VoC: B1 — 33. Pressure
Added 2025-10-03 23:01:29 +0000 UTCPoV:
1. Aria (Our Sun Elf Lich Sister!)
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The evening air carried the scent of baking bread and horse leather, woodsmoke and the faint sweetness of whatever flowers grew in the window boxes three stories above. Aria sat at one of The Silver Chalice’s outdoor tables, fingers drumming against worn wood that held the memory of a thousand meals, watching the street transform under golden-hour light.
A bell rang out throughout the city, seventeen times, causing her anxiety to bubble up as she adjusted her summer hat, ears twitching softly.
Five o’clock? C’mon, Damon, where are you? Why did you ask to use [Slow] out of nowhere? I almost tripped into Aldrich’s arms and looked like a total klutz… Kind of cool he can get my Feats from that far, though. I should have tried. Should I try? No. Not right now. He might trip into a pretty barmaid’s chest and get slapped… That would be my luck.
She’d watched his mana drain alarmingly quickly while selecting the beautiful accessories adorning her ears and hair with the count. It went back up to maximum, but that didn’t tell her what happened.
Trying to distract herself from the worry, she cycled through the status sheet again. It was more complex than every dungeon master book and physics class she’d taken—submenus that went on forever.
Let’s see… Bonding settings. Let’s look a little into these options… I can turn on radial tracking?! Why isn’t that standard?
She swiftly toggled it on and felt a tug, almost physical, like a string wrapped around her throat, nudging her to the east. Subconsciously, she knew he was in that direction, but not how far he was. It was quickly toggled off after playing with it for a few seconds.
That’s headache-inducing, she grumbled to herself, scanning other random options in its submenu. You can adjust the tug, but it’s still annoying… Oh, there’s a desire impulse option! Nice. I can get an idea whenever I want to know where he is… Can he do that to me? Mmm.
Leaning back, she glanced around, internally debating the implication. They’d need to set some kind of boundary at some point.
This part of Bluerise felt lived-in in a way the grand plazas and marble halls didn’t. The cobblestones here were uneven from decades of cart wheels and foot traffic. She even saw a few workmen replacing some sections; almost everyone here was human.
Laundry hung between buildings, flapping like festival banners, keeping rhythm with a street vendor’s call about fresh fish. This wasn’t like the heavy production zone she’d been in when selecting Damon’s coffin. This area was primarily focused on finished goods, restaurants, and inns. Real people doing real work, heading home after long days, stopping to gossip with neighbors before disappearing into modest inn doorways with greeters welcoming their patrons.
Middle-class respectability—the kind that worked for what it had and took pride in keeping it. She abruptly found her mind wandering back to all the times her big brother had returned from work, well after Sophia got in, sometimes at midnight, tired but smiling upon seeing her.
This is actually kind of nice, Aria thought, watching a mother usher three children past while balancing a basket on her hip. Not the fantasy anime aesthetic I imagined, but…real. Solid. Gossip is way bigger than back on Earth. But no, I guess we had it too, just on social media.
The Silver Chalice fit perfectly into this world, a nexus of city rumors. It made sense that inns would be that sort of thing. It was respectable without being fancy, clean without being sterile, the kind of place where craftsmen and minor merchants stayed when they had business in the capital.
She leaned back to look up at the inn’s sign—a chalice etched in silver paint, fading but maintained—swung gently in the breeze.
Don’t look at his companion list… Don’t look! Please, don’t tell me he got a cat girl because she gave him big eyes and said she didn’t have anywhere else to go… Wait, is that more my risk?
She debated it in her mind, reflecting on two times when she was ten, when she’d tried to pick up strays and bring them home.
Damon is more of a dog person, to be fair… Even if we never had one.
Aria had positioned herself at the corner table specifically because it gave her a clear view of the main street while keeping her back to the warm stone wall. Strategic. Not that she’d admit to being strategic about waiting for her brother.
My mind is everywhere… But no, I’m totally casual. Just enjoying the evening. Definitely not running through approximately seventeen disaster confessions in my head. Hey, bro, so who just got invited to the palace party? Me…
Her new jewelry caught the slanting sunlight, sending little prisms dancing across the table. The gold thread woven through her crimson braid gleamed like actual treasure. She looked like something out of a storybook—which was the point, she supposed, though it made her feel like she was wearing a costume.
A very expensive costume that people couldn’t help but stare at.
Stop staring. Yes, I’m a sun elf. Yes, I’m pretty. Can everyone please just exist normally around me?
