Chapter 33

The Sacred Seven of Heldra were a brotherhood of seven devout Clerics of the Titan Heldra who are said to have taken on an impossible task: to seal a gate to the depths of the Hells. The Sacred Seven died in the process, but they sealed the gate.

Day 329 Smeltesday

I was lucky that one of the Zenwel Mystagogues had folded my clothes and set them atop a table that had remained unmolested by the wave of slime. But I barely had enough of a mind to thank them for the kindness as I hurried to wipe off the slime with a towel one of the twins had offered me before dressing in just as much of a hurry. The two looked at me in confusion before turning to each other. 

“It was not meant as kindness.” stated Lucas as he straightened a stack of papers he had been looking over.

“It was more an action to keep the room orderly,” said Patrisha as she turned back to a holo-screen.

I winced as I took note of the layer of slime that covered much of the room. So much for orderly and clean, I thought to myself as I hurried to dress. I threw the instructors another hurried thanks before dashing from the room and rushed to make my way out of the Mage’s department of study. I could barely restrain myself from dashing to where I was due to meet Thallos that day.

Just out of the academy tower that held the Zenwels’ laboratory, I gave up all pretense of self-control. I sprinted from hall to hall, my footfalls barely making a sound, but I hadn’t the mind to notice that detail. Once I reached the obscured elevators, I stopped only long enough to wait for the doors to open, jogging in place because I couldn’t hold still with the brimming excitement and pride. I swiped my B.I.C over the scanner, and the mirrored space began descending to a predesignated level set by Thallos.

I tried to collect myself in the close confines of the descending car, but even after a breathing exercise I was twitchy, fidgeting with my tactical gauntlet and its many features, as well as the hilt of my veckenna at my side. I was brimming with eager anticipation to tell Thallos the news. My ability to use myst was finally useable, if only at a basic level.

The car slowed to a stop, and the doors slid open to grant access to a black-walled room. I stepped into the cubic room, only just barely holding myself back from skipping as I scanned about the large yet barren room. At the far end, in the back corner, I spotted my uncle and for the second time in less than half an hour, all self-control fled my mind as I made a mad dash to greet him.

Thallos’s back was towards me, but he smoothly turned to face me with a smirk painted across his lips. As I closed in, I shouted, “I’ve done it! I’ve finally done it!”

He raised a brow in question, and a figure stepped out from behind him. When I saw who it was, I lost my footing, tripped over my own feet, and rolled across the polished floor like a total fool before coming to a stop at the feet of Thallos and none other than Roserra Swiftpaw. I looked up at her in shock, having completely forgotten the possibility of her joining me in Thallos’s training.

“H-hey.” I stammered.

Rose smirked down at me. “Hey yourself, twinkle toes.”

I felt my face lit with a burning blush at the fool I had made of myself. I rolled over onto my chest and pushed myself to my feet. I dusted myself off, trying to salvage some semblance of dignity. 

“What’s got you rushing the dragon’s jaws, boy?” My uncle teased, his smirk growing wider.

I took a slow breath as I half-tried to hide a mad grin in the form of a thinly veiled smirk. “I’ve finally pulled it off. I figured out how to draw in myst and cast it with it.”

“Oh, yeah?” Thallos lured in a taunting question.

I held my hand up in display bearing the fresh bite mark that had only just stanched its bleeding on my way to meet Thallos. “I shorted out almost all of the Zenwel twins’ equipment.” My smirk grew wider with the statement.

“And why, pray-tell, would you do that?” Thallos pressed as he gave me a stern look down the bridge of his nose.

“Well, for one,” I held up a single finger on my wounded hand. “They’ve been using me as a guinea pig from the start. Second,” I raised another finger, “they had me strip buck-ass-naked for their test today.” I raised a third finger. “Then Mystagogue Lucas said I wasn’t going to live to see graduation, judging by my scars.” I raised a fourth finger, “And lastly, they threw me into a vat of chemicals, locked me in it, and forced me to breathe in the stuff so they could tell what type of caster I am.”

