“It looks ordinary,” Veida mused, gloved hands holding onto Violet’s outstretched arm, “this is a Mark alright. Only strange part is why half of it is blurred out.”
The laboratory around the two was the actual test centre within the building — a white expanse, with the walls choking on the amount of draws hung upon it. A strange red rock set inside a net hung above the entire expanse, radiating with a faint vermillion that drowned the room in an almost eerie, otherworldly light. Past a table scattered with various equipment for a myriad of purposes that Violet could only darkly speculate upon, glass aquariums bubbled hoarsely. Inside their smelted prisons, bobbled the husks of creatures, in suspended animation. It didn’t take long for Violet to realise that they were tiny, insectile Unbounded; including the weak variety Remus had struggled immensely against. At the end of the row, sat an empty tank. For some reason, Violet was certain that was where the magmite sample would’ve been held, if the things weren’t so hellbent on self-destructing the second you came into close contact.
Violet sat somewhat uncomfortably on a flat, leaning-back chair set in the middle of this chaos, feeling like a test subject herself as Veida examined her eyes.
“Crimson irises,” she commented, “what Divine Rank are you again?”
“Emblazed.” Violet replied nervously. “I’m still awaiting a vision from my patron god.”
She left out the details of just how long she had been waiting.
“Have they only recently bled red then?”
She shook her head. “No. I think I was born this way, or developed it when I was young. Or . . . something.”
Veida noted something down on a winding scroll, quill dipping aggressively into her ink pot.
“It's not unheard of to have bodily changes like that before Emblazed, but it's not exactly common either. Usually, it's a sign of great affinity for your Mark’s area of power, but I’ll keep a record of that just in case it come in use later on.”
She hated to pester Veida, but Violet’s mind was still brimming with an insane amount of inquiries. And, not to insult the researcher’s capabilities, this discussion had merely highlighted her concerns, instead of drawing them closer to resolution.
“Any idea what my Mark depicted? Before this blotch emerged?”
Veida pursed her lips, lightly grasping Violet’s arm in two hands yet again. In a slow, drawn-out motion, as if she were expecting the onset of pain, Violet inspected her Mark at the same time as Veida’s scrutinising eyes did. The sea of indistinct bodies were there as always, with only the lower body of the god of Chaos, Teivel, visible. Violet had seen the god in countless paintings, sculptures, and even in person for a few years, whilst attending the Day of Descension. The god was adorned in a dark, faded blue cloak that seemed forever cursed to whip in the wind, even if the breeze was mild. Their face was permanently set in a freakishly wide rictus, and a pointed hat sat comfortably on the crest of his head. The deity didn’t have eyes, or if he did, Teviel kept them draped behind a river of inky darkness that covered his upper face, not unlike the infuriating blotch disguising two thirds of her Mark. Violet stared at the murky scene, as if expecting it to reveal its many mysteries if she simply glared at it long enough.
For some odd reason, almost as if she couldn’t just rework the universe to suit her, the Mark remained firmly unfazed.
Veida appeared to be having similar trouble. “As much as I’d like to understand the composition of your Mark, I cannot say. But what side this swarm of corpses belonged to could change its meaning entirely.”
Violet raised an eyebrow. “How so?”
“Well, they're just indistinct enough — purposely left as only vague shapes — so that their species cannot be confirmed. Were these Unbounded as you might originally expect, or human soldiers? The answer might very well throw our perception of it upside down.”
“But why would Teviel kill humans? He can’t, without just reason, at least.. That goes against the Righteous Oath. Only other humans can kill humans, not gods. Unless they’re punishing a mortal, of course.”
Veida nodded along. “Yes, yes, but . . . nevermind, it's too soon to jump to conclusions. But thank you for telling me all of this. It was a very brave thing to do.”
A ruddy complexion reigned supreme over Violet’s cheeks, as she refrained from shifting gawkily. “Thank you. It's such a relief for these suspicions to be taken off of my chest . . . for a while back there, I thought I was slowly going insane.”
“That’s still to be decided yet,” the woman smirked, before her face succumbed to a look of sudden remembrance. “Oh right! I do believe this investigation may last longer than your stay in our humble camp will. If you wouldn’t mind, may I interest you in Pippin?”
“Pippin?”
Veida extended an arm to her side, and, as if on cue, a hazel sparrow ruffled its feathers, squatting down on her arm in an elegant landing. “He’s a messenger bird. He’ll be another tiny mouth to feed on your travels, but you can send letters to me whenever you want with Pippin’s help. Primarily if you encounter another revelation that could help in our investigation. But, if it's too much, you can refuse.”
