Author's Note:

Many apologies for missing the upload last week! I've been caught up with midterms, and writing had to take a backseat to (unfortunately) more important things. We're back on schedule now, though, thanks for sticking with us :)

xxx

Chapter Eighteen

'I speak no riddle,' quoth the Moon. "But I do ask of you a favor. I must trade places with you, my friend, for I have need to spend a day underneath the beautiful sun's rays. In return, you will see further and wider than ever before.'

The eagle considered for some time, but he was intrigued by the clever moon's deal. 'I cannot refuse such an opportunity, oh mighty one. I accept your offer.'

Olympia,

The Southern Isles

August 12th, 1830

Hans stood perfectly still, eyes closed and hands to his sides. The subtle tones of nature proved cloying distractions as he tried to focus his hearing on the footsteps of his master. The young prince, not yet sixteen, had now spent a third of a year training with the grizzled veteran Dhurstrom Kess, and it was paying dividends.

His body, just months before the frail, awkward frame of a boy, had developed into the lean musculature of a man. His mind was sharper, his reflexes faster. Not only could he throw a punch, he could take one now, too.

But best of all was the impact Kess's mentoring had on Hans's anger. Before, it had threatened to consume him. It had pushed Hans to the edge, driving him to do foolish things and get himself hurt. He was angry because his father was abusive to his mother, angry because his brothers were abusive to him. He was angry because the silver spoon he was born with didn't make him any less powerless.

Hans was still angry, of course. He'd learned by now that the feeling was as much a part of him as the heart beating in his chest. But for the first time, he felt like he controlled it as much as it controlled him. In time, perhaps it wouldn't have any sway at all, any more.

Then again, a little anger just reminded Hans what was worth fighting for.

Hans heard a branch crackle some distance away, and his mind snapped back to attention. He felt embarrassed for letting his focus slip away. The noise certainly wouldn't have been Kess. The man was far too crafty to let his position be given away by a fallen branch. But Hans redoubled his efforts, straining his mortal hearing to its limits.

After a few moments, he felt a prickle on the back of his neck, and instinctively opened his eyes. Kess stood directly in front of him. Before Hans had time to react, his mentor rammed into him, getting his arms around Hans and throwing him to the ground. Hans squirmed against his mentor's viselike grip, winded and gasping for air. Already he'd bungled this; the young prince could think of a dozen different ways he could have fallen that would have helped him escape his mentor's grapple, but he'd been caught flat-footed.

Hans might have been getting better at this, but he had a long way to go yet.

The young prince desperately flailed his limbs even as Kess pinned him completely; in a few moments Hans couldn't move at all.

"I tap out," he said in a muffled voice, his face pressed into the dirt.

Immediately Kess released him and extended a hand, and Hans grasped it, letting himself be pulled up from the ground.

"That was fine, Hans," Kess said, clapping him on the shoulder. "Really. It's almost impossible to survive a fight that you start blind for more than a few seconds. At least you made me work for it."

"It was terrible," Hans said, brushing some dirt off of his clothing. "I should have given sideways, so that I didn't land on my back and wasn't immediately under you. Then I'd at least have had a chance to get you on your back. And no matter how we landed, I should have headbutted you. I wasn't thinking."

"Nobody's thinking in a struggle like that," Kess said, taking a few steps back and falling into a grappling stance, beckoning Hans to do the same. "After enough practice, however, you'll do it by instinct. That said, everything you said is true."

"So I'm not making progress," Hans said, following suit and beginning to pace sideways, keeping an eye on his mentor's feet as they slowly mimicked his movements.

Kess grunted, then came in for a strike, swinging his arms in from both directions to box Hans's ears. The young prince twisted both of his forearms upwards and caught the blows, wincing. It hurt, but he caught them nonetheless. He stepped forwards and now tried to headbutt Kess, but his mentor was ready for it. The older man stepped backwards lightly and raised his arms defensively.

"You aren't making progress as fast as you'd like," Kess said. "You're impatient."

Hans dove forwards and threw a series of three quick punches at his master, each of which were caught easily. Kess twisted inwards and placed a foot beside one of Hans's and then rammed a hand into the young prince's shoulder, throwing him to the ground. Hans immediately twisted as he rose to his feet, entangling his legs with his master's and sending Kess to the ground. Hans put some distance between them and took a few deep breaths.

"I'm ambitious," he said, rushing Kess again and launching into a series of alternating, precise blows.

