CHAPTER NINETEEN

As the silver rays of the full moon seeped through the dense forest, casting an eerie glow over the serene campsite, Tatsuya slowly opened his eyes. Blinking away the remnants of a deep slumber, he was instantly met with a throbbing ache—and a familiar peppermint scent accompanying the reassuringly dull, somewhat warm, itchy sign of healing—emanating from his body, and it said a lot about his experiences and pain tolerance that he didn't react much, already used to waking up in pain.

Still, confusion swept over him as he tried to recall how he had come to be in such a condition.

He gingerly sat up with a low groan, his surroundings coming into focus, and he found himself in a small clearing surrounded by towering trees, their branches waving in the light breeze. Tents and camping gear were scattered about, indicating that he was part of an organised camp. But how had he ended up injured, and for how long had he remained unconscious?

Mustering a little frown, he rubbed his knuckles at his eyes. As he slowly craned his neck to inspect his surroundings, searching for clues to his predicament, his eyes fell upon his crumpled cloak and bo staff lying a few feet away. He mustered his strength and bones creaking, eased out of the bedroll, settled his bare—although newly bandaged, like the rest of his body— feet on the floor, and stood. Immediately, he realised belatedly that he shouldn't have stood up so quickly as his stomach turned inside out, and he felt a surge of dizziness so strong he almost sank back into unconsciousness.

It also sent him collapsing rather roughly to his knees, and all he could do, as he panted, was to close his eyes and wait for things to stop spinning or at least slow down a bit. Farah’s voice appeared, and though she sounded too loud and her concern a tad frustrating, he was no less thankful for her presence; she provided a semblance of focus amid the chaos.

Zoel’s voice joined shortly after, and though it was different than what he was used to—carrying a faint trace of something particularly dull—he bit his lips as a flood of memories rushed back. Panic surged within him—was she (or her seal) here to finish him off?—but he fought to maintain a controlled facade, refusing to show any signs of vulnerability and forcing himself to try and focus on their words. However, everything seemed sort of dull and far away from both his sight and hearing. He could not make heads or tails of where he was going, barely aware of the arms that helped him to his feet and guided him.

When he realised he was seated beside Zoel, he stifled the urge to slump down on her shoulder face-first, fully clothed, and fall asleep. It was honestly one of the most difficult things he had ever done in his life, but, thankfully, the dizziness soon subsided, and with it, the urge too.

His vision sharpened in clarity as a wooden cup was pressed into his palm, the fire elemental leaning over to guide it to his lips. He rolled his eyes but didn't resist, and once the cool water flowed down his throat, he grasped her hand and began to drink greedily, moaning slightly in protest when she pulled away.

“That’s enough for now,” she said, and even though he wasn't satisfied with the amount he had, he silently acquiesced, more concerned with the attention he had drawn from the other members of the Wind Blades. Were the stares as a result of his abrupt appearance, in and of itself, or did it interrupt an important conversation they didn't want him part of?

The crackling campfire revealed no answers to him. Rather, it sent tendrils of warmth and light into the brisk night air, casting flickering shadows across the faces of the group gathered around it. They sat on logs and makeshift stools, their faces illuminated by the dancing flames, and noticing their expressions (varying from amusement to mock derision), embarrassment threatened to well up within him—but he refused to show any sign of that; he was far too experienced in situations like this and knew how to maintain his mental focus and acuity.

Instead, he settled his gaze on a specific individual, or rather the spirit-damned thing on Zoel's lap, because no mere animal should ever be able to control any elements.

“I see you have become well acquainted with Ava,” Rei said, cutting into the silence with his deep voice. There was a faint hint of mischief in it.

“It's for the best, really,” Jao said, his tone contrasting that of the water elemental. “At this point, you are a fully recognized member of the group, so it was only a matter of time before you became privy to Zoel’s secret.”

Leia—who had sat between the two men—simply laughed, an eed the leader continued, though not before sending her a sharp, admonishing look.

“She’s rather protective of her… friend and had overreacted. I hope it doesn't affect the way you interact with them.”

Tatsuya had not shifted his gaze away from Zoel, and eventually, under the shadow of the large hat she wore and in the ensuing silence—the weight of her companion’s actions and the unspoken apology heavy in the air—their eyes met. And at that moment, he could see that her countenance bore the marks of sorrow and regret.

It made him hesitate, suddenly and utterly at a loss for what to say. Uncomfortable, really. So, in place of words, he cleared his throat, and—trying to examine the situation as clinically as he could manage, even though he could barely bring himself to meet the woman's eyes—he noticed that her normally calm and level-headed eyes were dulled, casting a shadow of contrition upon her visage, and the lines on her forehead (once creased with certainty) now etched a story of remorse and self- reflection.

Even the so-called Ava mirrored her expression with a precision that, frankly, worried him. What sort of creature was the seal? Surely not a normal one, and he doubted it was a familiar, either. Only sorcerers had those and, by nature’s law, were exempt from the spirit’s blessings. They could not bend the elements; instead, given sufficient time, will, and energy, they could bend the very laws of reality to do their bidding.

So, what was Ava then?

The only feasible answer he could come up with was that the seal was in some way related to Zoel’s speciality, like an embodiment of it since she—it? They?—could also control vines.

Was that why Zoel was so strong, then, because she could effectively bring in twice the attacks into play?

Said vine elemental bowed her head and broke the silence, her voice filled with sincerity. “I apologise on behalf of Ava since she can't verbally express her remorse and, on some level, I'm at fault. If I had not been arrogant, I wouldn't have been caught unaware, and she wouldn't have had any reason to cause you undue harm.”

Honestly speaking, he had no reason not to accept the apology. As Jao had said, Ava had obviously overreacted—it was possible he would have done the same had it been him in that situation— and though he hardly knew Zoel, the apology had seemed heartfelt.

However, he couldn't just easily accept it. A murder attempt was still a murder attempt, regardless of intent, and well, the line of questions had left him more than a little intrigued. He wanted to know Ava’s origin and figured that not-so-little knowledge was an equivalent enough exchange in his book. It wasn't really his business, but the secret had injured him, effectively hampering his training for the meantime and affecting his goal—which, in actuality, made it somewhat of his business.

Maybe it was hypocritical, the mental gymnastics he went through to justify giving in to his curiosity when he really didn't have to—not to mention he would be pressuring someone to open up and divulge a likely vulnerability when he wasn't willing to, not even to someone he harboured feelings for—but when had he ever claimed otherwise?