When Remus awoke, it was a miracle he was in one piece. In fact, aside from a little weakness, he felt perfectly fine.
Funny what some God-Graced level healing and an advancement could do for you.
He hadn’t expected to survive the fight in the first place. Anger was the most potent drug of all, and mixed with the Ambition literally swimming in his blood, it was a recipe for disaster.
Remus blinked until his eyes adjusted to the fresh flood of light, seeping in through a side of the tent blown askew. The weariness didn’t fully vanish, but instead swept away into an obscure corner of his mind. On impulse, Remus looked around cautiously. His awakening had felt anything but natural. Something must have woken him up, but looking around at the bare contents of the infirmary tent, no clues were revealed as to what.
That was until, in the most comforting sight of his life, Violet walked into view.
“You’re an idiot.” She said firmly, towering over him, arms crossed. There was no hatred in her voice, only concern. Either way, Remus supposed both would be merited. He couldn’t even find the will to snap back with some witty comment. Instead, he sighed.
“Are you okay?” He tried to smile. “Couldn’t have been more of a mess than what I put myself in, right?”
When Violet didn’t laugh, Remus decided to stay quiet.
She explained everything. How the Pet-Keeper was dead, how Belindo was dead, how all the Right-bearers but Nova were well and truly gone. How, even despite Nova’s slippery escape, she had revealed his identity to the world. And, in doing so, had cemented her own.
Violet tossed a newspaper onto Remus' lap. His eyes scanned the lines, before spotting himself in combat with the Supreme Being in a disturbing image. Was this him? The Remus he saw . . . they were furious. The fire, the abundant Infinity, the deep blue of his eyes through the beacon of light.
He tapped his own cheek. “My eyes-”
“Permanently blue.” Violet confirmed. “Alterations tend to mature at Foot-Soldier.”
“My chains. I hate to ask, but are they-”
“Destroyed. Beaten to dust in your rampage.”
Remus swallowed. He faced the paper again. A little further down was another image, befitting another headliner story.
His stomach tightened at the image. Which, battered and bruised as he was, was not a pleasant addition to the cocktail of agonies. It was of Violet, her vibrant Tapestry flashing brighter than a lighthouse, the picture of Nova exposed in his raw form.
Remus’ eyes settled on the title. The breath in his throat left him.
UNBOUNDED VS UNBOUNDED: MONSTERS TURN AGAINST ONE ANOTHER.
“That’s despicable.” He did a low growl, holding tight onto the edge of his bed. “Violet, ignore all of this. If there’s anyone to be called monstrous, I have a list nearly two-thousand people long before it gets anywhere near you.”
“I know, you don’t have to assure me.” She looked down at Remus, placing a hand on his brow.
After so many beatings, touch was enough to make Remus flinch. Though, for some reason, Violet seemed to circumvent his impulses. It took the most precise Ichor control of his life to stop himself from blushing.
“You’re warm.” She frowned. “Are you feeling okay?”
“Better now that you’re here.”
Violet smiled at that. A warm smile, one that made the room they stood in a little brighter. Remus’ stomach performed a few cartwheels at the sight.
Strange feelings, unfamiliar feelings, carried a raucous orchestra through Remus’ mind. He tried to shove them down. To keep a level-head, to not let himself be consumed by the sea of emotions, of the pain and loss, and everything else setting his heart into a frenzy.
It was like Remus was being pulled in every direction, all at once. The mental equivalent of being strapped into some ancient torture device, resisting and resisting until eventually . . .
He would snap.
Andreas’ face suddenly flashed before his eyes. Remus took the most unsteady breath of his life, fighting, waging war against his body to stop the waterworks before they started. He couldn’t cry before Violet. The thought repulsed him. After everything she had been through, everything everyone had been through, he just couldn’t.
Remus had almost jeopardised the entire war effort because of a personal vendetta — if his brawl with the Supreme Fiend went any other way, if he were to have died, who was to say what disasters would have arrived? All because of him.
