A Wannabe Hero In Another World!

Chapter 8: A Face Not Forgotten

oOo

A pale wood elf bursts through the brush but trips on an unseen root, his ancestors must be looking down in shame at what has become of their descendants. The elf's tries to push off the ground and return to running but a thin knife slices through the air and stabs into his right shoulder, his arm spasms before giving out and sending him crashing back into the dirt. His whimpering is short lived as a grunt forces its way up his throat when a boot plants itself on the small of his back.

"You shouldn't have run. Now, if you have any self preservation at all you'll tell me where the kid went." Elanor asks, grinding her heel into his back a bit in an attempt to persuade him to give up the location of Izuku.

"Ah! Ah! I-I don't know!"

She frowns at his cries of denial, "You're really going to lay there and tell me that after he made it possible for you to escape that you just all split off and didn't even consider sticking with the kid who can summon a nearly two story tall spirit?"

The man beneath her squirms and tries to wiggle himself free but she presses her foot down harder and he cries at the increased pressure on his spine.

"We—ugh! We just wanted to escape! If we stuck together like that—"

The pressure on his back vanishes but before long a new pressure appears as her foot smashes on the back of his head and forces his teeth to bite through his tongue. The blood pools in his mouth and spills past his teeth and lips, he rolls back and forth, tears falling from down his face as his hands cover his mouth as though he were attempting to hold back the blood flowing past his fingertips.

"You're the worst kind of people. No ambition, no loyalty or resolve, not even a crumb of strength. Freedom is wasted on you." She says, leaving the man to bleed out.

Her head craned u pro look at the sky, her hand covering the sun a bit. She'd been gone nearly three days and much to her mounting irritation she had picked the wrong path to follow. She had noticed many overlapping footprints, which only made sense given how many had rushed to escape when the opportunity presented itself, a set of deep prints near the wall matched the size of someone that age and height but they were too heavy set to be the lanky boy described to her when she asked the remaining servants who hadn't fled about the kid. It seemed the tracks she had followed were the wrong ones however and now she was far from home base, with waning supplies, and no leads. Frowning at the situation she crouched down and drew a small circle in the dirt before biting into her thumb, the ripped skin let her drip a few drops of her blood onto the ground in the center of her drawing. The world around her grew pale and out of focus until it eventually resembled an endless black void, her body felt cold to its core and a tightness gripped her chest with such force it threatened to crush her blood pumping organ if this lasted a second longer— it wouldn't, but the feeling that it would was a constant in this state regardless— eventually it appeared, a blue dotted trail winding its way far into the distance of the black void, heaviest in one location before fading out completely shortly after.

When her eyes opened again her blue eyes shined yellow as the sclera returned to white as a deep red faded from it. Her lungs were burning and the sun was on its way down. She should give thanks to the Seven Stars that no predators or unsavory types had come across her while she was in that state. Slowly she forced her legs to carry her in the direction of her quarry, hopefully she'd find a trail that wouldn't require her to use her tracker's blessing when she arrived or else she may just have to call it quits on the hunt…

oOo

The trio trudged along a worn path through the forest, the slowly clearing skies above having provided a chance to move on from their encamped position. The progress was slow and the atmosphere surrounding them was tense. Izuku was heading their little group with a stern frown on his face, before they had embarked a few words were exchanged. First he had suggested they head back west away from Aurelius, believing they could just let all this fall away. Surprisingly Ariadne hadn't been opposed to this idea but Sayuri had raised no shortage of opposition to this plan. When she went on to explain that the King of the West was after him he was dumbfounded. Ariadne then suggested they head for the eastern coast and take a ship to new lands if all they wanted was to flee, Sayuri again was the one to voice objections. Claiming that even if there wasn't a lockdown on the oceans then the pirates and sea fairing Children of Ymir would likely be their fate.

Finally after several seconds of not discussing anything Izuku suggested they simply head out, find a small village, and get themselves stable with shelter and some proper clothing. Somehow Sayuri still managed to find issues with this and as a result the mixture of exhaustion, irritation, and everything that's happened over the last twenty-four hours mixed together to cause Izuku to simply shut down and head out, uncaring of whether the two follow along or not.

