Chapter Three
1.
Since Jeralt so kindly gave them the animals, it takes mere months after he and his troupe are gone before trade starts up again in Sauin Village. This also means no one is scraping by for food, everyone is sharing equally, even if it means some go hungry at night.
If Leonie isn't practicing her horseback riding, she's out in the forest for a few nights tracking game. They learn not to miss her; she learns how to see Crest bonds. She can see her own broken threads whenever she lets the ward drop, it is not a logical leap to see others. Finding moments to look when people can't see her eyes change is the issue.
It appears that everyone except her and the children have a dulled violet blue mist thread, likely the Crest of Gloucester. It reaches strong, thick, a few feet away from them before disappearing into the air. Some have it wrapped around their hearts, others their hands where more threads sprout.
There only ever seems to be one around the heart. In the deer of the forest, it is a golden, sparkling yellow-white that points away from the village. Leonie still remembers the mascot animal, and not even curiosity lets her kill or follow the deer towards the Crest bearing one. She comes to the realization that she has not killed a deer, cannot bring herself to do it. There are no lions in this forested area, and no eagles when there are so many vultures swooping by from the deserts.
Leonie has no idea if she'd be able to kill the other houses. At the moment, the answer is mentally yes. She doesn't know them, isn't friends or bonded. Physically, though…
Weakweakweakweakweakweak…
And physiologically? Leonie's yet to kill a predator face-to-face. She'd like to save that honor for an Agarthan or Nabatean.
It's just a little daydream. Not everyone can kill an immortal, after all.
2.
Harden.
The skin of her fingers becomes more durable, unable to be pierced or split.
Strength.
Her muscles jolt a bit, their lifting capacity increasing as Leonie grips a tree branch.
Sticky fingers.
There is no slip. All grip and release. The teenager jumps.
Lightweight.
Speed.
The buffs do their job. In no time, she's climbed up the highest tree around, gazing at the world below. A beautiful sunset, the full moon already appearing.
Today is day two without sleep. She's been manic most of the day, stalking the herd of buffalo with no mercy. This is the first sign of ever seeing the animals, all she wants is one to take home.
What she needs to do is snatch it before any other predator does, and then climb home. Simple, sure, except for everything in between. Climbing would be slower than if she ran, but she's not faster than everything in the forest floor yet. The herd is currently grazing and getting one alone or even shooting now would startle everything into a panic.
She's also on a time limit. Once the forty-eight hours mark hits, she'll start hallucinating. Seventy-two, she'll pass out. Oh, yes, she could try to go past it, but that begins the stages of starvation even if she's well fed. Constant reason magic will apparently do that to the body. Got to have the energy to think straight and block out the brain's I'm tired sensors. It's not like anyone around here actually grows coffee beans.
Screw it, Leonie pulls out her bow. The sudden burst of anger at not having delights like chocolate or coffee because they're so far out of the way and unimportant in the grand scheme of things gives her strength. Not to keep her patience. No, hitting the twenty-four hours mark of wakefulness means she's far past patience. She is buzzing with terrible ideas.
"This is so unhygienic," the teenager grumbles and delicately licks her thumb. Fire, she's found, is her primary element. She sticks her thumb against an arrowhead, spitting the grime out off to the side. While she can set things alight with ease, wards use less energy. Wards on herself, easy. Passing it off through others though…
It's either spit or blood and cutting herself open would be the grosser of the two. Passing energy through a liquid is much easier than doing it through a solid, and air the easiest of all what with speaking out loud.
The magic of the ward in her saliva bursts to life after crackling in black reason magic. She notches the arrow and breathes.
Releases.
The buffalo goes down, frozen. Frost appears on the arrow's shaft and there's no way anyone or thing is going to steal her kill now. Leonie grins before realizing she'll have to apply more wards and buffs in order to keep herself from catching the cold.
At least she's not hallucinating yet.
3.
The first time she's brought along to another village, it's to help barter goods and services. Their village wants the goods, their hunters are the services.
Leonie smiles, throwing the bartender off-guard, just like Jeralt told her. "Hello! My name is Leonie! I'm currently a hunter in my village!"
"Currently?" asks the gruff, hard-eyed man cleaning a glass. It all feels very stereotypical. "So does that mean you want to be something else?"
