by Shakyra Dunn
“This is more than just Solus, Leilana,” he cut in. “This is… this is something that I must do. There isn’t anything left that you can say to try and stop me.”
“You’re going to find Amiria, aren’t you?” Rem grew silent. Leilana was clenching her hands into fists, keeping her eyes averted towards the floor. “Just come out and say it.” More silence, but now Rem was clutching his head, gritting his teeth. Another migraine was starting up, but she didn’t consider slowing down. This was too important to shift off to the side. “You barely know her, and yet she means so much to you. You think that leaving here, leaving us, is better because you don’t think that we can help you. I don’t understand how you could think that way, none of us do! I don’t know what you’re thinking anymore, and it bothers me!”
She nearly gasped at the realization of her own statement. She really didn’t understand much about Rem despite the time they had spent together. Rem slammed his left fist into the wall, inches from her head before resting his right hand on the wall as well. The older paint left on the wall that he struck was chipping away, the scent fresh in her nose, and his right hand was becoming shrouded in shadow. Leilana was struggling to breathe. Usually, it was just his left that became enhanced by his budding strength; his Bloodlinch powers were evolving.
Before she could retaliate, he was hovering above her, the familiarity of his calm brown eyes a distant dream compared to the shade of amber resonating under the dim lanterns filling the inn, reminiscent of the crisp autumn leaves drifting from the trees outside. He was breathing heavily down her neck, and any gesture she made to retreat was turning on its head. She recalled this exact expression back in Kalonia, the last time she took an offensive stance against him.
“You lied to me!” he snarled, the words coming out almost guttural.
“I never lied!” she retorted, reaching out her hands in attempts to pry herself free.
Without even grazing his wrists, he grabbed her by the neck, lifting her from the floor. She managed to grab hold of some of his fingers, bending them slightly out of place to force him to loosen his grip, but before she could break away, Rem flung her through the closed door. Leilana barely had time to catch her breath when the impact came. The wooden door frame shattered on contact, the girl sliding across the pavement. Her muscles were racked with pain, splintered and bruised. For a few seconds, she was certain that she lost consciousness, but soon, she was on her feet.
Rem emerged from the inn, his claws digging into the walls keeping what was left of the doorframe intact. The plastering screeched under the pressure of his nails skidding across the already crumbling material, leaving marks that stretched across the surface. The sharp fangs protruding from his mouth became visible as he snarled, his eyes hinting primal instinct—one wrong move and he could cut her to pieces with his bare hands, influenced by the power surging through his body. He was no better than the corrupted shadows, bound to the Order of Helix.
Leilana was hesitant as she reached for the staff folded in place behind her back. Every time that he moved closer to her with twitching hands itching to strike, she kept a close eye on his movements, taking paced steps back. “I didn’t want to have to do this, Rem, but you leave me no choice.”
His lips parted further, and a fierce roar rose from his throat, the sound comparable to a vulture screeching in pain. Leilana flinched but kept her guard up. Rem propelled forward at a masterful speed, and Leilana blocked his oncoming strike with her staff, kicking him back with her left foot. Rem stumbled back in response and stared at her, Leilana’s eyes trained on any potential reactions. Clearly, charging right into battle was going to do him no good.
His eyes narrowed in confusion before settling into irritation. He arched his back in preparation to seize her again. Leilana inhaled slowly as he made a move, taking notice that this time he almost vanished into thin air. His silhouette was becoming difficult to pinpoint as he honed himself into the rage that fueled his blossoming power. His footsteps were distant, and the dead leaves on the ground were all that she had to go off of to determine his movements. Even then, it wasn’t much given that they were rapidly shifting directions. Her mind and body couldn’t keep up. Rem had become too swift and unpredictable, and training in the past meant that he knew a fair amount of her strategy.
When he came back into her sight, his face was centimeters away from hers. She gasped, attempting to swing her staff at him only for him to grasp her left wrist. She brought up her free hand to try and counterattack, hoping not to deal any severe damage, but he was able to grab that arm as well before any impact came. The amber haze was overpowering the iris and cornea now. The sight was haunting—there was bound to be no return.