And all of that led to them following the worn path of the forest that suggested foot and cart traffic along this route, it was the only thing Izuku was willing to follow as when Sayuri finally decided to voice an opinion it had involved assaulting the freshly captured estate that Aurelius had taken. The mere thought alone was enough to further spoil Izuku's mood, never mind what actually attempting such a stunt might do to their well being, he was at least thankful that Ariadne was against such an action. Even if she had implied it was only a matter of time until action would become necessary. But the group didn't have to think about that statement or what it entailed for long as they came across a man that was large at the waist with bright blonde hair. The fellow was human, at least judging by his ears and lack of trinkets denoting different ancestry, and the cuss words that spilled from his mouth as he damned the fallen wagon wheel fell more in line with common human terms.

Izuku had approached the man who became startled by the shirtless boy but was quickly placated by the offering of help, after a short stint of lifting a wagon and setting a wheel back on before pounding it with a wooden mallet to keep it from slipping again the man was overjoyed and more than mollified. So happy was the man— whom the group had come to know as Buell— that he offered Izuku and his small company a place to rest their heads in his barn if the boy was willing to lend a hand to complete a task or two around the ranch. The rest of the journey found Izuku forcing down his guilt as he fed the man a false story of them being travelers who have had a rough patch the last few months and have given up their hopes of making a homestead out in the wilderness. Buell seemed either too willing to accept the story or too gullible to find the holes in it as he nodded along and hummed at appropriate moments in the web the green haired boy spun.

Thankfully by day's end they arrived in a modest hamlet and the trio were shown their lodgings. Izuku and Sayuri had little difficulty finding sleep atop the bed of hay they were provided but their once royal companion spent the entire night grumbling about the injustice of this and how she'd never live this embarrassment down.

It was while he laid on his back, eyes looking at the grain of the planks that comprised the barn ceiling, that he was left to fully come to terms with what was happening. Not for the first time things seemed to get worse, this place, the people, and the circumstances that weighed on him. A few months ago he may have rolled over and cried about it, unsure of what he could do or if he even had the means to do anything. If there was one solitary good thing about this world— now that Mariana was gone— was the fact that he wasn't powerless. The undeniable truth that he had a means to accomplish something. Means, and maybe even resolve.

"Why is the King of the West after me?" Izuku asked into the darkness, the shuffling coming from Ariadne trying to get comfortable stilling at the sound of his voice.

"I haven't a clue what the conqueror could desire from a Maggot like yourself," Sayuri replied, her back to him as she settled a little more into the hay bundle.

Taking a deep breath at the dig he let the lack of information file itself away as just another thing he'd have to figure out. But the priorities at the moment didn't give him many options on ways to go about finding answers. When he lined up all his troubles, he figured once he got clothes and money squared away the rest would work themselves out. Whether this was actually his intent or just a way for him to ignore the problem for a little bit was left undecided in his mind as he drifted off to sleep.

oOo

The sun glints off the menacing metallic gray edge of the axe blade, a swoosh is heard as it cuts apart the air before a deep thick sound resonates along with a splintering crack as the sharpened wedge of steel splits its fortieth log of the day. The two ends fall apart off the cutting block and a round of clapping reaches the ears of the boy who turns his head to the clapping.

"Midoriya my boy you're a marvel!" The portly blonde man who owns the small ranch says walking up to him, a small pouch in hand along with a pale brown piece of fabric.

Izuku laughs at the praise and scratches the back of his head, "I wouldn't go that far," he laughs it off and tries to downplay his work but the man will hear none of it as he harrumphs at the remark, "Nonsense!" He bellows, "If I had two more like you I could likely open a wood mill and be well on my way to retirement!"

The pair laugh at the statement, Izuku hasn't known Buell for long but the kind old man has proven himself to be a good spirited type of person. Besides giving them housing in exchange for help on his ranch, a meal twice a day, he'd even gone so far as to secure work for Ariadne and Sayuri at the local tavern… the work had agreed with Sayuri well enough but it became apparent that Ariadne wasn't cut out off the waiting work and was quickly taken into the kitchens where she surprised everyone, mostly just Izuku and Sayuri, by showing competence in cooking. While she was no blade master she could peel and dice with enough skill to appease the tavern's modest chef.

"That's really nice of you to say Mister Buell, but really it's not so hard. I used to do this kind of thing all the time. It's… almost nice to return to form," Izuku once again laughs the statement off but it does him well to wield an axe once more and to think back on those days, if not for how they happened than for what was happening during them. It may have been half a week but he still couldn't stop thinking about the departed. Maybe he was simply trying too hard to let it go and move on, he knew from his old world that these types of things could take time.

