Chapter 1: A Fisherman's Tale
Chapter Text
THE FALL OF SNEZHNAYA
PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING OF THE END
ACT I: A FISHERMAN’S TALE
Every day was the same.
Every day, his chores were the same. Not that he minded, he liked caring for his family. He enjoyed being able to help his family in any way he could. Collecting fallen branches for firewood, ice fishing with his father to feed the family, staying home to help watch over his younger siblings, and helping Mother with mending clothes, he didn’t mind. He never minded. He liked each chore.
Every day, the outside world was the same.
Mud. Rocks. Ice. Trees. The brilliant light of day. The soul-crushing darkness of night.
Every day, he opened his eyes to close them again. In the bright early hours of the day, he was forced to use his hand as a shield from the blinding orb in the sky and its reflection against the harsh whiteness of the ground.
And every day, he would cover his eyes with his pale hands and start his day again.
Every day, the cycle would repeat, and everything would be the same.
Mud. Rocks. Ice. Trees. And the brightness. Too bright.
Wake up, get dressed, breakfast with the family, walk the dog, collect firewood, help Father fish for lunch, eat lunch, help watch over his younger siblings as the oldest ones go to work, walk the dog again, play with his siblings, bathe, eat dinner, sleep. Again. Wake up, dress, breakfast, gather firewood, fish, have lunch, try to read a book, walk, play, bathe, eat, and sleep. Again. Again. Again. Again.
But today. Something was different today. The wind blew just a little bit stronger and a little bit warmer in the tundra of Snezhnaya. Perhaps Lord Barbatos was visiting the land of ice. Or perhaps the Lady Tsaritsa was showing her land a slight mercy for today alone. It was not a noticeable change for anyone. Any other sane person would’ve just gone about their day as usual. Yet somehow, Ajax noticed.
There they were again, just like yesterday, and just as it will be tomorrow. But Ajax did not mind, not one bit. Out of all his chores, he loved ice fishing with his father the most. Not because he loves fishing, no, no. He couldn't care less about the actual fishing part. He didn’t hate it, but he didn’t particularly enjoy having to bathe every day just to rid himself of the foul, fishy stench. Instead, he loves the stories his father would recite to him as they patiently sat, waiting for a fish to take the bait and become the family’s next meal.
These stories were not just another basic Snezhnaya fairy tale that a parent would tell their children to encourage good behavior. No, no. These stories are what got Ajax through each repetitive day. Each day would be a different story or a continuation of the story from the previous day. These stores, well, there weren’t just stories at all. They were epic tales of ordinary, everyday people doing the extraordinary… just for his ears. Stories of regular, simple men going on brave and dangerous adventures, only to come back home with valuable treasures and priceless stories to pass on to their children. To Ajax, these adventurers were heroes. And Ajax wanted to be just like them, a hero to his siblings, to his family.
Now his father was not an adventurer. His father was just an ordinary fisherman. So, how did his father come to have so many stories of them? Because it was just that. Stories. Just a way to pass the time. His father heard stories on the fishing ports as he traded for bigger fish or sold the day’s catch for Mora to provide for his family. Ajax’s father never thought to question whether the tales he heard were true or false. It didn’t matter if such stories were fact or fiction or perhaps a mix of both. Repeating such stories was just an easy way to entertain his children. But sometimes, when his father was feeling particularly inspired or when he struggled to remember certain parts of the story, he would make them up for his son.
And sometimes, he regrets telling his son such ridiculous tales.
It was these tales that inspired such a gentle child to let go of all his hesitation, all his fear, and have the goal of becoming a brave adventurer. It was this desire to become an adventurer that led him to steal his older brother’s freshly sharpened short sword, which was hidden in a long, worn-out red cloth over the blade, and tied to its aging wooden handle covered in shark skin for a better and lasting grip. It wouldn’t have led him to take that bag of soft, fresh bread and run out the door, unnoticed, just after dinner as everyone prepared for bed.
Ajax ran. He ran away from them, from that monotonous cycle of life. From his timid self. He was tired of being so timid. So frightened. So hesitant. So… obedient. He ran, snow and ice alike crunching beneath his heavy boots, the sound of his erratic breathing, the feeling of the sheathed sword thumping against his knee, his gloved hands turning red from gripping his bag of bread so tightly. He ran, but the wind from earlier did not help him feel free.
It had the opposite effect. He felt trapped and trapped in his mind, in his current state of fear. What would happen if he continued heading in this direction? Surely, he would reach the forest, but what then? But his parents would be so livid with him if he were to turn around and go back home now. Did he have the courage to face them?
Suddenly, he could not breathe. Maybe it was from running so hard, so fast, as if he had never run before. Or perhaps it was because he was stuck in his head. He never felt such fear before; he never even thought of running away from home before, and suddenly here he is. Why did he even run in the first place? Because the wind was different? Because he thinks he can reenact one of his Father’s stories? Foolish!
He felt warm tears streaming down his face. The tears were quick to freeze against the exposed skin of his pudgy face. How stupid he was. What was he even thinking? He was content with his life, right? So why did he run away? Why did he feel the need to escape the life he had? …Had? Did he already lose that life? Was it too late?
