» Two months later
Zeri's shin slammed into Callian's armoured one. The fabric of her trousers did nothing to lessen the heaviness of the impact—nor the wave of pain it sent ricocheting through her leg.
A few months ago, that level of hurt might've ended up grounding her. Now she didn't even wince. She could treat it later anyway.
Deftly, she dodged the incoming slash that he'd aimed toward her neck.
The strike was overly wide—something she noticed almost immediately. If it came from anyone else, it might've screamed overconfidence or inexperience.
Coming from Callian though, she knew it was choreographed. Either way, she also knew she was meant to take advantage of it.
In one movement, she stepped forward past his exposed guard and guided his knife-wielding hand further along its sweeping trajectory away from her.
She followed up with a sharp, cruel punch that was primed directly for his unguarded throat.
Callian's other hand darted upward immediately and caught it with ease, utilising an inhumane level of speed that she knew by now signalled the end of a spar.
For a split second, electricity strayed from her fist, dancing forward across his armoured fingertips. Under her rapt attention, however, it quickly fell back under her control, slinking backwards into her whitened knuckles.
As they stepped apart, her power faded completely.
As if spurred on by the sudden darkness, Zeri's focus quickly drifted away from her win.
Well—that was if you could even call it a win. It was more comparable to a pass than anything else.
Callian had said that while fighting—the two of them moved at a pace normal humans could never hope to match. Meaning she wasn't really sure why he was even bothering to teach her hand-to-hand combat at all.
If other people—like he'd said—couldn't even hope to keep up with her, was there any real point in learning to defend?
He'd also said that her electricity wasn't normal. Big surprise.
Apart from the obvious colour change, it also had that strange, unusual secondary effect. Acceleration.
It had started weak—so weak that in the beginning, she hadn't even noticed it at all.
That had begun to change pretty rapidly once she had it activated during her every waking moment, though. After being placed under that much strain—its growth just didn't stop.
Callian had said it had been the same for him too. All it took for his aspect to flourish was that first, crucial step forward.
In any case, back when she'd been unaware as to the true depth of her power, she'd begun to notice the sound of her watch slowing down.
It was strange—the way its hands didn't tick quite as sharply as they used to. Seconds—according to it—didn't feel like seconds anymore. Almost like its inner workings had been dulled, somehow.
She'd thought it was malfunctioning at first—and had hesitated to mention it to Callian at all.
If she'd broken it herself… well. Back then she didn't even want to think about making that kind of blunder.
Now though, she knew differently. Mistakes were okay to make—just once. Repeating them was where you went wrong. She'd learned that now.
Finally, after a few nerve-wracking days, she realised she'd been wrong all along.
The watch wasn't slowing down at all. No. She was the one speeding up.
And—while initially exciting—she'd gradually learned that her budding abilities were more of a curse than a blessing.
Nowadays her acceleration had grown so strong that she rarely even used her aspect at all anymore.
Even now after months of practice, she couldn't manage to separate its duo of effects. The results were as clear as they were disheartening.
Her electricity and acceleration were completely indivisible. Meaning that she was forced to live in the darkness of the Eastside manor, blind.
If she didn't, she'd be prolonging her every waking moment to an unbearable degree.
Every second she spent living in the light her power cast was multiplied into what felt like an eternity.
Deep down, she knew she wouldn't be able to live through that maddened solitude for long. After all—she'd already tried.
The loneliness she felt when Callian departed during the day was already teetering over that precarious border of despair. Extending that time by any kind of amount might as well be torture.
If the man hadn't been thoughtful enough to give her that watch, then… well. It made her glad Callian stayed more often now. She owed him for it. Owed him a lot.
"Zeri," Callian spoke, breaking the girl from her reflection. "Would you like to accompany me back into the Undercity?"
His words made her mind blank. Just… blank.
For a moment, she just stared at him.
"W-what?" she stuttered, her fingers twitching with the beginnings of a shudder.
