“I told you to be back within two hours,” Remus said, circling around me like a stalking wolf.
“I-I was back within two hours!” I squeaked. “I just left again!”
“After stealing food,” Remus pressed.
“Bently s-said I could have a-as much as I want!”
The back of a fist collided with my stomach, knocking the air out of my lungs. It took everything I had to not double over and collapse.
“Hunters can have as much as they need,” Remus snapped. “Do you think our supply of food is limitless? We have what we have because we earned it, risking our very lives!”
“I-it’s why I’m here sir!” I choke out, standing up as straight as I can manage. “I’m just trying to feed my family, sir!”
“Then you can do so with the money we pay you, brat, and the value of everything you stole today will be cut from that first payment. Is that clear?”
“Yes sir! Sorry sir!”
My team and I were in the courtyard where Remus first spent hours kicking the shit out of me. They were all standing around awkwardly while Remus gave a repeat performance for my food stunt. Well, everyone except Penelope stood around awkwardly. She just seemed bored.
I, meanwhile, am trembling furiously. All that food— all that food— was just for hunters? There’s only thirty-three people in the building! I could feed my family for weeks with what they had in a day! This was absurd! It was unfair! I didn’t deserve this. Not the beating, maybe I deserved that. Just not… this. All this hunter stuff. This was such a huge jump in luxury that I couldn’t comprehend it.
I suppose that most of the people here might not live long enough to see much more of it. That didn’t apply to me, though. I had to live. I didn’t deserve it because I might die, I’m just even more of an undeserving failure if I did die! If that happens, it's all for nothing!
“Now then with that out of the way…” Remus growls. “Today, we’re going to talk about adding Vita to your formation. As I’ve mentioned before, formations are a godsend when things are going right and a liability when they’re going poorly. The point of a formation is to force the monster to fight on your terms, so I shouldn’t have to tell you the best place to put Vita.”
“Right behind me,” Norah says immediately.
“Correct,” Remus agrees, nodding. “She can use that spear to add a little punch to your lackluster offence, but most importantly you can keep her in the middle of the formation, where she can detect ambushes and easily shift to help anyone who needs it. Vita, your first job as a scout is to scout. Your second job as a scout is simply to back up anyone who needs it. You are the weakest member of your team in a fight, but you’re far from useless. Distract, support, and strike as needed, but never stop looking out for threats. Outside the walls, enemies can attack from any direction and they can do so without warning. You are the team’s first and most important line of defense. Do not let your allies get surrounded.”
“Y-Yes sir!” I bark.
“The rest of you all know your business,” he says. “Today, you’ll be in a mock battle against me. Treat me like a monster, but it’s still a mock battle. That means you stick to support and healing, Penelope.”
She tsks, glaring but not arguing. Remus had no weapon, but he was decked out head-to-toe in that giant scale armor, complete with a helmet. There was no chance my spear was getting through that, unless I got a lucky shot to the joints… and I knew that would be luck. I’m nowhere near skilled enough to hit a pinpoint strike on someone moving as fast as Remus, so what the heck was I supposed to do?
I didn't get much time to think about it. Remus sprung towards Norah and snapped out a kick before I even knew what was happening. The whole team was dressed in full combat gear now, and Norah was no exception; she had heavy, full-body armor much like Remus, though hers was made of chitin rather than humongous scales. She had no weapon other than a huge wooden tower shield that she held with both arms. An impact like an explosion rings through the courtyard as Remus's armored boot smashes into the shield, causing her to skid back a bit. I jabbed at him but he was already on the move, retreating from the joyfully aggressive screams that heralded Bently's attempts to cut him off and cut him down.
"Penelope! Hit me with the juice!" he roars happily.
"Already?" she groans, but her hands deftly start to move around in patterns.
That meant... she wasn't natural casting, but casting a learned spell? I suppose that made sense. Lots of mages had natural spell talents and expanded on those innate spells by learning formalized magic. The natural instinct of a born biomancer would no doubt help when learning biomancy spells outside a natural caster's purview. Because there were, indeed, things outside a natural caster's purview; I wouldn't keep being able to go with my gut forever.
