Little scene idea I wrote out that I thought would be fun to share!
Grace is trying to make contact with Dauntless and convince him to team up with them! The poor guy is just out there! Living on the streets! Trying to fight crime on his own while dodging capture by the two major political powers (the government and the Delroy gang).
Her new friend (and maybe crush shh shh) is not really on the same page as her.
************
Grace opened her eyes and looked around. She was home, lying in her own bed. Her ribs ached where she remembered the brick hitting her, and her arms and legs felt like jelly. All things considered she had expected to be in worse shape. She shifted her head slightly to see Felix sitting in a chair beside her bed. He was zoned out, staring down at the floor, but looked up when he heard her voice.
“Good morning,” she said in a groggy attempt at humor.
“Oh, thank goodness you're okay!”
Felix practically fell out of the chair and onto his knees next to the bed as he slipped his hand gently into hers.
Grace turned her head fully and gave him a tired smile. He looked like he'd been crying, the poor guy.
“I'm more than okay.” She gave his hand a reassuring squeeze.
“I finally found him.”
“What?”
“Dauntless. He was there in the warehouse with me. He said he'd think about it- about joining us.”
His free hand went up to cover his mouth. After how much he'd tried to convince her it'd never happen, it was nice that he actually had a reaction, but she hadn't expected him to be this upset about it.
He bent over the bed, pressing his face into the mattress.
“I'm so sorry-” he forced through the bedding.
“About not believing me?” Grace asked in confusion. It seemed the only explanation, but she felt like there was something more obvious she was missing that she just could not reach because of her painkiller dulled brain.
He lifted his head but didn't meet her gaze. The wave of remorse seemed to have calmed. “No, no, I- I'm sorry you got hurt.”
“It's not your fault,” she replied softly.
“But I am worried about Dauntless. He was with me when the building went down. Do you think- do you think he's okay?”
“I'm sure he is.” He gave her hand a squeeze in return, still avoiding eye contact.
Grace smiled and shifted her shoulder to a more comfortable position.
She couldn't remember anything between blacking out and waking up again in her bed.
“Felix- how did you guys find me? How did you know where to look?”
Felix sniffed and shook his head. “We didn't. Dauntless brought you home and told us what happened.”
He looked down at their hands resting on the bed, fighting back the tears building in his eye.
“Did he really?” Grace said with a smile.
“I thought you were dead,” he said quietly.
She felt the droplet land on her wrist and he quickly used his other hand to wipe across his face with a muttered apology.
She wasn't sure what to say to that. He was always so calm and reserved. It felt like this reaction had come out of the blue.
Before she could begin to respond he continued.
“Please, Grace, please be more careful.”
He gave her hand another squeeze, then released it and stood. He said softly, “I'm sorry, I need to go blow my nose,” then turned and left the room quickly.
It was only later that it occurred to her to wonder, how had Dauntless known how to find her home?
Rhyin wakes up from a surgery that infused magic into his blood, and he's starting to feel the side effects.
Ketsler rung his hands together for the hundredth time as he threw a look around the room.
He caught Tehvlar’s disapproving frown, but he was too nervous to be able to sit still. Morning was pressing on into afternoon and Rhyin still had not woken up. It wouldn’t be so bad if he had been allowed to sit at his bedside and make sure he was alright, but his uncle had insisted he sit out here with everyone else as he explained the idea of the experiment to the leading masters. It would be impolite of Ketsler not to be there, but whether he was there in body or not he wasn’t there in mind.
He had forgotten to pay attention to what Tehvlar was saying a long time ago, but that didn’t matter all that much since he had already heard all the pros and cons. The method and expected outcome. He had been there when Tehvlar explained it to Rhyin.
All of the High Masters had come, all eyes were on Tehvlar as he stood in the center of the room and spoke of the future and what the success of this experiment would mean to wizard-kind. The masters nodded along slowly, captivated by his firm voice and bold gestures.
With his back to his patient’s room, it was Ketsler who noticed him first as he slipped around the corner and into the doorway of the common room like a shadow. It was Rhyin, but he seemed somehow less than his usual self.
Ketsler leapt from his seat, startling the old lady settled into the chair next to him. Ignoring Tehvlar’s sharp call after him, he half tripped, half ran across the room towards his cousin, checking his speed as he got closer.
Rhyin had a strange faraway look on his face, like he wasn’t quite awake yet and was still dreaming. His gaze swept over everyone in the room until it came to rest on his cousin.
“Good morning, Ketsler,” He said almost reflexively.
“Good morning,” Ketsler replied with a grin as cold relief washed over him. He was alive, awake, talking even! Maybe he was going to be okay after all.
His relief was short-lived as Rhyin’s attention seemed to wane as quickly as it had returned. The wave crashed in the pit of his stomach as he watched Rhyin’s eyes glaze over as some strange tension played about his face.
“Oh you look awful. Rhyin, are you okay?” Ketsler asked, gently prodding his shoulder.
Rhyin only half responded, his eyes slowly coming to meet Ketsler’s gaze. He stared at him intently, eyes full of pain as his mouth slightly parted into a grimace.
Ketlser threw a glance over his shoulder at the room full of people whose eyes were now on them. Tehvlar watched intently, pen poised over his notebook.
“Rhyin,” Ketsler said, leaning close to Rhyin’s face and speaking in a hushed tone so only he could hear. He put his hand firmly on his shoulder and gently shook it, trying to get some kind of response out of him.
“Can you hear me? If you don’t feel well you don’t have to come out here. Rhyin.”
He shook him again a little harder and Rhyin’s eyes snapped to meet his like he had suddenly woken up.
“I think you need to go back to bed.” Kester said gently, turning him back towards the door.
Rhyin put up no resistance.
Ketsler frowned.
He could hear the masters in the room behind them start talking quickly amongst themselves and posing questions to Tehvlar. He pushed away the resentment that nobody seemed to be taking this seriously. Taking Rhyin seriously. As a person, not an experiment.
They only managed to make it a few paces into the hallway before Rhyin came to his senses again. He blinked and looked around, eyes finally resting on Ketsler’s concerned face.
“Sorry I- I really am fine,” He said, hand reaching up to absentmindedly rub at his bandaged arm.
“Just a bit tired.” He looked up again with an unconvincing half-smile.
“You looked totally out of it,” Ketsler said with a frown, one eyebrow arching upwards.
He reached out for Rhyin’s arm and nudged him forwards again. There was a chair on the other end of the hall if they could just make it, but he was becoming increasingly concerned he might end up having to carry him there.
Rhyin followed his lead, carefully shuffling forward.
“You should at least sit down,” Ketsler continued, “It looked like you saw literal ghosts shaking you.”
Rhyin stopped walking and turned his head to squint at Ketsler.
“Do you see ghosts?” He asked flatly.
Alarmed, Ketsler looked around the hallway. He couldn’t see anything out of the ordinary, but there was no telling what the procedure had done to enhance Rhyin’s senses.
“No… do you?”
He looked closely into Rhyin’s face for the answer, but Rhyin only blinked.
He took the next few steps on his own, then eased himself down into the chair against the wall.
Ketsler waited with baited breath until he finally answered like no time had passed.
“No.”
Not comforted by the response, Ketsler walked up to stand next to him.
Partway through settling into the seat Rhyin froze, still leaned partway forward with his head cocked, it looked like like he was listening for something, his eyes focused on nothing that Ketsler could see.
Is he hallucinating? Ketsler wondered, carefully studying the air Rhyin was staring at so intently.
He looked back to his cousin. Tehvlar would want to talk to him and see how he was doing, but Ketsler was becoming increasingly sure that the only place Rhyin belonged right now was tucked in his bed, not sitting here in the hallway for the sake of appearances.
Just as he was making up his mind to carry him up to bed himself, Rhyin woke again. His whole body was still tense, leaning out from the back of the chair, his hands gripping the arm rests until his knuckles turned white. His eyes broke off from nothing and snapped to meet Ketsler’s.
Ketsler got the impression he was asking a question, but what it was and who it was addressed to he could only guess. He waited a moment to see if Rhyin would say anything, then spoke himself.
“You really don’t need to be down here you know,” he said gently, putting his hand on the back of the chair and leaning closer.
Rhyin’s eyes followed him through the motion while his body remained just as rigid as before. “You can go back to bed, nobody is gonna judge you.”
Rhyin looked away, seeming to make a conscious effort to relax.
Loosening his grip on the armrests he slipped himself back into the seat to recline comfortably against the chair back.
“I’ll be okay.” He said in an unconvincing tone.
Ketsler watched him closely, trying to control the worry he knew had made it to his face.
“Rhyin…”
Rhyin seemed to catch on. Stirring himself, he tilted his head to the side, his voice dropping to almost a whisper. Ketsler had to kneel down next to him to catch what he was saying.
