Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

The interactions between charr and humans were unsteady, to say the least.

Adrien Agreste, a noble of Divinity’s Reach, had spoken to charr before, but only ever for a few brief moments. Actually, all his conversations with non-human races were short-lived.

The first time he had really interacted with a charr was when he dared to venture to the village of Shaemoor, outside the protection of Divinity’s Reach. He had intended to help the Seraph fend off the centaur attacks, as he was no stranger to fighting. In fact, he was one of the more combat-ready nobles. He technically identified as a guardian, even though he’d never worn heavy armour. His weapon of choice was a greatsword, though only his close friend Lord Faren and a few of his more trustworthy servants were aware of the fact.

He had encountered a strange charr on the road to Shaemoor. He had a few grey patches of fur amongst coal black, indicating he was much older than Adrien. His teeth were long and sharp, and his fur was torn in some places. This was someone who knew what fighting was.

“Human,” the charr had growled when Adrien met his fierce orange eyes. “I sense a great power lying dormant in you. Tell me, can you fight? Or is that greatsword a show of grandeur?”

“I can fight, sir,” Adrien had swiftly replied. The stories of Ascalon had been told to him many times. He knew it would be a bad idea to make an enemy of a charr.

The charr rumbled a noise of approval. “I can tell from your clothes that you lead a sheltered life. I can offer you freedom, but you must first prove yourself.”

Adrien couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that filled him. The promise of freedom had captured his interest. “How can I prove myself, sir?” he asked, trying not to seem too eager.

“I seek a future hero of Tyria,” the charr explained. “Someone who will protect the people of Kryta, Ascalon, the Shiverpeaks and the Maguuma Jungle alike. Someone with the potential to slay an Elder Dragon.”

“Slay an Elder Dragon?” Adrien echoed. He had heard stories of the horrible, powerful beasts, and seen the corruption of the undead dragon Zhaitan. His minions, the Risen, crawled through all corners of Tyria. “Sir, is that possible?”

“With strong alliances, it is,” the charr confirmed. “My allies and I almost slew Kralkatorrik. We failed, however. Now is the time for new heroes.” He let out a growl-like laugh. “You’ve passed the first test- listening. The hero I seek must appreciate history. Take this token to the Seraph captain, Logan Thackeray.” Adrien was passed what looked like the talon of a harpy. Before he could question it, the charr was gone.

Unsure but excited, Adrien had made his way to the Shaemoor garrison to meet with Captain Thackeray. The brunet had momentarily been surprised when the blond had presented him the harpy talon, but then he’d nodded. “Your timing is fortunate. The centaurs keep coming at us in waves- we’re doing the best we can, but our resources are severely limited. If you want to prove yourself, get in there and fight!”

Adrien had drawn his greatsword, trembling with anticipation as he made his way to the frontlines. He’d sparred with Lord Faren before, but this was different- now, things would be actively trying to kill him. Clad only in expensive silk, Adrien felt naked and vulnerable. A centaur wielding a sword and shield broke formation to charge at him, probably viewing him as an easy target. He held his greatsword with shaking hands as he braced for attack, praying to the Six Gods that he would make it through this.

His greatsword collided with the centaur’s sword, sending tremors down the blond’s arm, causing his grip to tighten around his weapon, knuckles turning white. Adrenaline surged through Adrien as he pulled his weapon back, swiftly striking at his opponent’s neck. He tried not to look as his blow struck true, the Tamini warrior staggering for a brief moment before collapsing, crimson flowing from his partially decapitated head. It was kill or be killed, Adrien reminded himself, even if he didn’t like it.

It took him a while, but he eventually got the hang of the whole fighting thing. That wasn’t to say he had walked away unharmed- he had quite the collection of bruises and scrapes, and a rather nasty gash he’d have to take care to keep hidden from his father. He’d disobeyed his wishes coming out here, after all. The centaur herds were starting to thin out, when a voice like thunder boomed across the landscape.

“Enough of this! I will deal with you myself.”

The remaining centaurs were quick to retreat, revealing a bigger, stronger-looking member of the Modniir tribe- at least, that was what what he appeared to be. Adrien found it odd the Tamini tribe would be working with the Modniir tribe, but he really didn’t have time to question it.

