[Skell]
"…Why?" I cast a long shadow across the room as I leaned against the wall beside Soleil. Even as she tossed herself onto a nearby bed, kicking up playful feet and laying cozily on a net of fingers.
"'Why,' what?" she bat innocent lashes at me.
I laughed without a smile. "Where do I start? Why pack the commons with smoke? Why pull me out of there? Why drag me to your dorm room? I can keep going."
Soleil stretched like a cat, sinking further into the mattress. "'Cause I wanted to chat." She studied my eyes. "Hm? Not weighty enough? Should I have said I 'desired to engage in an exchange of verbal correspondence?'"
I'd rather you weld your lips shut… I quit staring at Soleil to glance around her dorm room. Ours were identical, down to the many beds removed alongside the injured applicants who filled them - leaving behind only a ring around the walls. Not like we had the numbers to need them all anymore; neither was anyone raring to sleep in blood-soaked sheets.
Though considering the fight that was gonna break out, maybe that smoke cloud wasn't so bad an idea. Everyone's gonna be bumbling around trying to get their bearings for who-knows-how-long. If she really wants to trade words, she's gone and secured us a few minutes at least.
My eyes returned to hers. She'd been watching me none-too-slyly. "What's with the face?" she asked. "Still sore about my little five-knuckle goodbye?"
I didn't entirely know why I took her hand in the commons. But that same helping hand balled into a fist not long before and drove into my ribs. After her smiling lips spoke poison about Penelle.
"Of course I am. You were begging for worse than a snatch of your collar."
"Was I?" she let her eyes go wide.
"But… you also said some things that made sense. I came into the Ordeals expecting to be buddy-buddy with Niles, and any other takers we came across. That couldn't have been a more spectacular failure. With him, and Penelle. If I'm to win these next two Ordeals… I can't keep relying on people that despise dark mages."
That way, they can't hurt me… and I won't hurt them.
"So ya were listening."
"Despite the crushing pain in my gut. But that's better left in the past. I'm more concerned with whatever this 'chat's' about."
"It's nothing so devious," she sat up and hunched over a knee. "I just want to be friends."
"Friends?" my eyes narrowed. That word had something of a sour connotation, then.
"I know what you're thinkin': 'what's so different between you and everyone else'?" she put on a bone-dry voice.
"I don't sound like that."
"But ask yourself this: In your heart of hearts: d'ya really think I've got a problem with dark mages?"
"You've got plenty issues. Hating dark mages, though?" I shook my head.
"Exactly! I'm sure there's others who aren't so judgmental here…"
She stopped short. The rest came across nevertheless: But none of them would go out of their way to help you like I did.
I closed my eyes, and found the bed across from Soleil to sit on. "You made your point. So what? Wanna have a meet and greet?"
"That ain't a bad way to put it. How can friends be friends if they don't know a lick about each other?"
Friends? Or just a novelty? All that advice still only came from Soleil's mouth because in her mind I'd "make for a fascinatin' Templar". I probably begin and end at an amusement to her.
I ignored the thought. Soleil was questionably sincere at the best of times, but even a vested interest in my success was still to my advantage.
"Then let's get to learning," I got semi-comfortable. "Who were you before the Ordeals?"
Soleil brushed aside her bangs, revealing her usually-hidden eye for a split-second. Of course, it was as flame-orange as the rest of her. "A traveling minstrel."
"You sing?" I almost didn't believe her.
"Like a nightingale," she hummed. "Though that's not all I charge for. I can juggle rings, tell tearful tales, string a lute, balance on a foot - all at the same time, when I'm feelin' inspired. But that's the rub; inspiration ain't easy to come by. That's why I applied to the Ordeals."
"You joined up… to get inspired?"
"Inspiration's a fickle mistress, Skell. Just like yours truly," she flashed a crooked grin. "But don't get me wrong - it's less that I'm lackin' it and more than I want the right kind. Everywhere I went were people foamin' at the mouth for ballads of 'valiant heroes'. I couldn't be further from what they crave. But I sure can plagiarize the Templars for all their worth!"
