The commotion had woken Oren, though he'd chosen to keep his head down, not wanting to involve himself in whatever insanity Cross had brought down on himself. He was exhausted -- he'd had the misfortune of occupying the room next to Inan the last few days, and the man was relentless with his overtures of friendship. The only thing that could have made things worse was if he'd been bunking with Cross, but Saint Gideon had volunteered to share with the demon, proclaiming that he was the only one who had the patience to stay with him for such an extended period. Oren hadn't been about to fight him, even if the subtle jab at his shortcomings had grated on his nerves.

A sharp knock on the wooden table in front of him startled Oren from his thoughts, and Oren flinched back, lifting his head and blinking blearily up at Gideon. He felt his face twisting into a scowl as he met Gideon's pensive stare, the slant of the man's brows more accusatory than anything he could've said in that moment.

Oren envied his talent for nonverbal judgment as much as he loathed him for it.

"You're rooming next to Inan, aren't you?"

Oren's brow furrowed as he slowly sat upright, rubbing at one eye with his knuckles. "Because I'm cursed, yeah, I am. Why?"

Gideon knocked lightly on the table again, bobbing his head in a short nod. "Go get him, and Rae if you can. Cross' shadows won't hold much longer if he's as drained as I imagine him to be. So, here."

He offered his hand.

Oren dropped his gaze to stare blankly at it, uncomprehending. What did Oren have to do with any of this? He wasn't Cross' keeper – none of them were equipped for that, with the possible exception of Gideon and Gideon alone. "I'm supposed to do... what with this?"

Gideon's eyes narrowed, the corners of his mouth ticking downwards. Ugh. Oren knew that look. He wasn't getting out of this.

"Copy me. You won't have my violin but I'm attuned to my magic — you should be able to hear any notes I make as long as I'm within the confines of the village. So find Rae and Inan, and then follow the notes back to me."

Oren's lip curled up, but he took Gideon's proffered hand. His magic surged at the contact, and his features smoothly transitioned to match Gideon's. Oren shook himself out, getting himself used to the physical changes; Gideon was shorter than him by a few inches, and slimmer. He'd have to consciously adjust his gait, so he didn't embarrass himself as he dealt with this inevitable shitshow.

He nudged Ilias as he shoved his chair back none-too-gently and stood, toes curling inside Gideon's soft-soled shoes as he stretched his arms out above his head. The redhead got to his feet, as well, either correctly interpreting Oren's intent or not wanting to be left behind; either way, it got him to follow Oren to the staircase.

As they started up to the third floor, Oren turned to glance at Ilias from the corner of his eye. The redhead was picking at the neckline of his offensively orange shirt, eyebrows scrunched together in what seemed like contemplation. Oren knew the look well enough to reach out and tap the back of the hand that was curled into the loose fabric of his pant leg; Ilias jumped slightly, but fixed him with an inquisitive stare.

"Valda," he said.

Ilias blinked. "Yeah...?"

"I... copied you the other day. I didn't realize it until I transformed. Must have done it unconsciously on the way here."

Realization lit up Ilias' green eyes, washing away the near-constant gleam of worry Oren had grown so used to. He nodded slowly, fingers nervously fiddly with the leather cords of his talismans.

"So, t-that's where she went..." He didn't seem angry, though it was rare for Ilias to become genuinely pissed off anyway, so that wasn't exactly news. No, what was strange was that he wasn't even bothered. If anything, the brightness in his eyes was due to his stark relief. "I didn't summon anyone after that, because I wasn't sure what happened to Valda... I'm g-glad she's okay."

"Yeah... I should've said something earlier... Sorry."

Oren internally rolled his eyes. God, did he hate apologizing. It wasn't as though he'd really done something wrong, either. He'd acted on pure instinct when he transformed into Ilias, and it just so happened that in that moment the redhead has summoned his favorite familiar. So really, none of it was his fault, rationally speaking. So why did he even care?

Not worth it, he thought dismissively. Ilias wasn't angry and they'd cleared the air. It didn't have to be anything more than that.