But they couldn’t. She’d learned that today. Sun elf privilege wasn’t just real—it was overwhelming, suffocating, intoxicating—every interaction colored by reverence or fear or desperate hope that she'd remember them kindly.
I got a three-silver coffin because a Count thought I was interesting. Well, and pretty… And probably political stuff. Him, taking me to the party, means he’s hot stuff. Oh, no. I’m addicted to attention… Control your ego, girl!
Movement caught her eye.
Tess—the chocolate-haired serving girl who’d checked her in this morning—was hovering near the entrance. Not working, just…watching. Fidgeting with her apron strings while her gaze kept darting to Aria, then away, then back again.
Oh no. She wants to talk. She’s been wanting to talk since I got back. She’s working up her nerves…
Aria had noticed her earlier, practically vibrating with barely contained gossip energy. The girl couldn’t have been more than sixteen or seventeen—close to Aria’s actual age, though Aria currently looked like visiting seventeen-year-old royalty and Tess looked like exactly what she was: a merchant’s niece helping her aunt run the family business.
Please don’t come over. Please don't—
Tess came over.
“My lady?” Her voice came out slightly breathless, cheeks flushed with excitement and drawing a few more looks from others, waiting to see what she’d do. “I’m so sorry to disturb you, but I thought you’d want to know—”
Aria arranged her face into polite interest, the expression she’d been practicing all day. Serene. Mildly curious. Not at all like her heart just kicked into overdrive, hoping Damon wouldn’t pull her ear when he came back.
“Yes?”
“The former prince—your, um, your servant? He’s been spotted heading this way!” Tess leaned in conspiratorially, clearly thrilled to be delivering important news. “My cousin works near the craftsman district, and she saw him. She just left on the cart. Says he’ll be here in maybe five minutes, maybe less. And, oh!”
Her eyes lit up even brighter. “He has a Tamer companion with him, I think! A bonded creature, I mean. She said it was—”
“Don’t tell me.”
The words came out more sharply than Aria intended. Tess blinked, drawing back slightly. She saw the too-eager girl dial it back at the same time Aria tried to do the same.
“My apologies…”
“No, you are quite fine, Tess.” Aria softened her expression, adding a slight smile that she hoped conveyed a mysterious rather than manic quality. “I gave Damon a task, you understand. I wish to see if he succeeded on his own merits. Spoiling the surprise would rather defeat the purpose, wouldn’t it?”
Tess’ face transformed with understanding and delight.
“Oh! Oh, of course, my lady!”
Nailed it. Totally sounds like a demanding princess checking on her servant’s progress. Not at all like a little sister who’s been dying to know what pet her brother picked, she gets to adore and spoil.
“How wise!” The girl clasped her hands together, clearly eating this up. “You want to see if he meets your expectations! Testing his initiative and all.”
Sure. Let’s go with that, not at all dying of curiosity about whether he got something cute and fluffy that I can snuggle with or drool over… But Damon wouldn’t do a guy. He’d worry about my safety…even if I’m a lich.
“Precisely,” Aria said, channeling every ounce of regal confidence she could muster. “One must maintain standards, after all.”
“Absolutely! Oh, my aunt will be so pleased—we’ve been preparing the food orders you requested, and, umm, I hope you don’t mind, but I asked her if we could, eh, could give your new pet a special meat arrangement?”
The gossip girl winced, looking as if she was about to be scolded.
Instead, Aria beamed.
Meat? Oh. My. Gosh! He got a carnivore! Yes! Wolf? Is it a wolf boy?
“I’d love that.”
“Everything’s ready to bring out the moment we see him arrive.”
Please, be a scrawny wolf boy, we can beef up!
“Excellent work. You’ve been very attentive, Tess. I won’t forget that.”
The girl practically glowed, bobbing something between a curtsy and a bounce.
“Thank you, my lady! I’ll just—I’ll go make sure everything’s perfect!”
She scurried off, and Aria let out a long, careful breath.
Five minutes.
Her fingers resumed their drumming, faster now. The rhythm of her anxiety was bleeding through despite her best efforts to appear calm. It was as if she were a zoo animal, with all the eyes on her.
Okay. Okay. He’s coming. He’s safe—safe enough to be walking through the streets, at least. Five minutes to get my story straight. Five minutes to figure out how to explain the Archmage and the Count and the banquet and the fake divine contract and—
Stop.
Stop spiraling!
Why does it get so dark so soon here? It’s only like 5:10…
She forced herself to look at the street instead. To ground herself in the present moment, in the physical world around her.
