Chapter thirteen - It was no ordinary beast

I wait outside of the infirmary double doors, crossing my arms over my chest as I watch Lorcan talking in hush tones with another Venator. Sana, the woman who I'd seen the day of the dragon attack at my village. The strain on her fair neck pops as she tries not to raise her voice, making me wonder why she looks mad.

"I'm going up to our quarters. Are you coming?" Freya asks, coming into range and blocking Lorcan and Sana out.

I blink, shaking my head. "Yeah, um, I'll be up soon."

She nods, half exhausted as she strides off. As soon as we returned, Freya looked sick to her stomach. According to her, she wasn't one to handle deaths, despite witnessing far too many throughout her youth. I suspected it had to do with her mother's passing when she was three years of age. Freya had only spoken of it once, but the dullness in her eyes when she explained it was more than enough to know it pains her, like any death of a parent would.

Straightening up and uncrossing my arms, Lorcan dismisses Sana. He walks over to me, stopping just a few inches away.

"How did it happen?" I ask. Why of all people, them? I wanted to say as if he'd have the answer.

"Most of us split up, heading into different sectors of the forest," he recalls, glancing down at the floor. "After a while, there were screams and—there was nothing we could do."

"Did you kill the Rumen?"

He shakes his head. "Disappeared before we arrived." To the herd of Rumens, I suppose. Just how bees had a queen, Rumens drifted back to their leaders.

My shoulders sink low from how stiff they were. No healer could save Adriel from the bite. It was only a waiting game now for the venom to seep into his system, rendering him blind after the first twelve hours. And then, slowly, all his organs would shut down. Oran's death was at least quick. He didn't have to suffer.

Lorcan is silent, as am I, for what feels like seconds, minutes, hours. My desire to tell him I'm glad he is okay replaces itself with stubbornness—stubbornness because of last night. And almost like he can sense what I'm thinking, he expels a long breath saying, "About yesterday, I'm—"

"I know," I say, too soft I can't recognize my voice or myself.

He stares hard enough that something inexplainable inside pulls at me, wondering what would have happened if I hadn't stopped that hand, his fingers touching me. I don't like that I'm thinking that. I don't want this feeling of need.

"Nara, I just—"

"Deputy," The General interrupts us. The oil-lit lamps flicker light onto his rich brown skin. "A word." His icy gaze frisks over me to Lorcan.

Lorcan ducks his head for a second, turning rigid before he looks at me and follows the General out of view.

I tip my chin up towards the ceiling and sigh. Freya would likely be asleep by now, exhausted from everything. Still, a reason I'd stayed waiting outside the infirmary is that I had the intention of going in to see Adriel.

As strange as it is, I'm ready for forgiveness. I don't have the urge to shout how it was their own doing even if they'd still done me wrong, tormented Link, and Solaris knows who else. I'm aware it could have happened to anyone else, me even if I'd gone in their place. Nonetheless, this is what we all signed up for. To be a Venator no matter the hardships, no matter the deaths.

Plucking up the courage, I turn to the double doors and enter into what bears cots of those ill, injured, and white linen curtain barriers between each one. I scan the beds and walk up to the end of the room, sliding the curtain. My stomach twists into a rope that I wince as I survey black blood oozing through bandages covering the middle section of Adriel as he lies there. Dragging my gaze up, four fresh deep cuts slice diagonally down his face like the claws of the Rumen attacked there first.

"Come to gloat in the hour of my death?" Adriel croaks. Nothing from his words sounds welcoming as he hisses air through his teeth, trying to sit up.

I nudge forward but keep my distance. "I've come to show mercy."

"Why?" His frown across his gaunt face is expected. "Shouldn't you despise me?"

"I do," I say, seeing no point in lying. If I was feeling kinder, I'd scrap his name off my enemy list too. "Except I've always been told to forgive even in times I wouldn't want to."

"I don't need your forgiveness."

"And I'm not asking you to take it," I say, harsher than I thought. Adriel looks away, unbothered, to which I huff out a breath and shake my head. "I forgive you, do with what you will on that."

I don't expect any type of reaction, so I turn and take my leave when his voice, the voice of a dying one, says my name. I glance back at his face, hollow and blanch. Terrified... he looks terrified.

"You should know... the Rumen that attacked us," he says, lowering his head. "It wasn't a normal one."

My breath tightens in my throat, not expecting that to come out from Adriel.

"It looked—" He coughs like blood is clogging his throat. "It looked like a dragon. It had the build of one, but its tail was thinner, and its eyes entirely black, but it's like it couldn't, see?"

Could it be... could it be the new breed?

I try my best to keep a blank face, but the words of the Golden Thief ring in my ears, "Is that what they're saying?" He'd flashed that confident smile saying it but thinking back, why would someone who everyone spoke of as the one creating this breed act like he didn't know of it himself?