"Fleecing chronicles from the legendary heroes themselves? Clever," I admitted.
She laughed. "Ya get it!"
"Well, people have taken crazier steps for art. But you realize this Templar business isn't just freelance work, right? You join and you're in for the long haul. And good luck leaving Selem for anything other than an assignment."
Unless your name is Skell and you plan on ditching the Order the second you get what you're here for, of course.
"Psh," she waved a hand. "A stable spot to work? A steady stream of varied escapades to inspire me? A sprawlin' city full of rich types to exploit? I told ya before the preliminaries, being a Templar would be a blast. For all that, I can stomach a couple restrictions."
She's more put together than I thought. Though I can't tell if that's a good thing.
"But I've gabbed enough. Who is Skell?" she uttered my name with faux-reverence.
"What do you wanna know? Who I was before all this?" I led. Of course, with time to think on it, I had a cover story prepared.
"Hm… Are you single?"
I tensed. Why does this feel familiar?
She chuckled. "Just kidding. But I'd prefer something less bog-standard than 'The Unabridged History of Skell'. How's about ya just spout a stanza - one good story speaks volumes. And I bet ya have plenty, thief-chaser."
Well there goes that idea. Abyss, just when I think I've got a handle on her…
"Doubt any story I can weave will be as spellbinding as you're imagining."
"We'll see. There's one I've been dyin' to hear: the reason for this grudge between you and that cute guy."
"What? Hyland?"
"Nah, the other cute one."
"Don't tell me you think Ra'Kol's good-looking."
"Eh, he's got a sort of rugged thing going on. But you can stop stalling - you know who I mean."
"I'm not stalling; there just isn't much to tell. Niles and I used to be friends, he found out I could use dark magic, then he turned into the biggest prick imaginable. Beginning, middle, and end."
"It wouldn't be that he turned into a prick. If he hated ya for something like that, he was always a pecker."
My first move was to agree. But I stopped myself. "…Well, that's the thing. He was kind from the get-go. Genuinely kind. He got me out of a tough spot with the world's worst escort, motivated me, helped me corner that thief, helped save some little girl… even out there in the commons, he argued for the applicants who forfeited. Against Hyland of all people."
And down there, he didn't even move to attack me, did he?
"…So?" Soleil gave a one-armed shrug. "What're you tryin' to say?"
A decent question. So decent, actually, that I couldn't think up an answer. Even for myself. It's not that I despised him any less. But I'd been furious for some time now. That kind of emotion couldn't live forever. And with its old age came the chance to soberly consider everything about Niles.
Like what he told me in the First Ordeal.
"I don't think he's a bad person," I strained to admit. "More than that, I'm positive he's got a reason to think the way he does. We spoke, after I left that cave with the mummies. Something happened to him. Something to paint dark mages in the blackest light. And… urgh, I know it sounds crazy, but a part of me wants to know what."
"Why does it matter?"
I noticed I stared at the ground. Surprise lifted my gaze.
Soleil didn't look displeased. But she didn't smile, either. "Why does it matter what 'reason' he had? The guy pushed ya off a cliff. Turned on ya. Which part about that makes ya think you oughta try understandin' him?"
"I… well…"
"What? Miss being pals?"
"No - of course not! I told you, I'm done trying to be friendly with people like him. I'm done with him. He can die for all I care."
Soleil snickered. Then broke out into full-on laughter.
"What in the Abyss is so funny?"
She glanced at my lips - flattened like hammered steel - and offered a half-hearted attempt at stifling her reaction. "Sorry, sorry," she waved. "It's just, I get you're tryin' to fool yourself, but tryin' to fool me too? With a lie like that? Nice try."