“I guess… I never really knew it was so different. I didn’t really realize.”
Ketsler looked him over more closely. He wasn’t quite sure what Rhyin meant, but did this mean the experiment had worked? He had magic? What would that feel like? To suddenly gain access to an entirely new dimension of reality?
“What’s it like?” He asked out loud, settling down on the floor across from him.
“A lot.” Rhyin replied, reaching up to rub at his arm again. He shook his head.
“It kinda burns, but I guess that would be normal to you.”
“Yeah, I guess it would.”
Ketsler looked down at his hands. Burning. He’d never thought of it that way, the tingle and surge he felt through his entire body when he harnessed the power of the inness. It had never hurt though, which was what burning implied. Burning destroys, but using magic? That was when Ketsler felt the most alive.
“How does it not drive you crazy?” Rhyin asked, leaning forwards as his grip tightened on the armrests again.
“What do you mean?” Ketsler said, studying Rhyin’s face carefully.
Maybe… the experiment hadn’t worked, or, maybe having magic really was that different.
“Nothing.” Rhyin replied.
He sat back into the chair like the motion had exhausted him, his arms slipping from the chair’s to flop uselessly into his lap.
“I guess I’m just not very good at having magic.” He finished rather despondently.
Ketsler frowned. “Does it bother you?”
Rhyin was silent for a long time, staring thoughtfully at his hands resting where they had fallen.
“I don’t know, Ketsler,” he finally said. “Maybe I’ve been asleep all my life. Maybe this is what it’s actually like to be alive. Maybe it will get better, I just need to… to catch up to you.”
The old feeling of guilt jolted through his system and Ketsler looked away. It wasn’t fair. They were equals, even if Rhyin didn’t have magic. Even if he never had magic. He hated the fact that magic- something meant to be a blessing- could be twisted into such a curse for the both of them. Maybe Tehvlar was right though, maybe he had found the cure. Maybe… Rhyin could catch up to him.
Rhyin was still staring dejectedly at his hands, and Ketsler realized he probably needed to break him out of whatever moody thoughts he was starting to bury himself in.
“So what’s with the bandage?” He asked, lightly tapping Rhyin’s knee and gesturing to his arm. “Didn’t they use a healing spell?”
Rhyin broke out of his thoughts, shifting his hands to lace his fingers together.
“Father says he used one to seal it closed,” He answered, giving Ketsler a glance before looking back down to his hands. “He said the internal healing should come from my own stores. It burns though.”
Burning again. Ketsler frowned again, nodding slowly. He wanted to do something to make things better- Rhyin seemed so out of sorts and in pain- but he didn’t understand the theory behind the experiment well enough, nor did he want his interference to ruin anything and possibly make Rhyin’s condition worse. Tehvlar was basically inaccessible right now to ask for advice, and there was no telling how much longer he would be engaged in the meeting.
“Did he… give you any instructions?” He asked Rhyin hopefully.
“Not really.” Rhyin shrugged. “Told me not to try anything new without him. And don’t let anyone cast anything on me.”
Ketsler nodded, disappointed. Not much he could really do to help then. Except worry, which it seemed like he was the only person doing.
Rhyin’s gaze shifted to look over Ketsler’s shoulder and down the short hallway to the common room beyond. He only stared for a moment before his eyes glazed over again with that same strange, faraway look.
Ketsler turned to look as well, catching the rising sound of laughter from the room they had left.
He heard his uncle say something polite to calm the crowd, and that helped to somewhat sooth the boiling indignance that anyone could be laughing at a time like this.
He looked back to see Rhyin shift uncomfortably in his seat and frown, eyes still fixed on the masters that could be seen through the doorway.
Master Mylo was asking a question, Ketsler could see, with his wide gestures and loud voice.
Master Liala had the misfortune of being seated next to him; the poor lady was doing her best to avoid being clonked in the head by his waving hands.
Ketsler stood up from the floor, scooting off to the side before rising so he wouldn’t startle Rhyin by the sudden movement.
Rhyin seemed to not notice, however, and continued starting vaguely down the hall even as Ketsler came up beside his chair. He needed to get Rhyin someplace comfortable and quiet so he could rest. If he was this out of it, maybe he wouldn’t mind so much if Ketsler carried him up the stairs? It would be more gentle to float him up, but would that count as casting a spell on him?
He was broken out of his thoughts by Tehvlar striding down the hallway towards them.
He was smiling- beaming almost- and seemed to be emanating his pleasure like a patch of sunlight glowing on the floor.
Ketsler found it comforting that he seemed in such high spirits. Surely that meant everything was going to go well after all, and he was here to take care of Rhyin.
He shifted his position to make more room for him to reach Rhyin, but he came up alongside Ketsler instead and bent to speak softly into his ear.
“Why don’t you take him outside, the fresh air should help him.” He said.
His face had grown more serious but there was still a smile in his eyes. “I’ll talk to him in a bit so we can meet in my study.”
Ketsler nodded dumbly, trying to not let his disappointment show.
Tehvlar didn’t notice, he was already looking back into the room he had come from.
After a quick glance over the scrawled writing on his notebook, he patted Ketsler on the shoulder then gave a nod in Rhyin’s direction.
“It will only take me a half hour to wrap this up, okay?”
He threw a bright smile to both the boys, then turned sharply on his heel and strode back down the hallway.
Ketsler could hear his voice rise with a greeting to the masters as he launched back into the rest of his speech, but he didn’t bother to hear the actual words as he struggled with his own frustration.
He didn’t even look at Rhyin, how did he know he was well enough to go outside?
Rhyin rose from his chair, catching Ketsler’s attention.
Ketsler watched, worried, as he got to his feet, leaning into his arms for balance, his legs trembling unsteady beneath him. He wavered for a moment, looking like a leaf trembling in the breeze.
Ketsler reached out and gripped his arm, worried he might fall.
“Do you need help walking?” He asked as Rhyin looked down at the hand on his arm, confused.
“I-” He took a step, his knees buckling under him but not crumbling, as Ketsler stepped up closer to his side.
“Yeah, I can walk.” He finished.
Ketsler frowned and slipped his shoulder under Rhyin’s arm. Now was not a good time to be stubborn.
“Come on,” Ketsler said, helping him take the first few steps.
“We only have to wait a half hour before Uncle can help you. You can just sit and rest.”
He wasn’t sure which of them he was speaking to more- Rhyin or himself, but Rhyin made no answer. They took the next few steps and made it to the door, Ketsler willing it open with a flick of the eyes. The door swung obediently on its hinges, freed from the latch, and the boys walked slowly out into the bright and beautiful day. The grass was lush underfoot and the sun was warm, but Ketsler found it hard to enjoy with the nagging thought. Was this going to be a mistake?
— — — —
Rhyin joked once they were both seated on the grass that Tehvlar's estimate of a half hour would probably end up being two, and as usual he was correct.
It was an hour and a half before Ketsler saw the masters leave, and another half hour that the boys sat waiting in his study. And the minutes crawled.
Rhyin seemed hardly to notice, drifting in and out of trances, and at one point falling asleep, although he insisted he had only closed his eyes.
Ketsler attempted to move off his extra energy, but no amount of aerial cartwheels seemed to have helped calm his nerves. This entire scenario just felt wrong, despite all Tehvlar had said to soothe him.
He sat on the edge of his uncle’s desk, swinging his legs counter to each other to gently thud on the wooden front in a soothing rhythm.
Rhyin was settled into a padded chair across from him, staring into the fire and occasionally dozing off. It was high summer, but he had muttered something about being cold, so on the fireplace went. Ketsler could tell the room was probably uncomfortably warm by now, but it felt good against the icy air emanating from his body, and Rhyin looked comfortable. If he could only calm his nerves, he could quiet this building storm of ice in his gut and not need the fire to counteract that.
The door opened quite suddenly, flooding the room with light from the hall outside and causing both the boys to startle.
Master Tehvlar slipped into the room with a smile, closing the door softly behind him.
“Hello, boys,” He said, his footsteps muffled by the thick rug that covered the study floor.
“I apologize for keeping you waiting for so long. Ketsler, get off the desk.”
Ketsler slid off the desk without a response, moving to instead stand behind Rhyin’s chair.
“Thank you,” Tehvlar said curtly, picking up one of his old notebooks from the desktop.
He opened the book and began flipping through the pages muttering under his breath, his back to the boys.
Ketsler watched Rhyin’s face as he looked nervously around the room, his gaze lingering on the table tucked into the corner.
Ketsler frowned. The neat rows of unlabeled bottles and cases of equipment had such a sinister feel to them, especially the jar of scissors and knives that glinted in the flickering orange of the firelight. He had not been allowed to be present for the operation, and with a shiver he realized that was probably where it had happened. Rhyin’s hands were no longer fiddling with the edge of his tunic, but sat still and folded in his lap.