"Were you married before, Midoriya?" Buell suddenly inquires, taking a seat on the cutting block not paying any mind to the wooden chips on it.

A melancholic smile begins to form as Izuku resists looking off into the distance where he would do doubt fall into reminiscing, "Not married, no. But we cared for each other a lot,"

Buell turns his head to look past the vast space where his cattle currently graze and toward the humble home atop a gentle incline in the distance. Izuku thought himself fortunate to have met such kind people like Buell and his wife Saiki, who was also the first dwarf Izuku had met in this new world. The kindness that these two displayed made Izuku wonder what his life in this world would have been like if he'd fallen into their lives instead of that boat all those months ago.

"You're a strong boy. I'm not sure I'd have that same strength to keep going without Saiki." That leaves the magic wielding other worlder without response. In truth he himself doesn't feel he has the strength, more so he's simply pursuing an obligation. Buell seems able to tell what thoughts are filling Izuku's mind so he speaks up again, "Since we've met you've been hard at work. Helping with the cart, cutting wood, hauling hay, cleaning stables. You've drowned yourself in work, each and every task we send your way plus more, and when you do your eyes take on this dim look. As though you cease to be present."

Izuku would've argued this but he simply could not. It was true, the morning following their first night he rose with the sun and met Buell at his door and was put to work, and he worked from that moment straight till the sun set that evening, he'd been so engrossed in the tasks given to him that he'd failed to take note of Sayuri informing him of her and Ariadne finding work thanks to Buell until they met back up during dinner in fresh attire provided by Saiki, whom he also met for the first time during dinner despite her attempts to call him in for a midday meal. Lips peel apart and a mouth hangs open as if to explain but not a single sound escapes the boy.

"I don't know what those two girls are to you, nor do I have a clue what life holds in store for you. But this path you walk can lead only to destruction, so take a break, go into town maybe. Here's your pay and a fresh shirt Saiki found… too small for me!" He finishes off by handing over the pouch and brown shirt before walking off with what sounds like forced laughter.

'A break…' The idea sounds nice enough, gives his tired hands and joints a rest and explore the town he's found himself in. But Buell's words won't seem to stop bouncing around his head. What Sayuri and Ariadne mean to him, where the path he's following will lead, clueless as to what life will throw at him next.

He steps away from the axe, faltering every other half step before making it to the nearest tree where he lets his shoulder bump against it. His eyes hurt a bit, and the pit of his stomach feels like it's full of rocks. Teeth press against each other so hard they could crack and nails are only kept from puncturing the palm of his hand by the thick fabric of the shirt. It takes several deep breaths before all that feeling is pulled together and pushed deep down and away from the forefront of his mind.

Before Izuku even fully realizes what he's done, he has the fresh shirt pulled over his head and his feet are taking him toward town, the sight of wagons moving through dirt streets and dozens of people going to and from in colorful clothing seem like a nice distraction. The part of his mind not Biggs down by everything even suggests stopping by the tavern to see Sayuri. Maybe he'll even have a drink!

oOo

Pants are a new concept for her, the pair she wears now feel too tight at the thighs and too loose around the ankles. The shirt she was given could've made a nice enough dress with a proper belt to tie at the waist to keep it from billowing too much, even though the hem only reaches halfway to her knees. The only familiar thing is the feeling of the ground directly against the bottom of her feet as she'd refused any and all footwear provided. The Maggot had even assisted her in arguing against them by stating that it was just the way she did things.

"Sayuri, the fellow at the corner tables ordered a fresh tonic," the bearded barkeep said as she stepped in front of him, his hands pouring a drink for a young man with red cheeks leaning against the bar.

Not seeing the need to verbally reply she grabbed the glass and moved toward the designated table. The man occupying said table seemed out of place in this establishment. His skin was a touch dark with parts of it burnt like one would expect from a sailor, his hair and beard were disheveled and could play the part of rats nest easily enough she reasoned. But the strangest thing to her was the peg leg.

His head turned a fraction to look at her, she had been leered at by a few of the rowdier clients but none had made any moves, but the look in his golden eyes held no lust but instead the discerning eye of a wary sort. His gaze didn't linger in her for long as he found the glass she was holding and pulled from his coat pocket a single copper penny. Her golden eyes meet his and they both look back at the penny, eventually he seems to catch her wordless meaning and goes to dig through his pocket, first the right, then the left, then he's patting his breast pockets and pulling his satchel up off the floor.

