Private Tales A Witness

[Lothar]

The Steppe - Just Passed the Anirian Border

Before the Republic had dawned upon the lands of Vel Anir, before there had been any hints of kindness or caring, Dreadlords had been the epitome of kraterocracy. There was no room for the weak at the Academy. No space for those who could not defend themselves or would not fight. Those who refused, were slaughtered. Either upon graduation or long before.

Those who did not learn were left behind, and those who lacked the ability to press their advantage over others?

They ended up like Lothar had.

Not quite useless enough to dispose of, but not quite a what a Dreadlord was supposed to be either. A soldier, or one in the future, but hardly what the mages of Vel Anir was supposed to be. A target for those others who had the strength that he did not. A constant whipping boy for Proctors and Peers alike. Lothar wasn't special in that regard. He was one of hundred over the years that had suffered the same fate. One of hundreds who had been mitigated, and who during the old days would very likely have ended up dead.

But unlike them, he had become something new.

For four days he had ridden with his companions. Two of them. One Odessa Urahil, who had little to no regard for him, but was hardly one of those that had made his life a constant fall of misery. The other? Torrin Al'mere.

One of the worst of the ilk who had brought him low again and again.

Torrin was powerful. One of the strongest of their class. His magics having come as naturally as taking a breath. He had always excelled, and that talent swiftly pulled him to the top of their class. A position that he had lorded over others, and in particular Lothar. Using him as a punching bag, painting upon him a mark for ridicule and ensuring he would never forget the days of torture even now.

For four days he had endured the companionship of Torrin. Small 'jests' flickering into near every conversations, insults hurled and reminders offered of all those days now passed.

To Torrin, Lothar was a lesser. So when it had come time to decide who would sleep and who would stay on watch, the choice had been obvious.

That was why Lothar found himself awake, a knife clutched in his hand, the tip of the blade hovering just an inch from Torrin's throat. Besides where crouched, just a span or two away lay Odessa, sleeping, or so he thought.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Missions, which were once exciting and new, had begun to lose their appeal to Odessa Urahil. Another day, another trip to some location she’d never heard of with two initiates who were no more than strangers to her. It was…hard. She asked to be sent alone on missions, but was promptly denied or given an alternate suggestion that involved her brother tagging along to ensure her survival.

This arrangement that now included Lothar and Torrin was not ideal, but it was preferable to anything involving Leander.

Over the days they rode, she paid little mind to either of them. She had shared one mission previously with Lothar, but had formed no bond with the man. It was unspoken, but both knew where they stood in regards to those around them. Compared to Torrin (or in Odessa's case, Torrin and her brother), they were close to useless outside their scope of magic. Whatever Lothar’s scope might be. She was unsure about him.

As for Torrin and his…conversation…She could only presume his words were never directed at her because she was at least a Urahil. Though considerably less powerful than Leander, she was still from one of the houses. Unlike her brother, however, she never demanded respect nor did she proclaim she was a superior being.

Odessa rode behind the boys and largely ignored their “conversations” over the four days. That was, aside from one where Torrin had pushed Lothar with words beyond what one would consider cruel. A sudden, sharp pain in Torrin’s left leg would be the only warning from Odessa as she pulled the hilt of her sai and removed it's blade from her own leg. There was to be no infighting.

Torrin’s orders did not come as a surprise as he divvied up the sleeping and guarding arrangements and although she did not agree with his reasoning, she did not fight it. She was tired- just as they all were.

Only minutes after Torrin layed down could she hear the soft snores coming from him. Odessa had never been able to sleep well on the cold, hard ground. Instead she would shut her eyes and remain still, listening for any sounds their guard may not have picked up from his position.

Crunch.

The footsteps stopped as suddenly as they had started, coming from where Torrin lay. His snores were still audible. Someone was moving.

She opened her eyes, but made no other movements. Lothar? She watched as the boy crouched over their companion with a knife. Was he fucking crazy? Torrin was a dickhead, but killing him would not solve anything.

And still, Odessa chose to do nothing but watch the scene play out.

Lothar

 

[Lothar]

This was foolish, he knew.

Lothar had killed the other three on missions alone with them. Had made sure there had been a proper story that he could tell the Academy. Killing Torrin now would be a gambit. Convincing Odessa that something had happened would be next to impossible.

