Private Tales To Bleed Enough

[Livia Quinnick]

The time spent working as a taskforce had seen little improvement in Livia's ability for combat, but her dedication in seeing things through led her to get back on her feet. Her body ached by the time she returned to the Academy, and only once did she debate on pretending to be sick so that she did not have to go to another taskforce training session.

So it was a battered and bruised Livia that was present this day.

Other Dreadlords insisted she work on her strength, to be as good and well seasoned like the best of them. They had made jokes about her thinness, knowing her strength came from dancing, but that was no good on the battlefield should she see it.

"Initiate Quinnick."

Livia groaned and lifted her head, frowning up at Marks. The Dreadlord had the ability to manipulate air, amd had taken a liking to pairing woth the young Initiate to test her strength.

"Quit the whining, girl. You are no good to use if you cannot defend yourself without magic."

"I was not selected for combat, Marks."

"Which means you can learn. Come on. I will let you use your magic to land some blows."

"I promised someone I would train with them today. That guy." Livia nodded towards Henk. They had rarely interacted during these sessions, but only because Livia had stuck to the Iniaties she knew mostly.

"The traitor?" He scoffed.

So, she had not promised anything. That did not stop her from darting around the Dreadlord and approached Henk.

"Fancy some training? Otherwise, Marks over there is going to make me hit the floor one more time and I am going to zap him with my magic." Her smile was strained, her cadence urgent. Her own magic could do with some flexing, to test the very lengths of it, but she should not try that without proper instruction.


Henk

 

[Henk]

To say Henk's time under Zana's tutelage had been productive would be an understatement. Under the watchful eye of the Archon, and a push towards limits he'd not been willing to take himself to, the young Dreadlord had done more than improve upon his abilities; he had evolved them entirely.

Once, he'd questioned his ability to ever stand up against the might of an Archon Rogue's power, even at his strongest. Today? He felt the energy surging within him, seeping through every poor as he sat cross-legged in a sunny corner of the training field...

Now, he knew that he was strong enough. With this power, he could conquer the most dangerous of foes. Every promise he'd made, every vow he'd taken, they could be fulfilled. It lay within his hands and weighed upon his shoulders to do so.

Through the quiet and calm of his meditation, gentle footsteps fall against the grass. Henk did not need to slide open his eye to know it was Livia, the lightest of the Taskforce, but he did nonetheless, offering a soft smile and nod to her as she stepped forward.

Quinnick was not like the rest of the Taskforce. She struggled to accept her appointment here, and wrestled with her own self-worth daily. Henk did not need to be told this, only to look in her eyes. Once upon a time, those eyes had been his own.

"You're stronger than Marks, you know." He replied, simply, shutting his good eye once more and looking forward. "He's not overpowering you in the slightest. He's merely taking advantage of a lack of confidence. You won't hit him if you don't believe you can."

With a deep breath, Henk uncrosses his legs and stands, dusting himself off. The armor covering his arms and back opens, scale-like layers separating to allow his flesh to show.

"Miss Quinnick, you're holding onto something. It's not my place to know what, but if you don't let it go, it will continue to hamper you. Come, let's practice."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

If she knew how little and yet annoying Henk spoke of, she would have chosen someone else to train with.

Livia did not hide her eye roll, but as a dutiful Initiate, she followed after him some way. "I am not holding onto anything. I just find it... difficult to figure out how to counter the attacks." Among her peers, Livia did better than she did here in the training facility dedicated to this Taskforce. She had thought it had to do with the experience the Dreadlords had under their belt, that their deadly dance had been perfected.

She stopped in place when Henk lead her some ways from the rest of those training, finding herself standing taller to look more capable.

"I do not like being left behind... and that is how I feel I am here. I could have left, but I was not going to do that in front of the Archon and what she fought for." And Liv was glad in that decision to stick with it, to have the Archon help identify that what she thought was corrupted, in fact was a manifestation of magic able to corrupt other magic. She was not born to this power, not like her compass traits.

In her eyes, she was still a liability.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Livia didn't trust him, not enough to be completely honest with him. That was to be expected, and Henk didn't fault her for that. Someday, though, she'd have to confront whatever demons she faced, especially if she hoped to stand a chance against rogue Archons. "You were chosen to be here for a reason." Henk spoke as he led her to a secluded spot at the edge of the field, with plenty of room for the two of them to move about.