The light was getting richer, deeper. That particular quality of early evening where everything looked like it had been dipped in honey and amber. Shadows stretched long across the cobblestones, and the temperature was dropping just enough to be pleasant after the day’s heat.
People were heading home, but the street wasn’t empty. A group of apprentices laughed as they passed, probably heading to whatever passed for entertainment in this district. An older couple walked arm in arm, comfortable in the decades of companionship. A street musician had set up near the corner, playing an actual violin that produced a melancholy tune carried on the breeze.
This could be nice, Aria thought, watching it all. If we weren’t running for our lives. If everything wasn’t so complicated. This could actually be…perfect.
But nothing was ever that simple.
Her eyes scanned the crowd, looking for—
There.
Her breath caught.
Damon emerged from a side street about thirty meters away, and suddenly the golden evening light seemed to focus on him like stage lighting, and Aria’s heart did a complicated gymnastics routine that would’ve scored a perfect ten.
He looked exhausted. Even from this distance, she could see it.
Dark circles under his eyes were visible even with his purple-toned skin. Shoulders tight with the kind of tension that spoke of pain carefully controlled, moving with that precise, measured gait that meant something hurt, but he was pretending it didn’t.
He had new clothes. Clean clothes. Not nearly as good as the ones she got, but there was a coin pouch strapped to a simple belt, a better cloak, and even boots.
Heat immediately rose in her chest, imagining all the racism and hardship he must have experienced since they parted. She had to shove it down fast to keep a scowl from forming.
Classic Damon… Look at that smile he’s giving me. Mr. “I’m Fine” even when he’s absolutely not fine. Okay, be happy, Aria! Make him feel good!
She forced her face into a smile, practicing it quickly in the reflection of her water glass. Bright. Excited. Supportive little sister who definitely had an amazing day and was totally killing it at this whole isekai thing.
You’re the light, Aria. Sophia isn’t here. Damon needs you to be the light. Not another burden. Not another problem to solve…even if I sort of am. I can still soften the blow! If I—
Then she saw what was walking beside him, and every coherent thought evaporated.
IS THAT A BEAR?! AHHHH! A little bear!
Oh my gosh, oh my gosh, oh my gosh, that’s a real bear!
The mental squeal was so loud she almost worried Damon could hear it, even though he was still too far for [Hive Mind] range. Compact, powerful, copper-colored fur, intelligent brown eyes, and this dignified waddle that was possibly the cutest thing she’d ever seen.
Focus! The bear is adorable, but FOCUS!
Twenty meters.
Aria stayed in her seat, fingers gripping the table edge. Every instinct screamed to run over, check on him, and demand answers to his [Slow] request.
No. Bad Aria. He’s in public—a dark elf. If you make a scene, you make things worse. And you’ve made enough things worse today. Control. You are the Master Commander!
Fake it till you make it. That’s what Sophia always said after getting fired. She’d come home, make jokes, stay positive… I can do that. I can be that for Damon. Make him laugh. Even if he doesn’t get my meta humor… Crap. I suck.
Fifteen meters.
His eyes caught hers. Something flickered across his face—relief, she thought. Genuine relief that made her heart seize, like seven bunnies thumping it with their feet.
He was worried about me while he was dealing with all that BS? That’s my big bro…
Ten meters.
The bear’s ears swiveled toward her. Its tail did a little wag.
Okay, but seriously, that bear is so cute, and like a dog padding along by his side. We have a bear cub! I totally call dibs with snuggling at night. And I’m absolutely petting it the second I can—
Then it happened.
The invisible threshold crossed. The thin thread of connection suddenly became a highway, and [Hive Mind] slammed into place like a door opening.
Damon!
Her brother practically jumped out of his purple skin, wincing and forcing a smile. The bear’s ears flew up, rising on his hind legs, looking adorable, and attempting to appear intimidating as he looked around for the scream.
“Aria… Could you not try to blow up my brain?”
Oh my gosh, forget about that! Are you okay? No one attacked you, right? I was starting to worry—wait, is that a bear?! You got me a bear! Oh. My. Gosh. He’s so cute! Not quite the hunky bear-man of my dreams, but I’ll take what I can get. Bring him here! Bring him here! Can I pet him? Please say I can pet him!
She totally nailed it. Excited little sister. Not “terrified little sister who sees big bro and wants to cry.”
His mental voice came back—steady, warm, home. He moved to take a seat, alert, tired eyes darting between every onlooker. Many of them were glaring, probably because he wasn’t being respectful to her as his owner…that he knew nothing about.
