Thanks for your patience! I am 3.5 days post-op and feeling good! Here, have a chapter in celebration!
Enjoy!
Chapter Thirty-Four: Where Mountains are Found and Bridges Burn
Seychelles was tired.
She had been at this for what seemed liked hours now and wanted nothing more than to collapse into bed with Francis and sleep away the day.
Unfortunately, she did not have that option, not after the attack. Not when she had the man responsible, a Talentborn shapeshifter, restrained in front of her and information they desperately needed to obtain before pushing forward to Ruthenia. She stared down at the man who had attacked them, still covered in the black blood he had been covered in after Arthur had used his Talent to force the shift but with an old pair of pants thrown on now, tied to a poll in the makeshift infirmary tent they had set up after the attack.
With them in the tent was Yao, shoulder mangled but mostly stable after Kiku worked on him for hours, and Esther, passed out and arm resting in a smelly paste Kiku had made for her. Gilbert and Alfred had left hours ago, needing nothing more than a quick salve and bandage wrap for their injuries. Seychelles had been here the whole time, ever since Sadiq and Alejandro had dumped their attacker in here all the way up until a few moments ago when Kiku checked him over to make sure he had no life-threatening injuries from the forced shift. He had been conscious for most of his captivity but was not speaking any language she or the crew recognized.
She had been captain of her own ship, and sailing aboard others, long enough that she had experience with questioning prisoners. Before Ivan, it had mostly been pirates or brigands who tangled with her and her crew, but they had captured believed spies or accomplices of Ivan since then. Not that they typically got much out of these captives in the past, even when some of her crew added violence to the proceedings, but there was a different need here. They could not afford to not discover what this man was doing here and who he was. This close to Ivan, they needed to know if he knew they were coming—the element of surprise was crucial to any success they might achieve.
But here she still was, several hours after the attack, and this man had given her nothing. Not when she asked nicely, under the guise of cooperation, nor when she asked as she hit him across the face and broken a few of his fingers. Nothing but frustration and the urge to punch him again, this time with the brass knuckles she kept in her pack to get that smug, self-righteous look off his face. And worst of all, he knew it. He was staring at her now, eyes burning with zealot madness, mumbling what she was sure were obscenities behind the gag she had placed on him after breaking his pinky finger.
Seychelles had been battling internally for the last hour with what she knew she needed to do, hoping that she would not need to, but it was looking less and less likely she would be able to get anything out of this man through traditional means. Not in the short time they had to give the injured enough time to recover without worsening their condition before they made their final approach into Ruthenia. By morning, they would need to be off; and this man would need to be dead. Still, even though she knew it was their best option now, she didn't want to ask it of Arthur.
Not after seeing his shell-shocked face from forcing the shapeshifter through a violent and painful transformation.
"Seychelles-sama," Kiku said softly, his voice exhausted.
She turned to look at him and found the rest of him did not look much better. Ever since the attack, he had spent hours stabilizing Master Yao to keep him from bleeding out from where their attacked had ripped violently into him. After he had done all he could to keep Yao from dying, he had immediately began making the different poultices and salves the injured would need to recover as quickly as possible. Gilbert and Alfred had been relatively easy, but Esther's sword arm had been practically shredded by the shapeshifter's teeth and required more potent remedies. That done, he had returned to Yao and placed the same paste all over Yao's shoulder and given him potions to help his body replenish the blood he had lost.
She understood why he was so haggard and was grateful that even despite all that, here he was, still standing and helping her. "Yes, Kiku?"
"It is possible this man does not know anything that would be of value," he posited quietly.
She smiled without humor at Kiku, knowing that he had the same reservations as she had about their remaining option. Kiku had grown as close to Arthur over the last eight or so months since Arthur had joined. They all had, the grumpy mute was easy to care for under the prickly exterior, but Kiku and he had developed a close bound while working on accessing his Talent. She knew Kiku worried about him and his increasingly pivotal role in their mission and he had seen what Seychelles had seen before Alfred had ushered him away.
