Chapter Text
"Would you like to get out of here, Rollan?"
"I don't know, man, I've really gotten used to the place."
"Is that so?"
And oh lord does Rollan hate that smug son of a snake. Rollan hopes to the Great Beasts that Zerif can't hear the well hidden anger that lies beneath his sarcastic words.
"I am Duke Zerif. And before you ask, my cloak isn't green because while I work with the Greencloaks, I am not one of them. They send me on cases like yours," Zerif tells him calmly, hands clasped behind his back, words practiced and elegant.
"Cases like mine?" Rollan responds dutifully, echoing the words of a lifetime ago.
And just like the first time, Zerif glances at the jailer and tells him, "Perhaps it's better if we converse in private. I've paid your bail."
"Great," Rollan tells him, and this time, he isn't able to keep the sarcasm out of his tone. Zerif must've been able to tell, because he cocks his head curiously before the jailer opens the door.
Rollan steps out and exits the building with Zerif on one side, and Essix perched on his other shoulder.
"You have a superior bird," Zerif notes, and there's something machine-like about the way he says it, like the words are lines from a script that only he knows. Rollan wonders absentmindedly whether he practices these little speeches.
"Thanks," Rollan mutters, already looking for a way out. "What now?"
"Today, your new life begins," Zerif said. "There is much to discuss. I will have all your charges dropped, so there is no time to waste."
"Wonderful," Rollan tells him, and Essix squeezes his shoulder slightly to let him know... "What is that woman doing?" He asked, pointing across the street.
As Zerif turned to look, Rollan swiftly darts down an alley- a different one this time, and smiled at his luck. A pile of wooden boxes lay in the corner, providing Rollan with the perfect entrance to the roofs of Concorba. Essix takes off with a slight pressure, flapping into the sky.
Rollan ran along the buildings and risked a glance behind that told him- yep, Zerif was on his trail, and he had his jackal out too. Rollan considered turning to fight him, but Essix's shriek of disapproval told him that wasn't such a good idea.
Essix flew over him and slightly ahead, banking right, and Rollan made the course adjustment. Essix shrieked again, and Rollan dove down into the alley, and hit the ground with a smooth roll to soften the impact, before spotting the large man in a forest-green cloak barreling towards him, and Rollan's breath caught in his throat.
Olvan.
He was such a different sight from the last time he saw him, black spiral on his forehead and non-lethal arrow wounds dotting his broad frame.
They both froze staring at each other, a gray-haired man with a thick beard and a scrawny thirteen-year old.
Then, a small crash above and behind Rollan alerts him to Zerif's presence, and he whirls around just in time to see him darting away, (thank Tellun,) possibly cowed by the sight of the large Greencloak.
Olvan pauses, and Rollan watches carefully, climbing to his feet, as Olvan notes Essix perched on a rooftop and the grubby teen that she watches.
"What name did he give you?" Olvan barks, rounding on him.
"That guy? Zerif," Rollan told him, even as his voice shook and tears prick the corner of his eyes.
"That much is true," Rollan watched as Olvan seemed to notice that the 'child' in front of him was close to tears. Gentler, he asked, "Do you know him?"
Rollan, unable to help himself, snorts. "No," He tells him, and not-so-subtly drags the back of his hand over his eyes.
"I'm sensing a but...?" Olvan prompted.
"It's a long story."
"We have time."
"He bailed me out of jail."
"Doesn't seem like a very long story."
"I guess."
"What did he tell you?"
"Not much," Rollan admitted. "He wanted to take me away."
"I expected as much," Olvan informed him. "We call Zerif 'the Jackal' after his spirit animal, a cunning creature native to Nilo. He works for our archenemy, the Devourer."
Rollan nodded. "Um, alright. So, uh, what's your name?" He remembered to ask.
If Olvan found it strange that Rollan wasn't more incredulous, (because, to be honest, at this point, Rollan was too tired to act,) then he did a good job of hiding it.
"My name is Olvan. And you, have summoned the falcon. Essix. So, I think, I should be the one asking, who are you?"
Rollan could tell he wasn't very impressed by the 'I'm a nobody-orphan-sort-of-criminal' response he'd gotten. Rollan just hoped he wasn't made out to be a spy or something, because then he'd definitely cry.
When did he become such a crybaby?
In fact, he had already cried, first night at Sunset Tower, alone in a dark room, as he finally mourned for his fallen comrades. It didn't help that his dreams that night were plagued by the memories of the Cloaks, the last resistance against the Wyrm and it's compatriots.
He didn't know who to trust, who would believe him. After all, what proof did he have? Nothing but his own mind and his strangely strong bond with Essix, and that could simply be explained by the fact that he summoned a freaking Great Beast, Fallen or not.
And so, Rollan pondered until, in a burst of brainpower, he had an epiphany.
Tarik.
The first thing Rollan thought when he awoke was, 'I definitely can not tell Tarik.'
At least, he couldn't yet. At this point, he'd never even met him, and Rollan recalled that he'd seemed a bit standoffish in the beginning, so he would definitely be seen as insane.
And also Rollan couldn't, couldn't tell him that he'd died and that it was his fault.
But that was neither here nor there. Right now, Rollan had to concentrate on meeting Conor, Meilin, and...
Abeke.
Rollan paused, lost in his own thoughts as he waited in the field. Abeke was with the Conquerors, wasn't she? Rollan silently cursed himself for forgetting.
Idiot, Meilin's voice whispered in his head affectionately. Rollan shook his head to get it out, ignoring the sudden pain in his chest and the way that he went queasy. He sat down in the tall grass, cradling his head in his hands. How was he going to do this?