"I'm not lying. He-"
I couldn't even finish the sentence. Soleil - as was becoming an unnerving pattern - was right. I could deny it all I wanted, but deep inside I knew if Niles really was dead to me, I wouldn't consider his past. I wouldn't still be torn up inside about how he crossed me. I wouldn't care.
But I did. Of course I did. Oliver felt like something of a cousin to me, or a little brother. Cynthine - I'd never tell her - felt like something of a nagging mother… in law. Like family. But Niles? He was my first real peer. Same goals, same age - I assumed, and he had a good soul. In an unlife filled with people who despised me, a true friend was worth their weight in gold.
And people don't forget the loss of value like that so easily.
"Fine, you see right through me," I admitted. "Maybe I do miss having a friend I could rely on. So what? Niles did what he did. That can't be taken back."
Soleil crossed her legs. "It matters 'cause you're at a crossroads."
My cocked brows prompted a follow-up.
"I usually charge a fee for advice," she sighed. "Leastwise good advice. So much more interestin' to whisper the wrong words in the right ear and watch the fireworks from a distance. But we're pals now. So this one's on the house."
Surprising authenticity exuded from Soleil's eye. "You're wisin' up, I can tell. It's only been a couple days, but you're different. Eyes are harder, quicker, lookin' out for themselves - as much up here as they were in the Dross." She stood and approached me, pressing fingers against my wary chest. "But there's still the old, naive you in there. It doesn't want to take the last steps. It wants to soften up your back so another knife can slide right through." Her other hand snaked behind and needled me between the ribs. "Don't backslide."
She didn't hurt me. No. Her point was painful enough.
At the end of the day, I could make friends. A priceless treasure. But there was one thing greater: life. And people like Niles? If I let them, they'd be another obstacle in my path to living again.
That couldn't happen. Not when I had the power to clear the way.
Soleil gave a coy smile as she watched me stand. "Ya finally get it, don't ya?"
Something of a smile found itself on mine. Brought on by reassurance. I started to speak.
The door cut me off.
We turned to Hyland and Marley, their forms prowling through the entrance like red-eyed hounds.
"You boys had fun frolicking in the smoke?" Soleil's playful voice flashed a sharp edge.
"Shut up!" Ra'Kol's fur spiked. "I know you were behind it!"
"How'd you figure that out?" she played at skepticism. "By thinking?"
"I made the connection," corrected Hyland, his own fury only slightly more restrained. "Once I did, Ra'Kol's nose could be relied on to follow your scent here."
So it's just these two? Guess what's left of their posse know better than to chase trouble by now.
"Good job." I gave limp applause. "The idiots solved their mystery. Now what? Wasn't your issue with Niles?"
Hyland scoffed. "That moron? Many of his sort have drawn my ire over the years. But none of them quite like you. He can fool around in the commons' smoke for all I care."
"And you know what comes next!" snarled the Ratfolk. "We finish what that harpy put a pause to - me tearin' you apart, you sick mongrel! No more running!"
Run? With Soleil by my side and mana back in my hands? Keep dreaming.
"Harpy?" Soleil cracked her knuckles. "Skell? I'm going to exterminate this rat."
Hyland stepped aside. "Do what you will, woman - I've no quarrel with you. My quarry," his eyes fixed onto mine, "is the dark mage."
"Then come get him!" I clenched my staff and struck it against the floor. "But this hunt will be your last."
The minstrel and ex-Knight charged through the room's open center. They passed one another as if they weren't even there. No words were spared as Hyland closed in. In one moment he drew his sabre. In the next I triggered my Shroud. Then silver flashed down for my collar.
Blade struck staff with an metallic screech. I lifted it overhead to intercept the strike. And there we stood like two steel statues, locked in a duel to overpower the other.
Though behind him, I caught a strange sight: Ra'Kol with a fist around Soleil's neck.
Something inside urged me to help her. Then I felt a leg nearly buckle.
"Eyes over here," Hyland produced a look between smirk and scowl, pointing at his face while pouring his other hand into our clash. "Or are you considering another gutless escape?"
