yrael

The others had already run a bit ahead, except for Everett, of course. Bree expected as much from him, steadfast and silent. She shielded her eyes against the aggressive sunlight, still adjusting as they took another couple steps out from the cave mouth. There was splashing of water ahead, the crunch of grass underneath her feet. It was almost like being home.

“Hey Boss, permission to drop in?” Shae shouted, an unceremonious spray of cold water at Bree’s feet announcing that they had no intention of waiting for her answer. Obviously.

“Still not your boss, Shae,” Bree flipped her off, blinking off the last of the light specks in her eyes.

“Well? Are you coming? It’s fucking gorgeous out here!” They said in way of a proper reply.

Bree’s forehead creased in a slight frown. It really was gorgeous. As far as the Spaces they’d been to… well, it was certainly ranked higher than some she could list off the top of her head. They’d exited out onto a small bay of some kind, uninterrupted grass following all the way from the rock behind her until it met soft yellow sand which melted into cerulean water that rippled gently with the droplets from a waterfall. A couple of feet out from where she stood, the ground dropped away to reveal an infinite, light blue-grey sky dotted with floating islands just like the one they were now standing on, above and below them. 

She swung her head around in a quick pass of the surroundings. Everything was lit like a harsh summer day, but she couldn’t quite pick out the source of the light. Whoever had built this place, they’d clearly been aiming for idyllic. Maybe they’d succeeded. It certainly wasn’t enough to calm her nerves.

“You with us, Bree?” Everett’s low rumble startled her out of her meandering thoughts, as if he had heard them.

“Yeah,” She shivered briefly, as if to cast off the ice that had settled in her spine, “Yeah I’m good. Sorry. Lots to think about.”

“Hm,” Everett said, “Should I stop them?” He gestured obliquely at their three companions, two of whom were already neck-deep in the pool, swimming blithely as if they didn’t even notice that the water dropped off into an endless void a couple steps away. Jirina was more tentative, but she was already picking her way in as well.

“No–don’t. Let them enjoy it,” Bree waved away the idea, distractedly, “We all deserve it after… after everything Why don’t you join them, actually.” She tried her best to sound encouraging. It wasn’t exactly the best show, but Everett was a pliable audience.

“No can do,” Everett shook his head, “I keep you safe, that’s the job.”

Bree took another pointed look around them, then gave a halfhearted shrug. “We’ve got visibility for miles here. I think if anything wants to hurt us, we’ll see it coming. Plus, I can handle myself.” She rattled the gun at her belt with one hand.

Everett stayed silent, eyes locked on the horizon in a show of stubborn (and irritating) defiance.

“Look big guy, I appreciate it, but don’t be stupid,” She insisted, “We’re safe. This place is hidden a thousand times over, and no one even knows where we’re headed. Take. A. Break.”

He turned and matched her gaze, finding little give in his charge’s expression. For all his brawn, there was very little quite so unyielding as Bree’s quietly forceful expression. Even with her substantial scarring and muscle gain as of late, she was still hardly an intimidating figure by sight alone, and yet. 

He nodded, tentatively at first as if his muscles didn’t quite agree with his mind yet. All the same, he started towards the water, pulling his scarf tighter against his face even as he started to remove his shirt. Before he made it entirely to the edge of the water, he turned once more to Bree.

“What about you?” He said, “You need a break too.”

Everett was hard to read in the best moments, what with the obscured mouth and all, but in this moment his eyes read plainly as concerned. Behind him, Shae and Vishal had come to a brief lull in their impromptu swimming competition, treading water gently next to a somewhat less uncertain looking Jirina. She seemed to catch wind of this conversation, the bat-like woman glancing in their direction and cocking her head innocently. After a second, she smiled thinly, pink-stained teeth peeking through stress-cracked lips, and gestured for Bree to come sit next to her.

And then behind them even. Standing off to the side, she saw him for a moment. Black curls falling in a mass of tangled waves, hazel-brown eyes set deeply into a near skeletal expression, made more haunting by what looked to be several centuries worth of malnutrition. That and a bullet hole, oozing almost beautifully out of where one of the eyes should have been.

