Even as Edmond’s consciousness slipped into the void, there was one memory he continued to cling to. Was it due to tenacity? Or something closer to an obsession? Whatever it was, it produced a picture with detail that had yet to age at all.
One of a freezing, cruel field.
A month had passed since he had unfairly lashed out at his father. Five days since the accident that left the man broken and burnt, stuck to whatever the hospital managed to put up for him. Maybe an hour since Isolde ran away from the house.
I can’t hear my voice.
While he had never really understood his father’s novels, the inspiration behind them was always something they could connect over. Golden Earl Rigel, Knight-King Arstor, Nemesis the Vagrant, and so many more. Real or myth, superheroes who would fight off the monster that was ‘helplessness’.
Even now, he was confused and frustrated at how he handled that day. The taunting at school, every year from the day when the teacher asked about the students’ future ambitions, had always felt bearable enough. But maybe, eluding his knowledge or perhaps willfully ignored, it instead had piled on bit by bit.
My throat is crumbling.
Isolde had not said anything, but the eyes with which she looked at him since news of the plane accident reached them were obvious enough. She remembered, and focused more than anyone on what had gotten her father in such a position.
Edmond did not know when or why exactly she ran out. Maybe she was trying some nonsense method to help her dad, found on a random shady website. Or perhaps she simply could not stomach being in the same house as her older brother. No matter the case, she was out, while Mom was stuck at the hospital with Max.
He called for help, of course, but a police search in this snowstorm? It would take too long. Despite not much time having actually passed, even a second of not knowing where his sister was… how she was, was one second too many. A feeling that tore everything from the inside out.
I can’t feel my hands.
The vast white hell felt as if it was slicing him into pieces from the moment he stepped out, but he braved onward without hesitation. Every step was grueling, and he found it almost impossible to keep his eyes open for even a few seconds. Still, all this paled in comparison to what consumed Edmond’s mind.
He had yet to see a single other person. Someone who could assist him, someone who might have seen the girl if only for a split second, or maybe just someone who could provide a sliver of sympathy. The blizzard that kept everyone indoors and did away with most vehicle traffic, was the one Isolde had been surrounded by for who knows how long.
When Edmond found his sister, hardly anyone would disagree with calling it a miracle. And yet, even so, for just a moment… he wished he had not.
Isolde is not moving.
He approached the downed girl, muscles burning, and picked her up in his arms.
Isolde is not moving.
He hugged her as tightly as his weak body would allow, covering all he could to futilely shield her from further cold. Edmond screamed with a throat that felt like snapping every time, and yet his voiced failed to reach even him.
Isolde is not moving.
His feet lost their footing, as he screamed again. He found it impossible to lift the girl again.
Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. No warmth at all. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Police, police. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. They’re taking too long. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I can’t remember the way back. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I’m so sorry. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. I don’t know what to do. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving. Isolde is not moving…!
Someone please help her.
At some point, Edmond became unable to make out much detail. But against the pure white background, such a shadow would never go unnoticed.
“How long have you been calling out? And in this cold…”
When his own screams would not reach anywhere near him, this person’s words were somehow so very clear. And with each of them, it felt like all the heat he needed returned, slowly but surely.
He looked up with a neck that seemed to creak on every slight move. He saw her bandaged right eye, long hair that looked like she had just gotten out of bed.
“Such tenacity. You just saved both of you, mister badass.”
As she carried the siblings in her arms, allowing Edmond to see her dark and unfashionable clothes, all he could think about was the woman’s cluelessness. His inability to express it out loud was nothing short of frustrating.
“Be proud, and leave the rest to me.”
Her violet left eye narrowed, accompanied by a smile he would remember until his very end.
That day, in the middle of the blizzard, Edmond caught a glimpse of the scariest feeling of all.
And right after, he learned of something with even more value.
Rescued by a woman like no other, he met a real superhero.
When Edmond woke up, he did not feel rested at all. After all, it may have been sheer discomfort and pain that brought him back to consciousness, after whatever coping mechanisms his body mustered had relaxed.
Even reflexive movements caused his throat to strain with the inklings of a wail, so he briefly settled for just opening his eyes. Luckily, not many lights were on, allowing him to see more or less properly within a few seconds.