“Hello to you, too, Shego. Yes, you can pet him. His name is Copper. Go on, boy. Yeah, you see her. The villainess with a thing for hunky men. Who was that TV actor, Dean Blowchester?”
Oh, shut up! You watched enough of that to know his name, and he was hunky. Facts are facts, idiot… Ooooh! she cooed, rubbing the bear’s ears and unable to restrain a light squeal. He’s so soft. Damon, he’s putting his head on my lap! He loves me! I’m adopting him!
“Joke’s on you, I already adopted him.”
Then I’m stealing him! Copper! That’s such a good name! Did you come up with that yourself, or did someone help you? Never mind, tell me later. I’m mind hugging you so hard right now!
“I’m sure you are,” he chortled. “You seem to be in a bright mood.”
Keep it light. Keep it bright. Don’t let him see you’re freaking out.
“Okay?”
Aria’s fingers froze while brushing through Copper’s neck fur. Copper put his chin on her knee, watching her the way working dogs watch a handler—waiting for the next job, but her idiot brother totally occupied her attention in this moment.
I said that aloud. Stupid brain! Uh. I ordered you food! Aren’t I the best little sister ever? Praise me!
“Yes, yes, my lady of evil,” Damon laughed softly, running his hands through his hair in that way that said he was about to swap gears—that there was something more eating him up inside. “Actually, that’s really good, because these are a lot more trouble than I thought they were…”
Hmm?
Damon opened his mouth and pressed a thumb against his left fang, nose twitching with annoyance. “I think we both have a lot to talk about… Vera told me you’ve gotten yourself in quite the trouble, but wouldn’t tell me the details. I learned…a lot from her, actually.”
Aria’s mind flashed back to their visit with their mother, the maid who guided them.
Assassin music teacher. Mmm. Mmm. You went alley skulking with Uncle Stephen’s maid with benefits?
“Maid with—Aria…” Damon sighed, leaning against the table and rubbing between his eyes with a smile; it was real, which was good. “Your mind is something else.”
Hey, I’m seventeen, not ten anymore, bro, she defended. Tell me I’m wrong! We both know there’s a soft, squishy heart crying to be seen inside her tough exterior.
Tess silently came over, tight-lipped, before depositing a very healthy-sized meal in front of Damon, and then returned to get Copper’s portion. Aria hardly noticed, her mind melting into a story that bloomed in her mind, images and all, while absently petting her new little cub.
I can see it… A cold night, after a hard job—she comes crawling back into the study—he finds her, shouts her name. She’s bleeding, injured, and he picks her up like she weighs nothing…taking her to bed, grabs medicine—strips off her—
“Aria, you’re spiraling badly today.”
Her shoulders fell, and she glanced to the side, seeing the others watching like hawks—she couldn’t look defeated or it would reflect on Damon. She regained her composure.
No… You’re right. Umm. Here, you eat, I’ll tell you everything that happened, she mumbled, clasping her hands in her lap to keep them from trembling; she had to be stronger than usual. It won’t be easy, so…do you promise not to interrupt until I’m done?
Her bright blue eyes flicked to him, and she saw relief actually flood across his face after taking the first bite of the stew. One more calming breath, then he looked up with a small smile and nod that said more than ‘thank you’ ever could.
“You have my undivided attention. You really are amazing, Aria.”
Y-You’re trying to make me cry! You’ll ruin everything… Ugh. I can’t hold back. I’m sorry! I’m sorry! I…messed up. Bad…
Not physically cracking was the hardest thing she’d ever done in her life as Aria silently reported her entire fiasco of a day: The Archmage. The identity lie. Count Ravencrest. The spy familiar. The banquet invitation. The fake divine contract.
And Damon never said a word, yet his facial expressions and the moments he looked up from his food to look at her said more than enough.
He’d handle it.
When she finally finished, Aria braced for the explosion. The lecture. The “what were you thinking” followed by the inevitable problem-solving session, where he’d fix all her mistakes while looking disappointed.
Instead, Damon set down his spoon and nodded thoughtfully.
“That’s…a bit of a problem. However, I suppose wanting you to stay at the inn was unrealistic given our current situation. This could work out for us.”
Aria blinked.
Wait. What?
“The banquet is actually a terrible risk,” he continued, almost conversational as he reached down to stroke Copper’s back, still eating.
