of the world. Chaos and randomness. Rickard…He was my best friend, he’d probably be here with me now instead of you if he’d survived. But he didn’t. He died, and I had no warning or inkling of it, it just happened. The same with my apprentices. One day, they’re alive and well, and the other, I get a parchment that informs me of their deaths. I didn’t even get to see any of their bodies.”

The lamia licked its own face with it long, bifurcated tongue, still silently pleading to be fed as I thought over Alisson’s words. Unlike his previous statement on humans being tools, his voice was genuine, soft, and caring.

It gave me a new view of what happened to me when I was young. The whole keep being destroyed, my family being slaughtered. It wasn’t some destiny that any god willed or planned out for me, it just so happened to happen. It could’ve not, and I could’ve died along with the rest of the keep. Nothing was written in the stone of the world to say what should have happened.

The same goes for Berein. The same goes for this Lamia, who would’ve died unborn by two birds if I hadn’t tripped by pure chance and found the nest. The same goes for the mother of this lamia. By chance, her nest and all her children were killed. Was it because she was simply out at the time, or was it because she’d perished before hand? Anything could explain it.

What a sad philosophy that Alisson holds. It made me want to tackle him and embrace him.

There was one discrepancy though.

“Who’s Rickard?”

I tilted my head.

Alisson squinted at me. “…Your brother? Who saved you at the night of the Regadonian Slaughter?”

“Who? Wasn’t it you who was there?”

“What?” Alisson looked agitated. “This isn’t a pleasant joke, Celis. Your brother, Rickard Aud Regadonia. The man who saved your life twice, first when you were a child and then when you were an apprentice – You told me the story yourself in that wheat field, remember?”

It was Alisson who came to rescue me in that compound, and in the keep. I can see his figure now in my head, in both instances. Just what is he getting at-

Then, I remembered distinctly my conversation with Alisson that night in the wheat field. I told him about someone named Rickard saving me after my first apprentice team had been wiped out. The words had left my mouth, and I thought nothing odd about them at the time.

My eyes widened, and I started to shake with fear. Did I forget someone? I-I had a brother? I, I don’t have any such memories…What happened?

“I…I remember talking about him…b-but I…”

A panic quickly overtook me. Am I missing something? Was it something important? Why is Alisson concerned? He can’t be lying since I myself uttered words of someone named Rickard as being my brother as well.

A hand on my shoulder made me jump.

“Celis, calm down, you’re shaking.” Despite his orders, I still shook. Alisson shifted near, and grabbed me by both of my shoulders, and held me. “Are you serious? You don’t remember him?”

I nodded my head quickly, and whipped to look at Alisson in a craze. “Who was he? Did I like him? W-was he important?”

Alisson was taken back. “…It can’t be…You’ve really…”

His words only made be panic more.

…

Celis looked like a scared dog. She had no idea what she had done wrong, but feared and knew it was something wrong.

What happened to her? Alisson’s first thought was outside influence. Perhaps a beast, a Darkwalker, some phenomena or the like, caused a lapse in her memory? But by that coin, since Alisson was always with her, shouldn’t he be affected somehow as well?

He didn’t know of any beasts that altered ones memory…But anything was possible.

Alisson then remembered Celis’s recall of how her team had been killed, back in the wheat fields. She’d had trouble remembering that it was her brother that saved her. Alisson thought it was odd at the time, yes, but now…It had to be related. Just what happened? If it wasn’t an outside force that caused her lapse in memory…

No, Alisson heard it for himself. It wasn’t a lapse in memory. His apprentice believed that he was the one that saved her in both the compound and the keep. Rickard had been replaced in her mind., by none other than himself.

This was no act of petty anger against him, no ulterior motives that he could think of, and the fact that Celis was so insistent before she remembered that she spoke of him…It all pointed to her genuinely being unaware of her mind. It was a terrifying thought. Losing someone in your head, either completely or having been replaced with someone else, and you’d be none the wiser to catch on. He suddenly felt pity for his apprentice, about how confused she must be. It was a like of piece of her was missing, and she knew it.

Again, it wasn’t missing. It had been replaced. Alisson felt dirty. Why did Celis think that he was in the shoes of her brother? What could’ve caused it?

While Alisson was thinking, he noticed Celis staring into the floor, with dull eyes. He tightened his hands on her and sought to get to the bottom of this.

Alisson racked his brain for what he knew about Celis’s and Rickard’s relationship. She told Alisson herself, that Rickard wasn’t home very often, and so the two probably didn’t interact much. He didn’t train her, didn’t do anything out of the ordinary, he was too busy.

Celis’s tone with him though, it had lacked affection, Alisson realized. He should’ve noticed it earlier. How Celis treated her own brother like a stranger when she spoke of him. The truth was probably quite close to that, assuming Celis’s childhood really was just sitting around in a keep – Alisson knew for a fact that Rickard barely visited his home, and when he did it was for business.

It just happened to be that on one of these trips, the keep was attacked by unknown aggressors, and destroyed. The sole survivor was Celis, who was found when a Sidonian ship came by the island the next day on a routine supply run, to find the keep burned to the ground.

Alisson then realized it, the glaring error that he’d been overlooking. Had he been so stupid? Rickard died in the Regadonian Slaughter.

So then how could he have been the instructor of Celis’s team, and saved her when her team perished?

That fact had passed over Alisson’s head, he specifically remembered thinking about why Rickard had taken so long to save the apprentices, without even stopping to realize that at that point he should’ve been dead. The more he thought the more he was confused. Rickard had never taken up a position as an instructor…

Could Celis have misspoken, or did…

Alisson’s eyes widened, and he put his hand to his mouth in a cold sweat.

What if…what if Rickard was still alive?

No one had found his body, or any bodies at the keep for that matter. That wasn’t unusual – It was burned. The apprentice team Celis had been apart of, the way they were butchered, it was extremely dubious, but Alisson had accepted it as a Sidonian misstep on whoever had organized that outing. But if Rickard led those apprentices on his own volition to a dangerous place, without the knowledge of Sidonian authorities then...

Celis had been given a gag order. Sidonia wanted to keep that whole event under wraps, that much was evident, but word had still spread as Alisson remembered Daventdale speaking of it before.

Rickard wouldn’t do that though…Alisson knew him. Rickard was a staunch, upstanding man. He would commonly doubt orders that entailed civilian deaths, and nefarious deeds. Alisson remembered specifically telling Rickard to shut up with the whole ‘morals’ thing when they were partners – The Sidonian Inquisition was suspicious of a string of heretics in the nation, and he didn’t want Rickard being caught up in it at the time.

Alisson put his hand to his forehead. He’d simply wanted to figure out Celis’s mental state, but here he’d uncovered something he probably shouldn’t have. What happened? What’s the truth? What’s a cover-up? There was something going on that he wasn’t aware of.

“A-alisson?”

Celis’s tepid words shook him back to reality, and he saw her stare at him with worry.

Pathetic. The two of them were sitting in a cave in the middle of a winter storm, in the middle of nowhere, both shaking, shocked, and deeply worried.

“I…I’ve just connected some dots is all…”

“W-what? What is it?”

He shook his head. “Nothing that concerns you, don’t worry. Anyway, I think I’ve figured out what happened with you and your brother.”

Celis seemed relieved, and Alisson pressed on. “Let me first start by saying that everything I know about your relationship, you told me yourself. Rickard never spoke of you to me.”

And on that front, Alisson resigned himself to the hard truth that seemed to be at hand. His partner, as upstanding as he was, seemed to have not cared about his own sister, despite rescuing her in his…’final’…moments.

“I’ll be honest. You’re fine. You didn’t lose any important memories, because the truth is that you had none with him to begin with…when you say that I was the one who saved you at that compound and at your keep…You do realize that the first time we met was when you were apprenticed, right?”

Celis’s eyes widened, and he knew that she was sane – be able to see her own discrepancies in her mind.

