Chapter Text
Serj looked around the desolate campsite, searching for who resided within. There were fresh tracks of man and cat all over the camp, and the mage knew the mysterious bandit he was looking for was near. Concentrating his energy, Serj created a small orb of light that hovered above his palm. Dusk was splaying her palm upon the lands, the days were short in the season of winter. A chilly wind drifted through the forest.
Wandering further into the site, Serj felt eyes upon him, and he knew he had caught the man's attention. He paused, looking around. "Hello?" Serj called out into the darkness. Silence responded, the silence of animals. And that was a good enough answer for him. He shut his eyes, spreading his consciousness through the forest, trying to pinpoint the exact location of the man. A quick rustling of leaves ruined his concentration. Serj's eyes darted around the treeline, sweat beading on his forehead. Darkness had already came upon him. He closed his eyes again.
No sound of animals, no sound of man, but there was someone hiding. They were very stealthy, maybe under some magic to conceal their location. Or maybe they moved too quick for his magic to locate them. And Serj realized that too late when cold, sharp steel pressed up against his throat.
"Nice to meet you," he said calmly, sending the orb of light in front of him. It illuminated the face of an angry, sharp-toothed black panther. "Ah," Serj said, watching the drool drip from its mouth.
"Who the fuck are you?" The person who was holding the sword up to Serj's neck hissed. He pressed the blade closer up to his arteries, close enough to add pressure but not to cut the skin.
"I'm a mage. Could you put that sword away, perhaps?" He asked politely.
"Are you fucking stupid? Do you have no sense of danger?"
"You don't need to be swearing so much."
The cat then nuzzled up to Serj, a deep purr rising from its throat. The bandit paused. "Atseli, we're being mad right now!" He huffed, unconsciously dropping the blade the slightest bit from Serj's neck. That gave the mage enough time to slip out of the bandit's grasp, casting a spell with a flick of his hands. A rope composed of light energy flew out from Serj's rings, wrapping around the bandit's wrists and knocking him back with the force. His sword flew across the site, landing in the ground a few feet away.
"What the hell— Atseli! Get his ass!" The now bound outlaw whined, kicking his feet hopelessly against his ground and cloak. The panther, Atseli, just rubbed itself on Serj's pants, still purring. He smiled, scratching the cat's head while Serj's former oppressor whined and rolled on the ground. When the mage turned back to the man on the ground, the panther whined sadly and finally took his spot next to his owner.
"You're shorter than I expected," Serj observed, kneeling at the bandit's side. "I'm gonna take off your hood, if you don't mind." He grasped the man's cloak hood.
"Bitch, don't do that!" He kicked his feet, to no avail. Serj lifted the hood up, revealing the bandit's face. He had a rugged look to him, other than the eyeliner. He also had unique twin beards and wide eyes. His messy hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat. "Ah— gods, you useless cat," he pouted at Atseli.
"The cat didn't do anything." Serj examined the outlaw for any possible facial injuries. Finding none, he guided him to sit up. "What's your name?"
"I don't need to tell you that!"
"Well, unless you want me to keep the bonds on your wrists…" Serj dragged out, completely aware that he now had the power in this situation.
"…Ugh. It's Daron." He spat out.
"Nice to meet you, Daron! I'm Serj. I hear you're a bandit around these areas." Serj tapped the ties with his rings, dissipating them into sparks of light.
"Yeah? And?" Daron attempted to lunge for his sword, but he groaned in pain. Atseli padded up to Daron, providing him support as he struggled to stand. He threw his arm over the panther, leaning on him as he shakily stood up.
"Are you hurt? What's wrong?" Serj frowned, scanning Daron again for any injuries.
Daron let out a gasp of pain, his knees buckling. "I'm not hurt!" The way he grasped at his side told Serj that he was lying, though.
"Let me see, I'll help," he offered, "I know some healing spells." Serj reached out his hands to see the wound, but hesitated. "May I?"
"No." Daron spat.
