80 | reader; king of hearts

They appeared again on the bone carved streets, the moon still ominously hanging high above with promises of more sinister nights.

Elias dropped to his knees, carefully placing Lucas' festering body on the ground as Nora and Kane hurried to their side, worry written over in different forms.

Nora's was a great concern for a friend's injury, and Kane's of a devastation so great it couldn't be formed with mere words. Elias had glanced up, studying the differences in their grief as Lucas would do, before focusing his attention back on the collapsed man.

"You promised—you said there was a way—there must be a way—" rambled Kane in a flurry of speech, mixed with anger, regret and guilt.

He hadn't expected Lucas' state to be so terrible; that the sun in that Story would burn so deadly and vicious. It should've been him, at least, to bear the weight of the agony. His brother had already seen too many sorrows, felt too much agony.

Elias had procured a vial of red liquid out of thin air, lifting Lucas' head to spill the liquid into his throat.

Before Kane could question, he said coldly, "I'll only answer questions to the man in my hands, or if I feel like it. Don't bother asking."

"I'm supposed to trust you with his life?"

"I don't want you to trust me. You should know that you have no other options."

Ignoring any other protests, Elias turned and was deaf to everything else. His business wasn't satisfying or appeasing the other two's worries, but solely in saving Lucas.

He wanted to heal the surface injuries first before carrying Lucas indoors, to the safety of the carved houses. Remaining outside wasn't entirely perilous—Elias was in no mood to toy with any attackers—but it would be safer for Lucas inside.

And he supposed, safer for Nora and Kane, who Lucas sought to protect.

Elias was bitter to have succumbed to worrying about others, just to seduce the stubborn sponge that had a hobby of risking his life. He sighed, lamenting about his poor taste in men as he checked on the potion's effects.

A heavy clunk of metal came from the distance, and both Kane and Nora spun around, standing in front of Lucas' body protectively.

Two pairs of footsteps, one light and the other heavy.

Nora, however, widened her eyes in recognition.

A large man with a young face with lingerings of baby fat approached, covered in grime and coating of dried blood. He was muscular, with broad shoulders and wore a tattered varsity jacket and a contrasting expression of surprise.

His hair had grown longer since their last meeting, and his face narrower despite the remnants of roundness that had yet sharpen. It made him appear young and bright, the sort of person you'd trust your child with.

But there was a growing darkness in his distant gaze, one that hadn't existed previously. Despite that, he blinked rapidly and awkwardly waved.

"A-aren't you—"

"Julian." said Nora with a blink, her lips curling into a soft smile. She'd always held gentle feelings for the clumsy youth that they'd met, in the very beginnings of all the chaos. Then, her face fell. "What are you doing here?"

The youth that she'd known stammered when he got nervous, and hid behind others with a pale face scared of all things terrible. Wren had enjoyed teasing him to elicit amusing, innocent reactions.

Julian was a cowardly character, and Nora had never thought anything to be wrong with that. And even if she'd known that the apocalypse would carve his fears and remake him—this was Tartarus.

Tartarus, that had a murder requirement to enter.

She'd only killed that many because of Alastair's faceless puppets, the half-living and tragic souls that were better dead than alive. Though she still felt guilt for killing them, even if their lives would've just been another cycle of manipulation and experimentations.

Julian understood her question and flinched, gnawing his lip. "I-I'm sorry, it's good to see you, really, but I don't really want to talk about it."

A cloud darkened his gaze, and he suddenly appeared trapped in a horrible memory, sinking further into the murky depths of darkness.

Nora nodded with a smile. "Of course, that's fine."

A cloaked figure hovered behind, draped with a white cloth that hid their features. From their petite size, and a glimpse of light brown curls that poked out, Nora assumed them to be female.

"Is that your friend?"

"Oh! I've been escorting her from before we entered Tartarus. She's looking for somebody here, in America."

"Who?"

A weak voice spoke instead. "He doesn't know. I didn't tell him. And I won't—I'll know when I see them."

Nora wasn't bothered by the curtness and smiled. "I see. And what's your name?"

"Adelaide Walker. And yours?"

"Nora Nilsen."

Surprisingly, the hidden girl sounded soft and polite, losing the sharp edge she had earlier when questioned about the person she sought. However, considering the wide scope of 'somewhere in America' it was likely the girl didn't live here.

Judging by the subtle accent,

"Are you from England?" asked Kane, carefully slotting himself beside Nora. Even old friends couldn't be trusted in these treacherous lands.