“It wasn’t me. It was Rickard. You merely replaced his image with one of me. Why, though…well, I don’t know how you felt about him…but my guess is that you didn’t feel any affection for him, or if you did, you were disgruntled by his lack of reciprocation in his demeanor and minute face time he’d given you.”

Celis’s brow lifted, and she seemed visibly pleased. Alisson squinted, confused. “You seem to have taken that well…”

Celis looked to him. “I was afraid that I’d lost something important. Someone important. It would’ve flipped my world upside down but, it makes sense now.” She shook her head. “Nothing of value was lost.”

Alisson’s shoulder’s slumped, hearing that about his partner. “That’s harsh, but I know I can’t judge. It’s true though, you’re acting no differently now than you would have been if you still had his memory. You’re okay. You’re not insane. Everything hasn’t been flipped around on you, except for that single piece.”

Celis had a small smile. She pat the head of the lamia absent mindedly. “Thank Sidonia…”

“Now, what caused your lapse in memory is something entirely different. It couldn’t have been just sour feelings, or a lack of affection-”

Alisson stopped himself short. He realized that by saying that, he was essentially admitting that while Rickard had not given Celis any affection, Alisson had. It was embarrassing, and at the same time a bit abrasive of Alisson to assume that Celis had perceived his actions as being affectionate.

Celis tilted her head at him, and he made a gamble. “A, a lack of affection...”

Celis, after having a blank face in confusion for a moment, broke into a tiny, devious smile. “Yes, Alisson. You’ve given me affection, don’t worry.”

Alisson’s shoulders loosened, and his face felt red. He quickly continued.

“Perhaps some outside force, say a beast or other phenomena, incited your drastic mental shift and replacement.”

Celis shook her head. “I think I know why.” She closed her eyes. “It’s because over these last few months, and with pretending to be adventurers too, we’ve played the part of brother and sister…Maybe I stupidly bought into that lie without realizing it.”

Alisson shook his head. “If that’s really the case, it’s not your fault. You didn’t consciously choose to replace your memories. Both the Regadonian Slaughter and your team being killed before your eyes were traumatic events – Your brain would inevitably be more loose around those areas to try and minimize the shock. Perhaps you have some post-stress subconsciously. At least, that’s the only thing coming to my head.”

Celis nodded slowly. Well, other than the discrepancy of Rickard apparently being alive after he’d died.

The two of them sat for almost ten minutes in silence, just digesting the conversation that had taken place, when Celis broke the ice, speaking what Alisson was thinking.

“Hey, Alisson…Thanks for talking to me like that…I really appreciate the support.”

Alisson’s mouth furrowed out of embarrassment, and he looked away to avoid eye contact. “Y-yeah…It feels wrong though, I just dissected your feelings…”

Celis smiled. “You’re always the respectful one…You don’t like talking about your feelings, and you think that talking about someone else’s is an intrusion on their privacy. It’s alright, Alisson, we’re not acquaintances.”

“I-I suppose you’re right.”

Alisson nodded to himself.

He realized that what Celis said was true. Exactly true. He treated everyone like an acquaintance with regards to their feelings…Only when Celis suffered some otherworldly, potentially dangerous mental incident, did Alisson , without thinking, resort to dissecting and speaking openly of his apprentice to solve the issue at hand.

Can I only do such a thing when I perceive that lives are on the line? Only if I think I’m on a battlefield?

Alisson shook his head.

“Still though, Alisson…” Celis started, “What did you mean by ‘connected some dots’?”

Alisson frowned. “What I said: It doesn’t concern you, don’t worry. I need to think and unpack it more as well…”

Celis, after staring at Alisson for a moment, let out a loud sigh. “You really like keeping secrets, Alisson.”

His mouth furrowed, and his eyes fell to the floor in guilt. “My apologies…really…This specific thing I realized though…It’s better if we don’t think about it until after we get back to the homeland, we don’t need unnecessary, potentially unfounded worries.” He shook his head. “Let’s just focus on the mission at hand for now. Feelings and theories and worries can be pushed back if they don’t interfere, especially if they could be entirely unfounded. At least, that’s how I think.”

Alisson smiled to himself. He didn’t want to admit it, and he most certainly wouldn’t say it aloud, but if felt good to speak so openly about his thoughts.

…

I feel a bit woozy. Like I’m behind on something, like I’m not who I was before realizing that I’d forgotten my own brother.

I know that this isn’t true though. I’m confident in what Alisson had to say. Alisson’s not the sort of person to say that two people who are close to him, me, and his former partner, had a bad relationship, on a whim. If he says so, he’s being serious.

With Alisson partially in my head, advocating for my stability, its far easier to push my lapse in memory away from altering who I am. I’ve been the same. I’m fine. Just what Alisson said. I felt so warm when he said those words, it was so comforting. I just wish he’d be like that more. Small steps.

I was surprised that Alisson was so open about me. I guess it takes the threat of danger for him to open his mouth. Even without that though, he shared a couple tidbits of his philosophy as if it wasn’t a big deal, whereas usually he’d keep that to himself. He’s at the very least opening up to me, even if it’s stuff that’s pretty detached from his being.

He’s still obstructing certain things here and there, but I can’t complain. I’m the minor here, trying to win his favor, I can’t push him too far or he’ll get suspicious. The battle in my head about Alisson being either a super nice stranger or a genuine friend is pretty much won in my head, thanks to what he’s said to try and help me.

That part about me affirming his statement about my brother not giving me affection though, was a total slip up. I just had to roll my eyes. I mean, come on! Did he seriously think that he hasn’t shown any affection for me? He’s such a pushover…

Still though, I can see what happened. I remember the dreams I’ve had. About reliving that night two decades ago. There was someone who saved me, and that had to be my brother. My latest version of that dream though, I fought out of my keep on my own – That’s probably where I subconsciously forgot about him and only now I’ve realized it.

That goes to show how much value my brother held to me. None. Not when Alisson is around.

It’s not hard to infer that now, If I were to have another dream, it’d probably be Alisson there to save me, judging from the fact that I replaced him in my memory. Now that I’m thinking about it consciously though, it probably won’t happen; and if it does, I’ll realize its fakeness immediately –

I seriously thought for a good two minutes there that Alisson had saved me two decades back. Which makes literally no sense as Alisson pointed out, the first time we even laid eyes on each other was when I was made his apprentice.

Seriously though, do I have dementia or something?! How does this happen! This can’t be normal. It has to be as Alisson says, an outside force most likely affected, or exaggerated, or perpetuated, my distaste-fueled forgetting of my brother.

I’m not a psychologist; But people don’t just forget specific things like that. It was targeted. If there was really something wrong with my brain, I feel like I’d know. Well, actually, dementia, at later stages, causes you to forget the fact that you have dementia. Scary.

The lamia in my hands, all through our long-winded conversation and subsequent theorizing, has been silently wailing in agony for food. I realized that I wasn’t exactly being a good pet owner by not feeding it, but it’s safe to say that I was a little distracted by more important matters. I gave the lamia the skewer that I’d eaten my piece of the hare from, and it found plenty of sustenance with its tiny mouth. A single crumb was enough to make it smile in jubilee as it scarfed it down. It was quite small. Its human body was only about two inches in tall, and its head made up a large portion of that. Its snake tail was a good half foot though, I didn’t see this until the lamia finally slithered out of its eggshell, and onto my hand. From its expression and the way it was wrapping around me, it probably imprinted on me or something.

It’s a bit unfair to call it a ‘pet’. Lamias are intelligent. This here is just a hatching though. As good as a wild animal. It’s up to me to civilize it so it can be of use.

It’s not like me, the whole ‘keeping a lamia’ thing. Maybe what Alisson said about it reminding me about Berein is true.

…

A few days had passed since they’d fled from Pūshkinskaya. For now, the storm had settled, and the sun was out, in a bright, clear day. With snow covering all land in view, reflecting brightly the sun’s rays, it was a rare, and beautiful sight.