Violet somehow found her way around his tense fingers, forcing them against her own. “I’m sorry.”
Remus half-choked, half-laughed. Was he that bad at suppressing his emotions? “You have nothing to be sorry for.”
There was a pause. Why were the words so hard to find? He moved his lips, tried to evoke sound, but nothing. There was the fear he would burst out sobbing if he spoke too much, but it went deeper than that.
The image of Andreas ran laps around his psyche. His heart, his ever deceiving heart. It wanted something. What did it want? Part of him didn’t want to find out; was too scared too.
“I don’t want to lose anyone else.” He eventually spoke, in a slow murmur. “Not Koa, not my family, not the remains of our squadron. But the thought of losing you.” He tilted his head higher. “That’s worse than anything.”
Some emotion arose on Violet’s face. Those raging red embers looked into Remus, past the flesh of his eyes and mind, searching deeper, into his soul.
“Violet, I think I-” Remus bit his tongue. “What I mean to say is that-”
“Remus.”
He stopped himself. “I care a lot about you.”
“I do too . . . but things are complicated.”
That was like a shot of venom injected into his veins. It danced around with whatever medicines were raving in his bloodstream, revelling in the havoc of it all. Remus winced.
“I know they are. Look, we’ll both be vaulting back into the closest battlefield at the nearest opportunity, and we both know it. This recovery time is like a vacation to us, and hell, you look like you haven't the slightest scratch on you.”
Violet laughed. Remus didn’t miss the undertones of sadness, however. “I’m just terribly exhausted, that’s all. Some of us have to be careful not to be too badly hurt — the gods don’t grant inexhaustible health to all of us.”
Remus ignored another pang from his raging headache. Now that he was fully conscious, the pain was springing into full effect. Becoming numb from his Ambition would have been nice, and Remus might have even been tempted to use some, had the skin around his Mark not been burnt so grotesquely. Until it healed, Remus didn’t dare risk what kind of torment would arise, if he did so much as provoke his Mark.
“I don’t feel inexhaustible.” Remus leaned his head back. No part of the cushion was any more comfortable. “You’re so strange to me.”
Violet cocked an eyebrow. “I’m strange? Says the guy who leaped into Belidno’s jaws head-first.”
Remus laughed. Something around his chest didn’t like that, and he quickly quietened down. “It’s like you're not real. You’re too good to be true.”
“I’m here.” She placed a hand near him. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“I don’t know what I’d do if something happened to you Violet. Hell, I don’t know what I’m going to do now that Andreas is-”
Remus cut himself off. Pain, torment. That was all memory offered him. A little melodramatic, true, but Remus didn’t feel like he could survive another flashback of that fight. It was far too much for him to be dealing with, especially in this condition. Especially with the subject of all his affection inches away.
When Remus composed himself, Violet’s hand in his kept him steady
“Remus . . . you’re shaking.”
Remus said nothing. Again, his eyes threatened to erupt with moisture; he could not allow them to.
There was something he had to get off his chest. “Violet, I don’t know how to say this.”
“Take your time.” Her hand tightened.
Time. Remus closed his eyes, took a deep breath. In that moment, right before he threatened to ruin everything, Remus took one, two, three deep breaths. He could have been the oldest being in the world, or the youngest. Nothing really mattered at this point. It was the stupidest thought process, the word risk holding no meaning — none at all. If this all went miserably? What would be the problem? In that short-term, punch-drunk mindset, Remus was too numb to face the consequences of anything.
Even Andreas’ death was yet to fully hit home. Everything was a dream, and more tired than he had ever been in his life, Remus bit the bullet.
“I care about you more than anyone.” Remus murmured, heedless of the outcome. “More than words can express.”
“I care a lot about you too.” Violet didn’t let go of his hand, but her grip weakened.
“No, not like that. More than that.”
Violet blinked. “What are you trying to say?”