He twisted her arms, his shoe pressing against her spine. Leilana’s head snapped up as he prepared to knock her down a peg a second time, but right as he held up his foot, she kicked his knee, an audible pop erupting and causing him to howl in pain. Once she had shattered his defense, she tackled him to the ground, bending his leg out of place. Rem continued to scream as she held him down, rolling over to try and break from her grasp. The slight movement caused her grip to loosen, and Rem threw a fist into her stomach, sending her flying. Her staff slipped from her grasp, and Rem cleared the distance to the girl. Before she got to her feet to reclaim what was lost, he grabbed her by the neck, pinning her to the ground, his nails digging into tearing flesh.
“All this time, and you didn’t bother trying to understand me.” The voice that penetrated through her struggle for air was far from his own. It was empty, hopeless. Every ounce of the Remiel Vesarus that she knew was gone. A crimson aura was streaming from his body, and Leilana’s heart was racing at the sight.
The path to understanding has been plagued by misfortune.
A reversal is necessary to right the wrongs of a broken spirit.
“It was always about you, and your pilgrimage.” He continued to press his claw to her throat, quickening the process. “You only got close to me to gain my totem, but you know what? I don’t have one. I have nothing left to offer you.”
“Don’t do this,” she whispered. “Please, Rem. Please snap out of it.”
“You’re out of time,” he growled.
“Rem!” Sien’s voice cut through. “Don’t you hurt her!”
Rem was turning his head when an arrow plunged into his back. Leilana punched him in the face after his grip was loosened by the sudden attack. He fell, and she grabbed his arms, pinning them behind his back, breaking the arrowhead with her right hand and yanking the remains out, causing him to screech in agony. Leilana glanced up at Sien, her hand pressed to Rem’s wound to slow the bleeding. Her long scarlet hair was flowing in the light wind. She retained her stance, ready to fire another arrow. Her eyes were determined, but Leilana noticed traces of tears welling up. At her side stood Solus, who took to watching the sight from the open door, his eyes narrowed with contempt.
“He wants to leave, allow him,” the man stated. Rem was fighting to free himself from Leilana’s grip, the movement making the blood spill faster. “Let him fight his own war.” Leilana stole a glance at her open hand, the sticky substance covering every inch of her skin.
“We can’t do that, he’ll die,” Sien’s voice was caught in her forced levity, cracking every few words. As much as she wanted to help, she wasn’t sure what was left to do for him.
“He wants to find Amiria,” Leilana stated. Rem was half-panting, half-snarling, his eyes darting in every direction before locking on Solus, which only agitated his fits further. “Maybe it’d be better to let them meet. She can probably ease his suffering. That was why he wanted to leave in the first place.”
“He doesn’t have to leave to feel like he’s needed and supported by people that care about him!” Sien exclaimed, stomping her foot on the ground. “Why are the two of you so quick to give up on him?! You’re supposed to be his friends!” Her shoulders were trembling, tears rolling down her face. She tried to wipe them
away, to no avail. “It’s ridiculous! All of this is ridiculous! No wonder that he felt so alone! I could see that in his eyes, he was fighting hard to keep being himself around you!”
Solus reached out a hand to rest on her shoulder. “Sien, you’re reading too far into this-”
Sien slapped his hand away. “No!” She stepped back. “If you let him go now, I’ll…!” She gripped her hair before pushing him out of the way, storming off. Solus watched her before deciding that it was best for her to cool off, approaching Rem and Leilana, the girl continuing to keep a hold on him.
“Remiel, I’ve said some bothersome things, and I can’t take them back.” He rested a hand on his chest, bowing to the young prince, which managed to still Rem’s actions. “I shall always follow you as a loyal servant and friend until the end of my days. I swore that I would let you mark your own path. The time has come to uphold that personal vow. Leave. You will always have a place at our side. We will end this conflict as one when you are ready.”
