Bloody Delahaye sat on the edge of the pier, legs dangling over the water. The crystalline waters lapped at her toes, so clear that she could see the silt and sand below, along with aged, sunken wood and passing fish, the bounty of the sea on clear display. She prodded the water with a foot, watching the fish scatter.
“Not like you to be sulkin’.”
Delahaye looked up, a smile touching her lips as she beheld the woman standing next to her. Eurydice Ihejirika was, to Delahaye’s eyes, the most beautiful woman in the world. Which was high praise, considering the breadth of beautiful women she made an effort to surround herself with. She had midnight skin and eyes the colour and warmth of honey. She kept her curly hair tied up, lending it the appearance of a frizzy cloud hanging behind her head.
“Tell me your troubles, Cap’n. I reckon I got wisdom left yet to share, eh?”
Eurydice’s patois was thick as molasses, but Delahaye understood her just fine. Captain and First Mate in tune with one another in a way only the closest of companions could be. She took a seat, leaning against Delahaye. She laid one hand over Delahaye’s own, drawing a sigh from the gangly woman.
“Picked a fight I shouldn’t have. Rich prick and his friends. He was goin’ after me and this sweet maid, yeah? She serves a new acquaintance I made, and… Lord, Eury, she is a skittish little mouse. I couldn’t just sit there and let the bastard insult us. Especially after he made a grab for her.”
Delahaye shook her head.
“Took care of his lackeys well enough, but the main lad himself? Never been whalloped like that before, I tell ya,” she rubbed her jaw, the vivid, painful memory of his fist shattering her mandible replaying in her mind. He’d flattened her nose, snapped her arm, and the last thing she remembered was a fist, wreathed in a shell of glowing force, slamming into her chest. She patted her torso with a wince.
Eurydice nodded thoughtfully, eyes to the sky as she listened to Delahaye. She did not speak for a long time, the silence that hung between them comfortable. Finally, she hummed.
“You stopped an innocent person from gettin’ caught up in things. Protected her from someone lookin’ to do her harm. What is there to regret, Dela? You picked that fight, and you were right to do so.”
Delahaye shrugged helplessly, but Eurydice’s hand came up, cupping her cheek. She turned her head, pressing her forehead to Delahaye’s.
“You keep tellin’ yourself you ain’t a hero, Dela. You ain’t, not back home. But this place, it ain’t home. You’re just Delahaye here, Cap’n. So why not be a hero? You keep sayin’ this is a new, fresh start. So I’m tellin’ you to take advantage of it. That’s my wisdom, there.”
Delahaye raised her hand, placing it over the hand holding her cheek. She closed her eyes, a shuddering sigh racking her body. It was an exhausted noise. A death rattle from a woman who still lived.
“What would I do without you, Eurydice?” She asked, softly. Her First Mate laughed. It was a musical sound. Hearing it again buoyed Delahaye, filling her heart with a warmth she had longed for for years.
The two of them stood. Eurydice’s hand slid away from Delahaye’s face, coming to rest on her hips. She looked up at Delahaye, and the taller woman leaned down to kiss her. They remained there, a moment stretching into an eternity.
“You’ll have to figure that out, lady love,” Eurydice said with a jovial smile. They pulled apart, and Delahaye took Eurydice’s hands, giving them a squeeze.
“‘Cause I’ve been dead a long while, and you’re real far from home. So quit loungin’ in your memories, Cap’n. Wake up.”
Delahaye’s eyes grew misty with tears, and Eurydice leaned up on the tips of her toes to wipe her eye with her thumb.
“You got this, Delahaye. So go. Make me proud.”
The last thing Delahaye saw of Eurydice Ihejirika was her smile, just as she had the day she’d lost her. They stepped apart, and the memory dissolved into mist.
…
Primrose had sat vigil by Delahaye’s bedside for the better part of a week. She had yet to awaken, and the heiress grew more worried by the day. Other priests of the Healer had come by, and as far as any of them could determine, she was fine. Simply refusing to awaken, for some reason or another.