Oren stepped onto the third floor of the inn and immediately turned right to go down the hall where he was rooming. Ilias trailed behind him, wringing his hands; he'd gone white the moment it had sunk in that something had gone wrong, muttering prayers to himself that Oren didn't bother straining to hear.

Although Gideon's hearing was insanely good, to the point where Oren almost didn't have a choice about whether he understood the whispered pleas that fell from Ilias' mouth. Gods, he wasn't going to stay in this form a moment longer than he had to.

As luck would have it, Inan was just exiting his own room as Oren rounded the last corner. He paused at the sight of Oren, blinking a few times before his expression bloomed into a smile.

"Gideon, right?" he said, starting towards them. "And Ilias. I didn't expect to—"

"Not Gideon," Oren cut in shortly. "Something's up with Cross and Atlas. The asshole djinn left already, so Gideon sent me to get you. And Rae. If she's here."

If she wasn't, that was her own problem. Oren wasn't going to go traipsing all over town to track her down, that was for sure.

Inan blinked again, not quite startled but — maybe uneasy. "Right," he said, then rolled his shoulders back and shook off whatever had distracted him. "Right, okay, hold on, Rae's still in her room."

Oren hung back with Ilias, fidgeting, while Inan knocked on the door across the hall from his, presumably belonging to Rae.

A moment later, the woman in question appeared in her doorway, a smile on her lip that quickly fell as she spied the group in the hallway. Her eyes seemed to linger on Oren and Ilias, which had both of them tensing, before flickering back to Inan.

"Who got hurt?"

"We're not sure," Inan said. "Cross and Atlas went out this morning. I'd say it's likely it wasn't Atlas, but..." He trailed off, shrugging with a helpless air about him that Oren didn't bother trying to interpret. "Oren's come to fetch us, though, so I say we go find out."

Oren was half listening to their conversation, half attempting to tune out the rustling of clothes as Ilias shifted on his feet, talismans clinking together in a distracting symphony. It was none of his concern how Inan explained the situation to his teammate. He wasn't sure exactly what he was waiting for – he'd only copied Gideon once or twice, and never while his magic was active. He saw Ilias turn slightly in his direction, looking like he had a question – and then he heard it. Or felt it, really, clear like a ringing bell but. Vibrations, or something, an awareness that shivered throughout his entire body. It was weird and disorienting, but it certainly did the trick.

Oren would have no trouble following this back to its source.

"Let's get going," Oren called out impatiently. The faster they left the inn, the faster Oren could be done with this whole ordeal. Then again, finishing up here meant going out to continue exterminating lizardmen. With Rae and Inan. Gods, there was no winning here.

He heard Rae cut herself off mid-sentence, then respond, "Oh--yes, let's."

She and Inan drew even with Oren and Ilias before long, matching them step for step down the stairs.

"Don't worry. Your friend is probably fine," Rae offered, smiling reassuringly at the two of them. Judging by the way Ilias twitched, he didn't feel all that comforted.

"I'm sure he is," Oren replied, with as close to zero inflection as he could manage. Cross was always fine — that was his trademark at this point. Whatever havoc he caused or tripped into, he came out fine. "Spare some worry for your own teammate. Unless he's immortal, he's in the same amount of danger as the rest of us."

Ilias winced. "Not necessarily? They're, um, they're all really good, Oren."

"Gods," Oren muttered. He didn't speak for a moment as they exited the inn, focused instead on leading them down the twists and turns of the village, following the increasingly strong vibrations of Gideon's notes. "Okay, fine, whatever. It probably is Cross. Who cares."

Stolen novel; please report.

Cross was, as noted, always fine. Always. And if it wasn't Cross that had gotten hurt, Oren didn't know Atlas and couldn't stand his teammates. What was the point in worrying about someone he'd likely never see again, who he hadn't actually met—

"Isn't that... natural?"

Oren snapped his gaze to Ilias again, who shrunk back, spooked by the intensity of Oren's eyes. Now Oren... Oren was quick to anger. Everyone in the guild knew that. There was no stopping it, really, only bracing for the inevitable.