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There had been no traces of Andestine, and Alisson was cautiously optimistic that it would stay that way. Although they’d made good time, and thanks to their efforts in foraging the land they weren’t in a supply problem yet, they now had a physical barrier between them and proceeding forward. A large ravine. Normally there should a bridge over it, but here in the north, there was no such thing. The immaculate stone bridges built by the elf nation of centuries prior were rare in this region, so him and Celis had spent the past hour attempting to go around the ravine, but it stubbornly didn’t end.

“Hey Alisson, what should we name it?”

To pass the time, Celis had been busy fiddling with her newfound pet. ‘Fiddling’ wasn’t the right word. She was playing with it.

“It's a wild animal with no lineage or heritage, so something simple.”

Alisson said, scanning the land ahead of him. The bright, cloudless sky ahead made visibility quite clear in all directions, but Alisson wasn’t going to play the fool and relax. A few beasts had attacked them, but it was nothing they couldn’t handle after Freigat. Stalkers were comically easy to spot with snow littering the ground everywhere.

“Hmm…” Celis thought for a moment. “How about…something about snakes…but something strong…”

Celis looked to the sky with a furrowed mouth as the lamia was wrapped around Celis’s ungauntleted left hand. A quick patch job on Alisson’s part using the supplies from the mounts managed to stop Celis’s left arm from being completely exposed to the elements, but Alisson couldn’t exactly fabricate a new gauntlet out of empty air. They’d have to wait until Scratskoslovotskaya.

“A Basilisk is a strong snake.”

Alisson added.

“It’s a beast though…no, actually…how about Basil?”

“Basil?”

“To the hope that it becomes as strong as a Basilisk someday.”

Celis declared proudly, seconds before suddenly yelping, “Ow!”

When Alisson looked, he saw that the lamia had bitten Celis’s index finger. Not maliciously clearly, since it was smiling, but more so like it was using Celis’s finger as a chew toy. The lamia’s teeth were small, so it was nothing more than a bug bite, but Celis still reprimanded the lamia.

Alisson smirked at Celis’s apparent childishness. When he set his sights back in front of him though, he spotted in the distance, a way to cross the ravine that they’d been traveling along. It was a bridge. A stone one too, rare in these parts. There was something off about it though.

Upon spotting the bridge, Celis tucked away Basil in a pouch and she and Alisson sunk back into their strict conduct. There were trees everywhere, so they were masked from the bridge as they made their approach. As they neared, the hunch Alisson had was proven true. This wasn’t going to be a simple crossing. A wooden structure and frame surrounded the bridge. Compared to the stone superstructure, it was a shoddy construction at best. On either side of the bridge, were large portcullis s, barring entry across the bridge.

When Alisson saw people milling about on the bridge and the structure above it, Alisson knew this was no simple ruin. It was a bandit basecamp.

In front of the bridge, on his Alisson and Celis’s side of the ravine, a single road led to the bridge, where a small caravan of a half dozen people had stopped before the frontal gate. They had with them a wagon with a cage atop it, and Alisson recognized these men as slave drivers. They were chatting idly with the bridge bandits, and when Alisson saw an exchange of coins before the portcullis rose to let the caravan past, he knew that this was not simple basecamp – It was also a toll.

The slave drivers were pat down by the bandits in front of the bridge before being allowed to proceed. They took especial precaution with the two slaves the caravan were transporting, essentially molesting them.

And these weren’t simply human slaves, they were a far rarer catch. Angels.

Alisson, with his Opensen activated, heard the cry of one as they were accosted by the bandits that were having a little too much fun patting them down.

“Michaela! Tsuhagara! Sidonia! Someone! Please-!”

“Shut your mouth, whore.”

A slave driver was quick to shut the angel up, and the caravan passed onto the bridge without further incident. The portcullis closed quickly behind them.

Alisson, when he heard the call to Sidonia, tightened his fist with a deep frown. Him and Celis were a far enough distance away, shielded by bushes and trees, with a good view of the front of bridge. Alisson put his spyglass away, sighing.

“So?”

Celis asked, her eyes narrow.

“From how large this ravine is, we’ll have to go through that bridge.” Alisson shook his head. “I’d like to be able to simply pay their toll and move along, but from their demeanor…once they see our appearances, our armor, and our fortune, they’ll probably do something stupid.”

Celis nodded.

“They have a tenable position. Normally, we’d be able to flatten them with scrolls and items but…”

His voice trailed off. They had no resources. They had used all of their items in Freigat. That included the two flight scrolls, els’t him and Celis would’ve already crossed the ravine long ago.

“We’ll have to use our swords and spells alone. We can’t leave the horses undefended either – I don’t beasts to eliminate our transport.”

Celis furrowed her mouth, staring intently at the bridge.

There were four men that were visible standing watch at the front. Two were before the portcullis , and the other two were above, standing watch in the wooden complex above the bridge. They had with them a Scorpion – A siege weapon that fired bolts the size of pool cues, it was a bit smaller than a typical ballista, but just as deadly to any creatures that were hit by one. They must use that for beasts.

The bridge itself was clear for wagons and travelers to pass through, the actual bandit base was above it, using the tall supports of the bridge as a frame for a large wooden base. For being a bunch of bandits, it was an impressive feat. They knew what they were doing. You could see through the supports to the bridge proper, and it seemed to have been turned into a stable for a great deal of horses, house at least three dozen of them, but there was still room for caravans to pass due to the width of the bridge.

The men at the gate on the ground level held spears and shields, and yawned, looking drowsy, whereas the two men at the top of the portcullis manning the Scorpion chatted absentmindedly.

Alisson’s Opensen ears flicked here and there. The bandits from within the base were quite loud, and were making a cacophony of noise.

Napping watchmen, loud mouths further within, and a clear, business as usual day. It all gave him and Celis the element of surprise. That was the only thing they had going for them though, for the defenses seemed strong, and Alisson bet that the bandits within the base probably had contingencies in case of a battle. Him and Celis would need to be methodical with this obstacle. Alisson eyed the slave drivers, who were not affiliated with bandits, crossing the bridge.

They needed to be quick too. But Alisson wouldn’t say that aloud.

Celis seemed to be deep in thought, so Alisson asked her what she was thinking.

“Since we can’t leave the horses behind…we’ll need a two-pronged attack.” Celis started, and Alisson smiled, happy that his apprentice was already forming a plan without being told to.

Alisson urged her to continue, curious as to what she’d thought of.

“One person needs to infiltrate the top of the bridge, the bandit’s base, and raise the portcullis on either side. And the other needs to escort the horses through the portcullises when each one is opened. If we want to keep undetected, we’ll have to move fast and get rid of anyone in our way until we get to the other side.”

Alisson nodded. “The job of opening the portcullises will be a far more dangerous one, being in close quarters with so many large men – Either one of us could be overpowered if we’re not careful.” He peered at Celis. “Do you want me to take that role?”

Celis shook her head. “I can do it.”

Alisson closed his eyes with a smile. “Just be careful. Don’t underestimate them, like with the goblins, remember?”

Celis nodded.

“Alright then, it’s settled. I’ll take the lower route with the horses, and you clear the way above. I’m counting on you.”

…

Let’s make this quick and clean. First stop; clear the front portcullis, and raise it for Alisson. Second stop, make my way through the base, preferably undetected, and raise the second portcullis.

Simple enough. And they’re just bandits too. Nothing more than blockheads. They can’t compare to a Platinum knight. Well, I don’t compare either really…the hero, that merc, and those two adventurers I killed in Pūshkinskaya were all pretty bad fighters compared to a trained knight. Except the merc from before – She just wasn’t trying to fight that battle for whatever reason and died because of it.

My method to break through the frontal gate complicated the further I thought about how suicidal a frontal attack was.

On that end, my first thought was to walk right up, and ask to be let in, and completely subvert the outer defenses by being escorted deeper into the base; And then, break out. That’s a really bad idea though. Like, really bad. I don’t care if I can use magic, I’m not going to risk being overpowered in a tight space.