As much as he and Master Yao tried to tell Arthur using his Voice on a person was the same as anything else, clearly, that was not the case emotionally.
"Possible, but unlikely. Or else he would have said something by now."
Kiku made a noncommittal sound and looked down. "I suppose."
"I don't like it anymore than you do, Kiku. But if he can make this man talk…" She trailed off, not sure what else to say. Or if it even mattered. "How's Master Yao doing?"
Kiku accepted the change in topic easily. "He will live. He is still unconscious, as I expect he will be through the night, but by tomorrow, I believe the paste should have repaired enough of the damage to at least transport him to the caravan. Esther should stay in the caravan for at least tomorrow, but the bite was not as severe as Yao-sama's injuries."
"That's good." She said no more and turned back to stare at the shapeshifter. They would be able to continue their journey tomorrow then—she let out a heavy breath and made her decision.
"Kiku, please go and ask Alfred if he and Arthur can come here."
"Seychelles-sama," Kiku hesitated.
"I won't force him if he truly does not want to, but I need to see if he will." The fact that she was not above convincing Arthur into using his Voice by telling him it would be the best thing to help them was left unspoken, but she knew Kiku knew she would do what she had to. Still, he nodded once and left the tent.
"All right, cretin," she hissed at the shapeshifter, leaning in close and fixing him with a glare. "Last chance. Tell me what I need to know, and I won't have my crew member who force-shifted you force you to do anything else, savvy?"
She was not hopeful for a sudden change of heart but felt that she had to at least try for Arthur. When she received more mumbled vulgarities, she hardened her stance and pushed any emotion she had for the situation out of her mind. She waited patiently until she heard Kiku return, Alfred and Arthur in tow. Alfred looked mostly fine, white bandage stark against the golden skin of his upper arm, but Arthur looked drawn and pale. Still shaky. His green eyes though—they were bright and knowing when they looked from their attacker on the ground back to Seychelles. He knew why she had asked him to come here.
"What's up, Chelles?" Alfred asked, his hand tight around Arthur's and hovering close, protectively. "Kiku said you needed to see us?"
"Arthur, to be specific," Seychelles responded. Alfred's eyes narrowed at her and he put together the same blocks Arthur had. "I need his help to get this man to talk."
"No," Alfred responded, steel in his voice.
Seychelles honestly should have been more prepared for a fight from Alfred than Arthur on this. She should have tried to convince Kiku to get Alfred to hang back, and to send Arthur alone, but she was tired. And, honestly, that probably would not have worked anyway—the pair of them were glued at the hip after weeks of being forced apart.
"I wasn't actually asking you, Alfred," Seychelles responded, her voice taking on a forced calm.
"No, Chelles!" Alfred repeated, more forcefully. "You are not going to make him use his Voice on this guy! It's shitty and—"
"I wouldn't be asking if I had another choice, but he's been," she paused, trying to come up with the kindest way to say unmoved by torture, "resistant to my more extreme methods. I'm not asking Arthur to hurt him; I just want to get him to answer my questions."
"Yeah, by forcing—" Alfred started, but stopped and looked back at Arthur, who was speaking with him through the pendant. Seychelles had never bothered to learn how to read lips, so she was not entirely sure what the conversation consisted of as she was only hearing one side of it, but she felt she got enough of the gist to piece it together.
"No, it's not okay! I don't—it doesn't matter if—would you stop interrupting me?! I'm just saying that you don't have to do this, don't let her make you fell like…no of course not! You know I don't think that I just—for fucks sake, Arthur haven't we had this argument like a hundred times already?!"
Arthur leaned in close and responded, his hands making swift and tight gestures before taking Alfred's face in them and Alfred's face drooped from righteously angry to chastened and slightly apologetic. "Of course I do, I just—no, yeah I know. Okay."
That last word was practically whispered, and Alfred pressed his lips to the side of Arthur's head before placing a chaste one on his lips, catching Arthur's eyes again.