He would have to kill her too.

A shame, but there was no other choice, and perhaps the loss of his sister would impart a small bit of pain to another of his torturers before Lothar finally took his eyes as well.

Slowly he took in a deep breath. Looming over the other Dreadlord before slowly he pressed the tip of his knife into the man's throat. Torrin's eyes snapped open, but by then it was already too late. The blade pierced through his flesh, stabbing through his esophagus and dragging slowly to the side. Hand clamping over the other Initiate's mouth.

The boys eyes popped open wide, a struggling gurgle escaping from him as blood began to spill from the wound, the blade carving further as his hands slowly drifted up Torrin's face. "Shhhh."

He whispered, leaning in.

"I wanted to thank you." Lothar continued, his other hand slowly passing higher towards the boys hand. His own skin splitting as blackened tendrils drew forth from his flesh, drawing around the lids of Torrin's eye and snaking around the dull white orb in his skull. "Without you..."

Torrin tried to scream, but the blade had cut too deep. The only call coming from his lips a pathetic gurgle of blood. "I never would have understood."

The tendrils pulled back, wrapping around Torrin's eye and ripping it free from the boys skull. "There can be no mercy."

He whispered, turning his palm as he peered at his new prize. The iris of the eye changing slowly before him, it's color shifting as the magic within took rooted and took hold. One of the tendrils piercing through the back, and slowly drawing it into Lothar's own flesh.

Odessa would see as the eye disappeared into Lothar's palm, and then suddenly a lid drew open on the back of his hand.

The new eye shifting, and then suddenly staring right at her.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

She held her breath, silently watching it all unfold in front of her. For reasons she didn’t know, it appeared as though Lothar was hesitating before finally driving the knife through Torrin’s neck.

Perhaps it was a prayer for himself…or Torrin…

She doubted it.

It was no secret that Odessa had no sense of pain. Her look of horror had little to do with the violent scene in front of her, but rather the sound.

Odessa had never harmed anyone directly except for herself which took focus away from the little details like the sharp tearing sounds that flesh made as the knife was pushed deeper and deeper into her comrade’s throat. Or the gurgling and gasping as blood filled his airways.

She felt sick, but still she was frozen in fear.

The squelching, wet sound that accompanied Torrin’s eye being pried from the socket finally caused her to break the silence. A quiet gag was followed by vomit filling her mouth as what she could assume was the optic nerve finally snapped, freeing the eyeball from its connections.

She swallowed it and finally exhaled the breath she’d been holding in for far too long. Not even a second later, a chill was going down her spine.

He, or rather it, was looking at her.

“Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck” She repeated herself multiple times, kicking furiously to get the blanket off of her body.

She was panicking, which was bad.

Not only had she completely tangled herself up in the blanket, but she’d managed to forget that even if Lothar did drive a knife through her throat, it would not kill her unless he managed to destroy every vital organ in the process.

“Please. Please. PLEASE!” She was practically hyperventilating as she begged him to spare her. “Please Lothar. I won’t tell anyone. I promise.”

 

[Lothar]

Torrin's head lulled to the side, an empty socket and a desperate, pleading gaze looking towards Odessa as she began to scramble away. A final pleading cry for mercy, for savior bubbled up from his torn throat as his life began to fade but it was overshadowed by Lothar's voice. "I didn't think you were awake."

There was a surprising calm to his tone, a striking antipathy to the pleading hysteric that Odessa offered in exchange for her life.

Slowly mismatched eyes turned towards the other Initiate. A haze of pink and blue regarding her as she tried her best to back away from him. A sickening wrench of flesh echoed out as the knife in his hand ripped free from Torrin's throat. A pool of crimson spreading out beneath him as Lothar stood from his crouch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't think you would have to suffer." He said as he slowly began to walk towards her. The eye within his palm staring at her even as his hand hung at his side. He seemed to stumble for a moment, blinking and shaking his head. "Oh..."

Lothar said, bringing the hand up and over his eyes, letting only the one on his palm remain open. "I didn't think..."

The eye shifted, moving and looking around the clearing.

A laugh echoed from his throat, his incoherence continuing as he let his hand drop and he took another step towards her. "I'm still learning."

Lothar explained, a wicked and unhinged grin drawing over his lips.