"You've got no one else. Based by the way you were writhing around earlier, you may have reopened the would or irritated it, which could very well lead to infection… and you can't fight very well with an infected wound, can you? Especially if you die from it."
He looked around warily, trying to analyze if this was a trap or not. Hesitantly, he stepped towards Serj. "If I let my guard down, and you kill me, I'm gonna be really fucking pissed at that." Daron lifted his tank top, revealing a deep gash down his side.
Serj winced at the wound, and he summoned an orb of light to get a good look at it. "I don't have a reason to kill you." He looked over at Atseli and commanded him to sit with a flick of his wrist, and Daron sunk down with him so he was half lying on the ground, half on Atseli.
"It's insane how you get him to listen to you like that," Daron murmured. He turned back to Serj, who was intently examining the wound. "Well, you do, actually. I tried to kill you."
"That was out of defense. I was in your space anyways. Don't move, this might sting a bit." Serj pulled out an elixir from his satchel, pouring it on the wound. Daron let out a sharp hiss of pain, his hand clenching tightly. "Sorry…" He began cleaning the wound with a mix of magic and physical items. Daron watched him work intently, with a hint of distrust.
"Why do you care so much? I literally pressed my sword to your throat and tried to kill you," he asked, trying to find out Serj's intentions for him.
"Well, I heard that there was a bandit around here, one who could communicate with and tame even the most intimidating animals. One who was as talented with the strings as he was with sword and stealth," he explained, eyes not moving from his work on the wound. He was sticking the wound together with some mysterious liquid from an unlabeled vial.
Flustered, Daron looked away. "They really say that stuff about me…? It's not that serious…"
"It's that serious!" Serj asserted. "I want you to join my party."
Daron's head whipped back around. "Join your party? Party for what!? I don't do that shit!"
"It's worth a try! You're an independent traveler because you're tired of the king, aren't you? He's got a really big bounty on his head in my community, but I'm not hunting him down for the money." Serj paused, putting the final bandages on Daron's wounds. When he spoke again, his voice was more melancholy. "He sent an army for my old village. Everything burned. My childhood house, my school, the path I used to walk with my old friends… I need him gone."
Daron looked at Serj, really looked at him. "You seem to know a lot about me," he finally said.
"It's just base information that I know just because I know how to use my brain. I don't really know know you." He pulled Daron's tank top back down. "Like how I know you don't eat well because of how your ribs are jutting out."
Daron crossed his arms, looking away. "Hard to find food when you've got a bounty on your head. I live off of whatever I can hunt and steal."
"If you join my party, you won't have to deal with that." Serj offered his arm for Daron to grab, and his shoulder for him to lean on. When Daron rested his full weight on him, he was surprised by how light he was. "Gods, you really need to eat more. Where did you even get that wound from?"
"Bounty on my head, as I said before. They almost got me." He pointed to his sword, which lay on the ground nearby. "Atseli, fetch." The panther obediently walked over to the dark steel sword and held it in his mouth, bringing it over to Daron so he could sheathe it. Daron looked up at Serj when he began walking. "Where are we going?"
Serj walked slowly to avoid placing stress on Daron's wound. "To the local inn. I have a room there."
"What if they recognize me?"
"It's a fairly small town. And even so…" He paused to put Daron's hood back over his head. "I'll just say you're my little brother or something similar. You could certainly pass as it."
"Whatever." He rolled his eyes, resting his head on Serj's shoulder as they walked to the town, Atseli following close behind. When they approached the inn, Daron dismissed Atseli into the forest to not catch any attention. He tensed up and pressed himself to Serj when they walked through the lobby, afraid of catching any attention. It felt like everyone was watching him, but no one said a word. When they finally made it into their room, Serj gave him a bag of beef jerky he had in his satchel.