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
Dazed, vision swimming in places, Remus saw the confused look in Violet’s eyes so clearly. Clearer than any fleeting sight, amid the turmoil of wavy lines and undefined edges.
“I think you know.”
There was a pause, as if Violet was living through five generations all at once, five lifetimes passing to make her eyes so dazed. Remus focused on them. Her hold on his hand was weaker than ever, and for some reason, the thought of her pulling away was the worst possibility he could fathom. Worse than if an earthquake was to suddenly occur and bury them all.
“Remus, you’re confused. The pain, the loss of your grandfather, it's making you feel things.”
That felt worse than any blow Remus had ever endured. “It's not that. I’ve known before any of this happened, back in the trenches when we were waiting for back-up. I realised then what you were to me.”
Their fingers were barely touching now.
“Remus . . . you mean so much to me, but we can’t. I’m Unbounded.”
“Only partly. And so what? That doesn’t make a difference to me.”
She looked away from him. It was almost a slap in the face when Violet withdrew her hand. “It makes all the difference, Remus. Regardless of my own feelings, it wouldn’t be right for me to take this girl’s body, and then date around. What would have Violet wanted — the real Violet?”
“You’re Violet now.” Remus had never spoken so hastily. “You can make this choice for yourself — you can be happy.”
“And my reputation.” She disregarded his words. “The people will love you for killing two Right-bearers, once the shock of all this wears off. But me? I don’t think other people will ever look at me like I’m normal. They’ll tolerate me for helping with the war effort, but nothing more. I can’t drag you down with me. I love you too much for that.”
The words caught in Remus’ throat. Everything Violet said was like a punch into the chest, the beatdown never ending. “I don’t care what people think. They’ll come around, and if not? Who cares? Why should we sacrifice our happiness to suit them?”
“I can’t let you deface yourself. You don’t deserve that after everything you’ve been through. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself. You’ve already done so much for me, more than I could ever repay.”
Remus gritted his teeth until his gums hurt. It was the only thing he could do at this point to keep himself in order. If he broke down now, the shame he’d have to carry . . . it would kill him.
“Violet, I-”
“Remus, I think you need some time to recover. I’m doing this for you, alright? You’ll see things more clearly when you’ve had some time to grieve, some time to get better.”
What could he say? What could Remus possibly say that could mend this mess of a situation — that wouldn’t make him sound like an emotional child?
There was nothing. Violet’s footsteps out of the room were their own cracks in reality — in the reality Remus had been an idiot to believe possible.
His stomach hurt so badly, as if razor-edged butterflies were flying inside, jutting against the lining of his guts.
Remus lay there, in that hospital bed, and lost himself. When the time came for sleep to take hold, he was all too grateful for it.
----------------------------------------
Ash was waiting in the chamber, his palms so clammy, the sweat clung his skin to Donovan’s gifted knuckles.
He stared at the weapons now, doing his best not to think about what was to come. Or to look at the woman facing him.
“Nervous?” Juniper asked, with a wry smile.
“No.”Ash lied. Showing weakness before Juniper was the last thing he wanted to do, even at the cost of his own sanity. “I’m bored.”
“Bored?” Juniper laughed. “A likely story.”
Ash realised his leg had been shuddering. He bit the inside of his mouth, and stomped the limb to a stop.
The elephant in the room breathed down Ash’s neck. It sent gooseflesh flushing down him, undoing any false pretence of bravery he could muster. The news, they had both heard it clear as day. Speaking it into existence seemed to make it more real, as foolish as that was, so Ash set himself to ignoring it altogether.
At least in conversation. In mind? The prospect that Koa had helped to kill the Pet-Keeper sent him spiralling. Half of him wrote off the news as false instantly. The part of him that dared to believe, on the other hand, was making him sick with fear.
Koa. Killing a Right-bearer. Those two put together didn’t compute.
“I was under the impression that you were confident for this bout, Ash. You disarmed your brother so easily in your last fight, didn’t you?”
