Infirmaries never differed much. Whether that was a comfort or not, Violet couldn’t decide.
Remus had fallen victim to a brief bout of hyperthermia. He would break out into shivers every other minute, and yet he was too exhausted to use his own flames to warm him. Instead, Violet and the medics who definitely weren't trained, prepared candles around the place. Which might have become a fire-hazard, had the tent been any smaller.
At least Remus got to recover with an array of fragrances at hand.
He was conscious no doubt, but fell into log bouts of sleeping for hours at a time. Violet sat by his side, catching up on some reading material from Veida. Currently, she was informing herself on all the harm the fifth Right-bearer, Belindo, had caused. The great winged reptile had levelled hamlets, been the root cause of more than one natural disaster with his element manipulation, and was hardly none to mutter a word. He seemed to be the sort of being that annihilated everything in sight first, and spoke later.
She was presently reading over a passage detailing the exact powers his Divine Right bestowed. Everything from levelling mountains, stirring tsunamis, and breathing fire when not inciting tornadoes. Compared to Milap, he seemed far more dangerous. That was until she recalled everything that had sprang from the late Unbounded’s abilities. From the takeover of her clan, to inserting Nova into a position of vast political power. And it seemed to Violet that Belindo only appeared every few Passings. Which wasn’t too odd for a Right-Bearer ninety-nine percent of the time, but considering this grand push the remaining four were making, posed interesting possibilities. Was it that his Right, so destructive as it was, required a proportional amount of rest? Possibility, but where-
It was only then that she noticed Remus was awake. In fact, despite the deep eyebags, he’d clearly recovered enough power to activate his Mark.
“Are you okay?” She asked. After their bout, Violet had searched out Lumi, teleporting her as far away as possible from the outpost. She didn’t offer up much resistance, seeing how drained she was from Remus’ fight — however that went. Half the match had been obscured by fog. Violet had even seen a few spectators grumbling to themselves and walking out.
The sight of Lumi’s charred body almost made Violet feel bad. Especially when she sent the Frost assassin to a field in the middle of nowhere. Nevertheless, it wouldn’t do either of them any good to leave her in nearby range. Lumi had come far too close to killing Remus the first time around. With even more fuel to facilitate her thirst for revenge, Remus might not get so lucky a second time.
“I’m fine, thank you.” Remus assured her, though his hoarse voice and blanched complexion didn’t convince her. “I’m using Flaming Gold to warm myself up. Hopefully, it will hasten the recovery.”
Violet got the distinct impression he wanted to say more. Like a curse, or a word of complaint was constantly dancing atop his tongue. He never said anything though.
“Be careful. You don’t want to overuse the ability and hurt yourself.”
“I know, I know. Leave it to me, I can use the ability pretty well now. Plus, recovery is a lot less demanding than-”
“Than pushing yourself past your bodily limit in the midst of battle?”
“Yeah,” he grunted. “That.”
It was early afternoon, the sun still high in the sky overhead, though not much of it got through the tent’s cloth. Finally, when silence became overbearing, Violet addressed Remus. “What’s on your mind?”
He scoffed, before clamping his mouth shut.
“What is it?”
“Nothing.”
“Clearly not-”
“Please.” He exhaled. “I don’t want to wallow in self-pity. Isn’t it obvious anyway what’s on my mind?”
Violet went blank. This clearly must have shown on her face, for Remus sprang into explanation.
“I lost the bout. We’re not heading to the front lines anytime soon. We’re stuck here.”
It was Violet’s turn to go as quiet as stone. “Are you sure-?”
“Certain.” Remus said stiffly. “This is a tournament, remember? The last few winners win the prize of escort into the front lines, and fraudulent soldier identification. I didn’t get to the end of my line of bouts. I didn’t win that chance; didn’t earn it.”
“You would have won, if not for Lumi entering with the sole intent of screwing you over.”
Remus was doing a very good job of keeping himself together. The only hint that something was deeply wrong, was the tremulous way he held his fists.
“Like the Judges will care about that. I didn’t win, so we don't go. Full stop.” He sighed. “Not until whenever the next official bouts start.”
The silence, an encompassing evil with an undying love for ruining the mood, reared its ugly face once more. They both stared defeatedly at the walls of the tent.
“When you recover, we can train in the Silver Cavities again.” Violet spoke up. “I think you’re ready to go deeper.”
“Yay.” Remus said, one word stuffed full of sarcasm. Yet, in a kind of paradox, Violet could sense the excitement bubbling underneath. Giving Remus another opportunity to train was like dangling a carrot before a pig. Despite his momentary illness, and the crushing defeat, Violet knew he would be down in those caves yet again, ready to give it another shot.