"I want to be a mercenary!"
"…You want to kill people?"
"I want to make the world a better place," Leonie keeps smiling. "Fight bad guys and make life-long friendships with people who have my back!"
She's still at the age this works. Jeralt told her to use it to her advantage if she were going to sell her skills for coin. Told her not to bring up his name; he already has quite the tab in too many taverns. An eager kid whose gender is undetermined at first glance and first sound, who's not nearly close to her max 5'5" in height, fits right in to get amused glances from the fighters in the room. After a minor grilling, the bartender lets her a glance at the bounties for animal hides in the area.
Funnily enough, not even one is for deer. The several pages list things from toads to panthers, but no buck antlers or fawns like she expected a noble from the Alliance to be after. Then again, none of these requests are from the nobles. She brings it up, like Jeralt suggested if nothing was there.
That's when the bartender – who must be amused by her; sees she wears the sigil meaning she's a Gloucester citizen – shows her the bounty list. It's the only one the nobles ever pass around, according to the man. He doesn't show her pictures, but there's a list of last names Leonie hungrily tries to memorize.
Right there, in the unassuming upper middle, is the name Riegan. It triggers something in her that rears up, that shouts, f**king called it and echoes in her head. A bit of information she knows she's forgotten, but can't place a finger on.
"Leonie!" her father calls, having finished deals with their newest clients. Probably asking for squirrel. "We're leaving!"
"Coming!" she replies. Her best thanks and goodbyes go sweetly to the bartender, who laughs at her for his farewell. Her mask doesn't change, even as they step into the busy streets.
That bounty Gloucester's set could have paid for her tuition several times over. Her opinion hasn't changed, the man's is a terrible ruler. He can pay for that, but not for her village restoration. She mentally calls him a few more names, not to let it the anger show in front of those who practically worship him.
No need to begin a slaughter.
4.
Her first time entering a new village hadn't been too extraordinary until she was faced with the chilling feeling of bonds sliding over her. Reaching and flowing around her. So many people with Crests, she almost gagged at being able to taste the thickness to the air.
Her village is twenty adults. This one is over fifty, not including the merchants or passersby. It's simple enough to keep herself invisible to them, their eyes smoothly gliding right over her as if she were an unassuming prop. Like a tree. An hour into her stay, she's fine and doing her best to ignore the ghostly trails over her skin. What Leonie is more worried about is dealing with this at the Monastery. Still plenty of years to go, but she'll need to travel to other villages more often to get used to it all.
She plots and plans while packing up. Repeats to herself which animals will snag her the most coin, what names she'll need to remember in case of crossing paths of thieves or other murderers.
What is she forgetting about Riegan?
She asks her father on the way home, knowing that name had sounded familiar but unsure why. "Is there an important person named Riegan?"
Her father lightly, tightly, tells her yes, but ask again at dinner. When it's just the two of them, she does.
He straightens, anger slowly drawing into his seated position, "You've learned about the ten elites in your schooling, correct?" Leonie nods. "Riegan was one of them, and his descendant is currently the leader of the Leicester Alliance. A position that does not belong to him!"
Oh no, Leonie keeps her angel mask in place, tilting her head to try and signal confusion. I never did check where his Crest bonds were, did I? "But I thought there were no leaders in the Alliance, dad. Isn't that the point?"
"That's what everyone says," her father sneers, showing a lot more life that she can ever remember him having. Maybe it's just a one-off thing. Maybe it's whatever Crest bonds that formed at the new village today. They've spent years in a place without Crests, after all. "But their ruling is practically law. They couldn't even do anything when Almyra was invading, and for what?! Talks of peace?! Oh, yah, those from Almyra really showed us what they thought of peace talks, didn't they?"
Leonie swears her brain has stopped working as her dad shovels back his food. This is not how she thought the day would go. What's worse, the few puzzle pieces are starting to come together. Thirteen years is a long time to go without refreshers, but it's hard toforget the gist of Claude's backstory. No wonder seeing the name rang a few alarm bells.
"If you're serious," her dad breaks her thoughts, startling her into looking up from her suddenly unappetizing soup, "about becoming a mercenary, or even just going to the Monastery for study, don't deal with anything House Riegan. They're a dying breed, rumor is the current heir will be the last."
