Chapter Text
Escaping the twins and Figaro had not been an easy task for Bradley.
Initially, when he had been in that manor, he hadn’t stood a chance. Bradley alone could never escape from the trio. They had bound him and dragged him, not allowing him a chance to escape. No chances to explain himself.
The gleam in their eyes was a look he would never forget. The twins were known for their love of the hunt, after all. Bradley had always thought that hunting humans was their game.
It was clear in that moment that Bradley was the prey. They had set the snare, and Bradley the rabbit had stepped right into it.
The trio had been so mocking. They allowed Bradley to keep his gun at his side, secured under the rope, like they hadn’t wanted him to feel like a victim or completely vulnerable. Figaro’s smile when he patted Bradley’s gun made Bradley feel more weak than ever.
Things changed when the twins and Figaro tugged Bradley north.
The bandit was stumbling as he was dragged along. As a northerner, he had always been an expert at walking in snow. Now, he couldn’t even raise his feet high enough to walk normally. His entire body ached.
Where had Nero been?
Bradley’s thoughts were so preoccupied, he hadn’t even noticed that Figaro had stopped in front of him.
Bradley stepped forward and ran into his captor. Figaro turned around quickly to face him, the sudden movement causing Bradley to jerk back.
In a second, the rope slipped from Figaro’s fingers.
Just a second.
And it was enough.
Bradley turned and ran for his life.
Bradley wiggled his arms and relaxed his body as he ran. He had been in worse situations than just being bound. He had done everything right, just waiting for a moment to utilize it. As expected, his arm slipped from the ropes. Bradley grabbed his gun, pulling it out.
He glanced back to see Figaro and the twins hadn’t started to run after him yet. They were focused on somebody in front of them—a ginger?
Had Mithra…?
Bradley didn’t have time to think about that. Bradley faced back ahead and continued his mad dash away.
He knew he had won. Bradley wasn’t stupid. He wouldn’t get captured twice.
——
Of course, Bradley couldn’t escape forever. He sighed as he looked up at the moon. He was one of the Sage’s Wizards, after all. Fighting the calamity was a job he had to do, and never let anybody say Bradley wasn’t responsible.
He took a deep breath and stepped into the Manor. Surely, the twins wouldn’t be stupid enough to attack him before a battle against the calamity.
Bradley observed the gathered wizards and witches. A tired looking easterner with a hat was lecturing two wizards and one witch. Four southern wizards sat quietly. The western wizards were on the ceiling. Oz sat stoically in the middle of the central wizards—definitely avoid that area, Bradley noted to himself.
Then, the northern wizards…
“Bradley!” A young voice called out.
“Bradleyyy!” Another young voice echoed.
Bradley tensed up and looked at the source. The twins.
“Are you still angry with us?” Snow clung to Bradley’s arm.
“Come now! We’re too cute, you have to forgive us!” White grabbed Bradley’s other arm. He blinked innocently up at Bradley.
Bradley sneered. He would give those creepy twins a piece of his mind—
and he noticed Oz looking directly at him.
“How could I stay mad at you two freaky things? I escaped, so there’s no hard feelings.” Bradley declared. He was not going to piss Oz off right before a calamity battle. One stray lightning bolt would leave him dead.
“You’re such a good boy, Braddy-kins!” White beamed.
“Yeah, whatever.” Bradley scoffed. He tried to shake the twins off as he approached the other two northern wizards.
Owen grinned at him as he approached. Bastard.
Mithra stared as he approached. At least he looked well-rested.
“Mithra.” Bradley looked at him.
Mithra looked at Bradley. Wasn’t he going to say anything? Creepy bastard.
“…I don’t like owing people anything. I’ll watch your back during this fight, and that’s that, alright?” Bradley crossed his arms. “That makes us even.”
“Even for what?” Mithra leaned his head back slightly.
“For what you did. You remember.” Bradley scoffed.
“Oh. That. If you want us to be even, then let me have your mana stone.” Mithra extended his hand.
Bradley jumped back. “Definitely not! You’re sick, y’know that?”
“Are we taking Bradley’s mana stone? I want it.” Owen stepped forward.
“You’re even worse!” Bradley accused and pointed at Owen.
The two wizards’ menacing was interrupted by Oz standing up. Bradley followed his gaze.
The Calamity was starting.
——
In his defense, his original plan hadn’t been to run away. It annoyed Bradley how much running he had been doing recently.
Still, when Mithra declared the fight a lost cause and turned and bolted, Bradley followed him.
He had to, alright? He swore he’d watch Mithra’s back. He had to run after him. It was just the way his pact worked.
Bradley almost felt sheepish when the surviving wizards came out from the fight. He had never seen so many casualties against the calamity before. An eastern boy dragged the wizard who had been wearing a hat behind him, full of tears as he did so. That wizard wouldn’t be long for the world.
He glanced around and counted heads. Two western wizards, two central wizards, four southern wizards, two, and soon to be three, eastern wizards, all gone. That’d be like hell to replace.
Bradley watched as the blond eastern boy begged for somebody, anybody to help his teacher. To his surprise, Oz stepped up.
Couldn’t they all tell the hat wizard was going to die?
Bradley hovered nearby. The least he could do was make sure that the blond boy got to eat his teacher’s mana stone once he died. He wouldn’t let Owen or Mithra or even Oz snatch it away. That wouldn’t be right. Masters ate apprentices, or apprentices ate masters. That was the way it was.
That was what kept Bradley in the manor when the new Sage arrived. Bradley’s idea of kindness made him hang around.
Maybe that was fate.
Bradley was there when the first nine replacement wizards showed up. His eyes immediately settled on Figaro.
Figaro’s eyes twinkled when Bradley looked at him. Was it mirth? Mischievousness? He had an expression like the two of them were sharing a secret. He brought a finger up to his mouth, like he was shushing Bradley.
Bradley looked away. Creepy bastard.
“Sage?” Sherlock’s voice was smooth. He leaned toward Akira. “I believe we are missing one. An eastern wizard, yes?”
Akira looked uncertain and overwhelmed. He had just arrived. Bradley snorted. He was going to be eaten alive.
“Oh, eastern?” Snow perked up.
“Could it be?” White looked at Snow.
The twins both skipped off. What was going on?
“You think they keep a wizard in the basement?” Bradley leaned over to the hat wizard, Faust. “Heh. Bet that scares you, because that’s who you’ll have to teach.”
Faust, who was barely conscious, ignored Bradley.
Heathcliff spoke up instead, though his eyes were trained on the newly arrived wizards. “They did. They said they needed to store him…while they fought against the calamity.”
Bradley frowned. An eastern wizard? What the hell were the twins up to. “The fuck? Who’d they keep down there?”
“They said he’s called the Chef of Blood. They say he was in the City of Rain.” Heath spoke quietly. “His name is…”
Bradley couldn’t hear the rest of what Heath said. He didn’t have to.
Bradley stared at the wizard that the twins had brought back with them, his shirt sleeve pushed up to reveal his mark, confirming him as a Sage’s Wizard.
Dull yellow eyes. Messy blue hair. An exhausted expression, much worse than any Bradley had ever seen on him.
“…Nero.” Bradley breathed out.