Violet woke with a start, jolting upwards with a back terribly sore from leaning against a chair all night. Her makeshift cushion was the now compressed pages of one of Veida’s journals, listing various details about Unbounded, and all their heavenly terror. Light crept in from the glass curve situated above, and rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, a dark realisation struck Violet like a pile of bricks.
Today was the day Cyrus would arrive; more likely than not, the day Remus would be plunging into the depths of the Infernal bays. Either to emerge victorious, or not at all.
And of course, as consequence for staying up every day into the dead of night, until her eyes and brain ached from endless hours of trying to get to the bottom of her Unbounded conundrum, her sleeping schedule had deteriorated severely. For all she knew, it could be approaching midday, with Remus and his party of escorts already gone.
With that terrifying thought, Violet scrambled up, didn’t bother to do any more than clumsily put on a change of clothes from her personal supplies, and rushed down the stairs in a mad clamber. She found Veida sipping lightly at a steaming cup of herbal tea, laughing at her hurried pace in the middle of a neat kitchen.
“You mustn't worry, dear.” She began, offering her a seat, “You’re not late, I would have woken you otherwise. We still have a good few hours until our sect leader arrives.”
Violet let out a sigh of relief. “Nevertheless, I should better get going. Remus is likely doing his last preparations before embarking out.”
Veida nodded. “Sounds sensible. But get properly ready first, there’s no rush.”
As much as she wanted to fly out of the front door immediately, Violet heeded the woman and retraced her steps back upstairs. As she got washed, and neatened down her leather outfit — which was the extent of her taste in fashion — her worries for the day ahead never settled. Durations had passed scarily quick, and she had seen practically nothing of her bald companion, aside from his trips to the infirmary after several particularly gruesome duels. They conversed during meal times of course, but even that was sparse. Both of them were so hyper-fixated on their own goals and commitments, that in a way, they’d forgotten to socialise with each other. Which was jarring, when during a Passing of travel together, she was sick with the sight of his constant presence.
And now, her time left knowing him might just be cut short. Violet punched the water amounting in the sink before her, sending droplets of cold water splattering across her cheeks. No, Remus has been training for this like a madman since first stepping foot here, all under the supervision of a Mercenary. He will succeed. But still, as much as she hated to admit it, her doubts persisted. Nine whole days trapped in a humid, expansive cavern choking to the brim with malevolent Unbounded, and crystal debris jutting out to cut him at every turn.
Violet didn’t fancy her own odds of survival, if it were her in his place. Depressing thoughts left to the wayside, she departed not half an hour later, zipping through the door after a brisk farewell to Veida.
Despite the occasion, it wasn’t exactly a sunny day — a convergence of grey storm clouds painted the skies a dull shade, with the foreboding promise of a downpour scheduled for whenever nature willed it. Everybody was up and about, and that did not exclude the trainees, who, after training was cancelled for the day, were spared from spending the morning hours grunting and working up a sweat. In the centre of a crowd, not too far from the camp’s entrance, Violet eyed the top of a carriage sticking out. It didn’t take much mental deliberation to work out what the gathering had congregated for, even if she couldn’t directly spot the man who was the focus of a whole camp’s worth of eyes.
Stepping closer, her anticipation strengthening with every suspenseful step, Violet finally saw the famed sect leader: Cyrus.
It was quite apparent that Veida was either horrible with her timings, or the Flame Sect leader had arrived earlier than expected. Unlike many of a God-Graced or higher’s power, Cyrus sacrificed size for a more well-rounded lean look, his steel armour failing to conceal his muscle in several places where the plating didn’t extend to. Namely, his right arm, where a bundle of thorns wrapped tightly against his flesh, to what looked like a painful degree. Violet suspected the portable death-trap had something to do with the abilities God-Graced allocated, though she wasn’t knowledgeable enough on the subject to garner any other information on it but that. His smile and outward mirth at reuniting with his people discredited the assumption that the thorny plantage may be a health-hazard entirely, and much due to his buzz-cut, he fitted in with his clan better than most sect leaders did. Slowly but surely, Violet stepped closer, ignoring the steady hum of hushed whisperings resounding around her.
It was only after finally ripping her eyes off of the new arrival that she noticed who he was talking to. A familiar face who had been her primary cause of worry all morning.