“Thanks.” He said through gritted teeth. “I’m sorry I slowed us down. I'll do better next time. I promise.”
“Remus.” Violet dragged out his name. “You have nothing to be sorry for. I had you following after me for durations on end. It's only right I do the same for you — plus, it isn’t like I’m not benefitting from being here. Training is going rather well.”
It was true. Violet had now learnt how to forge all kinds of armour pieces from Supreme Steel. From gauntlets, to vambraces, and the ever difficult chestplate. The tricky part was how she was going to craft the armour in the midst of battle, ready on her. Then Violet would also have to hold a secondhand knowledge on armour so intricate, that repairing the separate pieces would come as easy as breathing. Otherwise, she would become so distracted in battle, that it wouldn’t even be worth it.
Remus nodded at her response. Then the silence became a different kind. The welcomed variety; warm and fuzzy and not at all triggering existential crises. Of course, this too was short lived.
The Infirmary flap was opened so aggressively, Violet half expected it to bang.
A man pushed his head through. Violet could tell he was of wiry build from the upper body that poked out. “Come on. It's time to leave.”
Violet didn’t often get angry, but more so wrestled with other emotions; those of the apprehensive variety. What that said about her, she wasn’t entirely sure, though if there was anything for certain, rushing a patient through recovery was nonsense.
“He’s recovering. I know you may have other patients arriving, but if that’s the case you really should invest in more healthcare-”
They raised an eyebrow. “Listen lady, I don’t know what your deal is, but-”
“Let the poor man rest for the gods’ sake!”
Remus raised a placating hand. “It's alright Violet. Thank you. I’m well enough to leave this place, at any rate.”
True to his word, Remus got out of his makeshift bed, and made for the exit. When he was teetering on the entrance, the stranger placed a hand on his shoulder. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea. I haven’t come here because of anything to do with other patients coming.”
Remus narrowed his eyes. “You haven’t? Have you come to kill me then? Or to collect long overdue taxes?”
They blinked. “Why would I?”
“No reason.”
He sighed. “I’m taking you to the operation team. They’re having their first meeting now, so come on.”
Remus looked affronted. “Operation team?”
The blood rushed to the stranger’s face, the kind of expression pulled when talking to a colossal idiot. “You scored high enough in the tournament for the last spot, or did you get amnesia from that last fight? Go if you want, I can’t be bothered anymore!”
With that, they stormed off, huffing and puffing like the big bad wolf.
Remus and Violet simply stared at each other. This time, the silence was one imbued with astonishment. A quiet awe.
It remained so until Remus dived out of bed, miraculously recovering. “You can still sneak through to the front lines right?”
Violet opened her mouth, wanting more than anything to say something along the lines of hey, you have to recover! She let that inclination die like a blown out candle. Remus would only go barreling ahead, saying something quippy like I’ll walk it off.
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“Yes I can, though I’m going to plant a few Projections on you to make sure everything’s good.”
“Okay.” Remus agreed instantly, turning to the tent’s flap. Violet barely had time to conjure two tiny pods, and place them into his pocket, before Remus was gone with the wind.
Apparently, there was no better medicine than motivation.
----------------------------------------
It took Remus a few minutes until he located the meeting place.
He was forced to ask around, receiving more than a few dirty looks from the various clansmen as he did so. Alas, the people were just as clueless as he was on the matter. Clearly, the organisers of this operation kept the whereabouts hidden, with only the winning team given directions.
Shame that Remus had triggered a blood-feud with the only man capable of telling him those directions. Or at least, judging by the ruddy, blood-rushed face the man had rushed off with, it felt that extreme.
After the most panicked twenty minutes of his life, Remus finally stumbled upon one very large, formal looking tent. This one, a sickly yellow in colour, eclipsed the infirmary in practically every factor he could think of. It was three times as big, had permanent clippings nailing it into the ground, and he could see broad shadows moving within.
Remus approached the flap, took in a deep breath in case he had found the wrong place, and entered.
Imagine Remus’ surprise when he sauntered into that very same tent, looked up, and saw that wiry man’s fuming face.
“Look who decided to join us,” he growled, standing up from a cushioned floor. The words went through one of Remus’ ears, and out the other, his focus directed on taking in the scene.
There were five other people in the tent, each seated on a cushion each. Remus saw an empty spot in the corner, mumbled an apology, and took the seat. The man ahead of him may have been a tad more important than he first cared to notice.
