Time Elapsed: 01:12:13
"Get up."
Severance barely understood the words. The tone, however, was clear enough to send a whisper of fear through him. Utterly cold and dispassionate, as if all this meant nothing.
He rested his head on the sand, his body curled up beneath him. He could feel the heat of the sun beating down on his bare back, but it was a distant thing compared to the warm, wet slide of his own blood across his skin. It seeped into the valley between his neck and shoulder and dripped onto the sand beside his face. More crept down the side of his ribs, which were already turning a dark shade of purple.
Boots appeared by his head without a single sound. Only the slightest displacement of a few gains of sand marked their arrival.
"Get up, Severance."
Batin's voice had lowered in pitch, and it was soft like a blade being drawn from its sheath. It was a warning.
Severance closed his eyes, teeth grinding as he fought to keep the strangled sob at bay. Every breath felt like swallowing shards of glass. His back radiated agony from multiple points, though it was getting hard to separate them.
How many knives were in his back now?
He'd lost count after three, because his mind had shut down for a little while. He'd awakened to the sound of his ribs snapping beneath a very deliberate boot.
Batin didn't tolerate dawdling. It didn't matter whether Severance was conscious or not. The consequence of tardiness was delivered all the same.
Severance lifted his head. The sand beneath him was wet with blood, snot, and tears. The taste of iron coated his tongue.
He took a shallow breath, getting his arms beneath him. The effort made him wheeze, then cough as his airways bubbled up with blood. He moaned as renewed agony spiked through him. The sound became garbled as his mouth filled with phlegm and blood, which he half retched, half spat onto the sand.
Still, he pushed himself up onto his knees, eyes squeezed shut as he rode each wave of pain. Little stars danced inside his eyelids as he grew lightheaded. For a second, he thought he'd black out again.
"That's it," Batin's voice came from far away. "Don't focus on the pain. Let it wash over you. It's just another piece of your environment that's present around you. Turn your focus towards the task you must complete."
Severance gritted his teeth, his breath squeezing out in a hiss. Doing what Batin asked seemed about as possible as turning back time. It was beyond his ability. When each breath brought renewed hurt, simply existing felt difficult.
It was at moments like these that he thought of Rasin. The magnitude of what the man had done for him struck him all the harder, because suddenly he understood, even just a little, of how Rasin had willingly suffered on his behalf.
Shame welled up, as well as guilt. Who was he to complain about such a small thing? His pain was temporary. A small price to pay for getting strong enough to finally be able help the others in return.
That gave him strength to push to his feet, even though it nearly cost him his consciousness. He wheezed and gasped for air, his lungs struggling to get enough oxygen. One lung had to be damaged, because he kept bringing up blood with every choked breath.
His health bar confirmed that he was bleeding, because it crept down at a slow, but steady rate. If the bleeding didn't stop, he'd eventually die.
"Move," Batin commanded. "You have yet to reach your target."
Severance lifted his head, and looked. The ruined building that had been designated as his "target" had never seemed so far away. He'd never reach it. Not like this.
But he took an unsteady step forward anyway. Rasin hadn't stopped until he was dead. So neither would he.
***
Time Elapsed: 2:19:24
Severance spun around the tree, his fans slicing into the bark in quick slashes. The trunk had been marked with small white circles meant to represent targets. He hit two of them before instincts twinged and he leapt back.
A small throwing blade, similar to Batin's, struck the tree and embedded itself in one of the targets.
He turned and gave Dhin a dark look. "You trying to hit me?"
He'd already had his share of that with Batin. He didn't need that from Dhin.
Dhin flashed a mischievous smile. "Just making sure you were paying attention. Now, let's see how you did."
He came over to the tree and took a look at the targets. "Well, your accuracy is pretty good, but these cuts are shallow. You'll cut unprotected flesh, but you're not getting through armor."
"But if I were in Sky Dance-"
"You're not always going to be in Sky Dance," Dhin interrupted. He grabbed the knife and tugged it free. "You might not have time to use a Dance, or maybe you're in the other one for healing. You need to learn how to properly fight in any situation. Here."
He offered the knife, hilt first. A little skeptically, Severance shifted his fans to one hand, then gingerly took the knife. His mind flashed back hot sands and broken fingers, and he grimaced. "What am I supposed to do with this?"
"Look at it, for one thing." Dhin sounded a bit exasperated. He pointed at the blade of the knife. "This one has a tapered edge, and is meant more for stabbing than cutting. It's a lot like your fans in their closed state, right?"
Yes, Severance could see the similarities. When closed, the tips of his fans lined up into a compact layered blade a few inches long. Each layer was perfectly aligned and set snugly together. At a glance, he might as well have been holding a knife with a long, oddly shaped handle.
"Okay," he said. "But I knew that. I already stabbed some things in Ascendence with them like this."
"I'm impressed, Twiggy!" Dhin clapped him on the arm. "That's very good! Then let me show you some fun techniques."
The smile he had was a little too wide for Severance's comfort, and he quickly learned why.
A few minutes later, he stared at a new target, made out of an old sack of straw sitting on a pole. He felt a little green. "Is this the first thing you teach the kids?"
"No, it's the second thing," Dhin quipped. "First, they learn how to tackle intruders, and then they learn how to slit their throats. Now come one, stop being a baby. If the throat is unprotected, it's one of several targets you can go for. And since it happens to be the most obvious, we're starting there."
Severance stared at the sack. He imagined it as a person. That was a mistake, because it only made him feel ill. How had it come to this point, he wondered, where he was learning how to kill people?
He was on a dark, twisted path, and it was frightening to think of where it might lead him.
***
Time Elapsed: 03:01:47
"How are you doing?"
