Completed Honesty is a One-Way Ticket to Heaven

[Henk]

Where are you going?

Henk turned around to face the faint remnant of the voice that haunted him, calling to him from within the house. It had seemed to authoritative, so deep and booming just days ago. Now it just sounded soft and pathetic.

Henk, did you hear me? Where are you going? Are you running away again?

For the first time since the morning of Graduation, a smile crossed his lips.

"I'm going to go become the Henk that they need. Just like you said. Once that's done, I'll be back."

Once that was done, he'd be back. Then he'd help them put an end to this nonsense once and for all.
​

---

He'd done what he'd set out to do-- accomplished his goal of becoming something more than he'd been before for the sake of his friends. That morning, a week after his entire world had crumbled to dust, he'd found the fire he'd been missing for so long. But while weakness can be beaten out of the body, and hesitation can be trained out of the mind, there is something that only the harsh and bitter edge of experience can truly cure...

Naivete.

When Henk had returned from his absence, there was no warm welcome waiting for him. Half of his friends had chosen a different path, one of servitude and wanton death in exchange for the promise of freedom. The other half now delivered that same plague of demise in the name of fighting the people who had once been their own. They were a family divided, and there was no time to pay a second glance to someone who wasn't strong enough to pick a side. Instead of smiles and greetings, he was met with anti-magic cuffs and a cell.

He was just another criminal to them. It was only because of that weakness he'd shown that he was spared and given another chance. One final opportunity, to try and mend the broken pieces he'd left behind so many months ago. One last shot at stopping the only family he'd ever had from annihilating themselves entirely. Today had been that new beginning-- his first mission as a full-fledged Dreadlord.

It hadn't gone to plan.

The aches that radiated throughout Henk's entire body as he sat cross-legged outside of the small roadside Tavern he and his allies had stopped at were telling signs of the hardship they had faced. Now, staring up at the sky underneath a blanket of stars, the words spoken to him by someone close echoed in his head again, the plea that had been made to him upon his return as clear as when he'd first heard it. Please, just run. Get back home. As powerful as he'd become if the strength that they'd faced today was only the beginning... Was it enough?

A noise from the building behind him tore him from his doubts, and he turned to look back at the Inn with his working eye. A dim light flickered from the second-floor window of the old wooden building, the sound of footsteps echoing out into the deathly quiet of the night. There was only one second-floor room in the small tavern, and Henk knew who'd taken it.

Ebersol.

Slowly, Henk uncrossed his legs and pushed himself off of the grassy patch among the dirt he'd sat on, wincing at the pain that shot down his leg and swallowing an obscenity down into his throat as he pulled his cloak tightly around his neck. Sleep would evade him regardless of his actions, as it had for many nights since his return to Anir. Perhaps, if she did not loathe him as Alistair did, he could make himself useful in some other manner. They were teammates after all, right?

Shuffling into the darkened main room of the tavern, the snores of the innkeeper behind the drawn curtains of the small room behind the bar filled his ears. Henk carefully stepped over the wooden panels of the floor, and ascended the creaking staircase that led to the upper floor's room. If Lumen or Augustine could sleep through the snoring, he wished not to wake them. They had both well-earned their rest. Coming to the small landing at the top of the stairs, Henk raised a fist up to Everleigh's door, pausing a moment in hesitation before knocking softly on its splintered surface.

"Everleigh." He called softly. "It's Henk."

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh paused in what she was doing, the thin mattress flipped over as she inspected the seams. She heard him coming up the stairs. It only made sense with all the noise she was making in this room. But she had to check and make sure. Every corner, every inch— she had to confirm that there was nothing there listening or watching her.

Everleigh wasn’t so much as nervous as someone seeing her naked as much as she was about someone just knowing she was there in general. What if she said something in her sleep? Should she even sleep? Initiate Vern and Adagio were downstairs, with the two dreadlords, Augustine and Henk, they were probably safe.

Everleigh looks at the soft belly of the mattress filled with straw. Should she cut it open just to make sure? No, that was being ridiculous. The knock at her door made the young woman stand up. She could tell it was Henk by his footsteps. There was a way that he walked, even when he was being quiet, he just landed on his feet a little differently than everyone else.

Everleigh opened the door. Bandages covered her arms and palm and elsewhere, but her clothing could hide that. Her hair was still tied back in a braid, but strands of violet were falling out of it and her bangs were still a mess from being slicked back with sweat.

“If I didn’t know you any better I’d think you were trying to get lucky.” Her voice came out softly but the expression on her face was lively. She opened the door a bit wider and stepped aside although she leaned over to see if anyone was behind him. Her ears strained to hear anything else but all there was was a soft score of a snore. “Can’t sleep?” She asked once she shut the door behind him.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk smiled lightly at her teasing as she stepped aside to let him into the room, which looked as though a small twister had been traveling all four corners of it. If he had to guess, he'd say that said twister was purple and had a bit of a temper. "No, I don't much believe there's anything lucky about me, Everleigh."

It was just as he'd said to Edric shortly before returning, the chance of him seeing anything beyond death on the path he traveled was dwindling. He'd grown to accept that. Henk's eyes found the upturned mattress, and his expression softened a bit as he began to piece together what he'd walked in on.