"You, uh... said that out loud?"

"...Awesome."

"But... isn't it?"

"What?"

"Isn't it natural to care?"

"I don't know the guy--"

"But he's a person, like us?"

Why is everything a question with him? Oren thought, irritated at the lilt that caught the tail end of whatever Ilias said. The man was nervous, he knew that, but he couldn't help feeling grated by the inflection; his skin crawled, his fingers curled into his palms. He set his teeth and hissed out a slow breath. Everything bothered him today.

Gods above, he really was horrible.

He blamed it on the Inan and his ilk, because that was natural for him.

"Whatever," Oren sighed after a beat of silence, during which Ilias had shifted several feet away from him, apparently terrified of whatever he saw on Oren's face.

Rae and Inan had kept silent during this exchange, and it was almost a shock when Rae let out a quiet laugh, gently elbowing Inan as leaned towards him, her voice dropped to a faux whisper.

"I think pretty boy might be...oh, what's the word for people who don't show their true feelings? I feel like there's a word for that," she joked.

Oren groaned and flung his head back. He didn't follow any gods but if one of them wanted to impart some timely divine wisdom on how to deal with annoying summoners, he'd gladly take it.

"He's processing," was all Inan said, shrugging.

Oren ignored the lot of them as they drew nearer to the notes' location. He could see them now, hovering just outside a small building. A house, maybe? A healer, hopefully, for Cross' sake.

"Up ahead," he said, and quickened his pace. Ilias hurried to keep up with him, and Inan and Rae did the same.

Just as they reached the building, however, the door burst open in front of them. The faintest tremor of the earth beneath them told Oren who it was before the djinn appeared in the doorway, irritation rolling off him in waves. Sia had detailed the first day's events to him that night, shooting Aaramis venomous glances every time she brought up something particularly egotistical he'd done. Oren had been happy to let her blow off steam, but he couldn't help but wonder if she'd been exaggerating the man's abilities – because who could do that kind of magic, with that kind of ease?

Okay, no exaggeration necessary, Oren thought, eyeing the djinn warily as the earth once again settled.

Aaramis' eyes landed on their group as he stopped outside the house. Or it was more accurate to say his eyes found Rae and Inan – Oren and Ilias might as well have been rocks on the side of the road for all Aaramis seemed to give a shit about them.

"They're inside with the brat. From what I can tell, he's mostly fine. But I can't be sure since they fucking kicked me out."

Oren nearly snorted at that, but a look from Ilias drained the amusement from his expression. Right. Wouldn't be smart to go provoking the djinn capable of dropping the earth out from beneath Oren's feet. He'd save the snide remarks for later, when he was out of the proverbial firing range.

Rae's eyes bounced from Aaramis to Inan. "Do you want to check on him?"

Inan thought for a moment, but ultimately shook his head.

Oren, meanwhile, dropped his magic the moment Gideon exited the house, a moment or two after Aaramis. The vibrations were silenced instantly, thank the gods.

Gideon made his way over to where Oren and Ilias stood, dispelling his own magic as he went. "Cross is fine," he said. It wasn't news – the brat couldn't have been Cross, given that Aaramis was pissed he hadn't been able to stay with him. "Exhausted, but not injured. Atlas was infected from a bite, but the cleric here took care of the worst of it, I'm guessing. He looked to be on the mend from what I saw of him."

"That's... good?" Ilias offered, hesitant.

"So we're here for nothing?" Oren hissed, shoulders slumping. He'd gotten worked up, and for what? No one was even remotely dying, apparently.

"Not nothing," Gideon replied, his voice threaded with that endless well of patience Cross never tired of testing. "Sia's going to help with the last of the cleansing, otherwise I doubt she'd be inside still. And it's good we know what's going on. We only have two more days to complete the job and we'll be down a man now."

Great. That meant the rest of them would be picking up the slack. And by the rest of them, Oren meant Gideon and Sia, because gods knew he and Ilias weren't going to be any help if one of the heavy hitters was out of commission. Unless someone wanted bait. And if that was the case, that same person was going to get one of Oren's feet up their ass.