Leonie curls her hands together, laced fingers squeezing as she smiles.
Blink.
-pulls the knife from her belt, ducks under the table and stabs him-
Blink.
"Of course, dad," Leonie lies. Pretends she doesn't imagine killing half the village on a daily basis. "You taught me better, after all."
How easy it would be- that's not right, shouldn't be thinking about this- prey, all around- don't want to be a serial killer- don't like them, should just move along- not yet, but soon-
Six more years, at least half the tuition.
I wonder how my future year mates are doing.
5.
It's a jolt of remembrance, a shock, that has her releasing a blanket late at night to touch her throat.
Canon Leonie Pinelli had a special charm gifted to her by Jeralt before he left. Something that was only ever taken off after S Ranking the main character. An object so special that Leonie would knowingly wear it over a decade, keeping it at the base of her neck no matter what sting she had to use to wear it.
What are the chances, Leonie thinks, eyes narrowing as she draws the blanket up again, that the charm protected her from other Crest bonds?
How likely is it that she would have gotten the charm had she not thought to become invisible to the tethers?
How much of fate is still going forward, and does this mean she is playing into it even when she defies the little things?
None of it matters until the Monastery.
She just has to keep believing that.
6.
Confident about the matrixes, the wordings and science written on the dirt around her, Leonie balls up the saliva in her mouth. Licks her thumb. Places the clear liquid on her rucksack, right on the circular marking just offset from the center. A small thumbprint appears on the stained button-like image. The teenager quickly steps back.
The print dissipates. Black reason magic crackles and flares, sparking all around the bag like a game of leapfrog. The whole thing is enveloped in darkness, and then it lets out a small burst of black sparkles. The bag doesn't look any different, still patchwork and malleable. Leonie picks it up, and it doesn't harm her. Lifts open the flap – a good sign – and carefully widens the drawstring top she'd sown together from old curtain fabric. It feels a bit stiffer than normal, but no signs of tampering. So far, so good.
It's dark inside the bag, no amount of light making a difference. Leonie picks up a rock to put in. No sound of hitting the bottom, no added weight.
She reaches a hand in, thinking about retrieving the rock. It's the only thing she grabs in the endless space, pulling it out no worse for wear. She grins, something real and ecstatic.
Pocket dimension storage. Leonie straps her rucksack back around her hips, carefully making sure the drawstring is closed and opening secured under the original flap. Then, she wipes away the evidence. Once she gets used to it, all she'll have to do is make sure it isn't destroyed while she's alive. It would suck to be in the area when all her stuff pours back into reality, the protection wards better hold out for a lifetime.
But for now, she basks in the moment of making the impossible happen.
7.
For her fourteenth birthday, Leonie's father gifts her a brown, plain cloak that looks like something out of Red Riding Hood. This, however, comes with a warming charm, something that would have cost a hefty amount of gold.
"As thanks for all you've done," he smiles his thin, proud smile. "Happy birthday, Leonie."
She thanks him, tying the gift's string securely around her throat. A sigh leaves her as the warming charm starts up, powered by her ambient magic. She was born in August, the month known as Verdant Rain Moon, and already the nights have become cooler, the constant drizzle of rain finally beginning to halt. There are several places being hit worse, the seas in constant turmoil for most the month, but it is still miserable to hunt in. The cold likes to seep and latch onto bone.
Suffice to say, her birthday has never been a point of happiness for her in this life. Her gifts from her father have consisted of extra servings or a handful of old arrows. This is the nicest thing she's ever received.
Yet, she cannot tie emotion to it. The orange haired angle of the village cannot find the energy to care for their wellbeing. She's spent too long going hungry throughout her new life, being cold and teaching herself how to survive past the bounds of what should be a ghost town. Now that they are beginning to thrive, to make coin and interact with the outside world once again, they don't need her.
It cuts deep that she never found respect for any of them. Not for the innocent children, nor the weary adults. Leonie does not look at the cloak and think, this was a gift from my dad.
She thinks only, this is a helpful piece of equipment.
It leaves her a touch bitter that she feels so alone. No real attachments, no real importance. No one will rewind time when she dies.
At least she isn't being tortured. At least she won't grieve the death of anyone here. She isn't worth being used or manipulated; she's weakweakweakweak-
Leonie spends the next few days sleeping in the cave system she's explored over the existence of her new life. This way, she's free.