“I’ll take good care of him.” Violet smirked. “Thank you. It's just one surprise after another with you and Hadrian; it's almost like I should be sceptical. Not to be accusatory, but what’s the real reason you’re doing all of this?”
She shrugged. “At first? Boredom, and clan obligation. You don’t get many tourists in our territory, and those that do visit are always gone within the day. There’s also the ancient rite your friend called upon — I can’t exactly ignore an agreement between gods.” Her voice became lighter. “But now, if I’m being honest, it's out of curiosity. If you’re right, this could be the biggest thing the Unbounded have achieved since their first appearance. It's enough to send a tremble down my spine.”
The woman looked down to Pippin, whose eyes had been suffering from a series of rapid blinks. There was one last yawn of sorts to escape the bird’s tiny throat, and an intense feeling of lethargy eradicated any alertness left in him. He had fallen asleep.
“Despite what the Infirnite’s glow over us might tell you, it's getting awfully late. Now, let's head to dinner, shall we? We can’t have Hadrian’s trainees steal all the food before we even get there.”
Violet rolled her head back and laughed. “Let’s!”
----------------------------------------
Of course, Remus had lost the second round of his bout in spectacular fashion. Though, he himself wouldn’t have been able to tell you that, for his head had ached too intensely at the time to register anything other than the pain. By some insane feat of luck, he hadn’t actually passed out, which was more than what could’ve been said about his encounter with Edmar. It did occur to Remus, mulling this all over at he Flame Sect’s dining tables, that remaining conscious whilst being helplessly beaten down was probably not an achievement, but Remus would gratefully embrace any improvement he could. He had to work himself to the bone for every last one.
He was sitting in the middle of the three rectangular tables he had spotted upon entry of the camp, an absolute feast of food and refreshments before him. Plates stacked with mountain’s worth of meat somehow avoided tumbling off the table; trays of fruits both familiar and exotic were laid out in ornate patterns, and Remus’ sympathies went out to the efforts of the servers, for the platters would soon be destroyed. Rice, grains, whole loaves of bread, cream, honey, noodles, fish and so, so much more. Remus’ only concern was what he would tackle first in his glutinous onslaught.
As esteemed guests, he and Violet were seated next to Hadrian and Veida respectively, on either side of the table. Hadrian seemed to be saying something to him, but through his mouthful of food, it came out as a string of unintelligible muffles.
“Pardon?” He asked, preoccupied with slamming as much salmon as he could into his mouth.
The Mercenary took a forceful swallow. “Enjoying the food?”
“Of course.”
All around them, filling up virtually every seat, tens upon tens of trainees ate and drank to their hearts’ contents. Remus couldn’t help but smile. The air was so jubilant, and after spending years merely passively keeping to his own sect, he felt a part of something. His only worry, whilst a minor one, was Tanguy. He had seemed so outraged from only one minor scrap of the knuckles, but was he really, even now, in this jovial environment, holding a grudge against him? Perhaps the mere thought of an Engorged — or Death-Marked, whatever the boy viewed him as — even being able to touch him disgusted Tanguy, to the extent that he would forever be repulsed at Remus’ very existence.
This narrative has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. If you see it on Amazon, please report it.
Remus shook his head frantically, dispelling such depressing thoughts before they could ruin his merry mood. Tanguy was seated on a table behind Remus, and in the corner of his eye, he could see the Emblazed chewing away like it was nobody’s business. For now at least, Tanguy appeared fully unbothered by the last hour’s events, so why should Remus let them sap away at this moment of happiness?
Turning his attention to people who likely didn’t feel the need to bruise his forehead to oblivion, Remus eyed Violet and Veida laughing loudly amongst one another. Since meeting, the two had become unbelievably close in such a short time frame. Whatever it was they spent so long discussing together in quiet corners, Remus hadn’t the slightest, but whatever it was must have been riveting, with how intensely they spoke about it. Before his mind could even begin to speculate on what that elusive topic could be, he noticed a bird pecking away at Violet's plate. Apparently Violet knew the creature, because she didn’t seem bothered by this, but Remus had never known the girl to keep pets.
“So what do you think of our training regiment?” Hadrian perked up conversation, after adequately eliminating a tower of dishes.
“Gruelling.” Replied Remus. “But I’m glad it is.”
“That’s the spirit, that is,” Hadrian murmured, an adventurous hand crawling towards a slab of peppers, “but I must warn you, today was a skipped over version of our usual routine. Time-constraints, you see.”