“Take down their leader!” Captain Thackeray was shouting. The Modniir centaur, a High Sage by the looks of its weapon and garb, narrowed its eyes at him.

“Pitiful humans. You think you can defeat me?” Some of the Seraph soldiers started to advance towards the seemingly vulnerable champion, but froze as it raised its staff and started chanting in another tongue. Dust and dirt flurried before the centaur, and whatever was happening, Adrien knew it wasn’t good. “Rise!”

The rock and earth formed together, towering above the garrison, and Adrien’s heart sank as he recognized a creature he’d only ever read about. It had to be a greater earth elemental.

“By all Six Gods, it’s huge!” one of the Seraph shouted. “What is that thing?”

“That, soldier, is a threat,” he heard Captain Thackeray reply. “Take it down! Its weak spot is its hands. For the queen!”

There were rallying shouts from the Seraph forces, charging towards the beast. Adrien hung back a little, observing the creature. Dark clouds formed around it, spewing out smaller earth elementals. He immediately knew this would be a harder fight than one with a Tamini centaur.

Suddenly, Adrien felt the ground underfoot shake. The Seraph soldiers closest to the elemental screamed, falling to the ground, injured. The blond had been protected from the shockwave by his distance from the monster, but a shiver ran down his spine nonetheless. Is this the power of a greater earth elemental?

Fear gripped his heart, but Adrien knew he had to help fight. Taking a deep breath, he adjusted his sweaty grip on his greatsword. Now more than ever, he was aware of his lack of armour. If he made one faulty step, he could die.

Rushing forwards, he swung his greatsword out in a wide arc, reducing some of the lesser elementals to stone and dirt once more. His green eyes were focused on the larger threat- he had to take out its hands before it killed everybody.

A chunk of debris hit him and he stumbled, his hands scraping against the ground. Gasping for air, he inspected his injuries. Small cuts covered his skin, blood trickling from some of them, but he could persevere. He would have to persevere.

Picking up his greatsword again, Adrien straightened up. He was almost at the elemental’s left hand. He sprinted forwards, trying to ignore his shortness of breath. Reaching the hand, he began to hack and slash at it wildly, watching the weapon slice through the formations of rock. He was no expert in the battlefield, but he could sense the elemental weakening.

Suddenly, the elemental slammed a hand down. Adrien was sent flying across the field, ending up on his back. He tried to get up, but found himself unable to move as a jolt of pain ran up his spine. He was now as helpless as many of the Seraph soldiers. No! he thought in despair. This isn’t happening, it can’t be!

As he lay on the ground, Adrien noticed the bright sheen of magma envelope the elemental’s right hand, quickly followed by several fireballs. The creature let out a roar of pain as its hand disintegrated.

Is that… an elementalist?

A small geyser erupted from the ground beside him. As the cool water washed over him, Adrien felt his bones mending, skin stitching itself together. The nearby Seraph soldiers received the same treatment.

A large spike of ice slammed into the elemental’s remaining hand. It roared again as a thick layer of frost began to spread from the point of impact.

Scrambling to his feet, Adrien glanced around for the mystery elementalist, but didn’t find anybody. Huh… that’s strange. Still, the elemental was currently incapacitated, the perfect time to strike. Picking up his greatsword once more, Adrien ran at the creature. Reckless, yes, but he figured he wouldn’t get another chance as good as this.

The moment his greatsword connected with the hand, it shattered. The elemental let out a final roar of pain, dirt flying everywhere.

“It’s not dead yet!” he heard Captain Thackeray yelling. “Brace yourselves, I think it’s going to explode!”

Hearing the warning, Adrien ducked to the ground, covering his head with his arms. He heard an earth-shaking boom, and felt the impact of rocks hitting his body. Darkness nibbled at the corners of his vision, before he blacked out.

“Ugh… where am I?” Adrien felt dizzy, and he had a throbbing headache. “What happened?”