Gods, the way they looked at each other. Seychelles wished there was a way to bottle it up and sell that kind of devotion; she could make a killing in the Market selling it.
Alfred turned his head back to Seychelles, his face going instantly chillier, but he moved out from in front of Arthur and crossed his arms over his chest. "He said he'll do it. But he's not going to do anything that will hurt him—and I am not happy about this, for the record!"
"Noted," Seychelles said with a quick quirk of her lips. She focused on Arthur as he came up to stand beside her. His back was straight and shoulders in the same determined set as his face. He still looked like he would rather be doing anything else, be anywhere else, but his eyes were firm with conviction. She admired him more because of it. "Arthur, I only need you to get him to answer my questions honestly. Nothing else. Do you think you can do a command like that?"
Arthur looked down at the shapeshifter and then over to where Yao and Esther were resting, and then nodded his head. He motioned for Seychelles to remove his gag and cast his eyes downward as he thought about how to phrase the command correctly. Seychelles took out the gag and ignored the flow of unknown rage that spilled from their prisoner's lips. She did turn to Arthur and tacked on an addition to her request. "In Common, if possible."
Arthur nodded and stepped forward, looking at the man with eyes gone dark as the pine trees in the Nords. He held out his hand and said the command, what it was she could not tell, but that did not matter. What did matter was the rush of power she felt flow from Arthur out to the man and the way his eyes widened in fear-tinged resistance before glazing over to a placid, colorless grey. Arthur took in the man's state, at the vacant expression, before he schooled his expression back to one of neutrality. He waved Seychelles forward, silently indicating she should start. She guessed they would know shortly if he needed to do anything else with his Voice after she asked her questions.
"Right. What is your name?"
"Dmitri Grosu," the man replied.
"Ok, Dmitri, do you work for Ivan Braginski?"
"I do not work for him, I am part of his loyal followers, his true believers, who see the beauty and necessity of his Vision."
"Right…bit more than a yes or no answer."
She turned and looked at Arthur, who mouthed something that Alfred translated for her. "He said you asked for this guy to speak the truth, well, that is his truth. He's a crazy-ass fanatic, what did you expect? That last bit was me, not Arthur. He wants you to know that."
She huffed a laugh and turned back to Dmitri. "All right, you are a follower of Ivan then. Did he send you to us?"
"He tasked me to find you, follow you, and report back my findings," Dmitri uttered.
"And what were your findings?"
"That you were in the Byzantium, close to the border, and that the Siren was using his Talent." Dmitri paused and his eyes passed over to where Yao was asleep on his cot. "Also that his former teacher was with you and had betrayed him."
Seychelles gaze sharpened. "Yao was working with Ivan before?"
Dmitri shook his head. "No, his betrayal of Brother Ivan was of a personal nature. A teacher to a student. He travels with and helps you, his adversaries who are attempting to corrupt and stop his Vision."
Seychelles nodded, satisfied that Yao had not been actively working against them in the past, and changed direction. "Why did Ivan want to know if, ah, the Siren, was using his Talent?"
"Do not know, he did not share."
"Does Ivan know we are coming for him?"
"He knew before you knew, he just did not know where you were. Now he knows you are in Bulgar."
Fucking shite.
Seychelles rubbed at her temple and took a deep breath to keep her calm. The fact that Ivan not only knew they were heading his way but were in Bulgar was not great. She met all three men's looks before she turned back to Dmitri. "Is that why Ivan sent you to attack us?"
"No."
Seychelles narrowed her eyes. "Why did Ivan send you to attack us?"
"Not to attack you, or your paltry band of insolent defilers. I was to kill former Master Yao."
"Why?"
"Do not know, he did not share."
"If I may," Kiku interjected. "I cannot say for certain, but it is likely he wanted to remove Yao-sama as an ally. He is powerful, and knows more about Ivan than any do, save for his oldest acolytes at this point."
"Yeah, but then why single out Yao?" Alfred asked. "Why not tell this guy to take us all out?"
