Chapter Text
In a symphony of darkness, pale light shone upon the ghostly streets of Atlasdam,
Dragging his feet, Therion slid through the streets. His stomach growled and turned, his steps lacking a certain weight. Therion had grown used to the bitter and chilling nights, but never the hunger.
The surroundings blended, aged grass with moss upon agate and limestone. But like a jewel in mines, one house stood out. Complex architecture adorned with more lumber than stone. His eyes naturally drew over the place, until he noted a small opening beneath a window.
He leapt as much as his body would allow him, the slight shift of bricks beneath him and the creaking of wood, until he reached the window. His body swayed as he scampered onto the windowsill. He delicately lifted the window from its place, before tumbling into the house.
Unease and dread set over Therion as he realized the house was shrouded in blackness. No lanterns burned, no kindling in any fireplaces. Still, he could make out his surroundings. A stairwell laid ahead. Though his feet barely graced the floor, the boards still creaked. His focus continued to wander as he noticed notes and books scattered about the place. He simply followed the walls and eventually found a kitchen pantry.
His stomach growled and Therion reached for a loaf of bread immediately. Chomping down on the yeast, though it was somewhat stale. He took a bite of an apple, the crunch echoing throughout the empty house, juice seeping into his mouth. It tasted like a gourmet meal to his hunger-dulled body.
His hairs stood on end, freezing at the sound of a small click. The roaring crackle of fire presented itself behind him and uncomfortably, the cold was expelled with a brush of warmth.
Crap.
“I would not bore you with formalities, so would you kindly explain why you are in my kitchen’s pantry?” A posh voice asked. Therion turned around to see a man.
He wore dark robes and a waistcoat, both of which flared out and were embellished with gold. Though that weighed down most, his stockings and white shirt seemed to give a bit more maneuverability. His hair was darkened and messy, with one long strand of hair going down his back as a ponytail. His hand was lit up by a flame, which blazed brightly.
Therion moved instantly. He slid underneath the man, rolling back onto his feet, when a chilling gale stretched across the room, with pointed cyan splintering in shards. It stretched up to the ceiling, unbelievably thick that Therion could see nothing through it.
“I asked a question, and I would like an answer.” The man politely asked again, though there was an element of irritation in his voice.
Therion felt his throat tighten and a breath forced itself out as he raised his hands. “I was hungry. Haven’t eaten in a while.” Therion turned back to the man, who’s brow had quirked. The fire was still burning bright in his hand. “Please don’t kill me.” Therion quietly added.
The man frowned. “My apologies. I did not mean to scare you.” The man began to light lanterns. “You mentioned being hungry, yes?” As if on cue, Therion’s stomach churned. “Well, I haven’t made my meal yet, so I would be happy to make something for you as well.”
Therion looked the man up and down for any weaknesses. “What’s the catch?”
The man chuckled, as if he found it funny. “There is no catch. I simply-“
“I don’t believe that. Everyone wants something. There’s always a price.” His whole body become tight and unresponsive. The man looked remorseful.
“If there has to be a price, let’s settle for the price of your company.” The man walked over to his stove, lighting it. “Ah, I have not introduced myself yet. I am Cyrus, of Atlasdam’s royal academy.” The man beamed.
“…Therion.” Therion hesitantly introduced himself.
“Well Therion; Do you like pasta?”
Therion never thought he would go rabid for pasta.
The stringy noodles slid down his throat in large portions, spiced to deliciousness. He didn’t know what this Cyrus put in the sauce, but it left with a slightly tangy aftertaste. The texture was soft and so nicely rolled off his tongue. It was a taste explosion, before he took another excessively large spoonful and the taste replayed over again-
“Would you like to tell me something about yourself?” Cyrus interjected. The feeling and muscles in Therion faded, as heat rose to his head. Of course, he wasn’t alone. The bowl was placed down on the table with a clang and he wiped his face.
“…not really.” Therion harshly admitted. The smile slipped off Cyrus’ face and he looked down.
“Well! Then I shall tell you something about myself!” The vigor reignited in Cyrus. Therion had a feeling that this was going to be long, but he didn’t really have a say in the matter. “I am a Professor at the Royal Academy of Atlasdam!” His eyes became rosy and his face wrinkled softly. His posture straightened, making him loom over Therion. Therion’s eyes drew back towards the golden embellishment.
“Fancy.” Therion stated, trying to show some level of interest.
“It is not about my reputation. I wish to spread knowledge to all eager scholars! For knowledge is the greatest gift we have been given. Our ability to learn, to piece together the world around us is nothing short of a miracle.”
A chuckle tore from his throat. “I didn’t have a professor like you pegged as religious.”
“I may have an interest in the church’s origins, but I am not one of Aelfric’s faithful. Miracles are not a grand singularity of fate. They are more real; they hold a presence. And like any presence, it can be influenced.” Cyrus softly explained. “Ah, but I ramble. What is your view on miracles?”
Therion’s body immediately shuddered, the silent air in the room becoming unbearably loud. “I don’t think miracles are all they’re cracked up to be.” Therion felt his nails scratch at the table as he dug into it. He let out a deep breath. Therion was here. This was real. “You should close your windows.” Therion chastised, going back to picking at his pasta.
“You’d make an excellent scholar.” Cyrus stated out of the blue, shocking Therion. “You’re observant for one. You noticed that my window was open, even in the darkness. I assume that’s how you got in? If so, you can apply knowledge to provide practical solutions”
Therion felt the laughter, it rocked his entire chest. Tears rolled from his eyes as he laughed and he could barely breathe. “Ok-ok. That was hilarious.” Therion noticed the awkward silence afterwards, the discomfort on Cyrus’ face. “Oh, you’re serious.”
“Why wouldn’t you be?” Cyrus genuinely asked.
“Because I’m a thief? Because I’m not of noble birth? Because I am not worth having around more than any of the fancy people who live in Atlasdam, or Noblecourt, or the like.”
“Well, I think you are. My short experience with you has proven you to be brilliant and intelligent. If you were to try, I would vouch for you.”