"Zana sees something in you, Quinnick." The Dreadlord spun to face her, hands pulling the cloak over his body off, folding the seafoam garment neatly, and placing it on the ground beside him. "That gives you just as much right and reason to be here as any of us. Do not lose heart in how others treat you, their thoughts hold no weight." Henk's feet began to slide apart, dirt collecting on the edges of his boots as he lowers naturally into a fighting stance, seemingly opting to fight bare-handed.

The scales on his armor snap shut, and he parts his lips to release all the air from his lungs. He would start gently enough, without the use of his light. He needed to gauge her strength, to determine what she was capable of before he launched any sort of counter.

But... if you cannot move past such things..." A coy smirk played at his lips. "Embarrassing me would win you favor with the rest of our little team."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Livia had spent enough time in training for combat to notice the movements of her opponent. Her eyes did not need to register what exactly had moved of Henk, her own figure taking on a stance that would give her great movement to strike.

"Like I really care what they think when it comes to you." She did not mean it to be harsh in the way it was said, but it was honest in the way of what she thought. Liv did not bother with the trivial opinions of traitors and weaklings, not when she could see the worth the Archon, too, had in Henk. "I do not rise from stepping on others. At least my father taught me that before I offed him." She shrugged, and lowered herself only slightly so that it would be much easier to be on her toes against the loose stones underfoot.

And she was quick; she had whipped around to deliver a kick aimed low before bringing that foot down to hold steady as she promptly brought the other leg to aim at his side. Livia's dance training had been advantageous prior to her lessons at the Academy, although it did not make her spectacular. Henk was more experienced than her, but at least she did not want to argue back every word he uttered her way like she did with the Dreadlord Marks.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk felt a smile grow on his face at her words. Not at those of her Father and stepping on others, but of not caring about the opinions people held of him. She was one of the few who hadn't let herself be influenced, and yet...

She was about to form her own opinions of him. Henk was quite sure of that.

Livia was swift indeed, but she telegraphed her incoming kick with a dramatic whipping motion. Before her kick landed, Henk raised his leg to check the blow with his shin, his eyes never leaving her face. Quinnick's commitment to planting her foot so soon after the swing was a tell; a second kick coming from the opposite side would follow.

Combinations were effective if you could avoid making them predictable.

The Dreadlord raised his opposite arm slightly and slid about a half-meter forward, allowing Livia's second kick to connect with his ribs. Finally Henk's stoic expression would flinch as the pain quickly traveled through his torso, but no sooner had he connected did his arm come down and trap the Quinnick girl's leg against his body, the hardened material covering his arms exerting pressure against her ankle as the man brought the hand on his other side up to Quinnick's chest.

"Do not toy with me. I will not break."

Henk pressed his palm flat against her sternum, lifting her up with the strength of one arm, using her trapped leg for leverage as he threw her down, dumping her unceremoniously onto her back. He stepped back, resetting his stance and waiting for her to rise again.

"That was a good one-two combination, but an experienced brawler will see right through it." He explained it to her as if he were merely pointing out a spelling error. Flicking his head up, he beckons her to try once more. "Again. But do not do all of your thinking before you strike. To defeat an Archon, you'll need to think in fractions of a second, between each and every move you make. If you have no plan, there is no counter-plan."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

As soon as he had her leg trapped at his side, and his hand braced against her chest, Livia knew she fucked up.

She squirmed, fought her way desperately to get out from his clutches but as soon as her other foot left the ground, she knew it was too late and braced herself for the fall. Winded, Livia winced so deeply she was reeling in a daze. Her back burned from the impact, forcing her eyes to open wide as the inferno took it's time to dissipate.

Henk began speaking, unable to retain what was said, but she could understand him past the pain enough to go through her emotions. Annoyance, that was the forefront to his words, but then seeped in anger, revenge. Somewhere, she heard the all too familiar laughter that belonged to Marks.

The pain was not a quick one to be rid of so soon, and Livia began to push past it all and slowly got to her feet. She could feel small pieces of stone stick to the back of her neck, and her lower back where her black shirt lifted from the impact. Deciding to leave them there, to not brush it off, Livia settled into a stance before Henk and did as he commanded.

She tried again.

Livia had speed as an advantage, but it was no use to her if even Henk could determine her next moves within the same second as her attack. An experienced brawler, he had called it.

She needed to counter that.

Quinnick stepped forward and dropped down to her knee and pivot, keeping herself low before rising that needed edge to jab her elbow at his lower back in the kidneys. Now, she needed to be far from him, to get back on her feet. Liv rolled, collecting more pieces of loose stone against her lower back and hands. Once she stood, she was back on the offensive. Punch after punch, Livia varied her movements, some not landing but she was an inexperienced brawler. Her magic was her might.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Livia's second volley of attacks fared better; Even if she hadn't thought that she'd heard his words, her mind had still processed them and applied his advice subconsciously. She was teachable, and that made all the difference in crafting a strong fighter. Quinnick used her speed to the utmost advantage now, going low before quickly rising with an elbow to his midsection.

