When Remus was finished filling his tray with overflowing dishes, it was almost a challenge to carry it over to their table.
Noodles, eggs, honeyed meats, fish, and all the vegetables and fruits he could stomach. It was like the Flame Sect’s supper all over again, only with a variety that dazzled the mind. Call him greedy, but traversing through a deadly cavern built up quite the appetite. Remus downed an entire pitcher of water, before finally turning to a rigid Tanguy. A beaming Hadrian looked back and forth between the pair of them, refusing to acknowledge the tension in the room.
Remus took another sip. He was beginning to suspect he was a nervous drinker. He coughed into a fist. “So-”
“I’m sorry.” Tanguy said abruptly, like he had finally unearthed an ancient tomb, one he’d been dragging through the caverns of his soul for days. “Going out to fight you in First Rite was foolish of me.”
His expression was blank, though Tanguy had since lost the stoic quality Remus had become accustomed to. Nor were the flames of his rage there. Something was in those eyes, though, something almost intangible. Remus couldn’t pin it down, though he got the feeling it wasn’t malicious.
“It's fine.” He replied simply, though still wasn't prepared to fully open-up to Tanguy. He’d have to see how far this all went. If he truly was turning over a new leaf.
Hadrian smiled a tad more brightly at that.
“What are you two doing here, anyway?” Remus asked between mouthfuls of peanut-butter covered fruit, an exotic kind he’d never seen before.
“You may have heard from Veida’s letters to Violet that things have gotten bad for us, as of late. Our bases are in ruins from Unbounded attacks — and we’re not the only ones. The Unbounded are making waves to crush the bases of any clans they see fit.” Hadrian didn’t sigh, didn’t carry the wistful tone of a man recounting a recent tragedy. The reality of their clan was something he was used to. Like how a doctor becomes jaded to the sight of blood.
Remus couldn’t decide if that made it less sad, or more so.
He suddenly grinned. “So we brought the clan to the front lines! It didn’t take much convincing out of the generals; I suppose in their eyes, the more the merrier. Despite how many Emblazed we’ve brought.”
That made sense. The generals must have been aware of how many people snuck into the front lines. They had to keep up appearances at the main entrance, turning away Emblazed, but if you were to get in via discreet means, or had a valid reason for the early arrival, that was another matter entirely.
It was something they could overlook; throw under the rug, and maintain their clean reputation.
“Where’s Violet?” Hadrian asked, looking around like he expected her to show up any time now.
“It's complicated.” Remus explained. “She’s technically strong enough to enter, but certain qualities of hers make it hard to navigate through here without-”
He tried not to make it too obvious he was staring at Tanguy out of the corner of his eye.
“Without people getting the wrong idea.”
Hadrian nodded carefully, tossing a dumpling into his mouth and quickly changing the topic. “Veida’s here with us. Virtually the entire clan is.”
For a while, they continued to talk over idle matters. The plates became less and less full, and Remus found his tray to be surprisingly light as he disposed of their cutlery.
“You know what, Remus?” Hadrian snapped him out of deep thought. “I’m serving as a pseudo-squadron leader here. I could have a word with my superiors, and could arrange for you to be placed in my squadron if you like. Our fighting styles are very similar anyway, are they not?”
Remus flickered a finger aflame for show. “That sounds like a great idea.” His smile remained, but became subtly strained. “I’ll have to talk with my clan first, I think they’re here somewhere.”
“Of course, of course.” Hadrian reminded Remus of Andreas so much. It was like someone was using his heart-strings to play musical notes. “I’m sure they’ll be very proud of you.”
Despite his cheery demeanour, Remus felt like he was forgetting about something. Everything had gone smoothly, his Progress Calibrator should be finished gathering data on him by now, and Violet would probably be preoccupied scouting the lay of the land.
So what was it? There was one piece he was forgetting. Someone who should be here.
Like turning a lightbulb on, it clicked. Aziel.
Aziel said he would be heading out to the front lines. So many familiar faces were gathered here, at the war front.
Hadrian, Tanguy, him and Aziel, all fighting side-by-side in one squad, infernos walking into any battle with the sole intent of blazing a path to victory.
There wasn’t any prospect that could please him more.
----------------------------------------
Koa woke up with a start. Once again he was moving, sticky webs clinging to his face, as he blinked sleep out of his eyes.
Immediately, not failing to notice he was being taken somewhere, Koa fumbled around for his dagger. The webbing around him was strangely durable, more rope-like than the spindly creation of some spider. Of a normal spider, anyhow, but he had been yet to meet any standard arachnids since stepping foot into this hell. A grave mistake he was still paying for even now.