With each reason I stated, my uncle’s brows rose just a bit higher. When I finished, he leaned back and crossed his arms over his chest. “Well, damned be the names of The Seven if that’s not a good reason to cook some of their toys.”

Rose thumped my uncle across the side with the back of her hand. “Master Thallos! Don’t speak ill of the Sacred Seven of Heldra!”

He gave her a speculative look. “You, a Primal, a skilled warrior, are a Heldrain?”

Rose folded her arms under her bust and half turned away from him. “Hey, don’t judge. Since learning the reality of the Fractured Goddess, I’ve been looking around for a good faith. But enough about me. What’s this talk about scars and finally using myst?” She turned to look expectantly at me, waiting for answers.

I looked down at my feet in embarrassment. “Well, um, I hadn’t been able to use myst for anything after that first moment up until today.”

“You’re telling me you couldn’t cast even the smallest spell until today?” She asked in disbelief.

I gave a snort and quick nod of my head and she threw her hands in the air in a gesture of astonishment. “So, I’ve been jealous of you and honing my new skills for nothing.” She more stated than asked.

“Hey,” Thallos gently chided, laying a hand on her shoulder. “Training is never a waste. Now you know that you have more experience with magic than he does, so you can mentor him.”

She stayed half-turned from me for a few moments longer before she lowered her head and turned to look at me. I couldn’t tell what was in her gaze. Fatigue? Aggravation? Impatience? Pity? It could have been any of those, but which one was beyond my knowledge. Regardless, I felt a deep well of shame under the weight of that look.

She gave a heaving sigh before dropping the weighted gaze and asking me. “Then what’s this about scars and you dying before graduation?”

“About that…” Thallos started, but without a single word, I stripped off my shirt and jacket. Rose’s eyes went wide as she tracked her gaze up and down my chest and arms.

“What in the Hells did this?” She demanded, her tone angry and defensive. That tone brightened my spirits if only a bit.

I gave her an over-exaggerated shrug with a crooked smile. “One scar for every misstep and wrong answer. Yeah, stab training sucks, but it’s helped me improve at what I feel is an impressive rate.”

“Wait, stab training?” Rose asked in obvious confusion.

“Is that what you’ve been calling it?” Thallos queried with an amused smirk.

“Yep.” was the answer I gave to both of them.

“Wait.” Rose started as she pointed an accusatory finger at my uncle. “He did all that to you?”

“Yeah.” I stated with a simple shrug.

“But you look like you dove into an oversized blender!” She exclaimed.

I gave another shrug. “It’s not so bad once you get used to it. But now I have an impressive pain tolerance.”

She turned from me to Thallos and aimed the trajectory of her finger at me. “Is that what I get to look forward to?”

Thallos scrunched into an expression that said ‘kinda yes’ as he held his hand out flat and tilted it left and right in a gesture that said ‘so-so’. “Well, yes. But not to the same extent. Iver had a long way to climb to get where he’s at now. You are obviously more talented in combat than he is, so I expect that you will only have a fraction of the ones he got from combat training.”

“This is total madness.” Rose proclaimed.

“Like I said, it’s not so bad after you get used to it.” I chimed in.

“Get used to being stabbed? Iver, that is not something a sane and stable person says.” 

“Hey, I’m not going to chop you into kibble from the beginning. Like with Iver, I’ll start out slow and easy. Besides, we have a healer waiting on the sidelines, and once you’re patched up, I'll explain where you went wrong.” Thallos spoke with his hands as much as his words, making mock movements, pantomiming, and moving his hand in a slight downward chop every time he made a point to take note of. I had grown used to this. His active use of his hands while training and explaining things helped me grasp details faster by giving visual aids, if only in hand motions.

As the Wild Elf explained, Rose watched in with a look of total skepticism and disbelief. But nearing the end, she didn’t look so sure of her stance.