“You’re in the hospital,” a feminine voice told him. A young woman wearing Dwayna’s regalia entered his field of vision. “You were injured when the elemental exploded. Captain Thackeray brought you here personally. You’ve been unconscious for three days.” She paused to let that sink in. “You’ve had a lot of visitors. Some villagers from Shaemoor, a few Seraph, and even a noble from the city. He came by several times.”

“That’d be Lord Faren,” Adrien explained. “He’s a good friend. I’ll have to go see him once I’m fully recovered. What should I do now?”

“Fresh air and exercise are the best medicine,” the priestess informed him with a smile. “The goddess Dwayna helped you. Perhaps you could help others?”

“Thanks, I will,” Adrien nodded. “And thanks for taking such good care of me.”

“Bless you. You’ll find plenty to do out in the valley,” she replied. “May Dwayna protect you. Your greatsword is leaning against the wall over there.” She indicated the weapon, before leaving, presumably to check on other patients.

Adrien slowly stood up. There was still stiffness in his muscles, but for the most part, he felt completely fine. Walking over to his greatsword, he reached out for it, then paused. He hadn’t noticed it at first, but there was a slight shimmer to the weapon now. He hesitated, unable to discern the cause, before cautiously putting one hand around the hilt.

Adrien felt a rush of magic wash over him, and blinked as he looked down at himself. He was shocked to find himself clad in black, iron armour- he didn’t feel any of it. With his free hand, he attempted to touch the metal- he succeeded. This is an illusion, he realized, but a tangible one. He’d read about this kind of magic before. Only high-level mesmers could do it. He wondered how his greatsword got such an enchantment.

Still, this was the perfect chance to venture out and truly make a name for himself. He’d take it.

Chapter Text

Adrien had barely entered the Salma District when he heard a familiar voice call, “Over here!” Turning around, the blond saw his close friend, Lord Faren, approaching with a wide grin on his face.

“The hero of Shaemoor returns!” Faren greeted, and Adrien almost winced. He wasn’t the true hero of Shaemoor- that title belonged to the mystery elementalist who had saved him and the Seraph forces. “Come and see how friends and neighbours alike have turned out to welcome you home!”

“A party, Faren? For me?” Adrien asked, though a small smile crossed his face as he looked at the large crowds of people milling just ahead. He’d been to a few parties among the nobility before, but he’d never been an important guest. It was a new feeling, one he decided he liked. “Or is it just an excuse to get your friends together and see what’s in my wine cupboard?” It was a joke, of course- Adrien couldn’t drink. His father wouldn’t let him have even a sip of alcohol. As a result, most of the alcohol he owned was meant for Faren’s consumption anyway.

“Nonsense! Heroes are always popular,” Faren defended himself, and there was that hero word again. Adrien wasn’t a hero. “These nice people simply insisted on congratulating you and celebrating your brave victory.”

“And you insisted on breaking out my finest food and drink for the occasion.”

“You deserve no less. Still, I can’t take all the credit,” Faren chuckled. “Your household staff was most helpful, even eager, to facilitate the process.” Which meant that his father knew about his exploits. Adrien resisted the temptation to sigh- he would be in for a lecture later. “I wish my servants loved me half as much,” Faren continued. “But then again, I am lovable in other ways.”

And the less said about that, the better, Adrien thought, knowing well his friend’s inflated ego. “Come on. Let’s go enjoy the party- and my finest roast duck and brandy.”

Faren sauntered off. Adrien began to do the same. Servants constantly offered him snacks and refreshments, most of which he politely declined with a smile. After a while, he found himself swept into a conversation with a noble he knew as Baroness Yolanda.

“It gladdens my heart to see you well, my lord,” she trilled, beaming as she held out a hand towards him. “Praise be to Dwayna for keeping you safe. You’re as brave as you are handsome.”

Adrien took her hand and bowed over it, smiling back politely. He was well accustomed to Yolanda’s flirting, though he still wasn’t sure whether she genuinely liked him or whether it was just in her personality. “Thank you, Baroness. Have I missed anything important?”

“Oh, times are grim,” Yolanda twittered. “The Ministry Guard does their best to protect us, but the Seraph are unforgivably lax. Centaurs are everywhere outside the city, and thieves are everywhere within!”