“As I was saying before we were rudely interrupted,” the man’s eyes looked everywhere but at Remus, “I’m going to be your main escort. We’re taking an underground route straight under the front lines, and I won’t be surprised if we run into our fair share of Unbounded. The contrary would surprise me, in fact.”
He said nothing, as if waiting for backlash, or somebody to ask a question. Neither occurred, the gathered crowd clearly as eager as Remus to get going. It was during this short pause that Remus noticed another empty seat. He got the feeling the occupant for that spot was currently sprawled on the ground in the middle of nowhere.
“If any of you are in doubt of my power, or the protection I can provide, know this: I’m a Warlord of the Defense Clan.”
That caused Remus to blink. The man certainly didn’t appear all that powerful, and his scrawny build, Remus couldn’t help but think, wouldn’t fare too well against a large bird.
“I could get in some real trouble if anyone from my sect caught word of what I’m doing here, so for now, you guys can call me . . .” His eyes became distant. “Kyle.”
If there were a list of names that sounded fake, Kyle would probably place pretty high.
“Before we leave,” Kyle unveiled a cigar, and began smoking, “I think we should all list off our abilities, and a little about ourselves. That way, we can work in tandem if conflict should arise on our way.” He blew smoke over them all, and Remus tried not to look too uncomfortable.
No one did so much as stir. Clearly a tough crowd.
“What a talkative bunch.” Irritation began to bleed into Kyle’s tone, but another draw from his cigarette seemed to quell his emotions. It must have been a flimsy cure for some anger management problems. Each to their own, Remus supposed. “I’ll begin then.” The man spread out an arm, and they all watched curiously as silvery metal spread up the limb. “I'm damn near invincible. I can also create shields, summon wards, and increase the endurance of anyone in a few mile range. The less people, the more effective.”
He turned to a woman on his side. “We’ll go clockwise. Lassie, carry us on.”
The woman had a pretty ordinary appearance, as far as Remus could see, with the only visible alteration of her body her eyes. The pupils were golden, and star-shaped. So Remus wasn’t caught off guard when she announced her sect.
“I’m Capella, of the Star Clan. I can summon stars and use them like explosions.”
“Is that all?” Kyle asked.
She shrugged, eyes glassy from boredom, and kind-of alien. “I can read constellations to predict fate. But it's unreliable.”
The lips twitched of another woman, adjacent to Capella. Her hawkish features and tucked-away wings gave away her birthplace instantly. “What did you read last night? Anything interesting?”
Capella didn’t say a word.
Before it could get anymore awkward, the other woman sprang into her own introduction. “I’m Aquila, and it should be obvious I’m from the Bird Clan. The techniques are self-explanatory.”
A bald man was next, harsh-featured and looking like he constantly held a mouthful of gravel. “The name’s Pearce. I’m from the Earth Sect. I can manipulate and move rock and stone, which may come in handy when we reach the tunnelway. That’s about it.”
Remus kept his mouth shut for three seconds, until he realised all eyes were on him. “I have the Mark of the Ambition Clan,” he worded carefully, after swallowing. “I can create blue flames, have high endurance, and can attack explosively.”
If he didn’t tell them how literally he meant that last part, though did set a finger on fire for show.
“Quite ironic then, your case of hypothermia.” Kyle beamed wickedly.
“I suppose it is.”
Remus was too preoccupied with staring daggers into the Warlord to pay full attention to the last two. Another woman was from the Matter Clan, and startled Remus when she announced she was married to Kyle.
Inter-sect marriages weren’t a crime or anything. Alas, they hardly ever occurred, to the extent it was a sort of unspoken taboo. Many clans even went so far as instructing their clansmen to only marry the other families within the sect. Else, there wasn't a guaranteed chance that the child would choose to inherit their god’s Mark. A loss of a potential clansman left a sour taste in the sect leader’s mouth.
There was also the fact that opposing sects had a habit of slaughtering one another.
This would also explain why Kyle held no qualms with using his status as a soldier at the front lines to disguise his money-making schemes. While others would believe he spent his time fighting valiantly for the clan, and he may have actually done so every now and again to keep up appearances, he was actually preoccupied here. Running his gladiator ring to earn an ungodly amount, and enjoying a relationship the Defence Clan may not approve.
All whilst using the promise of sneaking wannabe-soldiers into the front lines, to coax potential gladiators over here. There were probably a dozen other set-ups along the front lines exactly like this, probably working for some hidden boss at the top of the monopoly.
