Rude awakening(Private w/ rodanuf)

Tim was sitting on a chair opposite to where his redheaded guildmate fell off her hospital bed. The fall sounded ugly, and the fact the girl responded with a growl and a rant in a language he didn’t understand a word out of just proved what the staff had told him. It wasn’t a well-kept secret between the researchers who witnessed her scuffle with the guild ace and the doctors who tended to her after the fact that the young lady had a personality problem. ‘Well deserved, if you ask me.’ Tim was told by one of them over a drink. ‘Nothing against the lass but if she’s planning on going anywhere but up in this guild? She needs a reality check before she takes another step.’

Tim, however, was slightly more concerned about something else.

How she got herself into the hospital room was slightly interesting. Apparently, she quite literally bit more than she could chew. She took a bite off a holy-slash-unholy dagger because she didn’t know consuming something like that would have adverse effects. Additionally, even before doing something like that she already had the reputation of both looking down on people and disregarding casualties all in the banner of being a ‘Dragon’ or some such. Tim never relied on rumors alone, but in all his years on the streets he never underestimated how close some would get to the truth. In this case, there was some truth to the stories. But from the way the redhead growled and spoke in her own tongue, there was a feint desperation to it. It was a vulnerability Tim knew first hand.

The reason he was visiting her was because of two things: the first reason, he had been exposed from his years in the workhouses an unspoken tradition of nipping things in the bud. Back in the Neutral Grounds’ workhouses if someone’s a little slower finishing their workload, purposefully not doing their job or just having some signs of being sick? The moment they step off their shift he and the other kids would badger the person in question. Then and there they’ll get the reason and make sure something gets done to keep them from lowering their collective performance, anything to keep themselves in the workhouse and not out the actual streets. Tim had kept this tradition all his life and there no reason to stop now.

Tim’s second reason was because of Reina’s insistence of calling herself a dragon. As far as Tim had read, dragons weren’t any smaller than a house. Also, her behavior was eerily similar to how his father was before his life went off the deep end, along with Tim’s. He might be wrong, of course. But while they were officially on the same guild, Tim wasn’t going take that chance. Before her little imagination escalates into complete delusion, Tim needed to bring her back to reality.

I’m getting ahead of myself. First thing’s first— Shaking his thoughts away, Tim used his Grav-à-tête spell to help his guildmate back to her bed by levitating her off the ground. While she was slowly hovering back into the comfy hospital bed, Tim stood up from his seat. He dusted Servant off any crease that might have formed and picked up the steel tray with precise control despite the thing holding a full coffee set and a Cloche-closed metal plate containing her meal. Tim debated whether or not he should come armored but after remembering her track record decided to wear his black and white cat-person themed armor, complete with the cat-ear accessory.

“Good Day, or Morning— in your case, young lady.” Tim took a step forward and stood straight, tray held low with one hand. He gave his most disarming smile as he greeted his guildmate. “Lunch?”

“Darksteels…” Tim parroted the redhead.

The name didn’t ring any bells for the young man, but what did stand out to him was her saying the metal protrusions were ‘authentic’ dragon scales. Tim had never encountered a dragon in his life, let alone judge if what she was saying had any ounce of truth to it. But her reaction, the way she raised her arm and showed off her scales made Tim uneasy. She even wondered about gaining wings, something Tim raised a brow at.

But before he could ask her to elaborate, the redhead began eating.

Given her circumstance, getting beaten up and hospitalized for a good amount of time she had quite the appetite. And considering Tim prepared the food, he shouldn’t be surprised if she had been able to finish her entire meal; he laid the portions enough for her to finish without feeling bloated, after all. But her eating the silver tray? What’s more, washing it all down with the coffee like it was as good as the food Tim prepared?

Tim was looking at her, dumbfounded. His mouth slightly agape, saying “Sure, I’ll take that into account next time.” when she complained about the quality of the metal ‘blend’, whatever that meant.