I stepped up to Rose to get her attention. “Hey, you told me yourself that Thallos was your hero. He’s only putting us through what he went through to become a legend, right?” I looked to my uncle for confirmation. He gave me a proud smile and a single deep nod of agreement. “Besides, he’s done this before with other trainees.” I pressed a hand against my chest. “And I vouch for the method, and you know where I started better than even Thallos. If he can get me to be a halfway decent fighter through this routine, imagine what you’ll be doing by the end of it.”

Rose’s expression went from on the fence about the idea to gradually shifting into begrudging understanding, but not total acceptance. So, I gave the last push. “Plus, he’s told you the truth about the Order, right? Sapient sacrifices to a heart-eating goddess. Do you really think that you can go back to your old training, knowing that you’re going to be working for a bunch of fanatic nut cases? I don’t know about you, Rose, but I want to work with the good guys and put an end to the madness.”

Rose’s arms dropped to her sides, and she heaved a sigh of obvious defeat. “Fine. I’ll give this a shot. But no promises.” 

The blade thrust towards my face with a vicious speed, forcing me to leap back to avoid losing an eye. As Rose pulled back her thrust, I dashed in, body low, and lashed out with a slash from my vekenna, aimed to pass from her hip to her opposite shoulder. Rose deflected the strike with her short sword, throwing my slash arcing away from her. Before I could retract my blade, Rose struck me in the head with a snap kick from her steel-toed boot. The blow landed on my horns, so the damage was minimal, but I was still driven back. I landed flat on my back, and the tigress took the opportunity to pounce atop me. As she leaped high into the air and positioned her short blade to run me through as she landed. At the peak of her jump, I rolled to my right and spun about to end in a crouch, facing where she would land, blade poised to strike. 

She saw the attack coming, so as she landed, she turned it into a roll, tumbling forward and avoiding the strike even as I lashed out. She rolled into a crouch and spun to face me. I sprung to my feet and rushed the Primal girl. I thrust my blade at her chest, but she parried the blow and fluidly shifted her defensive motion into a strike. I tried to pull my blade back to myself in time to deflect the slash, but I knew I was too slow. So, I did the one thing I could to manage the damage. I threw my weight backward. This prevented me from getting gutted, but I couldn’t get totally clear of the weapon. A weeping crimson line appeared through a slash in my now-ruined shirt.

My back struck the floor hard enough to jar my ribs, but thanks to training in falling properly, as strange as that sounds, I was able to take the hit without biting off my tongue or losing my senses. I took the momentum from the fall back to roll into a crouch. I jumped to my feet and flashed Rose a mad grin of triumph. 

Rose looked at me with confusion till she saw me wipe two of my fingers across the fresh cut and come away with a light painting of blood. I felt the power of charged myst in the smear of blood across my fingers and pulled the mental trigger. My hand lit ablaze with scarlet flames. I used my will to shape and project the raw elemental force into a stream of fire. Nothing lethal, just enough to singe her fur. Well, that was my intent. The result was a bolt of concentrated fire the size of a fist flew from my hand.

I watched Rose’s eyes go wide, and I expected her to throw up an ice wall in defense. Instead, she lunged to the side. I pulled more blood from the cut and tried again. Again and again, I threw the bolts as Rose sprinted and rolled out of the way of each shot while she circled me. I drew blood from my wound as fast as I could manage and even tried to squeeze it out when the wound staunched its weeping. When Rose saw I was out of blood to fling bolts at her, she came at me in a headlong sprint. I started back peddling as I tried to think of Plan B. When she flashed me a vicious smile of fangs, I did the first thing that came to mind. I drew the blade of my vekenna across the palm of my left hand. My hand lit with flames at the same moment Rose threw herself at me in a full-body pounce, aimed to take me to the ground.

I dropped my weapon and aimed to catch hold of her. The next few moments were a blur. I felt her make contact. My hands made contact with something soft that I didn’t think about at the moment. I rolled backward with her momentum even as I posted both my feet against her hips. The force of her leap carried her past me since she was planning on a collision and not me rolling with the motion. I saw the shocked look on her face even as I kicked her off me, slamming her into the floor again with a resounding THUD! 