Remus looked as he always did, or at least a tad bit more scruffy. His hair had grown back somewhat over the Passing, but it was not nearly enough to make up for what had been lost. Violet had been forced to contain a snicker the first time she had laid eyes upon his bald, glum face, but the minimalist look did somewhat suit him, if she was feeling particularly nice on any specific day to admit so.
Hadrian was at Remus’ side, holding onto his shoulders like a proud father. The Splintered Rank had evidently made it his goal to turn Remus into a little summer project — whatever the season was, Violet had been cooped up too long studying dusty scrolls to properly tell — as you could never catch the two apart. The three were talking fervently, before the Mercency finally laid eyes on her.
“Ah, just who I was mentioning. This is Violet. She’s currently studying under Veida.”
Feeling compelled, Violet strolled up awkwardly to Cyrus. Other than her father, she had rarely been this up close and personal with someone nearing the height of this realm’s power. Suffice to say, as she confronted the sect leader’s kind eyes, only now noticing the irises to be of imposing shades of stark ruby and sapphire, she didn’t quite know how to act. Many sect-leaders were treated like royalty, or literally were monarchs in their own right. But Cyrus didn’t read like he bothered with all that; he was a man who was clearly very down to earth, and preferred to get matters done and dusted with, without all the hassle of superficial status.
“Greetings,” he spoke, voice not verging specially high or low in any specific vocal range, “I do hope that you have been treated with grace in our humble camp. But with Hadrian and Veida overseeing you, I can trust that you have received amply warm welcomes, correct?”
“Without doubt,” she quickly answered, trying to match his polite tone, “I hope your travels have treated you well.”
He nodded. “Thank you, and that they have. The Descension, on the other hand . . .“ His entire body sank down in a sigh. “Excuse my bluntness, but I found it an astronomical bore.”
Violet wasn’t certain on how she was supposed to react to this, some paranoid section of her mind afraid that she’d be incinerated if she made one false move. Everyone else, on the other hand, were of a jovial air so comfortable, she couldn’t understand how they weren’t fearing for their lives. Even Remus, who had exchanged a brief grin to Violet upon her arrival, seemed as calm as he could ever be. Too calm.
Holding all this line of thought deep within her, Violet jumped on the bandwagon, and forced out a few reserved laughs.
“So, back to business,” Cyrus said, focusing his attention on Remus, “your travelling companion here has called upon the oath my god, Ashbel, made to the god of Ambition, Tanish, before any of our great great grandfathers were born. According to the legends, Tanish saved Ashbel’s life, and his saviour’s only request as a reward was for us to toss his potential followers into a riddling cave system for days on end. And that, despite my doubts on if the Ambition Sect hasn’t been completely eradicated, excuse my cynicism, is exactly what we’ll do.”
In an action so abrupt, Violet couldn’t believe her eyes, Remus bowed deeply, his body almost forming an acute angle as his waist and up curved down. “Thank you for your generosity, Cyrus. I find it beyond commendable that you still abide by promises made millenia ago, whereas others in your position may toss them under the rug, as inconveniences.”
Cyrus smiled. He evidently enjoyed indulging in a little buttering-up every now and again. “Please Remus, you flatter me. Though you can’t give me too much credit, I can’t exactly ignore an oath, even if I was inclined to.” He clapped his hands, as if finally getting into matters. “Back on topic, our chefs have already prepared your supplies and rations for when we arrive at the Infernal Bays. If we’re quick, we should arrive at the crack of dawn to commence the Earnest Trials as fast as possible. You must have waited patiently for a long stretch of time, and for that, I hope you’ll forgive me.”
Stolen from Royal Road, this story should be reported if encountered on Amazon.
Remus shook his hands to the side desperately, as if he’d made some grave mistake. “No, no! It's been no trouble at all — quite the rewarding experience actually. I should be apologising to you for eating up your clan’s time and resources.”
The two consequently began a sucking-up contest that made Violet want to puke. She tuned out the following back and forth that seemed to last a lifetime, only to pay attention once more when their expressions grew serious.
Cyrus swivelled round to face a travelling party, all armed with spears and light armour as if heading off for war. It was less than a fifth of the camp — about eight trainees in their last years under the overseeing eyes of Hadrian and Veida — and yet still were somehow terrifically imposing. In the admittedly minor task-at-hand, to the wider Flame Sect, at least, they would do perfectly.
