Chereads / Beastkin of GRIM / Chapter 15 - Scars

Chapter 15 - Scars

The Many-robed One halted mid-step as a familiar sensation coursed through him. The lukewarm feeling sent uncharacteristic shivers along his skin and traveled deeper to caress his bones. He barely noticed one of the masked twins nearly bump into him as he suddenly stopped and stared at the floor of the tunnel. He relaxed as the thrill washed over him. It was replaced by total, assured satisfaction as it seeped from his body.

"Dear leader, what is it?" one of the masked twins asked. She backed away from him with timid steps. A sharp gasp escaped her that informed the leader of her awareness as well. Her brother jerked involuntarily as he experienced similar sensations.

Div'gen appeared from further behind where the tunnel curved out of sight. His massive form barely fit through sections of the angled walls. He gave the twins a questioning look that they only answered with their blank, hidden expressions.

Towards the far back of the group, Korv ignored all of this and clawed at his legs. Trails of blood crawled down his leg, and enough time passed until it pooled at his bare feet.

"I-I feel it," Korv said. "I need to see them. Please. So cute."

The robed leader made a motion with his hand towards Div'gen. "Please, remove him. I shall apprise you once we determine our next course."

Div'gen glanced behind him at the crazed humanoid and clicked his tongue in disgust. He reluctantly bowed without a word and grabbed Korv by one of his skinny arms. They disappeared down a second tunnel as an excuse to investigate where it led. The robed leader heard the fading echoes of Korv's voice as he incessantly muttered some apologies.

The twins stared up at their leader with clasped hands. "You felt it," they said in unison.

"Yes...I did." The Many-robed One rested a finger against his temple and closed his eyes. Something had indisputably changed within Hovestile's System.

"Rinka did something else," the male said. "What is it, Sister?"

His masked counterpart flipped through their Construct Contract and hovered her hand over a page covered in strange, green symbols and words.

"It is...hidden," she breathed.

The robed leader grinned and looked up at the ceiling, as if he were seeing through it to the surface.

"No," he said. "This is not only Rinka's doing."

He pulled his own contract from the confines of his robe and let all of the pages fall to one side. Similar green words and symbols morphed on the back cover and adjacent page. They appeared and faded at regular intervals. One might notice that some remained permanent and fully embedded on the white surface. When all the appropriate words, symbols and markings formed, they transformed into the typical black ink of the contract. The names of six individuals formed.

The Many-robed One read the list and stared at the new one towards the bottom.

His grin widened. "Welcome to the game, Alphonse Kneller."

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Scars tell some of the most profound stories. Formed in a universal language forever inscribed upon the teller, they are sometimes written by oversight and often the instruments wielded by those meaning ill will. The significance viewed by enemies, allies and the canvassed receiver is varied like any interpreted text.

A part of Asa wished she had her own scars. But it was not for the sake of revealing a story to others. After all, the healers robe she wore would suitably conceal such retelling. She wanted something that acted as a reminder of the obstacles she overcame along her path. They would be mementos reserved for herself.

Scars say, "I have been here. I conquered this foe. This is my penance. I made this mistake. It happened during this time of my life," and then, as a culmination of greatest importance, "I molded into this being."

Asa ran a hand along the exposed, pale white of her thigh where a faint line seemed to glow in the stark light. It traveled down towards her knee and coiled around to the back like a snake. It was the one scar she'd received during her time on the surface, when the terrible human lord had arrived and razed her village.

She remembered clawing through the bramble to reach the safety of the surrounding forest as the buildings burned in the distance. A thicket of thorns had seized her and curled around her leg, drawing blood as it sliced a permanent mark into her.

One scar. She wished there were more to extinguish it.

Asa glanced at her sister who knelt on the floor, examining the recently cleaned parts of warrior armor. The scars from battle were prominent on Kirie's naked figure. A jagged mark like a lightning bolt covered the entirety of one thigh. A splash of discoloration consumed the front of her left knee, as if a roaring flame had embedded itself within the skin. Her right arm was marred by three spots evenly spaced where she'd been stabbed by a monster's crude weapon.

Kirie turned around when she sensed Asa's lingering gaze. "What is it?"