The hit landed clean, and this time the Dreadlord hadn't allowed it to happen. Henk winced and stumbled, giving Livia the time she needed to roll herself to into place for a vicious salvo of punches, each aimed at a different area of his body, never repeating. She'd taken to Henk's words well, and it showed in how many of her attacks slipped past his deflections, nearly half of her punches found their mark, and the initiate was now using her speed, in conjunction with unpredictability, to push him back.

He wasn't about to stay on the defense forever, though. When next he felt a pause coming in her attack, Henk quickly raised an arm between them. The 'scales' of his armor opened to expose the flesh of his arm underneath, shimmering brightly as though they'd been set alight. A split second later, a burst of light erupted from his arm, shaped into beams by the flaps in his armor and pushing Quinnick away.

"That was better. Much better." Henk smiled, peeking out over his arm, with steam still coming out from the openings. In a no-frills fistfight, she was a force to be reckoned with. "Breaking out of that assault without my magic would have been tough. But remember, we're going after prodigious mages, the best of their era." Pulling the armor closed again, Henk resets himself for a third time, and takes an open stance this time, with his arms raised at his sides and his midsection open.

"Your magic, Livia. What power does it grant you?"

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

His praise was not something Livia sought after initially, but to hear the jeers and commotion of those that decided to watch from afar certainly brought a small ghost of a smile to her lips. The crowd was different to that of the Academy, where her peers would encourage her opponent to strike her down. She was the weaker one, the one they needed to squash. Here? She could feel the power in her screaming muscles, the adrenaline coursing through her now.

"Which one?" She answered his question with her own, shaking out her hands as they ached after the punches she served. "Compass magic, it helps me find weak spots. Corruption magic..." She shrugged. Quinnick was not well versed in wielding it besides the primary function of it. Adept at corrupting the human body, magic was still another thing she needed to work on, and the Archon was helping guide Livia through this magic she did not ask for when her father imbued it within her. "The most I can do with it now is make magic faulty." And a light touch of telekinesis, but even that was not under full control. They were hands unseen to anyone's eyes, and felt not attached to her when wielding. That part, she will leave out for now. Corrupting magic... that was what she was training to do.

She certainly was not going to try it with his ray of sunshine.

Perhaps she was beginning to clue in where Henk was going to with his talk of her magic. She began to circle him now, talking and waiting for a moment that would show her a point to strike. "When I first got to the Academy, they thought I was only good for leading people to places, to track things down. Not everyone is Arethil's best tracker, but I wanted to be more than that. I became one of the best in throwing knives, and shooting arrows. I became one of the brightest on textbook. One thing I could never get to is bringing down an opponent." Even if she played dirty and used magic, used a weapon, Livia was always knocked down.

But she always got back up again.

Livia stepped inwards, delivering a directed jab at the back of Henk's knee.


Henk

 

[Henk]

Henk was vaguely familiar with Livia's compass abilities, but he'd heard only vague mention of that other facet of her skills, the one granted to her by another. Still, it was not truly the function of her magic that he'd been asking about, even though it may have seemed so from his words. As Quinnick began to circle him like a tiger stalking prey before the pounce, Henk found himself smiling at her words, her desire to be more, the yearning for more than what her abilities currently gave her.

It was like hearing himself from only a couple of years ago.

"Your intentions are in the right spot, but you're focusing too hard on one aspect of things." Henk gently spoke in correction, not turning his head to look at her as she paced. "Your physical abilities are not the only thing that can push you beyond the role the Academy sets for you. You've honed your body, brain, and eyes, yet still you show frustration with your magic's capabilities."

Quinnick quickly stepped inward from behind, aiming to take Henk out at the knee with a precise blow. It was indeed a weak spot, and a sold hit would have caused him to buckle. However, The Dreadlord was prepared to counter such an attempt. Turning his palm discreetly to face her as they spoke, Henk unleashed a blinding flash of light from his fingers, aimed towards her face as she stepped forward. It would do nothing but hinder her vision for a brief moment, but it was enough for him to sidestep her attack effortlessly.

Henk spun in place and planted his foot back down only a few feet from where he'd stood before, taking the same stance once again.

"When I was your age, I was seen as nothing but support. I could shape and emit light, and little else. What role was there for me but a torch with legs? It was a niche ability that I was gifted with, one that carried little in the way of offensive abilities."

