Archive of Our Own

Cale sighs, shoving the brigade report that'd been copied for him to verify on the bedstand and crumpling the newspaper. Despite his very real expectations of abandoning his trash persona, he'd appreciated the lack of scrutiny it brought him. Now, he'll have all sorts of attention on him, not to mention his family's fretting. 

He hasn't even touched the letter from his father yet, somehow afraid of what well-wishes it might contain. The doctors that have been coming in and out to pester him, murmuring to each other about internal damage and strain and all sorts of medical jargon Cale doesn't care for are all funded by the imperial state as a thanks for his 'self-sacrificial protection of the innocent', according to the crown prince's fancy letter. Cale doesn't want to imagine what sort of routine care he'll be forced into once he's under Henituse jurisdiction.

Speak of the devil and he shall appear, or however the saying goes. As if summoned by Cale's passing thought of him, a knock taps at Cale's door. When he says 'come in', expecting one of his usual guilty-faced guests, he is met with the face of the Crown Prince. 

Ah, how unfortunate. Exactly the person Cale had put so much effort into avoiding at that godforsaken ball, approaching him now when he's all but confined to the bed. 

He'd get up and jump for the window, not confident but hopeful that Raon would catch him, but Hans seems to have a sixth sense for when Cale tries to leave his sickbed and Cale thinks it'd be unseemly to be scolded by his own servant in front of the Crown Prince. 

...Would it be interpreted as offensive if Cale doesn't stand to greet the Crown Prince? Now that he's being acclaimed a hero and treated to amenities and care by the royal family, it could impact his family poorly if he continues his, er, typical conduct. Fuck, this is just another reason being a lout is easier! 

"Your highness," Cale settles for, trying to shift up with a wince. His innards feel ground to dust. What the hell happened to him? None of his visitors have explained properly yet. 

"Please," the prince says, a hand raised. "Don't strain yourself just to greet me. This humble prince cannot possibly ask the hero of the Plaza incident to damage himself for something so petty." 

'Humble prince', right. Cale wants to bang his head against a wall to ensure he falls into another coma. 

"I apologize for my extended absence. The crown has been doing its very best, aided by your attendants, to track down the perpetrator of this incident while you recover." Hopefully, that's code for PR. Cale is certain, from Captain's continued mumblings and the debrief they'd had while Cale was knocked out, that the mage—Redika, was his name—won't be hunted so easily. 

Something about Death's advice, Captain had said. Cale decided not to prod further into that. 

He hums belatedly, in some attempt at pretending to entertain the prince's conversation. "I'm grateful you decided to grace this humble one with your shining presence despite the current urgency," he glitters back. Surely the prince must be aware how annoying his glib tongue is? "Just your occupance of this room is bringing to me enough elation that I feel my recovery speeding along." 

If the subtle tick in his jaw is any indication, he's being made aware as Cale speaks. "Well, I do hope your convalescence is rapid, but your gratitude is unnecessary. This is the least I can do. In fact, I've come to inform you that the crown would be honored to offer you a reward for your incomparable bravery and heroism in this terrible event." He cuts to the point quickly, no doubt certain that Cale will drag on the pleasantries annoyingly long if he's given the space to.

Cale is almost honored the infamous glib tongue is so afraid of his humble nonsense. He feigns surprise at the offer. "A reward from the crown itself? I'm honored. What might that reward be, for a humble citizen as myself?" 

A knock on the door interrupts whatever answer he might have been about to give. Cale, mentally applauding whoever might be on the other side for another annoyance to the inconvenience standing in front of him, welcomes the guest in. Choi Han pushes through the door, only sparing the prince a brief surprised glance before ducking into a shallow bow to Cale. "Cale-nim," he greets. "Am I interrupting?" 

The prince grits his teeth in a smile. "Not at all," he answers for Cale. "In fact, I should extend my thanks towards you as well, Choi Han. Your hinderance of the perpetrator has provided us invaluable help in tracking him down."

Choi Han, somehow still naive despite his past, glitters at the praise. His naturally neutral face opens a little with pride. "Uh, thank you." 

"Your highness," Cale tacks on with a meaningful glance towards Choi Han. That brat is starting to grow on him—has really no one taught him the proper etiquette of interacting with royalty? The poor boy's going to get his head chopped at this rate. 

Choi Han coughs and echoes the title hurriedly. The prince smiles obligingly, politely pretending to have missed the whole exchange. "As I was saying," he continues, turning his attention back to Cale (ugh). "Your reward from the crown is anything you choose." 

"You shouldn't offer 'anything'," Choi Han interrupts suddenly, glancing to Cale as if for approval. "Humans are like fae. They'll take advantage." 

Oh no, that's kind of adorable. Choi Han is echoing Cale's advice from the night they met, trying to impress him while helping the Crown Prince. Ah, if only Cale was oblivious to Choi Han's true viciousness. He's sort of charming otherwise. He smiles at Choi Han proudly despite himself. "Yes, that's good to keep in mind, but I'm sure our esteemed Crown Prince is well aware of that fact. In fact, one of his grandeur is difficult to take advantage of, for the simple fact that the perpetrator would simply feel too guilty in the face of such a benevolent smile."

Choi Han nods, head ducking to hide to hide his little grin and pride-flushed cheeks. He really is innocent like a child. 

The prince simply smiles harder, beaming as though intending to blind Cale with his grin. "I'm flattered, young master, truly. Do you have anything in mind, or shall I return to you later? It is no trouble regardless your answer." 

Cale truly is intending to take advantage of such an open-ended offer, but he should probably consult Captain before asking for something that might end up useless in the future. Ah, what a pain. If he weren't so concerned about the future, he'd probably just ask for some good wine and call it a day. Not that he'd enjoy it, particularly, but at least it'd have a purpose in recovering his trash facade. 

"For such a grand offer, you must take pity and offer me time to consider," Cale returns with a smile, a little disappointed that the prince's perfect facade doesn't twitch again. "But, before you depart, this humble soul requests a simple answer, if your highness is so willing." 

Cale is perfectly aware that this provides the Crown Prince an opportunity to deem his question a wish and offer him no other reward, but they are both perfectly aware that Choi Han, standing here as witness, would interpret it as usury by the prince and soil his reputation.

How convenient that Cale's companion had decided to interrupt them. 

"Of course. It is the least I could offer." Cale is eager now more than ever to figure out what it is that'll make that perfect facade crack with irritation. Could he manage it by himself? Maybe he could enlist Choi Han's help. 

"I'm curious about Taylor Stan. Could you indulge a noble left out of the loop and give me his highness's opinion?" 

The prince's smile turns tight and his eyes narrow for the briefest moment. Cale almost giggles aloud. Jackpot. 

"The young master is clever and competent. I see a bright future ahead of him."

Cale smiles, indulgent and self-satisfied. "I'm sure you do. Well, that's all I was wondering. Thank you for your time, shining sun of our blessed kingdom." The prince excuses himself in what Cale would dare to call a hurry. It makes him almost ecstatic with glee to watch that proud and deceptive figure scramble away. Does this make him some sort of sadist?

"Cale-nim," Choi Han says when the prince leaves, stepping forward to the center of Cale's view. "I've come to request leave." 

Right. Choi Han is actually contracted to him, not just following him around for fun. With the way he behaves, obeying so doggedly, it's easy for Cale to forget. Technically, it's a contract he could break at any point with little consequence, Cale wouldn't dare to attempt retribution, but Choi Han likely hasn't even considered the thought. His grandmother is well taken care of, after all, and apparently in better health than ever. She sends letters to Choi Han frequently, from what Cale has overheard.