She did allow him to ‘feel’ her limb again, but not before asking for his name.

Tim was completely staring at the iron limb. He gave a short, “It’s Tim. Just Tim…” Before looking over her arm again, holding it by the elbow and wrist as gently as he could.

“A ‘dragon’ curse…” He muttered. Her little attitude made some sense now. From the way she just ‘ate’ metal like food to the way her scales manifested… Tim, having a lineage cursed by a deity as well, had not encountered someone in a similar situation outside his family. But if Tim’s cursed inklike skin had been metallic in nature, this would have been an eerie representation. Tim could only imagine what childhood the poor kid might have gone through. But to just carry this like a badge of honor is a very dangerous way of going about things. Tim should know, his father had been in a similar way.

“It’s a very similar taint to ours…” Tim muttered to himself. “It’s just manifesting in a distinct way.”

Tim, already his prime, was too late to get his curse removed. For a lack of a better term, his curse was already ‘ripe’. And while Tim had spent his months since becoming a member of Silver Wolf trying to get as many of his fellow curse-bearers cured. A longing for being cured as well, was something he could never let go—

Tim then recalled how the redhead reacted to seeing her scales earlier.

“This hasn’t happened to you up until know, has it?! This curse, how have you been able to control it...?”

Tim looked directly at her crimson eyes, not even thinking how he hasn’t let her answer yet before giving another question. There was a desperation in Tim’s voice he half-hoped his guildmate would not pick up on. But there was no going back now.

The way Darksteel carried herself as Tim went off in his little world spoke pride, and Tim didn’t even realize till it was too late. His guildmate yanked her arm off his grasp, it looked like it hurt more for her. Tim put his arms between him and her, palms out.

“Miss Darksteel, I…” Tim didn’t even get a chance to say anything edgewise before she went off.

The girl went into a sermon about a dragon’s power. Her eyes never left his as she roared her heart out from Tim’s apparent insult to her status as a dragon. She mentioned something about her father, about how he made sure she had complete control of her power. She talked about how Tim could have possible called it a curse. She talked about it being conceivable how having such a blessing would be called undesirable. She then resorted to name calling.

Tim, apparently, was shallow-minded.

Tim, apparently, enjoy wading his easily broken and wounded flesh in a pool of muck and filth called mortality.

Tim, apparently, was a maggot.

Tim was also a fool, to boot.

With a last roar the ‘dragon’ lunged at Tim! The young man’s freshly cooked food and well-prepared utensils came flying as she launched in a rage.

The midday sun’s light bounced around the white room and, letting out a disappointed breath, Tim summoned his bastardized domain. He allowed his injured guildmate pass through him as if he was nothing but a ray of light. But before she would injure herself even more, Tim materialized his hand the last second, touching her leg and levitated her again. This time, Tim didn’t let her float back to bed. With the mess she made, some of the shards might have landed in there.

He looked at her, his brow arched up, biting his lip as he shook head disapprovingly. “I thought you’d be better than this.”

He wanted to say he wasn’t angry at her, but he’d be lying.

He knew she would try and say something back or, at least, spit out an insult so he shushed her mouth with his finger. Erebus’ curse crawled out of his hand. The tar-like substance dripped down, only dissolving when the sun’s light overwhelmed it.

“Please let me finish.”

Tim frowned.

“I’ve never met one.” He began. “A dragon, I mean.”

He let go of his guildmate, letting her float safely. “But I’ve had my fair share of butting heads with gods and the like.”

“Gods are completely full of themselves, you know that? You’re just a kid flapping her figurative wings around, saying ‘dragons are the best, I’m on of them!’ so I thought you’ll do fine. Just a little hammering around that attitude and we’ll have a decent person on our hands.”

Tim paced around the room.


“But them?” He looked out the window. “These bastards are the peak of being megalomaniacs. The worst part? They actually have the magic to back it up!”