A slow smile crept across his scarred face.

"So I began to focus on my hand-to-hand combat training, as well as my studies. I trained my body and mind in an attempt to compensate for my unremarkable magic, because the one thing I could never figure out was bringing down an opponent."

Henk clenched his fists, the slits of his armor opening to release an otherworldly glow, a light so thick you could imagine your hands wrapping around it, grasping it, and shaping it like clay.

"But there's so much more to all of us, hidden beneath the surface. You too have hidden depths, Livia. You are no mere compass, no simple corruptor. You must foster your magic the same as your body. Lest it fall behind and leave you outmatched."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

As Henk spoke, Livia could not help but feel as if she made a grave error in denying training with Dreadlord Marks.

What more was there to combat?

After he had used his light to deter her eyes from him as he stepped away from her, Livia huffed and skewered him with a look. He was dancing away from her, making her work in order to truly understand the lesson he was teaching. At least Livia knew how to make Marks shut up after a while.

"Everyone's magic is different," She countered, pacing around him once again and warily so. "I was not born to be corruption. Am I supposed to really accept this that was forced upon me?"

Livia slowed her steps and stopped before him, brows kitting together as she looked at Henk. "My studies are no question, combat... is a work in progress," Here she shrugged at him, "and my magic, well, I have to fall to a depth I do not know if I can come back from."

Frustration clung to the edges of her, but Livia paid no attention to it no more. Her mind was not fixated on finding the anomaly, the mistake she made that she needed to overcome.

Who knew Henk had such wisdom to impart?

Henk

 

[Henk]

Livia exercised far more caution now, her movements slow and deliberate, watching for any slight movements. An improvement, and another demonstration of her teachability.

"Livia... None of us were truly born to be anything. Our fates are not set in stone at birth, but built before us as we move forward." Henk smiled, not turning his head as she circled, but following her with his eye when she was in sight." "You and I were not born to be killers, it was the Academy that constructed such a road for us to travel."

At last, she came to a stop in front of him, dropping her combat stance and raising her shoulders in a frustrated shrug. The discord within her, the turmoil between her capabilities and her mental image of herself created a conflict she would not overcome so easily. Henk knew of such things intimately.

"I was afraid of being a Dreadlord once, if you can believe it." Henk's arms dropped slowly, his defenses dropping as she seemed to choose conversation for the time being. "I didn't want to kill, or to hurt. I just wanted the ones I cared about to be happy." This life had been thrust upon him, not chosen. The clash between wishing to live a peaceful life and wishing to serve those who had become his family had been a troublesome one, that had nearly found him dead.

"When my friends and the woman whom I loved needed me, needed my strength, I was too cowardly to protect them. I feared what I would become if I sank too deeply into my own power. I feared becoming a true killer. I ran, and I've lived with that immense regret ever since. There are some things, however difficult, that we must accept. Only when I accepted what I am was I able to harness it, Miss Quinnick."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Liv deepened the knitting of her brows.

"I have no trouble in killing." The falseness to those words hidden deep inside, masked by her ability to sweep it aside. "And I thankfully have not seen loved ones in a position where I needed to use my magic to save them." The accounts of the graduation the year before were not forgotten by Livia, but she believed her own graduation would be different. She had faith in herself and classmates to not make such a decision... but when push came to shove, Livia knew her will to prove herself would come out for the better.

"I just... do not know what I am." She sighed, shoulders drooping.

"You are a hell of a shot, Quinnick. Your senses are better than those of us that call ourselves seasoned." Came the call from Marks, who had taken to watching the Initiate be schooled by someone else. "You've got anger girl. I suggest you use some of that and release your burdens."

Livia pursed her lips, turning round to face the other Dreadlord. "I do not have burdens."

He guffawed, garnering attention from others in the vicinity. "We all do, Initiate. Go on then, stun us."

Livia looked over at Henk, olive eyes darkening. "Can we go somewhere no one can watch?" If she had to be honest, to be absolutely honest, then she would not come undone before the eyes of others. There was much to Livia that she kept hidden, keeping up this veiled image of her that everyone got to know. Zana knew of her past, of the girl she had been before being sent to the Academy. Livia told Maseno, and she began to confide in Silas. Everyone had made her feel guilty for committing patricide, but none of them truly understood. "Just us. If you really want me to accept myself... I need to know I cannot put any one else at risk."


Henk

 

[Henk]

Livia's protests and rebuttals sounded as empty and hollow to Henk as they likely did to herself. Whereas she'd declared herself free of substantial baggage before their fight had begun, those same claims now held far less weight; She knew him to be correct, and she wanted to take his advice to heart, but...