By Alisson’s estimate, there’s probably about three dozen bandits in the base, plus the half dozen in the caravan. So, heading forward we’ll be communicating telepathically to tally up the number of kills. Alisson ultimately said that it was better to kill everyone, and leave no survivors to hide our traces. He’s also considering knocking the bridge down to impede Andestine, but we’ll deal with that once we’re on the other side.

The plan I devised to break through the front gate was not a simple one. I borrowed Alisson’s cloak, because mine was ripped to pieces, and took off my right gauntlet to make myself seem more unarmed.

Next up, find a beast. Any kind would work. I had to wander around for a while before I found a lone Spidertail. Perfect. I was faster than it, thankfully, and once I got its attention, I ran like hell. Toward the bridge.

I made sure to be as theatric as possible to put on a convincing act.

“H-help!” I purposely stumbled out of the bushes before the bridge guards. “T-t-there’s a monster!”

With that I stumbled to my feet and scrambled to toward the bandits. I had been running for a time, but that wasn’t enough to make me sweat, so I had to spread some water on my forehead beforehand. It had the added benefit of also making me look like I was crying. With my exposed hands shown to the bandits, and wearing an unassuming cloak that covered my battle-scared armor, I looked quite innocent if I do so say myself.

Of course, I wasn’t everything betting on this. My fists were clenched. Hiding within them, at the tip of my fingers, were large blots of yellow.

When I ‘noticed’ the bandits, I broke into a hopeful smile, and almost tripped over myself running toward them.

“A monster, a monster!”

I said, half crying. As if on cue, out of the bushes behind me, the Spidertail leapt. It quickly identified me, and resumed chase, gnarling angrily. I could hear its heavy, thundering footsteps not meters behind me. The bandits were roused out of their dreary laxness when they saw me coming. Between whimpering and tripping, I was careful to identify their expressions; They seemed far more worried about the Spidertail than me.

I smirked under my faked ragged breath. I approached one of the two bandits on the ground, the ones with the large spears and shields, but no real armor to speak of.

I slipped behind the bandit, and held onto him from behind, as if cowering. “S-save me big bro!”

I almost threw up in my mouth a little.

He only shot a glance back to me, but smirked, as if welcoming the opportunity to protect me. His shield raised and his spear poised, he was only worried about the beast in front of him, and his gaze locked onto it, completely ignoring me.

Being so brazen looked to have worked. They don’t think I’m suspicious at all. Here I thought bandits in the boonies would shoot me on sight, but I suppose they haven’t seen as many horrific beasts as I have. Like that one in the Menton forest, that could wear my skin if it wanted to. Though I suppose I haven’t seen any beasts mimic a little girl, let alone so well. In the end though, am I really not a monster mimicking a little girl?

After patting myself on the back, I prepared to act. I peeked around the bandit’s large body, not only for show but because I wanted to see when the Spidertail would be dealt with.

I smiled when I heard the Scorpion above me fire. It let loose its bolt, and it soared straight into the middle of the Spidertail’s torso; pinning it down to the road. As the bolt impacted, in a lightning-fast motion, I drew a baselard from my left pauldron and slit the bandit’s throat. In the same action, I pulled him passed me, into the ravine. The noise of the Scorpion bolt had masked the man’s death; the other bandit not a dozen meters away was none the wiser. He was still locked forward, not even looking to his side, his feet braced and his shield up. He was just about to relax, seeing the Spidertail pinned down by the bolt, when I blurred into his vision. My baselard was shoved into the side of his neck, and all he could do was gurgle. He tried to turn to face me, but I was too fast. I slipped behind him, and pulled him past me, right off the cliff and into the ravine.

My eyes narrowed, and I clambered onto the portcullis’s wooden bars. Like an animal, I scaled the gate within seconds. By the time I was right under the firing position of the Scorpion, it fired for its second time, killing the Spidertail.

Just then I vaulted over into the open battlements. A bandit filled my vision, and stumbled back, surprised. Before even getting myself into the battlement, I swung my leg around, slamming my armored shin into the bandit’s head. He fell to the ground, knocked out cold. The other bandit was just recoiling from having fired the siege weapon. He had a spear nearby though, and was already thrusting it at me. I was still only kneeling on the sill of the battlement, so I couldn’t exactly move.

I grabbed onto the shaft of the spear, and pulled it passed myself, slipping into the battlement proper. Apparently surprising the bandit, I managed to pull the spear out of his grip. I thrust it back at him with the blunt end, hitting his face. He stumbled back, cursing. I flipped the spear around in my hands and threw myself into the man, pushing the spear into his throat. He gurgled, and his body tried to resist against me, punching and squirming. I drew my baselard, and impaled his forehead. His body fell limp thereafter. I stumbled back, taking a deep breath. I quickly turned and slit the throat of the bandit who’d I’d knocked unconscious, and with that, the front of the bridge was clear of watchmen.

The battlement was empty save a few camping stools and a door that led to the inner base of the bandits. I strained my ears for a moment to listen to the interior of the base.

After a moment I heard a few men break out in loud laughing. I sighed in relief. I’m still undetected. I was quick to find the crank that was used to lift the portcullis.

I swallowed. Here’s hoping that I can lift the gate…

I put my right gauntlet back on, and spit on my left hand. I grabbed the crank, and grunted as I tried to pull it. After a moment, it gave way, and I let out a sigh of relief. As I turned the crank, rope wrapped around it, and I heard a small groan from bellow.

Count four, gate is on the rise.

I reported.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Alisson emerge from the brush, with our two horses behind him. Staying low and fast, he led the horses toward the bridge and disappeared a moment later from my vision.

I’m in.

He reported a moment later, and I slowly let the portcullis close, giving rope incrementally so that it wouldn’t slam down with a large noise. Before I went further, I tossed the two corpses off the battlements and into the ravine. Effectively, other than blood, all traces of the guards were gone.

Five, six, seven-!

I heard Alisson say telepathically. He was already busy down below, so I hastened to keep pace with him. Still with inch-sized blots of yellow at my fingertips, I took a deep breath, and prepared to breach into the bandit base proper. I drew both my stilettos, and opened the door slowly.

I was prepared to meet the entire bandit presence, but instead I found an empty room. With furs, beartraps, and other tools hanging on the walls and laying across dusty tables, it seemed to be a storage room. With no windows in the small room, it was quite dark. I started creeping through, hearing the noises of laughing men further into the base.

Right when I reached the other end of the room did I notice a pair of voices far closer than the rest of the cacophony that I’d been hearing. Along with footsteps, I suddenly realized that some people were about to enter the room I was in. I quickly dove into a hiding place.

Four large men entered the tiny storage room, unaware of my presence.

“Such a pain in the ass that they fire the Scorpio in broad daylight…”

“They’re probably just fucking around, you know Rodney’s group…”

“Weren’t they the ones that almost started a brawl at the front gate with the Red Drivers? Said they were disturbing the catch or something, what was that about?”

“Dem’ drivers are a ‘nother breed – And when it’s such a rare race – Dhose’ Angels, you gotta keep ‘em happy and pure, or else their value will decrease.”

“I guess they’re not useful in physical labor like the usual merchandise.”

The men chatted, walking through the room. I couldn’t let them find out about the state of the front gate. I waited for the men to pass me, and then leapt out of the shadows, striking at the last man in the group.

They were all in a straight line about to head through to the battlements. They were easy pickings. The last man of the group was stabbed through the back of his head. I quickly pushed his corpse aside and spun my body around the kick the second to last man in the line. My shin slammed into him, and he went stumbling into a wall, where a beartrap was hanging.

The beartrap sprung on the man’s head, killing him instantly, sending a wave of blood through the air.

I took one large step forward, and stabbed upwards. My third target had only turned his head in suspicion when my stiletto flew though the bottom of his jaw, right through his head. Not wanting to risk an alarm, I shoved his body out of the way, and fired one of my Pictun spells at the last man alive. He had just turned, and just barely processed what was happening, with his mouth about to call for help when instead a yellow spike flew through it, blowing his head to pieces. I glanced around wildly for a moment, before letting out a deep breath.

