Mara Venge
Mara rarely slept when they were in the dungeon. She learned the hard way what could happen if you got too relaxed, even somewhere as non-threatening as Dural's dungeon. It was something she wanted the five year old sleeping next to her to learn as quickly as possible, but for all his energy, he was still just a child and children needed more sleep than adults did.
She patted his shock white hair, dirty from the week they'd spent harvesting items to sell, and quietly clicked her tongue at the state of his clothes as the sweet stench of his efforts hit her nose. She had enough trouble getting him to bathe regularly, but after these excursions it was as if he'd never been near water before and she practically had to drown him to get him clean.
When he shifted, she pulled her hand back and let out a quiet sigh of annoyance with herself. It was getting harder to keep herself distant from him. Despite the fact that she'd raised him from a newborn and given him his name, Cohle wasn't hers, he'd never be hers, and it was alarming how frequently she'd needed to remind herself of that the last couple of years.
Control over herself restored, she turned her attention away from his gentle snores and looked over at the party camped out near the small lake. As one of the five Uniques on the continent of Fural, the dungeon was large enough to have something akin to different habitats. The third floor, where they were currently camped, was nearly five miles in diameter and had a large lake in the middle. That made it an ideal rest point as the water was safe to drink once boiled and there were no monsters or beasts to speak of outside of what one would normally find while walking in a forest on the surface.
They weren't shabby, but their gear showed them to be amateurs and their party had a poor balance. Two broadsword users, an archer, and a scout. They clearly weren't here on a mission from the guild as the rules required there to be at least five in a registered party to take on anything official. They were gathered close, backs to one another so they could see in all directions. It was good for party mobility and perimeter watch, so they had that much down at least. Occasionally the scout would catch her eye for a moment before looking away and while that would be normal for most people in separate groups within shouting distance, Mara couldn't help thinking it felt more intentional.
When their small fire went out after a few hours, leaving only enough light to see just a few feet ahead, Mara's alertness went with it and she felt her eyelids grow heavy. They were heading back to the surface in a few hours time, but a collective six hours of sleep over the last seven days had finally caught up to her and she set a mental alarm to wake her in two hours.
Just as she started to feel the weightless pull of sleep, she heard a scrape on the ground and her eyes shot open just in time to roll away from the dagger aimed at her chest while delivering a kick into the ribs of her attacker. A woman grunted in pain, but rolled back to her feet as Mara did the same. Without missing a beat, the woman lunged for the boy as he began to wake.
"ROLL LEFT!" Mara shouted, her voice cutting through the oppressive silence of the dungeon floor.
He did as he was bid, narrowly missing the wild slash, and sprung to his feet. "What's-"
"Shut up and stay behind me!" She snapped, drawing her twin daggers and feeling his red eyes on her as she braced herself for combat.
The scout's other party members were bearing down on them now. The broadsword wielders had perfect teamwork and complimenting their heavy swings was the scout, dodging in and out with her own rapid swings and thrusts. Their archer timed his shots so perfectly that it took all of her concentration to just barely dodge them each time.
"Cohle, head for the down stairs!" She ordered and he instantly obeyed, sprinting as fast as his small legs could take him toward the far end of the floor.
They were near the ascending stairs, meaning Cohle would have to run across its entirety to reach the stairs to the fourth floor. But there was no choice, Mara had to break their formation somehow and she hedged her bet on there being an opening for a counterattack when one of them started pursuing the boy.
To her surprise, however, it wasn't the archer, but the scout who became a shadowy bullet as she sprinted toward him. Channeling her mana to augment her body, Mara withdrew from the swords and arrows with an explosion of speed, lodging one of her daggers into the scout's thigh at the same moment she tackled Cohle away from his would-be murderer. Before she could even recover, she felt a pressure in her throat and slowly reached up to find an arrow stuck in it.
Cohle was horrified and screamed her name, but she pointed and he continued to run, stumbling slightly on a twisted ankle before slowing to a limp. Another arrow hit her in the chest as the scout limped past her. "Fucking bitch."