The initial sight was confusing by itself, but as he looked around more, as much as his aching neck would allow, he realized he was not in his apartment. Edmond pushed at the cushion under him with his left arm in order to see more.
The place was significantly larger than his own, painted in a rich blue color with hazy, abstract patterns flowing seamlessly across several of the walls. The floor was carpeted, with not only pieces of apparel sprawled on it, but also empty grocery bags. The contrast between the décor, even the sofa bed he laid upon, and the apparent indifference of whatever slob lived in such a place was striking. Still, that was definitely the least of Edmond’s concerns.
Not only was this not his apartment, but it was also one he had never seen before.
But before he could force his pained body to do anything about it, or even fully panic, his attention was drawn to a sudden, clear noise. His eyes traveled from the entrance, over the relatively small table adjacent to the kitchen, and settled on the just opened door on the other side’s corridor.
Seeing the girl walk out helped him relax, while tensing back up in a different way.
“I thought you’d take maybe an hour more or so to wake up. Nothing wrong with that if you’d rather.” Tatyana’s flowing brown ponytail rushed the memories of recent events back into his psyche, even if her loose t-shirt and shorts were lighter than what she wore back then, and any other time he had seen her.
“You patched me up?” Edmond replied quickly, deciding against some sarcastic reference to his discomfort’s incompatibility with any long rest.
The girl’s expression twitched somewhat as she approached, carrying three small bags in her hands.
“Overstatement. I tried to disinfect the worst of it and prevent excess bleeding where I could, but I needed more things. Besides, that arm…”
Edmond’s eyes blinked, then opened wide on what she said last. He turned fast enough for another burst of pain to spread through him, but that was far from his priority. He looked at his right forearm, laying across his lower abdomen.
The mix between blood that had become sticky and that which had not, dyeing the tight and hurried bandages crimson, was still far from the focus of attention. Instead, it all laid upon the relatively thick, cut off cord sticking out… or rather, on the thicker metal hook it was connected to, still embedded deep within.
Edmond’s heartbeat rushed, followed by his breathing. His mind chilled as he wondered just how he had even missed it before, or if he had just actively ignored it for as long as he possibly could.
When Tatyana knelt at his side, before the sofa bed, the instinctive expression with which he turned was more than a little regrettable. Her own look widening briefly, she glanced aside right after in what seemed to be slight remorse.
“I wanted to treat that right away, but it would have been bad to take it out without the necessary supplies on hand. Now you’re awake and…”
“… Just do it.”
The girl turned back, now more in apparent doubt than shame, as if looking for confirmation that Edmond had really said that. Quite understandable, so he was ready to follow up.
“I’d much rather you get it over with than stay like this, I mean it.”
I might throw up if I look at it carelessly again…
Doing his best to keep his eyes away from the mangled arm, Edmond shifted slightly to make Tatyana’s task easier. His earlier aches were significant, but the pain of finally moving his right arm almost made Edmond’s mind blank out.
Losing a balance on the sofa bed that should normally be effortless, only Tatyana’s quick action prevented him from falling flat on the floor. Unfortunately, even her hands as they caught him and laid him down properly made more pain pulsate throughout his body.
“With you like this, you’ll surely regret it when I get to work.”
“Then you can get me something to bite on or whatever. Please…”
Tatyana frowned with a mix of annoyance and unease, silent for several seconds until acknowledging no further replies from Edmond. She sighed, a hand brought to her forehead which then brushed some brown locks back. Attentively looking over the forearm covered in crusted bandages, she used a small bottle to disinfect her hands and disposable gloves alike, before putting them on.
This was not the first time he had been injured, so the slow and delicate peeling of bandages in the way was bearable. His suit was still on his body, despite being even more mangled than usual, and much of the wound remained beyond view. It had also soaked up a fair amount of blood before the bandages had been applied, so what was visible aside from the hook was hardly more than an indistinct mess of gray and red.
Edmond shivered slightly as Tatyana started touching the gash, trying her best to be gentle but needing to orient herself properly around the hook. It was still not something he would raise his voice about, and the stronger reaction came from Tatyana instead, who stopped her hands as if they had frozen and looked up at him with serious, yet somewhat frantic eyes.
