Bacorium Legacy (37 page)

“The rules of life are hard enough without making more for yourself,” Wiosna said. “Enjoy the things you enjoy, and never feel guilty for it.”

He sat back, thinking about that. Simple enough, he decided. There was no sense in feeling guilt over the things you enjoyed. People will always judge someone, no matter how perfect they strive to be. Sacrificing one's own joy to appease those people was simply foolish.

“So what do you enjoy?” he asked Wiosna, not sure why he was so curious.

She smiled, and scratched her cheek. “Reading, undoubtedly. But I also like to just go out and take in the simple beauty of the world. The leaves in the woods, the cool breeze, the sound of a flowing stream. The serenity brings peace to the mind. My greatest passion, however - that would be the rush of battle. That's why I travelled to Allma Temple in the first place. I enjoy the excitement of a fight.”

Luca remembered the excitement in Wiosna's eyes when the Allmans had attacked the Acarian camp, slaughtering the people who had destroyed their home. Wiosna had screamed for their blood. He had attributed it to the rush of vengeful passion, but it seemed the girl's real passion was for combat. Then again, it made more sense than someone who spent all their time in a library coming to a place like Allma. Everyone there was a warrior at heart - one had to be if they wanted to make it through the training.

“Your turn,” Wiosna prodded playfully.

“My turn?”

“Tell me what you enjoy in life. I shared, so you have to as well. It's only fair.”

He had to think on that one for a bit. There wasn't really much. Back when he travelled with Lodin, he read, but mostly because that was all there was to do. He cared nothing for the little things that Wiosna spoke of, and he when he fought - it was something he was good at, and proud of, but not quite a passion, like it seemed to be for Wiosna.

The only thing that really drove him in life was honour. Honour was the whole reason he was going after Zinoro in the first place, because he wanted to see the man pay for killing his father. But in his efforts to reach that goal, he had already forsaken it. Honour would not get him to Zinoro - pragmatism would.

Dreevius had no honour, so why should Luca need to feel guilty for fighting him without it? Dreevius really did deserve to die slowly in the mud. But no honourable warrior would have dragged him over to it. But it was what Luca had decided was right.

So why did he feel such guilt? He had felt so satisfied when he had broke off Dreevius' finger, and he had felt even more so when he had dealt the killing blow. Perhaps the guilt wasn't that he had killed Dreevius in such a dishonourable way, but that he had enjoyed doing so.

Wiosna was waiting for his answer with a concerned look.

“I'm not sure,” he admitted.

“You don't know what you enjoy?” she asked.

He shook his head.

The blond girl bit her lip. “Er - perhaps I shouldn't have asked.”

“It was in your right,” he assured her.

“Still, I feel guilty if I made you sad,” Wiosna said. She looked awkwardly over to a bag in the corner of the tent. “There's uh - wine in there if you want it.”

Luca considered that. A few weeks ago, he would have flat out refused the offer. It was part of the Way of Uro, which he had wanted so badly to be a follower of.

A warrior will resist the vices of the world, as drink and...

To hell with that. Uro has been dead for over a thousand years. Luca deserved to live.

“Thanks, I think I do.”

He reached over Wiosna and took the wine bottle out of the bag. The small blond girl looked at him uncomfortably as he did so, perhaps from his closeness. She seemed to relax a bit as he pulled away, and pulled the tight cork free of the bottle.

Luca had only ever consumed alcohol once before in his life. While he and Lodin had been staying at an inn somewhere - he couldn't remember where - his father had ordered a mug of ale. After several minutes of incessant pestering, Lodin had finally given Luca a glass of his own. The younger version of him had been so eager to try it, but he had hated the taste so much he never wanted to try it again.

Luca found himself smiling at the memory of his father's roaring laughter at the disgusted face he had made. How old had he been that day, he wondered. Ten? Eight? Possibly even younger than that...

Shrugging, Luca took a swig of the wine bottle. He shuddered as he swallowed. It tasted about as bad as he had thought it would.

“Is - it good?” Wiosna asked him.

