All it took was for his eyes to shut a moment too long and he had missed the opportunity to properly say goodbye to his fallen friend. They had already dug a modest grave for him, he learned from Irelia's brother a short while after he had awoken from falling asleep of exhaustion. Although he understood the necessity of giving the body a quick burial before its decay brought a stench into the house, Jax forever regretted the fact that he could not look upon the face of Karzak one last time. He supposed it was time to move onto his next ideal to pursue.
Vengeance.
Jax had given the matter a long time while he had lain there. When he had finally reached a satisfactory answer, he was originally appalled by his vindictiveness. Coming to the mercenary company, Jax realized how difficult the lifestyle would be, how if you couldn't come to terms with your own mortality, you wouldn't last more than a couple of days on the job. So he had slowly distanced his mind away from forming permanent relationships with the men with whom he worked alongside, knowing full well that each day he spent with them could be their last, or his last. Once he had gathered enough money from the meager payroll the commander had promised him, even it took decades, he would eventually be able to leave the cutthroat life and finally live in peace. Every morning when Jax woke up, he would tell himself that.
When he met Karzak, however, his perspective of the typical mercenary changed. The southerner was quite different than the rest of the sellswords, slow to anger, with a tendency to bear goodwill towards people no matter their character or background. No one dared to give him trouble either, with his natural strength being able to back up his mannerisms if anyone would call him out for being soft. Karzak had proven himself a trustworthy confidant for Jax, even going so far as to reveal to him his secret runic sword, knowing full well that the consequences of a potential betrayal could cost him his life.
The fact that Karzak had fallen to the cruel hand of fate rather than a poor decision of his own doing only angered Jax even further, even though the analytical half of his mind told him he couldn't pin it on the bandits specifically for taking his friend's life. Their natural course of action would be to rise to the defense of their territory, and even though in Jax's eyes the bandits were an objective evil that had to be exterminated from the area, he understood that they wouldn't have done anything else. It was yet another difference between him and the typical mercenary: he would be able to show empathy for the human beings he was assigned to kill. It was not at all a boon for Jax, as it only made dealing the killing blow to them all the more difficult.
Since the bandits didn't make up the entirety of the focus of Jax's anger, he needed to look elsewhere to sate his desire for retribution. The only open avenue left, therefore, was his own origins, the mercenary company itself. He had never been a huge fan of Commander Wargyen's entire character, from the excessively lavish clothing he wore to the exhibtionist attitude he took on when dealing with his men. He could stand being used as a pawn, a mere tool designed to fight and eliminate the threats of his superiors, but Jax absolutely despised the commander for the way he simply let the variations in skill between the company ultimately decide their fates without even lifting a finger to alter the course of destiny.
"The food is ready," came the gentle voice bringing his thoughts back down to earth.
Disoriented from being deep in thought for quite some time, Jax realized he must have had a peculiar expression on his face judging by Irelia's giggling. The girl had walked into the room with a large metal pot, steam flowing out of the small holes in its lid. Judging by the pleasing aroma and the type of the container, Jax guessed it was some sort of broth. She then exited the room, shortly returning with two ceramic bowls in hand and three wooden spoons, one larger than the other two to facilitate transferring the soup from the pot to the smaller bowls. Upon opening the pot the entirety of the steam burst out, most of it disappearing through the open window, and Jax was able to breathe in the delightful smell completely. He prided himself upon having a tough stomach that didn't need much to satisfy him, but even he was able to appreciate the fine culinary effort put into the meal.
"Miso is alright with you, I hope?"
Jax nodded. Although it was far from standard eating fare when he dined with the company, he had the pleasure to enjoy the mixture of soybeans, barley, and rice a few times when he and Karzak had a few days off and some spare coin to spend. While most of the mercenaries had spent their leisure time and resources gambling or frequenting the brothels, the two friends had much lower-key tastes, preferring the sanctuary of small noodle houses which could be found in nearly any Ionian town. If not for the scabbards they wore at the belts around their waists, one would never have guessed the pair to be men who killed for a living.
Draping an old rag over Jax's legs, Irelia carefully the bowls with the miso soup and gingerly set one into his lap. "Zelos had some important business to attend to at the Placidium, so he's going to be away until tomorrow morning," she explained. "Eating a meal without the entire family feels wrong, but you're not going to get any better on an empty stomach." She brought up a chair beside the bed and sat next to him, cradling her own bowl in her lap.
He nodded again, not in a very talkative mood after his long bout of contemplation. Something about her story didn't sit right with him, however. "Your brother left you alone overnight?'
"I'm more than capable of taking care of myself," she asserted, and Jax could tell by the way she straightened up in her seat that she was doing her best to look as grown-up as possible. For a girl as youthful as she was, Irelia definitely showed a maturity perhaps double her age, if the conversation she had with him earlier was any indication. Jax thought he was not much older than her, but in his eyes she was still a child, and from her point of view this scenario looked very dangerous.
"I know what you're thinking," she went on. "You're a big scary mercenary and I'm just a little weakling, so what's my brother doing leaving me alone with you for a night? What you didn't know is that Zelos and I were taught the way of the blade by our father, and I can wield a sword well enough to stab you in the gut if you make any funny movement out of that bed, not to mention the fact that you're still crippled."