Henk looked over at Marks, a shit-eating grin on the young man's face as he so happily offered his two-sense in the situation. When Henk had been forced to make this leap, to accept what he was and let go of the things that weighed him down, he too had run to find a place isolated from all those who may judge him before he could even begin. Doing so had cost him greatly, and continued to do so.

But it didn't have to cost her.

"Very well." He nodded slightly, leaning over to retrieve his cloak and throw it back over his shoulders. Yes, any advantage he could give Livia that he'd not had the luxury of would be good. Perhaps, he hoped, she could reach her true potential without the resentment and sadness he now carried as a result. "Do you know where the old groundskeeper's house is at the Academy? Not the one by the sparring field, the one tucked behind the men's dorms. Meet me there tonight. I have a place you won't need to worry about prying eyes."

It would give him time to prepare. If Livia was serious about training with him, about attempting what he'd told her, she would need a safe place, somewhere where he could help, but where the lives of others were not at risk. With a small bow, Henk turned to walk back to his meditation spot. But not before turning and speaking back to her with a cautionary voice.

"If you do not conquer yourself, there will come a time where you will wish so very dearly that you had. By that time, it will be too late. I'll see you tonight."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

It was not nerves that fretted Livia as she paced in a meandering fashion, waiting for the moment Henk made show of arrival.

"If you do not conquer yourself, there will come a time where you will wish so very dearly that you had. By that time, it will be too late."

She had thought on those words the rest of the day since returning to the Academy, unable to rest until she knew what he had meant. It chewed away at her during dinner, and Silas kept looking back to raise his brow at her when he realised she had been staring at him... but really it was past him. Her dinner went untouched, and it had been a reasonable meal of roast turkey and winter vegetables. There was even a soup she heard many enjoying.

But she did could not bring herself to be outside her thoughts.

Livia had theories; ways to go about the advice Henk imparted with her before going their separate ways.

Now she was waiting, turning at every sound she heard in her surroundings but it had been the passing inhabitant of the dormitories for the boys.

Not one to be stationary for long, Livia slid out one of her knives and tossed it from blade to catch it by the hilt, and vice versa. Henk had not given a time, but being here now felt right.

Henk

 

[Henk]

When at last the call from Henk did arrive, it was not from the distance, but from within the small, abandoned shack he'd directed her to. The door opened with a creak, and the splintered wood sputtered as it dragged along the ground. "I'm glad you came, Miss Quinnick. Come." Henk greeted her with a soft smile before retreating back into the shack, leaving the door ajar for her to follow.

His attire had changed from earlier in the day. The seafoam green cloak he'd worn was gone, as was the armor he'd worn over his shoulders, arms, and back. Instead, Henk wore an old, dusty looking coat with a collar that flared up over the sides of his face slightly, and with frayed threads where the sleeves had once been. On the back of said coat was the faded symbol of a Dreadlord Initiate.

"Not many people know about the secret to this shack. I used to use it to sneak out of the Academy, when times were... trying." Henk had started his training before the revolution, when the Proctors showed no qualms about using the most unforgiving and ruthless of tactics. They were not afraid to dispose of the weak. As he spoke, Henk reached down towards the floor, pulling a latch and lifting a hidden trapdoor. A ladder within led down into a large, dimly lit chamber of brick and dirt, branching off in several different directions.

On the ground was a large square mat, unrolled in the center of the chamber. Henk dropped from the ladder and tapped the tip of his foot on the surface with a small smile.

"These tunnels run from here all the way to the city. No idea what they were used for, but it's a handy way to move from one place to another with a bit of privacy." Henk explained, turning and waiting for her to descend behind him. "And this chamber? It's the perfect size for a bit of sparring, without unwelcome guests."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Livia wasted no time in hurrying after him. She did not so much as say a word in greeting, but wordlessly followed him down the ladder. She was surprised such a space existed, a haven away from whatever terrors of the past that happened. "I wish I knew about this place when I first got here." For months she had been dragged from her bed and dumped into the Falwood, blindfolded and her ankles bounded with metal welded shut together to keep her from moving far. The Initiates had wanted her to crawl back, to find her way back with her useless compass magic.

Those ghosts left her mind as she surveyed the room, no smiles or interest showing on her facade.

"Will you not tell me what it is I must do, Dreadlord Henk?" Her olive eyes, sharp and unwavering, cut to look at him in a sidelong glance. "What is it I have to do before it is too late? Let this magic burn me?" Livia's eyes narrowed, her lips pursed.