"What for?" he asks. After losing Ron for an entire year, you'll have to excuse his hesitance to cut loose another powerhouse when he himself is so weak. 

You could fix that, you realize. It's your own fault you remain like this. 

Hush. 

Choi Han shuffles awkwardly, glancing around the room. "I... you remember Rosalyn, who you sent me to find?" Cale hums. After meeting the vibrant woman himself, he's sure she'd be hard to forget. "She had violent pursuers in the past whom she wishes to subdue. She's asked for mine and Lock's help." 

Ah. The assassins Captain had been worried about. Cale was sure they wouldn't get to Rosalyn regardless of whether Choi Han showed up or not, but it makes sense that Rosalyn wants to settle the score once and for all. Still, he worries about sending Choi Han away in those conditions. "Are you sure Lock is, well, stable enough to...?" 

His entire village had been massacred, as Captain reported. Apparently, Lock became feverish while Choi Han and Rosalyn were taking him away from the village, and then lost his mind completely and attacked them both. Captain says that that was a beast tribe-typical berserk transformation, although wasn't able to explain why it took so long for Lock to regain his senses. Apparently, the 'Berserk Mode' is supposed to be a tool for beastmen to access the abilities of their basest instincts while retaining human-like sensibilities. 

Lock did, of course, regain his mind before passing out, but Choi Han and Rosalyn had both been injured in the process of trying to subdue him without hurting him. 

What a mess.

"He is," Choi Han asserts, eyes flinty and almost defensive. 

Cale backs down immediately, not wanting to poke the bear. "Alright. Return once you're done."

Choi Han's posture relaxes, surprise overtaking his expression. "Uh-? You... you're sure? That's it?" Cale raises a brow. "I mean, you don't... have anything else to ask, Cale-nim? I know Ron recently took leave, so I understand if..." 

Cale holds up a hand, and Choi Han obliging trails off. "It's fine. Take leave. I hope Miss Rosalyn and Lock are willing to return with you when you come back. Try to make your way quickly, and don't think about me while you're gone. Just travel safely." 

"...Yes. Yes sir," Choi Han agrees, ducking into another bow and excusing himself, still looking half-surprised. Cale has to wonder why.

He sighs, relenting to the thing that's been tugging at the back of his mind for quite a while now—the thing that's not Captain, that is. The letter from his father finds its way into his hands. 

Cale closes the letter with a shaky sigh. It'd been wrinkled, slightly, in the first two panels around the mentions of Jour. The crinkles had been round, in that distinct way that dried teardrops warp quality paper. 

Despite himself, Cale feels gross. He feels disgusting, like some kind of bug leeching out of the good will of his family. Worrying Lily and no doubt Violan, scared for her real son in the same house as an injured drunkard. 

That thought sticks with him long after he writes a short, perfunctory letter in response assuring Father that Basen is in good health, Cale is well on his way to recovery, and no one has spoken ill of him. His thrashed guts churn further as he writes a postscript to Lily that this only means more time to practice her flower crowns, and tells her that he's delayed himself intentionally to give more time to find her the perfect swordmaster. 

It's perhaps because of this sick feeling that washes over him like the continuous lap of waves that, when Amiru visits him, he agrees without hesitation to her invitation to recover in the Ubarr territory, clutching that tear-stained letter in both his hands like a man holding his arrest warrant. 

In no time at all, Basen is set to be sent back to the Henituse territory with a decent chunk of servants in tow, and Cale is busied making arrangement in join with the Ubarr to travel to the rocky land by the seas. 

It's said that salty air is good for the sick. 

Toonka has faced hurricanes. Blizzards. Tsunamis. 

Any natural disaster you could think of, Toonka has found himself in the midst of it. 

Any, except perhaps these whirlpools. 

Being stranded in the rocky cliffsides across the water from Whipper wasn't ideal, and Toonka hates masquerading as a weak person called Bob, but he can at the least be grateful for the opportunity to weather this new, interesting storm. The woman who found him is too busy to hover, instead fretting over some red-haired weakling she brought to the cliffsides for 'recovery'. 

If it was Toonka in her place, he probably would've tossed the redhead off the edge. One less problem for him to worry about. 

He only reaffirms this sentiment to himself when the redhead, supported by crutches, approaches him. It's only because Toonka's ship isn't ready to be set off yet that Toonka doesn't fling the weakling to the ground. "The whirlpools will disappear soon," he tells Toonka instead of the boring greetings Toonka has gotten used to. 

That gives him pause. "What?" 

"The whirlpools. You want to face them, don't you? They'll disappear, so there's no point." 

Despite himself, this draws a boisterous laugh. "I wouldn't have guessed! Could it be that you want to face the whirlpools, too?!" What a delightful idea; this frail weakling going against the forces of nature! Toonka is intrigued. "You're fascinating! Tell me your name!" 

The redhead fixes him with a dry look Toonka doesn't care to observe deeply. "Well... Bob, as we've met before, I'll skip the formalities. I'm Cale." 

Right, right, that green-headed lady had introduced them before she went off worrying about Cale. Something about how she was sorry to leave him alone after being shipwrecked, but Cale was in dire condition, yada yada... Toonka hadn't really cared to listen. He was just glad she was finally giving him some room to breathe. 

Or, more accurately, some room to jump into the whirlpool. 

Though, really, something more entertaining might have just wandered into his hands. "Well, Cale, I'm always excited to help a brother grow stronger. Say, why don't you show me what you mean by the whirlpools disappearing, and if they really do, I'll fight you!" 

"Shouldn't it be the opposite?" 

"Why would it be?" Toonka asks, confused. "If we can't fight the whirlpool to get stronger, you can fight me!" 

Cale makes a strange face and seems to sag slightly atop the crutches, but his spirit is in the right place when he says, "Of course, I should've assumed," so Toonka doesn't call him out for it. 

"Meet me tonight by the cliffside! We will travel out to the whirlpool together!" Toonka invites, extending a gracious hand. He wouldn't usually associate with such a weak-looking person, but this weakling has interested him greatly, and Toonka isn't in the business of preventing people from becoming strong. If this weakling is looking to increase his strength, who is Toonka to refuse him? He'll even allow him the first fight with the whirlpool!

Cale takes his hand in a white-knuckled grip Toonka appreciates, although it is pretty pathetic. "Your ship is still wrecked." 

"We will use yours!" 

Toonka must imagine the way Cale's eye ticks. "Of course." 

That crazy bastard...

"It's more likely that you're the crazy bastard," Cale snaps at the grumbling Captain. "What the hell were you thinking, having me approach him?! Of course it ended like this! Now I'm supposed to, what, pray the whirlpools magically vanish again?!" 

Obviously not, Captain complains, acting like Cale is the annoying one. Just bring Raon.

Cale chokes. "I'm not relying on a child—do you even have a clue what kind of misconceptions that kind of crazy bastard would generate because of that?!" 

Captain sighs. Cale wishes he was corporeal so he could smack that awful apparition. Okay, fine. Bring bombs. 

"Bombs!" Cale echoes, half-hysterical. "Ah, yes, let me bring bombs into the whirlpool! That will surely help ensure my survival! Are you an idiot?!"

Shut up and let me finish, brat! Captain hisses. Cale begrudgingly halts his complaining. These are obviously not a natural phenomenon. My current theory is that it's someone working with the White Star. The mermaids have been causing trouble by this point, so it wouldn't be a surprise if they managed to set up some sort of base they're using the whirlpools to cover up. 