An arrow streaks past my head, reminding me that this probably isn't the best time to think about such things. Another enemy...? No, just Orville, apparently unconcerned about keeping my head unperforated. Remus backhands the arrow out of the sky, hammering another kick onto Norah's shield and retreating before I can even think about striking out. I struggle to keep track of Remus's movements, even though I always felt where he is with my soul sense. If only I could predict where he was going to be! Maybe his soul can give me hints…? Gah, that's probably cognimancer stuff. I doubt I’m lucky enough to have that in my bag of tricks.
Still, even if I’m not going to hit him I might force him to dodge at an awkward time and make it a little easier for my teammates. Remus went after Norah over and over, giving me plenty of chances to take jabs at him. Why was he going after Norah, though? Was he just pretending to be a mindless monster? Any intelligent fighter with his superior speed would run past her and attack the backline, so why would he...
My first job as a scout is to scout.
I focus my senses beyond the immediate battle of the courtyard. Just as I feared, two more people were rushing from inside the complex to strike my team from behind...!
"Incoming from the rear!" I shout. "Four o'clock and eight o'clock doors! Contact in five, four, three, two...!"
Two cheerful, large-souled Hunter veterans bust out the doors I indicated, holding huge axes above their heads and roaring like monsters. One each immediately went for Orville and Penelope, but thanks to my callout, Bently was already moving to engage.
"Dunno if I'll make it!" he warned.
"Yes you will," Penelope decreed, finishing her spell.
Bently whooped with excitement, suddenly double-timing it into the fray. His sudden speed surprises the "monster" that had been rushing Penelope, letting Bently knock the man silly. Orville, meanwhile, holds his own, keeping the other assailant at bay... but that left only myself and Norah with Remus.
The instructor pounded mercilessly on Norah's shield, and though she never broke, he was consistently pushing her back. My spear-jabs were little more than an annoyance, and as Remus twisted around to try and strike at me, he forced Norah to exhaust herself rushing about to defend. This wasn't going to last...!
"Bently!" I yell back at him. "We need you on Remus! Swap me!"
"Yes ma'am!" Bently barked, turning around and boosting back my way.
"Wait!" Penelope shouted. "Who's going to protect me?"
"I will! Run towards me!"
I’m already sprinting her way, spear at the ready. The guy Bently had been knocking silly is pretty beat up, but he’s still kicking and clearly way stronger than me. Why was everyone always stronger than me??? Even Orville is doing better in the fight than I am, and he felt weaker!
Doesn't matter. No time to complain. I cross places with Penelope, stabbing at her pursuer using my spear's maximum range. He knocks the strike to the side, forcing me to jump back to avoid a gruesome axe swing. That could have actually killed me...! I don't have the time to gawk at it, though, as it's followed with a kick to my chest that nearly knocks me on my ass.
"You're not going to be much help like this," Penelope complains.
"Then do something about it!" I snap back, forcing the enemy away with another quick jab.
"I am. Just shut up and drop your resistance."
Holy shit, I hate Penelope. I do as she says, though. She's still on my team. Her hand presses on my back, and suddenly, everything snaps into focus. Penelope’s spell flows over me. Orville was blocking an axe swing with his bow to my left. I felt Norah and Bently flank Remus behind me, but I could already tell it wasn't going to work. The axe-wielding "monster" in front of me prepared another downward swing. I should jump ba— no, wait, why jump back? It’s so clear now. I should dodge to the side, take the opening to strike. I do so. My spear catches him in the arm.
"S'agoodspell," I comment, vibrating a little.
"It is, isn't it?" Penelope says smugly, but I've already stabbed the axe guy two more times before she finishes. The damage is superficial, more due to his skill than mine, but he makes a show of dropping his axe and running off anyway.
"GohelpNorah," I suggest, running towards Orville. The two of us together convince the other interloper to flee, leaving the full team clear to focus back on Remus.
Norah looks absolutely exhausted, although Penelope casts something and she immediately stands back up straighter. As Orville's arrows start to fly, Remus actually starts getting pushed back a little!
This was good, right? I get back into position. It was way easier to strike at Remus with Penelope's spell on me. Finally, some progress! Remus was rapidly getting pushed backwards now. His back would be to a wall soon. Our team might win!
No, wait. Don't get cocky. I keep my senses peeled for any incoming reinforcements. ...Nothing. No one else was approaching the courtyard. So what was—
Suddenly, Bently stumbles, his leg dropping into the ground up to his knee. Was that a pitfall trap? Thus immobilized, Remus catches Bently with a roundhouse kick to the head, knocking our team's physical offense out cold.