"I'd say I'm not the only one..." He hummed, turning to look back at his old friend with warmth in his eyes. "I've been on watch, you know. You don't need to worry about..." He trailed off, shaking his head. No, it wasn't that simple, of course. Did any of them truly feel safe anymore? It felt like a luxury that had long passed them. Instead, he turned fully towards her, reaching into his cloak. "I picked something up for you, while I was gone. Meant to give it to you before the mission, but things got... hectic."

Sliding his hand back out of the small pocket, he presented something rectangular, wrapped in paper, seemingly as protection. "I... I liked to keep things that reminded me of my motivations on hand. I'd hoped to give them to everyone when I came back, but... I think you're about the only one of our class who will still speak to me." Kristen hadn't forgiven him, and neither had Alistair. He hadn't seen Ralene at all, nor Noel, ever since she'd taken him to the prison.

With a slow windup, he tosses her the rectangular object.

"Did you know that orcs make their own playing cards for gambling? I didn't, but I figured you might find a use for them."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She locked the door behind him. Not to trap him, not because anything would happen between them, but because it gave her that extra sense of comfort. Everleigh leaned against the door, watching Henk as he moved into the room that was a mess because of her. She was quiet as he spoke, but a curious eyebrow perked up at the mention of a gift. Who didn’t like gifts?

With ease she caught the neatly wrapped playing cards with one hand. She inspected the paper and then stopped. Henk was on her side. She shouldn’t have to make sure if he was trying to keep an eye on her, too. Everleigh’s face remained indifferent as she unwrapped the playing cards, lips curving up into a grin.

“Oh, I’ve heard about these,” she said, clearly excited. “Certain symbols can be seen once the cards are warmed, which you can do easily with a few shuffles. It’s great for playing matching games because as the cards lose heat, the symbol disappears as well.” Everleigh looked up from the gift and her expression was nothing but genuine gratitude. “Thank you. I’m going to scam so many idiots out of their money I’ll be rich by the end of this year.” She pushed herself off from the door, sliding the deck of cards into a pocket and then moved the mattress back onto the bed.

Picking up the sheets and pillow that had been thrown to the ground, Everleigh started the process of putting the bed back together.

“What do you mean no one else will talk to you?” She asked gently, glancing over at Henk. “I was under the impression you were welcomed back because of Noel.” But for all Everleigh knew, that could have just been a rumor.

It was a rumor that had made her bitter and envious altogether towards the both of them. Even if Everleigh gave her life, Zael couldn’t come back like Henk had. He’d never be able to after Ganfarred Keep.

The bed was made and Everleigh sat down on it. She patted the open spot next to her for Henk to sit as well. Everleigh brought her thumb up to her mouth, using the point of her canine to make herself bleed. The drop of blood would be enough to make a little purple scorpion appear. The unease she felt couldn’t be dismissed so easily. If there was anything suspicious, her little friend would find it.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk held back a chuckle at her immediate knowledge of how she'd use the unique deck of cars. So she hadn't completely changed, despite everything that they'd been put through. Good, if she could keep herself, then so too could he. "Somehow I knew you'd be able to put them to good use." He muttered, following her with his eye as she set about fixing the bed she'd tossed askew.

His optimism faded a bit at the mention of Noel. It was true, to an extent. The verbiage used was perhaps too generous, however. "Yes, well... It's true that I was allowed to say my piece and have a chance to redeem myself because of her insistence but to be honest, I haven't spoken to her since, and..." Henk slid his eyes shut and shook his head, reaching for his hips to unhook his katars and set them on an empty chair as he stepped towards the bed. "Just because the city decided to forgive me does not mean everybody within it shares in that opinion."

How could he blame them? In their eyes, he'd left them for dead in that forest. If the roles were reversed... he could not rule out the possibility that he would hate them for making that same choice. Turning to sit beside her on the edge of the bed, he rested his arms on his lap and tilted his head towards her.

"I left you all, Evie. I saw the only family I've ever had fall apart and turned my back so I didn't have to face that reality. I don't blame them for hating me." His fingers tightened against the fabric of his trousers as he winced at the thought of what he'd done for what must have been the thousandth time. "After that... I couldn't come back until I was sure I could make a difference. I needed to be stronger, to stop pitying myself."

After a pause, Henk finished.

"Do you think me a traitor, Everleigh? Do you think me weak?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh watched the way Henk sat on the bed, how his weight brought the mattress down more than she did. Somehow, the weight from him couldn’t just be all flesh and blood, bone and muscle, armor and padding. It seemed there was a greater weight on his shoulders that made Henk heavier than he should have been.

His questions proved her assumption. She was quiet as he spoke, gimlet gaze centering on his face as he confessed to her the struggles he had been going through. It was true, their class was divided. Not just on who left and who stayed, but fundamental beliefs of what was right or wrong. As if none of them could figure out that good and bad were just manmade concepts to pass judgement and shame upon.

Of course, Everleigh had her opinion on the matter. But it wasn’t strong enough to talk to those who had “left.” Who was she to judge? She had walked towards Gilram with Zael. If it wasn’t for Liliana and Ralene she wouldn’t be here on this bed beside Henk.

“We all need to be stronger.” Everleigh said after a moment. “But I think we’re all stronger together.” She patted the back of Henk’s hand that seemed intent on twisting the fabric of his trousers into nothing but dust. Henk hadn’t quite minded when she did touch them. Memories of their time at the Festival of Freedom reminded her of the carefree attitude they all had once had that day.

