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Ariella Atheus knew. S He knew what s he was supposed to do, how s he was supposed to act, what her his jobs were. S He tugged at one of the pieces of endstone in her his hair, debating on whether or not to go to the field and help Pleiades. S He blinked, and-
S He was being dragged somewhere. S He could hear Elder Ramesin talking, scolding her him, grip tight, most likely bruising her his wrist.
"Really Ariella? You were supposed to meet your group in the fields an hour ago! I knew something was wrong when Instructor Gemanine sent the report and there was only two-thirds the usual amount! You lazy girl, you need to stop fooling around. The Projellans will not be happy with your efforts, or lack thereof. After you finish your work, go straight to High Elder Menanin's office. Do you understand me?" She said, tightening her grip on the young girl's boy's arm. S He nodded, the Elder letting go of her his arm and scoffing when s he ran off to finish her his work.
Atheus grinned, looking up at the stars. His Haunting had finally escaped! He knew other Hauntings weren't so lucky, becuase She had killed so many of the Hauntings near his. He could still see the bodies of his brethren, purple blood spilling out of wounds and the mouths, some still in the process of dissolving, limbs turning transparent and the murky blue-green hearts-known-as-eyes being left behind.
He took a deep breath in, almost immediately coughing, his lungs not used to the humidity of the Overworld. Atheus was happy.
He shuddered, shaking as he entered the Portal. He knew that Enderians weren't supposed to go to the Nether, but High Elder Menanin insisted that they needed blaze powder, soul sand, nether wart, glowstone dust, and the weird mushrooms that made his head hurt. He didn't understand why the Elders needed the mushrooms; they only seemed to give the fungi to him, and he would sleep and wake up in weird places.
He went through the portal, only to immediately slump to the ground, crying out when his bruises were pressed against. One thing the Elders never mentioned to the Learners: the Portal drains the energy of those who access it. He, as the Apprentice, had the responsibility of getting the materials needed for the Yvellah. If he didn't get them, the Projellans would send their daemons and he would be separated from his Haunting again and he would have to fend for himself.
He shakily rose to his feet, stumbling in the direction of the fortress. He knew how to get most of the materials, but he didn't know where he was going to get more nether wart; he had advised the Elders to plant nether wart so they wouldn't run out, but even his status as the Apprentice couldn't sway them. They had used all the nether wart during the Week of Tenirul. He had his own garden, but the Elders had required so much of the red plant recently that he hadn't been able to replant the small garden.
He stumbled on a loose piece of netherrack, falling forward and sticking his hands and knees out to catch himself. He immediately regretted it, the stone crumbling under his weight and digging into a large cut on his palm. When- oh, no I remember how that happened, he thought, shuddering in displeasure at the resurfacing memory. He had neglected his studies the day before, and Elders Iola and Calador had caught him writing in one of his notebooks. The Elders had confiscated his book and brought him before High Elder Menanin, who hadn't talked, simply looked at Learner Fenoki. The boy had taken him into the Poena Volutpat, where Inquisitor Rynexal had, had, had done something. The Inquisitor had a knife, had used the knife to slice his palm open. He hadn't been allowed to bandage it, Appeaser Quillrian having said that the wound would bring him closer to Nyllrus, god of strength and pain.
Atheus whimpered, pushing himself up, being mindful of the broken chunks of netherrack around him. When he finally stood up, he examined the cut, picking out bits of the warm red stone from the skin. He hissed when a piece pulled at his skin, a bit of blood welling up where the stone was. He blinked, and-
He was fighting a blaze. His sword was out, he had on his chestplate and leggings, and the blaze was dying. Atheus swung his sword one last time and the blaze hit the ground, the creature struggling to get up. He felt heavy, almost disconnected as he drove his sword into the creature's chest, feeling close to nothing as it looked at him and dissolved, leaving behind a couple of its rods, which Atheus picked up. He immediately put them into his rucksack, placing them in the pocket he had sewn for more delicate items. He walked back down the steps, letting his feet carry him to the nether wart farm.
When he got to the farm, he-
He was tired. Appeaser Quillrian had forbid him from sleeping for the last week, and would continue to do so if he didn't "maintain the balance between Nyllrus and Chaotyll," whatever the fuck that means. He was still amazed that the High Elders gave him the job of keeping two literal gods in a rock. He was still considered a child in everyone's eyes, despite him being the Apprentice.
He shook his head, forcing his eyes open as he yawned. His jaw cracked, and he let out a high sound, moving it around before rubbing one of the parts where his jaw and skull combined. Atheus winced when he heard an explosion, knowing it was Chaotyll trying to mess with him, to let his guard down so she and Nyllrus could escape. He wouldn't fall for her tricks, he couldn't afford to.
Foolish girl, you cannot contain us! We are primordial beings, older than any of your Elders and far more dangerous. If you think they are unforgiving, wait until we are released. Then you will see what true carnage is. He heard Chaotyll whisper, and he had to suppress a shudder. He desperately wished that High Elder Menanin had given Appeaser Quillrian this task, but the High Elder had insisted he was ready for a new responsibility.
Atheus was so tired. Maybe just a couple seconds of rest wouldn't hurt, right?
He was running. He didn't remember leaving. He was taught to stay with the Haunting.
"There are horrors out there, horrors that want to take your gifts, horrors that would use you until you can't be used anymore and then leave you alone, abandon you on the side of the road for the gods to decide your fate." Elder Calador's words come back to him, making the Enderian giggle hysterically. It was all a bunch of bullshit, wasn't it? He wasn't a fucking Apprentice, his Haunting was just some massive fucking cult.
And the Week of Tenirul was supposedly for his death. Yeah, there's no way he's going back there.
