Warhammer (CH7) (Patreon)

“It wasn’t his fault, you know.” Belle said. They were seated at the dining-hall’s table for lunch, already prepared for them. Thalion and Morgaine were absent—they only joined for breakfast and dinner. “And arguing with them like that was just stupid.”

“I know.” Beatrice said, sipping on her sweet milk tea. “I just got angry.”

“You should apologize.” Licia chimed in. She pointedly looked toward an empty chair—Eli’s usual spot.

Bee didn’t say anything. She was still mad—at those self-absorbed fops, and her brother, though she knew he didn’t deserve it. The cause of her temper wasn’t his interference, but the growing distance between them. She disliked it immensely, but had no idea what she was supposed to do. If she could, she’d go talk to him. However, she knew he wanted to be alone.

“What am I going to do?” She asked, referring to Eli, Alastor and his friends, her relationship with Thalion and Morgaine, her future—everything.

Belle, ever the more sensible of the twins, caught her meaning. “Well, I for one am going to fall in love.”

Bee and Licia looked at their sister stupidly. “You’re going to what?” The former asked, unsure if she heard correctly.

“Oh, come on.” Belle said exasperatedly. “Licia and I are already sixteen this year. In the human world, we’d be expected to marry. Besides, I know she’s already interested in someone.”

The girl in question blushed. “Belle, shush!”

Belle raised her hands placatingly. “I didn’t tell her who it is. Calm down.”

Beatrice’s mouth opened and closed. She had so many questions, most of which she was too embarrassed to ask. “I didn’t know you could plan falling in love.” She said eventually. “I thought it happened when you least expected it, like a blow to the back of the head.”

“Well, I’ve decided.” Belle said simply. “I’m certainly not spending my life alone.”

Bee frowned. “And what’s that supposed to mean?”

“You’re really prickly today, you know that? People find someone. They get married. It’s normal.”

Silence followed. Beatrice sat there with her cup half-raised, thoughts churning in her head. She recalled helping a neighboring wife back in the human world—that person had already been married and with child at the same age.

Staring at her sisters, she was suddenly struck by how womanly they’d become. Despite being two years older, Beatrice looked the same age as Eli. Her siblings’ difference in growth was a source of great anxiety for her. She was the shortest of the four, and her curves not worth mentioning.

More than that, it was a reminder she’d outlive them all. Half-bloods, as long as they remained in the Lands of the Ever Young, were immortal. Her only solace was knowing Anwynn’s air and faerie food and drink had a similar effect on humans. Still, the mere thought of them dying at some point, even if it was in the far future, made it hard for her to breathe.

“Surely, there’s no need to think so hard.” Belle said, taking Bee’s silence to mean something else. “Even if you told me you haven’t liked anyone, I wouldn’t believe you.

Beatrice’s brows furrowed. “I have not.”

“You haven’t looked at a single boy thinking they were handsome or pretty?” Belle asked.

“That’s not the same thing.” Beatrice said. “You were talking about love, not-…” She trailed off, a twinge of redness showing on her face.

“You were going to say lust, weren’t you?” Licia asked, covering her mouth with one hand. Excitement sparkled in her eyes. “Now I can’t help but wonder who you found attractive.”

“That’s irrelevant. And the answer is no-one.”

Belle shook her head. “It’s still important to, well, feel a certain way when you look at a person, if you know what I mean. And you can grow to love someone over time, you know?” Her lips curved upward, both knowing and suggestive.

Bee managed to school her expression. “You two are incorrigible. Maybe if you spent more time reading actual books instead of romance novels, your classes would trouble you less.”

“Romance novels are actual books.” Licia said, affronted.

Bee snorted, shaking her head. “I can’t believe the library even has them. Who reads them, the maids?” She tried imagining it, but couldn’t see any of the sour-faced, antagonistic faeries spending their time so frivolously.

“Mom used to live here.” Belle said quietly. A few years ago, when they’d been more mischievous, the four of them explored the mansion on their own, coming across a closed-up room. They found a painting of Liliana and Thalion there, talking and laughing in the garden.

“You think they could’ve been hers?” Licia asked carefully.

Before her sister could reply, Beatrice stood, her chair scraping across the floor. “I’m full.” She said abruptly, turning and making her way toward the exit. “I’ll see you later.”