Make it eleven.

A-firm. Make it twelve.

There were four corpses in the small room, and it already smelled putrid. If I don’t move fast, than the smell will arouse more suspicion in the camp.

I made my way to the door where the four men had come from. They were probably sent in response to the noise of the siege weapon out front, and from the sounds of it, it wasn’t too out of the ordinary. I put my ear to the door, and heard a great deal of people on the other side. From all the laughing and jolly conversation I’ve been hearing, the next room is probably a large hall.

I closed my eyes. A lot of people are in the next room. Alisson wants to kill them all. I wanted to go room by room in favorable conditions, like I just did, but the next one…is probably the majority of the bandits in the base. I only have the element of surprise. Stealth, with so many people, in what’s probably a large hall, isn’t going to help either.

Maybe I should’ve kept one of those guys alive to have him ‘escort’ me deeper in. Oh well…

I’m going loud.

I reported. After a moment, Alisson replied,

A-firm.

I took a deep breath, and replenished the space of that one spell that I’d just used. I tightened the grip on my stilettos, and clicked the door open.

I was going to kick it down, but like, what’s the point in that if it isn’t locked? It’ll only help enemy.

To my surprise, I stood in the doorway for a long moment with nobody noticing. It was a large hall as I’d thought, a few fireplaces were lit around, and there were a few large tables, with a couple dozen bandits scattered about. Some were drinking, some were playing cards, some were standing around talking, others sat alone, furnishing their equipment.

This’ll be easier than I thought. I smiled to myself.

…

Vferearivitch was apart of the Kingslayers only in name. He didn’t go out to raid caravans, he didn’t fend off against beasts, and he certainly didn’t share their ambitions to conduct a coup d’état on Tarakia. Although he did share intercourse with their Boss. Vferearivitch had once been a wealthy, up and coming merchant, when his wagon was raided by the Kingslayers. Due solely to his looks, he was spared. Vferearivitch had grown quite used to the life.

He was busy washing a table, one of his many housekeeping duties as a slave in all but name, when he saw out of the corner of his vision, the door to the front storage room open. Not moments before had the reserve watchmen gone out to check on the outer gate because of what sounded to be a beast attack; So Vferearivitch was expecting to see one those men coming back to report, but instead, he saw with his own eyes, a little girl walk right through the door, out of the dark storage room, and into the light of the main hall, with not a care in the world.

She had a small smile. Vferearivitch found it charming, and thought aloud, “Did Rodney drag in a toy while out on watch?”

“It wouldn’t be the first time he’s done that.”

A few Kingslayers around him turned to the girl upon hearing his words, and chuckled.

“Must be, she’s a real cute!”

One of them remarked. Simply seeing such a face was enough to brighten any man’s day.

It was only when her cloak parted, and her arms rose, that the men’s jeering was cut short. Blood fell from beneath her cloak onto the ground. At the tips of her fingers, now revealed as being fully armored, were large yellow blots.

Vferearivitch’s eyes widened. He realized then that no one was coming up behind the girl, to escort her. His small smile of pleasant surprise promptly faded.

The girl’s smile deepened ever so slightly, by contrast.

On pure instinct, he dove under the table he’d been cleaning. Normally, this would be mortifying, as the Boss forced him to wear a short dress, but embarrassment was the least of his worries.

As Vferearivitch had thought,

Magic yellow spikes filled the air of the hall., emanating from the girl’s fingers. The first blew through the head of the man nearest to Vferearivitch. The second pierced the chest of another man, the third crashed into the middle of a group of four men playing cards, and the forth passed right through where Vferearivitch had been standing not a heartbeat before. Dozens of spikes flew through the hall, men were ripped apart, chairs and tables were blasted to bits, blood and dust flew through the air as the hall was littered with a barrage of spells.

Not much was left standing after those first few seconds, Vferearivitch included, he was cowering on his knees, with his hands over his head, shivering. There was a reason he didn’t fight.

Unlike him however, a dozen or so Kingslayers got to their feet, staring at where the sudden attack had come from, trying to identify the threat. When the dust cleared, they saw the aggressor. The proponent of death who’d just slaughtered half the room. When they saw that it was just some kid, some adolescent, Vferearivitch could feel their rage.

The girl drew two blades in a lightening quick action, one from her right wrist and the other from her left shoulder, it was so fast it made him dizzy. On cue, the remaining men in the room charged the girl, cursing expletives.

They thought she was just a magician. A powerful and scary opponent, yes, but one that after an attack like that, was surely out of mana, and if not, at the very least exposed with no spells to fire. It was simple matter to overwhelm someone of such a smaller frame.

The girl didn’t stay still however, she dashed forward, and cut through the back of the closest man’s knee in a cobra-quick action.

The man fell to the floor past the girl, before a shining blade impaled the back of his neck.

It was then when Vferearivitch realized this wasn’t someone the Kingslayers could defeat. He might not have been a fighter, but he wasn’t stupid.

A few more men charged the girl thereafter. They suffered the same fate. One threw a punch, before being uppercut in the head. Vferearivitch heard the crack of the man’s jaw dislocate. He was then disemboweled as the girl flashed around him, her blade cutting clean through the man’s abdomen.

A second man was running toward her, about to impale her with his large polearm, when she threw one of her blades at the guy’s chest. He was a big man, one of the tougher ones too, and shrugged it off despite cringing in pain.

A second, and third blade flew into the man’s chest, and then a forth flew into his throat. He didn’t stop. A kick from the girl, halted him dead in his tracks, however. Her boot hit the hilts of her thrown weapons, and pushed them further into the guy’s body. After a moment of standing still on his feet, he fell over backwards limply. A third man quickly followed up after this, but the girl simply picked up one of her weapons, and thew it at him. He fell to the floor a second later, like a fly that had been swatted.

When a throwing knife flew toward the girl’s face, she tilted her head, and it missed harmlessly.

That knife had been thrown by one of the less courageous men in the hall, the odd half dozen men who stopped their charge when they saw the girl’s first kill. Sweat was covering their faces, they were shaking. The only Kingslayer who had their bow with them – A real archer freak who’d sleep with the damn thing – sat frozen in fear, an arrow notched in his bow, but his hand trembling, his eyes wide.

So fast and so effortlessly their brothers had been dispatched. It wasn’t that fact alone that was terrifying. It was the vector that was behind the action. A single, smiling girl. She looked like she was having fun. At the same time, when she saw the man with the bow, her expression turned sour with a steel frown.

She now suddenly had the expression of that of a veteran warrior; not a juvenile. Her stone-cold frown, it was only one people who’d seen horrors unimaginable could wear, and that, that was what was terrifying. The girl standing before them was a monster. Not a person. And it was right in the middle of their home; Like a bull in a china shop.

…

Three more down. I recovered my weapons, and locked my vision onto the remaining people in the hall. Mark up dozen or so a more, and we’ll have this place cleared out in no time. That bow is a bit of a threat though. I lifted my hand toward the man with the bow, yellow wafting from my gauntlet. My spell fired a second thereafter, but the bowman broke out of his apparent shock and dove to the side, narrowly avoiding the yellow spike. I sighed.

Magic is so useful. It can really spoil me. I need to keep a lid on the rest of my mana though, so I can use it in case of an emergency. Alisson’s words about not underestimating the bandits shot through my head.

I broke into a sprint toward the last remaining bandits that were on their feet. Seeing this, some broke into a rout, running away from me, toward the door to what was probably the rear battlements. The others though were shaken out of their shock, and prepared to face me. The bowman fired a few seconds later at me, but, expecting the shot, I dodged out of the way mid run, and continued.

I blitzed across the hall within a few seconds, and needless to say, only one person, what looked to be a maid, managed to get to the door and slip to the other side before I cut them down.

I started with the men who had stood their ground. They were prepared, some with weapons, others just holding their fists up. I threw my two stilettos at the most dangerous men, and then closed in for CQC. I was simply too fast for the men. I outran their swings, slipped behind them faster than they could turn their heads, and made my cuts in fast, small motions.