Callian stepped forward softly.
"You are ready," he affirmed, his eyes meeting with her own, trembling gaze. "Nobody there will be able to touch you now."
Zeri felt a lance of fear pierce her heart. Or maybe it was composed of her shock.
Either way, it felt horrible—and she didn't know why it was there.
But she did know that he was being honest with her. He always was. There was no deception hidden behind his calm, violet gaze.
"I…" she started, faltering as her eyes darted away from his own. "I don't… know."
Admitting that truth aloud sounded awkward—even to her. Especially to her.
Why did she feel so confused? Why wasn't she happy at his offer? She'd been working toward this for months now. It was the whole point. The reason that stood behind everything she'd gone through so far.
She heard Callian sigh quietly—the noise prompting her heart to flutter with a wild, agitated unease.
Great. Now she felt even worse.
"Alright," the man acknowledged, raising a hand and pressing it against her cheek.
His touch felt gentle. It conveyed the understanding that he didn't let show—that he never let show. She knew that.
She leaned into his palm, her tentative eyes sliding back toward his own.
"Tell me when you feel you are ready to return," he murmured, stroking her cheek with his thumb. "That offer will always stand from now on. You are ready for it."
"Okay," she whispered, shivering in a muddied regret as his hand pulled away from her icy skin.
Then he turned away from her, momentarily vanishing into the blackness of the shadowed room.
His dull eyes reappeared quickly, however, as he lowered himself into an armchair that Zeri knew lay a few paces away from her.
His gaze seemed almost unfocused now. As if he were preoccupied with something else. Maybe a thought.
It was a common sight. One that she had grown to recognise.
"Cal?" she probed uncertainly, nudging him to refocus in her direction. "Can I… Can I sit with you again?"
After a second's pause that was coupled with another one of his even stares—he nodded.
She began to inch toward him timidly, her unseeing eyes hitting the carpeted floorboards she knew lay beneath her.
When she did eventually reach where the seat was, she hesitated—her fingers grasping into weak fists. Then, slowly, she crawled her way onto it.
A familiar shame began to burn within her chest. It was an uncomfortable feeling.
The armchair was spacious enough for the both of them—large enough that she didn't have to sit atop him to fit.
Still, she chose to pull up her knees and bend them across his own, tilting her side against him softly.
It was closer than she had to be. But just as much as she needed.
She pushed past her shame and lowered her head toward him, resting it onto the top of his jacketed shoulder.
His casual-wear felt soft—and far more comforting than his coat had been.
She closed her eyes, burying her face into his exposed neck.
Her embarrassment began to dull as she lay against him. The security his presence offered her just felt… right.
It was funny.
Her mother had sat with her like this when she was little. Always managing to soothe her childish distress using only the comfort of her embrace.
Life had felt so simple back then.
She felt that same, twisting shame bloom into being once more. Her skin began to burn with her discomfort.
She swallowed hard.
It was a wretched, twisted parallel to make. One that she couldn't bring herself to forget.
Instead, she buried as deep as she could manage. Acknowledging that what she might be doing was wrong terrified her. She knew why, too.
It was because she'd been the one to ask for this kind of thing in the first place—weeks and weeks ago.
It wasn't a suggestion he'd made for her—or even hinted toward. She'd been the one who chose to act this way. Her despair had caused that need for closeness.
It was her own decision. It couldn't have been him.
No. Enough was enough.
She pulled herself away from her darkening thoughts—away from the scariness of other, possible realities.
Her reality was the right one.
He had helped her—and was helping her still. That was her truth.
If she strained really, really hard—she could hear how his heart beat within his chest.
It was slow—far, far slower than hers. Maybe even unnaturally so.
Its unique heaviness helped her forget her worries. She just sat there in silence, losing herself in its steady, drumming rhythm.
This was all she needed now.
She was safe here. She was okay.
Her fingers curled into the front of Callian's jacket.
After that, she fell asleep quickly—secure within his patiently waiting arms.