Therion knows he should say no. It wouldn’t work out. He doesn’t have the brains, or the social status or even the will to thrive, instead of the grit to survive. He’s never been one to sit back and observe. Always moving. Always acting. If he didn’t move, he’d be caught. If he didn’t act, he’d starve.
“I’ll consider it.” Therion responds coolly, though the response comes out far more friendly.
“Brilliant! Well, I must inform you of the academy. Now, the academy itself-“
The haze of memory drifted off. Blinking and taking in his surroundings, Therion scanned the area. Rich and royal curtains adorned the enormous windows, with a golden chorus breaking through and casting hazy rays. It refracted off the polished floors, making a mirror of the room. Smoothed marble made up the walls. Therion let out a deep and shaky breath, before digging his fingertips into his desk, grounding himself in his surroundings.
“-many kingdoms have risen, great and powerful. They have burnt to ash in the same breath. But no matter the tempest of change, a constant has remained in Orsterra’s history. Now, could anyone name this constant?” Cyrus paused, patient as he waited for a response. “Therese?”
If Therion had to describe Therese, she was a people pleaser. She hung her head low, concealing herself beneath flowing silver. Her posture was narrow and rigid, her voice quiet and often slipping into mumbles. Her eyes were distant. Yet every day she came to this stuck-up academy. She nodded along in conversation.
“The Church of the Sacred Flame, Professor?”
Cyrus nodded in approval. “That is correct, Therese! The Church of the Sacred Flame has held an important impact on Orsterran history, ever since…” Cyrus paused his rambling, his face crinkling in thought. “But what do we know of the origins of the church?”
The air became thicker and Therese’s posture stiffened. “…they were from Flamesgrace?”
“Ah, that is unfortunately incorrect.” Therese bent down, resting against her arms on the desk. Therion felt some level of bad for the poor girl, but not bad enough to really care. He hesitantly raised his hand. “Therion?”
“I believe the original Church was in the Woodlands?” Therion knew this. He knew it. It was one of the few things he had learned. He knew this…right? Blood pumped through his veins as his pulse became heavy. His hairs stood on end as he felt the phantom lingering of gazes upon him. His fingers stung as they dragged across the desk.
“Indeed it is the Woodlands.” Therion relaxed, exhaling. “Approximately 1500 years ago, the foundations of the Sacred Flame’s Church were laid in the Northern Regions of the Woodlands. 100 Years later, they learn of the existence of the Sacred Flame, then begin to spread to the rest of Orsterra. Much of their doctrine-“
A soft thud hit his chair, causing it to rumble. Therion turned to Mary (Princess Mary. Or Your Highness. Everyone said he should refer to her by title, to show respect. It’s far more proper, especially for lowborn scum such as himself.)
Mary herself had long hair, kissed by the sun itself. Parts of her hair had been pulled into brands, tidy strands. She wore a flourishing white dress, adorned with gold embellishments. Her status demanded that she looked proper, that she was sanitized. But all this effort could never dim the spark in her eyes. Eyes of piercing green, like rolling fields. Betraying her true passion for her people, her true dedication to learn and protect. To be something more than another queen in the history of Atlasdam.
“How did you know that?” Mary asked, curious.
“A ‘please’ would be nice.” Therion quipped back.
“Humble Apologies, Sir Therion. Might you please tell me the answer?” Mary teased.
“Cy- Professor has been talking about it non-stop. He got his research approved by Yvon.” Therion explained.
“So, they existed before the concept of the Sacred Flame?”
“If what we know is to be believed. Unfortunately, the original church has faded from-“
“Therion! Your Highness!” The two turned back to face Cyrus, who was glowering at the two. “If you had such profound thoughts about the ritual of the Flamebearer, then perhaps you could share them with the whole class?”
Therion tried to keep calm, but he felt Cyrus’ glare on him. He did not know this. A couple beats passed. Yep, Therion was done for-
“The Flambearer’s ritual is called the kindling is it not? It happens roughly every 20 years, in which they travel to reignite the three major flames in Flamesgrace, Goldshore and Saintsbridge. There is a common myth that in past times, the journey was carried out by a ghost, who sacrificed their blood and soul to the flame. Now however, it is merely a legend.” Mary eloquently responded.
“That is correct your Highness. Though I would encourage you both to pay more attention.” Cyrus returned to his teaching.
“Thanks for bailing me out.” Therion whispered.
“Stop talking before we have to answer another question.” Mary hissed.
Cyrus continued to detail the history of the Church, as well as the development of Darkwood. “Ah, but we have run out of time. I will see you all next lesson, where will talk about Victors Hollow. Remember to read your textbooks on the Greenwood!”
Everyone quickly raced out of the classroom, Therion went to leave, when he felt someone kick the back of his leg. He turned around to see Mary. His eyebrows raised.
“Meet me at the usual spot?” Mary asked. Therion hummed in agreement. “See you there, Therion!” She happily sauntered away, leaving Therion behind.
“Wait, what time?!?!” Mary simply waved back. Therion sighed. Never a dull moment at the academy…
Like an oil painting, the sky was composed of rouged pinks, glazed oranges and honeyed yellows. Purple and pewter swirled around, like a mist. It bathed the castle, built with ivory bricks, aging with oxidized blues in warm rays of light. Sparkling specks of dust floated, making the leaves shimmer, aglow. Therion snuck through sun-kissed grass and scampered up castle walls.
Echoing murmurs of guards as they swapped stories and posts was the only noise, aside from the rustling whisper of the wind. Therion continued his ascent through the castle, until he reached a far-off balcony. Mary rested against the banister, staring off into nothing. Therion climbed onto the railings and Mary turned to him, jumping a little. She quickly composed herself.
“You’re late.” She simply said, causing Therion to roll his eyes.
“If you wanted me to show up earlier, you should have specified a time.” Therion responded, false irritation in his voice. Mary simply laughed. “What’s so funny?”
“It’s always fun to see you try to play the suave thief. We both know you’re anything but.” Therion felt a pang of hurt at that comment.