Ash swallowed. The sensation that there was a frog in his throat didn’t fade; not in the slightest. “Yes. Yes I did.”
“It sounds to me as if you’re reassuring yourself, rather than confirming my statement. Is that the case?”
Juniper was doing a very excellent job of getting on Ash’s nerves. Had this been anyone else but his God-Graced, Ash would have snapped back with a very colourful remark of his own. Silence would have been no less rude, so Koa settled on a low grunt. That was about as disrespectful as he could afford to get.
“Well Ash, whatever the case, you can’t really lose this fight, can you?”
Ash raised his head from out of his knees. Something told him Juniper didn’t mean that as an expression of her faith in him. “What do you mean?”
“Well, this is your brother we’re talking about, isn’t it? If you win, you get the glory of triumph, but I’m sure you’d be disheartened”
“Why would I be?” Ash had to stop himself from growling.
“No matter how much you two may disagree, you’re brothers. After everything you’ve been through together . . . don’t you feel that his leaving the clan would be a loss?”
Ash was about to lash back with a rapier reply. Then it occurred to him — Juniper had never held any real intention to expel Koa from the clan. Especially now that the Pet-Keeper was dead, rendering Koa’s sole motivation for leaving in the first place obsolete.
Was this her way of making them realise how much they cared for each other? Like life was some fairy tale where everyone lived happily ever after, frolicking in fields for all eternity?
That, more than anything in Ash’s confusing hodgepodge of a life, rubbed him the wrong way. It chafed at his already waning temper.
If Juniper was going to treat them like adorable toys to play with, then Ash would reject the game entirely. He would flip the playing board on its head.
“Nevermind.” Ash said a tad more resolutely. “I’m going to destroy Koa.”
Juniper raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”
“Helping to kill the Pet-Keeper . . .” He forced a laugh. ”As if the half a dozen God-Graced present shouldn’t take the credit.”
The more Ash spoke, the more confident he felt. “In fact, what do I have to fear? I’m verging on Foot-Soldier, and Koa reaching Emblazed was the greatest fortune he’s ever received. A miracle, really. It’s not a competition.”
Juniper looked at him funny, but Ash was sure that was just a means to hide her surprise. Regardless, this fight was going to be a walk in the park.
At least, that was what Ash told himself, as he sauntered towards the door. One inch of stone was all that separated him, and the boy he was about to crush.
With one hand, Ash sweeped the boundary open.
“Good luck.” Juniper gave one last call.
Ash scoffed. “Like I’ll need it.”
He took one, two, three steps, and already, he saw him.
Ash paused. The cocky smile slipped from his lips.
Koa stared at Ash through four eyes, one of them not even located in his socket. An eyepatch covered half his face, the other eye glowed with a faint emerald, and three others of the organs hovered around. They all emitted the same neon green glow, encasing Koa in the signature shade of the Wild.
A cloak of web surrounded the boy, shimmering in transparent places, like it wasn’t there. His hand held tight onto a halberd, one Ash had read much about. The weapon that landed the final blow to undo the Pet-Keeper’s Divine Right.
Suddenly Ash couldn’t find it in him to trash talk.
He slammed his knuckles together, strolled forwards, and forced down any resistance he felt. Some part of him heard a Wild clansman announce the start of the duel, but Ash could have been five million lightyears away.
Insects spread across the battlefield. Ash didn’t miss the buzzing crickets' presence, or the bees that swarmed the place. Sweeping out Infinity from his Bank, he ignored the creatures. If this was how his brother planned on beating him, a bug exhibit was a lousy effort.
There was no time to dilly-dally. Ash launched forward, feet creeping ahead at the speed of light. Oak roots shot out of the earth, dividing the rigid stone that made up their fighting platform.
Twisting branches charged for Koa like grasping hands. Ash’s heart roared with delight as Koa stood idly, five branches closing in on his pathetic form. His floating eyes had disappeared, but otherwise, he was exactly the same as he’d always been.