Shade, can't focus on Soleil now!
I set my feet, glaring up at Hyland.
"No more shadows to cower within, no more pillars to cower behind, no more fools you can cower to." Cocky catharsis dripped from his words. "It's only you, me, and death now. We both know you're nothing in direct combat."
The ex-Knight was no weaker or slower than he was in Belza Hill. But all that time he'd spent recovering since was time I'd trained from sunrise to nightfall, nearly twenty-four hours a day, taught by a Templar even more skilled than him. I picked up countless things in that span.
Like how to conquer a superior enemy.
"…Your information's out of date, Hyland," I smiled. "I'm not that weak prey anymore, running and hiding. You should've figured that when I got the drop on you yesterday. But you've always been hardheaded."
Hyland's hand slowly retracted as I pushed back.
"You wanted my focus? Here!" I roared.
Before he could add his other hand to magnify his efforts, I drove him stumbling back. Hyland's incredulous gaze flicked down to his hand, then to me. But the black-haired man didn't quit.
Sabre pounced for my chest. Reflexes pulled me inches aside from the edge. The attack left him wide open; I stomped and capitalized, staff revolving to shatter his jaw.
Hyland's blade lifted just in time. Our weapons collided and the shrill noise exploded in our ears - but he refused to let up. Spinning on a heel, he drove into a flurry of thrusts and jabs like he did in Belza Hill's jail. Back then the maneuver left me riddled with gashes. Today, something occurred to me:
I can stop this.
His first lunge reached for my neck. Soundly deflected, just like I'd been taught. The next went for my staff-arm. A whorl and it was swatted away. Not with ease of course. But it was done.
Impulse seemed to drive him into continuing the assault. But he made an unexpected move. Hyland stopped short. And retreated.
Pride kept his mouth shut as his eyes barely seemed to keep pace with his thoughts. That didn't matter. Everything was jotted plainly over his face:
H-how!? Not only is the undead mightier, but it's skilled enough to stand up to me in guileless combat? Less than two months ago it was pathetic - a weakling! How could it have possibly grown so much, so quickly!?
Leaving him to grapple with his questions was more satisfying than offering answers. Besides, my eyes fell behind him.
Ra'Kol still choked Soleil. Just as Soleil had started strangling Ra'Kol - arms reaching past one another.
Difference was, Soleil still grinned.
A twitching eye came first from the Ratfolk. Then his head tilted back and his body seemed to slink away. She didn't let it. The minstrel's orange-nailed grip was vice-like.
Ra'Kol's other hand snapped to Soleil's arm - more desperate by the second to tear it from his furred throat. Then his first hand gave up and joined her arm too, digging to wedge under her fingers, then when that failed, raking at her skin.
She must've had some Shroud, or trained more than I'd expect, because at first, Ra'Kol's claws cut her flesh as well a butter knife could scar iron. But he kept scraping and shredding as his breaths grew shallower. Urgency sharpened his claws. Eventually there was red.
Bloody slits scored across her arm. Under his struggles, the smallest confidence upturned Ra'Kol's mouth.
"We're usin' weapons, now?" Soleil's eyes issued more amusement than pain.
Then his confidence vanished.
Before Ra'Kol could add more marks to her flesh, Soleil's fist drove right under his ribs. What little breath remained expelled from his lips. And then she was behind him. "You should've said so!"
Her foot crashed into his ankle and he dropped onto a beleaguered knee. He couldn't even regain his bearings before he was strangled again. This time by chains.
Soleil tugged the flail ball high over his head, the interlocking iron attached to it gouging into his throat. "Ever heard the Ballad of the Snared Rat?" she glared down with a dark face and devilish smile.
Ra'Kol reached for her hand; it was too high. He reached for his spear; she tossed it aside first. "Hyland… help… dammit…" His reddened eyes bulged.
Hyland didn't even pretend to hear him. His eyes still tore into mine, clouded by hate and confusion. Emotions that couldn't obscure them forever.