Tim clenched his hand, the tar squishing, crawling over his arm up into his neck. “They burn civilizations to the ground because they feel like it. They whisper sweet nothings and make people into husks to their whims. Empty promises are their drug, and somehow, I’ve seen time and time again how they rope mortals into their mess. And then there’s monsters like us, ‘graced’ with their taint from the moment we are born.”

“Like I said, I’ve never met a dragon.” Tim walked back to his guildmate. “But if your only take away from being with them are ‘we are the best to offer in existence’, how are you any different than an egotistical deity?”

He kept his eyes locked with hers.

“And I do mean what I say when I want you to be better.” Tim’s face felt hot. “Call yourself a dragon, for all I care. Grow wings and soar through the skies all you like; I wouldn’t mind doing that myself. But why come in with such arrogance? Why the superiority? I’ve seen people do more good than any god. I’ve seen more compassion in the company of faeries and wolves than deities— You know what’s more impressive, more powerful, than seeing a dragon that can shake mountains? Seeing a dragon who everyone knew could do that, but doesn’t.”

He was seeing red.

“I’ve yet to see a powerful god.” Tim let out a dry laugh. “And from what I’ve heard about dragons, they’re on the same pathetic boat.”

Tim blinked, finally realizing how far his curse had manifested. The young man took a step back and lit his cursed arm and face with his magic’s purple light! He seared the curse off his body, the way the tar-like substance burned made Tim wince. Between breaths Tim muttered to himself. “…too close…”

The young man closed his eyes and sighed again. “Damn it.”

He let her levitate beside the bed. “I’ll have someone clean that up. I’ll bring your armor up. If you can move that well, I won’t stop you from getting out. Till then, behave.”

Tim walked out of the room, but said one last thing over the doorframe.

“You’re a powerful dragon, right? Well, I don’t think you are if you have that empty pride crawling over your head. Prove me wrong.”

He walked out echoing ‘Nurse!’ over the hall way.

Tim was by the wall beside the door of Reina’s room.

The man was leaning, brows furrowed, while he waited for the staff to come around. It has been a while since Tim outright blew up on someone’s face. And from the way the redhead’s room was completely silent after he left, Tim knew she took his entire spiel to heart. Tim didn’t like playing the stern councilor, but his anger had gotten the better of him. He just hoped she took the better lessons from his outburst.

The staff who arrived was apparently talking to their Ace, not that Tim wanted to deal with both her and the kid.

The staff went off, talking about having been busy from an incident in the mess hall. There were a million things Tim wanted to rebuke to that, one primarily being why would an infirmary staff get called by the kitchen. But he’d let it slide; one outburst a day keeps the migraine away. “It’s fine. Her bed’s a mess though—”

The nurse went past him, talking all the while. But when he entered the doorway he froze, started panicking, completely ignoring Tim beside him. He walked towards the front desk, deadest on ‘finding his patient’. The only instruction Tim was given by the man was to break a lacrima by her desk should he not return after a few minutes. Tim peeked inside and indeed found nobody inside. But the fact a pillow was floating daintily over the exact spot Tim left Reina floating, and the fact a magic signature was on that spot, as well.

“She right here.” Tim looked back to the nurse. “Would you mind getting her armor instead? Oh, he’s gone.”

With a sigh, Tim walked back inside. From the looks of things, he should finish what he started. Tim had already cleaved through her. Her little attempt at hiding was either fear or the general feeling of wanting to be left alone. Tim wasn’t foreign to the feeling, the strength of trying to find answers for yourself. But there was also strength in another person’s advice, and support. It was a sappy thought, borderline cheesy. But Tim knew its importance to people.

“Shapeshifting’s one thing I don’t expect dragons to have.” He smiled thinly, trying to gauge her.

She asked to be let down. Tim obliged.

The redhead had just been beaten in a fight, now it looked like Tim’s verbal beating took some toll on her. Sitting by the nearest chair, she looked completely more contemplative. She admitted she would have thought the same thing about dragons had the redhead saw her own display as one’s only experience to the scaled creatures. Suddenly, she growled in a language Tim didn’t know. But there was a hint of pain in her words, even if he didn’t understand a word she said.