"Well, you heard him," Seychelles directed at Dmitri. "Why did Ivan not want you to kill us?"
"Not all, but some of you are important." Seychelles did her level best to not look at Arthur. "As Wolf, best to have single target for kill to limit accidents."
"Chelles?" Alfred spoke up, his eyes trained on Arthur who was mouthing something to him as he motioned to Kiku for something to write with. And paper. "Arthur is telling you to ask him about the layout of the fortress. If he can draw it."
"Can you draw a map of Ivan's home on Strobilus?" she asked.
"Yes."
Kiku handed parchment and a quill to Arthur who placed them in front of Dmitri and then Seychelles felt the rush of his Voice just as before. This time, Dmitri jerked forward, picked up the quill, and began sketching a detailed map on the paper, writing notes in the margins in Common and turning the page over to detail a different level. Once he had filled out both sides, he paused, still holding the quill. Arthur swallowed and got up to grab another sheet of parchment, places that down in front of Dmitri, and he continued sketching. He did not stop until he had completed the entire layout of Ivan's fortress between three sheets of paper. Arthur gathered the sheets and handed them to Seychelles, looking sick to his stomach. He gestured if there was anything else she needed.
"No, I think—I think that's everything, Arthur. Thank you, I know this was difficult."
Arthur nodded, turned and used his Voice one final time, and then hurried out of the tent without looking back. Alfred stared hard at her before following him. She turned back to Dmitri and saw the glassy gray-hue was gone from his eyes and he was struggling against his bonds, back to yelling filth, this time in his language and Common. She felt a swell of affection for Arthur, as she realized he had released Dmitri from his commands with that final use of his Talent. Giving him his last moments as himself, and not a compliant doll.
"Thank you, for the information, Dmitri. It will be most helpful." She said unkindly. She handed the layouts to Kiku and grabbed her sword from its sheath by the tent entrance. "Any last words?"
"Brother Ivan will destroy you all!"
"I doubt it," she returned, and slashed forward with her sword.
Alfred was pissed.
He was pissed at that stupid wolf-shifter for attacking them. He was pissed at fucking Braginski for still being a thousand steps ahead of them. He was pissed at Seychelles for convincing Arthur to use his Voice on that stupid shifter, again. And, most of all, he was pissed at himself for not knowing what to say to Arthur now. For not knowing what would best help him or reassure him. For what to say.
Alfred followed Arthur after leaving Seychelles with the soon-to-be-deceased spy. He had followed him past their tent, out of their camp, and to a rock bluff through some bushes where you got a clear view of the mountains along the border to Ruthenia, all twisted and mean looking. Arthur was staring out, arms clutched tight around himself, probably for more than just comfort against he cold, a million miles away and Alfred wanted to do nothing but get that awful, haunted look off his face.
"That was such bullshit!"
Alfred.
"No, she shouldn't have had you do that."
Arthur sighed, but kept himself still as Alfred sidled up next to him. We already discussed this, Alfred. She was right and you know it. He—Ivan's spy gave us valuable information. There was no way he would have done that willingly; he was too devoted to him and his 'vision' or whatever rot Ivan sells.
"Yeah, but—" Alfred started and then broke off, unsure how to word what he wanted to say. He did NOT want to offend Arthur's pride or whatever by saying something that got them all down that stupid 'I'm not weak' and 'I'm allowed to worry' song and dance they did. But he also just wanted to say what he really thought, what he felt in that tent, watching Arthur force the wolf shifter to answer questions and draw the blueprint for them. Watching how much it bothered him. In the end, he didn't care if it started a fight; Alfred wasn't going to lie. "I know how much using your Talent that way bothers you, and I hate it."
Arthur did turn to look at him then. His face didn't look mad or annoyed, which was a good sign. His eyes were soft and bright, the green in them even more pronounced in the muted colors of the skyline. And I am grateful for that, Alfred. So much. But—but by discomfort with this…side of my Voice does not matter. I can deal with it.