“The Archmage clearly has orders from Grandpa, or is working another angle with Uncle Stephen or another party. Not much we can do about that. But the party keeps you in a protected area with witnesses while I’m at the betting market tonight. Better than wandering the city. The slave contract also gives me cover. It’s clever, actually…”
Slave contract…clever? Huh?! Who are you and what have you done with my brother?
You’re…not mad? she ventured carefully, watching closely as concern ate at her chest. Why is your hand shaking? Are you petting Copper to… Wait, I can feel Copper’s feelings. He’s worried. Damon, what happened? Why can’t I feel…your feelings?
She swiftly pulled up her toggle menu for their bond, brow furrowing as it went to right what she desired. You…turned off the option to let me feel what you feel when we’re close…
His lips quirked, fingers curling into a fist. “Aria, I did that for both of us, because I know you don’t want your emotional state invaded. I get you’re worried, but this is a whole new world. We need to adapt. What, thought I’d blow my lid?”
Don’t do that. Don’t make this about protecting me when you’re clearly dealing with something, Damon. Yes! I lied to an Archmage! I created a fake divine contract! Half the city views me as freaking above royalty! Say something… she pleaded, leaning forward in her seat to glare at him, despite the spectacle and tension it brought all the peepers.
Her big brother only showed the same smile he had when they were struggling with money, due to her tuition or unexpected medical bills.
“We’re both trying hard, Aria,” Damon gently returned, which infuriated her. “I’m adapting to our new world, Aria. If I don’t, we’ll all die. You did good with the coffin—nice thinking. The Count? Yeah, I’m not thrilled. But I…have to trust you, even if it is hard for me, sis.”
Oh. Uh-huh. Just adapting, huh? She locked eyes with him as Tess snuck closer to deliver another plate for Damon she’d ordered; the girl quickly ducked out at their long staring contest. I’m not budging until you tell me what happened. I can’t feel safe unless you feel safe. I need to help you, too. Isn’t that what Soph always said?
That got a twitch from her big brother’s eye, bottom lip tucking in as he broke eye contact. “That was a dirty blow, Aria…”
It’s true! I…want to help, Damon.
“You are…” He trailed off, taking a deep breath.
Her brother leaned back and folded his arms, still not making eye contact, as even street carts stopped to watch their silent mime act. After a few seconds, his gaze returned, exhausted, pleading, and pushing her heart into a corner that [Lich’s Heart] should have countered.
It did not.
She cursed [Unchained Heart].
“Okay. We can talk about some of the things I’m dealing with. Will that help you?”
Yes! And no deflecting to romance or drama narratives.
“That isn’t my problem, Ms. Shego,” he snorted. “We do need to talk about your deviant mind, though, if you want to be royalty.”
Hey, I can’t help how my mind is, she defended, but the heat was gone from it as she settled in, motioning Copper to come to her so they could double-team him with stares. I have a weak heart when it comes to tropes. Sue me. C’mon, Copper. We give him the Look of Truth! You cannot lie, servant.
“Yes. Yes. And I’m not criticizing you.” His mental voice was soft. “I’m worried. There’s a difference. This isn’t New York. It’s not Earth… I’m having growing pains. It—”
He paused, sucking in a deep breath and letting it go in a long stream of air. She’d never seen this much stress, guilt, and something unidentifiable on his face.
Don’t cry. Don’t cry. She self-encouraged, this time making the thoughts private. You’re supposed to be the light, and he’s being sweet and vulnerable. Just keep yourself together for him!
Don’t push yourself, Aria mumbled, panic creeping back in. But, you’re…really not mad about the slave contract thing? Not that I’m trying to give you an out!
“No, Aria. I’m glad you’re okay. So long as you’re okay, that’s all that matters.” Damon reached into his cloak—a secret pocket, probably—and pulled out a sealed envelope. “Vera told me to open this after hearing your explanation…”
He broke it and slid out at least several pages of very small, neatly written instructions.
“And, hah, it’s instructions on how to word the slave contract to make it look legit… Uncle Stephen’s work, no doubt. Open up the contract you made and send it to me through the party system. I’ll amend it while I tell you about my day.”
Aria’s gaze darted to her invisible status menu, pulling up the hastily constructed divine contract. With a thought, she threw it across their mental link.
Including your experience with the Adventurer's Guild? she asked, unable to hide her curiosity with him actually opening up. I want to know every detail! Every stupid name they called you. No, point them out so I can electrecute them! No use Gravity Magic to throw them into space—not that I can do that yet, but I’ll make an exception!
“An exception for physics and reality… That tracks with you,” Damon chuckled to himself, unable to hide the anxiety in his voice.