“I am a thief, so I think your wisdom eludes you.” Therion responded in cynical jest.
“You’re the brains of the operation, Therion. I’m the brawn!” Mary flexed muscles that she didn’t have, giggling as she did.
“I’d say it’s the opposite. Although I am brainy. And suave.” Therion quickly amended.
“And modest too.” Mary responded, a mocking tone of voice.
“Teaching you sarcasm was one of my greatest mistakes.” Therion dryly responded.
“I’m sure that the twelve will forgive your transgressions.” Therion sat on the balcony railings, dangling his legs over the edge. Mary went back to leaning against them, a dour expression on her face as her presence became distant.
“Somethings wrong.” Therion noted. It had become easy to tell when something with Mary was off, after having known her for such an extended period. Mary turned back to face him and let out a heavy sigh.
“There’s been a recent spike in crime recently. Sightings of dark robed ruffians. Robbing places, threatening people…many of Atlasdam’s less fortunate are terrified. Meanwhile, the guards barely have a lead. Doesn’t help that they seem to be dismissive of the entire issue.”
“So, you’ve stepped into detective shoes.” Therion inquired.
“I cannot ignore the suffering of my people. They not only need help, they deserve it. If no one else shall be their aid, then I would take up the mantle.” Mary proclaimed.
“You always were selfless. It’s true what they all say, you’ll make a good Queen.” Therion voiced. Mary smiled.
“Thank you. But anyway, I have reason to believe that these criminals have made camp outside the city walls. Loathe as I am to say it, however, I cannot hunt them down alone.”
“You need my help.” Mary nodded. “Yeah, no dice.”
Mary’s expression became more distraught. “Please, Therion. Those people are enduring such misery. I cannot leave them be.” Mary pleaded.
“That’s…not my problem. I’m not sticking my neck out like that. It’s too risky.” Therion coldly explained.
“Therion…” Mary looked as if she wanted to say something, but she simply stopped. Then, determination came to her face. “I may not be capable, but I will be going. With, or without you.” Mary asserted.
Therion paused, tapping his fingers against the railings. Eventually, he just huffed out a large breath. “Fine, I’ll help.” Mary looked elated. “Before you thank me, we’ll be playing by my rules. Don’t do anything stupid.”
Mary swallowed her excitement, though it still broke through. “Alright, let’s do this!” Therion couldn’t help but frown. This was such a bad idea.
Where the sky was once an array of colour, it was now grim, only a mix of blues and blacks. Shining white dots broke through the endless night and lantern light illuminated the way, but it was still difficult to make anything out at all in the lower Atlasdam flats.
“Ok, they should be right here.” Mary said. Even in the extreme darkness, Therion could see a small camp. He made a small hand gesture, before turning to Mary, who looked confused. Right, she didn’t know any kind of signals. She wasn’t a thief.
She wasn’t his partner.
…snap out of it Therion. “They’re here.” Therion said, his nails digging into his fists.
“Right, so what’s the plan?” Mary questioned. Therion tried to make out the layout.
“Stay close to me. Remember what I taught you of stealing?” Mary nodded. “Try and disarm them, I’ll take them down quietly. I know you’re a fan of ice magic, but we don’t know how many of them there are. Too risky to tackle it head on. Try and find the big boss. If we can threaten him into leaving, then all the thieves will follow.” Therion curtly explained, snuffing out the lantern they had and placing it on the ground.
“Sounds easy enough.”
“It always sounds easier than it is. Just keep your guard up.” Therion walked towards the camp, slowly and crouched. He made sure to keep his placement quiet, keeping a keen watch for his surroundings. He also listened intently for any noise behind him, ensuring Mary stayed safe.
Eventually, they were upon the makeshift camp. He heard the cocky revelry of the thieves. Mary did say that they had been stealing. Thieves always celebrated after a mark. He held up his fist, causing Mary to stop. She was learning quickly.
He saw one of the thieves break from the group. He snuck forward, Mary trailing behind. Once close enough, Therion wrapped one of his arms around the thief, causing him to slowly lose breath. The other hand covering his mouth. He reached for the knife at his side, but Mary swiped it from his belt. The man fell unconscious without much of a struggle and Therion dragged his body into the darkness. Mary discarded the knife.
Slowly, they made their way through the camp, repeating this process on stragglers. Therion noted they all wore darkened robes, colored like charcoal. The robes obscured every part of their body and they wore masks to hide their faces. Therion was half tempted to tear the masks off them, see who they really were.
Eventually, they came across a pair. Therion knew he wouldn’t be able to take down both at once. “You have to choke one of them out, Mary. Think you can do that?” Therion questioned, his voice a whisper.
“I think so. I’ve been watching closely, so I should pick it up.” Mary affirmed. With a nod, the two snuck forward. Therion swiped the knife from his belt, before moving into the chokehold. The guy collapsed, unconscious. He turned around to see Mary. She had the right technique but struggled to exert enough strength.
The man slung his elbow into her stomach. She winced and let out a yelp of pain. Therion punched the guy it the face, causing him to stumble. He then tightened his arms around his neck, rendering him out cold.
“You ok?” Therion asked quietly.
“Yeah.” Mary responded. It looked like the guy hit her pretty bad, but it seemed she just had the wind knocked out of her. A quick break would give her a recovery-
“Did you guys hear something?” At the scuffling of feet, Therion grabbed Mary’s wrist, rushing back into the darkness haphazardly. Flamelight flickered as the thieves gathered around the unconscious bodies.
“We’re not alone. Spread out.” One of them said. They drew their daggers and began their search. Therion quickly looked around for the fastest escape route that would keep Mary out of sight.
“Mary, you need to go.” Therion warned, voice even quieter than before.
“No. I am not leaving until we’ve driven out these bandits. I will not abandon you or my people.” Mary resolutely responded.
“…ok. Be ready for a fight.” Therion then drew his dagger, racing forward at one of the bandits. He jabbed it directly into the man’s shoulder. He then grabbed the man’s head, slamming it into the ground while he was off-guard, knocking him unconscious.