"You can have the bed, I'll have the couch." Serj walked over to the bag in the corner of the room, digging through it for a change of clothes for both of them. He tossed Daron a shirt and pajama pants that would certainly be too big for him, but they would have to work since it was too late for the village market to be open. They both turned their backs to each other for privacy as they changed, but Daron snuck in a few glances at the other. Serj carried himself with an air that he admired, and with such grace that almost did not fit his body. Still, Daron thought it looked good on him. When he finished putting on the clothes he was offered, he plopped down on the bed and began snacking on the beef jerky. Serj sat down on the couch, opening some giant book about spells and magic.
"Hey," Daron began, his mouth still full, "can you tell me more about the king? Like, why'd he burn down your village? I'm not caught up on the news."
Serj sighed, folding the corner of the page he was currently on. He lifted his gaze towards Daron. "He's crossed a lot of lines, like trying to limit more complex and offensive magic use to the royals. It'll single-handedly affect the everyday lives of people, especially mages and magic centered villages. People like me. And he's already began to crack down on it. The rules aren't as strict here because it's the southern territories, but he'll come for us soon enough. And it's stupid how he's trying to take away such a core aspect of our lives, something that our ancestors have been doing since the beginning of time. He's been corrupt, but… it's too far now."
Daron listened intently, nodding his head. "My mom was a mage."
"Oh?"
"…She passed away. Cold front."
"You're from the northern territories?"
"Yeah. What about it?" Daron said, almost defensively.
"Nothing. It makes sense, since you have a dark steel sword. That material is way less expensive there."
"'Cause it's more common."
"I know."
Silence rested upon them. Before it got too awkward, Daron spoke again. "Can you teach me? Complex magic? My mom died before she could, but she promised I'd learn some day."
"It's a very lengthy process that involves lots of patience, especially for those 'cool' spells."
"I have patience!"
"Somehow I doubt that."
Daron threw a cushion at Serj, but he caught it midair with telekinesis.
"Oh, fuck you!" Daron pouted. He rolled around in the sheets, turning his back to Serj.
After a while, Serj sent a gust of wind to blow the bedside candle out, preparing for sleep. But every time he slipped into near sleep, Daron moved, interrupting his rest. Serj rolled over on the couch, looking over to Daron's silhouette. The curve of his back was lined with moonlight. "Can't sleep?" Serj asked, his voice groggy and deep.
"Sorry. I don't really sleep at night." Daron sat up, his back against the headboard.
"Do you want to talk?" Serj offered.
"Yeah, why not. What about?"
Serj sat up as well. "Well, we could tell each other more about ourselves. Since we'll be journeying together, I don't want you to feel like you're talking to a stranger."
"Ah. Okay," Daron paused. "I don't know where to start."
"You could talk about your childhood."
Daron cleared his throat. "Well, okay. I was born in the northern territories, as you already know. My father was a blacksmith… craftsman, and my mother was a mage. Both were incredible artists, though. She sculpted, he painted and did a lot more things." He looked over at Serj to make sure he was still listening. Satisfied, he continued. "I ended up getting involved in a different art. Music. Music was everything to me—during my 12th birthday my dad not only forged me a sword but crafted me a guitar. My mother taught me the magic to turn the guitar 'on' and how to get different tones on it." He wiped his nose. "I really, really miss her."
Serj got up, taking a seat next to Daron on the bed. "Tell me more," he urged. "About your mom, if you wish."
"Man," Daron unconsciously leaned closer to him. "She was fucking awesome. She ran a lot of patrols for village protection and hunting. She was actually the one who taught me how to hunt. When I told her I could communicate to animals, she actually encouraged it and helped me hone those skills under her supervision."
"Hey, Daron."
"Huh?"
"Was it the cold front during the Second Great War that took her life?"
"…Yeah. Why?" He tensed up.
Serj reached for Daron's hand, rubbing small circles into it. He tensed up even more, before finally relaxing. "The king… there were attempts to send relief and aid to those territories. Blankets, mages well versed in heat magic, and food. But he… he prevented aid from coming, probably because he thought the potential cost wasn't worth all the lives. Money over men. And I fear that is why your mother passed. If she was as dedicated to her village as you recounted, she may have spent all her magic on helping her people and could have ran out of magic to keep herself warm."