“Uh, okay.” Belle said, exchanging a worried glance with her twin. All three of them had been shaken by that discovery—that Liliana hadn’t lived like a bird in a cage. They knew very little about her past, if anything at all. Thalion hadn’t said a word, and the twins had been too afraid to ask. And Beatrice, well, she avoided the topic like the plague.

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Under the low-hanging sun, Eli wiped the sweat from his brow. He’d been exercising for nearly five hours, yet felt no better than when he’d started. The creature opposite him, idly scraping its metal-tipped claws, was part of the reason.

“I don’t like that look in your eyes.” He said, palming the grip of his dulled blade. “Like you’re trying to figure me out.”

Styx was the hobgoblin Eli had met on his first day, and the most antagonistic servant of all. He’d long-since realized earning the monster’s respect was a fool’s errand. It hated humans, and it hated him. If it weren’t for its vow to Thalion, it would’ve slit his throat while he slept.  

It said nothing, its lip curling into a sneer.

Eli’s eyes narrowed. It had definitely noticed his physical abilities weren’t that of a normal human’s. There’s no way it wouldn’t have. He knew Styx didn’t believe he’d ever threaten it, but it did know he was getting more difficult to kill. To it, humans were cattle, to be slaughtered and devoured at a whim. They shouldn’t have the ability to resist.

“If it hurts too much, maybe you should stop.” He said sarcastically, raising his sword. “Thinking, I mean.”

Styx circled him slowly, all but eviscerating him with its gaze. It was looking for an opportunity to strike.

Eli’s eyes rested on its torso, not focusing on anything in particular. It could attack in any number of ways, teeth included.

“Fucking ugly freak.” He whispered under his breath, deciding to take the initiative. He stepped into range, going for a lunge.

Styx countered aggressively, its augmented claws sparking against his sword. In a burst of speed, it went for his eyes. His last comment had definitely stoked its anger.

Eli’s lip quirked upwards. Its viciousness was predictable. He twisted his wrist, bringing his sword up to deflect. His other hand, clutching a parrying-dagger, went on the offensive.

They exchanged a few strikes before Styx suddenly ducked, whirling to the right. It clung to his side like a limpet, aware of Eli’s reach-advantage. It wouldn’t let him create even one inch of distance.

Eyebrows furrowing, Eli adjusted his sword’s positioning. He used it like a pike, preventing Styx from getting closer lest it impale itself. It was so close and so fast, he couldn’t do much else.

He grunted, feeling his shirt tear, three burning lines being drawn across his ribs. His move hadn’t worked. Their weapons may have been dulled, but not enough to prevent injury. If it’d been a real fight, he knew his guts would’ve been all over the floor.

Despite what could arguably be considered the end, Styx didn’t withdraw his claws. Instead, he tore into Eli’s skin as if he wanted to dig out his organs on the spot. His over-enthusiasm earned him a cut on the brow, barely missing his eye. It seemed superficial, but blood streamed from the wound, obscuring his vision.

Their fighting turned frenzied, cutting and slicing and stabbing. It quickly ceased to be about winning and losing—Eli would’ve died ten times over, though his opponent certainly wasn’t unscathed—and had instead become an exercise in sadism, trying to cause as much pain as possible with their blunted weapons.

“Enough!” A familiar voice shouted after some time, reverberating in the courtyard.

Realizing who it was, they immediately disengaged, splattering more blood on the ground. A pool had formed between them, red and green mingling together. The resulting brown liquid soaked into the sand.

Shivering from adrenaline and pain, Eli’s gaze left the hobgoblin. Thalion approached from under the eaves, having arrived at some point. His stride was measured, neither hurrying nor dallying. His face, as always, was a marble mask. However, Eli could tell he was furious—from how he shoved his hands behind his back, his lithely-muscled forearms flexing in his tight sleeves.

“What do you think you’re doing?” He asked, grabbing Eli’s wrist. His grip felt strong enough to crush bone.

Eli winced as Thalion twisted his arm. His weapon thumped against the ground. “I was just-… I wanted to experience a real battle.”

Thalion looked at him with a mix of anger and disbelief. “That was your idea of a real battle?”

“I-…” Eli started. Before he could get far, Thalion hissed, jerking his arm. A lance of pain shot toward his shoulder.

“Battle is about control, of the body and mind. To relinquish that is to render all one’s training useless.” Thalion said, giving him a hard stare, his slitted pupils burning into Eli’s own.

