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Abraham Ulren

"Fucking hell. Can we take a break? Either of you?"

My legs give out as I slide backward, falling painfully on my ass against the stone railing of the wall. The noises of war have paused, yet these two refuse to rest. The first, Virgil, in his clothes that hardly show an inch of skin with that mask resembling a crow, doesn't need to rest. Or at least not that much. Meanwhile, Skyswain is pushing herself to her precise limit, running herself dry with wounds lacing across her form all over. The poor woman's wings are even injured. Soon, she won't be able to glide, let alone fly.

I mean, no, I don't want to sleep. But... I could use a few hours of rest. Who the fuck thought it was a good idea to put me with these two?

I'd rather be with Bonfire right now. How is he doing? I want to check on him. I'm sure he's in pain. Two of the friends he's known since he was a rat in Blackreach are gone. Forever. Sure, they may be in the Underworld in their own way, but... it's unrealistic to get there anymore. Just as impossible as it is to even bring the dead back.

Only Silas, a man with a Sigil that literally lets him make a wish, made it through the gate as an Undead. I can't imagine Cigar or Woody having something to pull them back.

Fuck. I want to see him. Emmet... he's beaten, burned, and now he has to bury friends. I know he knows it was inevitable, as few can keep up with him, but that doesn't hurt it any less.

Shaking my head, I yank myself from an accidental Override, the skill coming down and allowing the world to slow for a reply from Virgil, the man leaning against a wall as he watches the distance. In four hours or so, the demons will come. At least I can fight from a distance with my Nightmares, but I have to keep these two in my sight.

"Soon."

His only word is enigmatic and annoys me to no end. The family man has no idea.

"Soon? What do you mean by soon? I haven't laid down in four days, slept in nine, and touched a woman in months!"

Skyswain scoffs as she struts beside me, lightly slapping my head with her claw and sending my white hair tussling.

"The first is your only argument, Abraham. The second is your own fault, as we've only been here half that time. The third? Here you go, now, shut up."

A low chuckle rings out of Virgil's mask as I shove Skyswain away. At least she's kinder now. She would have just walked in the opposite direction from a conversation a month ago.

But still, it's annoying. This woman is going to kill herself from exhaustion.

"How come your so energetic? You know, this will kill you if you keep it up."

I notice Virgil twist away, his whole visage pointing outward from the fortress wall. Bastard. He's letting me deal with this one. Eh, I guess he had to deal with Wyatt's suicidal craziness for a while.

So, left alone with me, the Bado woman bites back, her accent strengthened by frustration with her beak clacking.

"I'm fine. What do you know, Nahullo? Bado are tough when we aren't killed in our homes."

Skyswain goes a bit too far, and I take back everything I thought about her kindness.

"The hell you say to me? I'm not a Nahullo. I'd rather kill a dozen Councilmembers than be one."

Her eyes squint, staring into me as if not entirely believing me.

"Sure, if you say so."

I can see the condescension and derision in her eyes. I don't let it slide. I am not one of them and never will be.

"You--!"

"Fine. We'll take a break. Just shut up, you two. You're squabbling like Earl and Primrose. I can't take care of another two children."

Virgil cuts in, moving with the swiftness of night and putting his hand on both of our heads, ruffling them as I see his stark eyes through the hole in his mask.

"Go on. Where to, Abraham? You get the first pick."

The Nightshade offers me first dibs on where we go for a breather. Smiling, I answer him. I can relax later. For now, I need to do something.

"Let's go check on Bonfire. Frozen and Clumsy are with him, but I'm still worried."

Skyswain scoffs at me and steps away, but the moment she takes a step, a hand smacks the back of her head. My lips curl at the sight of Virgil sticking up for me. I knew he had to be a nice guy, simply based on all he does for Wyatt.

"Knew it. You want to play."

Virgil pulls me to my feet as he berates Skyswain. I take his hand, surprised by the strength, as I'm hauled to a stand. Oh, right, the sun's down.

"Shut it. Bonfire is hurt. Two of his friends are dead. I know you are committed to your people, but you must pay more attention. If Abraham had a short fuse, this would not be a forewarning; this would be a fight."

This gets her to turn around, and I finally see her entirely face-to-face as I stand. Her eyes are slanted, with dark circles surrounding them, as she appears to be hurt by his words. The Bado takes a moment upon the wall before speaking. While she waits, I take in the signs of exhaustion. I've had them all before, and I have them now.

I don't think she knows how to deal with the irascibility of not sleeping. She also probably hasn't gotten used to the hallucinations that sometimes come.

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"I--... I'm sorry. I don't want to fight anyone. I'll... I'll sleep while you spend time with your injured friend. Then, can we go to my Nest? Skyyip's chicks should be ready soon."

My eyebrow raises as she apologizes, but I suppose it makes sense. She's been getting more comfortable over time, but I'm sure this prolonged fight has only made her more and more stressed. I... I'll let it slide.