Daron's eyes were wide, and he was staring off into nothing. He slipped his hand into Serj's, tightening his grip to near pain. "I'm gonna fucking kill him. He killed my mom."
"That's why I want him gone," Serj whispered. He stretched out his hand to stop Daron's grip from getting too painful. When he turned towards Daron, he looked into his eyes and saw pure hate. "Hey, Daron. If you take that rage and bottle it up, you can turn it into magic that can fuel offensive spells."
"…How do I do that?"
"Well, imagine a bottle or a jar. Open it."
"Okay? I did it."
"Now imagine yourself pouring your negative emotions, your hate and sadness, into the jar. If it overflows, make another jar."
Daron let out a deep breath, squeezing his eyes shut. His shoulders relaxed as he presumably emptied his rage into the mental jars. "I think that's it."
"Now store those jars somewhere safe. And when it comes to it, you can open them and use it for magic."
"You know a lot about magic. Where did you learn? Tell me about yourself."
Serj tapped his fingers on his chin, leaning forward to look at Daron's face. "I was born and raised in the southern territories in a very magic-centered village. My father and mother were great mages, but my father was a priest for the war god. Both composed spells and passed their knowledge of magic down to me. I attended a school that taught us how to harness and use magic for good."
"Dude, that's sick as hell." Daron said excitedly. "What else did they teach you?"
"Well, they also taught how to make and use magical items, elixir brewing… Everything you could possibly know. That school had a great library. It went down in the blaze, but I'm sure that the librarian took the most important books with her upon evacuation." Serj solemnly turned his hands to his rings, and recalled something. "Oh, about my rings… they're magic enhancers, a graduation gift from my parents. They can hold extra magic and amplify the power of my spells."
Daron grabbed Serj's hands, looking at the rings upon both his middle fingers. In the center were cloudy, red gems. The gold was engraved with intricate designs. "Wow…"
"The cloudier the gems get, the more magic they store." Serj explained.
Daron turned his hands from left to right, examining them with curiosity. "They're pretty. Must have been a talented goldsmith."
"I agree." Serj smiled. He let Daron look at them for a few more seconds before speaking again. "You said you could talk to animals, right? How'd you find that out? Do you know how it developed?"
"I think it was just some kind of thing I was born with. I'd make friends with street cats, stray dogs… and one time, during hunting, I got a grizzly bear that was chasing a fawn to piss off. After that, I played around with talking to bigger, more dangerous animals, bears, mountain lions, and such. They're misunderstood. They just do what they need to survive." Daron fidgeted with his fingers as he spoke.
"You're right. I think animals have bigger ties to magic and life than we give them credit for… even bugs. It's really impressive how you gained that ability, though. Can you tell me how it affected you growing up...?" Serj turned towards Daron, and found that he was dead asleep, his head drooping forward. He chuckled, laying Daron back down comfortably on the pillow. Serj stepped off the bed, deciding to examine Daron's wound before he went to sleep. Gently lifting his shirt, he examined the gash. It seemed to have closed well, but a wound that big was prone to infection. Serj cast a spell that warded off infection and encouraged quicker healing. He was still concerned about Daron's weight, he was skinny and definitely underweight. That would have to be a concern for tomorrow, though. He slid Daron's shirt back down, silently making his way back to the couch. As he shut his eyes, he made a list of what to do when the next day came. Take a bath, get Daron some clothes, and prepare to journey off. Perhaps he'd find a new party member—his ideal party was a mage (him), a swordsman (Daron), an archer and a shield-bearer. That amount of party members would work to avoid suspicion when traveling together, and had the best dynamic for battle.
He drifted off to sleep, dreaming about a boy who ran around the lands, sword in hand. He had no face, but Serj knew who he was. When they walked, it was unclear if he was following Serj, or if Serj was following him.