"To the Abyss with it all!" cursed the ex-Knight. "Your newfound might is of no consequence. Even with it, you'll never overcome me!"
Another hand latched onto his sabre, which he'd been wielding one-handed up 'til then. He wouldn't hold back anymore. Deep inside, I knew I wasn't his equal. He'd trained far longer than I'd been sentient; our gap wouldn't close that quickly.
But it had shrunk. Significantly. Enough that - if I pressured him to the point that he couldn't use Radiant Arc - I might just have a chance.
"There once. Was vermin. Most foolish," Soleil sang in swaying rhythm.
Hyland's glare tightened to the world between our feet.
"Drew ire. And blood. Of red."
Ra'Kol struggles slowed; his eyes lost focus.
"But came. Along. A lass."
I slipped a hand behind my back - Hand of Decay on my lips.
"And then. The rat. Was dead."
Her empty hand raised high and clenched halfway - space enough for a lance. Flames ignited in her eyes.
"Pyro Lanc-"
A great wind tunneled throughout the room, sending sheets and hair and focus aflutter. Eyes darted to find the source at the room's center: a swirling cyclone.
And inside its fizzling, unwinding winds stood a certain petite Paladin.
"Everyone! Stop it!" Merriline's high-pitched voice split the tension in half.
Soleil released Ra'Kol and dropped her fist - the embers inside vanishing. The minstrel whistled conspicuously as the Ratfolk fell sputtering and coughing and panting onto his hands and knees. I lowered my staff and incantation, stunned.
"P-Paladin Merriline?" Hyland spun around, sword-arm hesitating. "What are you doing here?"
"Making sure you all don't kill eachother!" replied the woman, face near as red as her armor's crimson accents. "I leave the forfeiting applicants with Val and come back to relax in front of our scrying orb for one measly second, and what do I see? Smoke and swords and songs and- ugh!"
Scrying? I've heard of that before. That's the kind of enchantment that lets you see far-off places without actually being there, isn't it? But then…
"Look," Merriline inhaled a breath thrice the size of her tiny frame, "I get it: everyone's all high-strung because of the First Ordeal - but if Commandant Karthwyn were around… oooh, I don't even wanna imagine it! And- Hyland?"
The ex-Knight blew by her like she was a leaf in the wind, past Soleil and a recovering Ra'Kol, bursting through the door in a rage restrained by the thinnest thread. I wasn't surprised. One moment, a true battle with his nemesis. The next, another interruption. Merriline might've been small and ditzy, but a Paladin was a Paladin. She could pull us apart like a parent would two kids and there was nothing he could do about it… just like in Belza Hill. So he left. It was the only thing he could do not to lash himself out of the Ordeals.
But as it turned out, I was just as incensed. Doubly so when my gaze locked onto her armored wrist. On it hung a slightly-too-big bangle. White, with a familiar button in the center.
"That's how you showed up here," I pointed. "Teleportation. So what in the Abyss were you guys doing!?"
She cocked her head, her own annoyance giving way to increasing confusion.
My eyes narrowed. "This whole time you guys could scry down here to see what's going on, and you could teleport here using a bangle. With those enchantments, why didn't you jump in yesterday when everyone ganged up on me?"
She paused a moment, scratching her round face, before the realization hit it. "Oh, that! Melted doors, shattered lights - I only heard about all the chaos the morning after - me and Val both. Commandant Karthwyn was on scrying duty then; but he had a bad case of the runs when it all went down!"
"The… runs?" I asked.
"Yeah! We can't even scry into the bathrooms, because - well, yuck. But between me and you," said Merriline, "I'm sorry things got messy. Dark mages are all right with me - I always say! Even if some people in the Order whisper bad things about me after I do. But anyway, this fighting's gotta stop! Applicants, dark mages, used-to-be Templars - everybody!"