“How have you been feeling?” Tehvlar asked suddenly, causing Ketsler to jump again.
Rhyin blinked several times as he answered haltingly, “Alright.”
Tehvlar turned fully around, leaning back against the desk and frowning in disapproval.
“Rhyin, it’s very noble of you to try and shoulder it with no assistance, but that won’t do. I can’t properly take care of you if you lie.”
Rhyin sighed and rubbed his bandaged arm.
Tehvlar waited a moment before speaking again. “So what are you feeling?”
He tilted his head to the side, squinting expectantly at his son.
"It hurts, I guess."
Rhyin made a pathetic attempt at a shrug, his gaze caught on the rug at his father's feet as though he couldn't look away. His eyes widened slightly and Ketsler could hear his breath catch in his throat.
Tehvlar continued as though he did not notice.
"You guess?" He asked, tapping his pen on the side of his notebook. "Think about it, you can give a more clear answer than that."
Rhyin broke his gaze away with a frown and glanced up at his father, quickly looking away again.
"I don't- really know what to call it," he replied haltingly.
Tehvlar leaned forward slightly.
"Does it hurt?"
"Yes," Rhyin replied, but hurried to add to the statement. "but it's not unbearable, I'll be fine."
Ketsler's grip tightened on the back of Rhyin's chair. He was in pain. Surely this wasn't a good thing. Awakening his sleeping magic shouldn't hurt …right?
He knew that being calm and thinking rationally about the situation was the best way to ensure everything went smoothly for Rhyin. That he needed to control his emotions because letting them free in this situation would be selfish.
He bit down on the inside of his lip and clenched the chair harder. He could feel the temperature drop in the air around him, but he focused on taking deliberately normal breaths. He needed to keep calm, for Rhyin.
Tehvlar opened his notebook and shifted to a position more convenient for writing.
"Where are you feeling the most pain?"
Ketsler looked down at Rhyin to see his response, but there was none. His eyes had glazed over, mouth opening in a silent gasp.
Tehvlar stiffened as Rhyin doubled over, clutching the sides of his head.
Ketsler slid around to the front of the chair and began gently shaking Rhyin's knee.
Stay calm, stay calm, if he were in actual danger surely Uncle would intervene.
"Rhyin. Rhyin," he spoke gently but firmly, trying to keep the edge of panic from his tone.
Rhyin was trembling all over, shaking his head slowly from side to side.
Ketsler moved one arm to support his back, the other to his arm.
How much pain must he be in right now?
Tehvlar watched, rigid, as Ketsler continued shaking his shoulder and calling his name.
"Rhyin, please. Please answer me."
Something changed in Rhyin's demeanor, and Ketsler watched as the tension slowly relaxed and he opened his eyes.
"I'm okay," Rhyin mumbled thickly before he was fully recovered.
His eyes came back into focus, meeting Ketsler's gaze as he stared anxiously up at him.
Ketsler could see the pain- fear- still behind his eyes even as he assured him he was alright.
"No, I don't think so," he said gently.
Maybe Tehvlar didn't realize how serious Rhyin's condition was. He had hardly seen him at all since he woke up. He couldn't claim that Rhyin was fine if he didn't understand why Ketsler was worried.
He turned abruptly to face Tehvlar.
"Things like this have been happening all day, though not this bad."
He expected Tehvlar to ask questions to clarify Rhyin's symptoms, but instead he gave no sign he had heard Ketsler speak at all. He continued looking down at his son sadly until he shook his head and turned to write in his notebook again, muttering under his breath.
Ketsler clenched his fists to silence the surge of indignance that crackled up his spine. He had to trust his uncle. Maybe he had heard him, he’d just forgotten to actually answer him again.
Rhyin shifted slightly in the chair.
"I'm jus-" he began, but Ketsler cut him off.
"No listen, we can't help if you keep pretending it's not an issue."
He instantly regretted how sharply he had said that, but Rhyin still seemed unconvinced.
"I was just gon-"
Tehvlar interrupted this time, turning back around to face the boys.
"What was bothering you?" He asked.
Rhyin grimaced, looking at his father without seeming to really be looking at him.
"I don't know." He said. "It's like...the world was screaming."
Ketsler felt the pulse of the air around him. The heartbeat of the planet's core reverberating through the layers of rock and dirt. The ocean pulled in and out from its shores like the air in his lungs came in and out. Particles of water danced in the air around him with the threads of gravity lacing it all together. He wouldn't have thought to describe this sensation as “screaming”. He couldn't even stretch his imagination to describe it as screaming. There had to be something wrong.
Tehvlar was continuing his conversation, regarding his son coolly from the other side of the room.
“How is your arm?” he asked, setting his notebook down on the desktop.
“It’s been stinging,” Rhyin gave it an apprehensive glance as he replied.
How many times did Tehvlar need Rhyin to tell him he was in pain before he would listen?
Tehvlar crossed the space between them and crouched down in front of Rhyin’s chair.
Ketsler slipped out of his path, taking up his place again at the back of the chair.
Gently, Tehvlar unwrapped the bandage around his arm. Ketsler drew in a sharp breath at the sight.
Rhyin’s entire inner forearm reaching up to his elbow looked alive with some kind of vivid infection. The discoloration was reminiscent of a bruise, but unlike a bruise, the veins in his arm stood out vibrant orange against the deep blues and purples.
Tehvlar brushed his fingers over the surface, gaining a wince from Rhyin. He muttered something to himself as he stood, quickly turning to select a small, square jar and a roll of fabric from among a collection of items on his table. He returned, taking the lid off from the bottle as he slipped into a squat again.
Rhyin sat completely still, staring down at his arm almost mesmerized. Ketsler bit down on the edge of his lip.
With two fingers, Tehvlar began spreading the contents of the jar over Rhyin’s arm.
“Have you tried any spells?”
“No, you said not to,” Rhyin replied almost mechanically, tensely watching the pale cream cover over the dark blue.
"Hmm, yes I did. You'll need to sleep more."
Tehvlar wiped his fingers off on the used bandage, then began re-wrapping Rhyin’s arm.
Rhyin made no response after this. His head tilted slightly to the side, his gaze moved from his arm to stare vaguely at the floor at Ketsler’s feet.
“So, something is wrong?” Ketlser ventured. He wished his uncle would be honest with him, instead of brushing him off with half-effort lies.
"Something could be wrong if he doesn't take care of it right. Just like anything else."
He could tell from the tone of his voice that he was pushing Tehvlar’s patience, but that still was not an answer in either direction.
“Did something go wrong?” He pressed. His arm slipped from the back of the chair as he stepped forward.
Tehvlar tied off the end of the bandage and gave Rhyin’s arm a pat before looking up at his nephew with a short sigh.
“Ketsler, calm down. You don’t have to worry, I’m taking care of him.”
Still no definitive answer. The fact that he was dodging the question now that he had actually examined Rhyin was making it clearer and clearer that his intuition was correct, and Rhyin was definitely not okay. Tehvlar said he was taking care of him- but was he? Was he really?
He couldn’t help the look that slipped to his face, but it didn’t matter. Tehvlar was ignoring him again.
He continued talking, but this time it seemed more to himself than to his nephew.
"You're looking for trouble really. He is recovering, of course he is.”
“Are you sure about that?” Ketsler said.
He felt a jolt of red-hot adrenaline from challenging his uncle directly. He didn’t want his anger right now, but it was there just the same.
“From what I’ve seen, ever since he woke up he’s only been getting worse!”
Tehvlar opened his mouth to respond but the words kept tumbling out of Ketsler's mouth.
“You can't tell me I'm wrong, because you didn't see how he was doing hours ago when he first woke up. He's getting worse, and he's in pain! I don't think it worked right-”
Tehvlar cut him off by firmly placing a hand on his shoulder. The look in his eyes was scary, and Ketsler looked away.
“Ketsler, this really is uncalled for. You don't know anything about this process or what is best for Rhyin.”
It had already started. All the emotion he had been keeping in all afternoon was creeping out through the cracks melted by his frustration. Ketsler curled his hands into fists. Snowflakes started in the air around his hair as a molten ball churned in the pit of his stomach.
He knew he'd said enough- he'd already been rebuked twice in this one conversation. But he wasn't done, even if he wasn't brave enough to look his uncle in the eye as he said it.
“I think you should ask Master Thay to look at him. She knows more about healing people than you do.”
He really wasn't sure if the relief of speaking his mind outweighed the horror of realizing what he had said out loud.
The moment of silence from Tehvlar froze over the last of the fire in his chest. He could feel the temperature drop with the rapid swing of his emotions.