Kess maneuvered expertly through the barrage, letting the unimportant hits land as he got close. The older man at last caught one of Hans's wrists and twisted it painfully, sending Hans to his knees. The young prince hissed, refusing to admit pain or defeat.

"You're reckless," Kess said. "Every time that I think you've gotten closer to mastering the darkness inside yourself, you prove yourself just as rash and impulsive as before."

Kess released Hans's wrist, and the boy drew it back towards his chest instinctively, refusing to cradle It even though it throbbed. He stood again and leveled his chin defiantly, refusing to feel chagrined. His master's words stung.

Kess sighed. "I don't want you to think that I'm telling you to be emotionless, Hans. That's not it. But wearing your heart on your sleeve is a dangerous thing to do. People who understand your motivations and your desires understand you. Best not to give anyone that sort of control."

"If I had… more control," Hans said slowly, "would I have heard you approaching earlier?"
"Perhaps," Kess replied. "Perhaps not." He clasped Hans's arm at the elbow, gripping it firmly. "We strive for control, Hans, for the sake of all parts of ourselves. Not merely the parts that fight."

Hans nodded, though he wasn't very satisfied with the answer. Kess, however, could tell.

"Never before I met you had I seen such a model soldier, Hans."

Hans smiled at the unexpected praise. "Thank you, sir."

"That wasn't a compliment," Kess growled. They began to walk, at Kess's indication, back through the little woodland. They were five minutes from the edge of the forest where they'd tethered their horses, and from their they were only a short ride from Olympia. "You, son, are the perfect caricature of everything a soldier is supposed to be. Young, capable, and eager for blood."

The older man cast a sidelong glance at Hans. "It's that last bit that worries me. War is hell, Hans. The first time that you have to take another man's life, it changes you. Everyone comes away damaged, but I just want to make sure that you crack in the right places."

"The right places?" Hans echoed, frowning.

"Someone like you can end up ruthless," Kess said quietly. "Someone like you can end up as a killer."

It was Hans's turn to cast a glance over at his mentor. "Sir?"

Kess had stopped walking and was now staring into the empty space before the horizon. After a few moments, he turned to Hans and it was like he saw him anew. Kess placed a hand on Hans's shoulder and smiled grimly.

"Don't lose everything, Hans."

xxx

Hans heard his own name through a dazed stupor. His mind was dredged from the depths of its own memory and his vision slowly focused on the forms of a pair of worried doctors leaning over him. Some time ago, they'd offered him a small wooden cylinder to bite on, for the pain. When he'd replied that he didn't need it, the doctors had regarded him with bemusement, but after it was clear that he was serious, they'd started their work.

Turns out, he'd been right. He didn't really feel a thing.

Kariena Tae leaned against the far wall of the hospital chamber, glancing back and forth between Hans, the window, and the door. She was alert, waiting for the slightest indication that the Cult of Entropy knew where they were. It was early in the morning on July 9th, just hours after Hans and Kariena had stormed Eveline McFay's apartment and found her murdered.

Kariena glanced over at one of the doctors as he turned towards her. She tried not to notice how bloody the man's gloves were. "We're going to be stitching some of these wounds shut now. If you get nauseous easily, you might want to step into the hallway beyond, ma'am."

Kariena silently shook her head, then turned back to the window. They were on the second floor of a four-story building that serviced some of the most damaged people in the city. It wouldn't take very long for Everdark's servants to find them here. Kariena was only just now beginning to wonder how many people she would be able to save if the Cult decided to just burn the hospital down.

Across the street, just below eye level, there was a gas lantern, lighting the roadway. It cast an eerily regular shadow against the building behind it, but Kariena kept expecting to see the shadow move. She kept thinking to herself that the shadow moving would be a signal of danger to come.

She was tired, of course. But she couldn't let herself leave Hans, and the doctors, and everyone else, really, go unprotected by letting herself doze off. Kariena hadn't much experience fighting against the kind of enemy to whom every life was expendable, and nothing was beyond the pale.

Some amount of time passed. Eventually, one of the doctors spoke to her again. "Alright. We've done everything that we can, for now. The best thing for him now is to let him rest until morning."

Kariena nodded, slowly.

They went on to explain that if she wanted stay with him, she could, and that if she did, she should squeeze water from a damp cloth into his mouth once every few hours to keep him hydrated. They tried to explain to her that it had something to do with blood regeneration, but she just nodded along. After a few more moments, they were gone.

Kariena crossed the distance to Hans's bed and sat down in the chair next to it. She'd thought he was unconscious, but once she did one of his eyes opened and turned to focus on her.