That was it. That was all the last five years amounted to. Being assassinated by an unknown party in a dungeon. She cursed her luck and looked over at Cohle, cursing him too. If he hadn't been born, then-
He was closer than she realized, and he was getting taller. No, that wasn't right, she had ran to him and was now on her knees looking at his tear streaked face. She'd given him his name, her family name, she'd raised him. He was hers. And she'd be damned if she was going to let anyone take-
Cohle Venge
Something inside him felt like it was pulled dangerously tight as the tip of the dagger was pulled back through Mara's eye. The tall woman kicked her forward, shoving her body onto his, knocking him back. He desperately willed his mind to work, to find a way out of this, but all that was there was fuzz as the woman knelt down, pressing Mara's body onto his with a grunt of pain.
"I'd say it's nothing personal but..." She shrugged. "Do you really care?"
He felt the dagger on his throat and instinctively thrashed, which did her work for her and blood poured onto the dungeon floor. With a chuckle, she pushed herself off the human pile and wiped the dagger on Mara's cloak.
That's when he felt the snap. Suddenly he was more aware than he'd ever felt in his life and understanding flooded into him at a rate he shouldn't have been able to comprehend. Emotions as well, chief among them was rage. His body seemed to know what it had to do as instinct took over for thought and he pushed Mara's body off him, surprised at how light it felt then got to his feet.
He knew the blood flowing from the jagged cut on his neck wasn't life threatening yet and that the woman's guard would be down for just a few more seconds. He blinked and her dagger was in his hand. The jolting in his body from his foot connecting with her chest rattled him to his teeth. She flew away from him and toward the rest of her party, hitting the ground like a ragdoll before her head cracked against a rock he'd tripped over countless times. When she rolled to a stop, he knew she was dead and wondered for a moment if he'd aimed for the rock specifically.
"What the fuck!?" One of them shouted, but Cohle was already drawing down on them, giving himself over fully to his body's instincts.
The dagger flew from his hand, hitting the archer in the center of his forehead. The last two men's swords glowed red as they imbued them with magic. "He fucking awakened!?"
"He's still bleeding from the throat. Keep your guard up." The one to Cohle's left said. "He'll bleed out soon if he keeps up with that speed."
He was right, Cohle was already feeling lightheaded and his vision was blurring. But he had a mission to accomplish and he wouldn't stop until it was complete. He swayed slightly before putting on a burst of speed and driving his fist into the crotch of the man on his right. Ignoring the howls of pain as he fell back, the small boy claimed the heavy sword, oblivious to the obscene weight of it and how it burnt his hands.
"Bring it, kid!" The remaining swordsman growled through gritted teeth.
But before either could move, a dagger pierced through his head and he stared dumbly for a moment before collapsing like he'd had his strings cut. Turning quickly to defend himself against the newest threat, he felt a presence behind him and a blow to the back of his head felt painfully slow as darkness swarmed him, dragging him into its depths.
Two Months Later
"Useless!" The swordswoman, Laine, shouted as she stomped on the curled up five year old. "Bosch,I've had it! We went to Dural to recruit Mara Venge and left with this useless brat! It's like he spent everything he had killing those scrubs and now he's just... here!"
"Like I told you at least fifty times, he didn't awaken." Bosch said in a strained tone, drawing a stone across the edge of his sword. "His demon blood activated. It's what happens in halfbreeds when they're pushed to their limit."
"Blah, blah, blah." Laine muttered, kicking Cohle once more before stomping over to her pack and sitting down on it. "George, go heal the whelp. I think I broke a rib. After that, I want to call a vote."
"For what?" Bosch asked, running the rock down his sword again.
"Whether we dump the kid or keep him around."
Bosch nodded slowly, sliding the sword into its scabbard before turning to look at Cohle. "I may have a better idea. And we could use some live bait that won't argue."
~
He couldn't voice his displeasure if he wanted to. Their mage had done a poor job healing the gash on his throat as well as most of the other wounds he'd sustained over the weeks of traveling with them, and recovering naturally was taking time. He did his best with the tasks Raven's Craw assigned to him, but either his body couldn't keep up with the demand or it simply wasn't feasible for him. It didn't help that they treated him worse than Bosch's dog, barely feeding him and making him keep watch instead of sleeping. So when they strung him up to the branch to lure out a Bastion, a giant ram looking beast, he resigned himself to a fate that he should've embraced in that bleak dungeon.
He thought of Mara as he hung from the branch and fought back the tears building in his eyes on instinct. Anytime he started crying, Laine would lash out at him, so he bit his lip so hard that he could taste copper on his tongue.