"Ah," Cale concedes. "Maybe you're not completely insane. I'm supposed to kill these alleged mermaid spies with these bombs, hence destroying the source of the whirlpools?"

Exactly! And, if I'm remembering correctly, news of the Whale Tribe prince's disappearance broke right around the aftermath of the Plaza Terror incident. Hopefully, you can learn something from the traces of the base about where he is.

"That'd leave the Whales indebted to me," Cale remarks, "which is helpful because the mermaids, their natural enemy, are allied with the White Star." He sighs, accepting his defeat this once. (As typical, he'll deny with his whole weak heart.) "Alright, fine. This still doesn't answer how the hell I'm supposed to get out to this whirlpool to begin with." 

A rowboat. Captain's solution, which Toonka seems to heartily agree with, is a rowboat. "I'll have to save my strength for the whirlpool," Cale tells 'Bob' shamelessly, half-expecting to be tossed off the boat, "so I'll be relying on you to paddle us there.

Toonka laughs, empty-headed as he seems to constantly be, and accepts it as a challenge. They row to the largest whirlpool in an honestly frightening amount of time, and Cale stands on shaky feet with his storage bag filled to the brim with mana bombs clutched tightly in hand. How the hell is he supposed to do this—?

"Ah, are you waiting for a lift? I should have assumed you couldn't jump, my weak brother! No worries, I'll set you loose in no—"

Before even finishing his own sentence, Toonka launches Cale screaming into the air. Right above the whirlpool. "Are you fucking kidding me?!" he shrieks, finding himself falling to his doom for the second time in about two weeks. How ridiculous could his life possibly get? He was taking it so easy, enjoying his existence as a lout. If only that damned voice of the Captain hadn't popped into his head...

"Please work, please work, please work," Cale murmurs to the gods he hatefully is beginning to believe in as he dumps his bag of bombs into the swirling water mid-descent. Blessedly, they explode, a huge rumble making the seas quake and sending water shooting up at Cale. The pressure is immense enough to keep him from splattering on the water's surface and breaking all his bones, in fact sending him higher for the briefest of moments, but Cale realizes that as soon as the water calms he'll be back to reaching his untimely death. 

He's not exactly counting on Toonka to save him. 

Hey. Use your power. 

Glutton?

Huh? Use my power, brat! 

Glutton snickers in the back of Cale's mind, active for the first time since Cale had last stepped away from her tree. Don't be like that. Cale, this is my dear little thief. Use her power. 

"I don't know if you noticed, but I'm not exploded yet!" Cale yells at nothing. "I don't have another power!" 

Just use it! the thief urges again, and Cale doesn't even fucking know what power she claims to have—

The wind. Call on the wind, and it'll hold you. Trust in me.

And then he's flying. 

Huh.

Cale is suspended in the air, not dead, not exploded, and somehow carrying three Ancient Powers. 

Congratulations. Now find the mermaid base, Captain orders, completely unsympathetic. 

Are you fucking serious?! Cale mentally screams back, not keen on allowing the occupant of the boat he's floating back down to hear him talking to himself. I'm going to explode. Explode! And I don't even know when! The way Glutton said it sounded like it would happen right away! I'm going to explode!

Toonka shoots Cale a crazed grin, eyes wide almost to the point of mania. "You defeated it! I was wrong about you, who I thought was a weakling! Tell me how you destroyed all the whirlpools, so nature will learn to bow to me as well!" 

Cale glares unabashedly, too worried for his own life to consider offending Toonka. Or, more accurately, he's too worried about the Ancient Power ending his life to worry about Toonka ending his life. 

Fuck. What kind of ridiculous situations is this asshole Captain getting him into? Acquiring one Ancient Power only partially intentionally is fine; he completed the challenge on purpose in the end, even though it started on accident because he needed somewhere to feed the bodies. Acquiring a third Ancient Power, whose location he hadn't even fucking known, completely accidentally?!

This can't be real. It can't be. Maybe Cale should revisit his theory of pain-induced delirium?

Stop spiraling and find the mermaid base.

Asshole. 

"I... need to take care of something. Thanks for accompanying me here," Cale murmurs to Toonka, making to climb out of the boat. It rocks as the massive man clambers up after him. 

"Hold on now, I still need to fight you!" he declares, grin bloodthirsty when Cale turns back around to face it. 

Cale kind of wishes he could call on that favor the Crown Prince owes him right now, just to get himself out of this situation. "...That wasn't the deal. I fought the whirlpool."

"Don't act weak!" Toonka declares, starting to look upset. Cale really thinks he has enough life-threatening factors going on right now. "I want to fight you, since you destroyed my chance to face the whirlpools!" 

Fuck, okay. Uhhh. 

Make him a new whirlpool! Thief suggests. If that's his issue, there's an easy enough fix. Come on, this Captain guy is getting worried.

I'm not worried, Captain protests weakly.

Cale rolls his eyes, experimentally flicking a hand out. Obediently, the waves reform into a deadly-looking whirlpool. Maybe Cale will get lucky and it'll keep Toonka from continuing to be his problem. "Just... go play in the whirlpool, then," he offers, gesturing towards it as though it had always been there. "Don't worry about waiting up for me." He hadn't imagined Toonka would, already hooting joyfully and jumping into the whirlpool, but he's hoping to fly himself back to the mainland before anyone notices he's missing. Hans will tear him a new one, and if Father finds out he'll order Cale's return to the county immediately...

Cale sighs for the hundredth time this evening, experimentally lifting himself on the winds. "Alright. This... if you weren't gonna explode me in an indeterminate amount of time, this would be pretty cool."

Apparently choosing to ignore the rest of Cale's sentence, Thief glows proudly in the back of his head. As he leaves the area the whirlpool previously occupied, he can feel her and Glutton's presences fading again to the back of his mind. It's kind of a shame. She seemed better company than her companion.

Cale tries not to think about how his mother's apparition has yet to say a word.

The nearest potential hideout Cale can easily investigate is a cave. Creepy and definitely suspicious. "I feel like an idiot in a horror novel about to get murdered brutally," he murmurs, more for his own sake than commentary to entertain Captain.

You won't, Captain comforts, and the words are uncharacteristically assuring. If anything happens, I'll take over. I haven't forgotten how to fight.

Cale cracks a smile. "Old man. You know my body's not cut out for anything you're used to." He huffs. "I guess that means I really will have to—"

"Please help me-!" 

The man is blue-haired and beautiful in an objective, otherworldly way. He is also gruesomely injured and discolored purple around the areas of the wounds. 

Oh, Captain murmurs. 

Cale grimaces. This must be our whale.

Nedas is more than used to doing odd jobs for Cale. Not quite so used to being woken up at around two o'clock in the morning for them, but he won't refuse the man. So far, he seems to have genuinely benevolent intentions with all his violence, and there are few enough people like that in the world. Nedas is willing to lend a hand where he's able. 

Well, besides that, he's also contractually obligated to. 

The thing is, though, Nedas's 'odd jobs' have usually tended to err on the side of 'find this person' or 'deliver this item', sometimes even 'watch over Basen' or 'track down Choi Han for the third time today'. This awful morning, Nedas's job has been to scour one of the islands off the coast of the Ubarr cliffs for mermaid corpses. 

Also, his lord can apparently fly. He'd been warned with a face from the young master like death not to ask, so his lips stay sealed, but he has to wonder why the man didn't use such a power while apparently plummeting to his death from the belltower during the incident at the Plaza of Glory. 