Edmond himself was startled by her unusual display, enough to be briefly distracted from the issue at hand. After not receiving the type of response she may have expected, Tatyana’s eyes wandered awkwardly before focusing once more.
“I’m… doing it.” She warned.
A full second needed for Edmond to properly register what was about to happen, he blinked and sighed, then sighed again. That second deep breath was the most he would allow of himself, remaining as still as he could right after both to communicate his ‘approval’ to Tatyana, and to brace himself.
One of her hands holding onto what remained exposed of the hook, the other reached for the more difficult section with noticeable tact. Still, when the time came to actually move it, such care amounted to quite little.
A unique, visceral discomfort radiating from his forearm, Edmond reflexively shut his eyes and gritted his teeth until his jaw ached, with the sound accompanying such a feeling almost causing him to panic on its own. Cold sweat trailed down his forehead and temple, as if suffering from a terrible fever, but he managed to not shiver as he tightened his left hand into a throbbing fist and audibly breathed out.
After perhaps five seconds that he could barely ascertain, a quiet, wet sound that was slightly different barely reached him, followed by the noise of metal weighing several hundred grams dropping on the carpeted floor. The delayed relief from hearing such was enough for him to mostly ignore the sting of disinfectant spray on his open wound.
“Shit…” Tatyana muttered to an inattentive Edmond, who could not know if it was from the carpet being soiled or from fully witnessing the gash’s extent.
He opened his eyes again, blinking away a few more tears as he redirected his attention. Significant bleeding resumed as soon as the hook was taken out, but it slowed down and receded rather quickly when the tar-like medical gel was applied by the girl’s fingers. As more seconds passed, the opaque substance lost more and more of its integrity, as if melding with the tissue. It usually disappeared completely within a few minutes and the effects were the real deal, not only serving as a coagulant but also accelerating healing. However…
It’s like sludge.
… looking at it still made him squeamish. It was quite the difficult thing to get used to.
“Alright, that’s out of the way. So, how does this whole costume deal work?”
“… Costume?”
“Suit, outfit. Whatever you want to call it, does it have a zipper or a buckle? We need to check for injuries under it and…”
Edmond barely heard Tatyana’s explanation. Instead, the attention that had been fully occupied by his discomfort and mangled arm abruptly switched to his attire. His arm, which should have been covered in the sleeve of his hooded sweatshirt, had only been wrapped by his suit and bandages, the latter of which were now removed.
With the area around his head feeling slightly different than it should, Edmond brought his good hand to it and touched hair dirtied by dry sweat and blood. His suspicions became panicked realization, noticing that he was not wearing the hooded sweatshirt that helped hide his identity.
“…!”
He gasped and pulled back, helped by the medical gel somewhat numbing the injury in his arm. Breathing quickly, he only failed to berate himself due to hurried attempts to think of some solution. When he looked at Tatyana, she showed confusion for only an instant before looking at him in troubled understanding, hands still wearing soiled gloves raised to indicate no dangerous intentions.
The genuine version of this novel can be found on another site. Support the author by reading it there.
“Look, I know what you’re thinking, just hear me out for a minute. What remained of your hoodie fell out as I carried you here, not worth to go and pick up when being pursued and… well, whatever. Your mask’s still in pretty good shape, but…”
If the realization of his missing sweater caused Edmond’s heart to race painfully, that simple ‘but’ instead made it sink into a void.
“… But you already know it’s me.”
Tatyana’s eyes darted away briefly after his response, tongue poking inside her cheek as she nodded reluctantly.
He remained still for several seconds, fully attentive to the gesture so as to fully confirm its meaning. It would have been best for her to deny it, but he would have been satisfied with uncertainty as well. Neither one was found.
Edmond brought his left hand to his face, awkwardly reaching for the exposed area on the upper right in a frustrated display, slumping as if a weight had been lifted off him. Only the conveyed feeling was resignation, rather than any sort of relief.
“Since when?”
“Today.”
“… What?”
His voice cracked for an instant, but he did not care. Caught completely off-guard, he could do little more than blink and lightly turn his head, wanting to ask more questions yet unable to properly formulate them.
He was even more confused when he saw Tatyana’s turquoise eyes narrow in irritation.
“You really think last night would have happened if I knew then?”
