Private Tales Reckoning

[Emilie]

Em grimaced as he forced the severed hand to hold onto the blade, turning away to close her eyes and squeeze her fists tightly at her sides. She let out a sharp huff at the first bite of the knife, her fists trembling as he started to carve into her flesh.

She heard her father mutter that this was 'insane' as he turned away, unable to watch. She didn't want to scream, more for his sake than hers, but tears forced their way down her cheeks and she frowned deeply, a few whimpers working their way free of her throat.

 

[Mako]

The process took time, more time than he would have liked.

Mako had a steady hand, a careful one, but drawing a symbol like this in someones flesh was difficult in the best of circumstances. Right now? Right now it was an utter nightmare. He could practically feel Emilie's father stare daggers into him.

Not that he much cared, but he did have to make sure the man wouldn't randomly jump forward and stab him in the throat.

After nearly fifteen minutes he switched the hands holding the knife, and fifteen minutes after that Mako took the blade up himself. It was quicker with his own fingers, and as he completed the Symbol Mako looked at Emilie.

A frown touched his face, and then suddenly he grabbed her.

The blade twisted in her shoulder, the symbol finished.

An immediate, rushing sensation would fall over the girl. It was a press, a compulsion. Mako had no idea what form it would take. Pain, itchiness, it could be anything at all. But she would feel it, the powerful press of the mark as it drove her to kill her own father.

 

[Emilie]

She felt drowsy with pain, her body willing her to shut down and block it out and just fall into darkness. Every time her head lulled forward the pain jolted her upright and she let out another growl or whine. She didn't entirely trust Mako not to kill her father either, and if she passed out there would be nothing she could do about it.

She urged him to hurry it up, the length of time she'd been enduring such pain was wearing on her and she'd thrown up twice in the process. Her eyes had been closing when Mako grabbed her and she let out her first cry of pain as she felt the blade twist and the compulsion take hold of her. Her shoulder was cut and bleeding, it was already agony, but the pain that took hold of her now was far worse.

Now she screamed, clutching onto him as her shoulder burned. It took her a moment to realise what exactly she was feeling driven to do and she looked over her shoulder at her father, sitting at his workbench with his head in his hands, her eyes wide as she fought with her own body. The more she fought, the more pain she was in, and Em turned to Mako to grip him.

"Get him away from me. Please. Don't let him die." she pleaded, reaching for Mako's hand that held the blade and pressing it against his chest. She let out another sharp scream in agony, and her father's hands slammed over his ears. She knew that if she ended his life the pain would cease and there was a small part of her, a quiet voice in her mind willing her to do it.

"Get him away!"

 

[Mako]

Mako held onto her as tightly as he could, mostly because he knew that if he let her wiggle an inch she would probably wrench herself free and jump on the man.

This was something he should have mentioned, predicted, but he'd needed to conserve his own strength and quicken it all. He only had so much willpower, and in truth...he'd simply not cared about the old man as much as he had Emilie.

Half of him had been unsure if he could even last long enough to carve the symbol, now that he had...he knew that he stood on a bare edge.

As Emilie fought against him, pleaded with him, the mute growled. It was the first sound that left his throat, the only one that could. Fingers drew back slightly, and then without a warning he pulled back and full on punched Emilie in the face.

The strike was powerful, sudden, and hopefully enough to send Emilie unconscious onto the floor.

She couldn't hurt her father if she was out.

 

[Emilie]

Emilie's body sprawled onto the floor, an angry welt on her cheekbone before the rising bruise. She'd seen a flash of a fist and felt it collide, but everything was in darkness and her she lay on her back entirely out as blood trickled from the stinging wounds on her shoulder.

Her father stood from his bench at the sound of the clatter and turned, his face contorting into a rictus of rage as he looked between her and Mako and he instantly charged forward to grab the man.

"What've you done?! HOW DARE YOU, YOU LITTLE BASTARD!" the old man roared in grief, his wrinkled face still wet with tears.

 

[Mako]

Dear fucking Kress why am I surrounded my mor- The thought was cut off in his head as the old man practically tackled him.

The blade in his hand went clattering onto the ground, and a muted 'oof' passed through his lips as he went slamming against the far wall.

Briefly he wondered why in the fuck they couldn't understand what he was doing. What all of this meant. Did they not listen to each other? Did they not read what he had wrote? Was the man illiterate or simply a fucking idiot?

He was trying to help.