He had to be delicate, so not as to alert the Arachnid Clanswoman who was dragging him away. Nevertheless, sacrificing subtly for practicality, Koa almost yelped with joy as he finally fingered the blade. He gritted his teeth, swallowing a cry of pain as his finger slitted against the jagged side. He felt blood there, and without fixating on the injury for a second longer, set himself to cutting a way out.
It was like trying to slice through steel with a butter knife. For a minute straight, that harsh sound of metal-on-metal became his world. Koa felt his heart beat faster with every failed swipe, the door of freedom seeming to him like it was getting further away. Now but a vague rectangle in a dark abyss, the key nowhere in sight.
If that was the case, Koa would brute force his way through.
Infinity poured into his blade, energy emerging from his Mark extending the weapon at the same time. It grew to dangerous lengths, and Koa risked poking his eye out as the equivalent of a katana became heavy in his grip.
He got so far as shattering one tiny strand of web. It was nothing, like finally getting a doorknob that refused to turn to rattle a little. Yet the progress reinvigorated Koa. His freedom suddenly didn’t seem so distant. Instead of a sealed away door, the only thing in his way was a mine that had collapsed inwards. He bore the pickaxe needed to pick his way through, and no matter how long it would take, he could get to the other side.
Another strand relented. Like a broken cord on a guitar. The discordant sound of which was its own kind of music to Koa, even if only heard in his drugged mind.
He could stick a hand out of the gap he had made now. Koa felt the cool night breeze flutter past his digits, which, at that moment, was as comforting as any fireplace.
Everything went into disarray when he stopped moving. The string around him suddenly slackened, suddenly not so restrictive. Yet it wasn’t to facilitate his rescue. It was to cement his capture.
Bundles of string ensnared his hands together, his dagger protruding between them like the horn of a unicorn.
A strong grip pulled him to the ground, and Koa was forced to shrink the blade, or risk injury. It chafed against his chin nonetheless. His eyes settled on the sight of the Ichor muddying the dirt below, not able or willing to look into the eyes of his captor.
He was pulled to his feet. Too dazed, and probably poisoned to retreat, he could do little to stop them. Only when they pulled Donovan’s weapon away from Koa, did a wave of fury seemed to re-energise him. Acting as his own anti-toxin.
“Give it back.” His voice came out as a growl, one he didn’t recognise as his own.
The woman ignored him, slipping the dagger underneath the fabric of her belt. She pulled him along like cattle. That sounded to Koa like a description a little too literal. That's what he was here — food; sustenance.
Regrets pulsed through his body, faster than his own blood. He was going to die, to be eaten dead or alive without ever repairing his relationship with Ash. With his entire clan, for that matter. He would die as a deserter, a cautionary tale for any excitable young clansman looking to make a few bold choices.
His burial would be without a body. Awfully like, he couldn’t help but think, Elmore.
Koa probably missed his cousin’s funeral, blindsighted by grand, larger than life affairs he had had no business getting involved with. And where had it gotten him?
They were at the portcullis now, slipping under its open gates. Down the jaws of death they went, dancing along its throat before Koa would reach the deep abyss waiting beyond. They reached an antechamber, then a stretch of passages, and then, Koa finally registered, when he found the will to raise his head, a kind of courtyard.
The entire castle was made out of web. There was no structure of brick laying underneath, as Koa had first suspected. Only string, the kind reinforced by Supreme Steel that had encased him only minutes prior. It would have been impressive, if not for the sicky feeling Koa got that he was in some kind of nest. Trapped there, caught like a passing fly and ready to be eaten.
That feeling was only amplified by what he saw next.
Dominating all of a gigantic web, laid the biggest tarantula Koa had ever seen. No, he realised, it was an Unbounded. Similar to the three that were doing their best to cave his skull in earlier. He hoped they weren’t related, otherwise, he may have started a blood feud with the most unsettling creature possible. Honestly, out of all the animals, arachnids and insects of the world you could enlarge, spiders posed an argument to be the worst possible choice.
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It was the size of a small house, at least, in width, with a grotesque number of beady eyes staring ceaselessly at him. Koa’s eyes were drawn up above, making any excuse to look away. What he saw there was no better.
At the entangled image of a body, Koa initially found himself benumbed. He was used to the sight of the dead by now, though something seemed off. The way this woman was clad — an Arachnid clanswoman, no doubt — was a show of pure wealth. Like someone whose wardrobe consisted of gold, silver and more gold.
Squinting past the glittering jewels, Koa’s attention was drawn to the crown that crested their head. The leader of the Arachnid Clan, dead and hung up to display. Koa’s mind whirled, ratting in his skull as if someone had sucker punched him. Though he supposed surprise packed a greater force than any fist could.
The sorrow in his escort suddenly made sense. A dead sect leader; clansmen, who, save for one bloodthirsty scorpion-man, were anything but enthusiastic in their work; Unbounded running amuck; and their neighbours, the Insect Clan who they once on friendly terms with, nowhere in sight.