"But you know why I can't let you live, right?" He said, the blood dripping from the edge of his knife as he stalked towards Odessa. "You'd go running to your brother, the Proctors...I can't have that."

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Her panicked pleas were to no avail. Lothar didn’t listen- or maybe, rather, he didn’t care. She had witnessed Torrin’s death and now it appeared that it was her turn.

She averted her eyes from her classmate to watch as the blood pooling had reached the ends of her hair, staining the tips of it. “I-” She tried to speak as Lothar stumbled, but was promptly silenced by the eerie laughter.

This couldn’t have been the same Lothar she’d been riding with for four days. It was certainly not the same one she’d traveled to Arnim with. Had he been possessed at one of their stops? Did it matter? No. Odessa had no time to guess; it was too late.

“No! No.” She gasped through her tears, bringing her hands up to defend herself as she managed to finally untangle her body from the blanket. “I promise! No. Not my brother. Not the proctors. Not a soul.” The pace at which she spoke made her words barely intelligible.

The dreadlord initiate had never been in such a pathetic position. She had never imagined begging for mercy at the hands of some filthy knife ear, let alone her classmate and with all her weapons conveniently not attached to her body, she had little option but to beg.

“No one has to know, Lothar.” Blood from the knife dripped on her cheek and she stiffened. “Tell me what you want from me. I will do it. Just please. Please. Please….” Hysterical sobs prevented the end of her sentence.

 

[Lothar]

Droplets of blood slowly dripped from the point of his knife. Still warm crimson splashing across Odessa's face and mixing with tears as she continued to beg for her life.

The tip of the knife stopped.

It hovered just inches away from her, his palm still as Lothar peered down at his whimpering peer. For a brief second he did not see Odessa Urahil. He did not see his classmate begging for her life. He saw himself, a reflection of years gone by.

Moments where he had begged, pleaded, and been offered nothing.

For a second mercy flickered through his chest. A feeling that he had so often wished his tormentors would feel. A thing that he had begged for. Something that made him weak. Something that they had never felt and would never feel.

He stared down at her, all three eyes peering at Odessa and seeing only that reflection of himself.

Was he weak?

No, but that didn't meant he had to be like them. "Help me kill them."

The words fell from his mouth before he really knew what he was saying.

"Help me kill them." Lothar repeated, a droplet of blood falling onto her cheek as he continued. "Help me take what made them strong."

Their eyes, their magic. "And I'll let you live."

Was there a guarantee that she would not betray him? Was there anything to say she could not turn and slash his throat? No, but it was a chance, an opportunity. Why waste a life? She had never tormented him, never broken his bones or thrown him against the wall.

Not like her brother.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

The gaze from all three of his eyes burned into her skin as he hesitated. She couldn’t look at them, focusing instead on the knife hovering just above her. She counted the drops of blood as she waited. And waited…

Help me kill them.

“What?” She turned her head, catching a droplet of Torrin's blood at the edge of her mouth. “What…what do you mean? Why? I don’t-”

Help me take what made them strong. And I’ll let you live.

Her heart dropped.

It made sense now. Initiates had been going missing. Initiates like Torrin, who were powerful enough to survive on their own. Yet somehow, only Lothar returned with stories that never quite made sense. How did this weakling survive ambushes?

Would have been nice for the proctors to warn her to sleep with a knife if they were sending her to make sure another one of the strongest in their class was at risk of being murdered by one of their unhinged psychopaths. Or maybe they could have kept this dog on its leash somewhere far, far away from the initiates of value.

Initiates like Leander.

She hated to admit it, but he had some striking similarities to Torrin and the other three had which mysteriously disappeared. He was powerful. He was obnoxious. He was an absolute dickhead. He enjoyed torturing Lothar. Even told Odessa that Lothar liked it when she announced their mission together.

He was an unfathomably awful piece of shit, but he was her brother. She may not have liked him, but she still loved him.

He couldn’t be suggesting…

No…

“Kill who?”

 

[Lothar]

Lothar stared down at her, that odd emptiness still clinging to both of his eyes. There was no emotion behind them, no feeling.

Perhaps all of this would have been easier if she could have seen anger, hatred, or even a semblance or flicker of emotion. Yet there was nothing within the violet and blue that peered down at her. His face was like a mask, a statue staring down at her without a single hint of feeling at all. Not even dispassion filled his voice as he continued to speak.