Needless to say, these guys wouldn’t last a day in Freigat.

With a man point blank to me, I threw my baselard up, and punched him to stun him for a moment. Another man was punching toward me, so I immediately retaliated by kicking the baselard I had thrown, straight into the man. It only pierced his abdomen, but still inflicted enough to damage for him to collapse past me, eyes wide with shock. That bought me enough time to bring my other hand around, and stab the first man in the throat with my baselard.

Within a few lightning-paced seconds on my part, the survivors were all gutted, laying unmoving on the floor. The few who’d tried to run, I chased down and killed. There was one survivor though, who’d escaped, so, I gathered my weapons, reported the number of kills to Alisson, and kicked open the door that the last survivor, that maid, had fled through.

…

“…And I wasn’t informed of this earlier why?”

The Boss was a woman with tanned skin with large, exposed muscles, and long, black hair. Her green eyes shone brightly toward Vferearivitch when she asked her question. Despite being a woman, she was the largest Kingslayer. Which was why she was the Boss. She’d come from down south just recently, and deposed the past chief in a brawl. She had everyone’s respect for her cool, battle-tempered personality and her strong sense of morality. So when she asked a question filled with such vice, Vferearivitch couldn’t help but stumble on his words.

“I-it all happened so fast-! Everyone in the hall is probably already-!”

Vferearivitch was cut off when the door to the Boss’s quarters slammed open. There stood that devil, with a blank, focused expression. Her stoicism was suddenly broken by a guileless shock upon seeing the Boss. What ever thought had caused her to react this way, it faded quickly as her expression quickly darkened to its prior state.

She flashed into action, surging forward toward him and Boss with the speed of a lunging python. The Boss however, was just as fast. She hadn’t the time to arm herself before the intruder had entered, and so only brought up her fists to bare. She was a big woman, easily twice the size of the blue haired girl, and her muscles spoke the same story.

Vferearivitch cringed, fearing not only for his life, but for the Boss’s.

The Boss stepped to the side of the girl’s lunge, and grabbed onto one of her wrists. The girl was faster however, letting go of her weapon in that hand and withdrawing as to not be grabbed. She redoubled with a slash of her other weapon. The Boss reacted to this too, a hand reaching out to once again grab the wrist of the girl’s attacking arm.

If she could just get a hand on the girl, it was all over.

Instead, the girl, maybe knowing this, let go of her other weapon too, and disengaged entirely, playing it safe, despite the fact the Boss didn’t have any weapons. She drew two other blades, that were thin and conical, with a flourish, before redoubling her attack with another lunge. This time, the Boss didn’t try to grapple with her. She clenched her fists, and punched forward.

The speed of the both of them was immense, and Vferearivitch doubted either of them had time to react as they rapidly approached each other. The girl’s thrust with one of her blades connected cleanly on the Boss’s arm; However, the Boss’s fist, had hit the girl. A trade. The two of them stood locked there for a moment, shaking. The girl buckled first with a pained yelp. A punch from the Boss wasn’t something to take lightly. By the contrast, having been stabbed, the Boss looked far more composed, if not cringing a little. The two immediately blurred back into action a second later however, the girl sidestepping one way, and the Boss the other.

The girl thrust with her other weapon, into the side of the Boss, but contrary to her large frame, the Boss was quite fast, and managed to get out of the way. She caught the girl’s blade, and pulled it past her.

Probably taking the girl by surprise, she didn’t let go of her weapon, and she was dragged with the blade. With her back to the Boss, she was given a hard kick that sent her stumbling into the wall of the quarters with a large crash. If a grown man were on the receiving end of a one-two like that, no one would’ve blamed him for falling unconscious, but the girl miraculously stood on her feet, flat against the fall. The girl looked back at the Boss, with blood falling from her nose, she had an ominous glint in her eye.

“You might be a little girl but you sure as hell know your shit.”

The Boss remarked, bending down and picking up one of the girl’s dropped blades casually.

“That makes you a Nekomata. You’re a long way from home, girl.” The Boss flipped the blade in her hands for a moment. Upon glancing at them, she seemed taken back. “These are…!” Her face soured at the girl. “You’re either a murderer or a thief, I pray the ladder, for both our sakes.”

The Boss then threw the blade at the supposed Nekomata. The girl evaded and once more broke into an explosive sprint toward the Boss, her fingers glowing yellow.

“M-m-magic! B-Boss she’s going to-!”

Vferearivitch managed to get out a warning before the two were to clash once more. The Boss, after having thrown her weapon, dove forward, rolling across the floor and in the same action picking up the Nekomata’s second dropped blade. She rose forward in a diagonal slash at the girl. The girl evaded, and thrust back twice with each of her conical blades. The Boss evaded side to side before slashing once more with her appropriated weapon. For a few seconds, the two were locked in a close dance, death being narrowly avoided by centimeters with every attack. It was mesmerizing to watch.

A thrust on the girl’s side, evaded and countered with a punch from the Boss, that was then sidestepped around with a high roundhouse kick from the girl. The Boss, instead of dodging, grabbed onto the girl’s leg with both her hands. The girl’s eyes widened as she realized she’d made a mistake. The Boss spun the girl around off the ground and straight into a nearby table. The girl broke through the table with a loud crash.

Vferearivitch could see blood flowing from the girl’s lips, and a thought shot through him of pity, seeing someone younger than him take so much pain. The girl tried to move, but was sluggish, and couldn’t get up in time, and the grip on her weapons seemed to falter. The Boss leapt onto the girl, about to slam a fist down into her, taking advantage. It seemed that the fight was going to end right then and there.

The girl however, rolled out of the way. The pained expression and languid motions of the girl prior had evaporated; it seemed to have been a trick. Now, the Boss was wide open. Vferearivitch watched in horror as the girl punched the Boss, when her first connected, a yellow burst exploded outwards into the Boss’s side.

The Boss was knocked away rolling across the floor. Her side was completely gone. It seemed the girl had loaded her gauntlet with spells, and bet everything on her counterattack.

Forming spells, whilst fighting with swords and fists…It should be impossible. The mental strain of forming spells was one of the reasons why people couldn’t use spells mid battle. It left them vulnerable. This girl however, had just charged an enemy, while in the process of forming spells. That’s probably why she made such a gross mistake with that kick but…What if that kick wasn’t a mistake?

The glint in the girl’s eye shot through Vferearivitch’s head.

He couldn’t bear to look to see what happened next. The Boss was in daze, on the floor, when the girl pounced on her. She started raining down punches. She had her blades nearby, but for whatever reason didn’t use them. Her punches were fast, vicious, and animalistic. Blood flew as the Boss’s body caved under the barrage. She tried to resist, lifting her arms, when the girl suddenly withdrew her blades, and pinned the Boss’s hands to the floor.

The girl didn’t have to do that. She didn’t have to prolong her fight so much. In fact, Vferearivitch had the inkling that if she wanted to, the girl could’ve just used spells from the get-go, or ended the fight with her blades much sooner with one of those fancy tricks from earlier.

Vferearivitch watched in horror as the Boss was beat to pulp before his eyes. He simply stood there, shaking.

Fear suddenly coursed through Vferearivitch, suddenly coming to the realization that the girl had drawn out the fight just to make the Boss suffer, to give her perhaps a false sense of superiority. He wondered what she was going to do to him. He wondered why the hell she was so twisted, to come into a sleepy encampment that had nothing to do with her, and slaughter everyone inside.

It was a long minute until the girl finally stopped slamming her fists down at the Boss.

“Boss…Iyia…”

She hated when he called her that. He didn’t hear the quick reprimand that usually came with the name, and only then he accepted that she was dead. Perhaps it was easy to digest, knowing he’d soon be in the same place as Iyia. The girl stood up, blood dripping from her hands. She locked her vision onto Vferearivitch. Upon seeing her stony expression, he suddenly rounded up a bout of courage.