Eli breathed out slowly. When he felt calmer, he nodded once. Thalion was right. Simply going berserk wasn’t a winning strategy. If it were that easy, nobody would bother training for years upon years. “I’m sorry, father, it was a mistake. I won’t repeat it.”

Thalion’s gaze softened. He relaxed his grip, examining Eli’s wounds. “Your injuries are not small. Come, we’ll tend to them. I’ll deal with you later.” He snapped, intending the latter part for Styx.

“I asked him to do it. To not hold back.” Eli said. It wasn’t that he was defending the hobgoblin—he’d gleefully watch the creature get beaten within an inch of its life. Rather, he needed it as a training partner. His hatred of it, and the element of danger its own malice brought to their sessions had spurred his improvement tremendously.

“Do my instructions not supersede your requests?” Thalion asked stonily.

Eli’s mouth opened and closed, not knowing what to say. It was impossible to argue without undermining Thalion’s authority—something he knew not to do, even if he’d be forgiven for it.

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“Wait a moment.” Eli said, tugging on Thalion’s sleeve. They were in a long, empty hallway. The patterned walls, ceiling and floor were carved from the same white stone. A green carpet, intricately embroidered with golden thread, stretched from end to end.

Thalion raised a fine eyebrow, silently questioning.

Eli breathed slowly. He’d determined honesty to be the best course of action, but couldn’t help being nervous. “Can we go somewhere private? I need to talk to you.”

“Your cuts are deep, Elias, and you’ve lost a lot of blood. You need treatment.” Thalion said, putting a graceful hand on his cheek. “Surely it can wait for later.”

“It can’t.” Eli said, shaking his head. “I’d prefer nobody else knows. And the healer might, if they check my wounds.”

Thalion frowned. “Did you take something you shouldn’t have?”

“No, it’s just-… Look, can we go somewhere else? My room, your study—anywhere.”

There was a moment’s silence. “Very well. But I can’t neglect your injuries. Let me get a few things. I’ll treat you, then we’ll talk.” Thalion said. Not waiting for a reply, he grabbed Eli’s arm, dragging him in a different direction.

Some time later, Eli found himself seated in a spartan room. Thalion loomed over him, a needle and thread pinched between two fingers. He didn’t so much as twitch, staring fixedly at Eli’s bare chest.

“You should’ve noticed it earlier, right?” Eli murmured. “That’s why you asked if I took something.”

Thalion’s gaze shifted. “Your fighting was sloppy, but you were stronger and faster than you should’ve been. And this…” His tone was distant, his fingers tracing a cut on Eli’s shoulder. A short while ago, it was bleeding profusely, looking like it needed a dozen stitches. Now, the blood had clotted, and it’d closed up enough that the red flesh inside could no longer be seen.

Eli waited for Thalion to say something, for the questions to come—ones he wasn’t sure he could answer. That didn’t happen. Instead, he was the one to speak, the silence growing too uncomfortable. “I don’t know what’s going on with me.”

Thalion turned around, his hands clutched behind his back. The needle and thread lay discarded on a little table. “Does she know?” He asked.

Eli blinked. He soon realized who his father referred to. “No, I haven’t told Mother. I’ve… burdened her too much already.”

“I doubt she’d think that.” Thalion said. He was silent for a moment longer. “What do you make of this?”

“I’m not sure.” Eli said slowly. Him asking that meant Thalion wasn’t sure himself, though he probably had his suspicions.

Eventually, Thalion glanced at him over his shoulder. There was a look in his eyes Eli couldn’t place. “Have you noticed any other abnormalities?”

Eli hesitated. “I have some resistance to glamours. I think.”

“And how did you find that out?” Thalion asked, a dangerous edge to his voice.

Eli tilted his head. “How else?”

Thalion’s expression warred between anger and disbelief. “You asked Morgaine to glamour you?”

“What? No.” Eli said, shocked. Did Thalion really not know? He stared at the elf, searching for something, but not finding it. “The other children.” He said eventually. ‘They love their pranks.’ He thought, not managing to force the words past his lips. What they did was too malicious to be called that.

Thalion growled. Actually growled. “They did what? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I thought you knew.” Eli blurted out unconsciously.

“You thought I’d let someone do that to you?” Thalion asked. He almost sounded hurt.