Henk

 

[Henk]

For a man with one eye, there was much that Henk could see. He saw the eagerness in Livia as she followed him, saw the brief conflict within her mind as this hidden safe haven brought conflicting thoughts to her mind, and saw the bitter twitch of her lip on the end, the repeating point of a cycle that led back to the crux of the matter, that disrespect for her own gifts she simply couldn't shake.

Henk felt his lips tighten as he recognized that resentment in her tone. Not from her, but from him. How many times had he cursed his abilities? How many times had he wished to never be burdened with them? Too many to remember. It was a path of pity, and one he no longer allowed himself to walk.

"I can tell you everything I know, but whether you can accomplish what I speak lies entirely with you." Henk brings his arms over his chest, regarding her with a studious gaze. "You, Livia Quinnick, who loathes one of your gifts and fears the other. You, who sees the magic you wield as a burden, as a black spot upon yourself."

Henk's hand moves to the frayed remnant of the old coat's sleeve, gripping it tightly.

"The last time I wore this coat, I was like you. A scared Initiate. I knew somewhere deep inside of me that I held great power, but I feared what allowing myself to use it would do to me, what it would make me become." When finally he'd realized how foolish his thinking was, it was far too late.

"The most important thing I can tell you is this: It isn't worth it to be afraid. The people you care about, the people you love, they need you to be strong for them. You cannot protect what is most important to you if you fear yourself, if you doubt yourself."

Slipping the coat from his back, he tosses it aside and slides into his fighting stance, bringing his fists up to either side of his head.

"Let it go."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

If you doubt yourself.

Because she had been. No matter her successes, her reassurance that she was a capable Initiate, there was always that doubt in the back of her mind, undermining herself. Her distrust in her mother, who always had been critical. Her father, who brought her up on false hope and only used her as a pawn for his greed in more power.

It was a life chosen for her, but she forgot all of that... but not entirely.

Let it go.

Livia looked to Henk, almost skeptical.

But being an Initiate had been her choice. Her brother may have had the idea put forth to her, but she chose this fate alone.

How can she let go now without putting Henk in harm's way? Letting go the first time, that killed her father. The other times were out of anger and weakness, killing her tormentors. Henk was an innocent to this power, and she certainly did not want his death on her conscience. "Shield yourself then." Perhaps a warning was all she could do? He was older, wiser, and with his own magical skillset.

Livia turned around the room, wandering aimlessly as she began to calm herself down, to ground herself. She had only touched on this magic with Zana, who had been well equipped in shielding herself against Livia's attempts, but to let go? That was a depth she was too scared to dive into. He said not to fear it, because that was the very obstacle stopping her.

"Please tell me you can shield yourself." Olive eyes cut straight to Henk, a need for confirmation.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Slowly, Henk felt a smile creep across his face. There it was again, that fear and hesitation that was holding her back. This time though, she was listening. He could see her mind racing, her resolve to keep fighting her own nature crumbling away, chip by tiny chip.

She'd stopped lying to herself. That was the start she needed.

"I'm a Dreadlord, Livia." He assured her, tightening his stance and planting his boots firmly into the mat underneath him. In preparation for whatever was coming, he began to gather his own might, letting the light within him burn steadily brighter, starting at his core and spreading through his limbs. In the dim cavern, he would appear to glow brighter than the lanterns around them. "I know exactly what I'm asking for, and I can handle myself."

In the worst case, he could attempt that transformation that Zana had pulled out of him to avoid any major damage. Still, he hadn't perfected that technique, and reverting to his normal state was difficult. No, better to try and defend practically, if he could.

Henk waited, but the attack never came. Livia paced, wrestling with herself. She was nearly there, but now, looking out over the cliff he'd pushed her onto, she could not bring herself to take that final leap of faith. It was a terror he knew well. However, it was also one he'd defeated before. One he knew what it took to overcome.

"The Artesto boy. You're quite fond of him." Henk spoke lowly, changing the tone of the room in an instant. "I give you this chance now to help you avoid my mistake. Do not wait until you're standing over his unconscious body to release yourself from these chains, Quinnick." It had taken the near death of a woman he'd loved to awaken him from his stupor, and waiting so long had irreparably harmed their bond. Henk tightened his fists.

"What you become does not matter, so long as you choose your own actions, create your own fate. If destiny would make you a monster, then be the monster that any who would harm those you love fear most as they lay in bed at night."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

The mention of Silas had gotten Livia's attention. Her head whipped around to face Henk, olive eyes wide and scared. She could not hide it. After all the confusion of her own feelings for Silas, she would not forgive herself if he was lying lifeless and she had every power to stop it. She had pushed her family away to avoid making a mistake, and had done the same to Silas when she realised he meant more to her than she thought someone could.