At first, she’d been incredibly angry with the Outworlder. She’d gone and caused another mess, so soon after the first. But her frustration had ebbed as Mel relayed the events. Delahaye had come to her defence, preventing Conroy Kenester from laying hands on the elf. She’d very nearly died coming to the defence of a woman she barely knew. As much as Delahaye had stated she was no hero, those were the actions of one.
They were the sort of actions that Primrose’s god so loved.
An aura brushed Primrose’s, and she tensed. It was just a brief glimpse, but she was a priestess, and recognized Transcendent power when she sensed it.
She looked up, finding another figure standing beside Delahaye’s bed. They were beautiful, an androgynous person with fair skin and sculpted features. Their eyes were covered with bandages, their thin frame draped in ragged clothes.
Primrose stood hurriedly, beginning to kneel, but the person stopped her with a gesture. Slowly, she returned to her seat.
“She is very brave,” Sacrifice said, their voice a gentle murmur.
“She is, your Holiness,” Primrose said with a nod, her heart thundering in her ears. Sacrifice smiled, before turning to the heiress. The direct attention of her deity, even through an avatar, caused her entire body to shudder. Primrose struggled to remain seated, but she did. Sacrifice placed something in her lap.
“Give this to her, when she awakens.”
Primrose nodded, but when she turned to reply, the god had vanished. Primrose deflated, sinking into her seat. She looked down at what Sacrifice had entrusted her with. It was a simple wooden box, and within it, a stone. A fist-sized marble that radiated a gentle glow. Brushing her fingers across it instilled Primrose with newfound confidence, as if the stone were reassuring her. She closed the box, returning her eyes to Delahaye.
The slumbering Outworlder’s face shifted, subtly. Primrose leaned forward. Her lips parted in surprise as tears brimmed at the corners of Delahaye’s eyes, rolling down her cheeks as she slept. Silence reigned, until Delahaye spoke. It was but a whisper, but Primrose heard it all the same.
“Eurydice…”
…
When Delahaye’s eyes flickered open, she was met with the sight of Primrose leaning over her, concern etched into her face. She sat up, wiping tears from her face.
“You checkin’ for blemishes? You won’t find none on this pretty face, I’m afraid,” Delahaye said as she rose up.
Primrose sat back, nodding. She looked pale, almost anxious. The heiress was clutching a box in her hands like her life depended on it, and Delahaye raised an eyebrow– which she was very glad to have once again. Primrose held the box out, and Delahaye accepted it; opening it without delay. She whistled appreciatively as she beheld the stone that lay within the simple container.
“What’s this, then?” She asked, holding it in her hand.
The story has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
“An Awakening Stone. You had a… a visitor, whilst you slept,” Primrose said, her voice stammering as she mentioned the mysterious ‘visitor.’
“You use them to awaken new essence abilities.”
Delahaye nodded, turning the stone over and over in her hands. She felt warmth bleed into her body as she held it. Confidence, and courage. She closed her hands around it, and the light grew brighter, and brighter, until they were both forced to squint against the intensity. When the light dimmed, and died away, the stone had vanished into her body.
Conjuring her Inventory Log had become second nature to Delahaye, and she quickly navigated to the freshly updated page.
----------------------------------------
Inventory Log
“Water Essence.”
Ability: [Healing Wave] (Water)
* Spell (Healing)
* Base cost: Low mana.
* Current rank: Iron 0 (00%)
* Cooldown: None.
* Effect (Iron): Imbues life energy through a wave of water, giving a small burst of instantaneous healing.
----------------------------------------
A note slipped out as she turned the page. It was a simple scribble.
Awakening Stone of Heroism - Absorbed.
“Looks like I’ve gone and nabbed myself an ability to heal,” Delahaye said, re-reading the entry a few times. She looked up at Primrose, holding out a hand.
“Waters of Life!”
Primrose let out a shriek as she was doused with water. Delahaye erupted into laughter, as a sodden Primrose stood. Her hair was flattened against her face, giving her the appearance of an extremely unhappy cat post-bath.
She looked like she was primed to explode, then, letting out a breath, she erupted with flame. The heiress turned into an effigy, standing still as she burned. When the flames died down, she was dry.
“We’re even now, lass,” Delahaye said, still unable to contain her laughter.