"Gah. Fuck!" He cusses and tosses the bag aside, hands scratching his cheek and she can see the flakes bounce off from it, "Don't 'spose you lot would open a tab up for me?"

Sayuri turns to look over her shoulder, the barkeep is polishing a glass and not giving her the time of day despite the outburst the client just made. The man had spent the better part of a morning and all of the afternoon sitting here sipping away at the brew, he'd even been kind enough to tip once or twice throughout it all. So despite the economic lessons instilled in her by her wise and magnanimous master she reached into the pocket of her trousers and produced a beaten up copper penny of her own.

"I'll cover the rest of this one but we don't open tabs for interlopers." She says taking his coin and setting the glass.

He nods his thanks and takes hold of the cup with both hands, his lips silent as they mouthed several words like he'd done with every drink he's had today.

The door swings open and Sayuri turns to look just as the bartender exclaims his greeting, surprise colors her features to see Izuku away from the ranch grounds. He'd been silent and reclusive since they'd arrived. Not that Sayuri minded at all really, her instructions were to keep the Maggot out of the hands of the king, him becoming a ranch hand seemed to solve that nicely, either the lot of them would remain here indefinitely until he died of old age, or once she was certain Elric was no longer after him she'd go on her way to…

"Sayuri!" The bartender shook her shoulder and she very nearly smashed his nose flat against his face because of the surprise, "go on and seat the young man would you,"

Although before she could say anything Izuku walked up to them and looked into her eyes, "You okay? You spaced out there."

"I am fine… would you like a table in the center or near the walls?" She said, tempering the basic instructions she was given on her first day.

"How much longer do you have before you're done for the day Sayuri?" Izuku asks her and to the bearded man with the apron on.

"Oh, are you friends…? I guess it wouldn't hurt anyone if you took a break, go on and enjoy some dinner Sayuri."

A kindness unexpected, while breaks were a common thing for her and the other workers— all five of them not counting the bartender himself, to be given time to rest along with a meal was—

"Your friend here can pay for the meal with that pouch on his hip that looks ladened with coins."

'Ah.' Sayuri hummed as she followed behind Izuku who didn't seem out off in the slightest, the table they were given was near the door with a window, a prime spot but they wouldn't see a full house until we'll after the sun fell below the horizon. The barkeep promised to send out bread and a copy of tonight's dinner options— soup and stew like every other night but the illusion had to be maintained— and left them to their business while he moved to fetch that. Sayuri looked across the table to see Izuku staring out the window. Not for the first time had the one time servant of Mabufa looked upon the green haired boy and wondered, 'Is this the same Maggot?' The looks were close enough, the physicality was a big difference of course. In their months apart the boy had become lean and muscular and scars now littered his skin, which she had taken note of firstly during their time spent hiding from the rain under a tree and then the night in the barn where his back was exposed to her.

"What are we going to do next?" He asked, his eyes staring out the dirty glass at the dirt road with traffic dying down as more people retreated to their homes or lingered at work yards to collect pay or finish small tasks.

Her frown was less sad or angry and more annoyed, "Firstly you'll look upon those with whom you speak."

She was surprised to see his quick blinking and slow turning head, one might imagine someone— especially a young boy— to grow enraged with an address like that, but he just seemed puzzled by it.

"Er, right. So, what's next for us?" He repeats his question. Sayuri however is left unsure, she has been asking herself this for some time now. Even before she'd met back up with him.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean how long do we stay here?"

"Have you some hidden sanctuary that I am unaware of? Or perhaps a magical ship that can sail through air to take us to lands undiscovered?"

"Haha." Izuku replies with half lidded eyes and a frown, "Guess you've taken over the role of jester then."

That word sends her back, to the streets where she thought him a fool trying to make insulting merry, or the many nights spent around a meager fire where he'd make light of the day with her while Mabufa finished her duties. She was about to give a rebuttal, or maybe she was going to reach out and claw his eyes out…

Fortunately for both the barkeep chose this moment to return with a small wooden bowl of steaming bread balls with butter brushed overtop and a small slip of paper with some scribblings. The bowl rested between them and paper was held out to Izuku.

"Are you literate or do I need to read this for you?" The bearded man asked. Izuku thanked him and took the paper, immediately asking for a cup of tea and a bowl of fish soup.