“Ketsler. Take a seat.” Tehvlar pointed across the room at the table tucked into the corner.
Ketsler was there a second later, words rushing out of him as quickly as the layer of frost that glazed over the table from his hands clenched onto the edge.
“I'm just really worried, and I think getting a second opinion would be wise! What if he goes to bed and gets even worse after sleeping, or doesn't even wake up again-”
“Ketsler!” Tehvlar said sharply. “That's enough!”
He couldn't stop it. It was spreading faster now, snowflakes collecting in his uncle's hair as the frost raced down the table legs and across the rug.
“I'm sorry, I can't!”
He was sorry. He wished he could gather up the words he'd said and the emotions released with them and shove them back into his chest.
He watched with horror as the ice spreading across the room reached the foot of Rhyin's chair. Rapidly picking up speed with his panic, delicate fingers of frost laced up the wooden chair legs and over Rhyin's ankles.
No, no, no, get it together, Ketsler, calm down!
Rhyin sat motionless, entirely oblivious to the commotion on the other side of the room. He gave no outward reaction as his bare feet glazed over in ice.
Ketsler tried to remember what Master Teth had told him about controlling his breathing, but it wasn't helping. Rhyin was now reaching his hand out into the space in front of him, closing his fist on nothing. He was hallucinating again, and Ketsler was making it worse.
With an exasperated grunt, Tehvlar crossed the room in two quick strides and intercepted Ketsler's view of his cousin.
Taking him by both shoulders, he shook him firmly.
"Calm down, you hear me?” He said in a raised voice.
Gesturing to the room behind him full of swirling snowflakes, he continued.
“How is this going to help at all? Freezing his legs will make it worse."
"Ketsler-"
It was Rhyin, speaking up from the other side of the room. There was an edge of despracy to his tone, but he then continued more even and controlled.
“Ketsler, it's okay. Please unfreeze my feet.”
Relief flooded through his system, causing his anxiety to melt along with the ice and snow hanging in the room.
“Sorry,” he said, his heartbeat still racing. “I was just… worried.”
Rhyin was okay. For now at least.
Tehvlar released his shoulder, turning his back on him to regard Rhyin, giving Ketsler the space he needed to breathe and rub a hand up his forearm.
“Thanks,” Rhyin said. He lifted one foot from the puddle around his chair and shook the excess water off.
"Do you feel better now?” Tehvlar asked him.
"Yeah. Like I said earlier, I really am fine. If anything, I'm dizzy.”
Tehvlar nodded as Rhyin continued in his usual monotone voice, “But I also haven't eaten today. So Ketsler you can stop worrying.”
“I did!” Ketsler objected from his perch.
Rhyin raised an eyebrow at him.
Ketsler frowned and crossed his arms.
"Well okay, but in my defense you said that earlier right before you zoned out.”
He hunched over into himself, hugging his arms against his chest. He hated the queasy feeling in his stomach that was always there when his uncle was angry with him.
"Ketsler, go help him get some soup.”
Ketsler perked up when he heard his name called, but Tehvlar wasn't looking at either of the boys as he spoke. Absentmindedly fidgeting with his hand, he was staring out the window, engaged in his own secret thoughts. He came out of it, giving Ketsler a pointed sidelong look as he continued.
“You can make sure he doesn't trip on something if it makes you feel better.”
Ketsler flinched and nestled his chin between his knees. He had been acting like a fool, actually.
Tehvlar turned suddenly to address Rhyin in his usual stern tone, "After you eat I want you to go back to bed."
"Yes sir.”
Rhyin stood from his chair. Holding his robe close to himself, he stepped carefully across the wet stone floor, making his way towards the door.
Ketsler slipped from his perch and gingerly crossed in front of his uncle to join Rhyin at his side.
Rhyin paused as he opened the door, turning to glance back at his father. Ketsler followed his gaze.
Tehvlar stood before the fireplace, outlined in orange as he watched the flames dance. He was holding his notebook again, rhythmically tapping his pencil across the cover.
Ketsler thought it was odd, as Rhyin pulled the door shut and the two turned to go, that Tehvlar didn't even spare his son a second glance.
This is an unpublished scene from Hopeful Still (part 2)
(this contains spoilers for Ember Falls)
Suddenly, Emma was lifted off the ground from under her arms and lifted upwards into the nearest treetop.
She tried to scream for help, but a hand was placed firmly over her mouth. Her stomach lurched at the abrupt motion as they came to a stop over a large branch. She could tell it was a rabbit now at least, as the orange buck whispered a gentle "shh" into her ear as he settled them back against the tree trunk.
Emma did her best to nod around his grip, then gingerly tried to pry his hand from her muzzle.
He shifted his fingers slightly in a way that made it easier for her to breathe, but that was all he would relinquish.
Before she had much more time to complain about her treatment, a large silver wolf stalked into the clearing below.
This was no wild wolf in tattered rags, but a well kept soldier dressed in armor and gear.
Emma's heart hammered in her chest with the jolt of adrenaline, but the slow, steady breathing of the buck behind her helped ease her tension.
The wolf stood in the space Emma had been just moments before and cautiously sniffed the air.
He seemed still uncertain, but motioned over his shoulder to the shrubbery behind him. Several more armed wolves stepped out from cover.
Emma swallowed heavily and wondered where Heyna and the others were right now. Perhaps whoever this was that had saved her had allies would have helped her friends as well.
There were now over half a dozen wolves in the clearing, and she could hear what sounded like more in the underbrush ahead.
The silver wolf let out a low growl.
"What is it?" The wolf standing nearest him asked uncertainly, cringing in submission.
"I smell rabbit. Fresh,” was the response.
Emma's heart skipped a beat. The buck tensed his grip around her. Please let Heyna be safe.
In answer to their captain, the wolves all lifted their snouts to smell the air again.
Without any further warning, the silver wolf crumpled to the forest floor with a strange gurgling cry, a green-tipped arrow quivering in the ground beside him.
Before the garrison had any time to react, they too were falling under a barrage of arrows from the trees. There came the sounds of a struggle out of sight behind the trees, but very soon that too went quiet. The woods returned to their heavy silence.
Emma swallowed again and tried to look behind her at the rabbit holding her so firmly.
"Apologies, ma'am," he said in a low voice in her ear as he released her. "There wasn't any time for explanations. If you'll excuse me -"
He looped his arm around the branch they were sitting on and swung down, landing neatly on the forest floor below. With his other hand he drew his sword from its sheath, and had its tip at the nearest wolf's throat within seconds of his feet touching the ground.
Emma watched as he went quickly through the clearing ensuring none of the wolves had been missed. Hopefully he realized that really wasn't much of an explanation.
Rather certain the threat was neutralized and not wanting to wait on the mysterious buck's poor communication skills, Emma also climbed out of the tree. There were no lower branches underneath her, and she didn't fancy trying to shimmy backwards in her silken skirts. Getting a firm grip on the branch, she slid off, dangling a moment with her paws several feet off the ground before letting go and landing in a crouch. She dusted the little bits of bark off her palms as she turned to face the clearing again.
The buck strolled up next to her, sheathing his sword.
"All clear!" He said with a smile.
Emma looked him up and down and smiled expectantly in return.
"May I ask to whom I owe the pleasure of this meeting?" She asked, forcing her smile broader.
She was beginning to feel nervous. Nothing in the buck's attire indicated he was a soldier from Blackstone, or even that he was from any citadel at all. He clearly was not allies with the wolves now lying around the clearing, but that didn't necessarily guarantee his alliance with Jupiter's heir.
His dark gray jacket looked like the collar had been ripped off it at some point, and his shirt was unbuttoned around the neck leaving his throat bare.
He held out his hand to shake.
"Percy Redfur, at your service."
Emma shook his hand.
"And the archers?" she asked, "are you their leader?"
"No," he said with a chuckle, "I'm not an archer. They're a group called The Warblers, I asked them to help me as an escort service."
"Escort? Escorting, what?" Emma pressed.
"Rabbits," he said, then added as an afterthought, as though that assisted in clearing up her confusion, "Slaves."
Emma nodded, trying to keep her face from revealing her alarm.
"You're escorting slaves?" she asked, trying to get more information without seeming suspicious.
"Where are you escorting them to?"
The buck tilted his head and looked her up and down.
"You know, I don't know if I want to answer that question, seeing as I don't know who you are. What are you doing out here, ma'am? Can I see your travel papers?"
Emma kept her face a cool mask as her mind scrambled for a response.
"Of course," she nodded her head respectfully, “they're in my bag with the rest of our travel supplies. It should be around here somewhere."
The buck seemed unimpressed.
“You didn't have a bag earlier."