I let the momentum from her attack that had transferred to me carry me rocking back. I rolled over my shoulder to land, standing on my knees. Spinning around to keep the wild-cat woman in my field of view, I stepped to my feet in the same smooth motion. Rose was in the middle of picking herself up off the floor. She clearly had not landed well. She shot me a murderous glare over her shoulder. “Really Iver? I know I let you get lucky, but this is taking it too far.” She scolded.

“What now?” I asked in complete puzzlement.

She turned to face me fully and gestured to her shirt. A perfectly shaped handprint was formed of scorched fabric to reveal a bare breast staring at me, the exposed fur blacked and crispy.

“You just ruined a perfectly good top and sports bra.” Rose went on.

“Shit!” I squeaked in panic. My face burned as hot as the flames on my hand. In total shame, I covered my face with my hands to give her some modesty.

“Oh, don’t be a baby, Iver. It’s a boob, big whoop. Now, stop roasting your face, and please fetch me my jacket.”

I peeked at her in confusion, only to see that I was peeking around a hand wreathed in fire. I pulled my hand away in panic. Moments later, I realized my face was fine, if a bit warm. I threw Thallos a look that conveyed my question.

The man in question was already on his way over with Rose’s uniform jacket. He was completely unphased by the sight of the bare breast, a testament to his firm-set masculinity and depth of wisdom. He walked up to me even as Rose closed in from the other side to meet him. Me, in the middle of the two, felt like a fledgling buck caught between two prowling wolves.

“Magic 101 kiddo, a caster can’t be harmed directly by their own cast fire. You can still drown in your own water, get crushed by your own stone, and get whisked away on your own gale. But Fire is an element that reacts to intent. At our very basest nature, we have developed an inherent control over what we allow your fire to feed on. For example,” He tossed the jacket underhand to Rose, who caught it and slipped into it but left it wide open. I found it very distracting. “You didn’t want to harm Rose beyond singeing her fur, so your fire only consumed her clothes and a bit of her fur.”

“Dick.” Rose muttered in response as she folded her arms and pointedly looked away from me.

“If you had wanted to cause actual harm, your flames would have taken to burning off her flesh.”

My eyes wandered of their own accord towards the bare breast, now partly covered. I forced my gaze to center back on Thallos as he spoke. “Why does Fire work that way?” I asked, trying to hone my focus on the discussion.

My uncle rolled his neck and pressed against it with one hand as he spoke, only half paying attention. “It wasn’t always this way. During the First Age, it would devour anything it came into contact with, sometimes that included the caster. It didn’t really start to change till around the late end of the Third Age. That’s about seven thousand years of natural evolution through the Casters to develop a safety control wired into our lizard brains.” As he lectured, I found my eyes edging over toward Rose again. This time, I gave in to the urge to look. Just a peek wouldn’t hurt. She did have really nice breasts, after all. So I stared at them, admiring the shape, color, and proportions, while a small part of myself wondered why I was admiring it all.

I was shaken out of my hypnotic state by a hand clenching my jaw in an iron grip and slowly but powerfully rotated my head to face forward again. Thallos was down at my eye level when I focused back on his face. “Don’t get distracted by free and wild fun bags, boy.” Thallos intoned his words with a power as immovable as his grip, a force that was not to be fought against, akin to the passing of time. My throat went dry from the look in his eyes, forcing me to audibly swallow, and I tried to nod vigorously in understanding.

“Mystagogue Kiem, what is it with boys and tits?” Rose asked, obviously baffled by the thought.

Without looking away from me, his gaze pinning me to where I stood, he answered. “Don’t blame boys for the interest. It’s a combination of base instinct and hormones. I know plenty of men my age who would act the same.”

“I still don’t get it. I mean, if he wants to stare, let him stare. I guess a well-muscled man's chest is something I could appreciate. I just don’t get all this need for modesty.” Rose started to sound frustrated.

I watch Thallos roll his eyes in exasperation before releasing me with a jerk toward face her.