With the man gone Sayuri believes Izuku will turn back to examining the world beyond a pane of dirty glade but instead he fixes his stare entirely upon her, his eyes could rival emeralds with their rich green color and the the black slit that travels down each eye matches the intensity perfectly. A lesser person might even feel intimidated by having the undivided attention of such a stare on them. But Sayuri was anything but lesser.

"My last command from Mafuba was to keep you out of Elrics hands."

Izuku buns at her declaration, a part of him almost finds it funny how despite being masterless Sayuri seems more enslaved now than before. He knows how devoted the girl was to the late woman but he's grown tired of rolling over and letting others dictate things in regards to him and his lifestyle. He's just about to voice his distaste for her attitude when a loud screech of wood sounds out in the tavern. At first Izuku believes it to be someone purposefully dragging a chair leg to make the noise so he turns to fix them with a glare for being so disrespectful to others, but pauses when he sees instead it's potentially drunken man with a peg leg. Just as the feelings of guilt begin to well up the man looks up and their eyes connect. Time seems to work backwards as Izuku recalls falling through the air and crashing through the water's surface before being introduced to this man, a ship captain that goes by Bjorn.

The golden eyes of Bjorn don't hold recognition for Izuku, as though he couldn't be troubled to remember the boy that caused him to face off against one of the kings assassins, the alcohol probably isn't helping his memory, but his golden eyes do hold recognition of the anger growing in the green eyes of the boy across the room from him.

An off pale hand, skin finally seeming to hold onto the tan from working beneath the sun instead of simply burning, covered in scars and missing the tip of the left pointer finger is raised with the palm directed at him, a loud threat from anyone even mildly adept in offensive magic. The fact that a spell could be blasted at him at any moment now seemed to have a slight sobering effect on him as he slowly stood and pointed two fingers at the green haired teen.

"Put your hand down kid. While I'm still too drunk to care about your threat."

"You're a murderer!"

Sayuri looks between Izuku and the man who's drink she had covered, a frown steadily growing on her features. Not at the fact that this peg legged individual was apparently a killer, but instead that Izuku had decided his history with this person was worth ruining their quiet reprieve in this small village.

"Kid, I'm not half as drunk as I need to be to face down some avenger looking to take out the guy who off'ed their childhood friend or whoever it is you think I killed."

Izuku feels it when the blood in his veins seems to start pumping harder, rushing from the center of his chest down to his toes and back again, the spark of clarity in his mind. The same drive he'd felt a few days prior. After so long of feeling numb and lost to the world this was almost euphoric. But he wouldn't let the high take him completely, instead redoubling his efforts to remain in total control as he stared across the room at the man.

"You called them your friends, said you liked them… but you burnt him alive…" Izuku rattled off the beginning of this nightmare that has remained etched into his mind, repeating the things that his brain has forced him to relive during his uncommon night terrors, "…you sold me."

Bjorn was catching on when he mentioned burning alive and the ones he apparently killed being his friends. Considering he didn't have many of those left it was a short list to look at. When he thought about it, a few months shouldn't have been long enough for him to utterly forget what a mutant that fell from the sky should look like, it was perplexing enough to make him wonder if his advancing age was finally getting the better of his mind. Not that he had much of one to wear away, but that almost made the prospect worse.

"Right… the mutant kid—"

"AGI!" the loud decree of the magic words thrums out and fills the room with power for a split second before the ensuing explosion consumes the empty tables between them and sears the floorboards before threatening to envelop Bjorn in their fiery embrace.

"Zio!" The golden lightning sparks off his fingers before flying forward in a giant stream that splits the plume of flames, the two mythic powers collide and fight for dominance before exploding and sending them both flying off their feet.

Bjorn smashes against the wooden wall and down onto his booth where he crashes through the tables and splinters from the dent he left in the wall fall over him, Izuku was sent sailing back and crashed through the window before rolling across the porch of the tavern and rolling off onto the dirt ground. A dozen and more civilians ran around the corner to catch sight of what caused the ruckus.