Though, my surprise rises further at the mention of chicks. Was one of the Bado pregnant? I don't recall any of the few remaining Bado women having the countenances of a pregnant woman. However, I don't know how their race has kids. They look like birds... so... do they lay eggs?

I have to ask the question, right? Virgil speaks before I get the chance, pulling us out of the way of a repairman for the nearby cannon. Most of the time between fights for those coming onto duty is spent reconstructing the walls or fixing equipment.

"Apologies, sir. We'll get out of your way. Come on, you two. Let's go see Bonfire."

Glancing back as we move, I watch the man kneel down with a box of parts beside him as he starts fixing shit on the fly. To his left and right are his trios, working on sections of the wall as well. I'm damn glad I am one of three here with a 6th Sigil. I don't have to do any of that shit; just fight. Oh, and if Johnny ever gets too wounded, I'm to run to Scott and Daymare him. That's my secondary duty, but I hope I never have to do it.

However, as we walk through the fort, heading toward the inner section that has walls above our heads, so many questions arise that I have to ask despite never imagining them before.

"Skyswain? Do your people have live birth or lay eggs?"

The woman halts full-stop, twisting to stare at me.

"What?"

I repeat, assuming she misheard me.

"Do your people lay eggs like birds or give birth like humans?"

The woman's eyes squint at me again, like those of a hawk. Guess that glare runs in the family or something.

"We... that is an odd question. We give live birth, typically two to four at a time, though most chicks die before they mature. Anything else?"

Asking another question, we enter the inner portion of the fortress, the din of the outside gradually falling away.

"So... why didn't I notice anyone pregnant? And why were they? I mean, we've been fighting pretty heavily for a while now. Minimal relaxation."

She sighs but doesn't stop walking this time.

"Bado women don't show their pregnancies outward. Our children come out tiny and malnourished, or they don't come out at all because enemies prefer to kill upcoming parents. As for why Skyyips and Skyhowler are having chicks? This is our life. We Bado always fight. The only difference is we don't have a home anymore."

Her words send the conversation into a depressive mood as I fall quiet. Damn... I didn't think of that. Makes sense, I suppose. Sighing, I stride through the fortified walls of the fortress, my boots echoing against the cold stone floor and joining the footsteps of my forced companions. The scent of gunpowder and the metallic tang of blood suspend in the air, mingling with the sounds of distant gunfire. Someone clearing the battlefield for wounded must have found a hiding Pygmy. Sucks for that bastard.

I glance upward as I enter Bent proper, the inside of the extensive fortress that holds the Wilds at bay. The fort stands as a blatant contrast to the open expanse of the untamed frontier I've expended most of my days in. But I push forward, fueled by my worry for Bonfire. The corridors are crowded with soldiers, their uniforms a stark reminder of the clash happening every few hours just outside these walls.

As we make our way through the winding maze of the fortress, I pass by soldiers on guard duty, their weary eyes mirroring the fatigue etched across their faces. However, I ignore their superficial complaints. These are the lucky ones, simply having to guard the wounded, non-combatants, and such.

The fortress is a convergence of worlds, where the harsh realities of the Wilds meet the disciplined structure of military life. I catch glimpses of men and women in armor conversing in hushed tones, their gazes fixed on maps and battle plans. I even notice Elizabeth and Millie, the Commander, beside them, joining their conversation as they outline strategies. Behind the strategists are Earl and Primrose, the two sleeping on opposite sides of a long table, their heads slumped on the wood. Objects are strewn all over the table near them in mismatched patterns. Lucky bastards.

Forcing myself not to read their emotions from curiosity, I move forward toward the medical tents for the severely wounded that the medics haven't gotten to yet. Two pairs of footsteps follow mine. For a moment, I hear a third but quickly realize it was only a hallucination from lack of sleep.

Finally, I reach the medical cots, canvas walls blocking the entrance to the grand room of medicine. Swiping them across, feeling the stained blood on their surface, I step through. Inside, the scent of antiseptic intermingles with the pained moans of the wounded. The sights and sounds strike a chord within me, reminding me of the horrors left behind by the demons and Pygmies. Not to mention those possessed by the highest God.

I search among the rows of cots, my heart pounding with a mix of anxiety and determination. And there, amidst the injured, I find my friend. Bonfire's face is lined with pain, both physical and emotional, but his eyes light up at the sight of me before flickering to the two behind me. Beside him are Clumsy and Frozen, the two playing a game of Happy Families on Bonfire's end table.

The two wave as my as I step closer, pulling a chair nearby to sit beside Bonfire. The man doesn't speak, instead preferring silence as I do so. It's unlike him.

"You alright?"

A wry smile shoves itself onto his face as he tries to wipe away my worry, but with a subtle Allude, I know the truth.

"Yeah... I'm fine. Just need a few days to get back in action. The doc said Scott can't spare the effort to heal me fast, so I have to take my time with the lesser medics. Unless... you can get Wyatt to spare the Philiam."

With my Ether connecting me to his mind, I feel not pain but a raging inferno of wrath. The fury is so hot that I have to haul myself out not to show it on my face as it physically hurts.

"You... what happened?"

