#dagan pernell

[elementspectrum]

Dagan Pernell

Element: Earth

[elementspectrum]

XXI. When's the last time YOU took care of the biggest bad guy?

The shadow monster dies with a howling shriek, and Tsamba pulls his sword back out of its chest just as it bursts into black smoke and dissipates. Panting, he turns around to survey the rest of the battleground, keeping his blade up in a guard position just in case any more enemies are ready to pounce.

He's met with the sight of victory, however—Vaya cuts down a final shadow beta with her invisible air blades, while Dagan and Keahi work together to stop a fleeing shadow, Dagan pulling up a wall of earth to block its escape while Keahi finishes it off with a jet of flames. The rest of the shadows are either too far off to catch, in full retreat, or already dead. They've won.

"Everyone good?" Vaya calls, and she's met with a round of affirmatives.

"Keahi, let me see your arm," Laki says from where she's taken shelter against an outcrop of rocks. Tsamba's gaze jumps to Keahi immediately as he starts towards Laki, but it only seems he has a long scratch down his left arm—nothing bad, and Tsamba holds in a sigh of relief.

"Hold on," he says, catching movement out of the corner of his eye, "we've got company again."

A massive shadow lumbers over the hill, towering over them all at least three times over. It holds an ugly club, the solid wood stained dark with blood, numerous pieces of jagged metal sticking out all across its surface. The ground trembles with each step it takes, and Tsamba counts five other arms along its torso aside from the one holding the club.

"I'm going to go ahead and say this looks exactly like Aaron and Wes' area of expertise," Dagan says as the giant approaches. "Good luck, guys!"

"Oh come on," Aaron says. Behind him, Wes gives his dual blades a lazy spin. "When's the last time you took care of the biggest bad guy?"

"We are not taking turns," Vaya interrupts dryly. She sizes up the giant for a moment as it lumbers closer with her piercing gaze. "Dagan is right. Aaron, you take point on this. Wes, assist him. The rest of us will run support as much as we can."

"Just stay back out of the way," Aaron says with a sigh, but he's more rueful than annoyed, while Wes lets out a low laugh, "we've got this." Together they launch themselves forward in perfect unison, streaking towards the enemy as blurs.

"I knew you'd come through!" Dagan calls after them with a wave, and Tsamba doesn't think anyone is surprised when he's abruptly tripped by his own shadow two seconds later.

[elementspectrum]

XX. It’s just rain, you’re not going to melt!

It's no surprise when the storm rolls in—dark clouds have been building on the horizon all morning and they've been hiking through the forest to the sound of distant rolling thunder growing louder and closer since noon. Keahi has been watching the patches of sky visible through the trees overhead with trepidation, because it's easier to keep his festering resentment directed at the storm than stew about their overall situation in general.

They've been making as fast of a pace as they can between Wes' condition and exhaustion on everyone's part, but when a bolt of lightning flashes directly overhead followed by a crack of thunder so loud Keahi's ears ring, they come to a huddled stop beneath a tree with particularly thick foliage as the sky opens up and rain begins to fall, going from a drizzle to a downpour in a matter of seconds.

"We can't stop," Tsamba says over the loud sound of the rain, with a there-and-gone apologetic glance in Keahi's direction. "Dagan, let me help Aaron, and you lead the way. Find us a path that isn't slippery."

"Sure," Dagan says. "Aaron, you ready?"

"Yeah." Aaron has let go of his brother for the first time all day to pull his cloak off and give it to Laki but now he returns, sliding up next to his brother again and getting an arm under Wes' to help hold him up.

Dagan and Tsamba switch places, Dagan carefully letting go of Wes' other side and moving aside so Tsamba can step in. Aaron's face remains impassive during the exchange, and Keahi isn't sure Wes even knows where he is right now, let alone that his friends have grimly been playing hot potato with him all day.

"Everyone good?" Tsamba asks once he has a grip on Wes, glancing around at them all. "Laki?"

"He's still stable," Laki reports, the hood of Aaron's cloak already drawn up over her head, but her tired, worried eyes rest on Wes.

"Dagan," Tsamba says, and Dagan heads out into the rain. Tsamba and Aaron follow, supporting Wes between them, and Laki falls into step behind them. Mizu waits for them all to pass, her gaze flickering across each of their faces before she turns around and studies Keahi for a long moment.

"It's just rain," she says at last, more seriously than Keahi has come to expect from her, "you're not going to melt." She turns and follows after Laki.

Grimacing, Keahi doesn't move yet. A few drops of rain have landed on him so far despite the coverage overhead, and each one makes him shudder in disgust. Mizu is right, annoyingly enough—he can survive in rain just fine, of course, and certainly isn't going to melt, but he despises getting wet. The rain is making an already miserable situation even worse, and he can't bring himself to step out into the water, every fiber of his being stiff in protest. He knows how much they need to keep moving, no time for lingering or delay, but the thought of going out into the rain is suddenly viscerally unbearable.