Then again, if the damage that wracked him as recoil just for using the shield is any gauge, using both powers at once might've guaranteed him a speedy death. 

It's because of this assessment that Nedas works quickly, half-afraid the still-healing man will keel over from using his flight powers so much in a night. Blessedly, a rowboat waits for him when he returns to the island shore, the young master already sat inside it with what appears to be another corpse. Nedas tosses his mermaid carcass on top of the other carelessly, and almost falls flat on his face when the corpse hisses in pain and Cale winces sympathetically, pushing Nedas's mermaid corpse aside. 

"Why'd you do that?" Cale hisses, helping adjust the groaning—whale? 

Nedas can only gape blankly. "I—wh—I thought he was dead!" he hisses back when he regains at least some of his wits.

Cale huffs, letting it go with a grumble, "He will be soon if you continue like that." He flicks a hand behind him and an impossible gust of wind boosts them forward, forcing Nedas to cling to the ship's sides in a white-knuckled grip. They're back at the rocky cliffside dizzyingly quick, and Nedas is made to drag the corpse while the half-dead whale is floated along by a pale-looking Cale. 

Nedas can't help but hover nervously. If Cale collapses, the whale really will die, and Nedas doesn't exactly want that on his conscience. Almost as if summoned by his worry, Kitsi and Sejilu round the bend and come upon them. 

Kitsi just sighs. "I should've assumed he wasn't kidding."

Sejilu sends her an incredulous look as the whale is transferred to her hands. "You thought Cale Henituse was joking about sending Nedas to find a corpse to fix some half-dead whale? Maybe you really have lost it." 

"I can hear you, you know," the man in question snaps, and Sejilu's mouth clicks shut at lightning speed. He sighs, then sways. Nedas's eyes widen in panic, completely unable to help with a body's weight of his own to carry. Kitsi, blessedly, steadies the man before he can collapse again and force them all to face Deputy Butler Hans's admittedly terrifying wrath. "Just... quickly, to the villa. We don't have time to waste."

The whale doesn't seem to be dying in the next few minutes, but he's not exactly in good health. He's, at the least, still conscious. He turns to face Nedas, and Nedas tries to ignore the way his face heats up. Beast people are known to be naturally-unnaturally beautiful. The smile is just worsening that strange sparkling effect. "Thank you... for your help. I wouldn't... have..."

"Pasteon, shut up," Cale snaps, stumbling up to walk beside Sejilu and, in turn, the whale. "You're wasting energy you should be using on surviving." The whale—Pasteon?—obligingly shuts his mouth. Nedas takes the exit for what it is and hastens ahead of the group with his handy little mermaid corpse. 

Is this considered desecration of a dead body?

"Now why the hell did I need Nedas to find a whole fucking corpse?" Pasteon's mysterious savior asks the open air. There's a beat of silence where Pasteon almost thinks he expects the whale to answer, but it's quickly filled by more grumbling. 

Besides, he told Pasteon not to speak. Focus his energy on surviving. 

He wasn't wounded very long ago, but the mermaid poison is still painful. If he'd gone another day stranded in that cave, if this man hadn't stumbled upon him... Pasteon would probably be dead. 

"Wake up," the man murmurs, a hand falling onto Pasteon's shoulder. Pasteon blinks his eyes open, squinting slightly in a wince at the room's light. The early morning sun is starting to seep through the windows. Has an entire night passed already? And to think, Pasteon had been injured and hearing explosions outside just hours ago, certain that he would die. "Hm." 

Slightly trembling hands lift Pasteon by his shoulders, propping him up in a seated position against a pile of pillows. His wounds have been mostly healed by potions, but the mermaid poison continues to run through his veins. Pasteon winces. He'll probably need to request an amputation. "Drink this," the redhead instructs, passing a cup of something dark and bad-smelling to Pasteon. "Don't worry about poison. I would've just left you behind if I wanted you dead."

Pasteon hadn't even considered poison until he brought it up, but the man's words have merit. He'd be dead thrice over if the man hadn't found him and taken mercy. "Thank you," he murmurs, taking a sip. He grimaces at the taste, then downs it in one go. It's easier to not have to think about it. 

It only takes as long as Pasteon swallowing for the effects to be felt—the mermaid poison is receding. 

...What?!

He gapes down at his own skin, once tinged sickly purple and quickly reverting to its healthy original colors. "How..?" he gasps. "There's—what was that?! There's no known cure to mermaid poison." 

"Well, there's plenty where that came from," the man answers nonchalantly, glancing over his shoulder. "I just made you drink mermaid blood." 

Pasteon thinks his reaction is entirely reasonable when he shorts out like a faulty magic orb. 

Amiru wakes up to reports that the largest whirlpool, unnatural and eternal and the biggest cause of her headaches, has vanished overnight. 

She sort of wants to crawl into one of the remaining whirlpools and let herself drown. This is just too troublesome for such an early hour. 

Despite her annoyance, she's still the heir of the Ubarr territory, and this is her responsibility to resolve. With permission from the Viscountess, she'll put together an investigation team to look more closely at the whirlpools and hopefully discern the cause of its disappearance. 

With this plan in mind, she goes to visit Cale. It'd be unseemly of her to just disappear when she'd invited him to her territory to recover after the plaza incident, after all. Perhaps she should've simply sent a note, or in some other way circumvented the sequence of events that goes something dreadfully like this:

1. Amiru is welcomed into the villa Cale is staying in. 
2. She sees Cale. She greets him. 
3. Amiru notices a beautiful blue-haired man with one arm in a cast and a meek smile. Cale tells her that he was shipwrecked. A row boat, completely in tact, is the vessel he cited the man—Pasteon—was found in. 
4. Amiru, in a daze, tells Cale she'll be absent likely for the following few days to investigate the sudden disappearance of the massive whirlpool that's been limiting Ubarr trade. 
5. Cale asks to join her investigation. Amiru, now even more dazed, agrees. Pasteon asks to join as well, to assist in any way he's able to the territory so graciously housing him. 
6. Amiru wants to jump into the whirlpool more than ever.

Cale must be some sort of luck charm. Not particularly attracting good or bad luck exclusively, but luck to simple extremes. Amiru can't find any other explanation that would justify exactly why her life has been so uproarious since she invited him to recover by the seaside. 

Perhaps, if she were to convince the Crown Prince to invest in tourism, the most popular attraction would become her pulling her own hair out stressing over these fools she's taken into her care. She misses the capitol, just slightly, because at least then she had quick access to Gilbert and Eric for a calming discussion over tea. She should write to them, some time soon. 

"Young Lady Amiru," Cale calls, pulling Amiru's attention away from the carriage window she's been sighing at. "Something on your mind?" 

She no longer finds herself in shock at his lack of propriety, too used to Eric's fretting about where that 'good boy he'd known' went, and is instead surprised by how considerate he seems. She's not particularly one to buy into rumors, and has her own reservations about the words people throw around about Cale, but even her own memories of him have marked him more reserved than as to blatantly check on her.

She appreciates this change. 

Amiru turns and faces him with a smile. "I suppose I'm simply considering the proposal that fell through with the celebration at the Palace of Joy. The Crown Prince seemed entirely uninterested in investing in tourism over here."

Cale hums, his own gaze flickering towards the window. "I suppose it makes sense. What's there to see?" Ah, there's the brash young man Amiru knows.

Amiru just sighs. "We need some kind of economy here, Cale. This clearly isn't agricultural land."

"Are you concerned about Whipper Kingdom?" 