"We'll still hold up our part," Rae cut in, drawing the group's attention. She tilted her head in Aaramis' direction, and, well, given his thunderous expression and clenched fists, Oren could see how he might be willing to go on a lizard hunting spree, all on his lonesome. At least the gods-damned ground wasn't shaking anymore. "Aaramis can handle a group himself." She caught Gideon's eye. "Do we know what happened?"

"The cleric asked us to leave before I could get Cross to tell us anything," Gideon replied. "But they must've been overwhelmed. They hadn't had any trouble before now, at least nothing Cross mentioned."

"As long as he's going to be alright, the why of it doesn't really matter to me," Inan said, offering a slight smile. "I'll have to thank Cross for bringing him back."

Rae nodded her agreement. "We owe him one, that's for certain." She paused, looking as though she wanted to say something else, then evidently changed her mind and settled on, "I'm glad they're both okay."

"I'm sure Cross will be happy enough knowing Atlas will be alright," Gideon said.

"Should give us his part of the reward," Oren muttered beneath his breath. Ilias, the only one close enough to hear him, shot him a wide-eyed look, to which Oren rolled his eyes and waved him off. Of course he wouldn't actually ask for that, but it would be nice. And if not his whole portion than to compensate for the two days he'd be out of action.

Gideon would skewer him with the pointed end of his bow if he caught wind of Oren's thoughts, which was threat enough to smooth the annoyance from his face as best he could.

Rae hummed, her eyes flicking Oren's way. He avoided eye contact, crossing his arms and angling him away. She couldn't have heard that, unless she was fae... oh gods, was she fae? Inhuman traits didn't always present themselves as physical features, or they were hidden – Oren was proof of that. Shit. He'd have to watch what he said around her from now on.

"I suppose, if you think he'll turn down the offer, something else can be worked out," Rae announced brightly. "Not money" – Gods-fucking-damn it, she was fae, wasn't she? – "but maybe something more useful. For example...you're entering the games, right?"

Rae stuck a hand into her pocket, rooting around for something as she approached the gathered Roses. Oren pointedly looked away from her, wincing, but he couldn't help but sneak glances as she skipped right up to Ilias. Metal flashed between her fingers as she offered something to Ilias. It looked familiar – a talisman, maybe?

"I'm sure this could help. I've other magic items at home, but those will have to wait until we meet there. I was given this on our last job--but, I haven't bothered to contract with it just yet. My other spirits do enough, as I'm sure Oren can attest."

Ilias' hand reflexively closed around the object (definitely a talisman, if that was his reaction) before he made a quiet noise of surprise and shoved it back into Rae's hands.

"Uh, no, no, that's not—" The terror was radiating off Ilias in waves. His hands curled against his chest, which clearly wasn't enough for him, as he then stuffed them under his arms, like he was physically preventing himself from reaching out for the talisman again. "Um, uh, just— I don't need a reward! I haven't done... anything... it's Cross who..."

Gideon shifted closer to Ilias, putting himself between the stuttering redhead and Rae. "That's a very kind gesture," he said placidly, "but it's too much for us to accept. Ilias is right. If you do want to do something, it should be for Cross."

Oren, for his part, had no earthly idea what the fuck was going on. Contracts were rare, he knew that much; barely anyone had the talent for taming (or as Ilias would say, befriending) celestial beasts. That Rae had a beast's talisman without it being in a pact with her was... weird. Oren didn't discuss the specifics of his magic with Ilias much – beyond the few occasions he'd copied Ilias while he was summoning (which he never did on purpose, because it was a dick move to steal the guy's summons), he couldn't say he had much reason to be invested in any of it. And Ilias was paranoid by nature, he didn't need any convincing to assume everyone was out to get him. But maybe he had a reason to be suspicious of Rae's intentions here.

Why would she willingly give up such rare and powerful magic, to a man she'd never met before?

Rae tilted her head, her smile still broad and steady. "But, isn't helping anyone on your guild a way of helping him, if you think he won't accept the offer of a debt? After all, the tourney is a guild event. While the matches are individual, the initial part requires everyone to be at their best. Assisting you, here, would be helping him, no?"