It all accumulated in one conclusion. He hadn’t worked out all the details, but Koa was sure he had a vague idea of what was going on. Slowly, he turned around.
The visage of the Pet-Keeper beamed at him.
Koa made to leap forth, primed to tear the skin off the Unbounded’s face. Sudden webs held him back, the poison still in his system stirring like a punch to the gut.
“Always were a feisty one, weren’t you Koa?”
He screamed incoherently, imagining every unspeakable action he could inflict on the Pet-Keeper.
“I remember when you dealt that egregious blow on me,” the Pet-Keeper walked forwards, until he was face-face with a screeching Koa. “How you caught me off guard, how you cut my arm off.”
He extended it fully to Koa. Who, if not for his bounds, would have done his best to tear the limb off.
“All healed, see?” He smiled. It broke like fractured ice before Koa could register it. “But do you know what won’t heal?”
Koa spat molten lava. “Your precious Daisy. We took her to the grave, and I’ll cast you there too.”
“Ah.” The Pet-Keeper’s face flushed red. Like igneous rock blocking out a volcano, seconds before it erupts. “But that’s not the only death that night, was it? You kindly disposed of that idiot Milap for me, and in return-”
The Unbounded got so close, Koa could feel his wretched breath on his face. “I slaughtered Elmore and Donovan. You saw them as brothers, correct? Lifelong companions?” He grinned, though there was no mirth behind it. Only rage; ever gratifying fury. “I killed them.”
Koa screamed, lashing against his binds again. But the Pet-Keeper shifted out of reach. For a minute, he exhausted himself until his throat was too sore to screech another note, his muscles burning too fiercely to move. So Koa spoke. “What are you doing here?” His gaze was like the view down a nocked arrow’s path, the Pet-Keeper his only target. He indicated the gruesome spider at his sound. “Is that your new pet?”
“Angel is no pet. No more than you are an asset to your family, anyhoo.”
Koa rasped again, though hardly any noise came out.
“Her and I thought we could do with a new place to stay. Or, at that time, I did, after what you awful people did to our home.” He crouched down, eye-to-eye with Koa. “Really, how can you live with yourself? Destroying an innocent Unbounded’s house, and killing scores of them in the process, simply because they're Unbounded. And you didn’t even manage to save any of them: not Dovovan, no Akuji, not even your own cousin.”
He opened his mouth, ready to yelp obscenities, when something in the Pet-Keeper’s eyes unsettled him.
“Look at you now, yelping at my feet like a dog. Who’s the real monster here?”
Koa didn’t move, didn’t say anything. He stared daggers into the killer before him, and if that was all he could do — was the only form of pay-back he could deliver before the Right-bearer inevitably killed him — then at least he had done everything.
“Human sects really are quite weak,” the Unbounded continued, like they were good friends catching up over tea, “take out their leader, and they all start following the strongest person in sight. Which just so happens to be me.”
“You’re the ones eating all the clansmen, aren’t you?” Koa found the strength to speak. It was strained, but the Pet-Keeper seemed to hear him perfectly fine. “And you call me a monster.”
“Well, a man needs to eat. If I count as one.”
“You don’t.”
He forced a laugh. “Still, I can't let myself starve. Besides, Angel here needs more food than I can get my hands on. Maybe force feeding the largest Unbounded I stumbled upon was a bad idea.” He stared at Koa in anticipation, as if waiting for the reaction to a joke. “Who am I kidding? It was the best thing I’ve done since killing your snotty-nosed cousin.”
“If you’re going to kill me to feed your freakshow over there, what’s the hold-up?” Koa may have been quickening his own death sentence, but genuine curiosity, a dazed mind, poison, and exhaustion all worked hand-in-hand to make terrible decisions. A pinch of spite made all the difference too.
“Killing you now?” He raised an eyebrow. “Why would I do that? To put you out of your suffering quicker? No. You’re going to be keeping me company for a while, until I get bored of tormenting you, or Angel is in desperate need of a quick snack. Either way, you’re my prisoner.”
Koa felt himself be taken away again. The Pet-Keeper held out a hand. “And, oh yes, one more thing.” His eyes turned to the Arachnid Clanswoman behind him. “Pass me that weapon of his.”
Like an idiot, Koa yelped as it clattered over to the Right-bearer’s feet. He looked curiously at him. “What?” He picked it up. “Is this piece of chunk worth something to you?”
The idea passed through his head to elongate the weapon, perhaps scoring an unexpected hit on the Unbounded. It was tricky though. He didn’t know how many opportunities he would have to initiate a fight, and yet Koa was in no condition to get brawling. If he recovered, found a means to attack him . . . Koa would probably die anyway, but at least then he could put up a good fight.