At the sound, several people turned. Therion readied to attack them. “It’s him!” One of them shouted. Therion was caught off-guard by this, when one of them ran at him. He grabbed the hand that held the knife, twisting it as he slashed at the man’s chest repeatedly.
Another man rushed at him. Therion twirled, yanking the first man’s wrist, bringing the two men together with force, then pushing a knife into the leg of the second. As the man stumbled, Therion kicked the knife, causing a cut and the man to howl in pain.
Yet another hooded brigand raced towards him, a wall of ice pierced the ground, a haze of pristine cyan. Therion turned back to see frosty wind fade from Mary’s hands. He gave an affirming nod, before turning back to the thieves at hand.
One more brigand rushed towards him, knife still in their hilt and prepared to parry. Therion clicked his fingers, as a rushing warmth overtook him. Flames flickered at the edge of his hand. As he tried to make the spark grow into a wildfire, one of the thieves grabbed him from behind, a tight grip as they picked him up from the ground.
Therion tussled with the thief, who tightened their grip and attempted to slam him into the ground. The fire at his fingertips drew too close and Therion felt the sizzle on his skin. Therion and the thief then tumbled onto the ground. Therion took a dagger concealed under his poncho, stabbing it into the man’s chest. He tumbled out of the way as shards of ice pierced into the man’s ribs.
Therion stood up, before being slammed into one of the tent walls. He was now face to face with one of the thieves. Though it may be a trick of the light, they had deep blue eyes. Black hair waved across their face, obscuring it. However, the thing Therion noticed was the hood, a soft purple. It was different to the hoods everyone else wore, this seemed to be the leader.
Therion tried slipping out of the thief’s grip, but the man kept him pressed against the tent as he drew his knife and began to shallowly cut at Therion. With no choice left, Therion clicked his fingers. Fire flickering again, he set it against the tent behind him, causing it to catch and burst into flames.
At the stranger’s surprise, Therion kicked him away. The two tumbled into the ground. Therion rolled and grounded himself on his knees, the thief standing and dashing off. Therion began to charge the embers in his hands, preparing to launch it. Heat enveloped his skin, it burned slightly. He still felt where his own fire caught upon him.
The lick of flames…burning…screaming…he shuddered, and the magic faded from his hands as the leader fled into the darkness, obscured by the veil of night. Therion let out a heavy sigh as he came back to reality.
“Therion! Therion, are you alright?” Mary asked, concerned. Therion gave a light nod, feeling himself scowl.
“Let’s get out of here before we draw any unwanted attention. It’s late, besides.” Therion began to trudge off, with Mary following behind him. Though ultimately unsuccessful, Therion hoped this would be enough to deter the thieves from Atlasdam.
“Shouldn’t we chase that one thief, who escaped?”
“We need to cut our loses. Pursuing him into the night will do us no good. It’s time to go.” Therion somberly explained.
“…thank you, Therion. You’re a good person.” Mary commented, grateful. It caught Therion off-guard, but he just sighed.
“You’re welcome. Just don’t do this again.” The two headed for Atlasdam walls, ready to put this behind them.
Therion feels the weight of fabric, waving against the flow of winds. His body feels weak against the ground, all strength sapped. A shiver runs up his spine, fear runs through his veins in place of blood. The only thing below was clouds, shrouding the sheer depth of the drop.
In front of him, stood the incarnation of his pain. His heart hurt and his chest squeezed tight. He felt so damn tired, but refused to breathe, even a sigh. Every word was agony, when placed in front of this terrifying figure. A dark, cruel smirk and a waving and tattered cloak, the once comforting green now sickly.
“You’re worth less than the scum ‘neath me daisies, and I’ll prove it!” A knife then pierces his skin.
His flesh tears and blood beginning to seep from the wound, dripping down his body leaving a trail of red. He tumbles back, grazing his body as he falls from the cliff. The wind rushes past his ears and wildly blows his hair as he does, screaming at him as he falls in a loud whistle.
The echoing laughter that chases him down the chasm sounds unnatural, it frightens him. He shudders and shakes, but it’s small. He has no energy, he’s merely a drop in the flow of a river. It does not matter this his heart has been pierced to pieces, that his body is draining and in immense anguish.
The life of Therion ends as it began, shrouded in smoke and anguish.
Therion sits up with a start. His breath is rushed and heavy as it tears from his throat, entangled with sobbing. Warms tears trail down his face, his eyes watery. His grip on the bedsheets is tight, yanking the soft surface into a crumpled heap in his arms. He can feel the paleness of his face and the lack of energy from his entire body.
His past trails, it chases him. He is never able to outrun it. Instead, it clings to him, drags him back through the dregs of misery and pain. He doesn’t know why he thought he could be anything else. Therion is not more than what he once was. He’s not more than anyone else.
He wants to scream. He wants to run. He wants to do anything other than keep crying; because he shouldn’t be crying. It’s such an old wound, one that should have healed. How does it still hurt, even now? Why does it bring such feelings forth-
“Therion?” The door has creaked open silently and a figure has entered in its wake. Judging by the voice, Cyrus. “What’s the problem, Therion? Are you alright?” Cyrus asked, weakly. He probably already knew the answers.
“N-nothing.” Therion choked out. He could feel the disappointed frown from Cyrus.
Cyrus just approached, calmly sitting down by the edge of the bed. “We both know that isn’t the truth. Therion, I cannot help you unless you tell me-“
“I don’t want your help!” Therion shouted out, voice watery. Cyrus quickly recoiled and Therion felt immediate guilt creeping up him and latching on to the pain he was already feeling. “Sorry. I just – I – well…” Therion struggled to find the words.
“Don’t push yourself to speak, Therion. We have all the time you need.” Cyrus reassured, voice gentle. “How about this. I’ll make some tea, that way you have some time to think on what to say.” Therion just gave a quick, small series of nods. “Ok.”
Therion say there, trying to think of words. But it just drew Therion back to the vivid memories of it all, which Therion immediately shoved down. Eventually, Cyrus came back, placing a cup of tea down in front of him. It was a soft, yellow tea that smelled like mint, with a refreshing smell. Therion took a small sip on it, sweetness and fruitiness filling his mouth.