If only she could go back in time to feel so free again.

“The only time I thought you to be a traitor was when you first stepped into the ring with Zael. I wanted to kill you myself. I’m glad you didn’t because you fought alongside him. How could I call you a traitor after that?” Everleigh said honestly. Was Henk a traitor now? She couldn’t decide, and how could she when half of the time she hated the Academy and Vel Anir?

“You’re stronger than you were yesterday. Tomorrow you’ll be stronger than you are today. You won’t be weak forever.” Then a impish grin and a suitable flash of devilish delight in her eyes. “Although I bet I could kick your ass before you even have a chance to blink. When was the last time you had a suitable sparring partner? Kicking some preteen butt doesn’t count.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

He almost found it cute how she managed to tip-toe around his questions, but he didn't blame her for doing so. They hadn't been fair to ask of her so suddenly, and her answers brought the scarred smile back to his lips. "I never intended to fight Zael. I knew what he was planning, could see it in his face." Henk turned the hand that she'd placed hers over, holding it in his larger grasp as he trained his working eye on her carefully.

The look he gave her then, was something unspoken. Words he knew better than to say aloud, but whose meaning was important that she understood. His decision not to raise arms against the blonde warrior he knew her to care so deeply for was not a vow of the past.

"Have some faith in me, Evie..."

Releasing her hand, he instead gave her a light, playful shove. "But listen to you, calling me a runt in the nicest way possible. Were you always so cocky?" To his recollection, it had been some years since the two of them had been paired up for sparring. Even then, that had been before he'd started taking his combat training more seriously. "Or is it you offer to beat the shit out of all the boys who sneak up to your bedroom in the middle of the night? I do hear some folk are into that sort of thing..."

It would certainly explain the pull Ralene seemed to have on men, to an extent.

Leaning back, Henk rolled his shoulders. The tenseness of his muscles that had plagued him all night did ease a bit at the presence of friendly conversation and a soft seat underneath him. Lords, how long had it been since he'd spoken so casually like this? He could scarcely remember, but...

It was nice.

"Jokes aside..." He slid up onto the bed and sat cross-legged once more, turning to face her as he did so. For the first time since returning, he actually allowed himself to look her over, not having to worry about a mission or being attacked in the process. She was the same Everleigh underneath the pain placed onto all of their shoulders, but she had definitely grown. "I doubt you're anywhere near the level you were when I left. You look to be keeping yourself in shape. But I'm no slouch. I think I'd surprise you with what I can do now, Evie."

He furrows his brow. "You're right though, If we fought right now I don't think I'd win. Ever since the forest, my magic has been behaving... strangely.

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

The shove was stronger than she anticipated. She felt herself begin to lean over and she hid her surprise with a laugh. Alright, so Henk had far more muscle than she did, fair enough. But he wasn’t too much taller than her so his reach wasn’t that much better, and if she was quick enough— which she thought herself to be— she could land a kick at his liver or spleen to help even the fight.

Of course, they weren’t going to fight. Even though Everleigh was ready to stand up and peacock about her physique the way Zael used to do. She removed her hand from his, kept her hands on the overarching curve of her thighs. Tilting her head in confusion, Everleigh waited to speak.

It seemed Henk wasn’t keen on sharing just exactly what he meant. No problem. She’d ask. And if he refused to explain further after she asked? Maybe putting him in a chokehold would get him talking.

“What do you mean your magic has been strange? Is it from Lumen?” The way she said Lumen’s name displayed with acute clarity that she wasn’t fond of the blonde. In truth, she saw her nothing more than a liability. And in the forest, even amongst the fighting, Everleigh had noted how the blonde had stayed close to Henk’s side. Had she messed up with her magic again? Had it affected Henk?

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk quickly shook his head at the misunderstanding. Everleigh hadn't seemed too keen on Lumen, but he hadn't been certain until he'd heard the edge she'd placed on her name. "Not at all. In fact, Lumen and I make quite a team. Her temperature magic makes the use of my own easier by several degrees." Henk's magic required gathering heat and light through his skin, which depending on the setting could take time. Lumen circumvented this, giving him a direct stream.

He was quite interested in seeing how her powers developed as she neared her own graduation.

"No, what I'm referring to is something that happened during Graduation. It was... the first time I've ever really lost my temper. When I saw them attack Noel, I mean..." 'Losing his temper' seemed an odd way to put it, but Henk struggled to phrase it differently. He'd always prided himself on being in control of his emotions and keeping calm under pressure. "I snapped, and my magic did things I'd never experienced before. It was powerful, but I had no control over it."

With a sigh, Henk gave into his complaining spine and fell back onto the mattress, his legs uncrossing and hanging down over the edge. Everleigh was the first person he'd gone into detail about it with, though he'd spoken briefly to Edric and Noel about the changes as well. "Ever since, I've had trouble controlling my emotions. Fits of anger, long periods of depression... I'm not sure what's wrong with me, but my magic is going through the same swings. One moment I feel like I'm lacking the punch I should be packing, the next I'm struggling to keep things under control. It's like... there's a new well I haven't tapped into, that's leaking through despite how ready for it I am."