“You mean our… err, fight?”
Her expression twisted immediately as he finished his question, a severe mix of problematic emotions in a showing that made him instinctively tighten his lips shut. Even then, he did not feel fully safe.
Tatyana groaned in annoyance, forcing herself to look back at Edmond when she was so close to glancing away again. The consequence was a look very similar to a glare as she spoke again, uncontested by the nervous boy.
Tatyana had spent enough time at the police station to think the sun may already be rising when she was let out. Though that was not the case, almost five hours was still a frustrating and embarrassing amount of time to be detained.
“Not like I want to make your night even worse, but this could have easily been avoided.”
“Yeah, yeah.”
“Even as a knight cadet, jumping right into a crime scene…”
Martha’s officer partner may as well have spoken underwater, and Tatyana would have paid him about the same amount of attention. Even as handcuffs were unlocked from her wrists, allowing her regulators to finally ‘breathe’ again, the bulk of her attention was on the sidewalk.
Around four meters away was a smallish coupe, painted in a lustrous black and still clearly on, lights obvious. Leaning back into the trunk was Klo, dressed in an uncharacteristically casual manner and glaring in an even more unusual way.
Tatyana greeted her with a scowl of her own, one that had been mostly present since much longer ago.
“Well, you’re free to go.”
“Of course I am.” She bit back at the officer and walked toward the elf, not even sparing him a glance.
Klo spoke with her frown almost static.
“You know I work till late. I got maybe two hours of shuteye, and only two more will be left when we get home.”
“Oh, so you got to sleep. Fucking fantastic.” Acid words came without hesitation as Tatyana tried to open the door to the shotgun seat. Emphasis on ‘tried’. “This fucking… look, you do this all the time. Why do I have to tell you to unlock!?”
Klo did not reply immediately, busy chuckling over the small gaffe. Hand in one of her pockets, she quickly pressed on the unseen key fob, letting Tatyana in and following soon after at the driver’s seat.
“Just drive…”
“Fine, fine. I might’ve been pissed but it’s not worth making your night worse than… whatever this is.” Beyond that brief laugh, Tatyana’s awkward misstep had brought Klo back to a much more common demeanor. “I’m sure they could’ve gave you a ride home, though.”
“I don’t want to spend a single second more than necessary with those fucks.”
Not that the brunette was paying enough attention for it to matter. She looked out the window, the landscape of deep night Seyfelt blurring even before the car began moving. Her mind was not an exhausted mush yet, but her arrest had been tedious, boring and worrying, mixed in the worst possible way. Question after question, each feeling less relevant than the last, with sessions separated by nonsensically long waits.
“What even happened? Want to share or do I have to insist?”
Frankly, recalling the events just a tad before was preferable… just slightly. In some ways.
“Some gang was fucking around at Epsilon Five. Violet Thorn.”
“Wait, seriously?”
Klo took her eyes off the road, worry obvious in her gaze. The streets on the way were mostly alone for the moment, but a side-glancing Tatyana still responded with a finger gesture to get her friend to look back forward. She complied, but one of her eyes narrowed in slight annoyance. Tatyana continued without minding it.
“I’m fine, the Thorns are not the issue. I arrived when the whole thing was pretty much over and attacked the one guy standing there with a weapon. But… like…”
“… Wrong thug?”
Tatyana shook her head, flexing a few fingers until it was slightly painful.
“Not even a thug, they were some vigilante of all things. The cops wouldn’t tell me much, but it seems like he’s been at it for months.”
“What about the ‘attack’, then? How bad was it?”
She felt a snap-like feeling running up to her knuckle, like she had pulled some muscle when carelessly moving her fingers. She remembered the panicked voice, the unmistakable feeling of her spell piercing through noticeable resistance, as well as the crimson fluid that gradually stained their dark clothes. So vivid were those images that she found more detail in them than in the black city before her eyes.
“… I fucking stabbed them, Klo.” Tatyana replied, plagued by frustration, anger, shame, worry. Even identifying the emotions she felt was a pain in itself.
Fed up with the hardly changing urban scenery, she slumped back into her seat, a hand pressed to her forehead. She glanced at Klo, whose expression had changed into one of troubled understanding.