So when the Pet-Keeper admired his weapon with a wicked smile, Koa tried to rein in his anger.
When he ordered a servant over to start a fire, he really had to control himself.
A great bonfire appeared at his feet. The Pet-Keeper began juggling the weapon, tossing it up and down with the conviction of a budding circus performer. He made a show of almost dropping it, and each slip of the hand and subsequent catch made Koa flinch.
His tension peaked for one excruciating minute.
“Is this some sort of game to you?”
“Game?” The Pet-Keeper flashed a distressed face. “I just can’t seem to grab ahold of-”
It fell into the fires.
“Oh. Pity.” He looked at the blade in flames, then to Koa. “You distracted me. Look at what you made me do!”
Koa lowered his head, and took a deep breath. Then, very quietly, he whispered, “I’m going to kill you.”
Cackles. Each like a blow to the chin. What was the bastard finding so funny?
He suddenly stopped giggling, donning a stoic look so quickly, it gave Koa whiplash. “Take him away. You know which cell.”
Koa didn’t struggle as they took him, there was no point. He simply watched the Pet-Keeper, an ample representation of everything he hated, of crushed dreams and painful memories.
He closed his eyes. I’ll kill him. He vowed. I’ll kill him.
----------------------------------------
Remus found him meditating in a spare room, connected to one of the training camps scattered about the place. Based on the Infinity fluctuations drifting through the air, Aziel was testing out his Vault. Perhaps attempting to adjust to the feeling of his completed tunnels? Or how the Infinity rushed through them?
Either way, Remus was in no mood to disturb him. So he sat by the man, and joined him.
For all his time at the Silver Cavities, his Mould was progressing nicely. Plus, Remus could already sense that the average Infinity concentration near the front lines was enormous compared to what he was used to. When he actually did get sent out to battle, miles on miles on end would be like a weakened version of the Silver Cavities. His growth would be exponential.
Foot-Soldier wasn’t the far off horizon he had once thought it to be. A childish giddiness made Remus grin at the thought. He couldn’t imagine being so powerful, but was nearly upon it.
He was whisked out of his reverie when Aziel yelped. “Remus! What are you doing here?”
Remus grinned. He decided to cut to the chase. “Snuck in. I have family here I want to visit, wherever they are, and training to do. Also money to earn.”
Aziel cackled delightedly. “Yes, money.”
“How long have you been here?”
“Not long. A couple Passings I think?”
Remus bit the inside of his mouth. That would mean Aziel was already assigned to his own squadron. Yet that didn’t mean he couldn’t convince him.
“Look, I came here to offer a proposal.”
“A proposal . . .” he mulled over the word, like he was savouring the taste of it. “Quite the business man you’ve become.”
“I’m forming a squadron with some old friends from the Flame Sect,” Remus wasn’t quite sure yet whether he could include Tanguy in that description, but the young man seemed to have changed enough. “Our powers overlap quite a bit, if you can imagine.”
“I can. So let me guess, you want me to join?”
Remus nodded.
“That’s awfully enticing.” Aziel cracked a smile. “I’m sure we’ll be quite the menacing sight on the battlefield.” There was a catch in his tone, waiting to emerge as abruptly as a Jack-in-the-box. “Though I’d hate to leave the boys in my current group . . . I think they’d understand though.”
“Hadrian should be able to sort out all the technicalities.” Remus explained. Normally, soldiers didn’t have the freedom to hop willy-nilly between whatever squadrons they fancied. Only because Remus was in close relations with someone pretty high up in the rankings, was he able to bend the rules a little.
“Alright.” Aziel hadn’t stopped beaming. “I’m in.”
Right that moment, they turned at the sound of footsteps. Violet was at the entrance.
“I was wondering when I’d see you.” Remus walked over to her. “How’d you get in?”
“Most of these places don’t bother checking ID.” Violet explained. Her eyes swerved to Aziel. “I suppose you’re building up your fanclub?”
“It's a squad.” Remus corrected.
They engaged in idle chatter for all of two minutes before Aziel spoke up.
“I know this might come off as a little overbearing, but you promised to explain everything to me. Violet using a Projection, the things you two would mutter about-”
“Oh right.” Violet cut him off. “I’m an Unbounded.”
Aziel looked at her. And then kept looking.
“There’s no punchline.”
In a sudden transformation, Violet adopted her Unbounded form.
Aziel, bless his soul, looked torn between screaming for help and crumpling into the corner. “Well,” he eventually uttered, when Violet was back in her human form. "If there was any secret worth keeping, that would certainly be it.”
The growing tension shattered. Soon the trio resumed talking comfortably, with Violet explaining everything in hushed tones. Remus felt a warmth in his heart as they laughed and chatted, one that his fires could never hope to match.