The girl lifted her head curiously, and Nora saw the flash of sky-blue eyes. "I am. I thought I was proficient at hiding my accent."

"Accents aren't that easy to mask."

"That's unfortunate. I practiced a lot." Her voice sounded genuinely regretful, and Kane recognized the sort of playfulness that she tried to hide. The sort of inclination in teenagers.

"Is there a reason you choose to hide your appearance?"

"What?" Then she lifted her head as if just noticing the cloth that covered it. "No, not necessarily. I was cold, that's all. In all honesty, it does make it a little difficult to see."

Saying that, her pale and unblemished hands revealed themselves, tugging down the coat. Hands of somebody who'd lived a sheltered life, rarely touching chores.

Kane saw her youthful appearance, a gentle and elegant beauty with neat hazel curls that fell over her slender shoulders, and a dash of freckles across her nose. Everything about her screamed of a wealthy life, though her eyes sparkled with mischief.

She shrugged her shoulders, turning her head before her bright blue eyes widened, and she ran up to Kane.

The doctor stepped back in surprise, holding up his hands as if it could serve as a shield. The teenager stopped near him, straining her neck to squint.

"Might I know you from somewhere?"

Julian paled, the large man hurrying forth to gently pry her back. "Lai, he's in his late 20's. You're only 16."

"Tell me," prompted the girl insistently, "Do you like to write?"

Kane frowned, gazing at her calmly as the earlier surprise dispersed. It was a ridiculous scene, with his own brother's blistering body behind, standing on a street carved of bone and death.

Had he believed the girl's words to be teasing or flirtatious, highly possible in this crazed land, he would've turned away and refused to speak further.

But there was real recognition in the girl's stare, an honest question posed that contained nothing joking, or even a smile. She appeared deadly serious—unlikely attempting to make a move on him.

He shook his head. "I don't write, unless you consider medical reports."

"No, definitely not. I meant fantasy. Do you write fantasy novels?" She rubbed the spot between her eyebrows, spinning around as she begun to pace. "Ah, my memory has been failing me, even though I've read it a hundred times over..."

She continued muttering to herself, and Julian flashed an apologetic smile to Kane, while hovering around the teenager.

Since he'd taken to protect her in Tartarus, he was extremely careful about her well-being. It wasn't only bodies that could get damaged—minds were even more fragile. He'd already seen several go mad on the ground, writhing and trembling.

Julian, despairing on becoming a person he never aspired to be, had been in a terrible state when running into Adelaide. The polite but straightforward girl who asked him if he knew of an online writer.

She attempted to name the specific novel, but frowned and pressed her lips together in frustration upon realizing she'd forgotten.

At that time, the gates to Tartarus had beckoned them, and impulsively, and lured by the promises of strengths and truth, they'd entered. Adelaide reminded Julian of his younger cousins, two girls that were always free-spirited and good.

He wondered if they were still alive.

"Lai," he interrupted the girl's mumbling. "Do you, erm, where do you recognize this man here from? Do you suspect him to be the person you're looking for?"

"I thought of it, but it can't be. There's no possibility that the author I admire would hide away his skills and claim to only write medical reports—" She looked up with a smile. "Nothing wrong with doctors, by the way. I admire and respect you."

Kane raised his eyebrows. "Thank you?"

Elias, crouched beside Lucas' body with his coat pooling around him like a lake of dark misery, glanced sideways. He'd vaguely tuned into the conversation, though he was more focused on Lucas' recovery.

The blisters were popping and receding back into scarred skin, and burnt flesh begun to separate and shed like a second skin.

The vial was a life-saving potion, one that Elias was certain he would never come across again. Not in any life time of his, when it'd already taken several to obtain it.

"You're looking for a writer." mused Elias.

Adelaide spun around, her white cloak billowing around her. She saw the man crouched protectively over a charred body, the lines of his jaw sharp and tensed, while his eyes were reaped of any light and instead replaced with misfortunes and indifference.

Immediately, she understood and took a step back. The stranger with cerulean eyes was an outlier in the group of people.

The most dangerous person.

"I am." She said nevertheless, keeping her distance. "Do you know one?"

Elias gestured towards the body on the ground, watching for her every expression. "There's one before me—the most dashing of writers."

"I don't know, the writer I seek is the most charming person I know."

Elias looked amused at that, the corner of his lips twitching. "This writer chose that doctor as his muse for the protagonist."

Adelaide turned to Kane, understanding quickly spilling into her gaze. She gasped in what was either delight or shock, and darted to the body on the ground. Elias raised a hand, tilting his head.