“I don’t understand dragon tongue.” Tim assumed what that language was. “But if you can keep talking in Ishgar, I can listen to you ramble all day.”

Tim leaned closer. “How about you tell me about the dragon you know? You seem like you have someone that fits the bill; that someone you look up to. If you can tell me how amazing dragons can really be without trying to punch me, it can actually be a story you can tell to anyone, right? How about it, Miss Pillow Dragon?”

Tim, for once, smiled genuinely at his guildmate.

There was an old book Tim read when he would laze around either Edna’s or Dr. Schwartz’s personal libraries. The two were very fond of books, to put it lightly. Between the two of them, they each had a small inside the company’s main warehouse, another one they merged together within the Schwartz Yard, the company court dwellings where employees were housed to keep transport easy and cheap, and lastly the two largest libraries they made in their respective homes. Tim had the pleasure of being able to access all of it, Dr. Schwartz’s collection especially, which delved more into random documentations about foreign yet unconventional topics—

Tim was getting sidetracked.

The aforementioned book was recording topics dated, as claimed by its own texts, ‘centuries ago.’ These dates and events should be even older than its claims considering the book’s texts were already three hundred years old, only republished officially fifty years ago! One of this book’s topics was about the cultural trade between Midi, Sin and Enca. Enca’s archipelagic nature was made up of many tribalistic kingdoms before its unification which led to a group of Sinnites meeting a ship of Midi tradesmen stationed in one of Enca’s many port villages. The Midians were known for their poor metal trade at that time period. Having produced so much high-quality metals despite their reputation earned the respect of the Sinnians who traded with them on occasion. These Midians were nicknamed ‘Chalybes’ by the Sin tradesmen as trading between these groups flourished. Though, this nickname would be then lost to many modern languages. The ancient Sinnian word, however, would later be transliterated and used in the modern Bellian language.

Translated to Ishgar, it literally means ‘Steel’.

Of course, when Tim’s guildmate mentioned the word ‘Chalybes’ she wasn’t talking about history. She was talking about a dragon. Her father, apparently.

Tim, of course, was halfheartedly listening to her ramblings. Tim wanted to know how she ticks, which he hoped would lead to him improving his ability to keep the redhead from exploding unnecessarily. Him doing his job wholeheartedly yet listening in halfheartedly, however, was because Reina kept droning on about how his dragon-father was powerful, how he would often fight with other dragons, and other completely irrelevant information. Personally, though, Tim would admit listening about powerful monsters fighting against each other were the least interesting parts to him in a story. Even as Tim read the stories the other kids in the workhouse would steal from the library, he would get complaints from them how he would practically skip the action.

Reina then talked about living with his father beyond the fighting.

How he would carve through mountains to find the ore to feed her. Yes, that was some mean feat of strength. But Tim was more interested in how the redhead was looking at the rays of light from the window, how she had slowly become more and more nostalgic—almost yearning. Tim didn’t even notice his body loosen, slowly sitting straight with his arms crossed in complete attention towards his guildmate. Reina talked about her father teaching her about people, despite him not personally going out his way to see how close his inferences actually were. This piece of information taught Tim more about her and her father infinitely more than the stories she told about fighting another red dragon who Tim could already tell was just as daft as any streetwise thug. Reina’s stories about her childhood led her to talking about how the dragon got mad at ger once for badgering him about mathematics.

Tim actually huffed out a laugh at that, Reina’s father sounded more and more like one of Tim’s co-workers. A particularly rough-cut old man whom Tim owed his life to. “I wouldn’t mind having a drink with this guy if he ever comes to visit you, kid.”

Her reminiscence about her childhood then led her into remembering his father talking to a deity called Koraav. She wondered why Tim gave her the picture of an ‘ugly’ God, when it was completely dissonant to her experiences. Tim gave another laugh when she said ‘they sound like they should be beneath him.’