Asa shook her head and stared down at the healers robe resting on the bed. "Nothing. I just thought that maybe you and Alphonse might have a lot to talk about."

Kirie scoffed at the comment. She turned to fully face her sister and crossed her arms under her breasts. Asa could now see the thin, pale line over her sister's stomach that extended on one side slightly towards her back. Above her exposed chest near the collarbone was a thicker, slightly raised mark about half a foot long. A permanent, angry red surrounded it that seemed to match her irritation.

Kirie positioned her arms further up, as if to hide the mark with her breasts. "What makes you say that?" she asked.

"Your scars," Asa answered.

Asa watched as her sister lowered her arms to her side. She bit her lip, as was customary when she fell deep in thought, especially concerning topics she preferred to avoid. She instinctively placed a hand on the side of her head where a brown clip held some extra hair in place that would have normally hung to her shoulders. Asa knew that there was another scar concealed underneath, one that Kirie was too ashamed to let anyone see. A warrior like Kirie cared little for appearances, but she'd received this particular scar as a child, and she considered it a weakness from clumsy negligence.

"Maybe," Kirie finally said. She traced her fingers along the scar near her neck. "Some of his scars looked pretty old."

Asa nodded as she recalled the time spent tending to Alphonse's wounds some three weeks earlier. She'd noticed three jagged marks on his back that extended from shoulder to opposite thigh. She knew they were claw marks from some dangerous beast, but they seemed too old to be received during his time on Hovestile. She assumed that Alphonse wasn't a person who'd sat comfortable in a city or large town back on his own world. Another scar, with an appearance like the gnarled branches of a tree, covered almost the entire right side of his body near a more recent wound from where an arrow pierced his armor.

Asa was no stranger to fighting, but it seemed more fitting that Kirie should inquire about those parts of his past.

"It's pointless if we don't stay on the same path." Kirie shrugged dismissively as she tightened the straps on one of her bracers. "I like Alphonse, and I'm grateful for what he's done, but if we find the man who-"

"I know," Asa interrupted her. "But you'd be going back on our promise."

She understood Kirie's anger and desire for revenge; however, cool reasoning suggested the time for it was distant.

Kirie gave her a confounded look as she attempted to interpret her words. Her face blanched when she realized what she referred to. "You sneaky little...so that's why you suggested that deal with him."

Asa shrugged. "It was partly a joke, but I needed something to keep you in check. I know you never go back on your promises. Alphonse won't be any different. You promised to carve a path towards his goal. He wants to build a home, and your anger towards the man who destroyed our village will jeopardize that. All it takes is for Alphonse to be associated with us when you exact your revenge. It will ruin everything for him."

Kirie seized her chainmail from the floor and threw it on with an irritated huff. She turned her back to Asa as she started fitting her chestplate. "Don't you want it too? Look what he did to us."

"I do," Asa answered. "But I won't jeopardize our new home for the sake of it."

Asa waited as her sister let out a stream of curses. Kirie donned the rest of the armor and roughly pulled on her leather gloves. Her fingers flexed tight and agitated. If not for the gloves, her nails might have drawn blood from her palm.

Asa heaved a heavy sigh and went about her own preparations. "Listen, Kirie, even if our paths diverge, there is still the possibility that they might meet again and lead towards the same goal. There are plenty of stops along the way. I want Alphonse's mission to be our main priority, and maybe he'll be willing to follow us when the time is right."

Kirie gave Asa another hard look before lowering her gaze to the floor. Her shoulders sagged as the reasoning took hold. She turned and stared at her double-edged axe propped against the wall. One of the blades reflected a blurred image of her face as she tilted her head and touched the hair clip concealing her scar. With another derisive snort, she wrenched the axe off the wall and walked past her sister with even, controlled steps.

Kirie stopped at the closed door to their room and gave the place one last wistful look. Her eyes lingered on a stack of books that Asa had added to her own personal collection.

"You're right," Kirie said. "I'll refocus."

She hesitated a moment before adding, "And maybe, I'll share a scar or two." She grabbed her traveling pack, opened the door and disappeared down the hallway.

Asa stared at the empty doorway as she finished her own preparations. Kirie really was quite the handful sometimes.

She smiled at the thought. "Well, at least I'll have someone else around to help me out."