She turned to Ra'Kol - meekly massaging his neck - and Soleil - innocently kicking around a pebble. "That goes for you two, too! I'm the nice Templar, so I'll let you off with a warning. But next time… there won't be a next time! No more fighting! Not until we let you, anyway."
"Let us?" questioned Soleil.
Merriline's gauntlets clasped to her face. "Oh, uh - forget that! And go on back to your respective dorms! Well? Chop-chop!"
Ra'Kol shot me the dirtiest look imaginable and Soleil one somehow even grimier than that, before stalking over to pick up his spear. "If I had this from the start…" he tried to sound brave.
"It wouldn't have made a difference," promised the minstrel.
He bared teeth, then made for the door, steps still slightly woozy from his drained lungs. But before he left, he turned, ever so slightly. "Don't youse think I didn't notice, harpy. Your scent… this ain't the first time I caught it…"
Then he passed through. Normally I might've questioned his words, but to tell the truth, my mind was far from the present. Merriline's words snuck a new concern into my mind much bigger and more terrifying than anything before. It almost carried me into the hall and beyond. Something held me up first.
I stopped at the doorframe and turned. "Soleil," I approached her. "Your arm."
"Huh?" her wandering eyes found mine. "Oh? This?" she showed off her bloodied arm like it was a new tattoo. "I bleed every month; what's this compared to that?"
"Oh no!" Merriline rushed over. "Here, I can heal you!"
Soleil's perma-smile flattened for a half-second. "No thanks. I'll handle myself."
"Quit acting like you're invincible and let Merriline help. I mean, what are you gonna do? Cauterize it?"
"Not this time," she told me. "I had somethin' else in mind: Rejuvenation."
Golden light sparked into the minstrel's other hand at her sing-song incantation. Healing fingers hovered over her arm and a soothed smile took her face as she saw mine flip into surprise. "Told ya."
"Y-you know light magic?" I asked.
Soleil chuckled. "I dabble."
"Well, if you know your own healing arts…" Merriline shrugged, her alarm winding down. "Still, I'll need you to get rid of all that smoke in the commons."
"Already done," said the minstrel. "Deactivated it when ya got here."
"Good," Merriline nodded solidly. "Then I'll take my leave. And you - shoo!" she told me. "No boys in the girls dorms! I'm watching you!"
"I'm going, I'm going," I took myself away. "But Soleil - take care."
"Psh," she shrugged off my concern. "We'll meet up tomorrow, all right?"
—————————————————————————————————
Thought I had enough enemies to watch out for…
Shade. Looks like I've got one more.
Another sleepless night drew my eyes to the panorama of grooves and crevices along my dorm room's ceiling. When I felt particularly furious at someone over what felt like endless hours of darkness and too-loud snoring, I could almost swear a face appeared above. Niles. Hyland. Ra'Kol.
This time there was a new face: Karthwyn's.
Don't get me wrong; I always hated his wrinkle-plagued mug. But I'd figured up 'til then that while he wanted me to fail - to be his little case study against dark mages becoming Templars - that's where it ended. He'd bet against the horse he didn't like.
Not sabotage it with his own two hands.
Karthwyn takes these Ordeals more seriously than most everything, I bet. You're telling me he couldn't bring this scrying orb with him to the bathroom if he really had the 'runs'? For as long a time as everything played out? Get real. No, he must've known. He could see the animosity build to a boiling point. But he stood aside and let it all play out. Of course he did. Why interrupt it? My forfeiture was exactly to his plans.
…And I can't breathe easy now, either.
My eyes glided from my corner to Yamui's - the swordsman sleeping as if ready to rise from slumber and slit a throat at a moment's notice.
Yamui was the one factor neither of us considered - the factor that both bailed me out… and revealed Karthwyn's hand.
Now I know he's engineering my downfall from behind the scenes. And he won't rest 'til I've failed. Though, whatever he's doing now seems to somehow be more important than the Ordeals. Hopefully it keeps him 'til the end.
If not… these next two Ordeals are gonna be - effectively - impossible.