Her mood had changed, Jax mused. He wasn't sure if she was beginning to act more comfortable around him, or if it was the captivating aroma of the soup which she had brought in, but Irelia was actually beginning to act like the teenage girl she was supposed to be. Jax tried to throw away the thought in his mind. He shouldn't be able to put a label on this girl - she was too mysterious for that. What does she want from me?
"You haven't touched your soup," Irelia said pointedly. "Don't tell me you're not hungry, you must be completely starving."
"I'm not at all comfortable eating or drinking anything before my host does the same," Jax offered.
She arched an eyebrow. "Are you worried that I poisoned it or something?" To prove her sincerity, she scooped up a generous portion of miso and swallowed it, waiting a few seconds to prove that there was nothing faulty with the broth.
"That wasn't it," Jax said absently. "It's not a matter of whether it's safe for me to eat or not. It's out of respect."
The smug expression had slipped off Irelia's face quite quickly, wide open eyes and pursed lips replacing it. "I'm really starting to question your story of being a mercenary now. You would have fit in much better with the samurai of Ryudou Temple better."
"I swear on my lack of honor that I am a completely selfish and dishonest man," Jax promised her.
Her laugh threatened to make him smile - it was that infectious. "Now I don't know whether to trust that I shouldn't trust you, or not trust that you're distrustful, or, or… I can't even tell now! You're making this so difficult."
The soup had a unique taste to it, Jax thought as the warm liquid seeped down his throat. It may have been a different variety of spices, or just the unparalleled feel of a truly home-cooked meal, but he felt content enough to not warrant responding to Irelia's little monologue.
"You know what, I'll just pin you down for a good guy and leave it at that right now," she finally decided.
"Oh rea-"
"Hush! I'm not letting you change my mind! I'll do that about five times before the end of this night," Irelia interrupted him. Over the course of the past hour or so she had really become a different person. Jax wondered which side of her was the real deal, and then contemplated on whether he'd stick around long enough to figure out.
"About this vengeance you want," Irelia changed the topic suddenly, her tone becoming much more serious again. "Who is this supposed to be going towards?"
Jax debated long and hard about what kind of answer to give to her. Sure, she wasn't directly involved in the immediate future plans he had in mind and was for all intensive purposes a bystander, but he wasn't about to rattle off all the steps he was planning to carry out to her. "The bandits and the mercenary company are equally at fault here," he decided on an ambiguous answer.
"You'd turn against the men who you worked with?" Irelia asked incredulously.
"The whole institution and the creed it wants to live by is corrupt," Jax informed her. "It puts shame on the meaning of the word 'power' and turned the concept of true strength into a laughingstock." Ironically, the one thing Captain Wargyen got right was his ability to control the sensation of battle, to actually restrain the blood rush of fighting an opponent and be able to test your ability against a person without the constant fear of your mortality hanging in the balance like a pendulum over your own body.
Irelia wanted him to expand more, to open up his thoughts to her, but the only words he uttered during the remainder of the meal were requests for more soup.
Under normal circumstances she never took much stock of dreams. There were several mystics who wandered about Ionia, each voicing a different claim that they could interpret dreams and use them to foretell the future, ranging from small events like the weather in the next coming days to the foundation of a new love to the large-scale ominous predictions of war on the horizon. The first time she had come across one of the fanatical spiritualists, her father had told her to walk by without so much as turning her head at them, and not listen to a word of what they were blabbering.
Irelia couldn't deny that this dream had a lot more vivid imagery than the usual phantasmal images which usually passed through her subconscious. A castle in the sky, a man carrying what looked to be a giant walking stick standing atop a mountain of bodies, a quartet of floating blades. What could they all mean? Trying to convince herself that the imagery was insignificant, and failing horribly at it, she forced herself to sit up in her bed and stretch her limbs, yawning loudly.
Upon reaching the door to her room, she realized that Jax had indeed not attempted to tamper with her while she slept, as the metal can which she had situated atop her doorsill in such a manner that it would fall to the floor with a loud klang if the door moved from the outside had not moved during the night. A mercenary who kept to his word was indeed a strange sight these days. She scratched the thought from her head. Jax was by no means a mercenary, at least not anymore. Vagabond would be a better word choice.
Entering the kitchen which also doubled as the main room of the small house, Irelia noticed that her brother had not yet returned from his trip. Seeing that she would have to prepare breakfast for only two until further notice, she began to make her way to the storage room at the far side of the house to get the bag of rice. As she considered the possibilities of what combinations of vegetables she could include in the dish, she walked past the open door of the guest room which served as Jax's temporary bedroom, and quickly doubled back on her steps.
If the door was open, it would only have meant one thing. Irelia hurriedly peered into the room, and her eyes confirmed her fear.
Jax had left.
A/N: boy I hope you weren't hoping for some more Irelia/Jax interaction cause now as soon as they got together they're separated again! don't worry, they'll find a way to run into each other next chapter. It is the whole point of the story.
I'm not sure if Irelia's mood changed too drastically between chapters but it didn't seem out of character, although that influence is probably from Trinity. Apart from that and the very questionable Fate/stay night reference, this segment is fairly run-of-the-mill. Also, dreams. It's so easy to drop symbolism in one chapter and then make a bunch of things happen in future chapters that vaguely relate to the images in dreams and go "HA, I did foreshadowing!" I don't like using dream imagery but in this case I think it'll actually be useful.