"Why are you telling me this?" I whisper.

"Because one of these days, you might be the one lying in these beds nearing death," Adriel says, now looking at me that I can't help but stare at those gashes. "Or far worse." He lowers himself back down, resting his head to the side, intending not to speak further or for me to question more.

Every knot tightens inside me as I glance around at Venators who'd possibly come back from other missions. Was it dragons, rumens, or what attacked Oran and Adriel?

I take a few steps back, looking back to Adriel before quickening my pace out of the infirmary and closing the doors behind. Keeping hold of the handle, my eyes widen as I stare ahead, detached from everything.

"Nara?"

I glance to my left, where Lorcan is now looking at me. He's come back.

"Are you alright?" He inclines his head with a frown, the General nowhere to be seen. "You've gone awfully pale—"

"What do you know of the new breed?" The words rush out of me as I let go of the doorknob and face him.

My question at first startles him, then he lowers his brows. "Nara, that's not something we can discuss freely."

"Why not? Isn't it our job as trainees to know what is going on instead of hearing rumors from others?"

"It is something we are trying to figure out," he says with cold authority like he doesn't want to talk more of it. "Once you swear in as Venator—"

"If I swear in as Venator," I say. It's not that I don't think I can pass the trial. It's that Adriel's warning pulses through my mind, repeating it over and over. Or far worse, or far worse, or far worse...

Lorcan heaves a deep breath, rubbing that marred hand over his forehead, the mud still coating it. "Just don't worry over those rumors. Focus on training and passing that trial."

"But what if it's not—" I stop myself before I can say the Golden Thief, remembering how Lorcan didn't know I'd seen him and fought only to have him escape and steal either way.

"Look, I think you should get some rest," Lorcan says as I clamp my mouth shut. "It's been a long night." That wall is up again, scorching with fire that I can't touch or see through it. He makes a move past me that I spin without thought.

"Wait, Lorcan," I call out to him, but the minute he tilts to face me, I hesitate. I left the jewelers without the right mindset, and I was ready to tell Lorcan about how I'd tried to fight the Golden Thief then and there, but what difference would that have made? My agenda to catching him lies with Ivarron. The Venators have other plans. "Thank you for trying to get me out of patrolling," I say rather than what I was going to instead, but I still meant my gratitude.

He nods curtly as he resumes striding down the hall but not before halting and looking towards the left of him like he wants to turn back. I want him to turn. Foolishly, I do, and again, I must remind myself, I'm the one that stormed out of his chambers. I can't keep contradicting my thoughts all the time.

My eyes blink closed as I release a breath, hearing Lorcan's steps down the hallway, disappearing the further he walks.

***

Standing by the footing of my chest of drawers, I cradle a letter from my brothers in my hands. Days after Oran and Adriel's death, the arena fight had come round. Everyone in the barracks went on with their days, their training. A few others carved both names onto that stone pillar in the mess hall while I'd questioned each night if their deaths were fated or something more.

Snapping out of that, I gaze at the parchment paper, ripping it open. I'd not expected a letter so soon, compared to other trainees, but I know my brothers—Illias most of all—would have wanted to send me one straight away.

I hum a smile, focusing on the cursive words:

"Nara,

"As usual, Iker is the one writing this though I am the one telling him what to put down. If only you could see his face right now, it's priceless."

A soft chuckle departs from my lips, Illias had never learned how to write, but Iker was magnificent with pen and paper.

"Moving on, though... It's been a strange time here without you around, Idris yells at us more frequently, and I suppose it's his way of missing you. On the other hand, I've completed two paintings. One I gave to Miss Kiligra, which she threw away since she'd heard scary stories of paintings coming to life to attack you. And another to Ivarron after we'd failed at trapping a Terranos fairy.

Strangely, he asks about you, wondering when your return might be and frightening as always, Idris tends to hold back from pummeling him. I still curse you for getting involved with Ivarron, but I suppose I also thank him for strengthening you.

Nevertheless, we hope everything is going well there. It's nice telling everyone your sister is training to be a Venator just like father. And as Idris says, go chase that adventure you wanted Nara, you deserve it.

See you soon,

Illias, Iker, Idris."

I fold the letter, smiling as I hug it to my chest before placing it inside my drawers. Reading it had only emphasized how much I miss them. Ivarron, however, is the one person I do not miss. I know why he wondered when I'd be back because he was interested in the Golden Thief's blood more than me.

"Just to inform you, Nara—" Freya walks in, raising a hand. Her violet cloak matching the kirtle dress she's wearing. "—I am no fan of these arena fights, they make me queasy and nervous, but since it is your first time, I've agreed to come with you."

I pin my lips to stop myself from laughing at her clear annoyance. "You don't have—"

"Now, quick." She darts forward, looping her arm around mine and under my cloak. "We don't want the carriage waiting on us." And at that, she rushes us out of the room.