Corvus lost track of the passage of time while he was sitting in that chair. He couldn’t think of anything but what Johanna had said, and what she was talking about. His mind raced, thinking about hundreds of different things that she could have possibly meant, and how to respond to each of them.

“Cabin boy!” Gilgamesh shouted, snapping Corvus out of his worries.

“Hmm?” Corvus turned his gaze to Gilgamesh, who had a rather tired look on his face.

“I’ve been trying to get your attention for half an hour now.” His soothing voice was steeped in irritation.

“Really? Huh.” Corvus looked down to the stone floor. “How long have I been sitting here?”

“I don’t know, there's no way to tell in here.” Gilgamesh shrugged in annoyance.

“Then how do you know that it’s been half an—”. Corvus began, raising an eyebrow.

“I just know, ok?” Gilgamesh crossed his arms in indignant annoyance.

“You're like a kid.” Corvus shook his head, getting to his feet. “What did you want?”

Gilgamesh straightened, looking around the room with a bored look on his face. He motioned towards the walls and then the wooden box that Cleo had given Corvus.

“You’ve been sitting here for who knows how long. Don't you think you should become familiar with your new room? Maybe find out what secrets Cleo gave you?” Gilgamesh chuckled to himself, lazily walking towards the far wall to find something to lounge on.

Corvus blinked. He only just realised that he had no idea what his room was like. He’d been so focused on overthinking Johanna’s words that he didn’t even know the basic contents of his room.

He turned his eyes to the candle that Johanna gave him. The pitch-black wax of the candle had not melted even slightly, and the small glinting stones within it were blinking in and out of view seemingly randomly. It's flame was large and bright, so bright in fact that it illuminated the entire room just as much as the fireplace did in the last room.

Corvus reached out to touch the flame, passing his fingers through the flame. The fire swam over his fingers, providing a sense of loose comfort as Corvus saw the burns fade away again and again.

Corvus tore his gaze from the candle, observing the room. It was relatively small compared to the other sights within Desperius, being no larger than fifteen feet long and wide. It was made of the same black stone as everything else, yet there were no roots like the rest of the fortress.

It was rather simple and small, yet very well furnished. His bed was a low, comfortable looking straw mattress covered in fluffy rugs and furs. It was the same as the ones that the others had by the fire, so it was probably well worth lounging on, which Gilgamesh seemed to agree with, as he began to snore the moment his face hit the straw pillow.

The table that Corvus had laid the candle was in fact a small study desk with a small, neat stack of blank scroll paper beside a quill and empty pot of ink. Corvus turned away from the bright light, towards the flickering shapes in the room.

There was a large cupboard on a far wall which, upon closer inspection by Corvus, contained several sets of clothes, some were light pyjamas like the ones he was wearing, some were more solid day clothes. After rifling through the immaculate wardrobe, Corvus saw a familiar sight out the corner of his eye. His jacket and trousers, perfectly repaired and cleaned were lying to the side.

Corvus felt a tug in his chest, as he brushed his hand over the material. It wasn’t much, but it was still one of the few things that he had to remind him of who he once was. A particularly loud snort from Gilgamesh brought a scowl back to Corvus’ face, who was trying very hard to not wring the spectre’s neck.

Corvus closed the wardrobe, scanning what remained of the room. There was another small chest next to the far wall, shrouded in the shadow of the candle’s receding light. Corvus eyed the chest carefully, walking slowly towards it. The wood was fairly old, with slightly rusted metal edges with black runes quietly pulsing.

He placed his left hand on the metal clasp at the front, slowly levering it open. The lid of the chest creaked as Corvus peered inside. He couldn’t see anything inside, so decided to open it a little further. There was nothing inside. Just a simple wooden chest with a creaking lid.

Disappointed, Corvus closed the lid and walked back to the small desk. He turned his gaze to the box that Cleo had given him. He grabbed it with some difficulty with his single hand, placing it down onto the desk.

“You know, cabin boy, you can take that sling off now.” Gilgamesh turned over, blinking the black out of his eyes and returning to sleep.

Corvus paused, his left hand flying up to his wrist, defensively. The thought of removing his only safety net hadn’t even crossed his mind. Yes, there was the ring of runes that surrounded his room that was supposed to stop all the nature magic from coming in, but someone could’ve made a mistake. Someone could have sabotaged it. Someone could be trying to kill him right now and he could do nothing to stop it.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

“Calm down!” Gilgamesh was sat bolt upright, his shifty eyes dark and piercing.

Corvus looked at him, confused.

“Look at yourself, damn it.” Gilgamesh brought his head down into his hand, shaking it.

Corvus looked down, and caught his breath. He was shaking. Not just quivering, or slightly shivering, but shaking completely, like a leaf in a hurricane. He reached out and steadied himself on the desk, his breaths ragged and terrified. Corvus’ legs gave out, collapsing down beside the chair.

“You fool. You are safe here. You do know that?” Gilgamesh scanned his face, his shifting eyes unreadable.

Corvus took several ragged breaths, trying to quell the pounding in his chest.

“I'm not…taking it off.” Corvus managed, his voice weak and quivering.

Gilgamesh sighed, lying back down on his bed, his face guarded and restrained.

“Fine. At least finish exploring your ‘new home’ before you collapse again.” Gilgamesh spat the words, distastefully.