"I'll walk with you," Vaya says, breaking the silence she's maintained for the past three days. She's been withdrawn ever since—ever since, Keahi thinks, and stops the thought right there before he can start to remember the sound of Wes' screams.

"Are you sure?" Keahi asks as Vaya lifts a hand and the air around them stirs, and when she steps out from beneath the tree branches, there's an invisible dome around her repelling the rain. It's a nice trick, but none of them can afford to be burning magical energy right now unless absolutely necessary.

Vaya, however, nods. "It's fine for now when the rain is heavy."

"Thanks," Keahi says, stepping out beside her. Vaya's shield keeps them completely dry. He holds a hand up between them and calls a small flame to life, flickering gently in his palm. "How about some heat in exchange?"

Vaya smiles faintly, but it doesn't reach her eyes, and as they set out after the others, Keahi isn't sure either of them feel the warmth at all.

[elementspectrum]

XIX. Another coin purse?!

"Another coin purse?!" Vaya hisses, and Dagan has the good sense to look properly abashed.

"It was tied with one of my best knots," he protests, "but I was in the market and it was really crowded and...the next thing I knew it was gone," he finishes lamely.

"How many times do I have to tell you," Vaya says, resisting the urge to rub between her eyes, "your knots don't matter when every street urchin carries a pocket knife." She swallows the urge to add you country bumpkin on to the end, though just barely. Dagan gets touchy about his humble roots sometimes, and the last thing she needs is a tantrum from him on top of her other problem. "Where in Light's name is Wes?"

"I thought he was with you," Dagan says, clearly glad for a subject change and a chance perhaps to redirect Vaya's ire.

"And I thought he was with you," Vaya sighs. This was supposed to be a quick in-and-out trip. She'd had no intentions of lingering in this city, but now Dagan's lost a solid third of their funds and she's short a Dark Mage who will only be found precisely when he wants to be found.

"We could retrace our steps?" Dagan offers, but Vaya shakes her head.

"He knew to meet back up here by noon," she answers, "so he'll just have to catch up to us whenever he feels like gracing us with his presence. Let's start heading out."

"I'm sorry about the money," Dagan says quietly as he falls into step beside her. It's like walking next to a beanpole; he towers over her and most of the people they pass too.

"It's alright," Vaya says, holding back another sigh. They'll make it up somewhere. They always do, even though this is the third time Dagan's gotten robbed in broad daylight. Wes carries the majority of what they have, at least, so Vaya's not worried about going hungry yet. "We'll just have to skip staying at an inn tonight."

Before Dagan can answer, Wes materializes out of the shadows of the nearby alley they're passing, stepping into the sunlight abruptly enough several people in the vicinity squint suspiciously at him for a moment. Ignoring them, Wes slides over to join Vaya and Dagan, one hand on the shoulder of a small dirty-faced boy who glares up at them mutinously.

"What's this?" Vaya asks, folding her arms.

"Cough it up before the nice lady hurts us both," Wes advises, and the boy scowls harder but tosses a familiar coin purse at Vaya's feet before he starts to wriggle. Wes lets him go and he's off like a shot, ducking and weaving through the crowds and disappearing from sight.

"How'd you find this?" Dagan asks in amazement, bending to pick up the pouch, and when he opens it a quick glance tells Vaya all the coins are still there.

"Magic," Wes says, and sidesteps neatly out of the way of the elbow Vaya aims at his gut.

[elementspectrum]

XVI. Cry me a river.

"—this is the third time this week you've burnt something of mine on purpose—"

"It's hardly my fault if you keep leaving your shit too close to the fire—"

"—not even getting into the time you destroyed my boots—"

"Do you keep a running list? Light, that's so petty—"

"You're the one who's being petty with this weird vendetta you have against me—"

"Oh cry me a river, you've been playing the victim since day one, like you think I'm just out to get you—"

"Dagan, Keahi, please," Laki tries, for the third or fourth time by Vaya's count, but both of them keep shouting over each other, until Vaya can't even tell what either of them are saying anymore.

"They're going to wake half the countryside," Tsamba says grimly, "and if there are any shadow hives out here we might as well set up a welcome banner."

"Dagan, Keahi, enough!" Vaya barks, because Tsamba is right, but like Laki she's ignored too as Dagan and Keahi circle closer and closer towards each other as if they're seconds away from coming to actual blows. She turns and catches Wes' eye where he stands next to Aaron with his arms folded, both looking on with matching expressionless faces. "Shut them up."

Wes glances at his brother, a split second of wordless communication passing between them, and then they both move, each seeming to take a casual step forward before they turn into twin blurs. Dagan and Keahi are both right up in each other's faces now, so they don't stand a chance when Wes and Aaron slam into them with an audible crunch that makes Tsamba wince and Laki frown. Dagan and Keahi both go flying, knocked several feet apart.