“Do you know where to start?” Therion shook his head. A few moments passed and Therion knew he had to say something.
“…I sometimes have nightmares of my past. I – you know how I was…a thief, before?” Therion managed. Cyrus nodded. “Well, I didn’t always work alone.” Therion looked down into the tea. Even with his blurred vision, he saw his reflection staring back at him. “And this man used me, manipulated me. Then when he was done, he tossed me aside…I was left alone, like…like before.” Therion explained, voice still watery but slowly becoming weaker.
“I…I am sorry. I cannot empathize with what you went through, but I can sympathize. No person should be used that way.” Cyrus’ tone was torn between remorse for him and anger at someone he did not know.
“It’s…fine. That’s just the real world.” Therion pessimistically choked out and Cyrus looked distraught.
“Therion, that is not…” Cyrus looked away, forlorn. A heavy breath came out and he turned back to face Therion, with a frown and avoidant eyes. “Believe it or not, I know what it’s like to watch a world in suffering. I know what it’s like to lose everything. But I should tell you that no one deserves that. That a world free of suffering is one worth seeing realized. To help the innocent and to spread knowledge, that has always been my mantra.”
Cyrus softly looked to Therion. “No one, no matter their status or station. No matter some perceived superiority, deserves to be treated like less than nothing. Life has meaning, simply because we exist. I know that may not be the answer some seek, but it is one I can give in my limited knowledge, in this world where we are always learning and growing.”
Therion couldn’t hold back the second flood of tears. Something inside him broke, like a dam. The emotion all came rushing out and Therion just sobbed meekly, his posture collapsing in onto itself. Cyrus wrapped his arms around him tightly, a slight comfort as Therion continued to cry.
Therion could not continue to bear the weight of the world he had built around him. When it all came crashing down, Therion went with it. He had always cracked and crumbled under pressure when the force exerted its reaction.
Twelve above, maybe someday Therion would learn to heal. To fill the cracks and build new structures. But for now, the scars remained. A reminder that Therion could not outrun his past for too long. And that filled him with a grief, unlike any other.
Therion wandered through the halls of the royal academy. The prideful scarlet banners and lighter bricks all felt so...dreary, to Therion. Maybe it was just one of those days, where the world lost a touch of colour. The spark, that drew him in.
Sometimes, silence would speak volumes, echoing through the backgrounds. For all the effort he put into grounding himself where he could be seen, sometimes he preferred to indulge in quiet comfort. It was easier and familiar, to allow the details to fill him, painting him in whatever light it saw fit.
He was pulled from his thoughts as he collided into someone else. “I am so sorry-“ he looked up and his heart dropped into his stomach. “…Lucia.”
This cold woman, of lavender and black. Seemingly, no bounds to her shrewdness. With long black hair, tinged with purples. Her eyes a deep black, no emotion betrayed by them. Her constant posture made her very presence imposing and instilling of fear. There was a mystique to her that scared Therion.
“Well, you should pay more attention, charlatan.” Therion felt himself shaking, unsure if it was fear or anger. Like as not, she would never let him forget that he was indeed a rogue, a phantom of the night. His past that he so liked to run from would never be far enough for her.
“Once again – sorry, I apologize. I best be going-“ Therion quickly muttered, before speeding away.
“Hold.” Lucia firmly said and Therion turned back around “I heard Professor Albright is still trying to get access to the special archives for his…what was his thesis again?” Lucia asked, contempt in her voice.
“How would you expect me to know?” Therion bit back. He immediately recoiled as Lucia simply tsked.
“I would expect such a…diligent student to pay attention to their professor. I ask again, what was the thesis.” Lucia demanded, in a way that made Therion’s blood run cold.
“It’s-“
“Ah, Therion!” Therion turned to see Mary walking over boldly. “And Lucia.” Mary greeted, giving a small curtsy.
“Afternoon, highness.” Lucia greeted, derisive. She turned her imposing posture entirely away from Therion. “Do you have some business?”
“Well, I was hoping to work with Therion on a thesis. We have been working on it for a while now and want to further investigate the matter.” Mary informed, strong tone and unflinching.
“I see. I would recommend caution, your highness. I would not see you associating with the…unsavory sort.” Lucia warned, though the meaning was not lost on Therion, or Mary, who scowled.
“I think I can decided who is savory and who is not for myself. But your concern is appreciated, thank you.” Mary remarked. She then paced over to Therion, grabbing him by the arm and dragging him away, though Therion did not mind.
Once out of earshot, Therion breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you for bailing me out. I appreciate it.”
“Don’t thank me. I was serious about the thesis thing. Crime investigation. Besides, I wouldn’t leave anyone to the suffering of Lucia. That woman manages to be scary and elitist.” Therion gave a slight nod.
“Her and Yvon both. I swear, they only exist to put us through misery and make the acquisition of our knowledge more…painful.” Mary let out a tired sigh at that.
“I don’t understand why they’re so cruel. Something feels off about this whole academy, ever since the previous headmaster died.” Mary expressed, clearly concerned and curious.
“Look, let’s not get ourselves into any more messes than we need. You were saying so about investigating crime?”
Mary nodded. “Remember those bandits we found? Well, I feel like I’ve seen them and their sort of strategy before in history books. Long ago, back when gangs still ran rampant and free due to a lack of power structures in place across Orsterra. But of course, that was-“
Therion returned to the house, it was late at night. The illumination of the moon had faded as it broke through the windows, the only light in the dark void outside and in. He ensured his footsteps were careful and quiet.
Just before he reached his own room, he went to pass Cyrus’ study. He paused seeing the door still creaked wide open, with Cyrus laying with his head planted down on the desk. He fell asleep at his desk again.
Therion snuck off to grab a blanket. It had a fluffy fur texture, with a creamy colour. He also grabbed a pillow for good measure. He returned to where Cyrus was, lifting his head lightly to place the pillow under it. He also layered the blanket over his sleeping figure.
