Chapter Text
Legs' boots thudded against the ground as he ran, thick pine trees passing him as he ran. Branches broke beneath his steps as stars passed above him, blinking in and out of sight as the canopy above filtered the faint moonlight into the woods. His lungs burned with every breath as his surroundings blurred around him, weaving through trees.
Shit. Shit.
He had to go.
He had a vague idea of what direction he needed to go in, but he hadn't actually been to The Alcove before.
What a time to go.
Legs' foot caught on a gnarled root sticking out from one of the trees, sending him toppling forward. He pinwheeled his arms in an attempt to keep balance, and managed to catch on one of the low hanging branches, stopping him in his descent.
Keep running.
Smoke, dirt, and the faint tangy smell of chemicals clung to him as he gasped for air, his vision fading in and out around the edges as blood pounded in his ears.
Keep going. Keep running.
You're almost there.
Orin would be there. He said he'd always be there.
L said he'd always be there. he corrected as his vision cleared, and he broke off into another sprint. Legs had only met Orin once, almost two years ago, and everything else had been occasional letters from sparrows or messages from L.
He wasn't even sure if he was going in the right direction anymore. Everything in the woods outside of Thistle Hill looked the same, especially at night.
Especially with so much smoke still lingering.
Smoke that tasted like chemicals and dyed the air blue.
And it burned.
His lungs still ached, not just from the running, but from the burns that surely lined his throat by this point. The same echo of pain he had felt before, when the same chemicals had been confined to the smaller space of his workshop.
The same blue.
He broke through the thicket of trees into a clearing within the woods, almost running directly into a fence.
A small cabin sat in front of him, made of dark wood and rough stone. Puffs of smoke came up from the chimney, catching in the moonlight that shone down on the house. A small garden was fenced in the front of the cabin, broken up by a small path that led from the gate to the front steps.
This had to be it.
Legs didn't know of anyone else who lived this close to Thistle Hill and didn't tell anyone else about it.
He quietly wedged the gate open, his steps soft as he followed the path to the steps. The door itself was made of solid wood, with a small rectangular hole at eye-level.
He hesitated, before knocking on the door.
Silence followed, and every second that passed grated on him.
Come on, Orin. Answer the door.
The hole opened up to another set of eyes squinting back at him.
"Can I help you?"
Right.
Orin didn't recognize him.
Legs didn't blame him; it'd been a while since they'd seen each other, and…
Well, he looked different, to put it mildly.
He scrambled for the necklace tucked under his tunic, pulling it out and holding the medallion up to the eye hole. L had given him the charm after he had officially joined the Brass Ring. He had never tested if it was actually brass, but it looked like it, woven into a tight knot with a sun emblem in the center.
Orin's brown eyes peered at the medallion before looking back at him. "What's yer name?"
"Legundo." his voice was hoarse as he spoke, and he almost winced at the sound of it.
That would take a bit to heal.
A flicker of recognition sparked in Orin's eyes, and the eyehole closed up again. The door handle shifted, before opening a moment later, warm light spilling out from the now-open door.
While Legs had changed since they had last seen each other, Orin looked almost exactly the same, if possible. His auburn hair was illuminated by the firelight inside, tied back at the base of his neck. Shadows gathered under his eyes, the only darkness not deterred by the light from behind him.
"You've… grown." he commented minutely, as if that was the only thing worth mentioning while Legs was at his door in the middle of the night, smelling like a chemical fire.
"Can I come in?"
Orin hesitated, before opening the door wider for him and stepping aside. Legs entered the small hovel, lingering by the door as Orin closed it and made an immediate beeline for the fire. "Sit."
"I don't-"
"Legundo."
Legs cleared his throat slightly before sitting down on the woven carpet near the fire without a second argument. Orin wasn't someone with a particularly commanding presence, but the way he spoke always made others listen, no matter what he was saying.
"Tea?"
"No thank you."
"Suit yourself," Orin removed the kettle hanging from above the fire, pouring the hot water into a wooden cup and setting it on the side table before sitting in the arm chair beside it. "Why are you here? L could have-"
"I know who the rebel contact is." Legs blurted out. All at once, it came pouring out. "It's Olsted. I messed up while trying to figure out a fuel recipie and it turned into a bomb exploded, and Olsted took it and I caught him selling it to the Rebels and they used it today and so many people got hurt and it's my fault and—"
"Legundo, slow down." Orin interrupted, pausing before continuing to speak. "You said it was Olsted?"
"I— yes." he cleared his throat slightly. "It… yeah."
Most of the shock from the revelation had… worn off, more or less, but it was still jarring to think about, and even more so to actually say out loud. "He knows I know now. I can't go back."
Orin's brows drew together, more in thought rather than concern. "When was the last time L delivered you one of my letters?"
"…Two months ago, I think? He said he was going to be out of the area for a bit, so everything else has been by bird."
Legs could see the long-haired ginger in his mind—light on his feet, constantly dipping behind corners, and somehow saying a lot without revealing nearly enough. He didn't even know the man's whole name.
Orin looked back at him, hesitating slightly before speaking. "What do you know of the dragons?"
Legs paused, taken aback slightly by the question.
How was that relevant?
"Not… not much. Why?"
"I have an idea for you." he rose from his chair, abandoning the steaming cup of tea beside it to root through a cabinet. "The Academy is located right next to the capital, which is about three days from here if you leave right now."
"Wh— can't I just stay here for a bit until I figure things out?" Legs shot up from where he had been sitting on the carpet. "I just got here!"
"You're an Acolyte, Legundo, this is something you can do to help." Orin tossed him an empty satchel bag, which he caught. "The Brass Ring has done the same thing in Storm, we have Acolytes among their Storm Raven riders." he looked back at him, his eyes almost alight. "This is an opportunity. We're already trying to quell the war between Storm and Summer, but if we have a member of the Brass Ring within the Dragon Riders, we might actually be able to do something about this."
Legs knew he was right.
He didn't join the Brass Ring knowing that they were trying to change things. Alchemy, unsurprisingly, wasn't a well-known topic within Thistle Hill, and it was almost impossible to find anything that he needed. The Brass Ring was made up of almost entirely Alchemists, and they were able to get him what he needed.
L had eventually told him the whole purpose of the organization, about a year ago, and he'd stayed. He wanted this change—it was the reason he was in this situation in the first place, wasn't it? The Storm Realm had targeted Thistle Hill, and his parents had died because of it. Stopping the war would stop that from happening to anyone else.
He just didn't think he'd be involved like this.
Legs sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "Alright, how is this going to work."
"My brother's already in the capital for other reasons, he can still be your contact between us." Orin explained, shutting the cabinet.
"Wait, still-" Legs paused. "L is your brother?!"
Orin blinked. "Did he… not tell you that?"
"No? Why would he tell me that?"
"…Fair." Orin went back to his chair and picked up the cup of tea, sipping from it. "The capital is north of here. You're going to need to get on the ferry to reach the island— do you have money?"
Legs gave him a look. "Orin, does it look like I get paid?"
"Just checking." Orin sighed, digging into the coin pouch tied to his belt. "It should only be a few silver to get you a one way ticket unless they raised the prices again."
Legs took the silver pieces that he held out, stuffing them into the satchel bag before swinging it over his shoulder. "Is there anything else I should know?"
"Don't die?" Orin offered, and Legs wasn't sure what else he had been expecting from the man.