The aqua sky of the early morning began to show through the stained glass window Bellona slept under, and the light that began to shine through fell softly on her skin. She awoke to warmth, familiar yet foreign, rolling over on the couch to see a rainbow of color alight above. In her overdrawn haziness, she thought she saw a figure looming over her, but as she rubbed her eyes and focused she realized there was no one there.

  She pulled herself up and opened her bag that sat on the floor at her feet, digging through her belongings until she pulled a leather-bound book from the bottom. Her fingers lingered on each page, tracing each stroke and flick as if she were remembering exactly how to draw the pictures. Then, on the final page, instead of focusing on the detailed picture of a poppy, Bellona traced her fingers along the signature on the bottom.

  Emerin.

  The bed next to her stirred with movement and she quickly put the book back in her bag as Teslin sat up, groggy and waking slowly. His face was scrunched and his hair fell all over the place, and his shirt had twisted around in his sleep. The boy slept like a monster and his constant moving kept her awake longer than it should have, but Bellona was able to survive on what little sleep she could get. Sometimes she had to go without for a while.

  He seemed to still be half-asleep, so she greeted him first. “Good morning, sunshine.”

  He turned his head towards her first and his expression remained unchanged, but as he realized he wasn’t wearing his glasses, Teslin felt around on his lap for them.

  Bellona almost chuckled. “On the bedside table.”

  He twisted back around and reached for the bedside table, almost knocking his glasses to the floor, but he managed to grab them and put them back on. At first he looked her way, eyes wide in shock, but they only grew wider as he looked around the room and realized he was waking up in her abode this time.

  “What the…what happened?” he asked, although as his hand reached for his head, Bellona figured he was getting the answer all on his own. He noticed his other hand, particularly the fresh bandage wrapped around it, and looked to her for an explanation.

  “How bad does it hurt?” she asked, not willing to bring it up, “The hangover headache?”

  After looking her over for a moment, his eyes particularly hovering over hers, he groaned. “Like a Colossi trying to crush my head like a grape. I guess I drank too much, huh?”

  Bellona shrugged. “Might as well have. You won’t be drinking like that under my tutelage, that’s for sure.”

  Teslin furrowed his brows as he looked up at her. “W-What?”

  She realized she enjoyed putting him off guard, leaning forward on the plush chair she’d slept in so she was closer to his face, examining every detail for how he responded. “Do you still want to become my Apprentice?”

  At first he seemed nervous at how close she got to him, but once she said the magic words, his boundless excitement seemed to take him over like he was possessed by it. His crooked smile widened and she could see a tooth missing on one side. He had such a youthful appearance, although hardened muscles and a tall, stocky build gave away that he wasn’t a child. But when he smiled at her, it was so full of childlike wonder, and it filled Bellona with anxiety.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

  And when Teslin said things like that, her anxiety soared unbound.

  She leaned back in the chair and avoided his gaze, absentmindedly picking at the skin around her nails. “Look, I can’t promise you anything. You’re familiar with my unfavourable reputation, so I don’t know what makes you think that I’d be any good as a Guide.”

  He smiled. “Well, I guess…rumors are just that. I’d rather put my faith in what I can see and feel than the words of others. And I think that the kind of person who’s got some of the strongest magic in the world, but refuses to use it against even those who would seek to harm her, is the exact kind of person I want to learn from.”

  That kind of praise didn't sit right with Bellona, and she had the thought of disputing it to try and cease his interest in her, but there were things about him that piqued her own interest. His magic going haywire, for one—it was unnatural, and that was all she knew. If she was to take him on, she would at least get a little poking and prodding out of it. If she took him on.

  “Alright, get up,” she tapped his leg as she stood from her chair, “wash yourself up in the baths, and meet me by the fire when you’re ready.”

  He started climbing out of bed immediately, although not without a multitude of grumbles and groans as he held his head in his hands. As he stumbled his way out of the room—shutting the door as softly as he could behind him—Bellona collapsed back into the chair for a moment, exasperated from the simple exchange. Taking on an Apprentice was a majorly bad idea, and she couldn’t believe herself for even entertaining the idea. If training with her didn’t end up with his death, it certainly would with hers.

  She waited for Teslin at a table by the massive fireplace on the ground floor of the Hearth, ordering a platter of breakfast foods from Mhkai’s nephew Lawrel, who ran the kitchen while his uncle tended the bar. As she waited, stealing bites of breakfast sausage, eggs, and toast, she started to write some notes down in her leather-bound book about the events of the day before. Primarily about Imos and the feeling of searing poison the Guardian inflicted.

  He finally emerged from the common baths a little while later, face flushed with rosy cheeks of happiness. His hair was still gravity defying, but in a much neater way. “I haven’t had a good, long soak like that in a while! Do they put something in the water to make it smell so good?”

  Bellona was already done with the conversation and she hadn’t even entered it yet.

  “All that matters is you don’t smell like a wet dog anymore.”

  “...I smelled that bad?”

  Instead of entertaining him with a response, she furrowed her brows and pointed to the chair on the other side of the table. “Sit.”