“I-… I don’t know. I thought you didn’t want to coddle us. I know we need to fight our own battles. We can’t rely on you forever.” He said, his throat suddenly feeling dry. His adoptive father was always so emotionless. He didn’t know how to deal with this version of him.

Thalion seemed at a loss. “Why can’t you?” He asked simply.

Eli’s mouth opened and closed. ‘Why indeed.” He thought. Thalion was immensely wealthy, and would most likely outlive them all. Conventional logic didn’t apply to their situation.

“It’s just-…” He continued after a while. “We don’t want to burden you.”

Thalion’s gaze softened. Extending a hand, he ran his fingers through Eli’s hair. “Perhaps you don’t want to burden me, Elias. Your sisters, I suspect, wish to be rid of me.” He took a shallow breath. “Regardless, you are no burden. Don’t concern yourself with such senseless things.”

“None of us want to leave.” Eli said on reflex, immediately recognizing his words for the lie they were.

Thalion turned his head toward the scenery outside the window. His gaze was far away. “I’ve done little to earn your sympathy. Your empathy, even less. It’s a gift I don’t deserve.”

Eli looked down at his shoes. “I don’t know. Perhaps you don’t, but…” He hesitated. “If you didn’t kill them... I probably would have. My parents and my... sisters.” His words were horrifying, but at the same time, he was convinced of their truthfulness. “That won’t happen anymore. And I’m grateful for that.”

He heard Thalion’s boots scraping the floor as he jerked, felt his eyes burning into the back of his head. “But my room is too close to theirs. I need you to move me somewhere else.” Eli raised his head, his expression the epitome of seriousness. “Somewhere more secure. A place I can’t break out of.”

Thalion’s eyes narrowed. “I’m not locking you up like an animal, Elias.”

“I’m already locked up!” Eli said, raising his voice involuntarily. The nervous breakdown he'd been repressing for years was suddenly all to close to the surface. “When I go to sleep, Mother locks my door from the outside. I asked her. I thought she’d told you.”

Thalion’s eyebrows furrowed. “The guards didn’t report this to me. It seems I’ll need to speak with them afterwards.”

Eli ran his hands through his hair. “Lately, I started drawing things. On the floor. On the walls. In blood. Words and symbols and gods-know what else I’ve never seen and I can’t understand.”

“Since when?” Thalion asked, his voice barely a whisper.

“A few weeks ago. That’s when we decided it was best to lock the doors and windows.” Eli said. “I woke up one morning, lying in the middle of… it. It looked like, like-… I don’t even know. But it’s not just random scribbles. There were bones too. Animal bones. I got out through the window. I-…” He shook his head, swallowing. “That’s what I think. I don’t remember any of it. When I’m asleep, I’m stuck inside those-…”

Thalion spoke, finishing his sentence for him. “Nightmares.”

Eli nodded, suppressing a shiver. For a moment, he said nothing, but then he took a deep breath. Some semblance of calm returned to his features. “It’s okay. I can deal with it. I will deal with it. And you’ll put me somewhere safe. So I-…” His throat caught on the word. Was that even him? “…can’t hurt anyone. And Beatrice and Licia and Belle can't find out. Because they can’t do anything. It’d just worry them needlessly.”

Thalion leaned forward, throwing one arm around Eli’s bare shoulders. He drew him against his broad chest. “You know my promise.” He said softly. “That nothing would happen to any of you. Not to your sisters, and not to you.”

“But if something does.” Eli said forcefully. “Then you need to please do what I ask. I don’t want you to kill me.” He added hurriedly. “I don't think that wouldn’t work. You need to stuff me somewhere I can't break out and forget about me.”

Thalion’s expression showed just how much that suggestion disturbed him. “Enough of this. Your mother should be in the garden. I’ll take you to her.” He said decisively, walking over to the door.

Eli caught the rim of his robe, not letting him go. “I know how insane and delusional I sound right now. You don’t think it’s that serious. Most likely, it isn’t and this is some obscure illness that’ll go away on its own. But promise me anyway.”

“I don’t think you’re insane, Elias.” Thalion said slowly. “But your mental state is clearly disturbed because of... this. Go spend some time with Morgaine. Calm down. After that, we'll speak again.”

Eli pursed his lips. Then he gave a sharp nod. “All right.” It was the most he’d get out of his father right now. There was nothing else to be done.

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