"Any minute now. Travis, draw a line across the kid's back. The blood should attract it." He heard Bosch say quietly and moments later, fire sliced deeply across his back from the arrow that sunk into the tree's trunk.
With his hands bound above his head and dangling several feet above the ground, there wasn't anything he could but do emit a weak, raspy cry and flail slightly. He heard Laine giggle before Bosch shushed her. There was a rumbling and the head of the Bastion poked through the branches, sniffing the air before its eyes found the source of the smell.
What the Ravens hadn't accounted for as Cohle looked down, was the blood trickling to the ground. The steady drip in the quiet clearing drew its attention down where it found new prey that looked more satisfying. It roared and charged, as did the Ravens.
All he could do was watch as their plan fell apart once Bosch's head was in the Bastion's mouth. Laine turned to run, but stumbled and her arm was crushed under the two ton behemoth's hoof. Travis fired magic enhanced arrows, but they had little effect on the beast and once it was finished stomping on the swordswoman, it rammed its head into the tree causing Travis' shot to go wide and cut through the rope holding Cohle aloft.
He felt something crunch, but ignored the pain and scrambled back from the scene into the robes of George. He cast a more powerful heal on him than he'd ever done before and shoved him forward in a feeble attempt at creating a distraction before turning and running. Cohle's instinct was to run as well, but the glimmer of a knife caught his eye and another part of his mind told him he'd need it.
Staying close to the ground, he crept toward the blade, crawling under a bush as the Bastion ate noisily. It was just within his reach and he extended his hand for it when another hand grabbed his wrist. "Please..."
Blood pooled around Laine's mouth as she spoke. Only her head and arm remained whole, the rest of her was a bloody, mangled mess. He watched the light fade from her eyes and once her grip on his wrist went slack, snatched the knife and moved as quickly as he could without drawing the attention of the Bastion before sprinting until he collapsed.
"It should've been you." George said, not far from where the boy lay. "It was supposed to be you. You killed them."
He reached into his robe and pulled a wand out, pointing it at Cohle. "We should've left you in that dungeon."
Mana swirled around him and concentrated into the wand, coalescing into a spellform. A moment later, it shattered as a line across George's throat formed. For a moment, the two stared at one another, then his head slowly rolled back and hit the ground a half second before his body. Cohle watched with wide eyes as the Razor Rabbit sniffed the body, then locked eyes with him.
His body moved independent of thought and a blink later, the rabbit's chest was skewered on the knife. Hyperventilating, he dropped the blade and backed away, staring as it twitched twice before falling still. He looked around frantically, but saw no other threats, then fixed his gaze back on the rabbit. His vision blurred again as tear built up and he tried to force them back down, but they wouldn't be stopped.
He wanted to curl into a ball and disappear. To just lay on the forest floor, far from the only home he ever knew, and cease. But he got to his feet and pulled the knife free from the rabbit before walking over to George's body. Sniffling and letting out a whimper occasionally, he rifled through the man's pockets and pulled out another knife, slightly longer and better made, as well as his guild card. If he made it to a city, he'd turn it in to the guildmaster and explain what happened.
Securing his scavenged knives and sliding the card into his pocket, he realized he'd stopped crying. Taking a breath, he looked to the sun overhead and started walking toward it. He had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew he wanted to never feel helpless or be called useless again.
Seven Years Later
Despite it largely fading from memory, the incident with Raven's Craw was still occasionally talked about as a warning to other adventurers on how even the best plans have weak points. For Cohle, it became a months long ordeal. He had to tell his story multiple times, and each time they'd pick it apart. They'd been an up and coming party, destined to reach S-Class within a few years. But now they were all dead and the only one who knew anything about it was an undocumented five year old.
They investigated him thoroughly, determining his status as a halfbreed and having all manner of people from Dural confirm that he had been under the care of Mara Venge. Which led to seemingly never-ending questions about how she met her end. A search was conducted on their home, finding documents that officially named him as her heir and granting him the Venge surname. Something usually reserved for highborn nobles, not halfbreed bastards.
He learned many things concerning his adoptive mother in those months and faced the scorn of many more. He was granted a large sum of money from her guild account, but allowed nothing else but his name. Not even the things from his home. These all went to the cousins and distant relatives as compensation for the mark on their name from crimes that remained unknown to him.