"Who isn't?" Amiru retorts. 

He snorts, an uncouth sound, clearly agreeing. He mumbles something to himself under his breath that Amiru doesn't care to pick out; she's sure she'll be better off left curious. "Take that to the Crown Prince's attention instead, then. A military base is more useful to everyone than yet another tourist economy."

It's said with such little care that Amiru has to pause. The best of it is, it really is good advice. A military base is the perfect in-between; the stimulation their viscounty requires to remain afloat economically, while remaining useful enough that it will be relevant and functional—useful enough to excite investors, given the Ubarr themselves are too financially weak to support and raise an armed force alone. 

She sighs, good mood deflating. That's her crossroads yet again, isn't it? "I suppose the crown would be more amiable to that suggestion, but the Viscountess would hardly be pleased with the thought of more royal influence in the territory." The Ubarr are politically weak enough as is. 

"I'm saying this as someone who hopes you consider him a friend," Cale says after a pause. "Talk to the Viscountess. Ask her to reach out to the Henituse for funding. I won't promise anything further than the fact that my father is always happy to speak with an old friend." He sounds reluctant the whole sentence through, as though the encouragement is being dragged out of him, but Amiru can see the good will he intends by it. It brings a smile to her face. 

"Say, don't you call Eric big brother? We've known each other about the same amount of time." Amiru won't ever admit to the delight she feels at the resignation which dawns on Cale's irritated face. "Call me big sister, little brother." 

Cale sighs, his whole body deflating with the motion. "Sure, big sister." 

Uncomfortably enough, Amiru's investigation squad makes the cave Cale had found Pasteon in their first stop. Out of the corner of his eye, Cale can just barely make out remaining bloodstains in the darkness. Yikes... those wounds would've been deadly if left alone a little longer. If the traces of fresh footprints are any indication, the mermaids weren't about to leave Pasteon there to remain a loose end, either. 

Eugh. 

War is so messy. 

As if to spite him, a currently larger mess makes itself known: a massive wave comes splashing into the cave, drenching Cale and his other land-bound companions completely. Pasteon, fortunate enough to not be forced to live solely among them inferior two-legged people, immediately jumps into the water as an unusually small humpback whale and worsens the problem. 

Cale gets a round of gravel to go with the water this time, he assumes as a treat for his troubles. 

Delightful.

A much larger humpback whale emerges from the wave, looking quite honestly furious. Oh dear. The bellow it lets out is loud enough to send Cale stumbling back, Amiru and the rest of their rather small investigation party not far behind. 

Amiru splutters, hands trembling even as she tries to support Cale, whose crutches (that he unfortunately needs again after that stupid stunt he pulled last night) were knocked aside. "What—where did Pasteon—?"

"Witira! Sister!" Pasteon's familiar voice cries, popping from the water as he reemerges on shore in his human form. "Please calm down! Don't kill anyone! Young master Cale saved me!" 

This is kind of pitiful, Cale thinks as he watches Witira immediately transform into a human and fret over Pasteon. And then he pretends he hadn't thought it at all, because he's found himself in Pasteon's position an embarrassing number of times in recent months. Instead, he crouches to the ground, pretending to investigate the leftover footprints. "It seems like someone was here, recently," he remarks to Amiru, pretending to be oblivious to her disbelieving gape. "Perhaps they interfered with the whirlpool."

She seems to give in to his willful ignorance of the whale siblings easily enough, sighing and dragging his ruined crutches over with a wince. "I'll... see that new crutches are provided, little brother," she says with another sigh, grimacing at the poor condition of the drenched wood. "I don't see how a person could destroy such a whirlpool, however. It's already been determined that it isn't a mage's doing." 

Cale would've responded with some reasonable excuse, something like 'Oh, perhaps it was a natural phenomenon with a grounded root that was dislodged by a swimmer', and that would be case closed and Amiru could leave it up to the geologists to make up some kind of underwater-volcano-meets-rock-creates-pressure-equals-whirlpool theory and then accept that their biggest trade hindrance is gone. 

Instead, 'Bob' comes bursting into the cave, flinging himself at Witira with a cry of 'fight me!' and almost killing the entire inspection group in the process. 

Cale just barely flings up the Indestructible Shield in time, not having nearly enough warning to push the others to the ground, and he winces as the impact of Toonka bouncing off the shield rattles his bones. Gods, that hurts. Is it supposed to hurt so badly? Cale thought this shield's purpose was to protect him from pain!

He drops the shield as soon as he's able, wincing and curling in on himself. Or maybe this is a side effect of having too many Ancient Powers. He can't believe that that's a problem he has now, but it'd make sense if every use of a power is made more strenuous when they're all fighting for room on his plate. 

Someone rushes to Cale's side as he lurches with a heavy cough, but no blood has come up yet, so he counts his blessings even as his chest aches like his ribs have been shattered. Just breathing is painful enough that Cale spends the entire conflict between Toonka and the whales trying not to pass out instead of paying attention. From what he can tell, Amiru has cleared everyone well away from the area, and is now just waiting on Cale to be able to move. 

"Just, haa, go," he wheezes, trying to wave a hand but giving up the motion when his arm seizes with a cramp. "'ll be fine." And he will be fine. He's got Kitsi with him. Even if he doesn't trust her as far as he can throw her (or... something farther than that, because he doesn't think he could throw Kitsi at all) to beat Toonka in a fight, he's assuredly confident in her ability to take him and, ignoring his pain, run fast and far should the need arise. 

If what Captain says about the whales' strength—greater than Choi Han's, allegedly—is true, Cale's not really worried about Toonka getting to him anyway. Pasteon feels indebted and Witira is doting; Cale likely won't die today. Kitsi, though...

Ah, he's joking. Mostly. 

And, sure enough, when Cale stops feeling like he's actively exploding, he makes sense of his blurry surroundings to see zero Toonkas, zero civilians, and two Whales. 

Perfect! And Cale is still alive!

"Cale Henituse," Witira greets, kneeling down in front of him. Cale is still curled into a ball, the position he'd assumed to try and stave off the pain, which is kind of humiliating in front of this person who exudes such a noble aura. "I am Witira, Pasteon's sister and the successor to the King of the Whale Tribe. I extend to you my deepest gratitude for rescuing my dear brother." 

Right. Cale had forgotten, in the midst of all this, that Pasteon is a prince. 

At some point in the midst of swindling the whale tribe into helping him whenever he needs, Casul's master has agreed to bring the prince and princess of the tribe to the Forest of Darkness. Not exactly Casul's ideal vacation to get out of a contract like that, but whatever. It's honestly no longer his business, as he, Shiveh, and Sejilu have been separated from the rest of the group and are being sent to check on Choi Han in Breck and make sure he knows to return to the Henituse County ASAP. 

Casul's not really incredibly eager to get in that terrifying person's way in the middle of his quest to aid another terrifying person with revenge against assassins, but he's terrified enough of Cale Henituse to prefer Choi Han's wrath. 

Maybe that's foolish of him. Kitsi would probably say so. Casul doesn't really care enough about her opinion to change his ways, though. She's one of his closest friends and a complete hypocrite—if she had been sent on this mission (if she had any fear in her heart, really) she'd keep every peep of complaint to herself until she was long out of their master's earshot. 

"Say, Sejilu," he hums, just trying to make conversation to distract himself from the uncomfortable sensation of being on horseback. "Will you ever tell us what Young Master said to you that one time?" 