It was merely a pleasantry, Severance suspected, but to him, it was a loaded question that he wasn't sure that he dared to answer. He didn't know how he was doing. His insides were all twisted up into a confusing mix of emotion and thoughts, and to untangle them would require monumental effort.
It wouldn't help anyone if he tried to answer that, so he plastered on a smile. "All right, I think."
Olen watched him from behind the desk. It appeared extra disorganized today, with scrolls and quills and books and maps scattered over its surface in a haphazard manner. The Veiled man looked slightly more rested today, though there was a pinch of stress or tension lingering about his eyes.
Probably because of Bian and that whole situation, Severance decided. He was getting better at picking out the subtle cues of Olen's outwardly calm features.
"Good. It's been a challenge for you, but I've heard you're adjusting well." Olen matched Severance's smile with one of his own.
Severance felt a little doubtful about that. He didn't think anyone could adjust to having their entire world flipped upside down as it had. "I guess."
Olen leaned forward, resting his elbows on his desk and lacing his fingers together. "Don't sell yourself short, Severance. You've proven yourself to be remarkably resilient."
Severance responded with a shrug. "How's Bian?"
Both of Olen's eyebrows lifted, as if to say That's what you want to talk about? Much of the bruising and swelling around his eye had faded, leaving only a yellowish discoloration. "She's not speaking to me, so I don't really know. But I've been assured she's doing well."
"That's good." Severance fidgeted a little. Olen had wanted to 'check in' with him since he had some time, but now Severance wondered what the whole point of this conversation was.
It was as if the clansman read his mind.
"There is something I'd like to let you know about," Olen finally said. "In several days, we're going to launch an attack against the Traders."
Severance sat up straight. Olen's statement had effectively grabbed his attention by the horns. "What do you mean, an attack?"
"Perhaps that's not the best way to term it. It's more of an elimination mission. There are two targets we intend to remove."
A chill ran through Severance. What Olen was describing were assassinations. "Who?"
"A woman known only as Fester. She's a Chosen Leader, newly appointed, but she has aggressive views that make her a significant danger now that she's risen to power. The other is known to you. Ervante. He's been quiet for the past few days, but he's too dangerous to let alone."
Severance sucked in a breath. "You want to take out Ervante?"
"Yes." Olen watched him. He was always watching, it felt like. Now more than ever. "He's recruiting Outsiders and galvanizing them into action against the rest. You've experienced that yourself. In the last week alone, he's drawn forty-two Outsiders away from the other clans and reassigned them into the Chosen and Free Traders."
"Wow." Severance hadn't realized Ervante had been so effective. Then again, considering the strange ability he had, it shouldn't have come as a surprise. It was probably for the best if Ervante simply disappeared. "Is there something I can do to help?"
The idea of confronting Ervante was frightening, but the Veiled had promised to look after the whole Ervante situation. Now that they actually were, Severance didn't feel right sitting on the sidelines. He was the one Ervante had targeted.
"There is, actually. Do you know about these?" Olen tugged back a sleeve to reveal that he wore one of the Amaurite bracelets.
Severance nodded. "Maun told me about them. It gives you a chance to be Revived like an Outsider, right?"
Olen lowered his sleeve. "Yes. For clarification, Outsiders can choose to accept a Revive if that opportunity presents itself, otherwise they are sent to their chosen "spawn point", as you like to say. We, on the other hand, remain in stasis for a period of time until we are sent back to our origin, which would be the Clan House. We don't have the choice. Either we're Revived, or we return."
"Right..." Severance knew that very well.
"Our targets will most likely have one or more of these upon their person. That means we may have to eliminate them more than once. Severance, this is where you come in. I regret that we must ask this of you, as it's distasteful, but-"
Severance suddenly understood. His mouth went dry. "You want me to Revive them."
"Yes. We will search and remove any Amaurite crystals we can find upon them, but there is always a risk that we'll miss it. We'll need you to Revive them to ensure they do nut escape until we can deal the final blow."
A dull ache rippled across his fingers, and with a start, Severance realized he'd been clasping his hands tightly in his lap. He forced himself to relax, though he could do nothing about the churning dread in his belly.
Olen was asking him to actively take part in not one, but two murders. They weren't good people, he knew, and probably deserved it, but even so, this was real. In his own world, murder was a terrible crime, as it should be, no matter the reason. Who was he to judge who should live and die?
Even if the situation in Eliona was different, even if the reasons for murder were justified, it didn't mean it was right. But it was necessary if they wanted to survive. If they wanted to push back their enemies and slow their takeover, this was the way to start.
Severance understood this. This wasn't something that could be solved with negotiations. This wasn't just a conflict of interests. With the attack of Two Bridges, the Chosen and Traders had made their intentions clear.
This was war.
He let out a slow, heavy breath. He'd made his choice long ago to stand with the Veiled. And besides, as far as he was concerned, it'd been war from the moment he saw Rasin die.
"I'll do it."
Quest Received: Eliminate targets
Fester 0/1
Ervante 0/1
Reward: ???
***
When he left Olen's office, Severance went upstairs to the second floor and entered the little room he'd been given. He thought about going outside, but he suspected that he'd be watched. The Veiled always seemed to find him easily when he was outside, and if he wasn't doing something, someone often approached him after a couple of minutes.
If he was in his room, however, he figured they'd leave him alone and allow him some space. That was perfect. The sun was setting, and there was something he wanted to do without a Veiled escort. Even more importantly, he didn't want the Veiled to know because he was sure they'd stop him.
"System, Inbox."
The window popped up and Severance tapped on Awesome Dude's name. He glanced towards the doorway of his room. The heavy curtain was only half drawn over the opening and in the narrow space he could see through, there was no sign of anyone.
Even so, he kept his voice low. It was barely more than a whisper.
"Hey, you free now? I need your help with something."