“That’s for lightin’ me on fire!”
Primrose let out a breath, closing her eyes. When laughter, gentle and quiet, joined Delahaye’s, it took Primrose a moment to realise it was her own.
…
With Primrose’s assistance, which she was willing to accept this time around, Delahaye painfully limped her way through the Primadola Estate. The two of them made their way from Delahaye’s room, until they arrived in one of several mess halls within the labyrinthine estate. Household guards and servants bowed respectfully to Primrose, and the two of them were soon joined by Mel and Samson.
“Yo-You’ve been o-out for days, Miss De-Delahaye,” Mel said, eyes fixating on the ground. She hopped from foot to foot anxiously.
“I– I wanted to thank you… For doing w-what you did.”
Delahaye smiled, tussling the elf’s hair with her hand.
“Think nothin’ of it, lass. I was just doin’ what felt right.”
Mel hurriedly fixed her hair, nodding. Samson looked Delahaye over, patting her on the shoulder, before he fell in beside Primrose. With their group reformed, they made the slow return to Primrose’s quarters. When they opened the door, they found that they were not alone.
Standing in the centre of the room was a burly, hawk-faced woman. Her head was shaved, tattooed with the likeness of feathers, which were also present on her exposed forearms. She stood with her arms crossed, peering at the group with eyes Delahaye found familiar. They were, she realised, the same as Lady Hagar’s– black sclera and amber irises. When Primrose spotted the woman, her face lit up.
“Atarah! You’ve returned!”
Atarah nodded, ambling forward. She wore light leather armour, the boots heavier, and equipped with vicious cleats. She opened her arms wide, and after making sure Delahaye could stand upright, Primrose rushed forward to embrace her. It was the most emotion Delahaye had seen from the heiress since she’d met her, at least positive emotion.
She was absently pondering what warranted such a greeting, but received her answer when Atarah pulled Primrose in for a kiss.
Delahaye’s eyebrows rose up so far it appeared as if they were attempting to climb off her face, and she turned to Mel and Samson. The former had her hands over her face, though she had cracked a finger in order to watch, whilst the latter stood, smiling softly. Delahaye inched over, whispering.
“And who exactly is Primrose’s lady love, ‘ere?”
“Atarah Hagar. She is the final member of our team,” Samson replied softly.
“They are an arranged couple, but it turns out they were quite compatible.”
Delahaye nodded, tapping a finger thoughtfully to her chin, “So that’s why she got so uppity when she found me pointin’ my hand cannon at that lady. I was itchin’ to shoot her mother-in-law…”
Samson blinked incredulously at Delahaye, but only sighed, shaking his head.
Delahaye and the others watched as Atarah and Primrose continued to embrace one another. After a handful of uncomfortable moments, Delahaye cleared her throat.
“Well… It’s awfully nice to meet you, Atarah…”
She blinked as the woman appeared before her. Atarah was almost as tall as Delahaye, and was the only person besides Samson who did not have to crane her neck to meet her eye. Grand wings extended from her back, which Delahaye was certain had not been there before. The feathers were dark brown, save for the edges, where they turned an ashen shade of grey. The wings flexed, folding behind Atarah.
“So, you’re the Outworlder my ancestor spoke of…”
Delahaye nodded.
“The name’s Bloody Delahaye.”
Atarah nodded, sticking out a hand, which Delahaye accepted. Her grip was crushing, and Delahaye winced. When she released her, the Outworlder shook her hand, flexing her fingers to check if anything had been broken.
“I hear you’ve caused quite the deal of trouble since you arrived, Outworlder. I hear you picked a fight with House Kenester’s heir.”
Delahaye shrugged, rubbing the back of her head.
“Never did get his name, I’m afraid. The only thing I got acquainted with was his fists,” she said with a wince, once more remembering his fists impacting her face. Delahaye probed her mouth with her tongue, finding that the teeth that had been knocked out had regrown. That was a relief.
“His name is Conroy Kenester, and he’s a prick. So is the rest of his family,” Atarah said, stepping back. “Except for Samira. She’s good people. Shunned by the rest of her family, on account of not being a prick.”