"But you shouldn't have to!"
Arthur quirked a small smile at him then, but it still wasn't what Alfred wanted to see. It was sad and pitying. Love, like it or not, my Voice it, it's what all signs point to as our best bet against Ivan. Against stopping him and whatever mucking about he's doing with the Balance and in returning all he's stolen. He's not going to just go along quietly.
Alfred huffed, but didn't respond, crossing his own arms moodily now. He knew that, of course he knew that but—it had seemed different, in his head, thinking about Arthur swooping in with the rest of them and beating Braginski and to save the day. But so had fighting in his first real battle and killing someone—reality was always messier than daydreams. "It's still shitty that you have to deal with it, though."
Yes, I suppose so, Arthur agreed, after a pause. It had never occurred to me to use my Voice this way growing up; I was too concerned about being discovered and—until that mob, I had not thought to use it on a person.
"Well, you're a good person, Artie," Alfred said, lips turning up as he sought to cheer Arthur up some with a joke. "Of course you didn't think to use it to become an evil overlord of your town. Though, they were pretty awful to you, so maybe that would have been an improvement."
Arthur frowned and shook his head. No, I—I'm not though. It—using it before, when that, shifter? When he was attacking us, using my Voice on him felt—it felt good, Alfred. Powerful.
Yeah, no, Alfred was not about to let Arthur spiral down that rabbit hole. "That doesn't make you a bad person, Artie. That just—makes you normal. Everyone wants to feel powerful, and I think whether you want to use that power to become a fucking crazy-ass, world-destroying, nutjob, like Braginski, or so you can protect yourself and who you love, that matters."
Maybe that was what Arthur really needed to hear, Alfred thought, as he drank in every word Alfred said and meant. He was still holding himself tight, but he was facing Alfred completely, leaning towards him, eyes bright but no longer so anxious. Alfred smiled at him and reached for him then, pulling Arthur into his arms and wrapping him up close. "Even when those people were chasing us with pitchforks and were going to behead you, you still didn't use your Voice to hurt them. Sure, maybe you can do bad stuff with your Talent, and maybe you'll have to in order to beat Braginski, just like we all have had to do shitty things, but that doesn't mean you're a bad guy, Arthur. I don't think you could be, even if you tried."
Alfred could feel Arthur let out a shuddering breath between them, the vibrations from his body and exhale filling what little space was still between them before Arthur finally unwound, slumping into Alfred completely.
It was…much easier than I thought it would be, Arthur said after a minute, his face still tucked away in Alfred's neck. Using my Voice on someone like that.
"Well, maybe us humans aren't as tough as trees and flowers," Alfred joked. He could hear Arthur's amused harrumph in his head. "Or, maybe that guy was just, I don't know, not as awesome as you. Yao and Kiku both said it's all about will, right? Maybe yours was just stronger."
Maybe.
That was not the most convincing response Alfred had heard, but when Arthur pulled back from Alfred, he looked better, lighter even. Not as troubled and unsure of himself. So, Alfred took that as a victory and linked his fingers together at the small of Arthur's back, giving Arthur the biggest grin he had before he planted a big, obnoxious kiss on his lips. Arthur flailed, as Alfred knew he would, and pushed Alfred away, trying to keep the smile off his face with a disapproving frown that Alfred could see through a mile away. He was so predictable.
Stop that, you wanker! Who do you think likes being slobbered all over?!
"Whatever, I kiss good!" Alfred proclaimed, leaning back a little to pull Arthur's feet off the ground, forcing Arthur to move his hands to Alfred's shoulders to steady himself. Man, being able to pick Arthur up was one of the best things about his strength basically being at full capacity. And for all that Arthur grumbled, Alfred could tell he liked it by the dusting of red that always covered his cheeks whenever Alfred manhandled him.
Still, he did have a mean right knee jab to the kidneys, so Alfred put him back down when it looked like Arthur was getting annoyed with his teasing. He unwound his arms from around Arthur, but still offered out his hand to him to take. Arthur did. "Come on, let's head back."