"I don't advise you step too close."

"I don't bite."

"Oh, but I do." smiled the man nonchalantly. "My darling is in a rather fragile state, and should any harm come his way..."

Adelaide scoffed, crossing her arms. "You'll kill me? I'm more concerned of his well-being and his mental state, if he must endure a character as infuriating as you."

Elias didn't expect for a teenager to argue with him. "He's in love with me, sorry."

"Is that what he would confess? Or your means of coping while he's unconscious—to feed strangers lies because it won't be real when he wakes? Regardless, do as you please, but is he alive? If he really is the person I'm looking for..."

"I wouldn't know. Why should you trust the words of a liar?"

Adelaide stared at Elias with an air of frustration, while the other shrugged carelessly and returned his full attention to Lucas.

Kane was watching the girl with a heavy heart. A teenager that had killed ten people couldn't be simple. She didn't seem mad with an inclination for violence, and he assumed a polite girl like her wouldn't charge into the chaos with the intent to murder.

But in the end, here she was.

And how many other children were there, wandering the depths of Tartarus, branded sinners before their brains even fully developed?

Nora made conversation with Julian as he panicked, nervously eying Adelaide—attempting to send her a secret signal to not overstep her boundaries.

"I'm glad you've survived, Julian."

He spun, smiling. "I'm glad you're alive too! I was lucky, for the most part. I always ran into people that would help me, like when I ran into Sir—" he trailed off, finally noticing the body on the ground. "T-that! That's, oh my god, is he alive?"

Nora swallowed, guilt still brushing against her skin, fingers pressed firmly against her arm. "He is. He ended up in that state after risking his life to help us."

"Ah—I'm not blaming you! He's amazing, anyway, I'm sure he wouldn't die even if he were stabbed a dozen times! B-believe in him!" Julian cheered, though he didn't sound too sure himself.

Adelaide squinted at Julian, frowning. "Julian, what did I tell you about calling yourself lucky? You survived on your own abilities, didn't you?"

"Lai, you had to save me from—"

"And you protected me in the Stories too. It's a relationship of mutual benefit, not one-sided dependency."

"Yes, you're right... I'm sorry..."

"And no sorries! Say thank you next time, there's nothing to be sorry for." huffed the girl, puffing her chest with a scolding disposition. It made her small build seem taller, and Julian's towering height scrunched and small.

They made for an odd combination, with personalities that didn't suit their appearances, but they matched well. Nora was thankful that Julian found a companion he could trust, although she did wonder.

What sort of abilities did Adelaide possess if Julian held that much trust for her?

The girl noticed the gaze in moments—she recognized the thoughts behind stares, know how to read them as if they were written in air.

She learned to adapt to them, to use others thoughts to her own advantage.

The handsome man that stared with her with pity, believing her too young to have endured the trials of the apocalypse. It was a kind gaze, one that didn't underestimate, but instead seemed to scold the world for its cruelty.

Then there was the woman, with a familiar gaze to the man. But there was a swirl of admiration and respect—a rare reveal to Adelaide, who was often looked down upon.

Concluding that, there was the bitter man that reeked of cynicism and disdain towards reality, crouched down over likely the one thing keeping him here, in a crowd of people he had no interest in.

He looked with her with a gaze that told of nothingness, a vortex of indifference. To him, she was nothing more than another bother intruding his life.

Something that could disappear within moments, by a single mistake made.

It was a strange group of people, but pleasant. Adelaide decided that Julian had good taste in friends—excluding the blue-eyed man—and felt relieved. Julian was strong, physically, but weak mentally.

She determined to keep an eye on those approaching the pair, both seeming young and like easy targets.

But Julian was a dormant bear, sleeping peacefully until disturbed, and he had learned, forced to, how to kill to protect himself. She'd watch him curl up and cry after, sobbing about the blood on his hands that wouldn't wash out, even after he scrubbed them sore.

And she was a sheltered princess for most of her life, that learned murder before normality. This apocalypse was madness to others; but it was freedom to her.

Far away from the beautiful cage that had been her home, once.

Adelaide's eyes fluttered shut, eyelashes casting shadows over her sharp cheekbones. She smiled, firmly now, determining what sort of characters these people were.

"Allow me to re-introduce myself. My name is Adelaide Walker. However, I have also been named several things by the apocalypse." She stood straighter, clear blue eyes unblinking. "I'll omit the less important Titles."

"I am the Catalyst Slayer. And I am the King of Hearts."