A handful of fresh cuts littered Izuku's skin and a cut near the shoulder had split the seam of his shirt and caused the red that flowed in his veins to stain the brown fabric. When he turned to look inside Bjorn was barely getting up off the table. His hands curled into fist as he felt his heart hammering in his chest. In his previous world he'd heard of heros who relished a good fight, they were labeled dangerous menaces to society because of their "battle junkie" tendencies. But standing here having commenced a fight of this magnitude, he felt as though he understood. The power he wielded and the means that it presented to him. He had a responsibility, he and—

"Tomaranai Mori!" The personas name was invoked as the azure fire that illuminated the area wreathed the form of the ragged looking masked warrior, unlike before this time he sported two scabbards at his hip the hilts appear as they did before, constructed of intertwining roots, vines, and branches, but one blade had a blocky guard while the other has a tsuba style guard. In fact one is straight and the other curved. No one gets much chance to question this as the nearly two story summon draws the straight blade, a glistening blue steel jian that glints in the dying daylight, and readies to strike.

Before Izuku can direct the personification of his will and self to drive forward and skewer the evil that stands before him a cry comes from within the walls, another figure wreathed in blue flames has smashed up and past the ceiling of the tavern and stares at Tomaranai with blank white eyes, his bear pelt cloak billowing in the wind. A silence that doesn't last as the shimmering golden pinprick orbs set deep in the black void of Tomaranai's mask shrink as his body moves with a speed that evades normal perception. The singing steel cuts through the air like a bolt of lighting from heaven before the edge smashes against the raised forearm of Nestior. Both the persona and Izuku are surprised that not only did the blade not sever the arm but it seems to have even failed to cut at all, acting more like a thin club than a sharp sword.

"Ggrraaaaaaahhhhhh!" The pelt wearing persona roars, pushing the blade off of his arm before wrapping one arm around Tomaranai's neck and whipping him around to crash into the alley right beside the Tavern.

Dust, dirt and rocks fly up from the impact and wooden chunks with splinters fly every which way, the fur covered apparition pounded on its chest but as it moved to stomp over and continue pounding on its fellow manifestation a sandaled foot flew out and struck its chest which sent Nestior into the air and flying back to crash into the building across the street. The bandaged hand of Izuku's persona reached up and grabbed onto the roof of the neighboring building with enough force for the fingers to sink into the wood as he pulled himself up, once perfectly spherical orbs of yellow now resembling roaring golden flames in his dark eye sockets.

This matches Izuku perfectly in this moment, there were no smooth circular thoughts that worked around an issue in his mind at the moment, only the raging desire of battle! Rage, desire, and confrontation were the only things roaring within the skull of the boy from another world. His feet moves slowly as he stepped past the swinging doors into the tavern to glare at the scene, the ceiling had mostly been pushed out by the summon of Nestior but many beams and planks had fallen inward, maybe tables were smashed and much of the bar was covered in broken glass and spirits from the busted liquor bottles. But there in the corner he saw him. Bjorn was propped up against a wall with a blank expression on his face.

Izuku expected the familiar rage he'd often see from Katsuki, or maybe he'd see despair shadow this man's countenance, really he was prepared for dozens of sights when he came to confront this man, but seeing that resigned stare that fought not out of a sense of preservation or want, but out of sheer instinct. It had the paradoxical effect of snuffing his anger out some while doubling the growing rage he had. His fingers curled as steam began to rise off his palm as the moisture in the air grew hot from his channeled spirit but before he could pull his hand back and throw it forward to envelop him in a blast of fire, in a tidal wave of heat so severe it would burn away not just the man, but ashes and continue to burn so hot it would sear the world around him.

A hard shove came from his left side and throws off his balance and concentration. His green eyes swing to the side so fast, intent to lash out at whatever dared to believe it could stand between him and justice, freezing when he finds Mariana standing there staring at him with horror across her face.

"What are you doing?!" A voice that would never match his beloved's tender tone sounds out and when he blinks the image of the blonde elf was gone and Sayuri stands before him, brows knitted and teeth bared for the world to see.

It feels like acid running down his throat when he swallows and his legs shake slightly, while they can't see it the ongoing fight outside comes to a very sudden stop as just when Nestior went to deliver a punch to Tomaranai's stomach the persona vanished in a blue haze.

Izuku takes a step back as he looks around, he sees the terrified expressions of the people and he's thankful to the Seven Stars that no one seems life threateningly hurt. Suddenly the drive he'd been feeling vanishes all at once and his steadfast determination to eradicate goes with it, leaving his stomach rolling and his legs unsteady.