✦ ✦ ✦
» Five days later
Zeri trailed behind Callian as he led her through Eastside's winding, lightless caverns.
Five days. It had taken five whole days for her to prepare for this.
The first two had been spent searching for the courage to leave with him. Even thinking back to her momentary indecision made the girl want to flush with shame.
The other three were slightly disappointing—she had to wait for him to source her some new clothes to wear.
It was something she grudgingly admitted that she needed—inwardly. Outwardly she'd agreed on the spot.
But, the wait had been worth it. She knew that now.
Her clothes felt comfortable, tight, and soft too. Far better than the scratchy, ill-fitting rags her mother had her wear, way back when.
Even her new boots had amazed her in the moment.
Snug. So perfect that they must've been tailor-made. How he'd known her measurements though, she hadn't a clue. To be honest, she didn't really care, either.
All of his gifts felt targeted—feeling too good or useful to be true. But, she wasn't surprised by that feeling now. Callian knew things. That was just the way it was.
Suddenly, something ahead of them caught her eye, drawing her back to the present.
It was light. Earthy, glowing light.
The first streetlamps had come into view.
The sight of the well-lit road beneath them made her fingers start to tremble. With what exactly, she wasn't really sure.
Either way, those streetlamps were the first real source of light she'd seen in months. Months. It was a wonder she wasn't squinting at the sight of them.
The two crossed over the district's threshold, taking their first steps back into Zaun's inhabited underground.
Zeri's boots hit the street's illuminated cobble.
She could see everything around her now. Everything.
Her thoughts began to race, running wild on her exposure toward the tantalising promise of freedom. Toward the ability to make her own decisions again.
If she wanted to—she could run. Make a break for the ruined, broken alleyways of the Outskirts.
Callian was fast. Faster than anyone she'd ever seen.
But maybe—just maybe—she'd get away. Evade his weighted gaze and escape through the decrepit maze of Northside's dilapidated border.
Her grip around the man's hand tightened. Then after a moment, it slowly loosened again.
Her traitorous thoughts dulled as she began to question the meaning that stood behind them.
But… why? Why would she run? Why should she?
Despite his methods—questionable as they might seem—Callian had stayed true to his word. With everything.
Every promise. Every request she'd had, he'd answered fairly. Without any kind of judgment. No matter how strange or wrong it might have seemed.
She was strong now. Faster than she could have ever believed possible.
He'd clothed her. Fed her. Helped her. Nurtured her far more than her mother had ever managed to.
It hurt to admit, but it was true. She wouldn't deny it.
She was almost proud to be her now. She was good at something—no longer just a face in a crowd. No longer just another nobody who was fated to live off the scraps left behind by others' negligence or generosity.
If she wanted to—she could live. Alone. Standing on her own two feet.
And it was all thanks to him. Someone who might as well have been called her saviour.
Her saviour.
So as the two of them navigated their way through the border's primitive, winding streets, Zeri came to a decision. An important one.
She didn't try to run away. Didn't even consider it beyond her first, instinctual craving.
No. She decided to keep walking next to the man who'd supported her.
She chose to stay beside the man who'd helped build her up into the proud, competent someone she was today.
She admitted it now. Openly. As her mind drifted back toward that terrifying first night spent in his Eastside manor.
She didn't want to leave him anymore.
Even back then, maybe she never truly had.
As they walked hand-in-hand down that dirty, cobbled street, it dawned upon Zeri that her struggle was over.
Her mother was gone now. But, in the end, that was okay. People died—that was just the way it was.
But most importantly, she'd loved her. Cried for her. Grieved for her. Remembered her.
And, now, she'd found someone new.
Someone who could—who had—filled the void her death had left behind.
That hole in her heart was all but patched up now.
Because everything would be alright from now on.
She was safe. She was strong.
And, she was his.
✦ ✦ ✦
〘 A/N: The prelude is now officially over. Hope you enjoyed. 〙