“Report to Hadrian and Veida when you wish to depart Remus,” the sect-leader’s shaved head turned over a shoulder to face Violet, “and will you be coming also? If not, we’d be happy to look af-”
“I’m coming.” Violet blurted defiantly, before immediately slamming both hands over her mouth, as she realised that she’d just interrupted a God-Graced mid-sentence. She might as well have set several temples on fire while singing pleas for the gods' doom.
Cyrus only grinned wider. It was a peculiar quirk of beings of such power — they either beamed constantly, developing the strongest facial muscles known to mankind, or didn’t let their lips twitch at all.
“It's good to have supportive companions. You’ll find that at the worst of times, they’re all that really matters.”
Remus gave the go-ahead to begin the journey, obviously anxious to get moving as quickly as possible. Soon, after Cyrus saw them off at the camp’s boundaries, before returning to whatever work occupies a sect leader, they left the remains of an obsidian castle at a swift stride. The formation of the party was Hadrian at its front, Veida at its back, and the squadron of guards gathered around Remus and her. It was obvious to see who they thought would be the most at danger.
Unlike times past, they didn’t have to worry about abundant magmite exploding in their unsuspecting faces, as Violet and Remus had almost made it a game of who-could-return-with-the-most-dead. The beasts were hard to kill when you weren’t immune to fire, and Remus had gotten the short end of the stick, having to combat the destructive insects while being stuck at Engorged. How he managed to slaughter so many without burning to death was beyond her. In fact, it seemed such an impossibility, that Violet was beginning to suspect he was lying.
To extinguish the awkward barrier between them that had manifested after Durations of limited conversations, consisting solely of arbitrary small talk and flaunting Unbounded kill-counts, she addressed her scepticism directly to him.
“Come on, there’s no way that you could have cleared out so many of the things, with solely your physical strength. You can’t exactly punch them to death without receiving a face full of molten lava. Or losing a limb.”
“Oh that?” Remus replied, looking distracted. “I ran.”
“You . . . ran?”
“Uh-huh.”
Violet stopped dead in her tracks, receiving a few perplexed glances from their guards. “What do you mean you ran?”
“The magma flies’ only real way of harming you, aside from biting or clawing away at your skin, is to implode. Draw out the fight long enough, and they’ll erupt in a last ditch effort to finish you off. Kinda like how a bee dies after stinging you, just a lot more deadlier.”
If there were ever an unconventional method to dispose of your foes, that would be it. Violet voiced this opinion, only to be laughed off by Remus.
“We made a promise that we’d help out with the Unbounded swarms around the territory, and I had to hold up my side of it, by any means necessary. Plus, extra cardio can never hurt.”
“Yeah,” Violet murmured, “nothing like fleeing for your life as exercise motivation.”
The pair chuckled, in a fashion that felt distinctly too casual for the foreboding air, choking them both in a tighter grip with every step they took. They were tiptoeing lightly around a gaping abyss in the conversation, whose ominous presence could never be wholly ignored. Taking a steady breath, Violet took the plunge.
“How are you feeling?”
She didn’t have to specify what she meant. “Fine.”
“Really?”
Remus visibly gulped. “Okay, maybe a little frightened, just a tad. Or a lot.”
The camp was but a blip in the far distance now, a barely perceivable silhouette on the verge of disappearing entirely. Their environment hadn’t altered too much, the same standard barren wasteland devoid of any depth of colour stretching out for miles all around. These lands knew not of moisture, nor of the colour spectrum, save a few select pigments of brown, yellow, and an orangey black. They were crossing by a route avoiding the lava rivers as far as it was possible, and as faint blurs of radiance on the horizon, these could just be made out.
“Well, of course you’re frightened,” Violet did her best to reassure Remus, who didn’t bother now to limit his wincing expression from surfacing. “But you’ve trained for this as hard as you can. If there’s ever a chance you'll succeed, it’ll be now.”
“But what if I haven’t trained hard enough? Maybe I prioritised sleeping too much, I could have spent a few more hours running, or practising spars with the other trainees, or, I don’t know, something instead of lazing around in bed.”
The tension dripped from his words.