  Luckily for her, Teslin was in the mood to actually listen, and he quickly sat down. As she caught him eyeing the tray of food, she made a motion to it and a nod, and right away he grabbed a piece of toast and stacked eggs and sausage on top.

  Bellona crossed her arms and watched with a moderate amount of disgust as he shovelled the food into his mouth like a snake unhinging its jaw to swallow prey whole. “You eat and you listen, understand?”

  Teslin nodded and tried to say something in response, but with the amount of food stretching his cheeks out, all that came out was garbled and messy.

  She took a moment to pause and choose her words carefully, “if I’m going to agree to this whole Guide thing—if,” she emphasized as she watched his eyes widen excitedly, “I need to figure out exactly who you are and what I’m going to be dealing with. So that means nothing less than full and complete honesty from you, got it?”

  He choked the food in his mouth down and nodded. “Understood, ma’am.”

  Bellona winced. “Yeah, don’t call me that.”

  “Oh, uh…Arjblinka?”

  “No. Not that either.”

  Teslin stared for a moment. “Then…Bell—”

  “You can call me Master. And nothing else.”

  Something changed in his face for the briefest of moments that Bellona only barely caught—familiarity, surprising familiarity. But then he smiled with his teeth and it was like she’d seen nothing at all.

  “Yes, Master Creed!”

  She had to look away for a moment and her eyes stole away to the flickering flames within the fireplace. It didn’t matter what he called her, all of it felt wrong and even what she’d settled on reminded her of events from years past she tried hard to forget. The whole arrangement just felt wrong. But she couldn’t get Mkhai’s words out of her head, the memories resurfacing with them twisting her judgment.

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  For the following hour, Bellona questioned Teslin of anything she deemed necessary. He was eager and answered everything with enthusiasm, and to her judgment he seemed sincere with his information. No red flags or conflicting info muddling up the story of his life, although the period where he claimed to have no memories piqued some worries—though, based on what Mkhai had said, it was likely something trauma-based as it directly followed the Urisees Massacre.

  “So, wait,” she suddenly said, examining the notes she’d been taking over the course of their talk, “this means you’re…nineteen?”

  “Yeah, I’m pretty sure I am. Though with the gap years it’s hard to be sure.”

  She squinted as she looked him up and down. “You do not look nineteen.”

  “I know, I know, I’m pretty mature looking—but I promise I haven’t been this handsome for very long!”

  Bellona’s nose crinkled in disgust.

  “A-Also!” he raised his voice as it cracked, “Please don’t think that I’ll have any issues taking orders from someone younger than me! I promise that age doesn’t matter to me!”

  Heavens hold me back from killing him…

  “I’m older than you, so it doesn’t matter.”

  The shock on his face and the way he returned fire by looking her up and down enraged her so fiercely she had to hold herself back from reaching for Ironbark resting against the wall.

  “There’s no way you’re older than me!” Teslin exclaimed, “You look so much—”

  “I’d choose your next words extra carefully.”

  The smile on his face dropped faster than it’d come about in the first place. “Uh, better! You look so much better than I do! A true beauty if I’ve ever seen one. And—”

  “Enough,” Bellona harshly cut him off, writing more notes in her book and trying not to let her discomfort show on her face. She wasn’t beautiful, he was just saying so to fill the air and make a poor attempt at getting on her good side. Her face was not painted in color and enhancements for aesthetic perfection—it was used as a palette for blood and tears, forever stained with the artist’s aggressive scraping. Her scars were a testament to the person she was, a reminder that she was never far behind, no matter how fast Bellona ran from her.

  “So,” Teslin started again after a long silence, “how much older are you, then?”

  She looked up from the book unamused. “None of your business.”

  “Oh, come on!” he whined, “You can’t be that much older than me. It’s not a big deal!”

  “So drop it.”

  “But I just—”

  “According to her Slayer profile, Miss Bellona here is twenty years of age.”

  Bellona snapped her head around to find Mkhai standing behind them, holding the Keeper’s Tome in his hands. The smile he bore on his face, as if he was looking through a facade of hers, added to the disbelief and annoyance she suddenly stuttered her way through—which he only seemed to delight in further.

  “And here I thought our information was supposed to be private,” she said through grit teeth, shooting Mkhai a glare that didn’t faze him even slightly.

  Worst of all, Teslin’s energy levels skyrocketed at the revelation, a big goofy smile spreading on his face. “Oh, we’re so close in age! If only we’d known each other as children, perhaps we could have been friends, Master!”

  “Master? What’s this?” Mkhai quipped, “So you’ve decided to take the boy under your wing after all, Miss Creed?”

  It was like somehow Mkhai and Teslin were in cahoots to corner her and drive her mad.

  And boy, were they good at it.

  Bellona opened her mouth to deny the claims outright, but looking up at the older man’s face, his words from the night before were borne back into her within the soft and somber look in his eyes. He’s a survivor of the Urisees Massacre.

  She clicked her teeth and leaned back in her chair, crossing her arms in defeat. “I’m debating it, but I haven’t come to a decision yet. He’s rather annoying. If I have to put up with this all the time I might go insane.”

  She thought Teslin would be offended, but his smile and gaze never faltered. Even more annoying.