“That is unfortunate,” Adrien replied, though his mind was churning with the information. Thieves within Divinity’s Reach? “Excuse me, I should mingle. Enjoy the party, Baroness.”

The next person he talked to he knew as Lady Mashewe. “Dwayna bless Captain Thackeray for saving you,” she greeted, a half-filled glass of bubbly champagne in her hand. “You look fit and well!”

“Thank you, my lady,” Adrien smiled, though his mind wasn’t fully there. I’ve never heard of thieves within Divinity’s Reach. Outside the city, yes, but inside… “Your concern is touching.”

“I wasn’t the only one concerned,” Lady Mashewe replied, delicately holding her free hand to her heart. “You have many friends who think highly of you.” But how many of them know the true me? “My mother even prayed for you!”

“Give your mother my best, and enjoy the party,” Adrien said distractedly. The information about the bandits still weighed on his mind. I can’t stay here… I’ll just be distant. Where’s Faren? The blond noble began to search for his friend, finding him lingering near the outskirts of the partygoers.

“Do you enjoy the festivities, old friend?” Faren asked as he spotted Adrien approaching. He nodded quickly.

“Yes, but I think I’m done.”

“I’m outgrowing this party myself,” his friend responded. “I’ll tell the servants we’re leaving.”

“Sounds good. Thanks,” Adrien quickly thanked him. Faren walked away, and he turned back to the large crowd who had gathered in celebration of his- or what they viewed as his- victory.

Suddenly, he heard a scream, followed by Faren’s voice cutting sharply through the air angrily. “Take your hands off of me, you scum! Help! Murder! Mayhem!”

Adrien’s hands went to the greatsword sheathed on his back without even thinking, the illusionary black armour appearing as soon as the weapon was brought to bear. Turning, he quickly realized the source of the chaos- bandits. Their tattered uniforms, messy hair and unwashed smell made them easily identifiable. If they’re in the city, of course they would use a large gathering like a party to cause havoc! Ah, I better deal with them quick… Faren was yelling. It sounded like he was in trouble!

A cutpurse approached him, brandishing twin daggers. His ugly face was set in a leer, and Adrien gritted his teeth. Come on, Adrien… it may be another human, but it’s a human that would take your life, and anyone else’s, without remorse. Don’t get cold feet now! Inhaling sharply, he rushed forwards, swinging his greatsword in a wide arc that had become familiar to him. He saw the bandit’s eyes widen as realization dawned on them, and he felt his weapon slice into flesh. The guardian averted his eyes from the gruesome sight, focusing straight ahead- he knew better than to focus on the red that would be streaming from the still, lifeless body.

Two thugs rushed at him, their shields held defensively, ready to strike out with their maces. Adrien knew his greatsword could bite through the flimsy metal of their shields, but it would take a few extra seconds. The blond also knew those few extra seconds could cost him his life- he needed to take them out immediately. A technique came to mind, one that he’d seen one of the Seraph using. Adjusting his grip, he swung his weapon out, spinning his entire body as he did so. He became a whirlwind of destruction, a much stronger force. At the last moment, a thought occurred to him, and Adrien aimed his technique lower, so that the inevitable injuries would cripple, but not kill.

His idea succeeded as the two thugs collapsed on top of each other, groaning as they clutched their sides. Adrien knew it wasn’t necessary to go any further- the Seraph would be by soon enough and they could arrest the two then- if they didn’t bleed out first. The thought made Adrien nauseous.

He felt a sting in his right shoulder, and looked to see that a bullet had bitten into his flesh. It wasn’t anything major, barely having managed to punch through his armour, and he quickly tracked it to the source. The bandit scout had a rifle pointed at him, a torch wielded in their off hand. Adrien swallowed thickly, wondering how to approach a ranged enemy- in the battle of Shaemoor, the centaur archers had been thoroughly distracted by the Seraph forces. Here, the scout was completely focused on him, and he was the only combatant. Fear rooted him to the spot for a moment, and he barely broke out of the trance in time to quickly dodge out of the way of another bullet.