Landing on his back, Keahi is the first to recover and sends out a bright jet of flames in retaliation so hot Vaya can feel it from where she stands a few yards away. Then Aaron is there, slamming a foot into Keahi's chest and crushing him down, swallowing his fire with an icy burst of dark magic, the darkness cutting the fire off and winking out of existence.

"Here's the thing," Wes says idly into the sudden silence, his casual tone all the more chilling for its lack of everything but calm. He mirrors Aaron, standing over Dagan, one boot planted solidly in the middle of Dagan's back. "Neither of you have the control or experience to fight each other without potentially killing each other."

Neither Dagan nor Keahi contest that, but Vaya's not sure either of them have the breath to try, both of them lying still where they're pinned, panting.

"Keahi, when you feel like running yourself into a brick wall, Aaron will oblige," Wes continues, still deathly calm. "He can take anything you try to throw at him."

Above Keahi, Aaron nods.

"Dagan, if you really want to fight," Wes says, "why don't you try me."

There's a heavy silence.

"Just get off me," Dagan mutters at last through gritted teeth. Under Aaron, Keahi pushes ineffectually at Aaron's leg but Aaron doesn't budge, watching his brother. Wes merely looks to Vaya.

"Keahi, quit burning Dagan's things," Vaya says, "and Dagan, quit needling Keahi at every turn. Otherwise I will let Wes and Aaron work you both into dust, and we all know just how much they can make it hurt. Clear?"

"Clear," they both mumble, and at Vaya's nod both Wes and Aaron lift their boots and step back to let them up.

[elementspectrum]

XIV. I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship

“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve seen those two disagree on something,” Dagan says absently, leaning forward on the pommel of his saddle.

“Really?” Aaron asks skeptically, eyebrows raised.

“Are you kidding?” Tsamba says, eyeing Dagan in disbelief. “They argue all the time. They’re just really good at keeping it between themselves.”

“That sounds more like it,” Aaron mutters, leaning forward to pat his horse’s neck as she shifts impatiently.

“Bet you a copper Wes wins,” Keahi says with a conspiratorial grin. He has his parchment out in his lap, and Aaron can see a half-formed sketch of Wes and Vaya as they are now: twenty feet away from them all and dismounted from their horses, heads bent together as they huddle over Vaya’s map and hiss back and forth at each other.

“I think you forgot who wears the pants in this relationship,” Dagan says dryly. “I’ll bet you two that Vaya wins.”

“Oh, stop it,” Laki says, but she’s smiling faintly.

“Sorry, K,” Tsamba says ruefully, “but Dagan’s right. Vaya’s going to win.”

“Come on, Aaron, double down with me,” Keahi urges. “You know Wes will win, right?”

“I’m not so sure,” Aaron says apprehensively. He knows exactly how Wes is, but Vaya has been a surprise: she seems to finally be the unstoppable force to Wes’ immoveable object. “I’m also not so sure you all fully understand just how…” He looks to Laki for help, at a loss.

“Extraordinary?” she offers, understanding at once.

“Extraordinary,” Aaron agrees, nodding his thanks, “these circumstances are to begin with.”

“Wes not usually one for following orders?” Tsamba guesses with a wry smile.

“To say Wes had a problem with authority is like saying water is wet,” Aaron admits.

“He used to drive their training masters mad,” Laki adds, grinning, “and they’d punish poor Aaron along with him.”

“I’ve had to run a lot of extra laps in my life because of him,” Aaron says, and everyone laughs.

“It’s settled then,” Vaya announces, wheeling back around. Behind her Wes rolls his eyes but swings himself back up onto his horse. “Aaron, do you mind going with your brother to scout the road ahead? We’ll catch up with you once we’ve stocked up with supplies in the town.”

Aaron doesn’t even need to look at his brother to know Wes is against going into the town at all, but it seems they’re done arguing and Vaya has in fact won. There’s a soft clink somewhere behind him as Keahi passes Dagan a couple of coins, and Aaron hears Tsamba cough to stifle a laugh.

For his part, Aaron nods and directs his horse to follow Wes’ without complaint, because anyone who his brother deigns to listen to is worthy of his own allegiance as far as he’s concerned.

[elementspectrum]

XI. Do you ever clean your sword?

"Move your feet," Wes says, and Dagan lowers his stick and turns to scowl at him.

"You're not allowed to be critical of my technique when you wouldn't even teach me in the first place," he says, and Wes lifts one shoulder in a half-shrug, unconcerned.

Sitting beside his brother, Aaron snorts softly. He has both of his swords laid out on his lap, wiping them down carefully with a rag and surveying each blade with a critical eye. Across from Dagan, Tsamba lowers his practice stick too.