"You know who I mean." He said softly.

Another droplet of crimson plummeted from the knife. Time seeming to slow as it fell and splashed against her skin.

"Orin." He said, invoking the name of another of their peers. Another one of those that had beaten him. Had tried to break him. "Valeria, Piotr, Semir."

There was no shortage of names. They had all delighted in their tortures, and in his head he could picture each and every one of them. He listed each and every single one. A dozen total, ending with one final name. "Leander."

Slowly he turned his hand, allowing the eye he had taken from Torrin to look down upon Odessa. It stared down at her, unnerving in it's focus. "I want to take from them the thing they value most. What made them strong."

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Lothar would witness the blonde stop writhing to get away. The list of names came as no surprise to her. Each and every one. Some she only knew in passing. Some were friends of her and Leander. God had he really been tortured by so many?

Odessa supposed she was lucky. Beatings and torture meant very little when you couldn’t feel it. But the emotional abuse…the constant comparisons to her twin had cut deeply. She was nothing. She had no reason to be here. The academy was for the strong. Not for some freak who woke up in her own coffin days after she’d been declared dead.

Leander was strong and Odessa was only a glorified torture device for people to use.

Was it selfish to consider Lothar’s proposal? Definitely. Twelve lives in exchange for one. A life with little potential. An expendable pawn whose presence had little impact on the grand scheme of things. It was foolish. No. It was worse.

“I…” Odessa looked at the eye on his hand. She could accept the others on his list, but refused the final. “Not Leander. Please.”

Her breathing had gone from rapid and shallow to slow, deep breaths as she prepared herself to speak. “I will assist you with eleven, but I cannot allow you to kill my brother.” She paused again, taking another deep breath. “Is there anything else I can exchange his life with?”

 

[Lothar]

Lothar let out a laugh, and yet there was no joy behind it. Only bitterness. "You want to bargain for him?"

There was a mixture of disgust and disbelief in his voice, as if he couldn't understand why she would ever want to do such a thing. His head shook, and slowly the blade that had been hovering over her face moved to the side.

It was still there, just inches from her throat, but no droplets would continue to fall on her face.

"Do you think he would afford you the same?" He asked. "Do you think he wouldn't give your life away in a heartbeat if it meant preserving his own?"

Lothar shook his head. "Think about it. Every selfish moment. Every cruel word. Every second of your life you were relegate, mitigated."

"Tell me." He demanded. "What do you think he would do?"

 

[Odessa Urahil]

His laughter, so cold and detached, was more traumatizing than the murder that had just taken place. It was evident that Lothar had not been acting out of passion. He’d been planning all of this for quite some time. Every detail, every mission had been of his careful arranging. He was a monster.

And yet, some part of her could agree with him.

She knew the answer to all of his questions. There was no doubt that Leander would give her life in exchange for his. He’d left her for dead plenty of times before with injuries that would kill any normal human, all so he didn’t have to get his hands dirty. He would do it again.

He’d probably kill her himself if it meant he could live.

But if she were in his shoes, she would choose the same.

She turned her head to the side, avoiding his eyes. They both knew exactly what Leander would do.

“He’d leave me here…” She bit hard on her cheek to stop herself from crying. “But it doesn’t justify killing him. I’m better off here. I can handle this. I’ll be okay.” It was unclear if the girl was surrendering or giving herself a pep talk. “I would die a thousand times for my brother.”

 

[Lothar]

A scowl pulled at his lips, and for the first time she would see an emotion touch his eyes.

Rage.

Lothar couldn't understand, it didn't make any sense. Odessa admitted to it. She knew that her brother would leave her behind, that he would gladly sacrifice her life if it meant saving his own. Yet she would still save him? She would still trade herself for him?

It was nonsense.

The knife slowly moved forward. It pressed against the delicate skin on Odessa's neck, painting a crimson line as slowly Lothar began to carve into her skin. "You're a fool."

He said as the blade slowly drew a thin line of blood from her throat.

"But I'm going to let you live." Lothar said the words as the dagger suddenly switched track, and Odessa would realize what he was doing. Not cutting her throat, not ending her life, but drawing a sigil. A rune. "You're going to help me kill the others."