Pull yourself together, Adrien! A ranged enemy didn’t have to change his approach. He might get a little more roughed up, but as long as he was alive, that was a price he was willing to pay. Medical facilities were easily accessible in Divinity’s Reach.

Bracing himself for the sting of more bullets, he made his way towards the scout. One of the shots dug into his chestplate, but didn’t pierce flesh. He wasn’t so lucky with the next bullet, which bit into his helm, scratching his cheek. He grimaced, feeling warm, sticky blood trickle down his face, fighting the instinct to flee.

Filled with determination, Adrien gritted his teeth against the pain. He was a few strides away from the bandit. Ranged weapon. It’s either you kill them, or disarm them. The choice was simple. With a swing of his greatsword, he brought the bandit to her knees. He didn’t know what he hit, but it was enough to leave her helpless. He kicked her pistol away, stomping on the torch to snuff out the flames. He tried to ignore the new bloodstains on his greatsword.

The bandits had retreated by now. Adrien noticed a shaking servant, making his way over. “I heard Faren shouting. Where is he?”

“I saw those ruffians dragging him down the street. They’re going to kill him!” They were nearly in hysterics.

“Calm down.” Adrien placed a soothing hand on the servant’s shoulder. “See to the other guests and make sure no one else has been harmed. I’ll go after Faren.”

After the servant went to carry out the order, Adrien continued down the street, his footsteps hurried but cautious. If you were a bandit, where would you hide? His search led him to a small, two-storey house. He could hear movement inside. With any luck, this’ll be the one.

The door, much to his surprise, was unlocked. It swung open without complaint, revealing a black-haired, female bandit with twin daggers. She was backed by a thug and scout.

“Soon, you’ll beg me for death,” she smirked, confidence- no, arrogance- clear in her tone. It’s a three against one fight, and they don’t think I’m anything special, Adrien realized. Time to prove them wrong. I was chosen for a reason, right?

The thug was his primary target. Daggers would struggle to pierce metal, and bullets were less dangerous to him than a sword.

He ran forwards, sweeping his greatsword in a wide arc. It met with the bandit’s shield with a loud clang. He quickly swapped to an overhead strike. His hands shook with knowledge of what could happen, causing the angle of his strike to be slightly off. It managed to slice deep into the bandit’s shoulder, but that was enough. The thug yelled in pain, letting his sword drop to the floor. By the Six Gods, there’s so much blood! Adrien felt like he was about to be sick, judging by the foul taste in the back of his throat. No, pull yourself together, Adrien! Real heroes on the battlefield are surrounded by blood, even covered in it!

He heard the bang of a gunshot at the same time the bandit leader sprang at him. He didn’t think, simply slashing at the cutpurse. I killed her, he realized as her body fell to the ground. Oh Gods-

He was snapped back to reality by a sharp pain running down his left arm. “Ah!” Right, I forgot the scout! Pay more attention, Adrien!

He ran forwards, swiping his greatsword into the bandit’s side, careful to avoid vital areas. They stumbled, before slipping to the ground, paralyzed.

“A little help here!” Adrien heard a familiar voice shout from upstairs. Rushing upstairs, he quickly freed his friend from the rope bindings. His fingers fumbled with the knots, managing to get them undone with some effort.

“Am I pleased to see you!” Faren exclaimed, rubbing his raw wrists. “Though if you wanted me to leave the party, a ‘Begone, freeloader!’ would have sufficed.”

Adrien couldn’t help but chuckle despite his shaking hands and the sickening scent of blood still filling his nose. “Okay, Faren, I’ll take note of that. Any idea who those bandits were or what they wanted?”

“Not really.” Faren shook his head. “I did hear them discussing a farmhouse in Shaemoor. They were going to lock me up there with the rest of the hostages.”

Then I have more work to do. “I can’t save you and leave the others. I’m going after them.”

“Count me in,” Faren replied immediately. “I may not be a centaur-killing berserker like you, but I can take care of myself. I’ll meet you there.”

Adrien nodded gratefully. He may not be Seraph, but any help is appreciated. “Thank you, Faren.”