Emma swallowed down the rising sense of panic. She just needed to buy enough time for the rest of her team to arrive, but she was beginning to grow more certain something had happened to them the longer they delayed reuniting with her. Either the wolves or the archers, hidden in the trees around them.
They may be champions, but they were only three rabbits.
"I wasn't the one carrying it, the bag was with my handmaid," Emma said, turning around.
She looked him directly in the eyes.
"You haven't seen her, have you?"
"Maybe."
Emma held her gaze steady in an unspoken challenge that the orange buck cooley returned.
The staredown was interrupted by Jo unceremoniously tumbling out of a tree on the edge of the clearing.
He careened towards them, getting his feet underneath himself and his balance back as he went, placing himself in the space between the two auburn rabbits.
A collection of pine needles was tangled in his fur, although the tree he had dropped out of had not been a pine.
Emma found herself actually impressed at the fierce look he had summoned onto his face.
With his hand curled around his undrawn sword, Jo meant business, although it was Percy who spoke first.
“A handmaid and a bodyguard I see,” he said, taking a step backwards but making no move to his own weapon, “you must be someone rather important, Lady Emma.”
Jo's scowl deepened.
“Why don't you show us your travel papers?” Emma asked.
She needed to take advantage of the disruption caused by Jo’s arrival to regain control of the situation and prevent this from escalating into a sword fight. Jo could shoot a bow like nobody's business, and while he had improved considerably under Helmer’s instruction, she still wanted to make sure they didn't have to rely on Jo's skills with the blade. Surely Cole and Heyna would be arriving soon.
Percy grinned in response to Emma's challenge.
“You know, I like you,” he said.
“Thank you, but you're changing the subject.”
Percy laughed.
“If memory serves, you redirected the conversations first, my lady.”
Jo's shoulders slumped as he rolled his eyes.
“Could you just answer the question?”
“I was going to say ladies first, but since you insist-” he reached into the inside pocket of his jacket and pulled out a folded slip of paper. Smirking, he handed it over.
Emma accepted it coolly as Jo shifted his stance, relaxing just slightly.
Percy sniffed.
The paper was thick and expensive, folded in thirds. An image was stamped on the outside- a swooping falcon wreathed in flame.
Dread building in her stomach, Emma unfolded it to read the contents.
It was… it was an official document, authorization to transport a shipment of slaves from the Red Bleaks to… to *Ackolan*.
“Everything look in order, Miss?” the red buck asked, tilting his head.
It took a great deal of self-control not to sock him in the face, and even more so not to let him see her glare.
“Yes, thank you,” she said curtly, folding it up after she was sure Jo had a chance to read it too.
It was held out for him to take, and the buck slipped it back into his jacket pocket.
He looked at her expectantly for a beat.
“You don't have any travel papers,” he stated dryly, looking at her leavely.
Jo's grip tightened on his sword. Still, Percy made no move towards his own.
Emma stood up straighter. The bluff was up, but she wasn't going down without a fight. One rabbit against two? Maybe he didn't know how to use that sword.
Just then, another archer dropped from the same tree Jo had come from a moment ago.
It was a doe, small enough to be a child, but with the face and demeanor of a well disciplined adult.
Her fur was silver-grey, freckled through with black, white around her muzzle and black around her eyes and ears.
Percy seemed unsurprised by her arrival, and nonchalantly observed her approach.
Surprisingly, Jo seemed unconcerned as well, noting her arrival but immediately turning his glare back on the swordsman.
Emma watched her, tense but unafraid, eyeing the dozens of daggers sheathed on her person, the quiver full of green-tipped arrows. They matched the arrows struck through the bodies of the wolves strewn around the clearing.
“You must be a Warbler,” Emma observed.
“Their captain,” the doe replied, coming to a stop in front of her.
"You must be Princess Emma," she continued in an unemotional tone. "The heir chosen by the lords."
The doe's face was so intense with some kind of barely contained emotion Emma instinctively took a step back, bumping into Percy who was standing behind her.
"*Princess* Emma?" Percy asked, looking down at her with both eyebrows raised.
"Yes," Emma recovered herself quickly and drew herself as straight as possible. "I am the heir."
It was pointless trying to hide it. She could tell that the doe knew.
Something almost broke in the doe's stiff face, but the emotion was quickly hidden as she fell down to one knee, her head bowed.
"Your majesty, I am at your command."
Both Percy and Emma blinked in surprise.
"Oh wait, what am I doing," Percy gasped, quickly joining the doe on the forest floor.
"At your service
Emma curtsied graciously, more confused then anything, but trying not to let it show.
"Thank you. If you would like to do me a service I have several questions I would like answered."
She shot a glance to Percy, just now coming up from his knee.
This scene is around three years old, and was started as a character study/exploration for Grace and her friends to get a feel for how they are involved in Felix’s backstory plot. This is not a scene in the actual story and a lot of the “plot” is not canon, but I thought it would be fun to share with you guys! Enjoy!
Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4
*******
Dinner with Grandma. A very normal family event. Why Grace was taking him to meet her Grandma before her parents was making Felix rather curious, but he had baked a batch of cookies and gone over his alibi in preparation for all the nosy old lady questions. He was nervous, but he was ready.
He had offered to do the driving, but Grace had politely declined. He was still recovering from an accident, she said, and she was happy to drive for him. Felix felt the familiar tinge of guilt at her belief in his lie, but he had shrugged it off with a smile and thanks. Hopefully soon the world would be safe enough for the truth to not be dangerous.
Felix watched the city pass by out the window of Grace's old-fashioned car. He realized, as each turn brought them closer to the more shady parts of town, he really should have asked her where they were going and given the address to someone just in case. Although, if Grace wasn't to be trusted it would be unlikely she'd give him the correct address. Kidnappers aren't known for being particularly honest people. And while he trusted Grace, his agent wasn't going to be happy about this.
The city looked very different here in the outskirt neighborhoods. Instead of the uniform rows of identical houses, exact replicas of each other down to the matching hedges underneath the front window, the homes here were all unique, reflecting the personalities of the people who lived inside. A hodgepodge of shapes and sizes in various states of repair, their roofs were dwarfed by the colossal skyline of the rest of the city behind it. They drove past disheveled apartment complexes, cozy looking cottages tucked behind fairytale gardens, homes of painted wood, plastic homes with their faded colors, metal homes with rusted tin roofs, some that looked inviting while some… that didn't.
He shifted his grip on the arboform tub of cookies in his lap. He could trust her, right?
"Speedbump!" Grace called out cheerfully as the wheels hit a bump of cement in the road.
The little blue vehicle jostled its passengers against their seatbelts as it tumbled itself up and over. Felix was watching the street signs pass by, making careful note of their route so far. It had been a long time since he had last been in this section of the city- on this specific street actually. He wondered who was living in Edward's house now, and if they would have taken down the ridiculous looking flamingo in the front lawn.
Oddly enough, he realized after a moment's thought, it had actually been only a little over two years since it had all started. Strange how much could fit into such a small amount of time.
"Well, here we are," Grace said, gently easing down on the brakes as she turned into a cracked asphalt driveway.
The car shuddered and lurched in protest until it finally came to a stop. Felix made a mental note to remember to take a look at her rotors.
Grace turned the key in the ignition and shot him a grin before jumping out the door. An exceptionally wide grin, Felix thought, as he opened his own door. She must be really excited for me to meet her grandma.
Felix slammed the car door shut and took a look around.
He had been here before, to the house next door. He stood for a moment staring at the faded lawn flamingo with its plastic santa hat. Someone had added sunglasses and drawn a mustache over its beak. That was… weird.
"You coming?" Grace called from halfway up the walk.
"Uh, yeah!"
He caught up to Grace at the front door. She looked *really* happy now, practically bouncing on her heels with excitement.
"I forgot to mention this earlier," She said, overemphasizing her hand gestures. "But Grandma invited over some extended family for a quick goodbye party and because they wanted to meet you too. I hope that's okay?"
Felix tried not to express the sudden twist of apprehension he felt in his stomach. They were Grace's family. He *did* actually want to meet them- maybe with a bit more time to prepare himself- but surely it would be fine.
"Oh yeah, that's fine," he said.
"You sure?" Grace asked, her hand on the doorknob.
"Yeah! A little more warning would be nice, I'm not sure if I'll have enough cookies," Felix laughed nervously. "But I would like to meet your family."
Alarm bells were going off in the back of his head, but he ignored them. If this was an ambush why would she have warned him ahead of time?
"Great!" Grace grinned. "Let me know if you want to leave, sometimes they can be a little much."
Felix grimaced internally and wondered what exactly that meant as Grace turned to knock on the door. Maybe he had enough time to text the address to his mom, but it was already too late. Grace had skipped the knocking step altogether. She punched a four-digit code into the lock- too fast for Felix to catch the combination- and threw the heavy front door open.