Leilana shifted from Rem, and he scrambled away from her, panic overtaking him. He stepped back, a hand over the wound, but before Leilana could call to him, wanting to ease his pain by bandaging his injury, he took off running through the town, dripping blood in his wake.
Once he was gone, the adrenaline fueling her siphoned out, and Leilana had to grip to Solus’s arm to keep from falling. Her arms were stinging, the splinters of the wooden door lodged into her flesh. Her ribs and back ached with each slight movement, traces of dried blood on her neck. She could still feel Rem’s claws penetrating deep, her fragile skin in his hands comparable to a knife cutting into butter.
Solus rested a hand under her chin, forcing her to face him. His eyes were laced with sincerity, a soft smile on his face, but his own exhaustion was still evident. The noise outside must have woken him and Sien, but without their support, things would have been far worse.
“You did well for your first true strife. A shame who your opponent was.”
“I suppose.” Leilana was holding her ribs; moving around wasn’t the wisest of options, and she didn’t want to aggravate Solus further. Contrary to her thoughts, he carefully wrapped an arm around her waist, being mindful of her pain, taking her into his arms. She couldn’t stop blinking in surprise.
“I doubt that we’ll be seeing Sien for the remainder of the evening,” he began, looking towards the inn to avoid her gaze. Leilana was unsure if it was out of embarrassment or if he was just too deep in thought over Rem. “How about we stay close to one another tonight to avoid more mishaps?”
“All right,” she said quietly.
He carried her back into the inn. The guests were probably more than disturbed by this point, but the burned-out candles leaving the inn pitch blackness worked to mask his silhouette. Leilana couldn’t stop staring at the broken door, a draft pushing through. The miniscule gusts of wind sent chills down the back of her neck, and she instinctively gripped to Solus’s sleeve until they reached their room and he laid her on the bed, tending to her wounds to the best of his ability. True to Solus’s words, Sien hadn’t come back, and likely wouldn’t.
“Is there anything that I can do for you now?”
“You don’t have to treat me so formally,” she suggested. “I’m not Rem.”
Her choice of words wasn’t the greatest, she realized upon seeing his once bright smile falter into one of strain and concealed anguish. Of course, it was going to bother him for a while—his best friend took off because of something that he said. Bitter words were traded that convinced him that running was the best option, and now the guilt was creeping up on Solus.
“My apologies,” he settled with, straightening his back, taking a seat on the bed across the room where Rem once laid his head. “I just wanted to help. It’s best to keep my mind on other things.”
“I think that you should rest too, Solus,” she stated. “Throwing your mind into other places isn’t smart when there’s so much going all already.”
“I’ve shouldered far more than some choice words. No need to be concerned about me.”
“I know that you have. That’s why I don’t want you to endure more than you need to. I know what happened is bothering you just as much as it’s bothering me and Sien, and I want you to know that I’ll support you, no matter what. This is something that we’re allowed to make amends over together.” He couldn’t stop blushing, hiding behind his hair by turning his head. “No more secrets, okay?”
“Something that you want to tell me then?” he joked.
“I want you to know that I care about you,” she stated. “More than I care about a lot of people. And not just you, I care deeply about Rem and Sien as well. The four of us, we’ve gone through a lot together. Once all of this is over, and I can see my pilgrimage to its end, I’m coming back with you all.”
“To Linmus?”
“I want to become Linmus’s Warlord,” she said proudly. “That is my end goal.”
He chuckled. “I’m thrilled that you’ve set your sights on your future.”
“That’s not all. I want to stop being naïve about my feelings. You, Sien, Rem… you’re all a part of my pilgrimage already. You carry your own totems.” She gestured to the pendant around her neck. “I already have one. This belonged to Lancett. It was something that Kindall gave him right before he died. I assumed that this totem was meant to be Kindall’s, but his will passed on to Lancett, and Lancett gave me the opportunity to carry out their ambitions.”
“You said that we all have totems so far. What do we have?”