“I’m alright,” Bree managed to choke out the words, “Always work to do. Plus, I’ll be reading. That’s restful.” She wiggled the notebook she’d been clutching for the last couple of weeks, lowering her eyes to the sand as she did so. 

When, a couple of a minutes later, she found the courage to steal another look at her friends, they were swimming blissfully. And he was gone.

Funny how we can be so aware/Of the things that got us there

Her grin cut a gash of light in the dark of the alleyway.

“Now, who does that nice little bracelet belong to?” Fen Kiran said it like she was making idle conversation, cool and collected in a comfortable lean against one of the most putrid dumpsters the City could produce. It was a place that stank of fish and sweat but she looked unbothered, almost pleased.

“No-no, we’re not doin’ this,” the Target was instantly coy. He plunged his hands into his pockets like everyone might just forget what they saw a moment ago, “I ain’t steal nuffin. And-and if I did, it would be my haul, fair and square.”

“Hey now, I’m just curious!” Fen said. In another life, she would’ve been meant for the stage. She pulled up off of the wall in one fluid motion, cut the distance between them in another, drawing one hand innocently into a half-hearted shrug, “I’m no narc, don’t worry. Just love a good story,” She affixed her startling hazel eyes to his, “You wouldn’t deny me a good story, would you?”

He was mesmerized, uncomfortable and yet unmoving all at once. She was a boa constricting prey, and he did not know it but he was already surrounded. Fen drew closer.

“Of course, I could find that story out myself if you just hand it over, right?” She nearly whispered, “Nothing a good Identify couldn’t fix. Why incriminate yourself? Just hand it over…”

“Fen-” Her comm blazed to life sharply and she winced. What the fu-

And then she was stumbling backwards. A spray of red flew through her peripheral vision just a second before the sharp pain in her collarbone announced the blood as hers. Her hand flew to the knife, finding no purchase. The target had already started running.

“Goddamnit, Fen,” Neeon’s voice came across tinny over the connection, “Told ya’ you’d need backup!”

“Clear comms.” Verdin's voice cut any further complaining before it could start, “Cleo, target’s on the move. Visual?”

“I have them”

A good four stories above where Fen was currently cursing every god in the pantheon (plus a couple more), Neeon split her attention towards where she knew the ranger was posted up, a couple of blocks away on the ceiling of a hotel that still came up every time tourists brought up the city, even though the last time it’d had more to offer than bed-bugs and a crappy meal was over a decade ago.

Sure enough, there was Cleo, almost imperceptible and keeping low but moving quick along the ill-maintained rooftops of the Dock Ward, skipping over where they joined like mangled teeth. 

“They are heading towards Adder Street. I’m going to cut them off,” Cleo said, “Neeon, my position. Brick, cover the exit onto Kip.”

“Heard.”

“Heard.”

Neeon was racing. It didn’t matter if she was seen, and stealth wasn’t much her style anyway. She hopped, skipped, somersaulted up and round walls to make up the space between them. In a couple of seconds, she was halfway across the gap. In the same amount of time, Cleo was gone, melted into the surroundings in a way that was almost impressive if she wasn’t such an insufferable cad.

Down by the cobblestones, Brick was looking for something big enough to block an alley with. He had a good number of seconds, but not enough to be clever. Stupid would have to do. One quick glance around - A couple of planters, a some trash bags, a passing cart. 

The twang of a bow and yelp ahead meant even less seconds than he wanted. Fuck it, cart’ll do. 

“M’bad,” He grumbled, then heaved it onto his shoulders, doing his best to ignore the protestations of the original driver. The Target was running up, his other exit blocked by Cleo’s net arrow. He realized his mistake a little late, but soon enough to avoid being crushed.

“Shit, shit!” The cart with the monstrous man was just ahead, that stupid fucking net was blocking Adder St, and there were footsteps coming up behind. Not exactly a lot of great options. 

He didn’t get the chance to choose. The creepy lady from before rounded the bend looking quite a bit less cordial, just as the crumbling of some pebbles and a wall slide deposited a small, tank-topped halfling out in front. With a creak and some mumbled sorrys, the cart moved out from behind too, but he was sure whoever replaced it was worse.