The Initiate said as he continued to carve into her flesh. "And by the end..."

He trailed off. "We'll see how you feel about your brother."

 

[Odessa Urahil]

She held her breath as he dragged the knife along her neck. The pressure along her neck was lighter than most wounds she’d sustained, but the warmth oozing from it confirmed that he had, in fact, drawn blood. If he was going to kill her for choosing incorrectly, he sure was taking his sweet time with it.

Odessa had grown impatient, and as she reached upward to finish the job herself, he spoke again. She felt a shift in the dagger’s path, but for what reason, she didn’t know. She could only make out that he had not pushed it any deeper than it had been. Was this a form of torture?

“Fine.” He was the fool for letting her live, but she’d agree to some of his terms for now. “But I do not intend to change my stance, Lothar.” Her eyes shut as he continued carving.

“I don’t care what he’s done or what he will do. I would give up my own eye right now if it meant I could buy him more time..."

She stopped herself from continuing on a tangent that would likely only anger Lothar even more.

“We will need a story for Torrin’s death.” Her deep blue eyes reopened on the corpse of the fallen initiate.

 

[Lothar]

He scoffed, the anger still in his voice. "A tempting offer."

Lothar said with a shake of his head as she spoke of giving her eye.

Odessa didnt understand, not yet, but she would.

"But I don't want yours." Because she did not deserve it, because she wasn't one of them. The knife flicked in another direction again, and the mark began to take shape upon her neck. It wasn't the most complex piece of rune magic, just enough. "You might be your brothers sister, but you're two different sides of a coin."

The blade stopped on her neck. "Swear you will help me with the Eleven."

Lothar demanded before he cut the final stroke of the rune. She would know that if she did, the mark would bind her to her word. To keep his secret, and help him with the rest.

"Then we can talk about Torrin." He knew by the end, she would want to kill Leander. He would make sure of it.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Two different sides of a coin, my ass.

His rejection only further proved what she had been trained to believe. Even when she offered all she had, it still did not compare to what Leander could give. He would always be better and she…would always be bitter and conflicted.

Odessa was quiet while he held the knife against her, awaiting her response.

“I swear.” She finally agreed to his terms, unaware of what she was truly getting herself into. It didn’t matter. She didn’t have many options to choose from. “But-”

She cut him off from the Torrin situation, propping herself up on her elbows with the knife still laying against her skin. She was in no position to make demands, but she could not agree without her curiosity being satisfied. “You have to tell me what you are doing with Torrin’s eye. After that, you have my promise, Lothar. I will help you.”

 

[Lothar]

The moment she said the words, Lothar cut the last line within the rune.

Odessa would feel the magic take hold, bind into place. Surprisingly dull, and with no compulsion save to fulfill her promise. He didn't think himself as cruel after all, only wanting to prove that he was right, a truth that she would come to see.

Slowly, as she posed her question, Lothar slipped the knife away from her neck. The blood upon the blade now slowed, no longer dripping as the cool air got to it.

He shifted back, so that he was no longer atop her and she could raise herself up a bit more. Then without a word he glanced towards the eye in the back of his palm. A frown touched his lips for a brief moment as he focused, trying to find that stillness he knew he needed. "I already told you."

Lothar said absently, and then suddenly she would see the eye blink.

Thin tracks of red dragged around the white's around it's iris, and a pulse seemed to ripple over it's sight.

Seconds later the earth just a few feet away exploded upward into a pillar of stone. Breaking from the ground and appearing like a pike. A simple manipulation of earth, and one that Odessa would immediately recognize as Torrin's magic.

"I am taking what makes them strong." He repeated.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

As Lothar backed away, Odessa would sit up and bring one hand to her neck before examining the blood he drew. She still had no idea what he actually had done, but she had a look of annoyance more than anything as she glowered at him. He had stained her expensive armor and for what? Some scar that would heal over in a few days?

It made no sense to her. ‘Taking what made them strong’? The little runt took their eyeballs, not their muscles or brains. As far as she knew, Lothar wasn’t blind. And as for Torrin, Odessa swore up and down the boy needed glasses, but feared suggesting it given his temper and reputation. It. Made. No. Sense.