He did what her brother did best, though, focus on what was in front of him as he started making amendments, his mental presence focused but conversational.
“Simply put. They rejected me. Wouldn’t even let me register. Hid behind paperwork, time constraints, and the like. We’ll have to try the guild in the city Sophia’s near.”
The casual delivery made it worse somehow. Aria felt heat rise in her chest again—that protective anger she had to keep shoving down.
Racist bastards.
“Mmm. It’s more complicated than that, but I will admit there is a rather disturbing drift away from Lawful Good in this kingdom’s underbelly. Anyway, then I tried to find a little buddy,” he shifted his smile to the cub, feasting on his third bowl of meat.
“Every vendor either refused to serve me, chased me out, or said they were closed for inventory.”
Yeah. Likely story…
“And, well, that’s when I found the underground betting market through Ashcroft.”
Wait, like actual underground? With criminals? That’s so anime! Is it like a secret market with cloaked figures and passwords?
Damon shook his head while changing statutes and listed laws with his eyes.
“Something like that. But they don’t care what race you are as long as you have money…or can make them money.”
He paused in his amendments, hazel eyes flicking up to meet hers. “I’ve, uh, got this rigged bet in my favor tonight—four rounds of a monster betting pit. I’m pretty confident in my lucky pick. Don’t worry—I’ll take care of everything while you have a good time at the party. After that, we head straight for Sophia.”
Just like he knew when she was deflecting, she knew when he was downplaying what was really going on behind the scenes. Still, she didn’t have the kind of leverage to force him to tell her everything…but what he did tell her did matter. It told her what wasn’t bugging him.
Oooh? Aria leaned back with a big, sly grin. You’ve got an inside man, huh? This Ashcroft? Not bad.
“Woman.”
Woman? Aria mirrored, her smirk rising higher with her eyebrows. I’ll have to tell Soph about that. What did you give this, ahem, Lady Ashcroft in return for this valuable information?
“Oh, grow up, Aria. You know I’d never cheat on Soph.”
Damon sighed, but she enjoyed the real stress relief that sigh of his elicited. She was doing her job well.
Hehe. You know I’m playing with you, she grinned back, cute and begging for an ear flick that didn’t come—sun elf public privilege. Go on! Go on! Tell me the other juice details.
“Well… I met this other woman—a snow elf…” he added, carefully studying her reaction that was all but predictable.
Chair shooting back, she practically jumped to her feet. Show me! I want to see her! Now! Was she pretty? Was she made of ice? No. Snow elf would be powdery, not icy crystal—but snow is crystal… Was she a snowman—eh, snowwoman?! More! Tell me more!
“Calm down,” he snickered, sitting back and poking a bit more at his food; he was getting more comfortable. “You really do help ground me, Aria… I need to keep on my toes if I’m going to keep you safe with a brain as deviant as yours.”
Wha—what was deviant about that?! She almost shouted aloud, face turning pink as she cleared her throat, then smoothly sat down, restraining a pout that had the onlookers gaping at the escalation. C’mon, don’t blue-ball me—snow elf. Speak!
“Merana Thorn,” he said, lifting his arms as if warding off evil and actually giving her a showy bow for the crowd, as if apologizing. “She’s a Level 55 Wyvern Tamer—Unity Tamer. Interested?”
Aria was holding herself back from rocking right out of her chair.
Level 55? Level 55?! Damon, that’s—
“I know. She’s powerful. Over a hundred years old, even. She lost her reincarnate, sort-of-lover in the Vanishing, and she’s…she’s been alone for a long time—not that she’s trying to date me, sis.”
I wasn’t… Okay, yeah, I was going to ask that, but fine, okay. Umm… Wow. She lost her lover…
“Don’t look at me like that,” her brother huffed as pleading stars gleamed in her eyes. “We can get into details later. She, uh…she used something called the Rosen Eye on me. She didn’t just look at my system, Aria…she looked into my soul and knew everything about me.”
Aria had to temper her emotions at that, sitting back and frowning while looking at a few of the carts that had stopped; mean to say, motion in the street swiftly picked up again, rumors abounding in whispered conversations.
You might not remember, but Mom told us about the story of Malik and the Monarch of the Rosen Flames—a dragon goddess who awoke last Veil of Chaos. They both vanished after Titania sent him up there—he was the Warrior Class of Tiania, Level 49, by the way, she added for context, piecing together the fragmented stories.
He sipped at his water, vision narrowing as Copper crawled up on the other chair at their table to sit with them in the most adorable position.