The group found seats, and Samson left to prepare lunch. When he returned, the group busied themselves with idle chat. Delahaye learned that Atarah had been away on a contract, alongside her sisters, Ana and Avigail. The three of them were triplets, and the descendents of Lady Hagar.
House Hagar in the present day was a legacy line. House Primadola were, in fact, descendants of House Hagar, who had ceded control of the city several centuries prior. House Primadola had stepped up, leaving their ancestor house to do as they pleased in the background. Over the years, it had dwindled, and now only consisted of the enigmatic Lady Hagar, who scarcely descended from The House at the Top of the Rock, and the Hagar triplets, Ana, Avigail, and Atarah.
“I’ve got the Roc confluence,” Atarah explained, expanding her wings for emphasis. “My sister Ana has the Firebird confluence, and Avigail has the Thunderbird confluence.”
Delahaye nodded thoughtfully.
“Lots of birds, then. Same for your ancestor, then?”
It was Atarah’s turn to nod.
“Lady Hagar has the Ziz confluence. A ziz is a–”
“Really big flyin’ creature. Blocks out the sun with its wings,” Delahaye interjected. Atarah seemed surprised, but nodded.
“I know of it. It’s a myth where I’m from. But, well, myths are real here, so… I hope I don’t go meetin’ Behemoth, or Leviathan.”
Delahaye chuckled anxiously when Atarah gave her a look that spoke of grave news. Which she promptly gave.
“Lady Hagar has two contemporaries, here in Nefir. Ser Tanith has the Behemoth confluence, and Dame Ashira has the Leviathan confluence. But they haven’t been seen in decades.”
Delahaye sighed, flopping back onto the floor. She picked at her lunch. Samson had prepared sandwiches with fluffy bread and sweet roasted vegetables. Delahaye had been quick to eat as many as she could get her hands on. Only the threat of extreme violence from the normally docile Mel had stayed her hand. As it turned out, when it came to food, the shy elf was far more vicious.
“I need more of these Awakening Stones. I’ve gotta get stronger, that’s what Lady Hagar said,” Delahaye mused between bites.
“Well, there is a month until the next field exam for Adventurer’s Society intake. So, we have a month to train you,” Primrose said, backed up with nods from the others.
“So, we’ll get you some. Then we’re going to break you, Delahaye,” Atarah said, with a savage grin.
“And build you back up better.”
…
Delahaye and Primrose were alone in the heiress’ room, the others having departed as the day wore on. Atarah had gone off to report to the Adventurer’s Society, Mel had been called away due to an incident elsewhere in the estate, and Samson had gone to clean up the dishes. The Outworlder lounged on the floor, and Primrose sat at the edge of her bed.
“Delahaye?” Primrose said quietly, breaking the silence. Delahaye opened one eye.
“Aye?”
Primrose pursed her lips, unsure of whether or not to ask her question. She bunched a handful of cloth from her shirt in her hand, flexing her fingers.
“Who… Who is Eurydice?”
Delahaye’s expression was stricken. Her lips parted, eyes staring off into the middle distance. She did not answer, not for a long time, and Primrose hung her head. Guilt ate away at her insides, and she was worried she had crossed a line. Finally, Delahaye sat up, sighing softly.
When Primrose looked up to meet her eye, she found tears welling in the Outworlder’s, but she blinked them away. Her lips worked silently, trying to gather the words. It took her some time, but she finally did.
“Eurydice Ihejirika…” She began, voice breaking.
“...Eurydice Ihejirika was my First Mate. My right hand. The woman I trusted most. She was also the love of my life,” Delahaye stood, closing her eyes.
“And it’s my fault she’s dead. I’ll say no more on the matter, Primrose. But I’ll leave you with a bit of advice.”
Primrose made to rise, but Delahaye motioned for her to stay.
“You hold your lady love tight, girl. You never let her go, unless what she needs is to go, you understand? Love is a gift, Primrose. But it can also be a prison.”
Delahaye opened the door, stepping out. As she closed the door, she spoke a final time.
“Be her friend, be the damned light of her life, Primrose… But never let yourself become her jailor. Don’t make my mistake.”