After a moment of silence, his lips crack into a smile, and he shakes his head with a small chuckle. "Listen to me, rambling like you're Fernando Matos." Tilting his head on the bed to look at her with his good eye, he chews on the inside of his cheek. "I have... so many feelings now. That I didn't before. It's frightening, Evie."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh looked over at him as he spoke. She didn't mind that he unloaded some of the weight he carried, realizing that these words came from his heart instead of his head. Strangely enough, she felt that she could relate to his words and woes. The emotions that they had both had to forgo to survive in the Academy somehow breaking out of those cages made strong from dolorous atrocities during graduation— Everleigh had felt it as well.

The fear of losing Zael when she saw for the first time— truly saw it, for at the Academy any afflictions he had from the proctors were well designed and measured— his morality. She suspected Henk must have felt something similar. Everleigh had stopped holding back in that moment: her emotions, her power, and the terrifying force she would become.

And just like Henk, upon saying goodbye to Zael, she too went through the contradictory periods of feeling like the worst, then sometimes feeling like the best or smartest. Sometimes she liked blaming everything on herself and other times she liked to blame others, even wishing it was someone else’s fault completely. A conundrum of conflict and uncool persistence in what she wanted emotionally and logically.

Everleigh followed Henk’s lead and laid supine herself. She swung her legs leisurely, kicking them up a bit. Her hand went to the Orc playing cards in her pocket and she began to fiddle with them in her hands held over her chest.

“It’s okay if you talk about your feelings to me,” Everleigh said in regards to the comment about Proctor Matos. He was still at the Academy, doing what he did best: pissing off all the Dreadlords with his fluffy, frothy ideas. “When we had to take those tests when we reached double digits I scored very high on empathy.” She had to weaponize that innate trait while forcing herself to be neutral and indifferent to everything going on around her. Or so she had thought.

“I’m not judging you.” Everleigh added, thinking that could comfort him better than telling him of a test score. She should have gone with that first. She turned her head to look back at Henk. “I’d be scared, too.” A lie. She was already scared of herself more than anyone else. “Feelings are fatal, that’s what they always told us. A emotional mind is a weak mind.” There were times that Everleigh still thought that to be true.

“I… went berserk a few months ago. I barely had any magic left in me. Even my own poison was hurting me and I blinded myself. I spent days in the infirmary. It all happened in front of initiates and other proctors. It was embarrassing and shameful because I’ve always been so cool and calm and collected and I thought….” She trailed off, collecting her thoughts and feelings and placing words together like beads on a string. “I thought I would make a big statement about working together— like we all did in Graduation. It was supposed to be encouraging but all it did was piss the initiates off.” Everleigh sighed and shrugged half-heartedly. She placed the cards between her and Henk.

“It’s weird, our feelings.” She rolled over onto her side, propping her head up with a bent arm and resting her cheek in her hand. “You think all there is is anger, sadness, and happiness, but there’s really so much more. Maybe once you understand those feelings you can figure out just what sort of power you’ve blocked off.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk didn't speak a word, merely turned his head and listened to the woman now lying in the bed beside him. It was true: Their entire upbringing had been based around the fallacy that the only correct path was a cold heart, a merciless uncaring in everything you did, and having faith in only yourself and the Republic. They had been brainwashed, all of them. Watching Everleigh now, the hidden pain swirling underneath her vibrant, pretty eyes... He felt a jab of pity. Of sympathy.

Not just for her. For all of them.

None of them had asked for this. None of them had wished to be turned against one another and to battle old friends like mangy dogs in a pit. It was a burden that had been forced upon them. Even exile meant turning friend to enemy now. Henk, if nobody else, understood that ache in her heart. He'd felt it too, and not just for Noel; Everleigh had said it herself... Maybe once you understand those feelings you can figure out just what sort of power you’ve blocked off.

Henk did understand his feelings.

As she turned onto her side, so too did he, if for no other reason to face her properly as she finished. His long braid of hair fell down over his neck, perhaps bearing far too much resemblance to a noose around his throat as he watched her with one pale, blue eye, its blind companion searching fruitlessly. "Evie, I wouldn't have come up to this room if I didn't feel comfortable in telling you exactly how I feel."

Well aware of the risks, Henk reached out and gently placed an abnormally warm palm upon her shoulder. "We are a cursed class. One that neither those before or after us can truly understand. The Academy had its methods of indoctrination in stone, and they would not fail in making us what we all were meant to become. But..."

He released a slow breath, "The Revolution changed that. Before we were fully inhuman, they no longer had the means to shape us. We were left as half-forged blades, arrows with chipped heads. The humanity they left inside of us is what haunts us. I'm so sure of it..." Henk trailed off, closing his eyes and shaking his head to collect his thoughts in one place.

That she experienced something similar to him only made him more certain of his own emotions, of his own feelings and thoughts. Everleigh had never been one of his closest friends, but he felt about her as he did all of the others. Perhaps now, in these circumstances, he felt a bit stronger about her and several others in particular, but his mind remained certain.

"I understand my feelings, Evie. That's what scares me most." He trailed his thumb across her shoulder, before letting it fall back to the bed and slink back to his side. "I understand that I love every single one of you. You're all that I've ever had for so long, and you're all the reason I came back. I understand that I'm hurt that we've been divided, and I understand that I'm enraged at the people behind it."

Reaching for his braid and flipping it behind him, he allows a sigh to pass his lips as he concludes.

"And most of all, I've come to realize that I'm terrified of failing you all. That it's always been my biggest fear."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Being touched was still a novelty. Even after holding and being held by Zael, even after her visits to Erland and falling over that sinful edge, there was something about touch that was incredibly intimate to her. Perhaps she had been starved of touch for so long that no matter how much she got of it now would never be enough.