A growl escaped his throat, his fingers suddenly coming up. A quick jab was shot into the old man's ribs, powerful muscles built by years on the sea sent a surging punch forward. Then quickly after his forehead slammed into Emilie's fathers nose.

Anger welling up inside of him now.

 

[Emilie]

Her father wasn't a particularly strong man, not any more. He understood enough to sit and endure the sound of his daughter's whimpering as Mako carved into her shoulder, but striking her had to have had alternatives.

He let out an oof as Mako's fist pounded into his ribs and his legs buckled underneath him as his nose burst open and he crumbled like wet sand into a sobbing heap.

The man sat for a moment, his head bowed in resignation as he spit blood, his hands shaking as he looked between his two children, one unconscious and bleeding, the other dead. In the space of an hour his life had collapsed around him.

"Just kill me.." he grunted, his head shaking. "Just kill me and make sure she's safe.."

 

[Mako]

People would never be able to understand just how frustrating it was not to just say what you wanted to.

Mako found himself internally screaming as the old man shook his head and begged for death. His eyes closed, and he pinched the bridge of his nose as he shook his head. A grimace lashed over his features as pain racked over his shoulders.

Teeth dug into his tongue, abating the mark again as he crouched down and picked up his knife off of the floor.

The palms came second, and then slowly he stepped up to the old man. Kress are you dense.

He thought to himself as he pointed to the twins, their marks specifically, and then to him. He motioned the knife, grimacing slightly in pain.

Just let me do this already. Mako complained internally. Before I let the knife slip too deep.

 

[Emilie]

The old man barely flinched as he allowed Mako to carve the markings into his arm. He sobbed silently as he stared, benumbed by the sight of his dead son and his unconscious daughter, bearing the reckoners' mark on her bleeding shoulder.

Emilie's head was pounding as she slowly roused, disorientated and confused as she grimaced at the pain and slowly sat herself up. Sadly, it hadn't all been a nightmare, and after meeting her father's broken stare for a brief moment, she let her head fall into her hand and huffed deeply.

"Did you really have to punch me in the face?..." she muttered groggily. "As if my day wasn't bad enough already.." she snorted incredulously, shooting Mako a brief glare.

 

[Mako]

As Emilie roused Mako finished the mark upon her father.

It was an almost instant relief. He'd known it would work as soon as the mark had been carved onto Emilie's flesh, but a part of him had still felt doubt. Yet as the pain left his mark he couldn't help but feel utter relief. There was no agony, no itchiness, nothing.

Falling back onto his behind Mako glanced towards Emilie, shrugging his shoulders. I didn't have a lot of time.

He mouthed quickly to her.

Then he gestured over towards Emilie's father, the mark that he had carved into his skin as well. They were Reckoners now, just like he was, just like Radic was.

No one would come after them, at least not from within the gang. Though if the others ever learned of the circumstances of how they'd joined...Mako frowned, having no fucking clue what would happen then.

 

[Emilie]

Her father looked so.. numb. Tears welled in her eyes just looking at him sitting slumped and silent, staring at the floor. Em pulled herself to her feet and went to him, crouching and laying a hand on his shoulder with a slight squeeze. He looked up at her, his eyes studying her face and lingering on the bruise before falling on the carved flesh on her shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Em.." his head shook slowly as he looked hopelessly at her. The old man had did what he'd did to protect her, and he'd tried to protect both her and her brother by bringing them here. "I failed y--"

Em hushed him with a hand on his cheek. "No, you've never done anything but protect us. It wasn't your fault." It was hers, she'd convinced herself. Had she been in the tavern where she was supposed to be, she'd have seen the two brutes who'd come looking, she'd have had time to get her father and brother out. Her jaw tightened as she thought of what she'd been doing instead and shame tightened in her chest.

"Come on." she whispered for fear of her voice cracking at what she was about to say aloud. "We need to bury Simon." her heart broke at the reality they now faced without him. She stood, swaying slightly and reached to take her father's hands, and when he stood her arms wrapped around him.

"We have to leave."

 

[Mako]

So that's what that's like. Mako thought to himself as he watched Emilie and her father from his slumped position on the floor.

The young man had never really known what it was to be family.

His own mother and father had been shit excuses for human beings much less parents, and Radic...Radic had been a smugglers, murderer, and pirate. The man had shown Mako some aspect of family, but certainly nothing like this.

Same went for the crew.

It was an odd feeling that flickered through Mako. Despair, a flash of jealousy.