Livia had thought herself a monster many times. This magic... the one she never asked for. Learning the intentions of her father's plans with her magic was monstrous.

"I do not want to be..."

But Henk simply stared at her. Waiting.

He was a Dreadlord, he can handle this.

At least she never killed a Dreadlord before... perhaps he could hold his own.

Livia dropped her arms to her sides, taking a deep breath in and out. She turned away from him, her back facing him. No distractions. This needed to be done. Quinnick closed her eyes and breathed in deeply. Magic responded, holding her hands as if it truly were a sentient and embodied thing like, a presence unseen but felt. Her fingers curled around it, exhaling as she drew on more power.

And the room crackled, as if energies were running quickly and erratically but Livia held her own. Her compass magic kept her steering True North, to the ends of the cavernous magic she was given. She kept going, and going, calling upon more magic than she had ever feared to loose upon the world again, because she had been afraid. Livia could feel the pressure in her throat, the trapped sense of a scream stifled, ready to be unleashed.

She drew on more magic.

The crackles now lashed at her. Loose strands of her hair floated upwards in limp sections, dropping only when Livia's magic stayed at this level more a moment longer. The energy began to press outwards, slowly recreating the bursts of magic that killed others before in the past. Her father and the tormenting Initiates. She began to feel the corruption, the doubt placed into already set magic and setting them off in strange manner, as if they were distracted. Livia had done this to someone's heart once. In the Empire. She had corrupted the heart and watched a man die.

The guilt had never quite left her.

Livia raised her hands, the crackling zoning in to her curled fingers as she gripped tighter on the physical magic and pulled it down with her as she sank to her knees with an ear piercing scream. She released her hold on her magic, and the blow of it disturbed anything in the cavern. Loose items were thrown against the walls, the ladder shuddering from the impact. Livia screamed still, longer than she could have done naturally, but she could feel her magic change.

She felt it grow powerful, wrap around her like a caress of dangerous magic. Fill her with pride and triumph.

And when her lungs were clear of air to give to her scream, she fell forward onto her hands, gasping. Her breaths came in wheezes, trying to remember how to inhale and exhale without issue. Her hair fell down her face, obscuring it from view. Livia did not notice it at first, not until she swatted a side back over her shoulder. The dark brunette portion to her hair was gone, leeched of it's colour with the silvery white ends that came after her magic was first used.

"My... hair..." Her voice so soft, ragged, and tired.

Henk

 

[Henk]

Finally, she took that final plunge off the cliff of safety and familiarity, hurdling herself down into the frigid depths of the unknown. Henk wished that he could say with certainty that she had nothing to be concerned about, but the truth was far murkier. Livia was younger than he was, her body was thinner and frailer than his, despite her unmistakable strength.

Henk had an Archon to watch over him, but Livia had only a single Dreadlord.

Even so, Henk knew well the embrace of magic, and recognized the weight of the crackling tendrils that seized her at her own command. He'd seen them long before she realized the gravity of her power, struggling to break free of her insecurity even when they'd sparred together earlier that day. A small smirk pulled at his lips as she wound all the power she could muster around her, asserting her authority over that which she wielded.

Quinnick wasn't just blindly calling her power; she was guiding it, using the ability she already had control over to guide that which she didn't. The very ability that she lamented as a trifling utility power was in fact the key to unlocking that which she'd always chosen to lock away in fear. The Dreadlord slid back, quickly outstretching his arms and focusing the light he held within him into his palms.

Just because Livia had control of this massive amount of energy now did not mean it would stay that way. All of this magic would need to go somewhere.

Expelling the light from his palms, it poured like liquid sunbeams onto the ground beneath him, pooling like water. Throwing his arms upwards, Henk commanded it to rise, shaping the hardened light into a protective dome around him. Livia's might lashed out around him, crackling and colliding against the walls and floors, obliterating several of the lanterns lighting the chamber in a single strike.

If Henk had opted for one of his ordinary barriers, instead of the stronger hard-light variant, it would have likely disintegrated him as well."That's it..." He muttered from within his dome, arcs of raw magic bouncing harmlessly from the walls he'd erected. "Don't run from it. You can face it now."

With a final scream, the entirety of Livia's gathered strength erupted outwards in a devastating shockwave. The lights within the cave flickered as the lanterns shook and swayed, the mat underneath them was torn and tattered to shreds, and even Henk felt the impact against his shield, wincing and reinforcing it with another burst of light as he saw the smallest crack begin to form.