Remus very nearly spat tea all over a whole roasted chicken. Herbal water would have been a very strange marination for the meat indeed. “It was?”
“Indeed. We normally have a sprint around the camp for a few laps, and two more holds before we test the trainees’ Marks in that Inferno you witnessed earlier.”
Remus considered this between bites of potato. “So . . . that’s five holds, a multiple-lap sprint, and the bouts?”
“What? Is that not enough for you? I mean there’s always extracurricular-”
Shaking hands flying up, Remus almost scrambled out of his seat. “No! No! Anymore, and I won’t get ample recovery.”
That may or may not have been a lie. Remus wasn’t exactly certain on what the full extent of an Engorged’s healing factor was — the process of testing such a thing wasn’t the most appealing of prospects, to say the least. He had recovered from a death-defying height only after a few days of rest and recovery, so perhaps it was possible. Still, Remus was certain that he had enough on his plate already, both literally and figuratively. There was no need to push his body to breaking point, if it would only put his first trial in jeopardy.
“Ah, understandable. I’m sure the standard regime alone will be enough to push someone of your Rank to their physical limits, no offence.”
“None taken.”
There was a comfortable silence, where neither of them muttered a word — instead, wordlessly agreeing to stuff their own weight’s worth in food into their bodies first, before conversation may once again, after some reluctance to turn away from the grub, be approached.
“I know you were lying.” Hadrian eventually said, looking quite uncomfortable.
That was quite the bombshell. Some may even argue a little too intense for a conversation starter.
Remus was definitely one of those people. “What?” He bursted out, choking on some juice vaguely reminiscent of winter berries.
“Violet spoke to Veida about private matters I’m not ought to be the one to tell you about. That’s for the girl to reveal out of her own violation.” Hadrian said soberly, contrary to the vast collection of empty tankards before him, gathered in a semi-circle, as if in the midst of a mothers’ meeting consisting of inanimate objects. “Amid this discussion, they revealed your rather unfavourable status.”
Remus was sweating bullets. All the liquid he had consumed now seemed to have taken the memo to leave his body immediately, with no notice. “Apologies for not telling you earlier. I suppose this complicates our relationship somewhat.”
“That it does,” Hadrian swirled an empty cup between two fingers. “Or it should, if I let it. But I like you Remus, I admire your determination and steel in the face of difficulty. Plus, I did a little snooping through your personal history, and I’m less appalled than I am impressed.”
“History?”
The man waved a hand to the side, like it didn’t matter. “I just nagged Veida for what Violet had revealed. If your crimes were too severe, we wouldn’t risk playing dumb and housing you for the time being. But petty theft, provoking combat with an authority figure, and breaking out of prison are-” Hadrian rubbed his stubble, as if re-mulling things over. “Okay, that actually does sound pretty substantial when said aloud, but many have done worse in their lifetimes. Plus, you could scratch that fight off as a consenting duel if you pushed hard enough in court.”
He scoffed. “The same courts that are funded in large part by the same people I wronged.”
“Ah, good point,” Hadrian took another sip. “But you have noble intentions, indeed? You’re doing all of this for your sect’s benefit, if I’m not mistaken?”
Remus’ fist tightened. “Yes. I’d like to help others after, but everything’s stacked against the Carpentry Clan. Dragging them out of this mess will be a grand challenge in itself.”
Nodding, Hadrian poured himself what must have been his twentieth drink of the night. Or, Remus thought he had, seconds before the Mercenary pushed the glass to his side of the table. “Take it. You deserve a drink after standing up to that corrupt system. Drink your head off tonight, for tomorrow morning heralds the most gruelling Passing of your life. ”
Grabbing the glass, Remus allowed himself a hearty smile. “It better be.”
----------------------------------------
The carriage rolled by dull hill after dull hill in the most bland looking stretch of land Elmore had ever witnessed.
He was seated quite comfortably in the lavish interior of a mobile carriage, striding along at a comfortable, but swift pace along the most flat highlands he could ever recall witnessing. Before him, sat his two cousins, and in his mind’s privacy, he couldn’t help but think of them as polar opposites.