"But…it made sense…" he muttered as he nearly fell back, he would've ended up on his rear If bit for Sayuri reaching out to set two steadying hands on his shoulders, one of Izuku's hands rest on her wrist while the other covers part of his face. Sayuri turns to see Bjorn struggle upright, one hand in the wall for support, the older man eyes the young boy for a moment, taking care to note the lack of exhaustion.

Before the man with the peg leg can either press this advantage or question the boy a whistling sound slices through the air And Izuku gasps as a throwing knife bites into his shoulder. Sayuri's steady grip fails to keep him up as he dives to the side to avoid any other blades, regardless of the fact none are coming. The dark haired shapeshifter and the once barbarian turn to the doors to find a dark elf lass staring at them.

"What a show. Don't suppose the Vandergraff girl is part of the second act?"

A bit of sweat runs down Bjorns face, suddenly regretting trying to fight the kid as what looks like another assassin has fallen into his lap, he turns to look at the boy and the girl who had stopped him from trying to blast him again. The kid seemed like a little spitfire to the old barbarian, and the way he was splitting his focus between Bjorn and Elanor only reinforced that idea.

"Who are you?" Sayuri asks, patting the dust off her dull red and brown uniform. Elanor doesn't remove her eyes from Izuku, even when the boy clutches the blade she threw into his shoulder and glares daggers at her. Sayuri sighs, "I asked you a question." She emphasizes this by crossing her arms and leveling the woman with a stare of her own, one that would often scare off many of the more enthusiastic locals who tried distracting her while she ran errands for Mabufa.

This time Elanor does look away, only for a quick glance, "No concern of yours so long as you don't interfere with my hu—investigation."

Sayuri gives a smug half smile as her hands fall to her hips, "Sounded like you were about to say hunt there. Unfortunately for both of us I can't let you have this one, be gone now."

Elanor sighs and sheathes the throwing knife she had ready to throw before slowly bringing her arms down, half turning as if to leave the tavern, only for her to quickly close both hands around a the blades at her waist and pull them free in the blink of an eye, the thudding sound of steps on weak boards fills the room as the distance between Sayuri and Elanor shrinks to nothing. Both daggers are high over head as the woman's whole body twist to pack as much umph into the strike as possible, in an instant violet smoke pours from the pores on Sayuri's hands as she raises both her mitts.

A clang is heard along with the sound of sizzling. The dark haired woman hisses and recoils as the smoke dissipates and her hands return to normal-- not at her command-- shallow cuts run in a straight line across every finger. Her angry eyes quickly force themselves back up just in time to see her attacker rushing in. She feels every muscle tighten as she commands her body to move but she's too late, the blades will meet her as she dodges right, teeth gritted she prepared to take the stab and maneuver close to gouge out her eyes, all the while ignoring what property of her weapon disregarded her kinds natural resistance. Surprisingly however two hands locked around her ankle and pulled with more force than she was prepared for which caused her to fall to the left and miss the blades entirely.

Elanor's slice cuts nothing but air, and Sayuri has to live with the realization that Izuku just assisted her, maybe even saved her. The dark elf girl spins on her heel, completely ignoring Bjorn who Is Just watching the spectacle, and completes her turn to find an open palm leveled at her, common sense dictates after the appearance of an apparition and the effect of her blades one shouldn't be able to channel the mythic power of the spirits. But all that seems to mean nothing to Izuku who grits his teeth and forces the power to bend to his will with the invoking of the spell's name. It isn't as hot as one might first expect but it packs much more concusive force than Elanor was expecting. The air evaporated from her lungs, her lower ribs are either cracked or outright broken, the ground no longer has a place beneath her feet as she sails backwards through the air, all the while spit and blood spill past her lips in equal parts, somehow despite all this Elanor has a single thought in her head.

'That's the weirdest Agi I've ever seen.'

Bjorn doesn't stare bug eyed, but he does carefully keep watch as the boy pulls his hand back and tightens it around the grip of the knife. A hissing breath rushes past his teeth and he grips the blade harder and before anyone can say anything he yanks it free from his arm. His shaking eyes calm themselves and the feral look they held for a moment passes as he levels a look on Sayuri.

"Can you wrap this for me so we can get out of here?"

Sayuri reachers for her shirt and pulls it up before ripping it, exposing her middle but keeping some modesty as she steps forward and binds the wound, for a long while she's quiet but it seems she has no desire to keep her criticisms to herself.

"That was foolish."