“Beneath, huh. Trust me when I say I’ve heard those words from a god or two before.” Tim shrugged. “And, yes, I did say ‘or two’.”

Tim scratched his chin.

“They have temples and such you can look up in the Lacrima-net so I’m pretty sure they’re Gods and not just some copycats, though I wish some of them were. See, two of these Gods tried to kill me on separate occasions, one of the two who tried to kill me went out of their way to talk to me normally later though. But, honestly, it’s pretty hard to make up with someone who tried to kill me. But then again, I’ve done a guild job asked by another God. And—oh! The last two deities I failed to mention were just plain annoyances, and… I just gone and confused you, didn’t I?” Tim pinched the bridge of his nose. “To summarize: I can safely say I’ve interacted with…uh, about five. Two have been helpful, two actively tried to kill me and not said sorry about it, and the last one just whispers sweet nothings over my ear whenever I least expect it.”

He sighed. “I’ve never met this Koraav, though. Can’t judge the guy yet, considering the only info I have going for me is his meetings with your father. That sort of social call doesn’t really make you lean to one way or another, doesn’t it? He could be running a whole cult behind the scenes for all we know! And in the same vein, he might instead be running a no-rent flea market stalls racket to help the little guy or have a dozen charities under his belt.”

Tim looked at his guildmate. “I gotta ask. I can understand the value of being able to protect yourself or anyone you need to…but does ever person you meet really have to be either beneath you or above you?”

Tim once read a book that housed a collection of stories written by a Ca-Elumian named Kipling that recorded his journey in the wide borderlands between old Desierto and ancient Bellum. He never really delved through whether or not the stories were real accounts or not, Tim only read his works together with the children in the workhouses. He liked how the characters, despite being literal animals, felt like they had more humanity to them than the adults he encountered at the time. But the stories’ lesson, whatever it left to the reader at the end on each one, was always from a broader stroke—a general idea Tim took to heart yet never truly understood at the time. It was the mindset that let him survive even in the cruelest of winters.

“The law of the jungle.” Tim muttered after his guildmate spoke about nature and the dominance hierarchy that comes with it. “You really remind me of the boy in a book I read as a kid. He was raised by wolves his whole life and grew up with that law by heart. He was called the Man-Cub: a man, yet raised as a cub by the pack.”

“I lived in the city most of my life…The Neutral Grounds, it’s a place where wizardry in all forms doesn’t work. It was more mechanical than magical, a place that also has its own set of dominance hierarchy.” He scratched his chin. “You could call it a concrete jungle, in a sense. People, big and small. Powerful and weak. In all shape and sizes. In that city, I lived just as weak as the rats and dogs that infested it.”

“I lived that sort of life you described too: defending and finding warmth. I was better than the others, so I get to survive one day at a time.” Tim, half lidded eyes, sighed. “You survive, yes. But you don’t get to live.”

“I’m not asking you to abandon that thinking.” Tim smiled. “But being guildmates, we’re like a pack now. You don’t have to literally hunt for food or anything, but all I’m asking is for you to see the opportunity of seeing things more. There is more than one side of nature, after all.”

“Even the creatures that’s the namesake of our guild knows this.” Tim waved a finger. “After a hunt, the alpha wolf doesn’t always eat first, did you know that? They know as a pack that the hungriest wolf should eat their fill first, and in turn that wolf can contribute to future hunts rather than starve and weaken the pack as a whole. Hell, they even let the pups eat too before the other adults gorge in.”

“I don’t think I have enough wisdom to speak for anyone but I’d like to think our Ace gave you a chance to prove you have more than just empty fumes—as twisted her methods might have been.”

“Responsibility is a part of nature, just as much as survival is.” There really was more to it than just semantics, but judging from the way his guildmate interpreted his earlier words, the simpler he needs to approach things with her the better. “How about it?”