“Y-you’re…You’re a monster…a sadist…” He muttered, trembling, frozen in fear, staring at the girl.

The girl sighed, and walk toward Vferearivitch.

“It was an unfair fight.”

The girl suddenly said, kneeling down to Vferearivitch. It was the first thing that she’d said, and it momentarily stunned him, hearing such a quaint voice from someone who’d so mercilessly slaughtered Iyia and the rest of the Kingslayers.

She put a blue glowing hand to her chest, and Vferearivitch realized that she probably had a few broken ribs along with her clearly broken nose; However she was still almost expressionless. He shivered to think just what kind of pain she’d endured prior. Apparently interpreting Vferearivitch’s countenance as a question, the girl continued,

“Your gang is cavalry-orientated right? That’s what all those horses on the bridge are for.” She looked away. “I bet your ‘Boss’ was a quite a lancer. I could tell. But without her horse, and without her weapons…It wasn’t fair.” She shook her head. “It’s unsatisfying.”

Vferearivitch was stunned. Her open expression and sudden frankness was so surreal it felt dream like. But then Vferearivitch realized that she was probably just talking to herself aloud.

The girl stared at him. He shook, and the sudden smell of ammonia permeated through the room. The girl sighed.

“You’d make a good Sidonian. But you’re just in the wrong place, sorry.”

The girl lifted one of her blades up. Vferearivitch, even though he was about to die, couldn’t help but ask,

“W-why are you apologizing? Why…why do you sound so cordial when…when you just…a-aren’t you a sadist? A monster?”

The girl’s expression furrowed. She then looked at him and said straight faced,

“Maybe.”

Her mouth was curved into something resembling a smirk, but her eyes were dull, and steeled. Behind them were terrors unimaginable, but above all else, a flame of revenge that had yet to be satisfied; and only then did Vferearivitch understand what she meant by being ‘unsatisfied’.

With that, she brought her blade down, and Vferearivitch’s vision fell black immediately. He didn’t feel an ounce of pain. Just black.

…

A man fell before Alisson with a heavy thud. With a flare of Enhérejär, blood splattered across the bridge. Not many men were on the bridge, it was mostly horses, and they were now quite restless from all the violence. He pulled his own two mounts along to a large wooden portcullis, identical to the one on the other side of the bridge.

Celis, report.

The raucous laughing of men above had been cut short quite recently, so he knew that Celis had gone to work up there.

Thirty-eight. Gate will be on the rise in a moment.

He heard Celis respond. As she said, not a minute later did the rear portcullis slowly rise. On the other side, two men stood guard, along with the half dozen slave drivers. One of the men on guard turned to Alisson, at first on impulse, but then his face turned into confusion.

“Who the hell are you?”

Suddenly a blur dropped from above, and the man’s throat was slit before he was pushed aside into the ravine. Alisson walked forward, and fired off a Pictun spell at the other guard. It pierced his chest, and he stumbled, before falling off of the cliff and into the ravine.

The slave drivers, who’d been chatting with the men not moments before looked dumbfounded as him and Celis now approached them.

“W-w-what’s all this?”

“H-hey who the are these guys?”

Alisson wasn’t in the mood to talk with slaver scum. He lifted Enhérejär, and fired off a few Pictun spells. He took his time aiming, which gave the men time to realize what he was doing as spikes crashed into their comrades. Some fled, and one ran toward him and Celis. Alisson aimed carefully and shot down the runners, while Celis quickly dealt with the driver who’d tried to fight back. Within a few moments of panic and confusion, the entire caravan was dealt with. Save their cargo.

The cargo was of course the two shivering angels in the wagon’s cage. They were staring at him and Celis with fear. Clearly they couldn’t tell who him and Celis were, they were no fratello, that’s for sure, but they were still distant comrades.

Alisson stepped forward to the cage, and unlocked the door with Enhérejär, simply inserting the blade and letting it pick the lock, before pulling open the door. The angels both jumped. They were both hugging each other, and seemed to be brother and sister, twins. The both of them had golden hair, as most angels did, and bright blue eyes, as most angels did. They were wearing dirty, but intact, white and gold uniforms of the H.A.C.A. From the accumulated wear and tear, they’d evidently been away from home for a long while.

Their wings and halos were exposed. Their wings were not like a harpy’s with feathers, no; they were bright, and transparent, and shaped less like a bird’s wings and more like angular wedges. Their halos too were visible, but like the wings, they were very dull, two dimensional, and translucent, like they were but figments of the mind. This was because their wings and halos were not physical body parts. They were pure mana, radiating out of the angel’s bodies. Angels, by and large, had the most mana prowess and capacity out of any humanoid. Their wings and halos seemed to act as manifestations of excess mana, or conduits, either or; Alisson didn’t know the technicalities, other then pondering if his Opensen was in the same way not a body part, but pure mana. Either way, high ranking Angels’ mana capacity is second only to Andestinian arch-mages. Casters like these had no such thing as a Theresa’s Paradox. They could use practically every spell they could think of.

“W-who are you!?” One of the angels, the brother, who’d first called out for help, asked with shaky words. “W-what do you want!?”

Alisson sighed. The liveried angels looked to be just as innocent and naïve as they appeared.

“Before I answer you, tell me first who you are. Were it not for the single fact that you two are angels, you’d be dead along with the drivers who imprisoned you.”

The brother jumped, and hastened to explain. “W-we’re but simple emissaries! Messengers! That’s all!”

The brother cringed, awaiting Alisson’s response, when the sister meekly spoke up, “Please don’t hurt us…”

Alisson frowned. “Pathetic. And these are supposed to be allies?” He shook his head. “Fly. I don’t have any business you.”

Alisson turned away.

“W-wait! I-I’m Novolodorus Novlo Nolvelen, lowest order, an angel. T-thank you for rescuing us…”

“…A-and I’m Ersatiadorus Ersatias Ersalan. Lowest order, an angel as well.”

“…What else would you two be?”

Celis asked quizzically.

Alisson turned back to the angels, who’d apparently only now recognized that he had no intent to hurt them.

“M-may I know the name of the humans who hath done us such a deed this day?”

The brother asked tepidly. The Holy Angelic Country of Angela had its own language, but here these angels were speaking Phrengari. Alisson knew some of the angel language, but it was a very alien one. It didn’t exactly impart the feeling of ‘holiness’ to him, and so didn’t the artificial wings and halos, not like the angels of which his Lady Sidonia had spoke of.

“I’d be glad to oblige; if you told me who you two are. I don’t exactly go trusting strangers with my identity so freely.”

Alisson responded sharply. He didn’t like the fact that his first encounter with angels out in the world seemed to show that they were so pathetic. He’d met with delegates here and there, but they were, as all national representatives were, walking facades of what a country wanted others to see. If this was the true H.A.C.A, he had no interest in them.

The brother swallowed. “W-we’re the same way – Nobody should know we’re angels.”

Alisson’s eyes drifted to the large wings and clearly visible halos. Celis opened her mouth to say something, but kept quiet.

“W-we wore cloaks before…” The brother elaborated, seeing Celis’s and his quizzical looks. “…before we were captured.”

“And how was that possible?” Alisson asked. “You are angels are you not? You have an inborn flight spell; you don’t have any magic to protect yourselves?”

The brother looked away guiltily. “Well…we’re born with flight, but nothing else…we’re only messengers too, we’re not supposed to be fighting.”

Alison frowned. “…The H.A.C.A far underestimates the danger of the world if they send two defenseless children to a place as this. Whatever you were doing must not have been important to your people.”

Alisson said, perhaps a little too malignantly, but he wasn’t in the mood to play nice. For a moment, the brother and sister looked at him and Celis on the note of ‘defenseless children’.

“We’re part of the Arctrin Corp…we’re just rmessengers for extra-territorial operations…we were just initiates until a while ago, when we were drafted up to frontline duty for special operations…”

“They’re sending kids on spec-ops now are they?” Alisson asked again, and once more the two angels stared at him and Celis.