“I suppose so,” he said. He took a second drink, and it didn't taste as bad as the first. “I guess I could get used to this.”

He offered the bottle to Wiosna, and she recoiled like it was a striking snake. She gasped aloud, and shuffled away from him.

“What is it?!” he asked her. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yes,” she said, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I just don't drink, that's all.”

He looked at her, trying to puzzle out what she was afraid of. “It's not going to hurt you.” Still, he did not hold the bottle out to her, returning it to his own person.

Wiosna moved back to where she she had been sitting, looking a bit embarrassed at the outburst. “I know. It just makes me really comfortable to even be around the stuff.”

“Why did you have it, then?”

“One of the other students brought it with him when we escaped,” Wiosna said. “The temple had a whole wine cellar, and he said he was determined to save even one bottle if he could. It's not the oldest the temple had, but it's pretty old.”

Luca turned the bottle over, and found the date marked on it.
Thirty-three ten
. His eyes went wide.
 

“That's over a hundred and fifty years ago...!”

“That's nothing,” Wiosna said, her smile returning. “There's wine in that cellar that was bottled in the age of Markiran empire. The library had one book that was penned in the twenty-five hundreds - it was kept in a glass case, because it would probably fall to pieces if someone tried to read it.”

Luca hesitated to take another drink. He suddenly felt like he was holding a piece of history.

“The temple itself has only stood for three generations, but so many people and things found their way there,” Wiosna said sadly. “And now it's all gone.”

“Just another thing Zinoro has stolen from the world,” Luca said bitterly. “He'll pay for all this, I promise you.”

Wiosna looked to him, and said, “You should finish that. Otherwise, it'll just go to waste.”

Luca thought about it for a moment, and then took a long swig. When he finished, his head was spinning.

Wiosna watched him drink, and smiled.

<> <> <>

Emila sighed, turning over in her sleeping bag for possibly the hundredth time. She was restless, unable to sleep in spite of her fatigue. Beside her, Selphie was fast asleep, having drifted off almost as soon as her head hit the pillow. Emila had no such luck. Something was bothering her, but she just couldn't put her finger on it.

Or perhaps she knew exactly what it was, and she just didn't want to admit it.

She looked out at the camp outside, through the small gap between the folds. Dozens of sleeping white-cloaked figures were scattered around the large fire in the centre. Some others were awake, and seated at a table, talking over a drink. Under the faint starlight, and the orange glow of the fire, she spotted Ash and Tranom among the ones sleeping around the camp. Jared was lying on a roll close to her and Selphie's tent - she couldn't be sure if he was sleeping or not.

As her tossing and turning might wake Selphie - which was something she'd feel bad for doing - Emila rose as quietly as she could and went outside. She made her way over to the fire. Jared did not move or say anything as she passed him, so he must have been sleeping after all.

Emila sat as close to the large fire as she needed, and stretched her arms out to warm up.

“Can't sleep?” said a voice right next to her.

She stifled a gasp and nearly jump. Brand was sitting beside her, having joined her without her even noticing.

“No, I can't,” she said, trying to calm her beating heart.

“I can't blame you,” he said, “after what happened.”

That feeling of being stabbed - she had felt that once already, back in the temple the first time Dreevius stabbed Luca. The pain had been unbearable, and she had screamed and screamed in  pain and enraged grief at the thought that Luca had just been killed. But that wasn't what was bothering her.

She could possibly talk about it - but she didn't feel like Brand would understand.

“I can manage,” she said. “How about you? You're reunited with your master.”

“It's good to see him again.” Brand put his hands behind his head and sat back. “But I knew he'd be alright.”

Emila looked around the camp, wondering where Luca was.

“I have to apologise,” Brand said.

“For what?”

“I should have been with you at the inn. If I had stuck with you guys, instead of going shopping with Selphie, I would have realised that the guy you met there wasn't the real Tranom. I would have realised a lot quicker than Ash, and unlike him I wouldn't have run off without telling you anything.”

“He drugged us,” Emila pointed out. “The innkeeper was drugging all the food served there. We were caught the moment we started to eat.”