Once everything had been gone over with a comb so fine that not even a grain of sand would escape close scrutiny, he was released. He was allowed to register with the guild, being one of the youngest to ever do so, which gave him access to his funds. He decided not to do much with it, only using what he needed to survive as he listened and learned from any of the men or women willing to entertain him. Not really realizing that he'd decided on his life's path until he was recruited by another party.
Delicate Tremor was led by a woman named Esme, who treated him like a little brother at first. Then showed her true colors by forcing him to do demeaning things for a cheap laugh. Taking it all in stride, they still proved to be a resource he could use to further his knowledge base and experience. But after being forced to lick her feet while on his hands and knees, he wasn't terribly upset when they abandoned him in a dungeon a few weeks later.
Most of his time after that had been spent with a party called High-Guard. They treated him as an equal, not the child of eight he'd been, and gave him a fair cut of their spoils so long as he participated in their acquisition. And for four years, he adventured with them throughout Fural, celebrating with them when they reached Double-S rank. A rarity for parties formed after the Demon Wars.
But as the twelve year old hobbled past the guards to the gate that would take him up to Nym, he thought again about their sudden betrayal. His mind worked hard to find explanations and justifications for their actions, but he continued circling around to one thought.
He let his guard down.
He'd awoken in the dungeon they were sent to clear, tied up and covered in Orc's blood. After vomiting from the smell, he backed himself to a large stone and rubbed his wrists against it until the rope gave then untied his feet. He scanned around the area for his pack, his weapons, or anything of use, but they'd taken it all, including his boots.
At first he was livid with them for leaving him like that, but the anger gave way to self-pity, before acceptance. Regardless of what they had done, he was still in a dungeon and completely vulnerable with a beacon drawing the respawning monsters and beasts to him dried to his skin, making it itch.
It took him a day to make it to the surface, only fighting when he couldn't run, and barely escaping with his life. Covered in injuries, he was still a week's walk to Nym's gate and there was no outpost or city closer. And without his supplies, he had no food or clean water. Anger fueled the initial pace he set through the forest, and it gave him strength to beat back anything that was drawn to him by the Orc's scent. But by the time he made it to the road, he was singularly focused on making it back to Nym.
After stepping through the gate, people stared. Some in disgust, some in shock, but all wrinkled their noses. He was immune to this behavior. He stood out in places like Nym, where they prided themselves on their status, wealth, and, above all, appearance. Only the best for those who lived on the giant, floating islands that peppered the continent. Even when he was well dressed and groomed, being a halfbreed, he stood out. Being a young halfbreed covered in scars, especially the large pale one across his throat, made him a point of interest no matter how many times one saw him.
Bloody footprints trailed on the white stone street as he forced his body to keep moving toward the guild building. Stopping and staring at the three steps before summoning the strength to climb them and walk through the door. The two guards standing nearby sniffed, then turned and drew their swords.
"You can't come in here like that!" One of them yelled. "What business do you have here?"
Cohle could barely get his mind to form the words, let alone his throat. "I'm..." He tried swallowing, but his dehydrated throat rebelled and he coughed, tasting copper before rasping out, "Cohle Venge."
"From High-Guard? He's dead." He squinted. "You got any proof?"
He shook his head. "They took..." He hacked again. "Guildmaster knows me."
"Master Ezael isn't here. He's away at the Capital. So unless you got some way to prove you're the dead kid-" The smaller of the two guards sheathed his sword and took a step closer. "You're stinking up the place."
"Please." Cohle wheezed, his body's desire to collapse was overcoming his will to remain upright.
"Didn't you hear him?" The other guard said, raising a boot and kicking him through the door and to the ground below. "You're stinkin' up the place!"
He heard the door slam as he stared at the sky. With one last frantic thought about how he had nothing and even a glass of water cost money in that city, he summoned his last scap of willpower and pushed his body back to its feet. It rebelled against him and he nearly stumbled into a woman wearing a perfectly white robe. Panic and instinct caused him to jerk away and as he opened his mouth to apologize, everything gave out and he collapsed once more, barely hearing a voice say his name before sinking to unconsciousness.
Derek Indigo
"It would appear that the amount I offered was not sufficient enough to ensure the job be seen through to completion." The pope, a corpulent man named Jessup Rathbone, said with an air of disappointment to the blonde man, tossing a sheet of paper toward him. "And it's now in the custody of a former team member."
"Celestia." Derek sighed, glancing at the letter. "I'll send some men to apprehend the members of High-Guard."