“You did not-” Odessa had begun to snap at him just as the stone emerged from the ground. She immediately moved to protect herself with her arms as some debris flew towards them.

Oh shit.

She glanced between the pike and the boy for a few seconds before she broke the silence. “I see…” She tried to hide the look of terror on her face, but was unsuccessful.

“What are you going to do when someone asks why you’re suddenly able to do what your recently deceased classmate could do? You know. The classmate that mysteriously died on a mission with you? Lothar, I don't mean to slight you but you are not exactly known for your...competency with magic.”

 

[Lothar]

Lothar let out a chuckle, though there was not even a hint of amusement to it. Sounding more like a dry rasp. "You assume that I'm going to let them know."

He had played this out in his head a dozen times.

The very question that Odessa had asked him plagued him before he'd ever killed the first two. Fear had taken hold of him, and he'd worried that even with this new power he would not be able to do anything. That he would have to keep even this strength to himself.

Yet he'd quickly found it was not so. Three had now died, and the only one who knew was Odessa. He could keep his secret, as long as he did not show the magics he had taken.

"I can play the fool for another year." That was how long until they would graduate. "I'll let them beat on me, ridicule me, think me useless."

Shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. "It will be no different than most the rest of my life."

He would have to hide the eyes of course, and apparently he could not control where they appeared...but that was a problem for another day. "And once we graduate? Do you really think anyone will care? Or will they just see a powerful new Dreadlord to use and send around as they see fit?"

 

[Odessa Urahil]

The all too familiar scowl returned to Odessa’s face. She did not assume anything. She knew it would happen. You could only push someone so far before they crack. And when Lothar finally cracked…

She shuddered at the thought.

“Do you really think you can?” Though her question was genuine, she could not hide that she did not believe him. Her tone matched that of Leander during most, if not all, of his encounters with Lothar (though, without the physical beating that accompanied it).

Her gaze flickered back over to Torrin’s body where she noticed the blood had slowed to an ooze from his wounds. She reached up to her own neck to wipe blood off the carving which had already closed, appearing as nothing more than a scratch on her skin.

“Fair enough it may be no different for you, but when we graduate may be a bit of an overstatement if you keep killing off our classmates.”

She stood from her spot and wandered over to where their meager supplies were kept. Rummaging through a bag, she continued. “Someone might care. Someone might notice. What is your plan when that happens? You have me for eleven lives. No more. You’re on your own after that.”

 

[Lothar]

Lothar frowned for a brief moment, the challenge to his plan coming in an unexpected way. The derision in her voice striking a point he hadn't thought it would. Eyes flickered over towards Torrin's corpse.

It had been foolish to kill him here, she was right.

There had been too much danger in it, but Lothar had let himself be pushed to the edge. Now he was saddled with someone who knew his secrets. The rune would bind her tongue, but she was right. Eleven murders were not so easy, especially now.

Perhaps in the old days it would have been simpler, but he would have to be careful. He would have to control himself better. "I will manage."

Lothar reiterated, though it was clear that he was trying to convince himself as much as he was her.

Acting like the little welp was far more difficult in a way than being the welp. He had power now, and it was difficult not to use it. He could not imagine what the temptations would be like once he took some of the other magics.

Those that would make him even stronger.

Unconsciously Lotahr put a hand over the eye in his palm.

"We'll have to be more careful." Lothar agreed, suddenly switching to we when he spoke of the plan. Glancing over her shoulder as she began to pick through their supplies. At least they wouldn't have to feed Torrin any more. "Choose who we take next more carefully."

Perhaps some would even have to wait until after graduation.

Maybe it was a good thing that Odessa had caught him. Her involvement forced him to slow down, to think. That, hopefully, would keep him from getting caught.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

“I guess that's fine…” Odessa shrugged, continuing to search the bags. Her tone had shifted from fear to one as though she hadn’t just witnessed a murder. “Still. Be careful. Perhaps there have been no negative consequences for you yet, but you can’t be sure stealing so much power has no effect.”

We. We. We. No. This was most definitely not a ‘we’ situation. It was a ‘Lothar is a fucking lunatic’ situation and a “Leander is my brother” situation. Not a we situation. She was not his accomplice. She was protecting her blood.
It was as simple as that.

“I suppose you should go on a few missions without killing your classmates.” She suggested. “Lower the suspicion, you know.”