This way, she can remind herself why she still follows along with fate's plan. The specks of hope of finding friends is not smothered by the uneducated or liars who teach her village. Here, her father can't make snide remarks about the state of the world now that they are getting up-to-date gossip. The extremely biased educators cannot force the gospel of Seiros down her throat, invigorated by talking with the churchgoers in a village that has a place of worship. No one can spread racisms and prejudice if there's no one around.
She is fourteen and three days, living off of the food she can scavenge and few water pouches in her pocket dimension, when the rains completely stop. She is well rested and preparing to sneak back home that night, hoping to use the light of the full moon to guide her instead of the night vision buff, when she senses the call for help. Senses, because the forest suddenly rolls with power and even the pebble at a bottom of the river will feel the force of a tsunami. She doubles over against the cave wall, changing her view of the world quickly.
Golden-white layers everything like a mist. Flashes of the solid colour blink in between the black of the forest. Leonie startles as one flies past the entrance; she flicks back to the world of colour. A buck crashes through the underbrush, hurrying along with the rest. A doe hurries by next.
Like a rat to the Pied Piper, Leonie follows as well. She flicks back and forth between visions, the mist slowly pulling back to where it came like a tidal current. It doesn't pain her, doesn't even tickle. Only a gentle nudge around her while she sees the words for help pass by in solid gold-white strands.
Then she hears the roar.
Leonie freezes at the inhuman sound, smiling involuntarily tugging at her lip. Inappropriate smiler, she scolds, not fighting it this time. She flicks the buffs on one by one. Silence. Invisibility. Speed.
This is her first time facing a monster. The Giant Wolf roars again, too far gone to howl anymore. It is black in Crest vision, tearing through the gold oppressing it with ease. It kills the animals with one swipe, but that doesn't stop them from trying. Wolves, bears, even vultures dart in and out for attacks, all golden-white bonds around their hearts.
With a trilling cry, the golden deer rushes forward while it's distracted.
Leonie sucks in a sharp breath, fingers fumbling to pull open her bag for her bow. In Crest vision, the golden buck does not have bonds spilling from his bloodstream like humans with Crests do. Instead, his are concentrated over his heart, coming from the broken shard the organ has grown around.
The arrows clatter at her feet, Leonie stringing back one. She drops Silence and Invisibility, muttering out a panicked, "Strength, Accuracy, Shield Breaker." Gathers her magic into her hands, through the wood and to the metal tip. "Fire Arrow."
She releases, picking up another and repeating before it's twenty feet away. The Giant Wolf howls as the attack does a direct hit on its final health bar, burning away some fur as it sticks out. Most of the animals retreated at the sight of fire, and the ones left get blown away by a dark pulse of magic, shredding the arrow. It turns to her, meeting several arrows head-on as it charges.
Unable to help it, the teenager lets out a crazed laugh through grinning lips. Around her, wind stirs as the power from the golden deer's Crest gathers near her best it can. Trying to heal her. She uses this advantage to summon, tweaking her element just a bit, "Lightening Arrow."
It hits between the eyes, stunning the monster. She and the golden deer call together, the animals in the forest rushing the monster. Like a battalion. Like authority.
Leonie gathers her things and climbs up a tree, away from the dying monster's line of sight. A few more hits, and a blinding attack from the golden deer. Leonie blinks away spots in time to see the monster dissipate into black reason magic, fading into the air. Then, stillness.
The golden buck makes the first call, a triumphed and mournful sound. The other animals echo, slowly breaking off and away to their own sections of the land. With eyes a little too aware, the golden deer begins for her tree when they're alone.
"No," Leonie grits out, dropping. She has an arrow drawn and pointed, herself a little crazed at the success of defeating something the size of a house. However, she refuses to let her guard down. The golden-white mist may be gone from the air, but that doesn't mean she's safe. Animals aren't supposed to have Crests, never mind shards of a Crest Stone in their chests. The golden deer stops. "Stay back."
He trills softly, head lowering.
Speed, Leonie refreshes her buff. Silent feet. Danger sense.
She unhooks the arrow and runs in the same motion. The deer doesn't follow.
Still, she realizes just how truly small her territory is. How it's the one letting her hunt here. If it constantly flared its power like that, she'd have never returned.