“Cough it up, jackass,” Neeon sat deep into a squat, picking up a dislodged cobblestone and throwing it up and down dramatically, “It’s not worth it. Promise.”

“Fuck you,” the Target went for a gun buried deep in the folds of his pants. It was a long shot. He didn’t even make his waistline.

The children of Sanctuary played within earshot. It was some fuss about heroes and villains, dragons and their slayers. It was timid, and yet so bold. They had never seen such things. She was sure of it. It was her gift to them.

“And what do you think you are doing, young Knight-King Ji-Ji? Stepping into my lair like this?” Ferri’s voice was pitched down in a facsimile of age and gravitas, the barely suppressed smile leaking brightly, “Surely you know this is beyond even you…” 

“Nothing is beyond me! Killin’ big bad lizards is what I do!” Always to the point, Ji-Ji was. Just ten, she didn’t know yet how serious Ferri took his play-acting.

“Lizard? That’s no way to speak to your … murderer!” Ferri growled. The inevitable retort from Jian-Jian was interrupted by the sound of the heavy impact a fourteen year old’s tackle makes. It always went the same way. The scenes never lasted long when they were just an excuse to wrestle.

Aberrant smiled with her teeth. It was a mean-looking thing, strained and bloody as it was, shivering like it was fighting back against something. At least it was honest. And it was the best she could do.

The already ghastly image was further marred by another wave of crimson, shooting out with a barely suppressed cough and dribbling down her chin. It was freshly followed by a wave of furious pain, sitting heavily in the brand at her chest before leaking into her veins, catching in their walls, screaming into her muscles with reckless abandon. Still, she made no sound.

“Argh, it’s not fair!” Ji-Ji managed from underneath a heaping mound of thoughtless boy, “I’m s’posed to be a big warrior king but you’re so much bigger than me.” 

“Oh? And you think the dragon’s are gonna fight fair Ji-Ji?” Ferri laughed unabated, “This is practice.” 

The statement was shortly followed with a sort of strangled yelp, then the elated giggling of victory and a well-deserved raspberry.

“Oh yeah? Well I can be cheap too, idiot,” A small thump quickly elicited another groan from the felled child, “How’s it feel now?”

“Ferrin Ilstedt!” This was Yve now, pounding the pavement so loudly in the children’s direction that Aby could hear them from all the way on the second floor. For a moment, she shivered at the thought of the reprimand, then laughed. It could hardly be worse than this.

Yve is good people. They’re steadfast and unambitious, prone to fits of righteous indignation and teaching fervor. They loathed the outside world more than most, and had a good head on their shoulders to keep the children mostly in line when the weaker passersby needed rest from whatever ailed them. In all, they kept Sanctuary running, just as well as Aby did. It was symbiotic.

But they were an unpleasant cad when provoked.

“How dare you make such a slop in front of the Shrine? You look an absolute disaster, and you’ve sprayed mud all over the walls! Have you learned nothing of respect in your little lives? After all Sanctuary has done for you, this is how you treat us. Unbelievable. I should have you both exiled.” 

There was a beat. Everyone knew when Yve was being overmuch, including themself. That didn’t mean anyone was excited to point it out. Aby was tempted enough to help that she almost began the process of extricating herself from the floor, but another pulse of pain knocked her right back on her ass, eliciting a gasp as the oxygen was forcibly pushed from her lungs.

“But Auntie -” Ferri began.

“Don’t you Auntie me Ilstedt, you will clean this up right now before I go find someone else to do it, otherwise so help me I’ll put you on senior duty so long you’ll need someone to clean out your own bedpan by the time you’re done.”

Before Aberrant could catch her next breath, her mark pulsed again. She felt it sear this time, the smell of burning skin instantaneously lifted into the air, adding to the painful nausea that sat in her bones and made her feel all out of balance. It was a bad episode. Worse than normal. It had been ages since she’d worried she wouldn’t be able to breathe. She gasped desperately, still clutching at her own throat as she did so.