His lips thinned as he watched them for a moment, and then slowly he turned his head and simply looked down at the ground. Fingers tightened into a fist, and then he heard Emilie speak about leaving. His hand unfurled, and then he knocked on the ground to catch their attention.

Mako slowly shook his head, motioning at the ground, then miming them running. Just a second later he shook his head, signalling that there was no need to run anymore.

 

[Emilie]

She was helping her father to his feet with a tight grip as Mako demanded her attention and she turned, her features stoic despite the tears that continued to race down her cheeks.

Emilie all but snarled at him.

"You think I want you knowing where to find me?" she laughed incredulously under her breath and shook her head. "Get out, and leave us alone.." her jaw tightened, and she wrapped her arm around her father's back to lead him back to his chair.

She whipped a dust sheet from an ornate table her brother and father had been working on together, catching the hurt on her father's face as he looked at it. Em swallowed the pain and cast the sheet over her brother's body, his pooled blood instantly soaking into the white fabric.

 

[Mako]

Why does that hurt? Mako thought to himself with a frown, looking up at Emilie for a few moments. His fingers tightened slightly, glancing down at his palm where the knife still lay enclosed.

A breath filled his lungs.

All of his life he had faced rejection. All of his life he had been pushed and shoved away. His parents, the other kids in the village, anyone and everyone who had ever met him. They had wanted nothing to do with him. Perhaps...perhaps this time he had expected different.

Mako knew he was not the best, knew that he...he wasn't the man he could have bee, but he'd tried. He'd truly tried this time. Fingers unfurled, the knife slipping from his hand as Emilie turned away and dismissed him like so many others.

Slowly the mute stood up from the ground, leaving the blade where he had dropped it. His golden eyes glanced towards Emilie for a moment, and then in silence he began to walk away.

Perhaps he couldn't change after all.

 

[Emilie]

She was too numb to feel sadness in that moment, but in the weeks to come, whenever she sat alone and her father slept, she'd see the look on Mako's face burned into her mind as he turned and left. Her mind was in turmoil as she tried to deal with her losses. Her brother was gone, and a piece of her father had died with him. The man had never aged so much as he had in these last few weeks. He barely spoke and Emilie had to coax him to eat and drink something other than ale and rum.

Emilie was asleep when she felt it. Her shoulder burned so hot that she screamed as she woke, tears instantly streaming from her eyes at the pain of it as it seemed to spread like wildfire throughout her body. Her father's bed was empty, and she called for him as she threw herself out of bed and rushed out into the street, following the sound of commotion.

Several men rushed from the tavern and ran off into the darkness, and in her night clothes and bare feet, Emilie ran as fast as she could until she burst into the tavern to see the place in ruin. Tables and chairs had been thrown and splintered, men sat bruised and bloodied from the brawl, and Em frantically scanned the place for her father.

"Someone fetch Mitch!" the tavern wench's voice screeched as she and another knelt beside someone. Mitch, she knew, was the surgeon who lived at the end of the street. Em's heart sank as she recognised her father's threadbare boots and she grimaced as her shoulder burned again, the pain so dominant that she could ignore the broken glass she walked over as she stumbled toward the man on the floor.

"Father?" she said, but the word caught in her throat as she saw the dark, glistening blood that pooled around his lifeless body. She collapsed to her knees, and screamed.

 

[Mako]

Weeks passed.

Mako returned to the Crow, spent some time with the crew, filled them in on the information they had sent him to find. But he never mentioned Emilie. Never mentioned what happened in the village. No one dug into it.

Radic didn't ask, didn't probe him for answers, didn't even bother mentioning his own mark acting up. There was no point really, and in all truth the Captain didn't much care. It was not the first time a Reckoner had died, and it would not be the last.

So life returned to normal.

Whatever that was for the collection of cutthroats and murderers.

When Emilie's father died, when his mark began to itch once more. Mako found himself in a tavern much like the one he'd met Emilie. He was staring into a cup of ale, voices trailing all around him when he felt the urging of his mark.

His lips thinned, fingers tightening around the cup.

All the while having no idea what Emilie was going through.

 

[Emilie]

It took her hours to stop shaking. Even after Mitch had sedated her and stitched her wounds she shook until her body gave in to the exhaustion. Whilst her body rested, her mind refused. It played over the memory of her father's pale and weary face, and even in sleep she could feel the burning in her shoulder and the urge to find the man who'd landed the killing blow.

Days, she'd been out for days and when she awoke she cried for hours more until she could move again. Her father had already been buried, and the sense of how alone she truly was slammed into her like a stampede, dragging her through the pain all over again.