Faced with the perfect object to test her theory on destroying Crest Stones, and she runs.
Weak.
But the deer are not her prey. Not yet.
8.
Leonie does not see the golden deer again, but he is around. She can sense when it lets out small bits of power, looking for something – or someone – to add to his collection of followers. Her paranoia only gets worse with no safe place anymore. He rules the forest, the villagers are hounding her.
When are you going to look for a significant other, Leonie? Have you thought about having kids, Leonie? There was a very cute merchant promising to come by, I can introduce you! Oh, Leonie, do you want me to teach you how to run a household?
She signs her first contract to kill people at fifteen. That's not the important bit to her, that honor goes to the fact she gets to hold a real pen for the first time. Sure, it's a terrible excuse for a pen, but it feels a little like normalcy. Priorities may be a bit skewed, but Leonie knows she isn't a good person. The 'functioning' members of society aren't the ones who happily kill for coin, not even in this world of constant conflict.
It takes her a full night to pick off the nineteen bandits. She stores their belongings and gets a reward for opening the roads to merchants. Already the earnings for her Monastery fund are on the rise this year. It's an unfortunately nice pick-me-up from the constant stress wearing her down back in her village.
The first thing she does with her pay is buy two books and a few cheap pens. Once hidden in a clearing of dirt in the forest, she uses the matrix she's been desperate to apply. Even the presence of the hiding golden deer isn't enough to stop her glee. She's quick to flip open both pages after the matrices take hold, dropping a blob of ink on one page.
It appears on the other book's page as well. When she rips off the small corner of paper, the ink disappears from the other book.
Leonie can't resist the cackle.
It may have been fifteen years, she may not remember everything, but finally, she can write it all down.
9.
Jeralt had once told her, "There is a quota the Monastery uses to choose its full-time, certificate-aiming students every year."
"You said they picked us through a skills competition."
"That's the lie they tell everyone. Same as the assumption that there's always a spot open for at least one commoner per house."
She hadn't known any of this at the time, but with trade and gossip passing there's more and more people eager to tell stories of their time at the school.
"The truth is that they take in at least three minor Crests and one Crestless."
"And the other four slots?"
"Those usually go to the nobles, if there are any leftover. Major Crests get them if not."
She had understood the meaning at the time, her only real chance was to take the Crestless spot. Without a noble's recommendation, she has even less of a chance of getting in. If she doesn't demolish the training grounds daintily when the time comes, then she'll never stand a chance against whoever the Alliance will throw at the Monastery. Leonie turns sixteen and knows she could never bring herself to ask the landlord for his recommendation. She has the full tuition gathered - a pipedream once upon a time - and all that's left is to train.
She is nearing her max height and people can recognize her as female. No one beyond the villages she's already worked for would ever take her seriously, not with how string bean and lean she is. Barely any armour, too fresh-faced. All that's left in her time limit is to get some extra gold and training. There is nothing else she can do.
She can't remember what's supposed to come between now and Sothis' awakening.
She dreads every minute of it. Loathes the small-town bigotry toiling away and winds up trekking through the forest most days to get away from it all. It would be so simple to run, but she can't take the chance of being away from the linchpin when it pulls.
Who knew that living again would be so hard?
10.
She had been a mile away when she saw the birds take flight. Heard the tail end of what could have been a scream. Bored out of her mind, Leonie shimmied down from her perch and ran – glided – across the forest floor. It had been maybe a handle of minutes by the time she reached the hill over cresting a road.
Three soldiers were down, another several trying to keep back the three Giant Wolves. There was a man bearing a moon-like symbol on his robes shooting arrows and shouting orders from atop a merchant cart with the same symbol, and one of the merchants throwing punches that could knock back the wolves a step.
They also all looked deeply exhausted and barely hanging in there. Leonie pulls out her bow and quiver and gets ready for some target practice. "Strength. Accuracy. Shield Breaker. Refresh: Speed. Fire Magic Boost. Fire Arrow."
Release.
The first Giant Wolf hit roars loudly as it gets an arrow to the eye. There's a startle from the humans, but it doesn't proceed into the second hit. The man on the cart turns, watching her shoot for a moment before returning to his fast-paced firing.