Like a magic switch, the mood of their traveling party plummets as Sejilu snaps her mouth shut, eyes widening and glancing around like the boogeyman is going to pop out of the bushes hunting for her. "I told you I wouldn't," she hisses, fury clear in her voice. "And I goddamn mean that. He'll find out, I fuckin' know it."

"Sejilu," Shiveh warns, trotting closer to put a hand on her sister's shoulder. "Cool it. He won't hurt us. It's in the contract." 

Sejilu swallows hard, looking sharply away from Casul with a scowl. With her attention diverted, Shiveh glares openly at Casul. "Er, sorry," he apologizes, cowed. "I kind of figured you wouldn't think much of it since it's been so long." He laughs half-heartedly. "Gosh, we've been working for the young master for a whole year now, haven't we?"

Content with the change of topic, Shiveh's glare lightens. "It's not bad. I'd rather be here than back in the slums. It's kind of nice. Bein' able to travel like this." 

Casul laughs again, a little more heartily this time. "There was a time I thought I'd die without ever seeing the outside of the county. Now here we are, on horseback traveling to a whole 'nother kingdom! Ain't it grand?" 

Sejilu snorts, too. "Your country bumpkin's comin' out," she teases, kicking up next to him to shove him by the shoulder. 

"Acting like you aren't worse off," Casul shoots back with a grin. 

The admittedly long trip continues like that, friendly jibes traded on horseback and childhood stories traded under the cover of a starry night sky when they stop to set up camp. At one point, Casul starts to wonder if they've gotten lost—surely it shouldn't take this long, right? They've been traveling for half of eternity!

"It takes a week to get just from main Henituse to Harris Village," Shiveh scolds him when he complains the thought aloud. "'Course traveling to a whole different kingdom is taking us ages!" 

Sejilu sighs, too, for once taking sides. "It'd sure be convenient if one of us was some kinda mage. Wouldn't it be nice to be able to snap your fingers and be anywhere you want?" 

"I don't think that's exactly how it works," Casul murmurs, but he takes his corrections and quiets himself when Sejilu turns a nasty old scowl on him. Not in the mood, got it! Don't need to tell him twice. "Say, what do ya think Nedas and Kitsi are doing? I hope they're not too bored left all on their own." 

Shiveh scoffs. "Probably suckin' face where the young master can't see 'em." 

Matching splutters meet her, Sejilu and Casul exchanging disbelieving glances. "Sorry, what?" Sejilu asks. "When did this become a thing?! Why didn't you tell us!?" 

Shiveh scowls, glaring at the grass ahead of them and leaning on her mare's neck, arms hanging as she sets her loose to trot along forward. "Cause 's none of your business. They're a thing. They get a bunch of alone time from us three, doin' who-knows-what in their free time. Hooray."

"Oh, I know that tone," Sejilu teases, voice wicked. "You're jealous! But of who, is the question? The three of you spend heaps of time together, I guess, but I dunno if I could see you with Nedas over Kitsi. Who in their right mind would pick Nedas over Kitsi?" 

"Hey, hey, Nedas isn't bad-looking!" Casul defends, a little offended on his friend's behalf. "C'mon, just 'cause he's average doesn't mean it's impossible. I mean, clearly Kitsi thought so." Shiveh sulks harder on her horse, and Casul winces. "Er, sorry, Shiveh. I'm sure you would be great with, uh..." 

Seriously, which is she into? Casul kind of hadn't realized Shiveh was capable of romantic attraction. She's so serious all the time. "It's both of 'em!" she bursts out suddenly, jerking slightly in her saddle as her horse startles. She takes a second to soothe the horse, ignoring both of their jaw-dropped gazes. And then she sighs, pre-empting the barrage of questions they have yet to put to words. "Yes, they know. Yes, the three of us are a thing. I'm not telling you how long it's been. I'm not telling you how it works but yes, we've fucked." 

"I didn't need to know that!" Sejilu shrieks, cutting her sister off. 

Shiveh shrugs. "But Casul wanted to know."

Casul's face burns guiltily. He was curious. "Listen..." he defends, hands up placatingly when Sejilu turns to him with murder in her eyes. 

Appearing as though heavens-sent, a flash of red light spawns three figures in the distance, distracting Sejilu from throttling Casul (wrongly!!!). From where their trio is, the new arrivals look like a mixing blob of red, silver, and black. 

"Huh," Shiveh murmurs. "Speak of a mage and one shall appear." 

"I don't think—"

"Casul."

"Yes, sorry." 

Cale is trying to ignore the voice in his head. 

See, this would be normal, because Cale has a lot of voices in his head. Perhaps that should be grounds for him to visit a mind doctor, but he promises that his version of voices-in-his-head is just normal apparitions, not psychosis. 

But anyway, this voice that is currently being ignored is not normal because it does not sound like any of the three (THREE!!!) Ancient Powers already in Cale's possession or the past-future apparition taking up space in his head. 

Why would you come to me when Raon's power was what destroyed the lake?!

Maybe Captain was right. Touching suspicious things, interacting with suspicious magics—no, actually! Interacting with anything at all seems to be Cale's predetermined doom, so he'll simply have to take his family into hiding and live life protecting them as a hermit, ensuring no one approaches. Maybe they'll live on a nice farm, and Cale will practice the sword arts with Lily even though they'll never need to use it, and he can sit around during the winter and make flower crowns with a sturdy sort of flower he has yet to acquire. 

Cale moves away from the whales Raon is excitedly re-introducing himself to—illusion of a human mage cast for any not in on the secret who might look over, clever boy—, accepting his lauds, and leans his head against a tree trunk. Against his own will, a few tears slip past his eyes. He can't feel a distinct new strain, but he's sure it'll have its effects as soon as he activates an Ancient Power. If he even survives long enough for the need to arise again, will he have to deal with the crippling pain and damage threefold? 

Cale is going to die. It'd been easier to ignore in the Ubarr territory, high off the elation of barely escaping death, but it's sinking in properly now with yet another lock added to weigh down his death timer. Is he going to be able to tell when it's about to happen? Is he going to have enough time to see his family? Tell them he loves them, he's sorry, warn them of the future they'll need to protect themselves from alone?

He'd been content to drink his life away what could barely be called a year ago. He was purposeless, then, except for in clearing the heir's seat for Basen. Now that he has a reason to stay alive, a purpose in his continued waste of oxygen, his body is failing him?!

More tears jerk out of him, and Cale clasps both hands over his mouth to cover the sound of his hitching breaths. 

I don't wanna die. 

"Cale-nim!" a familiar voice calls, and Cale curses the fact that Choi Han's timing still hasn't improved—in fact, it might have even become more horrible in his absence. At the very least, he has both Rosalyn and Lock by his side and Cale's three attendants in toe when Cale scrubs his eyes clean and turns around to face him. 

"Choi Han," he greets, forcing his face into a mild smile. "You're back. I trust you all traveled safely?" 

"Of course!" Lock replies, already looking brighter than he had when Cale had last seen him. Choi Han and Rosalyn are clearly good for the grieving boy to be around. It's an odd turnaround for a murder vacation, but Cale's not really in a position to be picky. A happy kid is a happy kid. "See, it was—"

"Cale-nim?" Choi Han cuts his companion off, squinting a little harder at Cale's face. Fuck, his eyes must still be red. That, or there's something left on his face from the violent scrubbing. "Are you... alright?" 

The clueless way he asks, as though he actually cares, is enough to tie a rotten knot around Cale's heart and lungs, and suddenly it's hard to breathe while looking into Choi Han's earnest eyes. It's hard to lie. When was the last time someone asked him that, actually caring about the answer? It's a stupid, sentimental thought to have. Cliche, for someone like Cale who manufactured his loneliness for himself. And still, it stings to think about. 