I ask the question I've wanted to know for the past twelve hours as I haven't had the time to find him until now. Bonfire glances to his side, behind Clumsy and Frozen. As they shrug, his gaze lands upon a sitting soldier, one with a gun in his lap.

"I'm not sure. I just know Heath did something to Woody. He went to him to get healed from a gnarly wound, but he didn't come back even after an hour. I went to go find him and found Heath standing over his dead body."

Bonfire then stops momentarily to take a drink, his hands scarred and shaky. All that I hear so far is that it sounds like Heath messed up his medicine. Nothing sounds like murder quite yet. But, the man continues after a slight pause.

"I thought it was an accident for a second, but then, Heath turned around and mocked me. He said that I was worthless for letting a friend die to him. That I should have paid more attention. That I failed to see the truth because of my naivety. That I should have stayed to protect my sister from my drunkard of a dad instead of running. I didn't understand anything besides what he was saying about the fact he killed Woody."

Again he halts, a tremble in his voice stopping him before he forces himself through it. All the while, I'm quiet, even as his knuckles wrap around his cot with a white luster.

"I--... I get angry sometimes. I'm kinda like my dad... and that's why I spend so much time playing games, to keep it all down. But... that... hearing his words... they brought it all up. Speedy's death... Orange's fall... Cigar's death... and then Woody's..."

Bonfire finally stops articulating, his voice trailing off. I wait a moment before saying something, wanting to try and encourage him or make him feel better, but before a word comes out, he turns and looks me in the eye.

"Then... the fire came out. You saw it before at Debrin back in Timberlands a few years ago. You know what it's like. Could... you tell Wyatt I'm sorry? I don't think he took it personally, but I don't want to lose him as well."

My mind flickers to two years ago when I first met Bonfire. One of his old buddies, Speedy, was killed in a bar fight from getting too drunk by a Hunter, and well... Bonfire went scorched earth. He forced himself through the bar, entering it mere minutes after the death, and threw the man against the wall. Regardless of what anyone told him, he ignored it and incinerated the man's head until it was nothing but a skull.

Struggling to, I shake away the memory as I agree to Bonfire's request.

"Of course. I'll speak to Wyatt about it. I'm sure he'll forgive you."

He nods but still comments on it.

"Yeah... but I went blue. The last time I did that..."

I finish his words, marking the time in my head.

"Was against Darkstep, right?"

Bonfire shakes his head, correcting me.

"No. You're thinking of white. My flames have never gone blue before. Not even with Woody, Clumsy, and Cigar's help. I hope he's okay. I have no clue how hot they are since my senses kind of turned off."

Waving him off, I remind him who he's talking about.

"He's fine. Do you really think you can hurt Wyatt? The little fucker took down the Phantom Pain and is being trained by the Unyielding Wall. He's fine, Bonfire."

Emmet nods, his head sinking with a depressive air. I sit quietly for a few moments until Frozen speaks up hesitantly.

"So... are we going to sit here and pout? What about Heath? Aren't we going to get him?"

Bonfire's head rises, acknowledging the idea. I breathe in with a sigh as I imagine him fighting so wounded.

"Of course. I will make him, or whatever took him over, pay the moment I can. People always look down on me, expecting little, even that damned Mother does. They poke the flame but don't expect to get burnt. Otherwise, I'd probably already have an Absolution like Sleepy here."

I don't retort to him as I know exactly what he means. Bonfire has consistently been underestimated, overlooked, or frankly straight-up neglected. Johnny was the first to notice his potential and care for him honestly.

Previous groups I've worked with have ignored my recommendation for him, touting that he is a weak braggart. In reality, he probably could have killed all twelve of us on his own at the time. I have no doubt the Mother Below is the same, refusing to bet against him.

Wait... no. That's not how it works.

That'd be if she overestimated him.

Does She? She must know his potential, expecting him to survive deadly moments and choosing to save her force for a better alternative. Otherwise, he might have gotten an Absolution facing Hura, the Nahullo, Darkstep, or even Wyatt.

But he didn't. Those white, blue, and black flames are all his. None of it comes from an Absolution. I... can't wait until he achieves one. I can only wonder what it will be. Though, I know it will be fire related.

Taking a few moments to think, I nod to Bonfire.

"Go ahead, but let me know when you do. Woody was always a nice guy, even to me. I'll help you get payback."

Bonfire beams at my proposition, and I feel the rage within him simmer momentarily, my sensitivity heightened due to proximity. The man reaches up and offers a hand.

I accept it, yielding a firm handshake that he consummates.

"Together?"

I nod. Rarely have we truly worked together, but the few times we have, it's been... fruitful, to say the least. The pyro simply needs someone to point him in the right direction, and my skills pair well with investigation.

"I'll find him. You burn him."

Emmet Knox smiles as I finally see a hint of what he once was, a cornered city rat, willing to risk it all for a bite of food or a friend in need. I also see a bit of his fabled father, the fire in his eyes blazing with zero remorse. The man bares his teeth as he releases the handshake.

"Of course. To a crisp."