Leonie doesn't realize that in less than a minute, she's won them a battle. She's disappointed that her attack clearly isn't strong enough to deal the killing blows in one hit. She packs everything away, switching out weapons for a practice lance to keep just in case. Leonie sits and kicks her feet, waiting for them to leave so she can loot for meat; maybe see if there were any ores left by the monsters.
Only, they don't leave. Moon-guy waves her down, apparently annoying his people because he wants to say thanks. Leonie huffs a disinterested breath and climbs down, Danger Sense on full alert.
"You're just a kid," blurts the merchant who was smacking monsters around. A woman several heads taller than Leonie and three times as thick and broad. A second merchant, male, smaller, and wearing a matching ring, fiddles with a book in his hands.
"I'm turning seventeen this year and legally have a mercenary licence," Leonie keeps her I'm a sweet angel mask on. A great thing about her past life, she knows how to act emotions even if she never really feels them. She knows how to make a smile reach her eyes, even when she's pissed. She nods to the symbol on the cart. "Can I ask where you guys are from?"
The archer wearing the symbol looks over. His smile takes on a confused tint while the others look shocked. His green eyes are friendly when he looks at her, asking, "Have you never seen the symbol of House Riegan?"
It's then Leonie realizes she's standing with a bunch of idiots if they thought this little group could make it through Gloucester alive. Those wolves were probably plants, and she should get out of here before more come. But… she's been so bored. This could become some good training. "Nah, my village was pretty secluded until a few years ago. We just got put back on the map about a month ago. More importantly, why are you guys waving the House Riegan banner around? Don't you know that's what's making you targets?"
There's a lot of spluttering, but the leader calmly asks, "What do you mean?"
"I might be new to the whole village-communication thing, but even I know that everyone around here hates House Riegan." Leonie carefully puts the lance on her back, ignoring the more outrages exclamations. "Just saying, I wouldn't be surprised if you get more monsters or bandits or something sent after you."
"Do you hate us?" he asks, honestly curious by his expression.
"A person's a person," Leonie shrugs and begins walking to the spots of the defeated monsters. "You haven't done anything to me, so I have no reason to hate you."
"What are you doing?" he jogs after her, smile returning to his face. Easy pleaser.
"Looking for meat, coins, anything I can sell to pay for book fees."
"Oh? Are you in school?"
"I'm aiming to go to the Monastery," it's not like it hurts telling him this. Everyone else around knows, and they'll probably never see each other again. "Real expensive place. S'why I got into the mercenary business."
"That is really dangerous," he hums lightly, "I-"
"Sir," cuts in the woman merchant, "we really do need to be on our way, lest more come by nightfall."
He flips into commander mode. Leonie feels a smile tug on her face, a little bit more real. A part of her likes him, respects how he held ground during the attack. Seems like a nice guy.
"Take down all the markings of House Riegan," he demands, unhooking his own marked cape. Smart, too. No shame in hiding his house. Always a plus in her books. When he turns back to the teenager, he does soften a little, holding out a hand to assist her up. She hesitantly grabs it, having picked all her spoils. Notes that he doesn't have a Crest, seeing as he can look at her without dismissing her. "What's your name?"
"Leonie, sir."
"My name is Godfrey," he answers in kind. "Would you be able to escort us to the next town, or are you needing to return home?"
"I'll escort you," she jumps at the chance. "I need to check Mavi's job posting's anyway. They get a lot more business than the other villages." And she can always jog home within a day or two if need be. Worst she'll get is a light scolding for being longer than her usual three or four days.
"Come on the wagon with us, then." They have very different definitions of wagon. The cart is more like a carriage now that she sees it without the banners. "These are merchants who will be appraising a rare item for me. Luci, Mickael, this is Leonie."
The woman, Luci, squints in a distracted way, meaning she likely has some sort of Crest. Mickael holds out a hand to shake. "Thank you for your assistance."
"I was around." She shakes.
"So, Leonie," Godfrey smiles disarmingly. Her suspicion deepens until he asks, "mind telling us more about why we might have been targeted?"
With all her pent-up resentment towards Gloucester, she does so gladly.
A/N: Thanks for reading! A really big thank you to Chickenpotpie and ShadowWolf223 for reviewing! The support really means a lot!
I hope everyone has a fantastic day