"I'm less worried about some uppity adventurers than I am annoyed at your failure to bring this... creature into our possession. He is a necessary component to our plans, or have you forgotten?"
"No, Holiness."
The pope let out a breath. "I don't know how many years we have left with the mother. She's practically wasted away to nothing and we have very little to show for our efforts. A few minor successes."
"Melody's shown great promise, Holiness."
"She has the benefit of your tutoring and awakening at such an early age to aid her. I'd hardly call that promise." He scoffed, then tapped the letter. "Find out Lightbringer's plans for it. While it's under her protection, we can't go after it directly."
"Yes, Holiness." Derek said, pressing his fist to his chest and lowering his head.
"And Commander Indigo," He said, glaring into the man's blue eyes. "These failures over the last seven years have made me wonder. I don't like wondering. I don't ever want to question your faith again."
"You won't, Holiness." He said, turning and walking from the small office.
A line of Paladins saluted Derek as he had the pope, but he didn't acknowledge them until stopping in front of a smaller one. Her blue eyes glanced up at him from her visor. "Come, Paladin Indigo. It's time for training."
"Yes, Lord Commander." She replied, falling in step behind him.
"How many times have you received the Lord's Blessing?"
"Seven, Lord Commander."
He nodded, turning down a different corridor. Servants and soldiers nodded and saluted as they walked past. "And there's been no revelations since your awakening?"
"None, Lord Commander."
"Disappointing." He sighed, pushing through a door and walking into a gym. "Remove your armor and arm yourself."
She jogged over to a bench, pulling off her helmet and quickly began stripping down to her undershirt and pants before grabbing one of the blunted practice swords. Derek drew his weapon which made her hesitate before stepping onto the wooden arena.
"I want fifteen minutes." He said coldly.
"Y-Yes, Lord Commander."
~
"That was eight, Paladin Indigo." Derek said, watching her get unsteadily to her feet. "Was my order unclear?"
"No, Lord Commander." She slurred, fumbling with the sword.
"We will continue until you either last the fifteen or you're too broken to remain in our service. Is that clear enough, Paladin Indigo?"
She nodded, her eyes blinking slowly while she swayed on the spot. With a sigh, he cast a restorative spell on her. It didn't heal her wounds, but it returned her alertness and clarity.
"I do not go this softly on the others, Melody." He said coldly. "This will be the only assistance you get."
She nodded, adjusting the grip on her sword. "I understand."
"Paladins must be above the common rabble. Their strength comes from their faith. They need no assistance or familial support, they get that from the Lord." He said, adopting the tone of an educator. "Your inability to complete a simple task without assistance tells me you're lacking in faith. If I'm wrong, prove it to me. But if I'm right, I will not be merciful. We've been at this for nearly two hours and I have other things to attend to."
He glanced at the clock, noting the time as she charged forward. Resisting a yawn, he raised his sword and casually deflected her attack before delivering a punch to her stomach. She stumbled back, eyes bulging as she tried to take a breath. He advanced on her, bringing his sword down and steel met steel. Instinctively, he channeled his mana into his weapon and before he could withdraw it, his sword sliced through hers and nearly through her body from shoulder to hip.
Mentally steeling himself for what he'd just done, he saw that she'd managed to step back just far enough that his blade had only cut through her flesh and not her body. It was still a grievous wound, but one he could heal. Which he did, then looked back at the clock. "Fourteen minutes left, Paladin Indigo."
Hector Alabaster
"Why do you insist on embarrassing us? Is it resentment? Do you hate us?" He asked, circling around his youngest daughter. "Or is there some mundane reason for your constant failings and disappointments?"
She couldn't answer, even if she wanted to. It was a trick he used during his time as the king's interrogator. He'd cast Bodybind on them, which allowed him to control every facet of movement, including vocal cords and lungs. Then he'd ask his questions and when they didn't answer, he'd strike. As he did then, driving his mana whip into the girl's already scarred back repeatedly before walking back in front of her. She couldn't feel the pain yet due to the spell, but when he finally released her, he knew she'd likely faint from the pain before ever making a sound.