"We're here!" She announced loudly as the door banged against the opposite wall.
Felix heard shouts and the sound of chairs squealing across the floor and footsteps thundering down stairs. It sounded like a few more than just "some" extra people.
He clutched the container of cookies closer to his chest as Grace beamed in expectation.
He was prepared to be assaulted by an exuberant crowd of loud, running people, but instead they filtered into the room from the various hallways and down the staircase completely silently. This he found was almost more intimidating, especially paired with their curious, friendly smiles.
Not a single person entering the room looked like they could be directly related to Grace, or even to each other for that matter.
The alarm bells in the back of his head took this as an opportunity to remind him of their presence.
Once he was thoroughly surrounded, Grace put a hand on his shoulder and gestured wide to the crowd.
"Everyone, this is Felix! Felix, this is my family!"
Felix made his best attempt at a smile and waved to the group with his free hand.
"Uh, hello. I brought… cookies." He held out the tub of cookies to the crowd as though it were a peace offering to a group of uncertain natives.
The crowd of people made no move to accept this offering.
Felix threw a glance in Grace's direction to find her practically glaring at the group of people arranged in front of them.
She mouthed the question, "*What are you doing*?"
The members of the crowd smiled broader in response.
Felix threw another uncertain glance in Grace's direction, but the moment he took his eye off of them the situation changed.
The two people standing directly in front of Felix stumbled to the side with shouts of alarm, attempting, and failing, to shield their heads from the cane waving wildly in the air.
The lady on the other end looked particularly fierce, glaring at the startled assembly behind wisps of unruly curls.
"What in the world are you all doing?" She shouted, making a point to catch a tall blonde man over the top of his head with a solid thunk. "Are you trying to terrify that poor man?"
Felix was feeling like the old lady with the walking stick was far more intimidating than the silently smiling crowd.
Huffing, she slammed the cane down on the floor in front of her and threw one last glare around the room.
Grace made a wide gesture around the room. "What the heck are you guys doing?"
"I don't know," the blonde man said, wincing and rubbing the top of his head. "We were told to not be intimidating, so I suggested we try being quiet and friendly. Like making friends with a cat."
"Seriously?" A woman towards the back of the group asked as she crossed her arms.
Grace threw her hands in the air in exasperation.
The man shrugged apologetically in Felix's direction.
"That was, not what I was expecting for sure," Felix said, choosing his words as he spoke. "But I do appreciate the gesture."
This situation was nothing like the one he had been imagining and mentally preparing himself for.
None of the people in the group seemed like they could be secretly malicious as they all chimed an apology and the old lady nodded approvingly.
He realized how tightly he was holding the container of cookies and loosened his grip, allowing the feeling to rush back into his fingers.
"Um, I made cookies," he tried again, hesitantly offering the tub to who he assumed was Grace's grandma.
"I wasn't expecting this large a group so I'm not sure there will be enough but-"
She cut him off with a smile and wave of her hand.
"Don't worry about that. You're our guest here and we made plenty of food. You can hand that to Lyra if you'd like and she can take it to the kitchen, or I suppose you could continue hugging it like a teddy bear."
Sheepishly Felix handed the tupperware to the girl that stepped forward.
She had long, silky, black hair and amber-gold eyes set in a completely expressionless face that seemed familiar somehow. She accepted the tub and was gone the next moment, slipping between two people and through the doorway into the kitchen.
With the tub of cookies relinquished, Felix awkwardly shoved his hands into his pockets.
"So you're Felix then," the old lady said, taking several steps closer.
Grace beamed.
"Uh, yeah." Felix held a hand out to shake. "Nice to meet you."
"My name is Kate," she said, giving his hand a strong but firm shake. "But most everyone calls me Grandma. You're welcome to do the same."
"Thank you."
"Well," she said with a sharp inhale of satisfaction. "Make yourself at home, ask a lot of questions, tell a lot of stories, and have a good time. Don't let these wackos strange introduction bother you too much."
Felix gave an awkward laugh, unsure of how else he was supposed to respond.
Kate gestured down the hallway towards an open doorway. "Go on everyone, to the den. Let's not make things weird by just standing around in the doorway!"
Grace grabbed Felix's hand and led him at a brisk, excited pace to the indicated room.
“Come on guys, I want to do introductions!" She called over her shoulder to the others.
Kate took up the rear with a well pleased smile on her wrinkled face.
She hardly seemed to need the cane, Felix noted. He wondered if she carried it mainly to hit the unruly youngsters.
This scene is around three years old, and was started as a character study/exploration for Grace and her friends to get a feel for how they are involved in Felix’s backstory plot. This is not a scene in the actual story and a lot of the “plot” is not canon, but I thought it would be fun to share with you guys! Enjoy!
Part 1 * Part 2 * Part 3 * Part 4
*******
The den was comfortable and well decorated. Well decorated in the sense that there was a lot of decorations but not in the sense that any of them went well together. It looked like a thrift store had vomited out all the items that no one seems to ever buy over the walls, floor, and hodgepodge of mismatched sofas.
The group of people filtered into the room, each going to what looked like designated seating by how the decor matched the individual's fashion taste like in a cartoon. Before he could give more than a thought to where would be appropriate for him to sit, Grace indicated for him to take a seat on a slouchy old sofa covered in pillows.
"Oh, and watch out for Piggy," she cautioned as an afterthought.
"Piggy?" Felix asked, but he was too far committed into sitting down to reverse the motion.
The cushion was considerably more supple than he was expecting, and once he had actually sat, he continued to sink alarmingly farther into the depths of lumpy upholstery.
Piggy, it turned out, was not actually a shaggy pillow, but an aged miniature schnauzer that looked very sad at his unexpected eviction from the depths of the couch. He turned his gaze slowly to Felix and gave him a long, uncomfortably intense stare.
"Ope! There he is!" Grace said with a laugh, plopping onto the couch between him and the dog and disrupting Piggy again. The unfortunate dog faltered a moment in the shifting landscape, then gave up and settled against Grace's leg with a disgruntled yawn.
"Technically this is Piggy's couch but he can share," Grace informed Felix with a wink.
Felix nodded, or rather attempted to nod, his neck hunched into his shoulders from the angle he was scrunched into.
"Okay!" The tall blonde man from earlier exclaimed. He leaned forward in his seat and clapped his hands together, his elbows resting on his knees. The freckled woman sitting next to him smirked and adjusted her glasses further up her nose.
"Tell me, Felix, what do you like to do for fun?"
"For fun?" Felix responded, caught off guard by the unexpected question. He didn't have an answer readily prepared for this one.
The man's smile dropped from his face. "You do like having fun, right?" He asked with genuine concern.
Grace burst into a fit of laughter unsuccessfully smothered behind her hand.
"Uh, of course I do," Felix said, trying and failing to adjust how he was sitting so he would be more upright.
"But what do you do for fun?"
"You know," the woman sitting next to him said. "Usually you start out a conversation by introducing yourself. Like with your name."
"Well yeah," he responded dismissively, "But I don't know man, that's pretty weird. You've got to have something -”
"My name is Erin," the woman said before he had a chance to continue. "This dummy is Tychus."
Tychus willingly followed the topic change. "We're her cousins," he said with a knowing smile and a gesture in Grace's direction.
"Nice to meet you," Felix said with a little wave.
"You too! Grace has been telling us a lot about you," Tychus grinned.
Felix tried not to read too much into the statement.
Before Tychus could continue, a third person joined the conversation, leaning over the arm of the couch and smugly resting her chin in her hand. She had short, magenta colored hair and skin so pale Felix wondered if she was anemic.
"Sooooooo," she said, "What do you think about frogs?"
"F-frogs?"
There it was again, the frogs. It could be just that- frogs- but instinctively Felix knew it must be code for something. From the way Grace had acted during their conversation in the diner, his initial guess was something rebel based, but he was becoming increasingly confused and increasingly unsure what he had gotten himself into. Was "frogs" a common code used by the gangs?
"Grace invited you on a year long research trip on frogs," Hessie continued, clearly trying to keep a straight face and ultimately failing. "And you accepted. So clearly you gotta be someone who crazy loves frogs."
"Well, uh, I like frogs, but I don't think I like them any more than a normal person. I mainly accepted because I got the impression she was trying to find someone to go with her and I'm not really doing anything else." He tried to shrug as he spoke, but found the action to be difficult while half swallowed by the sofa.
"Ohhh so less that you like frogs and more that you like Grace." Hessie smirked.
"Is that bad?" Felix asked, feeling his face begin to heat up.
"Not at all." She looked around the room full of people as they nodded in agreement with her. "I think it's great you like your girlfriend that much you'll study an extinct species with her."