"I think that's enough for tonight anyway," he says, rolling his right shoulder with a grimace, and Dagan nods in agreement. They've had a long day; they're only going to end up injuring themselves if they try to push it while sparring.

Tsamba tosses his stick aside and joins Wes and Aaron, sinking down beside Aaron and carefully taking his real sword off his belt. Aaron passes him a small vial of oil and Tsamba sets to polishing his sword too, his strokes slow and steady as he runs his rag down the shining blade. Dagan moves over to watch them, and after a moment Aaron even wordlessly hands over one of his blades so Dagan sets to work too, pleased to be included even if he doesn't have a weapon of his own.

"Do you ever clean your swords?" he asks Wes archly, since it's hard not to notice Wes isn't participating at all.

Rising to his feet with a noncommittal hum, Wes pats his brother on the shoulder absently and drifts away from their little circle, moving over to crouch down beside Vaya on the other side of the campfire where she's been pensively re-wrapping the bandages on her arms.

"He's like the damn barn cat we had," Dagan says, and Tsamba laughs.

"Wes only does the bare minimum to take care of his swords," Aaron says, amused. "He'll clean them if they're dirty and he keeps them sharp, but he doesn't polish them every day."

"Which you are not to emulate," Tsamba adds sternly, "when you have a sword of your own. Take good care of your weapon."

"I will, I will, look, I'm practicing right now," Dagan says quickly, turning Aaron's sword over to start on the other side. "But why doesn't Wes care?"

"Pure disinterest," Aaron admits slowly. "He hates fighting, you know. He never wanted to learn in the first place."

"Oh." Dagan hadn't ever considered it. "Suddenly him not wanting anything to do with teaching me makes sense." He'd asked, multiple times, back when it had been just him, Wes, and Vaya. Luckily Tsamba had agreed to start showing him the basics when he'd joined up with them, but Dagan has never been able to figure out why Wes refused. "But he's still really good."

"We didn't have a choice," Aaron says mildly, no bitterness to his voice. "Don't worry, Dagan. If you can master Tsamba's drills, I'll show you both some fancier moves to make up for Wes. I don't mind."

"Sounds like a plan," Tsamba says, interested, and Dagan can't help the thrill of excitement that runs through him at the prospect.

“Deal.”

[elementspectrum]

X. I bet you feel like an artist - VARIATION ONE

It's rare that they're able to rent rooms at an inn. The roads they travel are long, and the end of every day often doesn't leave them near anything remotely like civilization, making camping the norm. But tonight they're lucky, the lights of the town coming into view just as the sun sank beneath the mountains, and even Vaya had agreed they all deserved a night's rest indoors.

"Four rooms," Vaya announces when she comes back. Tsamba doesn't envy the innkeeper who had to endure haggling with her. "Laki and I will share, Wes and Aaron will share," she says, and Tsamba admires how she pretends Laki and Wes won't be switching later on, "and you three can fight over who gets their own room. I'm going to take a bath."

Laki follows her back inside, and Wes and Aaron take off a moment later, exchanging glances and dissolving into shadows on the spot. Tsamba, Keahi, and Dagan are left facing each other just outside the inn's front door.

"It's Tsamba's turn," Dagan admits begrudgingly, because of course he's kept track. "Keahi and I will share. I'll make sure he doesn't burn down the inn again."

"That was in self-defense," Keahi says, but Dagan rolls his eyes.

"Still burned down an entire inn."

"Why don't you take the single tonight, Dagan," Tsamba interjects calmly, and Dagan doesn't need to be convinced.

"Great, thanks, see you guys later," he says, ducking inside as if he thinks Tsamba will change his mind if he lingers, and Keahi gives Tsamba a nudge with a grin.

"You're lucky," Keahi says later in the quiet stillness of their room, where all the rest of the world is far away. There's a lute player downstairs tonight so the gathered crowd is raucous and in high spirits, and more than once Tsamba has heard Dagan's booming laugh, but in here where they are finally alone together, it's peaceful. "I bet you feel like an artist, with your magic. Everything you do is creation. You make things beautiful."

"I thought you were our resident artist," Tsamba answers, smoothing one hand slowly down Keahi's bare back, unsure if the repetition is meant to be more soothing for Keahi or himself. "You're always sketching."

"You know what I mean," Keahi says, rolling onto his side to face Tsamba in the dim light. His eyes are always burning, intense and bright, two tiny fires flickering within them. Not for the first time, Tsamba wonders just how far Keahi is from burning up completely. Will it hurt, when Tsamba steps into the flames too? "Fire only destroys."

Resting his hand on Keahi's flank, Tsamba shifts closer, until their foreheads touch. "Did you know, some seeds will only begin to grow after the ground has been scorched by fire?" he asks, shivering despite how warm Keahi's hands are as they slide up his back. "For them, fire doesn't mean destruction or death. For them—for me—fire means life."