"I'm not a cripple, you know. I can take a goddamn drink of water on my own. Hell, my legs aren't even that bad, compared to the rest of my body. I could probably walk around."

He started to shift in his bed, and then slumped back down.

"Alright, look, I'm not going to do it just to prove a point, but let the record indicate that I was willing to, okay?"

Kariena smiled. "Gee, the only time you have a sense of humor is right after you lose half your blood, it seems. Maybe you should do this more often."

"Oh, let me tell you," Hans said, grimacing, "there's an exquisite sort of high that comes from running low on blood. You get this heady sensation that just makes you want to drift away. Really. Couldn't recommend it enough."

Kariena laughed lightly. "Alright, stop being a fool."

"I'm not sure that's as easy for me to do as you think, unfortunately," Hans said with a smirk. Then he gasped suddenly and prodded at his ribcage. "Seems I may have bruised up my ribs, as well. After enough times, I'd have thought they'd get tougher."

"Nah, you're a little bitch," Kariena said, brushing a bit of hair out of Hans's face. She ran the backs of her fingers along his chin, smiling softly. "Do you ever shave this beard?"

"Well," he replied, "When I was younger I used to keep mutton chops, if you can believe it. But I've found that the beard helps mask my ridiculously strong jawline. It helps make other men feel adequate."

Kariena laughed again. "Christ, Hans, this is an entirely different you. What happened Mr. Stoic Frownsalot?"

"Oh, he'll be back," Hans replied. "He's never too far away, really."

Kariena moved to sit on the side of the bed, looking down at Hans. The left side of his face was caked with dried blood.

"Well, I happen to like this Hans," she said as she reached over towards the basin, wet a cloth, and squeezed it out before patting the side of Hans's head with it. "Does this hurt?" She added softly.

He shook his head, indicating that she could continue. After a few moments of silence, he met her eyes. He was surprised to see something in them that he hadn't seen for nearly nine years. His words caught in his mouth for a beat.

"You're going to have to leave," he finally said.

"What are you talking about?" Kariena glanced away to the side.

"Before they come," Hans said. "There's going to be too many of them. You have to get out of here."

"Fine," Kariena said. "Then you'll be coming with me."

Hans frowned. "Look. I may have been putting on airs earlier when I described how easily I can move right now."

"You made it here alright," Kariena countered.

"You practically carried me here," Hans pointed out. "The kind of distance that you're going to need to put between yourself and this hospital is far greater than what you'd be able to make with me slung over your shoulder."

Hans could see that she was growing distressed, and he felt a pang of guilt. Then, he had a startling realization. For the first time since he'd been recalled to life by Hades almost one year ago, he felt the stakes. For the first time since he'd died the first time, he feared death once more. What had changed?

Maybe after all this time, he was starting to turn into a coward. Of course, that wouldn't be what Kess would have called it, but fighting scared was the kind of thing that got you killed in the first place.

"Look," Hans said. "They're not going to kill me. At least, not immediately. I'm valuable to them. I'm not telling you to abandon me. I'm telling you that we both stand a better chance if you don't get captured."

Kariena continued to stare at the floor. He knew that she could see reason, that she agreed with him. She took a long, ragged breath.

"You're right."

Hans felt a wave of relief. "Alright, now get the hell out of here."

Kariena mechanically nodded, and then turned towards him. "If they do kill you?"

"If they're planning on killing us, then I'm even happier that you got out of here before they showed up."

"But what about you?" She asked.

"I'll make sure to have stunning last words." He smirked.

Kariena laughed once, then set her jaw and nodded. She continued to meet his eyes for a few more moments before she turned away.

"Good luck," she said.

"Try and alert the safehouses, too," Hans said. "You never know how long the arm of the enemy is."

Kariena turned and raised a hand before stepping towards the wall and disappearing through it, leaving wisps of swirling arcane energy in her wake.

Hans sighed and leaned back against the pillow. Now all he had to do was wait, he supposed.

xxx

He heard the shouting first downstairs. Doorways banged, and people shouted. He hoped that he didn't hear exclamations of pain. He was surprised and unhappy to find that he had to fight to keep his breathing even.

Fear was for the weak.

… Fear was for those with something to lose.

He heard them reach the second floor, and he heard them begin their sweeps of the nearby chambers. Hans slowly pulled himself into a sitting position, but he didn't try to reach for his pistols, which sat unloaded on a nearby table. He would be a fool to think that he was better defended with a single gun than he was unarmed. The shouting drew near.

It was almost a relief when his door finally burst open.