“That’s because of your people’s culture, girl. Primals normally see little need for clothing outside of armor or environmental-specific articles of clothing. Most people of any of the other Sophic Species consider your people base and uncivilized. The Dracose have a perspective very similar to Primals, but get less trouble for it because of the difference in anatomy.”

“Oh, I know.” She huffed in aggravation. “I just don’t get why.”

“Here.” Thallos’s tone was patient and gentle as he stripped off his own shirt. “What do you see that’s different between you and me?”

Rose gave him a look that said just how stupid she thought the question was. “Breasts.” She gave an exasperated answer.

“Other than breasts. That’s a difference between genders, not species.”

Rose rolled her eyes before she answered again with “Fur.”

“You hit the target dead center. Other species started using clothing as a way to keep warm or keep the sun off their skin. Primals have fur for that purpose. When High Elves found your people, they found your culture primitive almost solely because of the lack of modesty. That’s why they enslaved your people. To other species, your people were little better than animals with thumbs, meaning you would make fine labor animals. For a long while, you were only equal to the plow ox or cart horse.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Rose droned. “And then my people learned a native language somewhere, and that brought into question whether we were people or not.”

Thallos pointed at her in confirmation. “A pack of Wolfkin picked up Lerrian, the then-dominant language in the nation of Terall. They taught it to other Primals till they were able to speak out against their treatment.”

“And that sparked a war that eventually led to our freedom.” Rose said this as if she had heard the story a thousand times.

“Actually, it got worse before it got as far as war. You went from animals with thumbs to slaves who could take complicated orders and perform more kinds of work. But one thing that I bet you didn’t know was that a lot of the Human people worked to free Primals.”

“What?” Rose’s head, which had been drifting off into thought, snapped to Thallos.

“Yep. This was around the time that humans were working out the theory of evolution. Learning that Humans came from Apes answered a question that had been on the enter peoples’ minds for ages, ‘Where did they come from?’ Learning that, it didn’t take much of a leap to think of Primals as deviant evolution of other animals.”

“I hadn’t heard of that bit.” Rose admitted, clearly fascinated. I was hooked on Thallos’s lesson myself.

“Well, at the time, Dwarves and Elves knew that they came fully formed from the hands of Gods, the Dracose were a product of design by the dragons, Ceangar had no interest in learning their origins at the time, and Gnomes were a fairly recent addition to our world. But seeing a kinship with your people, Humans worked in secret to orchestrate the freedom of many Primals.”

“Why have I never heard this? And why, then, are Humans some of the worst people to discriminate against us?”

Thallos suddenly looked immensely exhausted, the tone of his next words only confirming the image. “Not two Human generations after the Rebellion of the Broken Sheers, a Human radical group whose name has been lost, destroyed all records of Human aid, and stirred hatred in the hearts of others for your people. One of their key points they leaned on was how Primals didn’t wear clothes at the time unless made to by their masters. Clothes were a sign of enslavement, and Primals loathed them. But after Primals became officially recognized as a Sophic Species, there was still mistreatment over the lack of modesty. Eventually, those Primals that lived in mixed-species towns and cities gave in and took to wearing clothes just so they simply wouldn’t be jeered at or mistreated on sight.”

Rose spat on the ground in disgust. “That’s why I need to be covered around here? Back home, I just had to wear pants. But that was a Mix-Primal community.”

Thallos took a deep breath and pressed his hands to his lower back as he arched it, eliciting a series of pops and cracks. “I think that’s it for the day. Go ahead and get out of here. And that means you too, Tessa.”

At his words, the little Gnome who had been sitting against a wall nearby, clearly enraptured by the lesson as well, popped to her feet, gathered her things, and headed straight for the elevator, heading up without waiting for me and Rose.

I jogged to catch up to Rose as she buttoned closed her jacket while she made her way back to her bag and the weapons rack. “I really am sorry about the shirt… and bra,” I quickly added. “And the staring.” With that, I looked away, scared to see anger in her eyes.