Cale does what he's best at and shuts the thought down entirely, glancing away. His gaze lands down, on the dead grass beneath his feet, then jumps up to the group behind Choi Han. It'd be out of character for him to stare at his own feet. "I'm fine, Choi Han. I'm glad you've come back in good health. Tell me about your trip later." 

He considers that suitable welcome and his boots crunch over to the larger group, calling for Raon who attentively lands on Cale's shoulder. "It's probably about time we get going. I don't think anyone's eager to spend the night." 

Hans looks around, anxiety clear in the lines of his face despite Captain's cackle that Hans could beat half the monsters in this forest bloody. "Right, right, let's get going." Part of Cale wonders if Hans makes himself look so ridiculous on purpose, so Cale doesn't feel bad for his fright. 

He sighs and hopes that's not true. 

Pasteon tries to make conversation on the way back to Harris Village, where they actually will be spending the night, but Cale is too exhausted to pick a mask to wear, much less follow through with it. In the absence of one of his personas, he's not sure how to behave at all. Most of the conversations fall flat and die, always by his own lackluster responses. 

When Pasteon finally directs his whole attention to his sister, Cale spends the rest of the trip with his eyes glued to the trees, wondering. Will Harris Village take him, too? If he got in a carriage accident on the way home, well, that'd just be ironic luck. 

Choi Han is leading Cale's horse by the reins, their guide for getting out of the Forest despite just arriving (and Cale tries not to think about that, either, about the years Choi Han must've spent cold, alone, afraid), and Cale feels confident enough in Choi Han's princess-like affinity for animals that he lets himself droop onto Pisca's neck. She's a sturdy girl, well used to her lazy master laying across her like this. She doesn't flinch or falter, and Cale slowly relaxes into the warmth of her well-groomed mane. 

At some point, though he couldn't say when, he falls asleep. 

Something is wrong with Cale. 

Choi Han feels bad putting it so bluntly, but it's true, and he's worried. Pasteon, the whale(??) Choi Han just met that Cale apparently rescued while Choi Han was gone, pointed it out as well. Cale seemed absent-minded, distracted. He wasn't engaging and all their conversations died. He seemed... blank? 

And then, while Choi Han was guiding Pisca, Cale had laid down on her neck. Choi Han had thought he was just uncomfortable in the saddle, but then Cale started to tilt, completely passed out, and Choi Han had to join him atop the horse to make sure he didn't fall straight off. 

All of this is even not to mention that, when Cale had turned to greet Choi Han, not only had he been completely dead-voiced in a way Choi Han doesn't remember ever hearing from him, but his eyes and face had been flushed red with freshly-scrubbed tears. He was separated from the group, hunched against a tree... crying?

Again, guilt passes over Choi Han for his assumptions, but they're only born out of worry. He's glad they're heading back to Harris Village. Grandma wrote recently, telling him she's in good health, and he's excited to see her again. He owes everyone in Harris a lot. That aside, he's also hoping they can help him figure out out to approach Cale about this, if not figure out the issue altogether. Choi Han's not... good with people, after that long-seemingly-endless time isolated in the Forest of Darkness. 

These people are good with him, though. He almost forgets his worries about Cale when, after dropping his sleeping young master off in a guest bed the villagers prepared in advance, he's pulled from person to person and welcomed home, questioned about where he's been, what he's done, if the rumors about him helping the hero of the Plaza Terror Incident are true, if he's really befriended a princess. 

The children are, of course, especially excited to hear from him. Choi Han can't help but be reminded of Korea, of the baby cousins he'd occasionally be made responsible for, and of course indulges them. Rosalyn joins them, and then Lock, too, who seems to get a grieving kind of happiness from interacting with happy kids. It dampens Choi Han's mood to remember everything Lock lost by the time Choi Han and Rosalyn stumbled upon him, and it's ultimately that which reminds him to check in on Cale. 

He ruffles Lock's hair as he leaves, asking him and Rosalyn to promise to tell the kids everything Choi Han left out, and the two are too entranced by the adorable kids to question him twice. 

He huffs, making his way to the cabin Cale's party is staying in. He'll probably room with Grandma, like he used to, if Cale doesn't mind. He should probably open their conversation with that request, right? Grandma had advised to 'ease into it'. 

East topics first. 

Choi Han huffs, steadying himself, then knocks on the door. "Cale-nim?" 

The door swings open startlingly quick, like someone had been waiting to answer. Which might be the case, since Kitsi is the one who stares him down from behind it. "...He's not taking visitors right now," she murmurs, and Choi Han feels like he notices her softening her tone a little as she observes his face. She's probably worried, too. "Sorry, Choi Han." 

"Should I come back later?" he asks, hesitant. 

Kitsi glances behind her. A faint shuffling sound slips past her, and her eyes widen with a startle as she quickly steps out, closing the door behind her. "Maybe wait until tomorrow. Do you need something?" 

"Uh..." Choi Han feels kind of helpless. It's not like Cale knows he wants to ask and is purposely avoiding him, right? But then, why is Kitsi allowed to be here? "I... I just wanted to make sure it was alright I stay with Grandma tonight." 

Kitsi relaxes slightly. "Oh, he told me already that if you end up asking that, it's no problem. Don't worry about him for the night, Choi Han." She flashes him a tiny smile, more the tick of her lip. "He's got five real good bodyguards in us, alright?" 

Choi Han bites the inside of his cheek, feeling that the good time to ask if she knows how Cale is doing has already slipped away. If even he can tell, it'd probably be super tactless to prod, so he disengages disappointedly. "Um, yeah. Thanks, Kitsi. Goodnight."

Kitsi wishes him well, telling him to send her friends over whenever he sees them, but Choi Han forgets almost as soon as she's out of sight. They probably figured it out, he thinks to himself later at night, when he's settling in to sleep and finally remembers Kitsi's request. He'd been so lost in his own head that he'd barely registered her speaking, but hopefully someone else let them know they were on guard duty. 

Despite himself, Choi Han sleeps peacefully in his regular home in the village that helped him learn to live in this strange world. He's only reminded of all his current problems when he wakes and goes for breakfast, seeing Cale idly flipping his skewer and Casul hovering around him in some attempt of cheering him up. Cale only engages to ask when everyone will be ready to leave, voice as depressed and monotone as it had been yesterday. 

Choi Han's worry returns with a viciousness. He's not close to Cale, but they'd traveled together for a decent amount of time and Choi Han had helped look after Cale directly after the Plaza attack. He'd like to consider them friends, more than contracted business partners. It's not... out of line for him to worry about someone who's looked out for him and praised his good work in the past. 

"Cale-nim, good morning," he greets, setting his own skewer over the fire as he sits beside Cale. 

Cale does that same hollow-smile thing he'd forced onto his face yesterday, giving Choi Han an absent greeting back. He doesn't meet Choi Han's eyes, smile twitching off his face seemingly more quickly than he'd intended it to. 

The conversation dies, the same way it had done repeatedly when Pasteon tried this with Cale yesterday. Choi Han panics a little. If Pasteon couldn't get through to Cale, then why would Choi Han be able? It's not as though Choi Han is particularly socially competent. Still, he's already here, and... is there any harm in making it clear to Cale that he cares, is willing to listen?

That'd been what Grandma said to do, even if Cale didn't end up opening up. 