“Don’t mention it, old friend.” Faren sauntered off, presumably to prepare. Adrien sheathed his greatsword, his armour evaporating off him like water. He noticed the blood staining his silk shirt, and grimaced. Looks like I get to visit the hospital again…

These were the sacrifices heroes made, he supposed. He’d have to get used to it.

Chapter Text

So this is the place…

Adrien stared at the abandoned farmhouse in front of him. The architecture was unlike any in Divinity’s Reach, and the paint was peeling. The windows were cracked if not entirely smashed. The place was small and far too quiet to hold hostages, but he’d heard of expansive underground basements. He unsheathed his greatsword, appreciating the sense of security his weapon gave him. Plus, there was armour if he got ambushed by bandits.

“Time to make those bandits regret crashing your party!” Hearing a familiar cocky voice, Adrien turned with a slight smile on his face. Sure enough, Faren was sauntering towards him. What surprised him was the girl walking behind his friend. She had hair dark as night parted into pigtails and bluebell eyes. She wore a red mask with five black spots, and her dress-like outfit followed the same motif, though with many more spots. She held a wooden staff which shimmered much like his own weapon, and tongues of flame licked harmlessly at her hands and wrists. An elementalist…

Their eyes met, and Adrien felt a jolt. I don’t know her, so why does she seem so familiar?

“I’ve got my sword and sensible fighting attire.” Faren’s voice pulled Adrien out of his thoughts. “Am I missing anything?”

The blond chuckled. Nothing could change Faren. “I think you’re good, Faren.” His eyes drifted back to the girl. “If you don’t mind my asking, who are you?”

“I’m Ladybug,” she introduced herself. Adrien immediately knew it was an alias. Is it to do with the shimmering weapon? Should I use an alias too? He quickly thought. Black… cat? I’m pretty agile… Chat Noir? “What about you?”

“Chat Noir,” he tried tentatively. When Ladybug accepted it, he knew he hadn’t done anything odd. He then noticed Faren raising his eyebrows.

“And I am the magnificent Ladykiller!”

“...Excuse me?” Ladybug deadpanned. Faren quickly realised his mistake.

“A-Ah, as in heartbreaker, miss! No, I mean-”

Adrien cut across him, addressing Ladybug. “What are you doing here?”

“Same reason as you. Rescuing the hostages.”

Adrien nodded. Clearly, Ladybug was capable of defending herself. “Okay, but stay close to me. I don’t want you-”

“-getting hurt?” The twist of her lips indicated amusement. “Don’t worry about me. I’m not afraid of bleeding a little. In the commoner lifestyle, it’s not just men that fight.”

Adrien was speechless. She’s… quite the spitfire. Faren seemed to be thinking along similar lines.

“A warrior woman, eh?” Faren smirked. “You know, my mentor, Swordmaster Bongo the One-Eyed, told my parents I was the best student he’d ever-”

“That’s nice,” the ravenette interrupted. “Anyway, we shouldn’t dawdle. Chat Noir, shall we head in?”

Adrien couldn’t help but grin at his friend’s expense. Clearly, Ladybug knew how to deal with people like him. “I think that would be a good idea.”

Faren seemed a little crestfallen by the quick shutdown, but he swiftly bounced back. “Yes, let us make haste. A hero gets all the fair maidens, after all.”

Ladybug met Adrien’s gaze through his helm, seeming to ask, ‘Is he always like this?’ He just nodded. Faren had been extremely woman-oriented for as long as they’d known each other.

He lead the way inside the farmhouse. It was completely empty, moss-covered floorboards creaking beneath their feet. However, there was a staircase leading down. “Could they be down there?”

“It’s likely,” Ladybug agreed. “I’ve flushed out a few bandit groups before, and they prefer to hide in places that seem empty. Be warned, they’ll greatly outnumber us.”

“May I go first?” Adrien asked cautiously. He didn’t want Ladybug to think he was implying that she needed to be protected- she’d already made her stance clear on that.

“Go ahead,” Ladybug replied, walking to the top of the staircase and peering down. “Tactically speaking, it makes the most sense anyway. If we get ambushed, guardians are better at taking hits than elementalists and…” She glanced at Faren. “...warriors…” She said ‘warriors’ in that slow tone people used when they were skeptical of something. Faren was none the wiser.