Arthur nodded and let Alfred lead him back through the bushes and back to where the rest of the group was. Before the came back into view of everyone though, Arthur tugged on Alfred's hand and stopped him, pulling him back in close and kissing the question he could feel forming on his face. Alfred inhaled sharply and kissed him back, feeling that familiar lick of want course through him that always did whenever they kissed, but Arthur pulled back before Alfred could think to deepen the kiss, resting his forehead against Alfred's cheek before he looked up and met his eyes. Thank you.
Alfred didn't need him to say what he was thankful for, so he just lifted their linked hands and pressed a soft, loving kiss to Arthur; s fingers, letting him know he understood. "Anytime, honey."
The news of Eduard's death had swept through the compound like wildfire after Ivan's return. Most were praising his sacrifice as righteous and necessary for their Vision to come to pass and extolling his bravery for helping Ivan achieve greatness. The rest of them, the remaining few, were quiet and grieving, tearfully remembering him in their private time away from prying eyes. Missing him and crying for him where they would not be judged for doing so. However, Toris was not any of those things.
No, Toris was mad.
Mad was not a strong enough though. He was livid, incensed, full of a burning rage that made him want to scream.
He felt Eduard's absence like a missing limb, and he was outraged his life had been taken from them. From him and Raivis. Even from Asmin and Oksana. Eduard had been here nearly as long as Oksana had and they'd all grown to depend on his steady and resolute calm. When Toris had first been brought here by Ivan, it had been Eduard who had helped him, spoke to him, not let him slip into despair at being separated from Feliks and all his friends. Eduard, who had reached out the lifeline of friendship to him and forged something strong and unbreakable. Eduard, who had first given Toris hope that maybe they could stop Ivan and his plans.
Now he was dead; killed.
Murdered.
He was gone, the news given to him by Oksana's tearful admission earlier that day with breakfast. She had seemed so remorseful and lost, devastated by Eduard's death that she still could not quite believe it. Although she had said nothing about how it had happened, when she had left, Toris knew two things with absolute certainty.
The first, Ivan had killed Eduard for his betrayal and alliance with Matthew, the crew of the Evangeline and, by proxy, against his 'Vision'.
The second, that Eduard had known it was going to happen.
Maybe not when it did, maybe not how, but he had known. That was why he had risked everything to speak with Toris before going with Ivan to the Barrens. It was why he had made Toris promise to help the others, to get Matthew out and do whatever it took to do so. It was why their last conversation had felt so foreboding—it had been a goodbye, after all.
So, yes, Toris was mad (enraged, devastated, avenging), but he was also determined to keep his last promise to Eduard. So instead of raging the way he wanted to at Ivan, who was sitting across from him in his tiny cell, he swallowed all of that down and adopted his best 'terrified Toris' performance for Ivan. He knew he could not convince Ivan that he suddenly had a change of heart, that he 'believed' in his mission and was willing to follow him into death, just as 'dear Eduard'. No, but he could convince him that he was so terrified by Eduard's murder, by Ivan killing someone he purported to love due to his defiance, he would fall into line and obey to avoid the same fate.
It appeared to be working.
Toris had fallen to his knees from his cot the moment Ivan had entered, shaking and pale, channeling all his anger and grief into creating tears that spilled down his face while he blubbered out apologies and promises to be good and follow orders. He kept it up even when Ivan kneeled on the floor with him and wrapped him into an awkward embrace, Toris fighting every urge he had to kick and pull at those arms until the released him.
"It is, all right, Brother Toris, I have forgiven you." Ivan's voice was pitched low and slow, as if speaking to a spooked horse. "I know you are remorseful, and I know Brother Eduard's passing must be difficult for you. You were very close."