The last clansman was a quiet fellow from the Gravity Clan, who said the bare minimum and spent most of his time brooding.
“I’ve created you all fake IDs,” Rashana — Kyle's wife — explained, handing them all small books, barely five pages long. Remus looked through, and his eyes widened at how real the booklets appeared.
That consensus was reciprocated by the others. Suffice to say, Rashana was quite pleased with herself. “I copied them exactly from the small number of real IDs I’ve been able to inspect. They’ll serve you well enough.”
“If we all survive to see their usage.” Kyle said brightly.
“Also,” Rashana tugged on their attention once again. “I have wares used on the front lines if any tickle your fancy. We have-”
“Come on love, you can cajole the group into giving up their every last coin later. Chop-chop, before we risk others finding-”
“I’ll buy a Calibrator.” Remus held up the small amount of Inklings he had on hand. Violet and Remus had exchanged all their currency back into First Rite’s coin, after setting their sights on the front lines. All kinds of money were used on that long frontier, but Inklings were a fairly safe bet to have on your person.
Remus saw the dust-white band in Rashana’s collection. He’d been meaning to purchase one since first witnessing its capabilities in Hadrian’s hand. With it, he could pinpoint areas to improve on, track his progress, and reach new heights in his training.
She snatched the bag he offered, and shook it. As if she could tell its worth simply from the jingles it gave off, she handed Remus the device. He placed it on himself.
“Give it a while to get to know you, or so to speak. And take good care of it. What you’re holding right there is the peak of modern technology.”
“Well then,” Kyle launched to his feet, took one last puff from his cigar, and crushed it. “Let’s get moving before we have an auction going!”
The group got up one at a time, Aquila sneakily handing Rashana a money pouch as they left.
For about half an hour, they simply marched around the outpost, covered by the shade of some nearby dunes so as not to bring attention to themselves. No one bothered saying anything, and Remus wasn’t eager to get all buddy-buddy either. Once they entered the front lines, he doubted if they’d ever see each other again.
Finally, when the sun began to set in the distance, an intertwining of warm shades dispersing upon the horizon, they came to a stop. Kyle turned around.
“Just to preface, before the real danger starts, I think you should all be aware of the hazards we face as we trek over to the warzone. We’re going to have to cover smaller areas of the Silver Cavities. Nowhere too deep, or even really directly passing through, but you will feel the pressure in certain locales. I, nor anybody else in this arrangement we have going on, are responsible for your safety. That includes if the caves come crashing down, if one of you gets eaten by an Unbounded, or if the like happens. You all take responsibility for yourselves. Even if the worst is to occur.” He crossed his arms. “You understand?”
They all agreed. It wasn’t a question of if they would — you had to have understood the dangers by now if you made it this far.
Kyle said farewell to his wife, who would stay behind and make sure nobody followed them. If the secret path to the army got exposed, well, this entire operation would be jeopardised. And that meant a lot of lost money for the pair of them. It was her job to ensure that didn't happen, and if it did . . .
Remus supposed a few statues of helpless, screaming eavesdroppers wouldn’t be out of her capabilities to create. The Matter Clan weren’t ones to fight, but they certainly could, if the need arose.
“This is the cave?” Pearce frowned at the rather thin crack leading through the rock face. “Looks like a tight fit.”
“It’ll widen up further in. Anyway, if it's such a big deal, why not use your mystical rock powers you keep talking about to widen up the path? Ey, how about that?”
With no cigar in sight, Kyle was beginning to get a little rowdy.
“Okay, then,” Pearce said simply. He moved one step forwards, activated a flashing Mark depicting his god holding up a mountain range. The cave entrance promptly widened like the jaws of a predator, the ground trembling as he did so.
They began setting up formation. “I’ll take up the rear,” Remus insisted, “you guys go on ahead, I have to sort out . . .” his mind raced. “My laces.”
He was met with more than one befuddled look. Nevertheless, he was allowed to linger behind as the group sauntered inside the cavern. When he was sure they were out of hearing range, he spoke to nowhere in particular. “You can come out now.”
Violet walked into view. “Doing your laces, really?”
“Yeah, yeah, I know; I had to think on the fly. Anyhow, I don’t have long. Do you think you can ward off any Unbounded from attacking us?”
“Maybe.” She replied. “But I don’t know for how long, and I can’t promise absolute protection. It should help a little though.”
“Thank you.”
Remus looked into the open mouth of death, activated his Mark, and went on ahead.
“I’ll follow on behind you.”
Those were the last words Remus heard, before stumbling deep into the earth.