Bringing his greatsword into a ready position, Adrien started down the stairs. Soon enough, he heard rough voices speaking below.

“Are you sure we’re safe here?” one of the bandits asked. “A lot of our wounded got arrested. They might rat us out.”

“They won’t say a word,” the other bandit replied confidently. “Not even the most foolish bandit would face our wrath.” Adrien shuddered at the implications of that sentence.

“Ladybug?” he whispered, asking guidance from the masked elementalist behind him. She spoke after a few moments of silence.

“I’ve got an idea, move over.” Adrien obediently shuffled to the side as Ladybug stepped forwards. Droplets of water splashed her wrists in contrast to the previous fire, and the blond felt relief rush through him. The water element held no intent to kill.

She softly slammed the end of her staff into the ground, an icy chill entering the air. Adrien shuddered involuntarily, before noticing a small layer of frost spreading beneath the two unaware bandits’ feet. By the time they realized what was happening, their ankles were frozen in place by the ice. It then quickly crept up to cover their mouths to prevent them from screaming.

“The ice won’t hold forever. Faren, knock them out with the pommel of your sword as you pass,” Ladybug instructed. Faren nodded, eager to please her. Adrien couldn’t blame him. “Chat Noir, take the lead, and be ready for a fight. Once we’re inside, stealth is impossible.”

Adrien nodded. He was expecting that- mesmers and thieves were the masters of stealth, after all. Their little trio had neither of those.

He adjusted his grip- perhaps it was a nervous habit. His usual tick required a free hand, after all. He then started forwards, noticing the lack of clattering from his armour. A way in which illusionary armour was superior to real iron, he supposed. Despite the lack of opportunity for stealth in the current situation, it could be useful in the future.

In the future… Adrien couldn’t deny the very idea sent thrills down his spine. He recalled what the charr had said- “I seek a future hero of Tyria. Someone who will protect the people of Kryta, Ascalon, the Shiverpeaks and the Maguuma Jungle alike. Someone who the potential to slay an Elder Dragon.” He’d been chosen for a reason, right? The charr had obviously seen potential in him. This little bandit hunt was just the root of his story.

There were a few bandits standing guard inside the cave mouth, muttering to each other. Likely they were bored with sentry duty. Well, bandits somehow get enjoyment from senseless violence, so I guess they won’t be bored for much longer. He glanced over his shoulder, looking for a signal to proceed. It came in the form of a nod.

He immediately started attacking, bringing his greatsword into the closest bandit’s side. He realized a moment later that this was a mistake as his adversary let loose a scream of pain, alerting every bandit in the cave of their presence. The group of about fifteen swarmed them, and Adrien heard a snarling voice ring out above the rest.

“Kill them all! They would do the same to you!”

Not if you just surrendered! Adrien screamed in his mind, but he did not have long to dwell on it. A sword-wielding thug lunged for him, and he was forced to bring his greatsword up to block. They glared at him, musky breath filling the air between them. Before either of them could act, however, Adrien heard footsteps behind him. Panicking slightly, he turned to meet the new threat. It turned out to be a cutpurse, completely unable to cause him any real harm while he wore his armour. He then found out what it felt like to have a sword and shield slam into his back. He shouted a curse in Grenth’s name, aware of the bruising that had to be forming. Though he could not feel the weight of his armour, the sensation of it jarring his back was vivid.

Something akin to instinct guided his hands into a technique he’d used back in the Salma District, becoming a spinning force of destruction once more. When he finished, both bandits lay dead on the ground. Trying to ignore it, he glanced around, seeing Faren trying to fend off three bandits at once. He made his way towards his friend, intending to help out, before noticing a cutpurse creeping up behind the noble. Faren’s expensive clothing couldn’t protect him from the sneaky strike. “Faren, watch out! Behind you!”

Hearing the warning, Faren whirled around, but not quick enough. Adrien could only watch as the dagger cut deep into his oldest friend’s abdomen. Time seemed to stop for a moment.