"You see, Reva, contrary to our desires, you will be attending Lightbringer Academy alongside your sister. But after your outburst today at dinner, your mother and I are hard pressed to find any kind of confidence in that decision." He said, shaking his head in disappointment. "'Too salty'. After the hours of preparation the staff went through to serve us that meal, you had the gall to mumble under your breath that it was too salty. Now, if you had come right out and said it with the confidence of a member of this family, then perhaps we would not be having this discussion."
He kept his face a mask, but smirked inwardly. In fact, if she'd said anything, he would've found reason to punish her. Even if it had been to compliment the meal, he would've picked apart her language. The truth was, since she was born below the standard of magical aptitude that even lowborns have, he'd hated the girl.
She'd been a difficult pregnancy, and though the doctor tried telling them it was because his oldest daughter, Athena, had awakened while still in the womb causing something or other to not work right after Reva was conceived, he didn't buy it. She was simply a failed attempt, and it was too dangerous for his wife to try again despite her youth. Which only brought more embarrassment to them as nobles, even those granted the title by the king, were expected to have multiple children to serve as heirs to their house.
"So, here's what I'm going to do. In lieu of further punishing you this evening, we will instead continue with our little experiment to turn you into something respectable." He continued, noting the fear in her eyes and relishing it privately. "If you do not struggle and manage to maintain your composure this time, we will leave it at two attempts tonight. If you act like a child, then I will continue until you're bleeding from your eyes. Is that understood?"
He dismissed the spell on her and, as expected, she fainted straight away. That suited him just fine as he knelt down and placed his hand on her head. He'd been workshopping a variant of a simple control spell used to tame beasts to rewrite a person's mind entirely instead of just temporarily overwriting their natural instincts and loyalty. His efforts so far were crude and often left Reva infirm for days at a time, but it allowed him to forget she existed and would one day yield the desired results.
Her unconscious body twitched and convulsed as he built and rebuilt the spell, casting it over and over. Blood trickled from her nose after a handful of attempts and he sighed. "No progress this evening, it seems."
Straightening up, he stepped over her and walked through the courtyard, brooding about his failure and going over which parts he would need to focus on the next time. A beautiful, raven haired angel skipped up to him and took his arm. "What's the matter, daddy?"
Athena, his oldest. She was gifted in ways that neither he nor his wife, Angeline, had expected. Unparalleled in everything among her peers, she was set to enter her seventh and final year at Lightbringer and had already received several alluring offers, including one from the king, Echbert Tolstead himself.
"Same as it always is." He said, pulling her closer and taking her hand between his as they walked. "But one day I'll figure it out, not to worry. Papa's a genius, you know."
"If you'd let me help, I'm sure we could-"
"Only I should ever have to endure dealing with that brat's whining. You have your studies and life after school to worry about." He said, patting her hand.
She frowned and he nearly caved, but his will remained strong enough for her to kiss him on the cheek and skip off in the opposite direction of the house. He considered lingering within earshot, just in case Athena managed to rouse Reva long enough to show her how she should be, but seeing his wife glide across the floor to the stairs made him consider more carnal satisfaction and he ascended the steps into his villa.
Melody Indigo
"The halfbreed's name is Cohle Venge." Her brother said without looking up from his screen as he paced. "According to the reports, it has an uncanny gift for perseverance. He's been enrolled in Lightbringer Academy under Celestia Lightbringer's sponsorship, so with that and being a halfbreed with no reported magical ability at a school that produces this country's best mages, he'll have eyes on him."
"I'll find an opportunity." She said crisply, resisting the urge to scratch at the scar on her chest. Her armor was rubbing the barely healed wound raw, but she maintained her posture as her brother continued.
"Incapacitation is paramount. Once he's down, Paladin Green and two others of his choice will arrive within minutes to bind him. We need him alive, Paladin Indigo."
"I won't kill him, but injury may be unavoidable."
"Injuries we can deal with." He muttered, squinting at the screen before shaking his head and looking directly at her. "You'll be in your seventh year there. Try your best to fit in without forgetting your faith and position. We don't want anymore suspicions than we've already got from your enrollment."
"Fit in, Lord Commander?"
A rare smile crossed his face, but was gone the moment it formed. "Act like a seventeen year old, Melody. Do what the others are doing."
She nodded and saluted. "Yes, Lord Commander."
"Your status as a Paladin of the Church is lifted. You're now a citizen of Fural, so you may address me by name."
"Yes, Derek."
"Good. Now, your train leaves in two hours. I've had the things you'll need already sent and there's a change of clothes in your chambers. Leave all but your sword behind after you change."