"The part where I grabbed your ankle or the one where I blasted her in the stomach instead of aiming for her head?" Izuku inquires in a tone layered in sarcasm and disregard as he let's her tightly wrap his arm.

"The one where you let past history not only blow our cover as humble travelers but also draws in a dark elf huntress. I repeat myself, it was foolish."

Izuku's features don't grow dark and stormy nor does he shrink in on himself and become apologetic, he simply can't do either of those things as the numbness from before returns to plague him. He looks at Bjorn, taking him in again since he'd first seen him just minutes before. The wooden leg was new, he looks more plump than their first meeting— if only by a bit—, and the exhaustion in the man's eyes speaks volumes of his quality of life in recent times. All of this makes the boy frown, the man should be half a continent away lazing on a boat deck out in the ocean. Not here in elf territory look pitiful enough to make Izuku reconsider his earlier judgment.

"Are you following me?"

Bjorn raises a brow, "What?"

Izuku grunts as the final knot is tied and the fabric, already stained through with his blood, bites into the wound. He silently prays for no infection, "Have you been following me?"

This time Bjorn scoffs and gives Izuku a mean glare, "The World doesn't revolve around you boy, I have my own reasons for being here."

Izuku sets his jaw and swallows down his opposing judgment and building hatred, "Then leave, get out of here…" It makes Izuku want to recoil, The though that he's letting a murderer walk free.

Bjorn doesn't scoff or argue but he doesn't take the out either. The exhaustion from the last few months seems heavier today than it has in any of the time leading to this confrontation. His golden eyes stare at the boy, it's true that the kid was ready to send a blast of fire his way not long before that dark elf showed up but something kept insisting that something would happen or some clever trick of his would keep the flames at bay. But that same line of thinking felt like the sort of thing led him to be in this situation in the first place.

"I think Elric is lookin' for you," he offers after moment, looking to find Izuku and Sayuri had gotten up and began moving toward the kitchens, stopping when they heard him speak up.

Izuku looks over his shoulder at him, "What makes you think that?"

"He sicked one of his mad dogs on me. That's how I got this," Bjorn says while gesturing to his now wooden leg, "I'm going to find Mabufa, and then with her help—"

"You'll find no one." Sayuri cuts him off, her gaze a thousand miles away from here as she thinks back to the night she abandoned her master to face that dog lord's servant on her own, the command felt so bare and lacking compared to how detailed her orders once were. Sayuri held no doubts that if Elric left his capital and embarked on a manhunt himself that Izuku would inevitably fall into the hands of the king and she would fail her master's final command.

Bjorn doesn't bristle at the state of the girl or tone of the words. Where someone else might bark back some crude words implying ignorance he knew the hidden pain etched deep into the soul of the girl who stood before him beside the boy. And seeing that took what little wind remained in his sails and left him to slump further against the wall. The feeling that it was coming to a close brought with it a strange mix of feelings, on one level he felt relief that the fight was finally about to be over. But just as much as that he felt angry that this was how it was going to happen and even worse the disgust he felt toward himself for these feelings made his blood boil. His breath spilled past his lips with the lingering stench of alcohol a large hand came up to scratch his face. He's been backed up to the wall before, left with improbable odds and still somehow pulled even a pyrrhic victory out of the depth of inevitable failure. But despite years of surviving he couldn't see an out without the help of that fabled old witch.

Just as Sayuri and Izuku are about to make their way into the kitchens to search for Ariadne the sound of the air freezing at their backs pulls at their attention. About six feet off the ground a halo of ice begins to form and mist cascades down from it to form a thin cloudy veil, slowly the muddled shape of a woman takes form. The crown of her head rests an inch below the ring of ice overhead and it appears as though her hair is long and wavy as it spills down her body. Even as a silhouette one can see the curves of her form and the grace with which she moves her arms up overhead. When the fingers reach the ring over her head instead of being black representations of her form everyone sees long slender milky white digits with perfectly maintained nails reach past the rim of the halo. The digits rest atop the rim and after a half second it shatters, and with it the haze dissipates.

Where once was the cloudy image now stands a woman in immaculate attire of a white gown with a royal blue sash around her waist, several bands of golden chain draped across her neck and shoulders and stings of pearls contrast her midnight black hair. Soft pink lips pucker as her amethyst colored eyes take in the sight of the girl standing beside Izuku.

"So you are all that remains of my sister, very well then. Come along then,"