Her shoulder was so close to her face. And Henk had always had that strange way of looking at people: soft and gentle, like he didn’t regard her as a weapon but something harmless, like a bunny or lamb. She couldn’t look into his one eye as a feeling of pleasure, shy and arrogant at the same time, like the blush on her cheeks, nestled itself in her chest.

She was glad when he brought his hand back down to the bed. Everleigh looked at it, memorizing it unintentionally. Her violet eyes lifted up to watch him flip his braid over his shoulder. Despite all the distractions, Everleigh had heard every word that Henk said.

“I think a part of loving someone,” Everleigh said slowly, “is knowing you will grow with them. And there will be times when you fail, or they fail, but love is strong enough to keep you both on your feet and move forward.” She had failed Zael by not going to his side sooner, and if love hadn’t been there, would she have ever risked her life to stand beside him at all?

She wasn’t nearly as altruistic as Henk.

“It’s not fair for you to take on this burden alone. This divide is years deep. You can’t solve it all by yourself.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk couldn't deny the logic behind her words, and he knew that Everleigh likely had far more opportunity to muse about the mysteries of emotion than some of their other comrades. To hear her confirm what he likely knew, were he introspective enough to search his own mind for the answers, was comforting. Perhaps all that he'd truly needed was for somebody he trusted to say it to him.

Because it had been far too long since he'd trusted himself.

"Thank you... Though it's not quite the same when the people you love look at you as a traitor..." Half of the people he would do anything for now branded him an exile unworthy of the second chance he'd been given. "You are right. So long as I do not waver, I can still accomplish what I set out to do. Questioning myself will only make my battle harder. I must be resolute."

Somewhere in his words, he'd stopped talking to her and started affirming himself, it seemed. Even so his eye lingered on hers. Was this what he'd sought when he'd ascended the stairs to meet her tonight? Solace in her company? Comfort from her voice? Henk could have sworn he'd intended to help her, to try and ease her pain. Now the opposite had occurred. It was he who leaned on her.


It took a moment before he noticed the redness on her face.

Quickly, he sat up on the bed, averting his gaze. Gods, he'd been touching her. For a moment, he'd even been looking at her like... No, the last thing she needed was another person to worry about. Loneliness and proximity were a dangerous cocktail, and one he was not so foolish to drink blindly.

"I'm sorry. I was too close, shouldn't have put my hand on you, that was out of line." He muttered over to the lounging woman, before swinging his legs off of the bed and standing to walk towards the window that looked outside at the star-scattered sky. "I just... I think I needed to be with somebody. To not be alone with my thoughts. I saw you were awake and..." He shrugged, "I know I can rely on you."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Perhaps she was only to be kind to him because of her contradictory feelings. On one hand, the safety of Vel Anir had been so important to her for so long. As long as she was useful then she was needed and could feel some sort of belonging. On the other hand, there was someone, an exile now himself, who didn’t see her as a tool and made her belong with something as simple as a hug.

For many of those that stayed within the Republic she suspected that had those they wanted to protect, someone specific. Everleigh had no person behind Vel Anir’s walls any longer. But she could place herself in another’s shoes and consider how she would feel. She could consider how it would feel to have a exile come back into Vel Anir.

Before she could say anything else, Henk was up and off the bed, taking steps away to distance himself from her. Everleigh simply rolled onto her back and stretched out her legs before her.

“I’m not into you if that’s what you’re thinking.” She felt the need to clarify it. Henk was just as much as the Henk that Everleigh remembered: soft and meek and timid. “I like aggressive men.” Way more aggressive she had come to realize but now wasn’t the time to explain it. “It’s just weird. Being touched. Platonically.” She also felt the need to use that word.

“I don’t think it’s bad. But there’s a part of me that gets excited about someone not being afraid to touch me and another that gets pissed off that they don’t think I’m dangerous.” There was a wry smile and she sat up. Everleigh raised her hands above her head, going into another languid stretch.

“You know, I never thought I would ever say this, but we’re the same.” There was a brief chuckle and Everleigh fell back onto the bed, looking up at the ceiling. “We both don’t like being alone with our thoughts. I used to think all I need was me and my thoughts. Now I hate them. Every thought I have now, they’re the same as the last and the next to come. And I can’t get them out of my head.” There was more to it. The fact that food had lost flavor, that she felt like she was losing days with everything feeling like a blur— day and night having lost their meaning so long ago. She was going through the motions back at the Academy.

Even now, there was still a part of her playing pretend, just a different sort. She raised a arm up, her forearm going over her eyes as she closed them.

“Gambling kinda lost it’s shine.” Everleigh said softly, admitting very little and yet everything in those five words. “You really shouldn’t rely on me. I’ve lost my spunk.”

Henk

 

[Henk]

His forehead had come to rest against the cold glass of the window, but whether she intended to or not, Evie broke the tension he felt with her clarification, a small snort of laughter leaving a patch of fog on the window as he spun around to smile at her, raising an eyebrow and tilting his head quizzically. "Please, Evie. I know you're not -into- me. I apologized because for a moment I forgot that." It was an embarrassing admission, but they'd been rather open with one another this far, had they not?