She grinned a strangely lopsided smile as Grace lunged over Piggy to thwack her with one of the couch pillows.
"Tone it down, Hessie! You literally just met him today!"
Hessie retreated from the couch, laughing. "You're only saying that cause I'm embarrassing you too."
"Tychus and Hessie are the mean ones,'' a deep voice said at Felix's shoulder. "You can pretty much ignore them."
With a jolt of adrenaline Felix turned as quickly as possible to the speaker, a tall young man with long dark hair and a thin nose. His vision obscured by the couch and a missing eye, Felix hadn't been able to see him walk up.
He was wearing eyeshadow and black lipstick, and had an intricate snake tattoo twining up his arm where it disappeared into his sleeve.
He sniffed and swiped a lock of hair to the side of his face, then held out his hand to Felix.
"Morgan," he said, his face completely blank.
Awkwardly, Felix took his hand. At first it was the most uncommitted handshake he had ever engaged in, but at the last second Morgan's hand tightened and he leaned forwards. Without any change in his expression or added tone to his voice he whispered, "Break her heart and I'll break your neck."
Caught entirely off guard, Felix reflexively shrank away into the couch cushion.
"Okay." He said, unsure how else to respond.
Morgan gave him a warm smile, then stepped backwards out of his field of vision.
Grace entirely missed this exchange while trying to hit Hessie with at least one of the plentiful couch pillows within her grasp. Despite Grace's aim, Hessie caught the majority of them and dodged the rest, laughing.
Kate had not missed it, and caught Felix's eye from across the room with her keen gaze. As soon as she had his attention, she smiled at him.
Felix was almost certain she did not mean for it to feel threatening, but he still felt a jolt of nerves he tried to hide behind a smile of his own.
"Why don't you tell us about yourself?" She said pleasantly. "What do you do for a living? Do you have any pets? Family?"
"Well, uh, my father and I run a mechanic shop in the [district]. I have two older siblings; they work with my mother in the medical field."
"He has the prettiest cat I've ever seen!" Grace interjected, leaping into the conversation and out from the depths of the couch. "His name is Puddleglum!"
"You named your cat Puddleglum?" The girl on the couch next to Kate asked.
"Come on, Lyra, it's cute!" Grace protested.
"Some friends and I found him in a gutter when he was a very small kitten," Felix explained. "He had such a funny face and looked like he was always miserable, so I named him that for a joke. I uh, usually just call him Puddles."
He attempted leaning forward as well, but ultimately failed against the couch's grappling abilities. It felt uncomfortable holding a conversation at such a reclined angle, and did not help at all with the feeling of being interrogated. He had been interrogated before- he kept reminding himself- and it was nothing like this. This was okay. They had every right to know the information they were asking for, even if there was information he was withholding. Information they probably wanted to know.
He saw in their eyes and could hear the questions they were asking without directly asking.
"Are you who you say you are? Are you keeping any secrets from us? Can we trust you?"
He was lying to them.
The evening continued mostly uneventfully with the occasional roughhousing sessions sprinkled throughout. On one of these occasions Tychus attempted to get Felix involved to see what kind of a fighter he was, which Kate gracefully intervened on.
Just before dinner the final member arrived, a little boy with dark curls and a bright smile who Grace introduced as Donald. After exchanging what had all the earmarks of a secret handshake with Tychus, he shed his jacket of primary color blue and red and was chased out of the room to wash his hands by Lyra.
The pair of headphones he was wearing around his neck remained there as they all took seats around the table.
Donald took the chair next to Felix. Grace, sitting on his other side, passed him a dish of baked veggies of some sort after serving a helping onto her own plate.
As he dropped a scoop onto his plate trying to figure out what it might be made from, Donald turned to him.
“I have an important question for you,” he said, folding his hands on the table in front of him.
“Okay. Shoot.” Felix replied.
“Have you thought about how you want to be embalmed?”
“Embalmed?” Felix echoed as Donald casually accepted the dish from his hands, obviously assuming he was finished serving and not that this was a result of his unexpected question.
He plopped a serving of indeterminate green on his plate, and passed the dish to Tychus who seemed very interested in their exchange.
“I- no, I hadn't really thought about it.” He wondered if this was somehow connected to Morgan's threat earlier in the evening.
“Well, you probably better!” Donald replied. “You never know when it'll be too late so you'd better decide before you die and can't have a say anymore. I know all about the different options so we-”
Grace interrupted, reaching across Felix and patting the tabletop to get his attention.
“Donald- Donald, maybe you could talk about embalming after dinner, okay? You're going to make him lose his appetite.”
Donald shrugged easily. “Sure, but remember that death doesn't wait until you're ready,” he said casually.
Felix was pretty sure his lack of appetite was not exactly Donald's fault. Everyone was curious, observant and mostly friendly, but entirely failing at hiding the fact they didn't fully trust him. The anxiety he had brought with him into this situation was stomach turning enough.
As the evening went on he had noticed more and more little details scattered around that could mean nothing, but all together led to a distinct conclusion.
There were several unoccupied spaces in the room- faces missing in the group that were in the family pictures on the walls.
One of these faces he thought he recognized, but wasn't given enough time to study the wall to be able to place him. The floorplan schematic of a nearby office complex with time annotations on the side marking the shift changes. Gear belts full of curious instruments that could not in any stretch of imagination be used as common trade tools. An assortment of antique weapons stored in an umbrella stand. A lockpick kit hanging alongside the coats and car keys. A pair of obviously used knuckle dusters on the hall table.
They were also not telling him everything.
"So, uh," Felix said. He had gathered his thoughts, he had to ask it. No matter the consequences.
"You guys are a gang, aren't you? Like a criminal gang."
The room grew suddenly silent as everyone looked at him with varied faces of alarm.
"W-why do you think that?" Hessie asked with a glance at Kate. Kate's face was drawn stiff and serious, making it hard to tell what she was thinking.
Felix avoided eye contact with anyone in the room, and gestured with his thumb to the fireplace.
"You have an A-36 charging on the mantle. Anyone who's familiar with firearms knows all quick charge firearms are banned, and anyone who has one in their possession should turn it in for smelting or be arrested. You're charging it. Which means that you're planning on using it."
He fiddled with his fingers in his lap.
"That's not everything I'm going off of, but it's definitely telling."
The silence stretched on painfully until Felix risked a glance up at Grace, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking behind the tense mask she'd pulled onto her face.
He swiped aside a lock of his bang that had slipped past his nose and over his eye, then continued.
"You all certainly don't seem like the type that are in any way deserving of being arrested," he said in an attempt to ease the sudden tension. "I'm sure the gun is meant to be used for self-defense, I'm not going to report you. I just," he paused and looked up, catching Grace in the eye and holding her gaze as everyone around them visibly relaxed.
"I needed to know, before we kept going. This trip you're going on; you're not researching frogs, are you?"
Grace opened her mouth and immediately shut it again as Felix finished.
"I'm guessing that's what you brought me here to explain, right?"
"Dang, Felix…" Tychus said softly, holding his chin in his hand so tightly his knuckles had turned white.
"Yeah," Grace said, her hand slipping up to grab her arm.
"Hey," Felix said, feeling a sudden surge of regret. In his effort to make sure he didn't get laughed off and got an honest answer he might have gone too serious.
Hesitantly he put his hand on her arm. Grace relaxed slightly, and looked up at him, her eyes swimming with thoughts.
"It's- it's okay, I just need to know the truth. This is your family, but none of you look related. There's a lot of stuff around the house that could get you in serious trouble if an officer saw it. You do realize how dangerous things are right now?"
"Wait, wait," Erin interjected. "You know that we're a criminal gang and you're okay with that?"
"With the current state of our government you don't have to have done anything actually bad to be a criminal. You could be a group that feeds homeless people or finds families for stray cats and still be on the run from the authorities."
"How do you know we haven't done anything wrong?" Grace asked.
"Well, I trust you." Felix said.
"How come you know so much about guns?" Tychus asked, moving to cross his arms over his chest.
Felix shrugged. "I think they're cool. I like building things and putting things back together, so I read a bunch of books about them."
It was true, but it wasn't the full answer, and Felix felt a stab of guilt for lying to them again while calling them out on their secrets.
"We're all orphans," Grace said. "Made that way by the government who didn't like our parents. Kate took us all in and gave us a home, her and this other guy. He's not here tonight, but… We're already technically breaking the law, simply by being raised here instead of in corrective facilities, so we decided, why not be vigilantes?"
She gave an awkward laugh and scratched at her chin with her free hand, looking up at the patterned ceiling instead of Felix's face.
"So, what do you do?" Felix asked.
"Mostly track with the local gangs and stop them from committing crimes." Tychus said with a grin.