“I mean… yeah. No wonder the officers thought the worst…”
“They don’t know I did anything to him; he ran off before they saw anything. But that meant I was left alone, in the middle of all the beat-up Thorns. I was fucked either way.”
Tatyana sighed as she remembered the officers’ incredulous looks, a refusal to hear her out or answer anything until getting to the station, and even then just having her interrogated by different people, each of which needed to hear the whole story first. Absolutely infuriating nonsense, and yet the only distraction from just waiting in sheer boredom for hours on end.
“… So it was only this person and the Thorns? Were they the one who called the police?”
Having to repeat the same story to Klo naturally kept the annoying memories fresh in her mind, but not being cuffed and knowing she was increasingly closer to their apartment helped her relax a tad. Her friend’s voice and knowingly tactful approach did not hurt either… but she did not need to know that.
“I guess so. Maybe they wanted back up, or to pull out and leave it to someone else. One of the Thorns they took out seemed like some big shot, Unmasked and all. The cops made a huge fuss about her.”
“Uh-huh. I mean… wait. That’s…”
It did not take long for Tatyana to notice something odd, promptly turning to her friend in confusion.
Klo’s speech was unusual, cut off as if many ideas were competing for priority in her mind. Attention from the already jumpy Tatyana was immediately hogged, and the elf became visibly nervous.
“I just… I don’t know. Ignore me and—”
“I want to hear.”
Klo opened her mouth reflexively as she briefly looked back at Tatyana, but stopped before saying anything. Instead, she sank into her thought for several seconds, and after an awkward breath, she continued.
“If these gangsters are anything like the Shadow Spot, then they’ll want revenge.”
Her turquoise eyes widened slightly, without blinking for quite a bit. Tatyana ran many possibilities through her mind, attempting to find a balance between speed and proper reasoning.
She was not particularly interested in the people that comprised the criminal underworld of Seyfelt, but it being as pervasive as it was, dreadful information still managed to reach her. Particularly as it concerned Last Empire, Shadow Spot and Violet Thorn, the three most prominent gangs in the city, with the best-known practices.
“…”
Beyond the revulsion that came from remembering the news, the rumors and even the occasional ‘accidents’, she strongly recalled her own deed. The grievous injury she inflicted on someone who did not deserve it, the lack of judgment that had led her to make such a decision, their confused and frightened plea…
But most of all, it was not thinking about the vigilante’s impendent danger, but rather what her error could lead to under such circumstances, that caused Tatyana to feel as if her insides had turned into lead. Knowing that even one of their Unmasked was taken down, the Violet Thorn would likely take proper measures.
If such a thing happened, the young vigilante would be completely helpless. Something utterly inhumane, like in the accounts any Seyfelt inhabitant came to know of before long, would happen to them. They might have had the slightest chance under normal circumstances, but not with that wound from tonight.
A wound only Tatyana was responsible for.
“… Damn it. I knew it would turn out like this, and yet I still tell you, fuck…”
Klo grumbled, with a look of such guilt and anxiety that it seemed painful, followed by her fingers on the wheel tightening until they trembled. However, Tatyana felt nothing but indignation in response.
“You really think letting this be is the way to go?”
“Fuck no, but while I don’t know shit about this person, you’re my friend. Want me to just ignore that?”
Turquoise irises locked, or rather clashed with lilac ones, and Tatyana instantly knew any compromise would be too difficult to be worth seeking.
“Whatever. I appreciate the worry, but I’m not about to let someone get their legs torn off or worse because of something I did. Say what you want, but you can’t stop me.”
The car stopped, shutting off at Klo’s parking spot before Tatyana even noticed how close they were to the apartment building. Not that it was of any significant concern.
“But Alyssa can.”
Klo’s declaration, however, was. Enough so for Tatyana briefly hesitate in undoing her seatbelt, and in her reply.
A solid second passed before she clicked her tongue, pressing the belt buckle without holding on to the sash, allowing it to hit just beside the window with a startling noise. Opening the car’s door, Tatyana scowled at Klo with eyes that were almost violent.
“Then tell whoever you want.”
Tatyana stepped out of the car, leaving a groaning Klo to follow after without any further words.
Even after changing and laying down in bed for whatever paltry nighttime they still had left, they had not spoken to each other again. Tatyana locking her room’s door as soon as possible probably helped a lot.