He runs. He runs until he finds a village, where he trades some of the more worthless gems in his hair for supplies, which he shoves in his rucksack before thanking the vendors and leaving. He finds a spot just outside of the village, close enough that he could walk if needed and far enough that the inhabitants wouldn't question him being there.
You shouldn't be doing this. You were an Apprentice! What have you stooped to? He hears Chaotyll whisper, her voice tinged with annoyance.
Shut up. I'm doing this so we- so I don't die, you stupid goddess. He smirks as she grumbles, presence receding from his mind. He peeks around the corner of the building, ducking back down as some of the royal guards pass by. He's so tempted just to reach out and grab one of the pouches he knows are filled with the coins he desperately needs. He catches himself, bringing his arm down from where it was positioned to grab the closest pouch.
Atheus huffs softly, sneaking behind the last guard and into the marketplace, trying to look like a regular teen instead of a homeless mess. He succeeds for the most part, getting a few odd stares from some of the vendors as he occasionally stops at some of the stalls, hand slipping out from under his cloak to take items he literally can't live without. He holds himself with confidence, acting as if he belongs there when he so clearly doesn't.
His eyes widen when he sees a kid around his age heading towards him, feeling a spike of anxiety rush through him. They stop him from proceeding, holding their arm out.
"Hey, just wanted to say you looked tired, mate. Try and get some rest, okay?" They say, smiling up at him. Atheus looks down at them, brain freezing before restarting.
"Y-yeah, I'll try. Thank you," he mumbles, stepping out of the shorter's way. They give him a smile, Atheus smiling back awkwardly before hurrying off.
Well, that was awkward. Chaotyll mutters, Atheus stopping and hitting the side of his head, effectively shutting her up.
"I don't need you to comment on everything I do. So shut up," he hisses, moving to a stall with some pastries before deciding he doesn't need them. He gives the vendor a grin, recoiling when the woman gives him a dirty look. He hurries away from the stall, frowning when Chaotyll laughs at him.
He decides to head back to his hideout, ducking in an alley as another patrol passes him. He averts his eyes as one of the officers looks in his direction, trying to look casual as the officer walks over to him.
"What are you doing out here, kid? Shouldn't you be at home with your parents?" The officer asks, gold eyes boring into his. Atheus's brain short-circuits once again.
"My parents told me to get groceries for them. They're both at work, Sir," he says, looking a bit to the right of the officer's eyes. The man frowns, brows pinching together.
"Well, be careful. There's a pickpocket in this area, and rumours are he's got a knife. Wishing you safety on your journey," the taller says, walking back to his unit. Atheus lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding, turning around and weaving through the alleys until he reaches his "home." He pulls back the boards and crawls into the space, letting out a sigh of relief as he flops down on his bed. He burrows into his blankets, letting out a short purr as he munches on one of the fish he stole.
You're pathetic, you know. Chaotyll says, Atheus responding with a chirp. He finishes the fish, curling up into a ball around one of his makeshift pillows as he drifts off.
He's awoken the next day by yelling outside his hideout. He recognizes one of the voices as the man from yesterday, and he panics. He shoves some of his most important items in his rucksack and crawls out of the other entrance to his hideout. He runs, hearing a shout behind him and pounding feet.
Atheus skids into an alley, not noticing the soldiers positioned behind the entrance until he is slammed against the ground, vision whiting out for a second before he's hauled up, a childish whine slipping out of his mouth. The soldiers bring him to the officer, throwing Atheus on the ground and snickering when he curls up. The officer squats down to his level, an apologetic smile gracing his features.
"Sorry kid, but we're gonna have to bring you in under the premises of shoplifting. I wish we didn't have to do this, but it's under the rule of the princess," the officer says, standing up and motioning for the two soldiers to pick him up. They force Atheus onto his feet, not giving him time to adjust to the sudden movement before they start marching him towards the palace. He gives up walking after a few steps, letting his head loll and his feet shuffle against the pavement. The soldiers drag him throughout the town, and he can feel the stares of the townspeople on him like bugs crawling across his skin and making him shake weakly.
He realizes that the palace is huge. It's bigger than the High Elder's tent; then again, most of the buildings here are. He shakes his head, letting out a distressed chirp when it just makes his head hurt more.
The leading officer opens the door of the palace, announcing to the guards who he is - Atheus doesn't catch his name, something Soot? - and then the soldiers are bringing him to the throne room.
At this point he's full-on shaking, feeling as though he's going to pass out. The lights of the palace are too bright and his clothes are rubbing against his skin in a bad way. He's pretty sure if either of the royals make eye contact with him he'll either pass out or break down, and he's betting it'll be the former.
"Princess Rural, Prince Jay," the officer greets, bowing. "We found this girl in one of the alleys, and in her quote-unquote house were multiple blankets, food items, and clothing items that she had presumably stolen from vendors. She proceeded to run from us, but was captured by Soldiers Marcus and Gillian."
"Thank you Officer. Child, do you have anything to say for yourself?" One of the royals asks. He tries to answer, but his head is filled with cotton and his tongue feels like lead and his words are stuck in his throat like honey. He shakes his head, gagging when his head feels fuzzier than before.
"By the gods, Officer, what did your soldiers do to her?" A more feminine voice says, and he feels a hand touch his face. He jerks back from the contact, letting a whine slip out as the movement makes him feel like his head's about to shatter.
"Aw, honey, it's okay. Let's get you some meds, yeah? Then we can talk about this," he hears the voice say, and he lets out a hiss as the soldiers let him go. His knees shake and he just collapses. He expects the floor to be hard, but instead it's...soft? He opens his eyes - when did they close? - and looks up. The Princess smiles down at him.