It all went downhill from there.
I’m still jittery from the spell Penelope cast on me when the fight was declared over and Bently was brought back to consciousness. It was so weird! Everything felt so fast! Yet I can’t stop thinking over and over about how, of all things, Remus swung the match with a tiny, foot-deep hole. Damnit! We were all so close! Or had he been sandbagging? Had this been his plan all along?
As badly as Bently had gotten walloped, I have plenty of my own bruises as well. Remus didn't stop until everyone was beat and broken... though he never hit Penelope. Was she getting special treatment for being a biomancer, or something else...? Either way, it was bullshit.
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"I have certainly seen worse battles from teams as new as yours," Remus declared. "But in the end, your scout failed you. If this had been a real fight, you would all be dead.."
What???
Fucking asshole piece of...! I’d rip his damn soul out!
...No. No, calm down. Calm. Down. Why was he being an asshole? Did he just not like me? Well, he clearly fucking likes Penelope. No, no, no no no. Think. My lower lip starts to quiver a bit, tears starting to well up, but I clamp down on that feeling, hard. I will not cry here. I have gone through way worse shit than this. What's a little bit of humiliation, after what I’ve been through?
"Yes sir," I say, standing as stiffly as I can. "I was overly reliant on my ability. I still need to learn about threats I can't detect, like traps."
Remus takes off his helmet. Maybe it’s my imagination, but I think he’s almost smiling.
"Correct," he says. "You did well at your role up until the end, Vita. But if any one of you does not excel for the entire fight, the whole team dies."
I nod, slowly.
"What... should I have done differently, sir?" I ask. "I'm not any more capable of spotting a hole in the ground than anyone else on the team. I can't help but feel like I want to protest being singled out."
Remus nods.
"Well, certainly it could be argued that the blame is on Bently. But... Vita. What would have happened to you if Norah hadn't been covering you in the first part of the fight?"
I frown. I would have gotten the shit kicked out of me, obviously.
"Your allies covered for your weakness because that was their job," Remus continues, clearly picking up on your expression. "Your job is to spot threats. Should you not be the one excelling in that area, so you can cover for your allies when they are lacking? That is what it means to be part of a team. Do you have any sort of talent to accelerate your growth as a warrior, Vita?"
Well, technically I did. Soul eating made me physically more powerful, and would probably continue to do so. Yet it seems like a dumb idea to bring attention to that.
"No sir, I don't," I lie. "But I can train and become stronger without a special talent!"
He nods.
"That's true. You can and you will. But all your allies will as well, and your allies have a head start, a superior body frame, and exactly the special talents you lack. They will always be covering for you physically. But as you can clearly see..."
He kicks at the ground next to the trap.
"...There's a lot more to surviving than muscle and blade. You are perceptive. You make sharp decisions quickly. Focus on that, and you will be indispensable to your team."
He turns his head.
"Orville. You get too tied up trying to do things on your own. Communicate more with your team. Penelope, you talk too damn much. Focus on your spells, not sassing your teammates. Norah, you need to work on your offense. Get something other than that board to work with. Bently, you're as empty-headed as ever. You need to focus on predicting your opponent, don't just swing at wherever they happen to be standing. Got it? Good. Dismissed."
Remus about-faces and promptly leaves us, giving the team the opportunity to soak in our failures. Norah shakes her head and makes her way to the mess hall; she's sweating like crazy. Penelope makes her way back to our shared room, while the boys stick around. I stand with them, not really feeling like doing much of anything. I’m utterly, completely exhausted and Orville looks much the same. Bently, on the other hand, doesn't look tired in the slightest, presumably because he recently had a concussion-induced nap.
"Predict where they're going to be and swing there? Are you sure that's what Instructor Remus meant, Orville? What if I predict wrong?"
"Then you miss," Orville answers blandly.
"Exactly!" Bently exclaims. "It makes way more sense to swing where they are! If I'm missing, that just means I have to swing faster!"
"Uh-huh. And how many times did you actually hit Instructor Remus?"
Bently scratches his cheek, not meeting Orville's eyes.
"Okay, so I have to swing a lot faster."
"Has anyone ever told you that you're an idiot, Bently?"