Somehow, saying the quiet part aloud lifted some of the awkward air that had choked him. He briskly walked back to the bed, falling back onto the mattress, this time sitting up against the headboard. "Before graduation, I wouldn't have dared touch you even that much, Not because I've ever been afraid of you, but because I was too busy trying to be a knight in shining armor for everybody around me to form connections, platonic or otherwise," Henk confessed with a shrug. "But things have changed. You aren't the only one who's grown, Evie. If exile taught me anything valuable, it's that I cannot always solve my problems with a gentle touch or kind words."

She still saw him as the soft-spoken Initiate who protested even sparring with the others, who went out of his way to avoid killing even enemies on missions. That wasn't really him anymore, though. That Henk died in the forest. That Henk had been dead for quite some time now.

"I lost my temper quite badly recently. Ended up tackling Edric off of a massive cliff, did you hear about that? Apparently turned myself into a fireball, too. Don't remember it well, I was too pissed off." Henk felt a ghost of a smirk at the memory, at how Edric had gotten sentimental and spun himself around so that Henk wouldn't be injured by the fall. "And I'll be honest, if that Skender kid says one more cross word to me, I've half a mind to snap the brat like a twig. Now..."

The Dreadlord seemed oddly nonplussed at Everleigh's self-deprecation. If he'd heard the words, he wasn't giving them much weight. Reaching between them, he scooped up the cards and held them up. "...If I haven't lost my 'spunk', and I like to think I'm just getting started, then neither have you, Everleigh. I will not listen to you encourage and embolden me, while you dress yourself down in the next breath."

Henk held out the cards.

"Let's gamble. If you're as out of practice as you claim, I should have no trouble handily beating you."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

He was coming on to her? She thought he had thought she was coming onto him, especially since a woman’s way of flirtation was far more subtle. Everleigh had always been a rather weird flirt, such as that time when she touched Zael’s eyebrows back in Arnim which made her cringe at the strange form of touch even over a year later.

She didn’t say anything, sitting up instead and taking the cards from Henk. She felt a little guilty, she had gone through them briefly so of course Henk would think he had a fair chance. Yet her memory wasn’t normal, was far from like everyone else’s. She could remember the cards with acute clarity, even if she had only witnessed them for a half a second.

She didn’t know every card and the small mark that would show with heat, but she knew enough to put the odds in her favor. Everleigh was grinning. She did like winning. She hadn’t taken Henk’s warning seriously.

“I’m down for a game or two.” The smile matched her eyes, mirth and mischief dancing on her features in perfect unity. “What are we playing? Better yet, what do you want to gamble with?” Everleigh brought her legs into a criss-cross position, already shuffling the cards. “Since you’re feeling lucky, should be something big. Go big or go home, right?”

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk wasn't expecting a fair game, but he was expecting Everleigh to underestimate him. He'd be surprised if she didn't; they hadn't really spoken since he'd left. How could she know of any little changes he'd made to himself beyond his appearance?

"Yes, I imagine you prefer to have stakes, don't you?" Henk echoed the words from their previous game, long before Graduation had divided them. "You are the expert on this subject, so I thought maybe I'd let you choose again, but..." Last time, she'd suggested secrets. That had gone badly when she quickly discovered she didn't have any secrets worth giving. At least, none she was comfortable telling Henk. "...You're right, I am feeling rather fortunate."

As she shuffled the deck, Henk closed his working eye and mulled the choice over for a moment. Truthfully, he didn't know much about card games, but he'd learned a few in his travels outside of the Republic. Slowly, a smile spread across his face, and he leaned forward to watch her shuffle.

A game of both chance and reflexes would be ideal. "The game will be Allirian Rat Thief. I assume you're familiar?" He asked, before adding. "As for the wager, let's not leave our game feeling hollow like last time, yes? Something tangible, high stakes." But also vague enough that the bet could be placed... creatively.

"The winner of each round may take one possession from the other, of any kind. Refusal is allowed, but means forfeit of the entire game."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

Everleigh snorted. The shuffling of the cards picked up speed, perhaps in answer to Henk’s thoughts on reflexes. As he spoke, she began the set up for the game— Allirian Rat Thief? Child’s play. Henk was going to lose, and the idea made the poison eater visibly brighten.

She suspected he wouldn’t make it easy for her but there wasn’t any fun in winning if there was no challenge to overcome. A dark brow rose at the suggestion made by Henk. Sure, last year, swapping secrets wasn’t her finest moment. In truth, she didn’t expect to lose at all, but then again she had played fair and it was a game that focused on luck.

She supposed telling Henk her favorite color (green) or her favorite drink (milk) weren’t good secrets. But what was she supposed to tell him? Something important and expect him to keep it and not use it against her? Somehow, she trusted Henk more in this possession-taking than she did with the secret-giving.

“Very well.” The devilish grin wasn’t leaving any time soon. “Let’s begin.” The set up was complete. And because it was Henk, and everyone knew the key to winning a gamble was having a cool head, Everleigh added a coy, disarming: “You’d have an easier time getting me naked with strip poker but….” She trailed off, wanting a long and heavy pause between them. “All I have to do to win is take something you can’t live without. Like that fancy braid of yours.” The game began, cards being set down between them.

[roll: 19 ):]

 

[Henk]

After Everleigh had shuffled, Henk cut the deck and divided it by half, placing one stack in front of both of them before placing his hand gently on the back of the first card. His brows raised a bit at her teasing insinuation, and while she was obviously teasing he'd long outgrown letting himself be walked over by mere flirtation.