Toris steeled himself and shook his head. "I didn't—I didn't want to go along with him, but he said we had to and—I am so sorry, please don't—I'll do anything, Brother Ivan, anything just don't—"
"Shh,' Ivan hushed him. Toris hiccupped himself to silence, eyes red and body shaking as he tried to show Ivan that he was calming down and relieved from the comforting tone. "All I have ever wanted is those like me to see the good in what I am doing. Brother Toris, you have a true gift, given to you by the Balance, as I do, but the way it gives and takes, is not true balance. All I have ever wanted from you was you to understand that."
"I will, I do! I do understand. I'll do anything you want, please just—I'll do anything."
Ivan helped him up and grabbed one of the clothes Oksana had left for him to clean up with that morning, wiping at Toris' face the way a parent would do for a crying child. When he was done, Toris flicked his eyes up before dropping his gaze back down, deferential. Fearful. Small.
"I need all of you with me now Toris," Ivan said, resting his large hands on Toris' slumped shoulders. "We are on the precipice of changing the world for the better and we cannot fail."
And with that, Ivan let him out and guided him back to Oksana and Natalia, the latter of whom was staring balefully at him, leaving instructions that Toris was to be afforded all his prior privileges under their watch. And then he was gone, several of his most faithful like Kartlos, and Vladimir, Dragos and Natalia falling into step beside him as he issued out orders for their following. Toris was left with Oksana and shrugged off the hand she tried to place comfortingly on his shoulder.
"How is Raivis?" he asked. "Is he—he and Eduard were close."
"Yes, they were," Oksana whispered. "He is, he has not said much since he found out. Asmin has been staying with him."
"Good." Toris turned and met her watery eyes, his own red-rimmed from his crying earlier. "What about you? Eduard was like your little brother, right? Are you as happy as everyone else for his 'glorious sacrifice'?"
"I—" Oksana started crying and wiped at her eyes furiously, turning away from Toris' stare. "I will miss him. Please, I have work to do."
And with that, she hurried away, leaving Toris with nothing but time to think of what he could do to get to Matthew and be ready when his brother and the rest of the Evangeline crew showed up.
Over the next three days, Toris hung back in the shadows and watched as Ivan had his followers, Talentborn, magic-inclined, and normal alike, carrying every single stone containing magic and/or energy out of the fortress and through portals to the Barrens. He watched, peeling potatoes on kitchen duty as Ivan powered himself up with select abilities stolen through the years, centuries even. Gilbert Beilschmidt's hearing, Esther Ruth's speed, Alejandro Aravaco's firebreath, Matthew Jones' empathy, plus scores more from people he did not know or who were long gone. He typically limited the stolen Talents he used to no more than four or five at a time. But now, now he had at least twenty contained within him, Toris was pretty sure. He was preparing for battle, as were most of the followers still in their fortress.
For a week, Toris watched and waited, cowered around Natalia or any of her ilk, deferred to Ivan when he briefly saw him, and watched Oksana's patterns for taking food trays up to Matthew. On the eighth day, he knew it was time to act. Every single stone had been emptied out from the fortress and taken to the Barrens. Most of Ivan's Talented or magic-wielding followers were there too, save for Natalia, Oksana, and those too young to fight, like Raivis and Asmin. The whole castle was alight with tension that something was going to snap, to happen, and everything was coming to a head.
Toris waited until nightfall to creep out of his room and back down to the mess hall. He had watched Oksana exit out the eastern most exit for the past week and knew that Matthew was being kept in the detention halls down there, moved from his old cell after their 'rebellion'. He knew that was where he needed to start. When he got there, he first went into the kitchen and bundled together enough food to get him, Matthew, Raivis, and Asmin hopefully down the mountain and into Bulgar. He was hopeful they could forage in Bulgar to reach some sort of hamlet or town, or maybe Matthew knew how to hunt. It did not matter; they would cross that bridge when they came to it.
Just as he was making his way out of the kitchen and over to the eastern entrance, he spotted her. Oksana. Staring at him and the bundle of food he carried. Toris narrowed his eyes and wondered if he could, ah, stop Oksana if needed. He was a healer, violence was not in his nature, but he had a promise to Eduard to keep and nothing was going to stop him.