“Hey, Ive’,” Her tone wasn’t tinged with anger of any sort. In fact, it was normal, like before we had had that blowout fight. I looked up to find her eyeing me with a question in those yellow-green eyes.

“Yeah?” I asked as I hung up my vekenna and pulled a fresh t-shirt free from my own bag.

“What do you do when your clothes get burned up or turned to mulch?”

A grin of pure joy split my face as I answered. “I have a gadget to fix my clothes. If you want, you can borrow it.” I pulled my sweat-drenched and slashed shirt off myself.

“Really?”

“Totally.” I confirmed with enthusiasm. “You see some of my scars?” I gestured to my chest and arms. “That was at least one a day for the past five months. Most of the time, it was more than once. Plus, some of the scars grew over older scars, so I’d say I would have about a quarter more than what you see if he hadn’t stabbed or slashed or burned me over an older one.”

Rose stared at my body as I picked up my fresh shirt and pulled it on. Before she tore her eyes from my bare skin, I thought I saw something in them. I hoped it was appreciation, but I doubted it. I had muscle, sure. Over the course of my training, I had to develop it. I had to strengthen myself to get this far. But I didn’t look like the wall of steel pecs and granite abs she was talking about appreciating earlier. The number of scars I had probably horrified her.

I didn’t like others seeing them most of the time. I was so ashamed of how many I had that I wore my uniform jacket at all times when I was outside of my room. Even when I dressed in casual attire, I wore a jacket. That was fine for this season, the end of autumn and at the cusp of winter. But I would have to keep the facade up during summer, and I was pretty sure everyone was going to look at me like I was mad for wearing a jacket in ninety-degree weather.

Rose was the first one to see, other than Tessa, what I had been hiding for months now. I felt like she thought I was a freak. So many scars meant I wasn’t skilled enough to evade or deflect the strikes. They were a sign of how weak I was.

I reached for my jacket but paused at the sight of the scar in the center of my right hand, passing through my palm to the back of the hand. I stared at it for a long moment, thinking about where I would have been if I hadn’t taken this path. Then I noticed Rose watching me with a look of... something. She wasn’t the kind to worry about me, and despite that last interaction, I knew we weren’t back to where we were before. I snatched up my jacket in a vicious motion and pulled it on with more force than was needed. 

Rose turned back to her bag and finished packing. I hurried to gather my things before making a beeline for the elevators. I called the elevator car down, bouncing my heel impatiently as I waited, arms crossed over my chest and bag slung over one shoulder. After a moment, Rose stepped up beside me. I hadn’t even heard her draw near. Awkward energy radiating from her so potently I could feel it. I didn’t dare look at her to see what the cause of the feeling was. I knew I was the source if it all, though. Me and my damned scars of weakness. I chewed the skin from my lower lip in an effort to resist the desire to give in and look at her.

“So,” she started, her words rang with a tentative air that she tried to hide. “Mystagogue Kiem told me something.”

“He’s just my uncle. You can just call him Thallos.” I stated with chilled words.

“Right, Thallos, your uncle, told me that he only took me on as an apprentice because you asked it of him.”

“So?” I asked, trying to keep the venom from my words. I still didn’t dare to make eye contact with her. I wouldn’t be able to take the look in her eyes, be it pain, pity, or disgust. 

“Well, um, I, I wanted to thank you. For telling him I was up to the challenge.” Even her words were awkward as she spoke. My eyes flicked to the side on which she stood, but I only caught a fidgeting shape before I brought my eyes back to center.

“I only mentioned you. I told him that you would have made a better student than me.” My voice rang hollow with the lie.

“Oh, yeah?” Some of Rose’s signature bravado seeped back into her voice. “Your uncle said that you were almost on your knees begging to have him take me on.”

“I was not begging.” I defend abstinently.

“He said you wouldn’t leave him alone about it. After every training session, he said you would bring it up.” She teased. I could hear the smirk in her words.