"Well, the night's young." He mused, the beginnings of a smirk on the corner of his lips as he briefly heated the tips of his fingers against his first card. "Maybe we can try that next, since you seem so privy to the idea. I can't say I'm not curious." Technically, it wasn't really a lie. He'd no intention of coercing her into a game of depravity over some light teasing though. It would be reward enough to see her knocked down a peg once she'd lost to him.

And lose she did, their first round of play had ended with him handily defeating her. Henk took a moment to lean back and gloat, the ghost of a smirk now a smug grin as he counted his ending total in front of her card by card. The heat marks on the cards did offer him some small advantage, but they didn't guarantee victory, as the game was primarily one of chance. "Look at that." He hummed. "Maybe timid, soft Henk is better than you gave him credit for Evie..."

An unrestrained snicker passed his lips as he shifted forward, letting his eyes rake over her person for a moment as he tried to pick out a reward. Nothing too nefarious, not unless she upped the ante on his behalf... After a minute, he nods.

"A ring, or a piercing. Call it a momento, in return for the cards."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“Beginner’s luck. Or I’m just going on easy on timid, soft Henk.” Everleigh said back, although everything about her overall posture was leisurely. So she had less cards, no matter. Henk won this battle but he hadn’t won the war. And Everleigh was in it for the long haul. There was more than one way to win this game. She had already disclosed a tidbit of her mindset already to Henk.

Everleigh got off the bed after hearing Henk’s proposal. Alright, maybe he wasn’t the timid, soft Henk that she pictured him as.

“I don’t wear rings,” Everleigh said with a yawn, unbuckling her belt. She pulled her shirt and under shirt up from the tight hold of her pants. “I have so many piercings. I wonder which one I should part with.” There were the ones on her ears, easy and accessible. But that wouldn’t have been fun to give. There were the piercings that were a hindrance to take out, like ones around her middle fingers or in the small dimples of her lower back. Those would be more of a hassle and Everleigh didn’t want to look like she was struggling.

She hands slipped under her clothing and she looked over her shoulder at Henk with that entirely Everleigh smug grin belonging to devils.

“I can part with this one as I have another right above it.” Her fingers didn’t go any higher, staying around her midsection. Sooner rather than later, she pulled the curved bar with two plain, metal studs at either end. She held out the belly button piercing to Henk.

“If you ask nicely maybe I’ll pierce yours too and we can be matching.” She teased, coming back onto the bed and crossing her legs under her. “Although I don’t know how it’d look on a outie.” Everleigh said as if she were quite serious in contemplating the fact.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk was making it a point that he was every bit as capable of being a smug and competitive player as she was. He wouldn't have offered to play this sort of game with her if he thought he had no chance, and he'd be lying if he said the appeal of seeing her reaction to losing wasn't at least somewhat in the forefront of his mind. How couldn't it be? Calling him soft... those were fighting words.

Asking for a piercing had been intended to be a slow, easy start to a potentially much more dangerous game. So when she responded to his demand by sliding off of the bet and loosening her belt to pull her clothes free, admittedly Henk received a bit more of a show than he'd bargained for. Everleigh turned and fished under her top for the bar on her navel, making sure not to break eye contact with him, the smug she-devil.

He was rather glad she wasn't facing him completely, lest it be too obvious how off-guard the teasing had caught him. Reaching out and taking his winnings, he smiled nonetheless and fired back, "Another one? Well, perhaps I'll end up taking that one too then." He examined the bar, before pocketing it. Truthfully he had little use for it, but it was fun to win something.

Everleigh slid back onto the bed and 'threatened' to pierce him in a way that matched her. The idea caused him to raise a brow as he gathered the cards and shuffled them into two stacks of twenty-five once more. "Mmmm? Well, if the rumors I've heard are true, you'd be piercing more than my navel if I wanted to match you. Although, If you wanted my clothes off, there are far more direct ways to ask." He placed her half in front of her, and a new round began.

A round in which he again won handily, this time nearly a perfect game on his part.

"Well, Evie. It looks as though you may be slipping after all... There is time to chicken out, if you're so inclined." Henk didn't even look at her as he finished counting his cards and gathered them back together, the smile on his face nearly reaching his ears. "If not, I'd like a closer look at that belt. Seems strong... could be useful."

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

“I’ve seen you naked before.” Well, in the general sense that they all had seen one another naked at some point in time when it came to the communal bathing the Academy once participated in. At that time had she purposely been looking, no. But did she remember everything she ever saw? Yes.

So she could picture Henk’s body (only ever in pieces, such as the back of his hand, the shape of his calf, or the flex of his back as cold water was poured over him) throughout the years. “I don’t need to reconfirm what you look like.” They were going quickly with the cards. Her eyes were trained at the center. “I have a very good memory.”

And yet despite this good memory, Evie ended up losing this round as well. Her face remained unflappable. Inwardly, she cursed up a storm before glancing at Henk. Her belt? She hadn’t buckled it back and so she grabbed it from one side and easily pulled it out of her belt loops. She handed it over to Henk.

The black leather was worn, the seams and edges well frayed. It was her only belt. But Everleigh wouldn’t tell Henk that.