Young, foolish, and doomed to fall miserably short when it came to their brotherly rivalry.
Koa had been foolish enough to lose an eye in his childish absence, and Ash felt no pity in his heart for the injury. No matter what his constricting throat had to say about it, Ash couldn’t care less.
Ash blinked, expecting to see Koa bruised and bloody, only to find his hostile branches cleaving through empty air.
The next time he blinked, his face was met with a roundhouse punch.
Ash was blasted back, his path through the air trailing with Ichor. His feet found ground, as ruined as their platform already was, and Ash skidded to a stop. It was getting increasingly difficult to breathe through his nose, and something told Ash the outpour of blood leaking out of his nostrils probably had something to do with it.
He hardly had the sense of mind to protect himself from the follow-up attack.
The aura his brother was giving off — there was no doubt about it — it was Foot-Soldier level.
Now, Ash refused to hold back anything. The stone platform beneath their feet was sacrificed, crumbled to pebbles in favour of a booming stretch of oak. The forest materialised in little more than two seconds, requiring nothing else than a blast of his Mark. This was the real battleground of two Wilderness clansmen; here, Ash would be able to push himself to the-
Something blurred in his vision, and Ash felt his back slam into the tree behind him. He had hardly processed that blow before half a dozen projectiles joined the fray. All hitting him with perfect accuracy.
The world was spinning. Ash fought not to be sick, fought to spit the blood out of his mouth, and to keep fighting, but the advancing shadow of Koa . . .
Entangled by the very same branches he had dragged into existence, Ash blasted out wave after wave of his energy.
The attacks were only half-formed, mostly slams of Infinity and unrefined power. Nevertheless, it was the equivalent of Ash erupting ten tons of dynamite. Not a drab of power was wasted, every last speck on his person committed to awful, lethal chaos.
Through the multitudinous sea, the ebbing storm of his own power, Koa couldn’t see a damn thing. Not the branches, not his brother — even Ash’s own body was obscured by the emerald light.
Koa’s eyes would be vaporised, he was sure. The flying pests finally put to an end. So what if Koa had lost one of his eyes? That didn’t grant him the right to such an advantage. Perhaps one floating organ from the Sight Sect should be allowed, but three?
It was a Sight Sect plot to add fuel to the fire, to exacerbate the hot tensions already rising in the Wild Clan. Ash didn’t know why, or how, but was sure of it. Why else would they bestow Koa with such a tool, one that would allow him to beat Ash in such a crude and unfair way. His mind settled on that last point, letting it fester in his anger; fuming over it. That was exactly right: It wasn’t fair. One injury of Koa’s own doing was not a reason to bend the rules. The attention Koa had received from Elmore, the instant admiration everyone gave the boy when they saw him, the glory of getting revenge, and stripping that chance away from Ash forever. All of it was unfair.
Koa, Koa, Koa. All Koa. Never Ash. Never the older brother who was far too lazy to make use of himself, reduced to little more than one of Juniper’s pawns after the death of his cousin. Traumatised, and doomed to be overtaken by his far more capable, likeable, and all-around superior younger brother.
Ash never snapped out of that line of thinking. Not when a shadow leaped closer, suspiciously in the shape of an unharmed Koa. Not when the first punch winded all the air from out of his lungs. Not in the barrage that followed, when stars danced before his eyes and all the world titled askew.
Not when he found himself lying on the bare ground, time slipping minutes forward with one blink of the eye. Not when he rolled around in a pool of his own Ichor — not physically close to dying, but the spark of hope in the back of his mind all but gone. Not when his future prospects burned to a crisp before his very eyes, as, above the ringing in his ears, Juniper declared the winner.
It was then that Ash decided that slipping into sleep was better than anything the waking world had to offer. Yet not even then, at the end of it all, when Ash noted the name called out by his God-Graced, did he ever kill the spite rushing through his body.
Ash cursed his brother’s name — the victor’s name — and drifted away.