With more time and calm to think things over, the girl realized how inconsequential Klo’s move was. She was already racing against the Violet Thorn; adding her brother’s fiancée and the man himself to the mix did little to alter her constraints. She certainly would never get past them, but they were out of town for good reasons, which she trusted as being enough to buy her at least a day or two.
There was a small possibility her assumptions were incorrect, but she could do nothing about it. Snuffing away her remaining thoughts on Klo’s threat, Tatyana began her research.
Success depended on who could dig up the most relevant and extensive information on the masked stranger more quickly, her or the Violet Thorn. There was no time to rest, regardless of how close the sun was to rising.
Vigilante justice. Masked criminal. Costumed fighter. Gang conflict. New thug.
Some people may have considered network browsing to be below acceptable for such an investigation, but Tatyana knew better than to waste the chance for quick and extensive information, even with dubious veracity. Besides, she had met the person in question, which likely would help her identify and discard useless data.
She expected few usable results from the search, but having little to go on beyond basic descriptors, she was forced to wade through several links with only the most general of information about Seyfelt’s law enforcement and criminal hotshots. It got frustrating, sooner rather than later.
Tatyana aggressively breathed out her nose. The police’s net site was the most useful, with a barebones criminal profile warning about sorcery capacity and violence, as well as some location logs, but little else. Looking for images had her scrolling down until eight out of ten were completely unrelated to her queries, and the videos were even worse. Things were particularly surprising, and not in a pleasant way, when she did not happen upon a single news article mentioning the vigilante.
Maybe it’s their first time taking on such big shots? Though it could also be they started more recently than I thought, or the police are keeping the credit. Appearing stronger to the people in this gang-infested city or something…
The modest progress in her research had her pondering such. Dissatisfied, Tatyana altered her query once more.
Violet Thorn. Scar-Tail.
The police’s site and news sources were about as expected, things she had mostly checked before, so the girl scrolled more, toward more obscure, people-driven sites. That way, she managed to find a public contribution hub dealing with Seyfelt urban lore, with articles for both things she looked for.
The information was certainly of a poorer quality than any official site, with the logs indicating only about twelve individual contributions over the last month. The page on the Violet Thorn was surprisingly developed, though she knew a significant amount of the information was likely embellished or fabricated for a variety of reasons. The page on Scar-Tail did have a picture, as would be expected from an Unmasked, but the actual data was only a single paragraph, extended to four lines even while partially squeezed by the infobox. The ‘stub’ template at the top made Tatyana feel mocked.
She groaned and almost felt like throwing herself back on her chair, but she endured the urge and continued scrolling down. She stayed still for a moment, enough to blink one time as she looked over a lower quality picture in the site’s ‘shuffle’. It was also small, owing to being barely more than a thumbnail, but Tatyana decided to click on it nonetheless, leading her to another stub article.
The picture was slightly larger now, enough for her to more clearly see the similarities in the silhouette, despite the poor lighting conditions. Even with the distance back then, her sorcery-enhanced vision had given a clearer picture, but this was sufficient for the moment.
She looked at the article’s name right after, and one of her eyes twitched slightly as she held in a reflexive chuckle.
No fucking way.
Suppressing her brief, out of place amusement, she checked on the image’s uploader. The highlighted username led her to a user page that indicated mild activity overall, save for one specific discussion thread with over seven contributions to their name.
The thread, of course, came next on her check list.
21>felixreduXxX: how r u guys still on about this
22>LadyVenator99: How havent you found something better to do than bitch here?
23>The1stspear: I mean, I kind of get their point. Rooting for some merc can have actual consequences.
24>MyCeliance: HOW MUCH DO WE NEED TO EXPLAIN THAT THE WHOLE MERC THING IS BS!?!?!? LEARN SOMETHING ABOUT GANG HIRING OR LAY OFF THE SITE!!
25>LadyVenator99: Ignore them, I swear theyre doing it on purpose
26>felixreduXxX: fucking muppets
27>LadyVenator99: Can just imagine them crying and dripping shit when they actually get mugged
28>MyCeliance: LOL the worst part is he would still help them
29>C A R M I N E: on topic, pls. are we going forward with nemesis or moonlight?