“Should fit you nicely if you keep it around your skinny hips.” She teased as they began to play again. This time, she had to win. Cards placed down, back and forth, back and forth— Kress, her stack was smaller than Henk’s and it made her nervous. Still, she remained calm, or at least looking like she was. Finally, she had a chance to pounce, securing a win. She collected the cards to give herself time to think.

She could ask for a possession back. But one piercing and her belt (even if it was her only belt) didn’t feel terribly important.

“Give me a card from your hand.” She said, pointing at Henk’s deck. Unexciting and unassuming, she knew, but sometimes it was best to take things up a notch a little bit later.

Henk

 

[Henk]

As badly as she was performing, Henk would have expected more retaliation when she finally stole a round from him. If he was being honest, he was actually quite curious to see what she intended to take from him. So when she decided that all she wanted was a one-card handicap in the next round, he found himself raising an eyebrow in a show of befuddlement.

"Didn't take you for the timid better, but as you wish."

Henk quietly slid his top card to Everleigh before the start of the next round. Her mention of seeing him naked roused only a shrug of his shoulders. They'd been younger, far more brainwashed to such things than they were now. At the time it hadn't seemed a big deal, but they'd both changed. Not that Henk had been quite serious anyway. He rolled up the belt and set it aside, nothing the use it seemed to have endured.

Perhaps not as useful as he'd thought.

"I'm beginning to believe I'm the only one who went out of his way to not look at everybody else in those baths." He chuckled, splitting the cards minus Everleigh's extra card before beginning the next round of play. This one was much closer than those previous, and it could have gone either way. In the end, though, Henk was victorious again, leading to more of that probing taunting that he was getting so much practice in. "Mmm, you know you can forfeit any time. Sooner or later you're going to run out of stuff and I'll have to get creative."

There wasn't a set limit of rounds, only until one of the players forfeited.

"Barring that, I suppose I'll have to take... Oh, how about a knife?"

Everleigh Ebersol

 

[Everleigh Ebersol]

She took the lonesome card. It was a timid bet. She was quiet. She wanted to win again, to do another small and unassuming bet like before. Yet it seemed she wasn’t going to fare well once more as Henk won this round as well. It mattered very little though when he asked for something like a knife from her. To her it was akin to her asking for one extra card.

Everleigh leaned back, looking over Henk. What sort of knife would suit him? A flat blade wouldn’t, Henk didn’t seem the sort to want to slice things open easily. Flat blades weren’t usually carried among dreadlords anyways but because of the nature of her magic Everleigh always carried plenty to slice open her skin as neatly as possible.

She supposed a dagger would do, and so she leaned over, a hand reaching under the bed. She had hidden a dagger in the bed frame, just in case. After a moment or two of difficulty, Everleigh pulled the dagger and its sheath out and then handed it to Henk.

“Now that’s something useful for you. Good choice.” She said lightly as she prepared for the next round. It was a close game, but it was Everleigh who was the victor. When she looked from the face card, her eyes centered immediately onto Henk. Her expression was completely different, smug superiority clearly glimmering in her eyes.

“This was never a game of how many rounds won but a game to see our resilience.” She was grinning, her eyes dropping down for a moment. What to take? A single shoe could be funny— and she wouldn’t give it back to him, even when they were off to travel— and a bit of padding to keep Henk from taking something valuable or needed. “And I suppose also our level of shame. Unlike you, I’m shameless.” The smirk didn’t fade as she looked back into his only good eye.

“Your shirt.” Everleigh held out a hand. There was a thrill that began to warm her blood now.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk took a moment to examine the dagger she produced for him, admiring the craftsmanship. It wasn't anything too extravagant, but he'd taken a liking to short blades in the last few months and had even taken up blacksmithing. The katars he now used in battle were of his own making, in fact. Nodding contentedly, he tucked the dagger into its sheath and set it aside. This game was far from over.

Another round came and went, this one another close contest. Humorously, Everleigh one by only one card this time. Perhaps she really had known what she was doing when she'd taken that handicap. Henk wouldn't have put it past the notorious gambler to have a trick or two up her sleeve, regardless of whether or not she felt she'd deteriorated. In a way, it almost made him happy to see her get another win. She felt much more like herself with a smirk on her lips.

Unlike you, I’m shameless.

Henk raised a brow at her insinuation, and then the other when she held out her hand and demanded his shirt. So, she was finally done playing around then? He'd been avoiding anything of the sort, perhaps out of 'shame', or perhaps out of respect for her. They had joked about stripping, but...

Looking down at the sleeveless tunic he wore, he felt Everleigh's eyes lingering on him far more acutely than before. There was something exciting about it, wasn't there? Something foreign.

He wasn't about to back down.

"Fine, alright."

With a shrug, Henk gripped at the fabric of his tunic and slowly pulled it up and over his head, albeit with some difficulty-- It was an old garment, and he probably needed a size-up after the muscle mass he'd gained. Just as he always did with his clothing, he folded the shirt neatly in his hands before placing it on Evie's waiting palm.

His upper body seemed to follow the tradition set by his face, being riddled with marks and scars. The most prominent was the long, straight scar that ran between his pectorals and trailed across his muscular abdomen, breaking up into small root-like veins across his skin. A tattoo of something resembling a large moth was painted onto his left side, something he'd had done very recently, judging from the slight redness.

"You think me so modest, let's hope you keep this winning streak going." He spoke, with no small opposition in his tone. "You may learn something, otherwise."

Everleigh Ebersol