As he looked at the sleeping Cyrus, buried in his workings and musings, Therion wondered what he did to deserve such a second chance. Sometimes, Therion still wondered if he was dreaming and he’d wake up, back to what life was.
That’s not to say this was a cure-all. Just like medicine has no miracle remedy, nothing would make what Therion went through go away. But Therion had an opportunity to fix all that was wronged. He wasn’t just about to throw it all away.
Therion felt…weirdly hopeful. After his conversation with Cyrus, he felt that things could get better. That there were people out there, looking to make things better. Like Princess Mary. Things looked rosy, for the first time in forever.
…he should stop getting so sentimental. He was never a bard or scholar, but he was slowly becoming one…maybe that was a good thing.
Therion kept his body rigid as he roamed Atlasdam streets, the town slowly receding as he walked through side streets. Homes made of stripped wood and oxidizing copper were more blocked by blooming flowers and hanging vines, with lanterns become more sparing. Slowly, it all began to recede into the background.
Therion arrived at a crack in the castle walls. It was on a far-off side of the castle grounds, so no guards would patrol. When Mary noticed the seeping fauna covering the deep cracks in the aging stone, she turned to using it. A way out of the castle.
Therion now stood at it, waiting for Mary to arrive. Their research in the library had been inconclusive, but some piece of information must have struck Mary and given her a lead if she wanted to meet Therion immediately and in private.
As if on cue, Mary walked under the foliage, dusting herself off as she did so. She paced over quickly, looking quite unnerved. Whatever she had found out, had her spooked. “Therion. Thank you for meeting here on such short notice.”
Therion gave a weak scoff. “Not like I have anything better to do. What’s up?” Therion was genuinely curious and wanted to get to the bottom of whatever the situation. Mary looked around for a few moments, before turning back to face Therion directly.
“Well, I thought it was rather unusual. You’d think with such high-profile crimes, they’d be marked down somewhere. But no leads whatsoever. That was when I remembered a tale I had heard, from some castle servants. I think I know who it is. Therion, have you-“
Mary was interrupted as several cloaked figures landed nearby. They were tinged with blue hues but had faded out to black. The cloak was lined with white, a symbol hidden in it. Their gloves were a deep black, with skin showing between the cloak and gloves. The make seemed rather ragged and worn. Hand me downs, no doubt.
Therion crouched, planting his posture as he drew daggers he had concealed on him. Mary turned, readying her ice magic. The cloaked strangers drew daggers, which were of surprisingly high quality.
One of the strangers, with a red cloak instead of the blue and black mesh, began to speak. “Capture them alive. The boss wants ‘em both.” The strangers then raced forward, ready to attack.
Therion immediately bounced forward, slicing for the wrist of one of the strangers. The man rolled back, throwing his knife. Therion spun his second blade, sending the knife into the ground. He kicked the knife up, taking it into his hand.
He then threw the knife towards another one of the thieves, who was approaching him. The knife was sent careening into the side of his stomach. Therion leapt forward, slashing at him with a twirl and knocking his knee into the embedded knife, causing the wound to shift.
He then sprung away as knives slashed at him in quick succession. A few slashes landed on his lower leg as he did so, but he disregarded it. Turning to quickly parry another knife. He spun his blade around, behind the other. He then stabbed into it the strangers palm, before leaving him with a kick to the face. He grabbed the knife as the stranger tumbled onto the ground.
A knife launched towards his face. He slammed the knife down, and it instead ingrained itself into his torso. The shock got him for a moment, as a thief raced over to reclaim their weapon. Therion instead twisted around as the man reached for the knife. He then surged backwards, landing on the shoulders of the thief. He grabbed the back of the man’s head and forced it down, slamming his body into the ground, harshly.
The blade in him twisted as he landed on the ground, causing him to groan in pain. He stood up as the ground beneath him was coated with ice. He slid across it towards an unaware attacker. He drew his weapons, swinging them both in turn and slashing the man’s side unexpectedly. He twirled on the ice and his blades sliced in a flurry.
His momentum on the ice carried as he slammed into the castle walls. The unexpected and uncontrolled impact left him staggered, as the red stranger chased after him. The edge of his weapon sliced at Therion’s chest and the man rammed Therion into the wall again, disorienting him as the dagger pierced his shoulder.
Therion kneed the man in the stomach, before removing the dagger from his shoulder. He winced in pain, blood seeping from his upper body due to various wounds. Therion then lunged forth, slicing his back multiple times. He then discarded the knife, as he rolled to avoid icicles.
He turned back to Mary who was cornered by several of their assailants. Therion quickly rushed over to one, who was already injured from a barrage of frosty attacks. He hopped and hooked his legs around the man’s neck, twirling and exerting force to bring the man to the ground. He then delivered a quick slash to the knees of the stranger.
Mary launched over, thrown by a strong attack. She looked in rough shape, leading Therion to stand in a defensive posture. As one of the ruffians approached, he slashed his dagger as a warning. A series of icicles impacted the man as he moved back.
Another man slid on the ice quickly, ending with a jump. He laid a heavy hook into his shoulder, before grabbing him. He punched Therion in the head repeatedly, with him being unable to overpower the man. Shards of ice emerged from the ground, penetrating the man and causing wounds upon him. He defensively moved back, throwing a knife into Therion’s thighs as he did so.
Therion felt weak, blood seeping from…everywhere. He felt bruising against his skin and a dazed feeling above all else. The injuries he had sustained were catching up to him. He tried to defend Mary still, but all efforts failed as one of the thieves crashed into him, flinging him back into the ground.
It all became a blur, for moments. There was shouting and fighting, still. Therion struggled to keep himself upright. When he pulled himself back together, Mary was shouting in distress, hands and legs tied. Therion stood, barely able to draw his daggers.
…why was it so cold?
A sudden shockwave of blue took over the area, ice splintered up from the ground, rained from the sky. It shattered into pieces and rained down with force. A cold mist enveloped the area, flowing in a pale pastel of blue. Carried by fierce winds, hail poured into the area like a flurry of arrows. In a storm of white and cyan, Therion could barely see anything but destruction.