An annoyed huff would be heard by Lothar as Odessa stood up and turned around. She was unsuccessful in finding the matches she thought she carried with her, which was probably for the better. Burning the body could draw unwanted attention to where they were camped out, which would not be good for either of them.

She nudged Torrin’s body with her shoe before focusing on Lothar. “I don’t suppose one of the initiates you killed has given you a power we can use to…dispose…of this.” She paused. “What all can you do exactly? I have a right to know, yes?”

 

[Lothar]

”Nothing is without consequence.” Lothar said, more to himself than to Odessa.

He had already been experiencing the side-effects of his stolen magics over the last few weeks. So far it was nothing he couldn’t deal with. Some illness, a wracking cough, nausea now and then of course. So far there was no real pain, not unless he used what he had stolen, but it would calm itself in time.

It had to. His own magics would see to that.

Lothar offered a sarcastic smile to Odessa as she spoke her next suggestion. A thought that he had already contended with. Luckily they were in the stages where Proctors were eager to send them out, so getting a ‘screen’ of missions would not be too difficult.
At least creating that image for himself wouldn’t be too difficult. ”No.”

Lothar said as he walked over towards Torren. ”But I’ll drag him into the woods. The wolves can have him.”

It was more than he deserved.

”I’ve only taken two others.” Lothar said as he stepped up to the now dead Initiate, grabbing his shoulders as he began to drag him towards the woods. ”Raine’s Puppetry and the Sight.”

Two powers that were not particularly strong, but that was why he had been able to take them. Puppetry was simple enough, allowing him to control anyone as long as they looked him in the eye. Though the longer he held the control, the more difficult it became.

The sight was more useful, allowing him to see through things while noticing details than someone ordinary might miss. It often times did not seem all that impressive, but the sheer amount of details one picked up led into a cacophony of other benefits. ”I will need more.”

Lothar commented as he continued to drag Torren.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Nothing is without consequence.

A statement that made Odessa pause and think. She knew what he was saying, but it struck a different chord in Odessa. One that…hurt in a way she couldn’t describe properly. She was just a consequence for the Urahils. Their parents wanted Leander. Odessa was the consequence. A consequence that did not go unpunished.

Her father hated her. She was sure her older brother Felix did as well. How else could they explain the ‘accidental’ death of four year old Odessa. And of course, the consequence of that- when Odessa came back with a vengeance- was the death of their beloved mother.

And even after all they did, she still couldn’t separate herself from her blood.

His sarcastic smile sent Odessa looking towards the ground. Gods was she conflicted.

So that’s what happened to Raine…

Her attention was brought back into the conversation as he spoke of his newfound powers. “The sight?” She finally moved to help him with the body, asking more questions. “I am not familiar with the sight. Who is that from?” She racked her brain for other missing initiates, but couldn’t place it. After all, initiates did go missing all the time. They weren’t all exactly prized possessions like Leander and Lumen.

"Lothar. I feel as though it may be a bit late to ask this, but what are we supposed to do after we leave Torrin...? Are we going to continue on with our mission one man down or...do we just say we failed and accept whatever punishment they have for us? What exactly is your plan?

 

[Lothar]

"Uther." Lothar said as he finally reached the edge of the clearing, dropping Torren's corpse there and quickly squatting down at his side.

He began to poke through the other Initiate's pockets. Removing a few coins he'd had in his trousers as well as some smaller things from his satchel. After ensuring that he had nothing else of value, Lothar looked down at the eye now settled in his palm. "He was the one with the bow."

Lothar reminded Odessa.

"Liked to shoot arrows at me feet." To make him 'dance'.

A scowl flickered over his features, and his fingers flexed. Suddenly a pulse seemed to run over the eye buried in the Initiate's flesh.

The earth just a few feet away from him shifted once more. This time curling in on itself as a hole formed almost instantly, dug to perfect as Lothar let out a heavy breath. His chest rising and falling as a wave of tiredness suddenly floated over him.

It was always difficult to use new magics at first.

After a moment more Lothar slowly stood up, grasping Torren's feet once more and dragging him into the pit he had created. "We finish the mission."

Lothar confirmed.

"We don't need Torren to complete the delivery." The road was supposedly dangerous, but the two of them could handle a few bandits.