“You oaf!” Violet had to refrain from slapping the clueless child. “You have to recover Remus, you can’t just work yourself into a hole. You trained enough, probably a little too much. You can do this. If you didn’t think you were able to, you wouldn’t have set out in the first place, robbing markets and vaulting out of prisons. Don’t let all those hours of effort be put to waste. Focus.”
He was silent for a moment, as if mulling her words over. The rigidness of his face didn’t wholly fade, but it did relax somewhat. “Yeah,” Remus took a deep breath. “Of course. You’re right. I can do this.”
Traversing over rocky fissure after rocky fissure, arising over a sort of natural wall formed from an upwards curve of igneous, the two engaged in a light, comfortable chat, free from the chains of unease and fully delighting in its unimportance.
“Why exactly have you become so interested in Unbounded lately anyway?” Remus asked a few hours later, miles of land passed by without so much as a feather ruffled. “You never showed any interest before.”
“Oh, that!” Violet bursted out, not expecting a topic so closely focused around her myriad of secrets. “It's a . . . long story.”
Despite having known Remus far longer than Veida — or at least, that Passing travelling to Hybrid had been such a slog that it felt that way — Violet had never addressed her familial suspicions directly to Remus. Sure, after that argument before, she had revealed her conflicts with the Chaos Clan openly, and the fact that she had a hunch that not all was as it seemed. Still, the admittedly far-fetched theory of her family being taken over by doppelgangers hadn’t yet graced Remus’ uninitiated eardrums. For better, or for worse.
It was personal after all, and she’d only fully believed the theory herself after much consulting with Veida, involving many heartfelt conversations. She hadn’t been trying to hide it, at least not with active purpose or intent. The boy had simply been so fixated on his training with Hadrian, she hadn’t had ample chance to fill his ears full of wild conspiracy theories. Around the dinner table wasn’t exactly a prime opportunity to deliver something so heavy.
There was a painful second where the two simply stared at one another, neither making a move to speak. The tension was so tangible, so material, that it was daunting to merely play with the prospect of shattering the wall between them.
Perhaps it was time to tell him. Hell, he’d taken the courtesy of revealing every detail of his own backstory so thoroughly, that Violet could have written a biography on his life, and likely do a half-decent job of it. Ah, if it meant erasing the awkwardness of this moment, why not?
“This might sound bizarre,” she began without preamble, “but I actually . . .”
And so she told him. Remus didn’t say a word throughout the entire explanation, face gaunt and serious. She couldn’t tell if that haggard look was because the nerves were making him feel sickly, or if it were a byproduct of his vast attentiveness. Either way, when she finished speaking, admittedly feeling a tinge of self-consciousness, he didn’t try to pick apart the theory. Instead, he rubbed his chin, a thoughtful look in his eyes.
“Unbounded taking over an entire clan . . . “ He shivered. “Now that’s scary. And I thought meeting an Unbounded that could talk would be dreadful enough.”
Thankfully, the pair of them had been conversing in hushed tones. Otherwise, Remus might have been the receiver of quite a few odd expressions from the rest of the travelling party.
“So, do you think it's possible? I’m not losing it?”
Remus shrugged. “Who can say? Nevertheless, after you sacrificed so much dragging me all the way here, I’ll fight a sect full of frenzied Unbounded alongside you, if it ever comes to that. Though I must admit, the prospect isn’t exactly appealing.”
A burst of warmth spread like wildfire through Violet. At least she had someone to rely on now; that comfort at least, she had to her name.
“I can’t imagine you tackling my father head-on in battle. That’s a bold promise to make, to say that you’ll go against someone of a God-Graced’s power.”
“Eh, I was planning on taking down someone of a similar Rank later on down the road. Two won’t hurt, in that case.”
Staring at Remus, keeping her face devoid of any emotion, Violet didn’t say a thing for a drawn out, steely second. “Are you joking?”
Remus turned to her, grinning slyly with infuriating poise. “I don’t know . . . am I?”
The stare-down continued, before neither of its participants could keep a straight face any longer. Bursting out into infectious laughter, both Violet and Remus clutched at their stomachs, without a doubt appearing insane to everyone else present. Wiping a tear from her eye, Violet reflected on how nice it was for things to get back to normal.
If only she could have seen the future laid out before her. Perhaps then, Violet wouldn’t have been quite so cheery.