Corvus nodded weakly, pulling himself back to his feet, the candle-light shining back on his face.

He tested his legs, making sure that he wouldn't collapse again, carefully stepping towards the wooden box on his desk. It was simple, dark wood with no defining features whatsoever, save for a small copper latch on the lid. After s few seconds of fiddling, the lid popped open, opening in silence.

Corvus’ mouth opened, but no sound came out.

The twin cutlasses that he had seen in the weapon room lay in front of him, their black sheathes polished and their round basket guards replaced with a simple rounded disc that fitted over the top of his hand perfectly. There was a ring on the bottom of each pommel, larger than the rings used for display, but not so large that it affected their balance. The blades had been shortened slightly, each about 2 feet long including the handle, for easier manoeuvrability.

There was a small sack sitting at one side of the box, a note pinned to the cloth. Corvus reached in and pulled the note free, holding it in front of the candle so it was easy to read.

Corvus,

During your time unconscious, I studied your gun and its ammunition, in the hopes that I could replicate them. I have been unsuccessful in recreating the gun, however I did my best to get you some additional ammunition. It is not of the quality that you previously had, however I am confidant that it will do the job. There is also a piece of leather beneath the bag that you will need. Press it against the chest in your room and all will be clear.

Stay safe, and welcome to Desperius.

Cleo

Reading Cleo’s words gave Corvus some sense of comfort. He could almost hear her comforting yet serious voice speaking to him as he read it. He gently lifted the pair of blades out the box and onto the desk, careful not to let them roll around so to not damage them unnecessarily. He lifted the sack carefully, feeling the weight and roll of each individually packaged bullet.

Indeed, there was a small piece of light leather beneath the sack, a twisted dark rune emblazoned on the front. It was no larger than Corvus’ palm, but it felt noticeably heavier than regular leather. Striding back towards the chest, Corvus placed the leather down on the chest, holding it in place, creaking the hinges slightly.

The wood creaked even further, shuddering slightly as its contents seemed to warp within. Corvus held the leather steady, his curiosity mounting more and more. The sounds stopped in an instant, refilling the room with silence, save for Gilgamesh’s loud snore. Corvus tilted his head, lifting the leather scrap back up.

It was wrinkled and wispy, cracking at the slightest movement. The rune that it once had was gone, replaced with a thin layer of charcoal. The rune flashed to life on the chest, adding its gentle pulse to the rhythm set by the perimeter of dark letters.

Corvus reached for the clasp that held the lid shut, tugging it carefully. It didn’t move. He tried again, harder than before, sting nothing. Corvus was about to break the chest open as the irritation mounted, but Gilgamesh chimed in.

“Push, not pull.” Gilgamesh called out wearily.

“Oh.” Corvus raised an eyebrow, pushing the lock into the chest.

The lock sprung open, causing the lid to fly open at incredible speed. Corvus looked into the chest, the dark empty wood replaced by an expansive void. There was a faraway knocking sound, then there was something coming out of the chasm. Something large. Large and fast.

Corvus backed off moments before a hurricane of wood and steel took his head off.

Loud clanking and slamming of wooden panels followed, the clinking of steel and rattling of chains coming soon after. Racks and displays finally took shape in front of Corvus. Gilgamesh was roused by the noise, staring at the spectacle, a smile spreading over his face.

The noises stopped, the true contents of the chest revealed. It was a mini armoury, though it was mostly empty, that spread all over the wall that it was pressed against.

There was a rack that held Corvus’ weapon belt, fully stocked with gleaming knives and new leather loops to hold his cutlasses. Beside it was Raven, in her holster, pristine and clean.

There were several bundles of clothes on a separate shelf, various levels of armour hanging beside it with everything from light padding to a full set of plate. It all looked about Corvus’ size, even the steel plated chest.

Several racks of blades hung low to the ground, with everything from small, concealed daggers to great swords that were taller than him.

Gilgamesh whistled.

“Not half bad for a personal armoury, is it?” He chuckled, checking his hair in the armour.

Corvus pulled Raven from her holster, pulling open the barrel to chest for rounds. After he made sure she was empty, Corvus sighed, stumbling towards the mattress. Gilgamesh voiced his concerns, but Corvus wasn’t listening. His body was beginning to give out, and he wanted to be lying down when it did.

He collapsed onto the straw, keeping his right arm off the ground and letting out a breath into the air. He turned onto his left side, hugging Raven close to his chest as his eyes fluttered closed and deep sleep engulfed him.

***

Corvus sat bolt upright, the loud knocking on his door echoed through the room like a church bell.

Corvus got to his feet, holding Raven close. Henrith’s voice echoed from outside.

“Corvus?! You awake, Buddy?!” His shouting voice was almost unbearably loud.

“I am now!” Corvus called back, placing Raven on the table beside the still-burning and still-unmelted candle. Corvus stretched, his back cracking.

“Oh! Great! Hey, good news!” Henrith laughed loudly.

“Good enough to wake me up?” Corvus grumbled, cracking the tension out of his neck.

“Yep. Apparently, we’re starting training early!” Henrith sounded ecstatic.

“Really? How early?” Corvus raised his eyebrows in surprise.

“Why do you think I’m getting you up?” Henrith’s laugh was extremely contagious.

“Today?”

“Now! C’mon, get your fighting stuff! First lesson is in about 10 minutes!”