By the time the dust had settled, the entire area and even more was frozen. Blue, aged roofs now splintered and crumbling with ice. The sky pouring with snow from the absolute zero temperatures. Streets destroyed and cracked, walls broken and shattered to pieces. The ground was covered with a slurry of ice, large shards pierced the earth and spanned into the sky.
Some of the strangers remained, frozen in ice. Slowly but surely, however, they were all struck with fierce cracks of lightning. It was ruthless and chilling, leaving Therion shivering (though that could be the brutal cold). Therion wondered how someone could wreak such havoc.
Then he saw Cyrus. It was the last thing he saw, before he collapsed to the ground and fell unconscious.
Therion awoke in the Atlasdam tavern. The place had its usual hardwood flooring and stripped walls with wooden supports, but the entire place had been turned into a shelter. Half walls had been put up, separating small sections. Thin mattresses and basic sheets had been laid out all over the place. In fact, Therion was laying upon one.
Therion couldn’t even tell if the usual fixtures of a tavern were there. He could see the bar counter and Tavernkeep. None of the alcohol had been touched, behind the counter was your regular alehouse. But everywhere else? Looked more like a camp, than anything.
Therion felt a hand against his body and he immediately swatted it away. “Back off.” He hissed, to whoever he was talking to.
His attention turned to whoever it was. He saw a man, with spiked hair and a small ponytail, strawberry blonde in colour. He wore a cuffed undershirt and a green overcoat. He had large brown boots and baggy pants. Judging from the satchel, he must have been an apothecary.
“Shucks, relax a little, would ya? I’m just trying to keep you alive here.” The man said with a friendly tone. Therion looked down, noticing that his injuries had been treated and wrapped.
Therion still didn’t trust the man. “Tell me what’s going on.” He demanded, though Therion doubted he held the power in this situation.
Still though, the man obliged. “My name is Alfyn. Ran into a pal of yours, Cyrus. He wanted me to get you patched up. Guess he felt a bit guilty about…neverminded. How are you feeling?” Alfyn asked, clinically. Therion shook his head.
“No, you’re going to tell me the whole truth, medicine man. Or else.” Therion threatened. Alfyn chuckled, but let out a tired sigh, deflating.
“The truth is…that scholar did a number on the town, defending you. A large section of buildings has been destroyed. Innocents may have been grievously wounded. Many are hurt and without homes.” Alfyn looked mournful as he turned around, facing all the other people. Therion realized there were families, old people. He noticed that some of them went to Atlasdam’s royal academy.
“So many injured…at least there’s no shortage of work.” Alfyn let out an uncomfortable chuckle. “But…I don’t think it’s his fault, y’know? Try telling that to those people.” Therion immediately perked up.
“What people?” Therion inquired. Alfyn then rubbed the small of his neck, with an exaggerated smile. He was not meant to say that. After a few moments of staring, Alfyn threw his hands up.
“Alright…some people from the academy came by. Said that they needed to speak with Cyrus, urgently. A matter of great import, to use direct quotes. Didn’t seem good for him.” Alfyn bleakly explained. Therion immediately sat up, but Alfyn blocked his way.
“Oh no. I’m not letting a patient slip off. You’ve got to stay and heal.” Alfyn declared. Therion just rolled his eyes.
“Oh yeah? You got the bite to enforce that, medicine man?” Therion questioned.
“Nope. As I said, no shortage of work. There are plenty of other innocents I must attend to. But I’ll have someone I can trust keeping watch over you.” Therion then saw a woman approaching. “H’aanit, good to see you.”
Her hair was dirty blonde, braided back to flow behind her. She wore a thick fur mantle, with a similar fur on her boots. She also wore a sleeveless tunic, made of what appeared to be an animal hide. She also has fingerless gloves, fur similarly upon them. In fact, the only part of her outfit that seemed to not involve nature was her leggings.
The part that was most striking, was the presence of a snow leopard and direwolf next to her. This woman was a curiosity to Therion as she approached. He would have to learn more about her.
“Alfyn. I hopest that thine work hast treated thou well.” The woman, H’aanit, took a seat on a chair that looked like it belonged to the bar tables. She handed over some herbs to Alfyn, before extending her empty hand towards her furry companions.
“It is what it is. But helping people is its own reward. Can you watch over this one for me?” Alfyn asked. At H’aanit’s nod, he left quickly to help other patients.
Therion sat impatiently for a few moments, before deciding to try and leave. “I’m going now. Don’t bother stopping me.” He firmly said.
“Thou hast courage. However, courage hast killed many a man. Thou wouldst behoven to proceedeth with caution.” H’aanit stated.
“…I didn’t say I wouldn’t be careful. I just said that I’m going, regardless of what you say.” Therion huffed, standing to leave.
“Fine. Thou can goest. Thou wilst be taking my company, howeverest.” She then stood. Therion decided to take the win. He then quickly left, trying to find Cyrus as soon as possible.
The halls of the royal academy had never felt so grim. Students spoke in hushed whispers, tight posture and a hurried tone. Though it wasn’t the most sordid place that Therion had been. Passing through the streets of Atlasdam had been hard enough. Even seeing the destruction from a distance…
Therion shook it off. He was here to find Cyrus, nothing more. As he roamed through the academy, he eventually came to Yvon’s office. Standing outside and pacing back in forth was Cyrus. His lips were pursed, and he was fidgeting with his hands. Therion quickly approached.
“Cyrus!” Cyrus turned his head, before glancing away. “Cyrus, what’s going on?”
“I – I don’t know. Lucia called me to Yvon’s office.” A long, uncomfortable pause. “Therion, you should go.” Cyrus said, after.
“What? No, Cyrus you need to explain what happened.” Therion demanded, desperately. Cyrus let out a heavy sigh.
“I…hurt people, Therion. My magic – I couldn’t control it. Or maybe I was in control but didn’t care for the consequences. Either way, people are paying the price for it.” Cyrus said, mournful.