"Um, did you sleep well last night? I hope the guest cabin was comfortable," Choi Han starts. Ease into it. Ease into it. Sleep is normal small talk, right? Something like this makes sense to bring up to someone so used to luxury, anyway. 

Cale hums. "Everyone was generous with accommodating us. Thank you." 

...Right. Um. "That's, um, good," Choi Han fumbles. "Uhm, do you... are you not hungry?" 

Cale sighs this time, sharply. "Is there something you want, Choi Han?" 

Choi Han winces. "I just... I know I asked yesterday, Cale-nim, but I can tell something's bothering you. Are you feeling alright? Has something been worrying you?" 

The only warning Cale provides for his oncoming outburst is the grit of his teeth and clench of his fists before his skewer clatters to the ground. The air falls heavy with pressure like Choi Han has only felt from the stronger monsters he'd faced in the Forest of Darkness, emanating from a wild-eyed Cale like a warning as he shoots to his feet. "What is with you all?! I'm fine! I said I'm fine, so I'm fine! There's no reason to keep—keep pestering! You gain nothing from it!"

Choi Han shrinks away from the oppressive aura, teeth grit as he stammers against his own will. "I-I'm just conc—"

"Don't be!" 

The pressure increases tenfold and Choi Han flinches away, eyes wide. A nearby child, presumably on the outskirts of the pressure's reach, bursts into fearful tears. 

As if it had never existed, the pressure shrinks into nothing. Cale stumbles back like withdrawing it had slammed the full force into his body, his own gaze shaking as it flickers between the few people present near the fire this early in the morning. Choi Han can see his throat bob as he swallows. "I—I didn't..." He chokes off, seeming short of breath. "Sorry. I—sorry." 

Cale turns on his heel and runs. 

What the fuck was that? What the fuck was that? What the fuck was that? 

The thought races around his mind on loop. He hadn't meant to do... whatever it was. He still doesn't know what happened. He just... lashed out, and he was angry so he yelled, because that's the only goddamn thing he knows how to do, and then a child started fucking crying and Choi Han flinched away, and he looked at Cale afraid the same way Basen had looked at Cale afraid and fuck. 

All of them around him had looked scared. He'd scared them. 

Because he'd lashed out. Because he's a trashy young master who doesn't know how to do anything but. Choi Han was just being polite, just asking what was keeping Cale so miserable and dragging everyone else's mood down. 

Maybe it would be better if he fucking explodes. He'd be less of a burden on everyone else. It's not like it'd take much to leave some instructions behind. 

I don't wanna die. I wanna survive. I wanna protect my family. 

Cale is sure someone's around that can hear him, but they already see him as a no-good violent meathead, so what'll it matter to worsen his reputation? He kicks at a pile of scrap lumber with a wordless scream, stomping on it and screaming again instead of acknowledging how much that stupid kick hurt his stupid foot. And it's satisfying, it feels good to be violent, to have that violence inflicted back onto him with every movement, but he somehow still ends up sobbing loudly over his stupid broken-up pile of lumber. 

He's out of energy soon enough, anyway, and he crouches down to keep crying as he accepts his stupid defeat. At the handless pile of lumber. 

How pathetic. 

I don't wanna die. I don't wanna be scary anymore. 

There's a nook in the gap between a stone building and the village wall, hidden from the sunlight and looking deep enough that it'd be hard to see or hear anyone inside. Cale crawls in without thinking, half-hoping he explodes then and there so he doesn't make any more kids burst into tears by witnessing his violent outbursts. A violent, useless piece of trash. 

Is that all he's good at? It was supposed to be an act. A lie. Has he spent so long pretending that it's just who he's become? Is there just no one under there, so he defaults to the mask he's worn the longest?

It's not fair. It's not fair. Cale misses being good. He misses being liked. Loved. It was hard, but it was rewarding. People looked at the bright young master, so obedient, so helpful, and smiled. They patted his head, praised him for his dedication. Other kids would come up to him and try to make friends, with or without motivation from their parents, because people liked being around Cale. He was sweet, and polite, and everyone always said how he was just like his mother. 

The only thing of her left in him is her blood and her power, and even the latter refuses to recognize Cale.

Cale, listen to me, please. C'mon. 

Captain? 

Hey kid. I've been trying to get your attention for a minute now.

"Sorry," Cale mumbles aloud, having no reason to keep his replies unspoken. "Didn't mean to ignore you."

I understand, it's alright. You've got... a lot going on.

Cale snorts. "Understatement of the century."

Hah, yeah. I guess that's true, Captain agrees, chuckling along obligingly. All the more reason to talk to me, kid. I promise I won't tell a soul.

"Ha-ha," Cale laughs, rolling his teary eyes. "You're such an old guy, it's annoying."

Aw, you think I'm funny, c'mon. Stop changing the topic, now. Tell me what's bugging you.

"You know what's bugging me. We literally share a brain."

But isn't it better if I hear it from you? Cale hates when Captain has a valid point. He gets far too annoying about it. Besides, I know it's not just the impending doom that's screwing with your head.

"...Real nice way to put it," Cale grumbles without heat, but sighs and concedes to Captain's prodding. "I don't... I only became this way to protect Basen, but it's obviously not protecting him well enough, and on top of that my stupid life is ruined. I don't... I'll never regret trying to keep my brother safe, but I..." He runs out of words, slumping forward and burying his face in between his knees. It's hard to breathe, positioned like this in a cramped space, but it's kind of hard to breathe either way so Cale doesn't mind it too much.

Tired of people seeing you that way? Reacting like you're something violent? Scared you'll lash out? Captain pushes, filling in the blanks Cale left. Incorrectly.

"That's not even it!" Cale protests. "I don't give a shit how fuckin'... I don't know, Baron kiss-my-ass thinks of me, but I still... Seeing Choi Han look at me like Basen did..." Why does it bother him so much? It doesn't make sense. Cale really doesn't care how the other nobles perceive him. He'd really prefer if they think of him poorly. So why does it constrict his chest like this to have glanced around that campfire and only met gazes filled with fear?

Captain sighs, and Cale would've curled into a tighter ball at the sound if he could. I hate to break it to you, but you care about these people, kid. That's what happens when you love people: you start caring how they see you.

Haa. Is that really it? Cale's fallen so low? His hands thread into red strands and tug.

Hey, stop that.

"I'll do whatever I damn well please," Cale mumbles, tugging harder. The pain is good. Grounding. It makes it easier to think for the briefest of moments, and then the pain-clarity fades and Cale has to tug again, harder if he's able. He'll tug himself bald at the rate he's going and finds he doesn't really care.

Cale, really. This isn't something to beat yourself up over. It's not your fault, Captain says, his daily sympathy limit apparently reached.

Cale snorts. "Yeah? Me flipping out at Choi Han for asking if I'm okay wasn't my fault? Riddle me this: who the hell should I blame?"

If it were me pointing fingers, Captain says wryly, I'd start with that new friend you ignored yesterday.

Cale pauses his tugging, glancing up as though he'll see Captain in front of him. "Wh...what?" If it was some kind of Ancient Power, wouldn't he have noticed it being used? His body hasn't experienced any adverse effects yet, either..?

He calls it "Dominating Aura," Captain relays. The whole thing is making you seem scarier than you are, is my understanding. You can give off the aura of a swordmaster without training a day in your life.

Cale feels a little delirious with the laugh that bursts out of him, absolutely incandescent with fury as he lets that revelation sink in. What a perfect power for an actor scum. "Congrats, Thief," he murmurs. "I have a new least favorite."