How could he see Conor, without imagining him with the dark swirl on his head, as ever-loyal Briggan remained at his side, Wyrm-less but faithful 'till the end?
How could he see Abeke and Uraza, without remembering the absolutely broken look in her eyes, as her arrow struck the leopard's heart, aim as true as ever?
How could he see Meilin, without recalling her scarlet blood eyes wide in shock when an arrow pierced her chest, eyes locked on his as Rollan yelled for Jhi, sobbing when she couldn't do anything?
His self-pity was interrupted by the sound of the horns, and Rollan recognized the code that told him that the visitors were here. Essix drifted down lazily.
"You coming?" He yelled to her, voice hoarse, and she let out a piercing cry as she drifted down to rest on his shoulder. He smiled, albeit a little sadly. "You're such a good bird now, hmm?" He asked her, gliding through the tall grass towards the gate of Sunset Tower. Essix shrieked loudly and then promptly took off. Rollan smirked, before schooling his face into an appropriately polite expression for someone meeting people he definitely didn't know.
Rollan watched as Tarik, Meilin and Jhi, Conor and Briggan began to walk towards him. His breath caught in his throat as he noticed his not-yet friends.
They looked so young.
Even Meilin, who Rollan knew had just fled a city erupting in chaos, who had trained for most her life, still had that fiery spark in her eyes that told him she'd never seen war, or battle, or death.
"I'm Tarik," Tarik told him, dismounting. "I take it you're Rollan?"
"Yep," Rollan responded, tried not to sound like he was crying, and refused to look his father-figure in the eyes, instead focusing on Jhi and Briggan. "Was it the falcon?" He asked gesturing in the general direction of the sky, where Essix circled lazily above him. "It was the falcon, wasn't it?"
In response, Tarik said, "Meilin, Conor, I would like you to meet Rollan. He was born and raised her in Amaya. Just as you two summoned Jhi and Briggan, he called Essix."
The wolf and panda padded forwards, and the falcon dove down to greet them. They cautiously investigated each other, and Essix let out two shrieks. In response, Jhi gave her a small huff before turning her calm, silver gaze on Rollan. Briggan did the same with his penetrating, blue eyes.
"Do they remember?" Meilin asked, and the animals turned back to investigating each other, and Rollan tried not to cry when he heard her sweet voice.
"It's possible," Tarik said. "It's difficult to pinpoint how much of their former lives they recall. Much of it might be instinct at this stage."
After a brief, awkward silence, Rollan asked in uneven words, "What about Uraza, the fourth Fallen Beast?"
Tarik sighed, a sound that was familiar. "Somebody got to Uraza and her new partner first, much like Zerif attempted with you. The girl is named Abeke. We don't know her present location, but we won't rest until we find her. Lenori believes that she and Uraza are still alive. The challenge will be finding them."
"Is Lenori how you found us?" Conor asked, and Rollan had to stop himself from snorting at how high and innocent his voice seemed.
Tarik nodded. "Lenori is the most gifted visionary of all the Greencloaks. Thanks to her unique foresight, we suspected the Four Fallen were returning."
"Her powers can't be entirely unique," Rollan pointed out, remembering Yumaris, the old lady who thought she was an earthworm. "Not if somebody beat you to Abeke."
"If Uraza is currently lost," Meilin said, subtly steering the conversation back on topic, "then the three of us must represent the Four Fallen. Aren't we supposed to learn what's going on, now that we're together?"
"That information is Olvan's to share," Tarik deflected. "You already know that we want you to join the Greencloaks and help us preserve Erdas."
Rollan snorted a little, and Tarik frowned at the response. "Preserve Erdas from the Devourer, you mean?" He asked, playing off his snort as skepticism.
Tarik startled a little, momentarily caught off guard. "Who mentioned the Devourer?"
"Olvan," Rollan told him bluntly. "When we first met."
"You've met Olvan?" Conor blurted, seemingly stunned and impressed. Rollan ignored him.
"We're still not postitive who we're up against. It won't be long before Olvan explains why we need your help. For the moment, take the chance to get acquainted." He mounted his horse, saying something about 'riding ahead to announce them.'
Shoot, Rollan thought internally. What do I say to my old dead/possessed friends? As if hearing his thoughts, Essix nipped at his ear to signal her disapproval at his blunt thoughts. He yelped, more in shock than pain.
Meilin raised a perfect eyebrow, and Rollan tried not to cry at the familiar action.
"Judging by your clothes, I take it you're rich," He said, waiting for her to echo her response of 'wealth is relative' and 'the emperor is richer than me.'
Instead, her eyes flashed to the yellow that indicated that Gerathon now lurked behind her eyes. It was subtle, and without his heightened senses, Rollan wouldn't have noticed it. Rollan cursed Gerathon creatively in his head.
He tuned in to what she was saying. "The emperor has much more treasure than my father," She said coldly.
"So you're rich," He surmised. "Great to know. What about you, Conor?"
Conor flushed, glancing sideways at Meilin. "My family are shepherds. I was stuck as a servant for a bit, but I've always preferred the outdoors." He told them, a bit sheepish.
"Great," Rollan said. The silence was thick and awkward without Rollan leading the conversation.
"And you?" Meilin asked belatedly. "What's your story?"
"I'm an orphan. Essix was my ticket out of jail. I probably wouldn't be here otherwise," Rollan told them bluntly. At Meilin's dubious look, he said, "And no, I'm not lying." He turned his back from them to face Sunset Tower. Essix took flight, basking the warm sun.
Now, the thing about Meilin was that she could move real fast when she wanted to. So Rollan, distant and distracted, with his back turned, never would've heard it when Meilin put her knife through his back.