“You still had time to get away. I could have fought the guy and held him off. He wouldn't have been able to tell his men about Selphie. You would have been able to get to her first, and you all could have escaped.”

“But you would have died...”

He didn't answer that. A moment passed before he spoke again.

“Now that I think about it, we should have all stuck together from the beginning.” Brand spoke quietly, staring deep into the flickering fire. “We shouldn't have split up at all, at least not until we were certain the town was safe. You and Luca could have been killed back there. We all could have been, once were caught. It's only thanks to that other Acarian guy that Dreevius didn't kill you. He didn't need any of us alive, save for Selphie.”

“Brand,” Emila said sternly, “don't think about things like that. There are thousands of times where doing something different could result in a better outcome. But unless you're a seer, there's no way to know that when you make those decisions. Don't torture yourself over 'could-haves'.”

Brand smirked. “You're right, I shouldn't be moping uselessly like this. That's Ash's job.” He sat up and looked into the fire.

Emila looked around the camp once again, trying to spot a particular white-haired figure among the sleeping crowd. “Where is he, anyway?”

“Ash?”

“No. The other brother.”

Brand frowned. He pointed over to one of the tents. There was a lit lantern inside it, but the light was too faint to make out anything inside.

“He's in there?” Emila asked. “Isn't that Wiosna's tent?”

“It is,” Brand said.

Emila blinked, not quite understanding. “Wh-why he would he be in there?”

“She invited him back to her tent,” Brand explained. “They were trying to be discreet, but I saw them. That's all I know. I've been keeping an eye on it since, but I haven't seen anything.”

“...oh,” she said softly, in spite of herself.

“I'm certain nothing's happening,” Brand reassured her. “You know Luca, he's wouldn't do anything with a girl he hardly knows.”

“No, this is great,” Emila said with as much enthusiasm as she could muster. “It's good he's spending time with a girl who isn't me.”

Brand had an expression that said he didn't quite believe that. “Emila, if you're upset, you can tell me. I know you two are very close, and-”

“No, it really isn't like that,” she said, more certain this time. “The thing is - the magick that I used to save him is pretty much completely untested. Nobody knows much about it at all - I had no idea it would save his life the way it did. But one of the things I do know about it is that the two connected are drawn together. Any attraction that he and I might feel for each other isn't real. It's not actual affection, it's more like a forced obsession. If he were to have a relationship with another girl, that would help things a lot, because in the worst case scenario, we could become so obsessed with each other that it could warp our personalities and drive us insane.”

“So you're not jealous at all?” Brand asked her.

“If I am, it's not real jealousy,” Emila replied. “It's the tether pushing me towards him. If I give into it, then things could get very bad. The obsession could lead us to see any interaction with another person as a potential threat. That kind of jealousy is very dangerous. So if I do feel anything, it's wrong and I have to do the opposite of what I feel.”

“That wasn't really a yes or no,” Brand said.

Emila sighed. “Yes, I do feel jealous. More jealous than I should. But I don't own him, and I know that if he wants to spend the night with another girl, that's good, because that means he isn't as dependent as I am.”

“Emila...” Brand sounded very concerned.

“Really, this is a good thing,” she insisted. “It's better for both of us, even if it hurts me.”

Brand frowned, but he said nothing more. He picked a twig up off the ground, and twirled it around in his hand. Then he broke it in half and tossed one piece into the fire. “If this tether thing is so dangerous, why don't you just stop it?”

“That was the plan, but things keep happening,” she said. “His lung was healed the other day, so I wanted to break the tether, but then Dreevius stabbed him in the heart. Twice. If I broke it now, he would die. I have to wait for whatever mortal injuries he sustains to fully heal before I break the tether. And while I can use magick to close a wound, if his body still thinks he's dead, he would vanish if the tether was broken. Time is the only thing that can fix that.”

“So when he was stabbed by Dreevius it all started over again,” Brand muttered.

“Indeed. But that's just it, though,” Emila said. “He keeps getting into situations where he suffers injuries that set him back. How quickly would he be killed if I broke the tether and left him on his own?”