  “Whatever you need to make a proper decision, just say the word, Master Creed.”

  Surprisingly, at least he was good at taking orders.

  After a quiet awkwardness settled in for a long moment, Bellona stood up. “Let’s go take a walk, shall we?”

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  Even if Bellona did decide to take on Teslin as her Apprentice, she had no idea what her training would even look like. Mirroring the training she received wasn’t possible, and besides that, from what she gathered Teslin’s magic was much different than her own. She wasn’t exactly a qualified teacher in any regard, but entertaining the possibility was something she’d inadvertently started to do, and if she was to teach she would need to form a baseline.

  She led Teslin to the edges of the city and beyond, out the Northwest gates towards an expanse of pine trees. The area wasn’t exactly closed off, but it wasn’t often frequented since it was out of Imos’s protection, so she had faith that they’d be left alone. Sure enough, as they trekked through the trees and made it to a clearing with a large pond in the middle of it, the snow was fresh and untouched.

  Although Teslin had been enthusiastic about doing whatever needed doing to be accepted, he seemed nervous to have been led out of the city to the solitude of only their own company. As if he was afraid to be alone with her. Finally, she realized what it was about Teslin that made her so uneasy: he hadn’t been treating her like everyone else did up until then. He knew about the rumors, her titles, the horrors that followed her—but he had been treating her like she wasn’t a threat whatsoever.

  But now, as he looked around rapidly and kept searching her face for answers to questions she could only imagine, things felt much more normal.

  “W-What are we doing out here?” he finally asked as they broke out from the line of trees into the clearing.

  Bellona tilted her head. “You said you’d do whatever I need to make a decision, right?”

  He nodded, although hesitantly.

  “Show me your magic.”

  Teslin’s brows furrowed and he stared, immobilized in his confusion. “I—” he started, his tone unsure and uneasy, “I don’t understand.”

  “You want me to teach you to control your magic, no?” Bellona stepped closer to him, unsheathing Ironbark and using it to lift his cloak over his metal arm. “I need to know what I’m dealing with.”

  He looked at his arm, flexing with a closed fist. “The magic is infecting me.”

  “Obviously. But why?”

  “I don’t know. It’s been spreading like this for a few years now, ever since I—”

  “Since you came back?”

  The way Teslin snapped his head up and gazed at her, with such a striking longing and regret, said everything she needed to hear. Having a trauma so deep-rooted and blocking out significant parts of your life, only to awaken and find your own magic consuming you from the inside out, no wonder he was so desperate for help. Bellona couldn’t fathom why he thought she was the best person to help, but she understood how she had to.

  She reached out with her hand. “Let me see your arm.”

  Teslin drew himself back. “No! You can’t touch it!”

  Bellona squinted. “How am I supposed to help you if you won’t let me?”

  He was shaking his head, his closed fist so tight his whole arm seemed to follow the same rhythm. “I…I can’t. The magic, it…it spreads.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I mean, if you touch the metal…it could spread and infect you, too.”

  There it was: the honesty she’d been searching for. The truth behind Teslin’s desperation, behind his seeking her out. He couldn’t control his magic, and it wasn’t just killing him, but anyone else that came into contact with it. He didn’t want her to teach him how to protect others—he wanted her to be able to protect herself from him. Suddenly she understood why he looked so concerned over her changing the bandage on his hand.

  Bellona stepped even closer, and Teslin backed up, hiding his arm under his cloak. She continued advancing on him until he had his back to the itchy bark of a large pine, and she pinned him there with Ironbark on one side of him and her hand on the other. He was certainly taller than her, with a much stockier build, and if he wanted to use his brute strength she didn’t doubt he could move her out of his way with ease. But he wouldn’t. If he was afraid of his magic spreading, he wouldn’t touch her.

  “Please, don’t, I’m…”

  His fear was so close to home she could feel her hardness wavering. She wanted to help him if she could.

  If she could.

  “Teslin,” she said softly, “you sought me out because I’m one of the strongest Metal Servants in the world. Don’t insult me. I’ll be fine.”

  He almost looked like he had tears in his eyes, and Bellona’s heart began to waver. “Can you promise me that?”

  In truth, she couldn’t. She was powerful, and her mastery of her Path was certainly one of the best, but Metal Magic was a beast that she truthfully believed no mortal could completely control. But she wouldn’t tell him that. Instead she nodded, held his gaze unwaveringly, and lowered her hand to him.

  “I can.”

  Teslin searched her eyes for the truth, but he would not find it—she would not allow it. So he nodded, looked down at her hand, and placed his gently on top. His magic latched on immediately, coursing through her veins, infecting every inch of her. Shards of metal and crystal started to grow on her skin, and when Teslin noticed he tried to pull away, but Bellona held on tight. His magic was weaving, but so was she, following the way it came until she could feel its source. Wild, chaotic, like the eye of a thunderstorm. Crash upon crash, screams and growls and cries of pain all merged into one unbearable sound.

  “You have to stop!” Teslin shouted, his voice muffled. “It’s going to kill you!”

  “No,” she whispered, “you won’t.”

  His magic was strong, but she was determined to be stronger.