“N-no you misunderstand. The Arctrin Corp is made up of low-order angels because the only thing we’re good for is our flight.” The angel shook his head suddenly, “Well, ‘Fast and Low’ may be our motto but really the Principalities and Dominions above us can fly higher and faster…”

“Sounds more like a suicide corp.” Celis put in.

“So…” Alisson pressed his point, “What exactly are two angels doing here?”

“We were just returning from a delivery to Salva’kar from over the sea when a storm blew us off course and into Tarakia…we were just about to take flight outside city limits where no one should have been when a group of people noticed that we were angels…we took off but they used bolas on us like we were harpies…we would’ve been sold right then and there at the Taraki capital city…but we were apparently too expensive for anyone there…”

The storm he was mentioning was probably the one that had rolled in across Pūshkinskaya not a couple days ago. Out on the water, a storm like that was certainly a scary thought; Alisson suddenly had a newfound respect for these messengers, for flying in such conditions.

“What was the nature of this delivery?”

The brother frowned guiltily. “…I can’t say, not to humans like you two…but, it was for…for two…”

His words drifted as he looked over Alisson and Celis with a light of realization.

“Two…two Nekomata…”

Celis looked around for a moment, then to Alisson. “I think that’s us.”

Alisson frowned. “It appears so.” The angels were staring wide eyed at him and Celis, as if in disbelief. Alisson reached into his stallion, and withdrew a golden medallion. Showing the medallion, he took a deep breath, and stared down the angels. “I am-“

“Alisson Vi Nuam! M-milord!” The brother fell to his knees.

“M-milord!” The sister was quick to do the same.

Both the angels suddenly got down, and prostrated themselves before himself and Celis.

“T-these two angels at the bottom Hierarchy swear our absolute loyalty!”

Alisson was taken aback. “The hell?” He muttered in surprise.

“We were the ones that delivered your most recent orders along with your medallion. You should’ve been approached by a Kitsune in Daigoro about it, were you not?”

Alisson exhaled. “…Yes, the Kitsune did her job, but the orders arrived weeks later than they should’ve.”

“R-really? I thought we made good time…”

The brother’s shoulder’s slumped.

“No, that’s probably our faults for moving so quickly, don’t worry about it.” Alisson shook his head. “The greater concern is this: Since when did the Lady use angels to aid black operations? I hope you two are the only ones in on this – Or else perhaps this is why Andestine knows about us – Because of the massive network that you’ve mobilized in delivering a scrap of paper and chunk of metal.”

Alisson asked with scorn, but the brother was quick to shake his head.

“N-not at all! The reason we were sent specifically, being so underqualified…we were directly contacted by Michaela with no other intervention – No other divines know of our mission. From there, the informant network one that we had a fine trust with, of course.”

Alisson closed his eyes in relief. Good. It probably just was Tsuhara, Michaela, and few angels, who were in on this. They were probably asked directly by Sidonia. Alisson however frowned. If Sidonia has such a far reach, then why didn’t she just use her allies to do this whole mission? Alisson knew the answer to that. They just weren’t trustworthy. A Nekomata with an order was the closest thing to a guarantee in this world. Alisson knew this was the case, because he specifically was chosen. Alisson had a great deal of trust in his Lady, and she probably knew this, which is why he’d been used for such endeavors in the past.

Alisson shook his head clear of doubt. Enough questioning Sidonia. She was final, absolute, and above all else, was never wrong. Never. She was higher than a god. That was something Alisson couldn’t question.

Alisson frowned inwardly at himself. If he’d thought doubts back in Sidonian land, then both that familiar icy blue feeling in his mind and the Inquisition would be upon him within the blink of an eye. If he returned to Sidonia with such a heresy as doubt, then he’d be ostracized.

“So,” Celis spoke up, “You two better keep your mouths shut, and try not to get captured again. Or at least if you do, don’t say anything if you get tortured.”

The angels shivered.

Alisson nodded. “It’s as my apprentice says. However, I do have a request before you continue on your way. I know you two will probably head over the sea for safety’s sake, but if you get the chance, there are Kitsune fishermen stationed near Scratskoslovotskaya or around the area. Let them know that they will be getting company if you can; and when you return to the H.A.C.A, please inform Michaela of our status. Tell her that our mission has been completed, and that we must meet urgently with Sidonia.”

““Yes milord!””

Alisson smiled in response to the angel’s enthusiasm. His eyes sharpened however. It wouldn’t be long before they were in Scratskoslovotskaya. In other words, not long until Alisson would have to decide on whether or not to act on their hunch, to enter the Deadzone in search of a way within the Freigat structure.

With their mounts on the other side of the ravine, the four comrades ransacked the bandit base for supplies. Him and Celis, as well as the angels, stocked up on their food for the journeys ahead. Him and Celis were also keen to make use of the tools and workbenches laying around to patch up their gear as much as they could, which was also a positive. So, after saying goodbye to the angels, he ultimately decided to not knock down the bridge. Instead, he cut the ropes on the gates, meaning that they were easier to break down. Beasts were attracted by the defenseless horses on the bridge, and the corpses above, as the smell of blood permeated through the winter forest.

They soon be crawling all over the bridge in the few hours to come.

This would mask this base as having fallen to beasts, and nothing else. Since the base was a ‘toll’ sort of establishment, there must be quite a lot of traffic that comes through there. People will find out quickly. Better they think it beasts who have no reason to knock away the sturdy elven stone supports, than any intelligent force.

So, with these matters settled, as the sun set, him and Celis set off west on their mounts.

“So, how was it fighting the bandits?” Alisson inquired.

Celis shook her head. “The fighting was simple, but I had to think before I made my moves.”

“I liked the way you breached the front, you get bonus points from me.”

Celis smiled wryly at him on this. “Have you really been keeping track of my score this whole time?”

Alisson smiled. “Of course not. Once you get back to Sidonia, I’ll personally see to it that you’re promoted immediately. You’re already far greater than any apprentice that I’ve ever passed along, it would be improper of me to continue to assert my protection and ownership of you when you don’t need it.”

Celis’s mouth furrowed. “I don’t think so. Remember how I was beaten by that boy in Curlessi?”

“Yes…” Alisson said heavily. “That was a long time ago. And it was my fault. I thought that-“

“No, it wasn’t.” Celis shook her head. “You strengthened me by letting that happen. I wouldn’t be able to fight on my own if you just came running to my aide every fight…and the truth is, I’m glad you didn’t interfere, because I managed to pull out a victory in the end of it.”

Alisson fell silent. She was right, but he still didn’t like it. Simply being reminded of that sight was gut wrenching enough. Was sitting back really the right thing for him to do? He thought at the time, and most all the time throughout their travels in the south, that he needed to grant Celis with as much exposure and experience as possible; so that she wouldn’t die in Freigat, or at the very least, be able to handle herself while Alisson was away in Freigat without her.

“I suppose you’re right…It still hurts me to think of that sight.”

“Better to hurt then than being dead now.” Celis shrugged. “And stop thinking it was so painful. It hurt my pride more than it did my body; and I know that’s not something to care about.”

Alisson fell into a bit of a silent shock. Celis? Pride? That was pride? What made her get up to stand against that street rat after being beaten down? It was hubris?

Has her stoic nature simply been the result of pride?

The way she was so enduring in training, making him look like the fool. It made sense now. He peered over Celis. He now had a much better understanding of who she was. If this was true, then she was far more like him than he thought. The reason she was such a mystery to him in the first place was her pride; keeping her lips shut as to not embarrass herself, and why she didn’t ask for help in the same way he didn’t either.

She wasn’t consistent on that fact however. He saw today as she spoke so insouciantly in the face of strangers, to which she didn’t normally do. She was clearly changing, but so was he. He wondered to what degree the two of them affected each other. Just how much of a presence did Alisson have in her mind?

And what had made Celis suddenly bring up that Curlessi street rat so out of the blue?

He stared at her as she absentmindedly played with Basil in her hands.

***