“If she’s the benchmark for just Level 55, we have a long way to go… She’s not an enemy. She gave me leverage and got me out of bandit prison, I suppose you could say, which isn’t much of a story. Anyway, when she showed up, she had these moving tattoos—her creatures.”
Aria was about to press him on the prison part when the last part completely threw her mind out the window. “Creature tattoos—they move?! Can they come off? I totally want some. Pet tattoos sound so badass! You need to get that so Copper can sneak on your back and just—pow! Come out and maul some baddie. But…are you really okay, Damon? Really.”
Damon settled back and waited a few seconds, tapping his fork against the plate before slowly shaking his head. “No, Aria… I’m not. I know I’m not acting normal. You’re worried. You’re my little sister. Of course, you’re worried… But we both know life doesn’t care if you’re okay or not.”
He looked up at her, and Aira’s nose burned, fire flowing up her throat as she remembered her earliest memory—ten years old, terrified, small—police outside the hospital door. Her big, seventeen-year-old brother came through it, tears running down his face, but wearing a pained smile as he reached out a hand, and she took it.
Safe.
She was safe.
Her brother ran his fingers through his hair again, not knowing what to do with his hands, no doubt. His cheeks puffed up before he blew out the air, and she saw her brother, not a dark elf, but the self-sacrificing brother she’d had her whole life in New York.
“I am struggling, but you helped me. You are my world, Little Shego,” he laughed, unable to restrain it outwardly. “I’ll do anything for you… So know that I’m okay because you’re okay. Make sense?”
A weight hit her chest like a tidal wave, as if she’d been submerged in darkness. If she messed up and got hurt. If she didn’t protect herself, then what would Damon do? She was stupid. So stupid. He was trying so hard, and she was just…playing and having fun when he was in his darkest hour.
…Yeah…
Damon’s brow furrowed, hazel eyes locking onto her blue. “Aria, you know I’d never let anything bad happen to you. Your joy does me more good than you can know. In fact, your insane anime, game, and roleplay fun has been…really nice, sis. I don’t want you to be stressed. I want you to have fun. Safely! Yes. But enjoy yourself.”
She forced a smile, fighting down a weird gut twist she didn’t quite understand why she felt. All she saw was her brother, locked in chains—her chains—dragging her back to the surface of the depths she’d fallen into.
It was guilt.
She felt guilt, exactly what Damon didn’t want.
No. No, yeah. Pfft. I’m having so much fun. Like, you don’t even know. I’m going to a royal banquet—maybe even see Mom! Yeah… Maybe see Mom. That’d be nice…
Damon had that look that said he was struggling to tell how much he should tilt on the brother/father-figure scale before saying, “I trust you.”
Yeah, Aria privately mumbled to herself, and that’s what I’m kind of afraid of…you trusting me now. I didn’t realize how much you rely on me. I need to do better, but I’m not sure if I can… No. I have to! I have to grow up… At least, in the ways I can. I can have fun. Yeah. I can! I didn’t do anything wrong. I was just…a bit reckless. But I’m also privileged, so…yeah.
Perking up, she asked, So, what about Soph? I know you must be dying to talk about her. What did Titania show you at the shrine?
Aria somewhat tuned out of the conversation after that, only catching small bits of information: a vision of their mom in a wagon, heading north, the city name that was closest to Sophia’s dungeon, and something about a shark girl.
And, out of all of those details, naturally, the least stressful came blurting out of her mouth. Shark girl? Hmm?
“No. Down, girl.”
The flatness of his refusal made her grin despite everything.
What is a little sister supposed to think when her big brother mentions a cute, helpless, shark girl? Big red eyes, calling you master, seeking help… Is that your type now? I didn’t peg you for the mermaid-with-fangs demographic. I’ll be sure to tell Soph what to cosplay as.
She felt his eye-roll through the bond.
“Ha-ha. Had your fun? She looks your age, Aria.”
DAMON!
“What?! I wasn’t—” He broke off, rubbing between his eyes with a chuckle. “You’re impossible. I was thinking you could use a friend, maybe. I don’t know. Someone your age.”
Yeah, we’ll see. But seriously, Aria pressed, genuinely interested now, immortality and healing? That sounds OP. Perfect for us, honestly. Very protagonists-who-refuse-to-die energy. There was this one disgraced saintess otome game I played once—
Damon made a noncommittal sound, but she could feel his amusement. “Uh-huh. We can get into that later with your romance fantasies. We have, eh, eternity, I guess, between us—well, if my vampirism is like that.”