I turned to her with seething frustration at her goading. I held myself back from snapping and showing her how much she was getting to me. She was enjoying my reactions, so I played it up a bit. “Why do you need to press the topic?” I hissed, my fists clenched at my sides. “Yes, I pressed for him to take you on. Yes, I asked him day after day.” As I pressed on through my words, I found that less of it was an act than I liked. “I pushed, and I pushed,” I emphasized each ‘push’ with a rising and lowering of my white-knuckled fists. “And I did it because I felt like a fraud.” As tears rose to my eyes, I found I was spewing nothing but emotional honesty. The floodgates had opened, and I could not close them. “I only got the role as a student under my uncle because I was kin and a fluke of nature that lets me bleed fire.” I lifted my eyes to look into hers. In her eyes, I saw shock, curiosity, and, worst of all, pity. 

I threw my arms down by my sides, hands as limp as the fight left me. “Rose, I would have picked you over myself every time.” I turned away from her in shame. “You are ten times the warrior I am, ten times more agile than me, and subtle where I am little more than a raging bull. I only took up this position because I was offered. I was given the chance to climb the ladder and I’ve pushed myself to such a point I’m left to question whether or not I’m on the right path.” I ranted, tears streaming down my face. What triggered this? Why am I spilling my guts for the girl I liked? It was just another expression of weakness. What in the Nine Hells was I doing?

“Iver? Are you ok?” she asked tentatively. I could see the worry in her eyes, the pity that burned my soul.

I took a deep breath and wiped the tears from my eyes and cheeks with the back of my scarred hand. I knew Thallos had seen my outburst, but I didn’t have the strength to look back at him. “There Rose. You have seen my deepest weakness that has plagued my mind.” I hissed. I stepped away from her, hiding my hands in my armpits even as I curled in on myself. It was only in those following moments of silence that the elevator car came to the floor, opening silently save for the swoosh of sliding doors. 

I stepped in as fast as I could, quietly hoping Rose wouldn’t dare to follow. As I moved to hide in the corner, I silently and vehemently prayed that Rose would not join me in the enclosed space. But I could feel the moment she stepped into the car. As the doors slid closed, I pressed my horns into the farthest corner of the space, trying in vain to hide my shameful outburst. I heard her swipe her B.I.C over the sensor with a beep.

“So now you’ve seen this mess that is me.” I muttered. “You’re welcome to mock me for being weak. I know I went a bit mad lich in that venting.” I felt her shadow looming over me and readied myself for a mocking and scathing the like of which Mallrimor could only dream of.

“Weak?” she asked, her tone soft and gentle. “Iver, you call me ten times the warrior you are, but you just laid your heart wide open in a way that would have me die of fear at the thought.” I felt a clawed hand fall upon my shoulder. “You have the courage to tell me your honest feelings even after I nearly bit your head off out of jealousy. And you still convinced your uncle to take me on even after a literal cold snap.” I glanced over my shoulder at her shape. Rose, normally taller than me, was smaller than me in that moment. Her eyes were cast downward, her shoulders slouched and narrow. 

“Iver, do you still have feelings for me? Even after my outburst?” She muttered from her stooped position, her hair masking her face in a wall of copper.

“What’s it matter?” I snapped in a harsh murmur.

“Would you be willing to let me think on the idea? I’ve never had anyone show interest in me on… that front. You’re a good friend who has done me no wrong. In fact, you worked to get me the position I’ve been fighting for since day one. I just need time to think about what I want.” 

My head shot up, turning to face her as quick as a reflex. “What?!”

“Y-you heard me, horn boy.” She stammered. “Just give me time to think. You’re a good guy with talent and skill that I can respect. You have fought for me even after I lashed out at you. And…” She trailed off.

“And what?” I pressed.

“And nothing.” She muttered as she turned her head aside, her river of copper hair shimmering in the elevator's light, her ears pressed flat to her skull. 

“Come on, Rose, you were about to say something.” I pressed.

“And you are a courageous piece of shit, alright! You kept coming back after Mallrimor, even after he kicked your ass ten times over. You never fucking gave up, and I can respect that determination, alright!”

I couldn’t help but give her a smile of hope and kindness when she dared to meet my eyes.