30>LadyVenator99: Nemesis ofc. Moonlights good but Nemesis was just genius
31>MyCeliance: <3 thankie thankie
Tatyana had just read the latest comments on the thread, as much as her screen could fit without scrolling up…
“Pfffftt!!”
… but that was plenty enough to let loose the laughter she had managed to restrain earlier.
That’s really the reason~!?
Nemesis the Vagrant. A folk tale character known for their life of travel without a home, as much as their unkempt looks and untrustworthy airs. Yet without fail, they would come to the rescue of the very people who insulted or neglected them in whatever their struggle might be, only to then vanish and resume their journey before they could even apologize or thank them. The nemesis of hopelessness, nothing more and nothing less.
Thinking about it dispassionately, the name was quite fitting and Tatyana could commend… ‘MyCeliance’ for coming up with it. Not that it made the whole thing any less hilarious.
She forced herself back to work, amused and enlivened as she was. Scrolling to the top of the message board, it only consisted of eleven contributors, with very sporadic posts over the last two, almost three months. There was a third person in support of an alternate narrative, but the rest did agree about the ‘heroics’ of this masked stranger. Most of them due to personal experiences, which were somewhat varied.
Rescues from muggings, extortion and forced tribute. Urging them to not walk through a certain area, only to find out about the criminal conflict that transpired through the news on the next day. Crucial assistance after transportation or machinery accidents for which no one was really at fault, and even helping out with an occasional lost child or pet.
Tatyana was impressed, her eyes focusing without difficulty despite her growing sleepiness. She even thought it funny, and somewhat enviable, that ‘MyCeliance’ had met and been helped by them not once or twice, but three times. Either that, or worrying that they somehow got into trouble so often.
Still, besides the fortunately frequent mentions of when these events took place, this was about all Tatyana could garner from the message thread. Not a lot of information by any means, though it was a surprising amount when considering its source.
It was quite unlikely that she would find anything else of use through more browsing, but even so, she had gotten enough to start thinking over things since a while ago, finding her attention increasingly focused on reasoning things out the more she read.
Those shards I saw beside one of the walls were completely shattered, but the material seemed like the real deal. It’s probably what remained of their weapon’s sheath after being broken in the fight with Scar-Tail. The discussion board didn’t mention them using any blades like that one, so either they got it very recently, they don’t have the key, or both. But still… Gamma-class?
Tatyana leaned back on her chair, shutting off her computer. Moving her legs slowly, toward and away from each other, she looked up at her wall, almost to the ceiling as she fell into a sea of thought.
I guess it still could have been stolen, but even that random normie glued to the floor had an Alpha-class javelin. If Thorns can provide unlocked field use knight weapons even to some foot soldiers, why would anyone with the means to steal that go for some crappy, locked Gamma-class?
She stepped onto the carpeted floor, walking toward the thermos filled with water that was now merely cool. Drinking a few gulps she worried over regretting in twenty minutes or so, as it tended to happen.
I can’t really confirm either way. But if that weapon is not stolen, then Mr. ‘Nemesis’ must be a knight, probably a cadet if a Gamma-class is all they have. And if its sheath was broken just like that, then the security alert must have pulsed back to the facility.
Tatyana promptly laid down, her back on the bed. The modestly priced mattress had only felt so comfortable a few times, with the duvet and what she could feel of her blankets underneath so extremely inviting. Sleeping, however, did not even cross her mind.
In that case, to not raise dangerous suspicions and even get registered as a criminal, they’ll have to go to the armory and ask for a sheath replacement as soon as possible, probably with some accident as an excuse… or, well, I guess they could also prevent tracking by smashing up the weapon itself, but that would just get whoever’s behind the mask in another big problem with the Corps.
She sighed, eyes narrowing in exhaustion that was increasingly difficult to mask. A situation that, ironically, made the growing and confused anticipation in her irises shine all the more.
So… it may all converge at the facility, huh? In just a little while, Vagrant... heh, 'Knight' Nemesis, whoever is behind the mask…
As naturally as the rising sun, and passing by her perception in the same manner, Tatyana’s lips curved into an excited smirk. Without losing sight of her actual goal, the thrill of the situation was undeniable.