That wouldn't get her anywhere, Oren knew, and from the way Gideon's expression almost imperceptibly hardened, he wasn't about to dismiss a chance to force Rae's hand, even if it wasn't necessarily information he wanted to disclose.

"Ilias won't be participating in the tourney unless someone gets injured," Gideon explained. "So, again, a kind gesture, but not one we can make use of." He paused, debating with himself, before adding, "And, I'm not sure if you've noticed, but Ilias is... uncomfortable with the offer. Pushing it won't warm him up to the idea any."

Rae slowly slipped the talisman away, before nodding her understanding. "A shame, but I understand. I'll have to think longer on how to repay all of you."

Oren didn't trust the glint in Rae's eye, and he scooted back another few steps, snagging Ilias' arm to pull him along. Ilias didn't protest, though Oren did see his eyes drop to where Rae had stowed the talisman, and his throat bobbed as he swallowed. It wasn't temptation, Oren didn't think – it was that wariness that only ever subsided when Hawthorne was around.

Gideon smiled, pleased, but Oren caught the faintest edge to it that spoke volumes about how he was really feeling. He didn't get angry often, like Ilias, but Gideon wasn't actually a saint. They were lucky he was as deferential as he was, and not only because the rest of them were sorely lacking in the manners department. A truly angry Gideon was not something Oren had any interest in seeing.

Again.

"As I said, it should be for Cross," Gideon said, that carefully maintained patience undercut with a hint of steel. "Ask him, that'll keep you from having to stress over it. He'll likely take a meal, if anything."

That done, he turned to address Inan, as well. "We'll be going then, once Sia is finished. If you'd all rather stay with your teammate, we understand. We can handle ourselves for a day and then perhaps reconvene tomorrow."

Oren perked up at this. He would much rather spend the day with his guild mates than Rae and Inan; he could copy Sia, maybe, and help from the sidelines.

As if on cue, Sia stepped out from the healer's house at nearly the same time Gideon said her name.

"I'm here," she said, tucking her hands behind her back. "Atlas will be fine. The other cleric is finishing up now." Her eyes flickered to Aaramis. "And, if you're planning on staying, you should know she said he's not allowed back in." Her expression flickered with repressed amusement, and Oren bit his lip to stifle his own laugh. "I believe her exact words were that she doesn't tolerate people without respect. Or, something like that."

"Is Cross staying?" Gideon asked.

"You'd probably have to pry him off that Atlas guy with a crowbar."

"Oren," Gideon sighed, the warning much more potent this time, and Oren wrinkled his nose, annoyed, but he relented as he joined Sia, planting himself at her side in a way that said very clearly he would not be leaving it any time soon.

Sia swatted Oren's arm as he joined her, but otherwise relaxed with his presence. Her attention flicked to Gideon, pointedly avoiding the dirty look Aaramis was sending her.

"He'll be staying as pointless as it is. He'll probably be out before the guy wakes up."

"A day apart might do us some good," Inan agreed, his own reckless laughter far more audible despite the glower Aaramis graced him with. "When Atlas wakes up we'll see about heading out ourselves. Right, Rae?"

"Right. We'll be fine by ourselves for a day," she chirped.

"Then we'll see you all tomorrow for our last day on the job."

With that, Gideon beckoned the others to follow him and set off for the village entrance. Oren spared the other group a final, cautious glance as he walked away, once again grabbing Ilias to make sure he didn't get left behind. It had happened more than once, and avoiding the lecture he'd get from Gideon was worth the minimal effort it took to keep the redhead walking in step with them.

He figured they'd collect Cross on their way back into the village, if he wasn't already passed out in his room at the inn, which was another fixture of Cross' existence. Crashing after pushing himself to the point of magical exhaustion. He could spend the rest of the job comatose for all Oren cared; hell, they'd probably all be better off for it, that Atlas guy included.

Not that he'd voice that thought to anyone but Sia. But still. He thought it had some merit.