I turn away and start to head back to my room. Part of me wants to talk to them, but I’m just not feeling it right now. Unfortunately, Bently spots me leaving and runs up to clap a hand on my shoulder.
"Hey! Vita! I just wanted to say, it's totally not your fault that I stepped in that trap! Remus is just tougher on you because you're so new, I think. He chewed us all out like that when we first joined."
"Yeah," I agree. "Thanks, Bently."
I’d figured that was the case, but knowing it wasn't making it feel any better.
"Also!" he continues, "I think it's really cool how you ran off to give all that food away! I never thought of that, but it's a good idea! I bet my mom would love the bread they bake here! It's too bad we're not allowed to take it home, huh?"
"Yeah," I say again, shrugging his hand off my shoulder. "Well, I'll see you later, Bently. I'm going to go take a nap."
"Oh, of course! Sorry! I'll be sure to be quiet."
He waves goodbye, smiling. I manage to smile a little bit back. Trudging up the stairs, I open the door to my room and step inside. Penelope is there, as I already knew. Soul-sense was useful like that.
"Ah, so the great failure of the mock battle returns," she comments blandly, not looking up from her desk.
It was like turning a faucet. I step in quickly, grab Rosco when I’m sure she's not looking, and leave. I would not cry in there. Not in front of her. Never, never, never.
I let my senses guide me to a room with no one in it, which turns out to be a dusty old storeroom. Fine by me. I close the door behind me, squeeze my friend, and let the water flow. Quietly, oh so quietly, I begin to sob. Waste of water, but I have plenty of water now. It was always easier to hold back tears when the body couldn't make any.
Damnit, damnit, damnit! Why was this so hard? Why did I feel so awful? This shouldn't hurt so bad. My life has been full of worse things than Remus and Penelope and the bruises I get from fake fights where I won't really die. But I tried so hard to win and everything was going right and then...
The tears flowed still, and no amount of telling myself they shouldn't be there was going to stop them. I squeezed my stuffed bird as hard as I could, soaking him with my despair. It was just... so hard. So scary. Why did I have to be born a blasphemy? Why did I have to be my family's hope? Why did it feel like everything I’ve accomplished was going to collapse at any second? I don't deserve this. I’m just a screw-up, a failure, an accident. I should not be here. Yet I have no choice, I have to keep going. What else is there to do?
Eventually, after what feels like forever, the tears stop. I dry my face, give Rosco one last massive squeeze, and return to my room. Penelope is still there, writing away. I tuck my stuffed bird under the covers again, hoping she won't look up. She doesn't. I sit silently on my bed, just me and her in the room.
I hate her so much. Yet I have to make friends with the healer. Lyn said so.
"...What are you writing?" I ask quietly.
"Research notes," she says simply.
"What are you researching?"
She gives a long-suffering sigh.
"If you must know, I'm researching the brain. It's one of the great mysteries of biology."
"...Why's that?" I ask.
She glances at me judgingly, but decides to respond.
"It's too big. Much too big. Yet it's far too big in almost every animal that has a similar bone structure to humans, and even many that don't. We know a few of the things the brain does, and they're certainly important things. It directs the muscles, for example. But so much of the brain just seems to do... nothing. Nothing at all. For a long time it's been theorized that those seemingly useless bits had some function we've failed to discover. I'm trying to find that function by systematically destroying sections of rat brains. By seeing how their behavior differs when they lack certain parts of the organ, we can hopefully gain clues as to what those parts do. Yet they really do seem to do... nothing."
I frown, pointing at the rats with strained souls.
"Those three are dying, though."
Penelope raises an eyebrow.
"Yes. What I'm doing is a delicate operation, and I failed on all three of them. My natural power is particularly suited to precise tissue removal, which makes me a better fit for this kind of study than many far more experienced biomancers. It’s still difficult. This one, though..."
She picks the healthy rat out of the cage, carefully and daintily.
"I've destroyed almost thirty percent of this little one's brain. Nearly the entire frontal lobe. And I can't determine any change in its health or behavior whatsoever. Why? If it was just rats, that could be dismissed as a quirk of nature. But almost every mammal is like this. It's so... strange. What is this part of the body supposed to do?"
"Does the brain correspond to the soul at all?" I ask after a while.