She had no-one left. Nothing other than this fucking thing on her arm and the need to kill someone she'd never met. Em wasn't sure how long she'd knelt by the unmarked mound of dirt before the pain in her shoulder became unbearable again and she got up, and started walking.

 

[Mako]

He didn't know how long he stared into that mug, how long he simply sat there.

Mako had been sent to the shore to find a dealer to buy some antiquities Radic and the Crew had stolen, but the mark took precedents over that. Always did.

The mute stared into the mug until he couldn't handle it anymore. Until that feeling in the middle of his shoulders simply overwhelmed him. A breath was sucked in through his teeth, and he pushed himself up off his feet. He swayed slightly, the constant drinks having him slightly tipsy.

Then he started walking.

It wasn't aimless. The Mark always had a direction, but this time around he was a lot less cheerful about what he might find.

A few days passed as he moved along the coast. He passed through a village or two, though neither of them of substantial size. It was a week before the Mark changed, before he could feel a shift. It was when he reached the town of San Marin that he felt it.

That compulsion narrowing.

Whoever had done it was here. A town known for it's butchery, a town with a wall of red and a fortress that had defied a thousand Kingdoms. That was what they said anyway.

 

[Emilie]

The pain burned so hot at times that she felt delirious, her grief so crippling that she'd have curled up by the side of the road and just lay there had the mark not urged her on. She walked without eating and only slept when her body couldn't walk any more, and on the fourth day of her journey she happened upon a farmer and his son who were travelling from town to town selling chickens and grain.

She didn't speak to them, to the extent that they thought her mute. She thought of Mako. Emilie didn't feel like explaining anything to the old man nor his curious son, and for a few days she'd pretend she was with her father and brother as she settled in the back of their wagon, surrounded by chickens. They made sure she ate, and she slept whenever the pain would allow her to.

How had Mako dealt with this? She understood now, what had driven him to her father, what had driven the two men she'd murdered to try to murder him, and she knew the only way to stop the torture was to kill the man who'd succeeded.

She felt the shift as they approached the town, and it dawned on her that Mako might be on his way here too. But, the wagon wasn't stopping, and Emilie banged a fist on the side until they halted and she hopped out onto the road to point toward the flickering lights.

"Oh, no lass. We, don't do business there.. An' you best be avoidin' it too, ent no place for a lass like yersel', especially not one on her own if yeh catch my meanin'.. Come on, next town is two days from here.." the old man beckoned. Emilie frowned in remorse and shook her head, offering a small smile in thanks as she turned on her heels and started down the road.

"Lass, where are yeh-- Lass?!"

Emilie sighed, but she didn't look back. He was here, somewhere.

 

[Mako]

Mako didn't go to the gate.

They might have let him in, they might even have let him do so without a charge. Some folk felt bad for the weight he carried, the lack of a tongue as most would call it. Yet he knew it wasn't the best way in, not here. There was a quicker way to his solution.

At least there would have been.

He moved not towards the front of the city, not towards the officials. Instead he headed to a caravan. One of those who sat outside the town to sale their ways. He approached them with a friendly face, a smile, and a small written note.

It was simple. Friendly. It should have won them over. It should have made them see him as someone who needed help.

Yet San Marin was not Alliria, fuck, it wasn't even Teth.

This place was a monster of it's own making. So when Mako approached the caravan, when he waved, he never expected the club to the back of his head. He never expected the abyss that took him. He never expected to awake in a pit of sand and blood.

Never thought he'd wind up listening to the shouts of a crowd as they screamed for him to beat a man to death.

 

[Emilie]

Emilie was no stranger to the dangers that lurked in places like this. It'd been the whole reason she and her family had been dragged into this mess in the first place. The reason that her father had killed a man, the reason why he and her brother were now in the ground and she was now, a reckoner.

She wasn't afraid. There wasn't anything that could frighten her now that she had nothing left to lose. They couldn't take anything else from her, and no suffering could be worse than that which she was already suffering.

Armed with only a long dagger which she'd slipped from the belt of a drunken mercenary some weeks back, (and which she had absolutely no idea on how to use) Emilie stuck to the shadows, her black hood drawn up as she found herself slipping in through the gate behind a wagon of wine with her head down.

She gripped at her shoulder with a grimace as she made off down a shadowy street, her boots splashing up puddles in the the dimpled road, and she walked until she could hear rowdiness then followed the sound. The men gathered were all far too preoccupied with whatever was going on in the pit as she slunk inside, her gaze still downcast.