Fuck. They’re going to hear me. It was her own voice screaming silently in her head, begging her body for silence, but the mark would not cooperate. Another wave of pain crashed into the other and she spat, the blood coming up from her throat mingling with the scream from her lungs to create a sad gargled noise. She clutched at the windowsill desperately, nails cracking under the pressure.

She was back in Cyr. The skin under her fingers crackled with strange energy. The nuns looked on with horror. She was sixteen. A black ichor drips from her fingers. The thief who would have killed her convulses violently. His eyes turn to pitch as she watches. She’s eighty, and she begs for her life as her collarbone withers under its magic. She’s thirteen, the blue sparks of a simple mending spell are turning red. She’s thirty-six. She wears a shirt that exposes her collarbone so that the guildmaster can see. She’s marked. She’s poisoned and she is poison. They give her the job. She’s eighteen and she is hungry. She steals to survive. The food spoils in her hands. She’s forty-two. Yve is screaming at the doorway. Yve is placing their hands on her throat, desperately casting a healing spell. Yve is holding her face, making eye contact yelling, Don’t die on me you stupid bitch Sanctuary needs you still, don’t make do this, don’t make me cry, you told me it was fine, I swear to the gods I will bring you to a necro if you die just so I can kill you one more time, please gods Aby I’m begging. 

She’s forty-two. Her lungs clear with hacking cough and spit, Aby clutches her friend close. She mumbles and they cry. She brings them close and she is comforting.

“I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.” Aby croons, “I’m okay, I’m okay. I’ll always be okay.”

“You could’ve- you could’ve died Aberrant, I-” 

“It’ll never kill me, Yve. It’s never killed me.” 

And just like that, she was crying too.

“It's horrid.” 

Mariana half-turned to face her, impish expression smiling bemusedly over her shoulder. Cleo’s companion was stood shortly ahead, proudly grandstanding in front of what might be the creakiest building in The City. It stank of fish and smoke, and only half of the sign was in decent enough shape to light up, turning the already objectionable Widow’s Peak into the even more depressing Wid Pek. 

“What? Too loud?” Mariana flashed a familiar crooked smile at her, “We don’t hafta go inside if you don’t wanna.” 

Cleothonia’s stomach turned at the thought. From outside she could already tell that the number of occupants was easily a fire hazard, that is if the screaming, banging mess that passed for music in these parts didn’t kill them first. It was a tight, cramped deathtrap built for drunk people. That and someone was actively regurgitating the contents of their stomach out onto the front door.

“You wanted to see how I spend my weekends,” Mariana said, “Welp. This is it.” From someone else, it might’ve come across defensive, even ashamed. But the halfling wasn’t easily cowed. In fact, the way she stood with her arms crossed, back to the building was almost challenging. She looked straight at Cleo, unblinking, as if to say, That’s it? Big scary mercenary can’t handle a nightclub?

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m fine! This is just… different.” Cleo blushed, despite herself, “I’m not used to city life yet. Forgive me if I enjoy clean air and quiet.” 

“Do they not have dancing in back in your fancy ass manor?”

“Stop calling it my manor, Mariana. And yes, we did. It was equally unpleasant, I imagine, though for different reasons.” 

Cleo could tell that Mariana’s patience was thinning. The halfing kept drifting her eyes towards people walking past them as she spoke, and the boundless energy she always seemed to be barely able to contain was leaking out through a tapping foot and restless, idle flexing. 

“Whatever you say Eddy,” Mariana rolled her eyes, “You know the way home. I’m gonna enjoy my Saturday.” 

“Stop.” Cleo’s hand shot out with surprising speed, just catching Mariana’s forearm as she began to step away, “I’m going, you twit. And for the last time, don’t call me Eddy.” 

Mariana caught her eyes briefly, a flash of something - was it surprise? - crossing her face for just a moment. Then, she broke into a peal of laughter. 

“Fine. No more Eddy,” She raised her hands up in fake contrition, then extended an upturned palm towards Cleo in a mock bow, “Ahem. Madame Cleothonia Eddel, then, may I ask you to dance?” 

Now it was Cleo’s turn to roll her eyes. She stalked past the idiot’s proffered hand, pushed aside the drunkard still in the midst of soiling the front door, and stepped into the madness.