And as quickly as the maelstrom began, it ended.

The cacophony turned to silence, and the screams died into quiet, heavy breaths. Henk allowed the dome around him to fade, cracking and breaking apart into glowing shards that dissipated the moment they hit the floor. Livia remained, a stronger and more capable girl.

No, not a girl. Tonight, she'd earned the right for Henk to consider her every bit the adult that he'd become. Livia Quinnick was no child. She'd become something greater, something complete.

She would feel his hand upon her shoulder, still warm from his light.

"You did a good job tonight, Livia. I knew you would."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Livia did not know at what point she had been crying. She sniffled, stirring as Henk's hand gently squeezed at her shoulder.

Different. She felt different. Strength came natural to her, in every movement of her frame, Livia felt magic bring her to life. her hand reached out for Henk's hand, gripping it to help steady herself to her feet and turned to face the Dreadlord. Her olive eyes shone brighter, perhaps a trick of the now lighter hair that replaced the rich browns of her natural hair colour.

"My hair." She repeated. "I have to hide it... I cannot..." She bit down hard on her bottom lip to keep it from quivering with anxiety. "Not everyone knows of my second magic." Too scared to breathe it into reality, to give any of them any signs of weakness as if these were times before the Revolution. She only survived this far because of the call to change.

But now? She was a force not to be reckoned with. Corruption came in many ways, and paired with her Compass magic, Livia knew she could find weak spots in any wall put up against her.

"I have to... I have to tell the Archon." She shivered, realising that a chill had settled here. "This... changes my training."

And puts her on the course to truly hunt down an Archon. Compass magic would have gotten a team where they needed, but Livia would be the most obvious weakness, even with the deadly aim of any arrow or dagger in her possession to wield.

Now? Now Livia could find the smallest of cracks in armour and exploit it.

"They cannot see me like this..." She whispered, turning away to inspect the damage she created. How will she explain to those she never told of this hazardous magic?

Henk

 

[Henk]

This is what Henk had known to be inside of Livia since he'd first seen her fight. The potential had always been there, waiting to be tapped into. The only thing that had been holding Quinnick back was herself, and that was a self-imposed barrier Henk did not fault her for placing. The Dreadlord remembered how petrifying that fear had been, how his knees had buckled at the thought of plunging into what could be.

Alas, they had not the luxury of fear. The lives they lead as Dreadlords do not allow them to be so selective about the road they travel. There was some small measure of pride within him as he helped Livia to her feet, that she'd broken past those fears and seized control of her potential.

At least, he'd thought she had.

But even as she stood once more, collected her thoughts and assessed the results of her powerful outburst, her voice began again to quaver with fear and worry. Doubts and reluctance crept into her throat like thieves in the night, aiming to steal what progress she'd made today. Henk felt his face tighten and his lips curl into a tight from as he interrupted her.

"You cannot hide it from the others. Not when you've finally stopped hiding it from yourself for so long." Henk understood her hesitation, but the time for eluding the truth had long since passed. "It will come out, Livia. One way or another. Those who are truly important to you, who truly care, will remain regardless." Again, he places his hand on her shoulder, offering a comforting pat as he moves to stand in front of her.

"This is who we are, Livia. We're Dreadlords. Chosen to be weapons. Tonight, you've stopped fighting the undertow, and the waves have brought you to the truth. There is no shame in that. None whatsoever."

Livia Quinnick

 

[Livia Quinnick]

Livia narrowed her eyes at Henk, and yet she listened to his words. He was right, of course he was. Did he not say countless times that he understood what it was she was going through? He was a Dreadlord experienced by the things he could have prevented. Henk helped her before anything could get any worse for her.

Back in the Empire, when she fought with Skender, he had told her she was now officially an Initiate of the Academy, but now? Now she felt as true as the words the Dreadlord spoke. Quiet thinking had Livia forget the hypothetical, and see the future.

"Dreadlord Quinnick has a ring to it." She commented softly, eyes focusing on something on the floor of the cavern. "I would not be subjected to being only a Fourth Rank now, would I?" If she could master this magic, learn just how far corruption would go... it was a deadly combination with her compass magics.

"You know what is awful? That this is what my father had planned by him forcing this stolen magic upon me. He wanted me to become like this..." And if what he had written in those journals were true, Livia played host to a magic that would one day fight to control her mind, but as long as her compass magic was strong, she would find her way out of the dark thoughts.

Henk