"Toris, what—"
"I'm leaving, Oksana. I'm leaving with Raivis and Asmin and I'm setting Matthew Jones free. If you—if you make me, I'll stop you too."
"But—"
"He killed Eduard, Oksana," Toris bit out. "Ivan killed him, and Eduard begged me to do whatever I needed to do for Ivan to let me out so I could get Matthew out of here. I'm not going to let him down."
"Eduard, he, he believed in what Brother Ivan is doing," Oksana trembled, sounding unsure in the lie she so desperately wanted to be true.
"Yes, once," Toris admitted. "But not for a long time, and you know that. Not when he saw what Iva was willing to do, who he was willing to crush and hurt. And now, he's dead because Ivan didn't see a use for him anymore, or he saw a use for him more horrifying than being locked away in a cage, to terrified to run."
Toris took a deep breath and squared his shoulders. "I am not going to argue with you, Oksana. I'm only going to say that if you loved Eduard the same as I did, then help me make sure I keep the promise I made him. Or stay out of my way long enough to leave, or, or else I'll…"
Toris trailed off, his threat sounding empty even to him. Really, he only had one option now, and that was hope Oksana looked the other way long enough to let him escape, because he did not think he would really be able to hurt her. It just wasn't in his nature. He turned and made his way towards the east entryway and only paused when she called out his name.
"He," she started, took a breath, and then continued with a steady voice. "He's in cell block D, second door on the right. The door locks from the outside so you'll be able to open it without a key."
Toris felt a swell of relief build in him. She was helping him. Oksana was actually helping him. "Th-thank you."
She nodded. "Is there, what else can I do?"
Toris debated fully trusting her but—Eduard had always told him to trust his gut when it came to people and it told him that Oksana was looking to help him, not trick him. "Can you get Raivis and Asmin? They trust you—I can meet you back here with Matthew before midnight."
"All right," she said. She turned to head towards where both kids were housed before she stopped, moonlight catching her face and showing the tear tracks down her cheeks. "I loved him too, Toris."
And with that, she was gone, her grief penetrating the hard bubble of anger Toris had surrounded himself in, and he had to choke down the heartache that threatened to overwhelm him. He did not have time for this, not right now—he could miss and cry over Eduard later. Toris did not linger any longer; he took off after Matthew. He found the cell block and followed Oksana's instructions, unlocking the door and opening it slowly, to try and limit the sound that echoed down the empty hallway.
"More nighttime chats, Ivan?" Toris heard Matthew ask acidly.
"No, more like nighttime escapes?" Toris asked, smiling grimly at the shocked look on Matthew's face as he practically leapt to his feet.
"How—Toris, what's—?"
"I don't have time to explain, here," Toris tossed Matthew a bundle of snow gear for him to put on. "We're leaving, tonight. Something is about to happen, I can—I feel it, and we need to get you and the kids out of here. I promised Eduard I would."
Matthew's face shuttered at the mention of Eduard, but he only nodded and put on the gear Toris brought him as fast as he could. Once ready, Toris moved so Matthew could squeeze out, shutting the cell door after him as slowly and quietly as possible. The, he gestured him to follow him, Matthew falling into quick and silent steps beside him. "Where are Raivis and Asmin?"
"Oksana is getting them; they'll meet us in the mess all and we'll make out way out the northern gate. That one is less busy, we'll have a better chance sneaking out unnoticed."
"Oksana?!"
"Yes, quiet!" Toris hissed. Matthew's face was incredulous and Toris could not blame him. He only knew a small piece of Oksana—he did not know the Oksana who had helped Eduard grow here from a teenager to a young man. "She—she's helping us escape. For Eduard."
Matthew weighed Toris' words before he nodded. Together, they both stole through the fortress and back to the mess hall, silent as mice in the moonlight.
Transition chapters are always such a pain in the butt. But! Oksana does have a conscious!
Next update - Tomorrow 6/19/2021