"Which is also technically a crime," Hessie said through the corner of her mouth, "but the real law enforcement is too busy enforcing dumb laws like lawn height to be saving people from actual threats."
"You know like the [team]?" Grace said.
Felix felt an involuntary surge of adrenaline at her directly mentioning his secret, but she continued, squeezing his hand back after he accidentally squeezed hers.
"We're being vigilantes like them."
"That's really cool." Was all he managed to force out in response.
"Um," Grace fiddled with her fingers in her lap. "You're okay with that?"
He nodded awkwardly. Now would be a fantastic time to mention that he was already a wanted criminal for vigilante crimes. Maybe even let them know he was actually a well known vigilante. That they had clearly heard of. But his tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth.
He wasn't really Dauntless anymore, not after he had given up. Not after he'd failed to save his friends. He wasn't really even sure why he was here. He'd promised [mustache] he'd stay out of trouble, promised his family he'd stay safe, but then had jumped at the first opportunity that looked like possibly resuming vigilante work? He was glad to know his hunch was correct, but now he had to make a decision.
"I was a little worried you wouldn't, since I know following the law is important to you," Grace was saying. She was grinning, looking away from him and up to the ceiling, clearly embarrassed and clearly excited.
"But I also thought, you like helping people, so maybe-" she cut herself off, looking down at the floor and jiggling her leg.
"Well, I mean. I think it's important to follow the law when you can, but it's supposed to be there to protect the people that live under it. If the *law* is what's hurting people, and it's not that it's just being misapplied-"
He stopped himself before he went any further into fully treasonous territory. He wanted to be careful to only say what he thought was true, but not say so much it would make him seem suspiciously enthusiastic. It was hard, he felt very strongly about this topic.
"Say that around the wrong people and you'll get yourself incarcerated." Tychus said with a grin.
Felix grimaced, and the blonde man laughed.
Kate was watching him with those unreadable, sharp eyes.
"What are you going to do?" She asked.
What *was* he going to do? There were too many promises to keep.
To Hiro, who told him to not let them break him, Harley who made him promise they would win. His mother who begged him to never do something like that again. If he said no he'd stay where he was, hiding away while others finished the fight he started. There had to be another option, a way he could not let anyone down.
He took a deep breath to steady his nerves, then met Kate's gaze.
Here is a section from the second book of Felix's backstory, secret identity reveal jailbreak scenario :D
I chose this one mainly cause I've got some art for this scene coming up in my queue 😂
Uhhh Felix is not doing too hot, Grace is fighting down a panic attack, and Erin is being MVP like usual. It's a whumpy scenario lol
They were paused for the moment, tucked into an alcove that was storing some kind of generator. The bulky machine served not only as a visual buffer from the rest of the hallway, but also to drown out the noise of their hushed conversation.
Grace needed to catch her breath- a result of her stubbornly insisting that it only needed to take one person to carry him. Erin and Tychus were reviewing the map Erin had drawn over her arm, and coming to the conclusion that they were, in fact, lost.
Felix was slumped against the wall thinking about the fact that this would be a perfect time to be throwing up, since they were already at a stop, but there seemed to be nothing ready to come up yet.
Maybe this meant he was finally done.
They were discussing their getaway route, he realized, and none of them were familiar with the base's layout. Felix still had it memorized.
"Erin," he said, as loud as he could force his voice to go, "Where are you trying to get to?"
She looked up at him in surprise, then back down at her arm. "I don't exactly know. It was this room Tychus and I came across on our way to find you guys. There was a window in it I think we can use to get out so we can avoid doors with security cameras and coded locks. The problem is the hallways aren't adding up to my notes."
She sighed in defeat and sat on the floor next to him.
"Are you feeling better?"
He nodded.
"Can I see your notes? I might know where it is."
Erin seemed confused, but she complied, holding out her arm in front of him and tracing over the theoretical route with her finger as she explained.
Grace leaned in to join the conversation, one arm looped around Felix's torso to help him stay upright.
Felix listened closely, letting his body slump against her so he could put all his willpower into visualizing the route.
After Erin had finished, he nodded.
"Yeah, there's a hallway between these two that's not marked on the map, so we got mixed up when we took the first left instead of the second. The rest of the map looks pretty accurate."
"How do you know the layout so well?" Tychus demanded as Erin added in the missing hallway to her arm.
"I've been here before," Felix replied.
He realized that really didn't answer the question, but he was too exhausted to want to go into detail.
"I hope you're planning on explaining things later," Erin muttered.
Felix swallowed. "I- I'm sorry guys. For not telling you sooner."
Grace gave him a reassuring squeeze as Tychus turned away, shoving his hands into his pockets and biting down on the edge of his lip.
Erin watched him, concerned, then addressed Felix with a sigh.
"It's fine I guess. It's probably not something anyone would want to talk about. I'm just confused why none of this showed up on your government record at all."
"You looked up my record?" Felix asked with a hint of amusement in his tone.
After a failed successful rescue attempt, Joden and his cellmate are attempting to escape the Fox outpost they are being help prisoner in. The sickly old raccoon is convinced escape is impossible, but refuses to let Joden attempt it alone, while Joden refuses to escape without him.
First . <- Previous . Next ->
"Oh look at this, I've got a click-boom stick." Joden adjusted the pistol in his hands and looked up at the remaining guards with a half smile.
The leader snarled to his soldiers. "Don't just stand there, he obviously doesn't know how to use it."
Joden threw a quick glance to make sure Rowan was playing his side of the plan.
The old man was cautiously creeping around behind the foxes, every muscle tense. Even without a weapon, up against enemies twice his size, he seemed powerful enough to be a weapon himself.
"You really want to bet your life on that?" Joden threw back. "You still don't know who I am or how I got in here in the first place. For all you know I could have all three of you dead before you can cross the room."
The lead fox chuckled. "Your arrogance is amusing little one, but I guess you weren't betting on this when you decided to pull that little bluff?"
With a wicked grin he pulled his own pistol out of its holster and pointed it in Joden's direction.
"Drop the gun, ringtail."
Unfortunately for him, Joden had not forgotten the second gun. He also knew more about these weapons than the captain seemed to be betting on, and he knew the captain’s gun only had one more shot in it.
One shot, two raccoons, three foxes.
Joden made no move to drop the gun while his brain scrambled for a way to get the captain into wasting his shot before Rowan got involved with a sword.
“You want it?" Joden said, shifting his finger to the trigger. "Come and take it."
A twig snapped in the underbrush behind her, breaking the sinister silence. The feathers along her neck stood on end and Aris clutched the basket handle so tightly her knuckles turned white. That smell was back, stronger than before, filling the clearing and masking the scent of damp earth and late violets. The air itself felt heavy with the strong presence of something malevolent and powerful. It was probably just Lars, she told herself, she had called him to come get her hadn’t she? It was only her nerves causing her to feel this fear. But the manticore’s presence had always felt warm, like a patch of afternoon sunlight breaking through the forest canopy. This? It smelled like smoke, like a fire that had no heat. Stale and cold and dead. She turned slowly, her heart pounding in her ears, and had to resist the urge to scream from the shock that something frightening actually was standing in the space behind her.
He stood out from the familiar forest landscape like a nightmare, dark and menacing, the delicate ferns flattened at his feet as though the whole world was warping around him to avoid touching his filth. He was dressed in rough clothes, a sword and several daggers hanging from his various belts. Hungry golden eyes glared at her through loops of dark hair that escaped from underneath his hood. Dark leathery wings rose above his covered head, their tips adorned with polished copper rings that reflected the gentle forest light. His right arm was perch for a giant black bird the size of a child, clinging to his heavy leather glove with talons as black as its feathers.
Aris could feel the blood drain from her face. She almost felt he couldn’t possibly be real, so unnatural was his appearance in the peaceful wood. She watched in horror as he walked towards her, the tender plants of the forest withering under his rugged boots.
“And there you are, little one.” His voice rasped, dry and unused. He chuckled. “You are rather good at hide-and-go-seek aren’t you?”
Aris breathed in sharply and managed to force herself to take a step backwards. She finally broke her eyes away from his gaze to look desperately in the woods around her for any sign of Lars.
“No, no. Don’t run, not just yet,” the stranger said, holding up a single finger of his free hand. “I want to make you an offer.”
Aris' eyes flicked to meet his again.
"An offer? What do you want?"
"Nothing too complicated," he replied, stroking his hand down the back of his bird. "Come along willingly and we'll just leave. Nothing else has to get hurt, not the forest, the animals, the people…"
He smiled at her, delicately scratching under the bird's chin as it lifted its head in pleasure.
Aris attempted a subtle step backwards. Every instinct screamed to turn around and flee with all speed, but she felt trapped by that awful gaze and the terrifying idea of turning her back on him.