Ash was gangly, the little muscle he did suit more of an accident than the result of continuous training, and by the way he was leaning to the side on the perch of his hand, eyelids drooping before flickering momentarily open every few seconds, thoroughly bored out of mind. His brother Koa, whilst similar in several other aspects, appeared fully immersed in a deep reverie of thought that would only be broken occasionally to shoot a pensive look Elmore’s way. Upon turning his head to meet these gazes, the boy would grow flustered, and quickly act as if he had been sightseeing through the windows the entire time. Koa and Ash weren’t too dissimilar appearance-wise, but they held such differing airs about them, that were the primary cause of the great contrast separating the two apart. It was enough to give Elmore whiplash, if people could.
Elmore didn’t know what to think of Koa in particular. They’d barely ever met apart from at extravagant family gatherings, where they would at most exchange an obligatory greeting, before quickly retreating to opposing sides of the room. He didn’t harbour any ill will to the boy, but if he was anything like his brother . . .
Gods above, Elmore didn’t enjoy holding a disliking for his own flesh and blood, but Ash’s waste of such abundant resources was enough to send him insane. And some people, despite the boy’s lack of ever committing himself to any task set before him, still viewed his slacking cousin as material for a sect leader. What, just because he had somehow achieved Emblazed in his sleep, Ash was automatically a better contender, simply because he had climbed the Ranks younger? All it would take for all of Elmore’s work — the very same training that had consumed all the moments chinking together to make up his life — to be cast to the flame. Gone in a blink, with his cousin none-the-wiser.
Was he letting childish, somewhat selfish fears get the better of him? Maybe, but he couldn’t muster the will, or want, not to succumb to such thoughts.
“We’re here.” A voice called from the front of the vehicle. “I can’t travel much more than this, it's too dangerous, I’m afraid.”
Elmore peered out of the window, or the blank space forming a square in the carriage wall. Pulling the curtain fully aside, the image of a murky abyss of trees, brown waters, and thriving weeds was blazed into his retinas. In other words, they had reached the Seventh Territory, that of the Reptilian Clan. It was the most direct territory one could reach if making a beeline from First Rite to the neighbouring city. It was the most likely path their targets would have taken, and with no other leads, Elmore had no other obvious option but to search here first. Nevertheless, it would still be a considerable stretch of land until they caught sight of the Reptilian clan itself, or perhaps the other, sister Amphibian Sect that was attached to it as an arm is to its socket.
“Must we stop here? You would be saving us quite the walk if you would continue. I’m willing to pay, if necessary.”
Ash mumbled unintelligible, before jolting awake with a shrill cry. “What-! Are . . . are we here?”
Elmore expelled his complaints at his cousin in a drawn-out huff, arms crossed firmly. It was becoming increasingly difficult to not simply speak his mind to the boy.
“Apologies, but the fellas back at the clan would kill me if I returned with a bashed up carriage. Unbounded are far too prominent in Hybrid, not to mention multiple enemy clans. I wish you safe travels, but I can’t go ahead.”
Elmore bit his lips tightly, containing his bad mood as best he could. Why had he been so infuriated on this trip? He should be as happy as can be at the honour of fulfilling a request from Juniper; he should barely be able to keep his facial muscles from aching, after smiling to an absurd extent. So why then, did every little thing seem to irritate him to no end?
“Ash, Koa, we’re leaving.” He finally heard himself saying, grabbing his luggage from a compartment beneath his feet. “We may be travelling for a while, so make sure you don’t leave anything. It's not unlikely that we’ll have to live off these supplies for quite some time. And, Koa, at any point in the day, if Ash falls asleep, do me a favour and wake him the hell up, would you? I don’t mind if you have to splash water over him, we can't afford to waste time when those criminals might be gaining distance on us, as we speak.”
At first, Koa gave him a look that read as confusion as whether he was joking or not. The drowsing form of Ash answered that question for him, and he swiftly nodded.
The carriage soon departed, and the group, including a just-about conscious Ash, frowned at their fresh environs. The Speed Clan carriage had escorted them all the way here in the course of a Duration, which Elmore suspected to be substantially faster than their prey. Nevertheless, their going would be reaching a sharp decline from this point out.
Please just be nestled up in the Reptilian base, he droned to himself, this will be so much easier if they are.
Elmore took a heavy breath, face-to-face to the territory that they’d be venturing across for however long. For some reason, he felt nothing but dread.
Koa was evidently feeling much the same way. “You ready?”
Wiping his emerald cloak down, Elmore nodded, surprised to hear his cousin talk for once. Despite not having seen much of his family for years, including his own brother, the boy had abstained from saying anything other than an awkward greeting, and a quick, private chat with Ash that Elmore was able to sense the tense air of, just as a bystander.
“Yeah,” he eventually said, taking his first step into Hybrid land, “I’m ready.”