She had no idea what the man that she was looking for even looked like, nor if he would be here at all, but she figured it would be a good place to start. Her slender form was barrelled this way and that as she weaved through the crowd, already soaked with ale. Her nose wrinkled, and her fingers curled around the dagger at her hip.

"Watch where you're goin' kid!" an ogre-like man shoved hard at her and she winced as she slammed into the wooden rail. Bodies closed in around her, almost crushing her against it and she growled, about to draw her blade and stab at a few thighs when she noticed the man that they were jeering at.

Her gaze widened under her hood, her lips parting as she silently mouthed a 'what the fuck' to herself. Perhaps she would stay and watch after all.

 

[Mako]

Mako was covered in cuts, bruises, and blood that was not his own. A weariness clung to his eyes, his hair was disheveled, and his golden eyes were run through with red.

He had no idea how long he'd been in the pit, how many hours had passed since he'd woken up. All he knew was that four men had come and gone, for other fighters whom he had beaten into an inch of their lives. There had been flashes of rest, some water dumped on his face, but it never stopped.

Not really.

There were cheers, boos, jeers. People shouting.

It was a hell that he had never thought he would find himself in, a form of torture that he had heard whispers of but never imagined for himself. Mako's chest rose and fell, one eye half squinted shut as the fifth challenger slowly stepped forward.

He was a man thrice his size, muscles bulging as though he'd been lifting mill stones for fun. Mako's lips thinned as the ogre of a man stepped towards him. His fingers curled into tight fists, body swaying ever so slightly.

"I'm gonna break every bone in your body, boy."​

The man's words were a rumble, like a mountain coming apart.

Then he charged.

His steps dug into the sand, seeming to shake the earth as he rushed towards the young rogue. His hands outstretched, and with enough force to shatter brick he swung. Mako ducked down, two quick jabs thrown out towards the hulks stomach before he swept back in the stand.

The man shifted, letting out an oof before he swiped at Mako and struck him directly in the side. There was a crunch, and the young man was practically thrown to the floor.

 

[Emilie]

His beautiful face.

Emilie was wrong. She couldn't watch this. As much as she hated what he'd done to her, her stomach lurched nauseously and she grimaced as he was thrown. She tried to look away, she tried to turn and leave but the crowd around her were large and loud and she couldn't move.

She felt panic rise in her chest as she watched, her nails digging into the splintery wood. If he died, she didn't much fancy her chances against the man at least twice her size..

Her gaze shifted toward an empty tankard that someone had sat down on the rail, and without thinking she lifted it and launched it as hard as she could at Mako's opponent, stopping the brute in his tracks as he was about to pick Mako off of the ground. The vessel thunked against the back of his head, and as the man turned himself about, Emilie was pointing at the orc next to her.

Commence brawl.

 

[Mako]

Mako didn't notice the chaos that had now broken out all around the ring, he was too consumed with trying not to die.

The hulking Giant of a man who had been after him turned away for one second, and it was enough time for him to gather himself. Mako quickly rolled to the side, blood forcing one eye shut as he caught sight of the man charging away from him and into the crowd.

For a moment he felt a surge of relief, though that quickly fell to panic as he realized the entire arena was suddenly breaking out into a massive fight.

The ogre of a man smashed into the orc besides Emilie, and within seconds the whole place devolved into utter chaos. Mako blinked, alone in the ring, and somehow in the safest spot in the whole tavern. His good eye stared, and then he noticed a bit of red beneath the hood.

Instantly he felt his stomach drop. Fuck.

He thought to himself as he realized who had taken the attention from him.

Fuck fuck fuck. Mako cursed as he charged forward towards Emilie. Towards the middle of a massive bar brawl that she was now in the center of.

 

[Emilie]

She really hadn't thought this one through. Chaos erupted around her and for a moment she was crushed within it before she was pushed to the ground, trying her best to avoid being trampled on. Her blade stabbed and sliced at legs that got too close to her, though the plan backfired and she received a hard kick to the ribs that knocked the air from her lungs.

She used brawling men, belts, jackets, whatever she could grasp hold of to try and pull her back to her feet for air in panic. Then there were hands on her, and she spun toward the one who'd grabbed her in terror, her blade rising into the air and about to plunge at him before she realised who it was.

Every emotion she felt seemed to register on her face at once, but she couldn't afford to feel them, not right now. "Let's go!" she barked at him and coughed, clinging to him in fear of falling again.