“I only know Rem and Sien’s.” Solus almost seemed disappointed. She was still unsure of where he stood in her life. “Sien is full of laughter, and Rem is understanding. But right when Rem left, it seemed to revert to the state before I unlocked his potential. I’m not sure what I can do to resolve it, and I’m worried that because Sien is angry at me, she’ll end up becoming the same way. I can’t afford too many setbacks.”
“I’m certain that things will work out. You’ll be able to stay on track, and I’ll do my best to guide you to your remaining totems. I mean, that’s already four you have set in stone and one that you’ve already claimed for your own. I think in six months, that’s great progress.” She couldn’t help but grin. In the spots where her confidence began to crack, he worked seamlessly to stitch them together. “Rem will come around, and Sien shouldn’t stay mad for too long. She never really does.”
“I sure hope that you’re right. Um, can I ask you something too?” He nodded. “When we found you in the forest, right before coming to Sankuri, why did you cry? What did you remember?” His smile wiped completely away, his pupils dilating. It was as if the question sucked his hope away in an instant. She retracted immediately. “I’m sorry, that was out of line.”
He held up a hand to quell her concerns. “No, it wasn’t, I just wasn’t expecting that question.”
“You don’t have to tell me. It’s been a long night, and I’m sure that we’re both tired.”
Solus was unsure how to respond. She was pinching for reasons to pull herself out of the situation, all too noticeable. Deciding that maybe turning in for the night was for the best, he pressed his lips to her forehead, his fingers intertwining with her curly locks, then scampered to his bed across the room, throwing the blankets over himself without another word. Leilana’s hands flew to her burning cheeks. He really could be childish, and somehow, it was comforting.
Rem sat under a tree, his hands prying into his arms. The crystalline communication orb was sitting in the crevice of the tree trunk, taunting him. He wanted to chuck it and go about his life not worrying about her, but he couldn’t shake the urge to call. He couldn’t stop thinking about Solus, about Sien’s urgency when he was trapped in a downward spiral, and the pain he had inflicted on Leilana. She could have died. That was the last thing he wanted, putting unnecessary blood on his hands.
In one night, he crumbled his friendships and turned tail like a coward
.
Swallowing his pride, he grabbed the orb, clenching it with his left hand. He could still feel the aura of his Bloodlinch powers swirling through his palms, and he hoped that his untapped strength would keep the orb intact a little longer.
“Prince Remiel?” He was overjoyed that Amiria responded so quickly, but now that a voice was flowing through the tranquil forest, it was too much to bear. “Did something happen?” she asked, her voice changing from compassion to concern.
He choked down the tears threatening to rise, trying to maintain a brave face for her. “I-I need you to meet me somewhere. Anywhere. And don’t let the Order of Helix find you.”
“I’ll leave before dawn. You’re east of Sankuri, right? I can tell by all of the mahogany trees.” He slowly nodded. “Keep going east, and you should reach Ocula. I’ll meet you there.”
“I can’t go to Ocula,” he tried to reason. “I need to stay as far away from there as possible-”
“It will be all right. We won’t be staying. Promise me that you’ll meet me there in the morning. Try to keep yourself from being seen.”
He sighed. He had to remain hopeful that his group wouldn’t try to follow him by then. He couldn’t afford to put them in more danger. “All right.” As soon as her face faded from the orb’s illusion, another crack formed in its place. Soon enough, it would shatter, and that would be the last that he would see of her unless she had more to provide.
Ocula was still hours away from Sankuri. The long night was continuing.
Crashing on a bench in a sleeping town after a strenuous journey seems like a good idea when money is fresh out. In hindsight, there are no worries about getting robbed. aside from clothes. There was also the possibility of getting stabbed in one vital organ and potentially dying from the blood loss because some unfortunate fool decided that the ripped clothes looked like a perfect fit. Rem was grateful that he only had to deal with one of those issues upon arriving in Ocula with still-mending wounds, and that hiding a body was a fine art he had come to use to his advantage.