She rolls her eyes, responding in her most condescending tone yet.
"If you had any actual interest in the field whatsoever, you would already know that the prevailing theory is that the unidentified parts of the brain form the communication link between body and soul. This is obviously connected to my research, since I am in the process of potentially disproving it. Now stop acting like you care or understand, and leave me to my work."
Deep breaths. Can’t let her get to me.
"Penelope, come on,” I answer, as calmly as I can muster. “I’ve never heard of any of this stuff, but that doesn’t mean I don’t care. I’m just trying to get to know you and get along with you. I’m trying to be nice! Why do you keep going out of your way to be mean?"
She sighs, still staring at her notes.
"Because you're fake."
"Huh?"
"Why did you feel the need to get along with me, Vita?" Penelope asked. "Is it because you care about who I am? Or is it because you know I’m your healer? Don’t worry, Vita. I know I'm just your magic dispensary, and I will perform adequately at that role to ensure you stay alive and healthy. You don't need to pretend to care about me to get that service, so please feel free to stop."
I swallow, blushing hard. Well, I had been trying to get to know her because she could heal, yeah. Was that really all that bad, though?
“Is that… not how it starts?” I ask quietly. “Am I supposed to care about everyone off the bat? I’m asking because I’m sure there’s a lot more to you that I want to know.”
“Well, if only I could say the same about you.”
I feel tears start to come again, but I hold them in. Never mind. Fuck this girl.
“How come Remus doesn't smack you around like he does for everyone else, anyway? Maybe we could bond over that."
"Because I don't need it, I suspect." She puts the lab rat back in its cage. "If Remus wasn't demanding I babysit you all instead, I could kill him and the rest of you together."
She says this with perfect, serene confidence, like it was no big deal. I frowned, thinking. That’s a bold claim. How would she do it?
"With a disease? Even if Remus is too strong to cast magic on directly, he can still get sick."
"Exactly," she answered, smiling a little. "Your lungs would fill with blood in a manner of seconds. It must be awfully jarring for someone so strong to have so much to fear from a girl my age. Perhaps he doesn’t know how to handle it."
I stared at her, wondering if she really believed that. I think she did. She was too smug about it to be anything but serious. That was... odd to me. Her conclusion didn’t make sense.
"I don’t get it. Our lungs fill with blood. Then what? We'll die eventually, I guess. But will we die immediately? How long would we have, Penelope? Five seconds? Ten? A minute? Have you ever killed somebody before?"
She blinked, momentarily taken aback.
"Well, no. Of course not. I'm not a murderer. I’m merely stating—"
“How many people have tried to kill you?”
“None! Why would anyone—”
"Okay. That explains it. It's not really that simple, Penelope.”
I leaned in, staring very, very intently. If she wanted to act like I had nothing to offer, I’d gladly give her a bit of common sense.
“Without your fingers, you can't heal. Right? You need them for that, because it’s all learned biomancy. Gotta draw your little spells. Your natural talent is disease. Take too long killing us, and we’ll just kill you back. I could break your fingers, Remus could cut them off. Then your life is just a stab to the kidney or a slash to the neck away. Being able to murder isn’t special, Penelope. Remus can do it. I can do it. A six-year-old with a sharp stick can do it if they know how. People die. No one here is afraid of you just because you can end our lives. We trust you not to because you’re smart enough to know the consequences, same as anyone else."
I stared at her, unblinking, as she struggled to respond. Her casual boast couldn't match the conviction in my words. I was serious. If it came down to it, I would kill her. I wish that wasn't the case. I certainly didn't intend to kill her! Yet I knew she couldn't be more wrong. Remus is not afraid of her, and neither am I.
Penelope looked away, turning back to her notes.
"...Well, it's not relevant. As I said, I have no actual desire to harm any of you. I couldn’t tell you why Remus gives me special treatment. I still intend to work with you, regardless of how much you'd apparently enjoy seeing me dismembered. I knew going in that none of you would like me,"
“If you weren’t such a bitch, we would like you! We’re trying!”
She scowls at me for a second, then returns to her notes.
“Leave me alone, Vita.”
I curl up onto my bed. That's probably all I’m going to get out of Penelope today. Honestly, I’m exhausted. I should sleep.
Less than a minute later I'm passed out cold, having forgotten to even get under the covers.