She saluted a final time and backed out of the office. Paladin Green leaned against the wall, waiting for her. "I'm to accompany you to Veralys."
"Thank you, Paladin Green."
"I'm not here for thanks, I'm here on orders. Hurry and change, I'll be waiting in the courtyard." He said, pushing off the wall and stalking off.
~
"Oh, he's handsome." A girl said, pointing to a boy with white hair.
Melody's eyes narrowed and she had to resist the urge to reach for her sword.
"'Oh, he's handsome'? Really? He's a first year!"
"'He's a first year'? He's a filthy halfbreed, good looking or not."
"He has a surname, though."
"Yeah, from a disgraced family. Not that the Venges were really graced to begin with."
"Don't we have a few of them in our year?"
"Yeah. Thaine and Grace. Wonder how they'll react to their adoptive cousin being at the same school as them."
"About as well as Athena does her sister. Did you hear what she-"
The conversation had steered away from Cohle and onto another familial drama, so Melody tuned it out and busied herself with navigating to the dorm she'd be staying in. She made it a point to pass by the shorter boy tugging at his tie and get a look at his face for confirmation. The pictures she'd seen hadn't been flattering and he was a few years younger. The preteen she saw was absolutely handsome, more so than any halfbreed she'd come across prior. If it weren't for the unfortunate circumstance of his parentage, in a few years he'd likely have women fawning over him.
His hair had been freshly cut, but was absent any product or style. Two scars she guessed had come from a Razor Rabbit's claws ran through his hairline just above his left ear and a thin line ran through the opposite eyebrow. His red eyes and deeply tanned skin made him appear to have been cobbled together from random parts. There was more, but a quick look was all she could afford at the moment without being obvious, so she turned her attention back to her immediate task.
"You're Melody Indigo?" A man said, stepping in her way.
"Yes?"
His smile looked predatory and the next words out of his mouth confirmed it. "I'm thrilled to have the sister of our hero attend our school. I hope you'll find something of value in our curriculum. If you have questions or need anything, please don't hesitate."
She kept her expression neutral as she nodded. There was an unspoken expectation that attention would be called to her, but she hadn't expected it before the official start of the term. A number of eyes were on her and the large nosed teacher, who suddenly had a sour look on his face. "Please excuse me, Miss Indigo." He said, sweeping away.
She turned to watch as he headed for a group surrounding Cohle just as one of the boys took a swing and wound up in a flawless joint lock, pinning his wrist to his back. "Not bad." She mused before feeling her ears burn as the compliment slipped out. She'd have to pray forgiveness for blasphemy later.
"So, you're the kid sister." A new voice said from in front of her.
Resisting the urge to sigh at all the distractions, she looked at the raven haired teen wearing a pristine uniform. "Athena Alabaster." She said, holding her hand out.
"Melody Indigo." She said, reaching to accept it.
"I know." The teen said, letting her hand fall so Melody's closed around nothing. "Anyway, taking a look at you, you don't seem like the sister of the Lord Commander of the Church's Paladins. Besides that, what are you even doing here? I thought Paladins received private educations as part of their training."
"My brother thought it'd be good if I got to have some experiences outside the walls of the Capital's libraries and training yards." She quipped, already tired of the girl in front of her.
"You'll get it here. If we're in the same practical class, let's pair off. I'd like to see what a Paladin's got."
Melody nodded her assent and sidestepped quickly to slip past, eager to relax for a few minutes before starting the whole process over again once the term began.
The Queen of Demons
"Another year gone." The pope said, holding the torch closer to the bars of her cell so that he could get a look. "How many do you suppose we have left?"
She just glared at him until he straightened and looked around the dreary, empty dungeon. "It's been ten years since you stopped speaking Corra. I find myself wondering if you'll have words on the day you finally face the Lord's Judgement. I don't like to wonder."
She wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not that she had the strength to anyway. He lingered for a few minutes more before sighing and walking away taking the only light with him. As the thick, pitch blackness settled back in, she took a breath and cast a spell.
She only had the mana to maintain it for a few seconds, the sum total of two years of work. Her chest hurt as her heart pounded when she saw the boy pulling at a tie before it faded. He'd grown a lot in the two years since she'd last been able to see him. Swallowing the sob building in her throat, she desperately wished the spell had last just a few seconds longer.