Good question, Watson! And might I add you’re looking rather dapper today…or I would say that if it were true. I’ve got the hook-up, though. Trust!
She looked him over properly now—the clean clothes that definitely weren’t the prison rags or the outfit he’d left in this morning. Nice, actually. Practical but well-made.
Vera, I assume. Well, I did better. I like it, but go upstairs. Room 31.
“Vera,” he confirmed, with a shrug that said it wasn’t a big deal.
Her romance-novel brain was already constructing the scene: dangerous woman in the shadows, producing perfect clothes from nowhere, maybe her fingers brushing his shoulder as she helped him into the cloak, a moment of eye contact that lasted just a beat too long—
…Vera, she repeated, scenarios already spiderwebbing in her brain. And you just chained right in front of her, huh?
“What?” He sat back as if truly stumped, mind disjoined and rotating, trying to find the logic. The joke was on him; there was none. “Where did you even get that idea?”
“Stare,” Aria whispered under her breath, so quiet even she barely heard it as Copper practically mirrored her in the best tag-team ever, with the low rumble in his throat. At least, that was her interpretation.
“Mmrmm.”
“Okay, I’m going to get changed…my lady.”
Damon’s questioning smile cut through her spiral, looking much better than when she’d first seen him. Aria felt those smooth, peanut butter vibes returning.
Busted.
“Oh, I’m sure I am in that brain of yours. Nothing there but totally wholesome thoughts!”
Oh, the most innocent!
“I’m sure!”
He was still smiling, and that felt like a victory.
He stood, Copper immediately alert at his side.
“I’ll go up and activate the coffin. Be back down soon.”
That left her with her own anxiety pulsing up, though.
Please let this work. Please let the resurrection anchor be as simple as the system says. Please let nothing else go catastrophically wrong in the next five minutes. Wait right there, my little poo bear, she cooed at the cub, causing the adorable guy to freeze, half off his seat. We have some personal time to—oh, no.
And, as if Titania wanted to slap her in the face, just as Aria started to relax, movement caught her eye. A familiar figure emerged from the evening crowd, dark hair catching the lamplight, moving with that effortless, noble grace that probably came from years of etiquette training. She wanted to cry.
Count Aldrich Ravencrest.
Right on time.
Oh. Come on! You hate me, Titania!
Damon, she thought urgently, causing him to pause just before breaking away.
“Hmm?”
My, uh, my date just arrived, she winced.
Through their bond, she felt her brother’s attention snap back to the street, assessing the approaching noble with the same intensity he’d probably used to evaluate threats in the underground—no, worse than them. This was Defcon three.
Then, her brother smiled, looked down at her, and said…
“Be careful and have fun. He’s all yours. Use protection! Or should I say bring a ward in this world? Hmm…”
Wha—Damon! You did not just—h-huh?! HUH?!
“Joking. Seriously, though. Be careful. I love you.”
Love you, too?
He was gone, disappearing into the inn with Copper, leaving Aria alone with her bright smile and racing heart and the handsome Count who definitely had his own agenda.
Oh, I’m going to strangle you tonight. Use protection? No, don’t blush! Don’t look at him. AHHHH! I hate you, Damon! No, you are the tigress! You are the Master Commander! It’s time to prove I’m not just a disaster in a pretty dress. Mom… Help me. I’m going to need it.
Pressure collapsed on her shoulders in the absence of her big brother, and, for the first time, she found herself praying.
Please, Titania, let me not screw this up… For his sake.
Just fake it till you make it, right, Sophia?
Right. Still, I should have been able to at least kiss Copper’s nose for good luck…
Stupid brother. Wait, he didn’t tell me why he used my [Slow]. Damon! What are you hiding from me? I want to help. No! I guess I need to trust you, too…
I can do this! Yeah! You go, girl! Just…don’t look too long into his eyes.
The Count’s smile was warm as he approached, and Aria rose gracefully to greet him, every inch the mysterious sun elf princess she was pretending to be. The breathless crowd were practically comatose at this point as the nobleman met her.
“My lady, your gravity seems centered,” Aldrich said warmly, bowing just enough to make the crowd gasp. The weight in his words pressed heavier than his smile. “Shall we have an adventure? The castle awaits. Yet, first, we must visit the magistrate. Yes?”
“You are correct,” she said, the honey in her tone shocking even herself. For the first time, she felt like the role fit her skin; Damon trusted her. “The contract must be logged. Lead the way, Count Ravencrest.”
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Next PoV: Damon (Our Dhampir Fallen Prince!)
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