Before Therion could get another word in, the doors opened. Standing there was Yvon, the Headmaster. He had a very exasperated posture, but his face betrayed no emotion. “Therion. How unexpected. However, I will allow you to enter.” He then turned towards H’aanit. “Do I know you?”
H’aanit turned away and Yvon returned to his office. Cyrus and Therion followed, shutting the doors behind them. Much to his chagrin, Lucia was also there. Yvon took a seat at his desk. “Professor Albright. You do know why you are here, correct?”
“Is it about the damages to the city?” Cyrus asked quickly. He was still fidgeting and his eyes refused to meet anyone’s gaze.
“Correct.” Yvon then stood up, walking to his window and looking out it. “Honest to Aelfric, what were you thinking, Albright?! People have lost homes, there have even been reported deaths. The nobility, least of all the King, are furious. They blame us, the academy. I blame you not only for this fiasco, but for the kidnapping of her highness!” Yvon yelled, Cyrus just stood there, clutching the hem of his top. Therion was shocked. Mary…was kidnapped? His mind immediately raced with thoughts. Was she safe? Where was she?
But secondly to all this, he was filled with rage from Yvon’s demeanor. How could this man sit here, passing out judgement like he had done anything to help?
“And what steps did you take to prevent the kidnapping? What steps are you taking to mitigate the damages to the town?” Therion scrutinized. Yvon turned back around, face in a scowl and eyes burning with rage.
“That is enough, everyone. We should not cause more problems than already exist in current.” Lucia voiced, flat tone. “I think unfortunately, there is only one reasonable course of action, Professor Albright.”
“And that is?” Cyrus weakly asked.
“Your removal from the academy and banishment from Atlasdam.” Therion froze. What?! “This is the most logical course of action for the reputation of both our academy and your own.” Yvon calmly announced.
“My…my reputation?!” Cyrus indignantly responded. Yvon scowl returned.
“Do we have a problem, Albright?” Yvon rudely probed. Cyrus clenched his fists.
“People died! The damages to the city are unimaginable. And you are concerned with yourself?!” Cyrus asked, enraged. Yvon slammed his fist against his desk.
“Need I remind you that you are the cause! This is your doing, you ignorant-“ Before Yvon descended into babbling rage, Lucia sent a sharp glare his way, that quickly shut him up.
“Professor Albright. I assure you; we are not concerned with just ourselves. Many members of the academy have been affected by the tragic events that took place. However, we do have priorities. And as of current, this is one of them. All things considered, expelling you from Atlasdam quietly is a mercy. We will give you time to leave, too. Is this a sufficient solution?” Lucia explained with an unnerving calm.
Cyrus turned away, going quiet for some moments. He took the opportunity to compose himself, before turning back to respond. “Of course. I shall be leaving post-haste. Good day to you both.” Cyrus then turned and left the office.
“I assume you will also be leaving, Therion?” Yvon inquired bitterly. Therion simply left, not giving Yvon the satisfaction of a reaction.
As Therion left, he felt sour about the whole situation. Too much had been lost and not enough had been found. Therion felt as though he was getting tangled in something bigger than himself.
That was how Therion and Cyrus found themselves clearing out Cyrus’ home, with the help of several strange travelers that he had met Apparently, Cyrus had gotten himself enraptured in a case of book theft. He also saw his banishment as a blessing, disguised as a curse. He now had the freedom to explore the continent and find out new things.
The strange travelers included the apothecary Alfyn and the Hunter H’aanit. But also a dancer and a cleric. Truly, Cyrus had met strange company. Therion would not deny their help in moving important things out before they could never return.
The dancer, Primrose, had tied up dark hair. She wore red dancer garments, with the top being incredibly thin and cropped, while the bottom was a long skirt. She also had sandals, wrapping around the lower parts of her legs. She had also packed a coat for the colder climates, which sat neatly upon her shoulders.
The cleric, meanwhile, was Ophilia. She had long flowing blonde hair, with a white dress and clasped cloak, which had golden seams. She wore woolen black gloves to cover her arms. Therion did wonder if she was cold, but she said she was used to the colder climates.
After moving all they wanted, the group had sat down for dinner. Cyrus had cooked pasta (it reminded him of the night that Cyrus had took him in.) They got to chatting and the idea of traveling together was planted. They did say they’d accept both Cyrus and Therion.
Though Therion was still unsure. As he moved through a destroyed part of Atlasdam with H’aanit, he wondered if he should leave. Maybe…staying here would be for the best. He didn’t know where he’d go, but it would have to be somewhere.
“Thou hast doubts?” H’aanit probed. Therion turned his attention to her and let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding.
“I…leaving Atlasdam might not be the right move.” Therion replied, despondent.
“Ultimately, thou hast to deciden thy own path. But it wouldst behoven thee to speaketh with her.” H’aanit pointed out a girl approaching.
The flowing silver was matted and unkempt. Her posture was clenched tightly, less proper and more wracked with concern. Lines where tears had formed ran down her face. Her fancy clothes were covered with dirt and soot…was that Therese?
As H’aanit left, Therese walked over. “Therion?” She weakly asked.
“Therese. You doing okay?” Therion asked, slightly concerned for her wellbeing. In all the time he had known her, she had never looked like this.
“I…it’s hard to see the damages. So many people, hurt by forces we can’t understand.” A long pause. “I’m sorry about Professor Albright.”
“You know?” Therion asked. Therese gave a small nod.
“Word travels…many of the nobility think he’s a monster, for what happened. I feel bad, knowing he’s anything but.” A long, remorseful pause. “Therion…please find my cousin. Please find Mary.” Therese asked, quiet and frightened.
“I…I’ll try. I don’t think this is something I can leave alone. I’ll find Mary and bring her back to Atlasdam safely. And whoever took her…they’ll get theirs. I promise.” Therion reassured. Therese gave a small nod.
“Thank you, Therion. You are a kind soul.” Therese said, grateful.
In truth, Therion didn’t know what he was wrapping himself up in. But he would abandon those he knows. Cyrus…Mary…he’d help them both, even if he had to leave behind what was safe. The journey would be a long one. But Therion was willing to face it.