The fury of Balthazar filled his body, and for a precious few seconds, any coherent thought was lost. When his senses returned, he stood over the bodies of four very dead bandits. Adrien was struck by terror at his own actions. How could he lose control of himself like that? If he lost comprehension to emotion every he saw an ally’s blood, well… one day, an innocent might pay the price.

There were three of the bandits left. Two of them ran for their lives, leaving the leader. He had long black hair tied back in a ponytail, and glittering brown eyes. His dry, flaky lips drew back into a sneer, showing cracked, yellowed teeth. He wielded twin pistols, and despite the overwhelming odds, refused to back down.

“Chat, you take care of the leader! I’ve got Faren,” Ladybug called, running up to kneel by the bleeding noble.

“I think not,” the leader said coldly. He raised his pistols, and Adrien realized too late he was aiming for Ladybug. For the second time in a single battle, his heart stopped.

It only resumed beating when he realized the bullet had not hit true, though the trickle of blood running down her right forearm still made him queasy.

Ladybug clenched her fists as she stood up, seeming to grit her teeth. She called out a foreign word, spinning her staff above her head before slamming it into the ground forcefully. Magical rain began to fall above the injured pair. He saw the bullet shell pop out of her forearm and fall to the ground as fire curled around her wrists again. Then, like a flash of lightning, she had cast another spell. Before he could look, Adrien heard a scream. He slowly turned, before wincing. The bandit was still alive, but he was covered in pretty serious burns.

“He will live, and he will recover.” Ladybug’s voice was cold. She glanced back at Faren. “My magic is basic. Your wound is closed, but you will have a scar. My healing is not seamless.”

“A scar, you say? Spectacular! Now I will have proof of my heroic exploits- all the ladies will love me even more than they already do.”

Adrien shook his head in exasperation, though he was smiling. Making his way over to the writhing body of the leader, he found a set of keys. He retrieved them with some difficulty, knowing they would be needed to free the hostages.

They headed up a steep slope, which lead to a large, rock platform. Cages lined the edges, all holding people from the city and surrounding villages, including some children.

Adrien immediately went to free them, receiving many thanks from the captured villagers, nobles and servants.

“Even Grenth is too merciful for those bandits,” the final servant growled. “Stealing may be a crime, but locking people up? That’s even more unforgivable.”

“Yes, of course,” he agreed quickly, though privately the fact that he’d more or less wished death on the bandits made his stomach churn. “Look, it’s not safe for you here. You have to get back to safety.”

“I’ll head back to the city, but before I do, I managed to swipe these papers from one of the bandits.” The servant withdrew some documents from a hidden fold in his clothes. “I read over them, and they mentioned some kind of leader in Divinity’s Reach. Is that helpful?”

A leader within the city? The information alarmed Adrien. While it explains a lot of things, it also makes everything a lot more complicated… and dangerous. “It is. Thank you. Now please, hurry.”

The rescued hostages needed no further encouragement, hurrying to the exit. Adrien brought up the rear with Ladybug and Faren, meeting with Captain Thackeray and a small squadron of Seraph soldiers. Faren opened his mouth to speak, but Ladybug cut across him.

“Captain Thackeray,” she greeted with a respectful dip of her head. “As you can see, we have successfully rescued the hostages.”

“I’m… amazed,” the Seraph captain replied. “That being said, I should have expected no less of the two of you.”

“Sir, one of the servants lifted some documents from the bandits. Someone within the city is calling the shots.” Adrien withdrew the papers he’d been given.

“That is concerning,” Logan commented, seconding Adrien’s thoughts. “This parchment is quite expensive. There’s a papermaker named Cin Fursarai. He’s not easy to get along with, but I’m certain he could identify who the parchment was sold to.”

“Chat Noir and I will talk to the papermaker.” Adrien was surprised by Ladybug’s voluntary offering of his services, but did not complain. Ladybug seemed to know more about heroism than he did- he could learn from her. “We can find out who’s pulling the strings without people knowing that the Seraph know of the traitor in the city.”

“Clever,” Captain Thackeray said thoughtfully. “Very well, you can go ahead. I will notify Queen Jennah.” He began to walk away. Ladybug started to do the same, then paused.

“Meet me at Shaemoor at tomorrow’s first light.”

“Got it.”