Maybe it isn’t too late to turn back… the sun set long ago while he was questioning his sanity and how stupid he was being, but… he was pretty sure he knew the way back home. Even if it were pitch black, with only the soft glow of stars to guide him, it would be enough to figure out his way until muscle memory kicked in and the familiarity of home guided him once more. With a shaky breath, he straightened his posture, puffing out his chest as if preparing for the scolding of a lifetime. He could only shudder at the thought of the lecture he might receive.
With another breath to shake him out of his thoughts, little Ajax tightened his grip on his bag, trying to forget his meltdown. He began to turn back, to follow his shallow footsteps back home and beg his family for forgiveness. After all, he was only fourteen. Teenage rebellion is typical during such years. Or at least that’s what he tells himself, a poor excuse for his reckless and impulsive behavior. Still, adolescence aside, shame and regret pumped through his veins.
But then he heard it— the howl of wolves. So loud, as if they were standing behind him, enticed by his scent or by the smell of the bag of bread he had in his hand. With widened eyes, he felt his breath hitch as he slowly turned around, only to be met with dark and menacing eyes.
Chapter 2: Farewell Ajax
Summary:
Ajax's journey continues... and a meeting with a stranger takes place.
Chapter Text
“Where did our child go? Oh, where is he?”
“Dearie, what’s the matter?”
“Our son! He- I fear he ran away. Oh, what will we do? He is a timid boy, he can’t possibly—”
“Ah, our Ajax will return within the week, no doubt. Perhaps in a day or two.”
“But dear, he is just a boy! He cannot survive all on his own out in the wild—”
“I’m sure this is all an act to show us he is not our little boy anymore. He probably ran off to the next town over. Don’t worry, dear, I’m sure our little Ajax is perfectly fine.”
“Well, if you say so, dear…”
—-----------—
Ajax never understood the expression of a soul leaving one’s body until this very moment. The wolf in front of him huffed, the breath spreading across the night sky, as if daring Ajax to make a move. As if challenging the young boy to fight. The growls of its pack reached Ajax’s ears, which sent cold, flesh-eating shivers down his spine. He began to feel numb, and for once, it was not because of the frigid temperatures.
With a sharp intake of the frozen air, which sent his lungs into a temporary shock, he gripped his bag and sword even tighter and took off in the opposite direction, away from the wolves, and even further away from home. As he ran, he could hear the wolves growing distant, but paws pounding the snow and ice as the pack continued to pursue him. So, he ran, further and faster, faster and further, smashing the snow, cracking the ice, and snapping branches.
It was the seventh snap of a branch when he realized that he was no longer in the field of pure snow and rocks by his house. It was hard enough to run in the darkness of night, and even more challenging to keep track of one’s whereabouts while frantically running for pure survival to avoid being mauled to death. He somehow made it to the forest. The very same forest that his mother hesitated to send him alone during the day to fetch firewood, and warned him never to enter alone, much less alone at night, for his mother knew of the wild creatures that resided under the cover of the tall, menacing trees and the few that took residence within the scattered caves and burrows that littered the snowy mountain’s soil.
But there is only so much noise one can make before animals awake from their slumber. The tenth snap of a twig was the final straw, or rather the final branch in that situation, as he ran by a large cave. Ajax flinched at the bears’ echo of their bellowing, a sign of being rudely awakened before daybreak. The wolves’ growling and howling only worsened the bears’ anger. Screaming and sobbing, Ajax continued to run, although he was tripping more often now on the forest floor, as tears blocked what little vision he had from the slight luminosity of the moon and its accompanying stars. It was fast approaching the middle of the night, and he was quickly running out of energy. Adrenaline can only take one so far. Yet the fear of what the creatures would do if he were to stop suddenly refueled him.
However, wolves and bears have four legs, and scared teenagers only have two. The initial distance between the creatures and him aided him greatly, but their speed is far superior to that of a fisherman’s son. Ajax felt the breath of a wolf tickling the nape of his neck, which he did not know was exposed to begin with. His scarf must have fallen in his haste to escape.
Ajax jumped, hoping that it would create distance between the jaws of death and the sudden opening in the ground. While in the air, he spotted a silhouette of what seemed to be a log and tried to avoid landing on it. If only fate were kind to its subjects. His knees landed first on the log, feet smacking harshly against it. He was quick to stand up, and as he moved forward, gravity took him down. Straight down into the large burrow he was trying to avoid.
Screaming, he let go of his bag, desperately trying to grasp onto something, anything that could stop his falling. He gripped onto roots, only to pull them out, tried to cling to the rocky surface as he continued his descent, yet his hands only slipped off. Eventually, his voice gave out, leaving only whispered yelps and cries of help on his split and chapped lips. This was no ordinary burrow.
Closing his eyes, he stopped screaming. He knew there was no way out of this. He continued to fall; his ears began to pop as he descended even further. It was as if he were traveling to the planet’s core or floating to the heavens above. Ajax couldn’t tell if up was down, or if down was up. Ajax began to accept that he would fall to his death. To face a painful demise at the young age of only fourteen because of his stupid, childish desire to become an adventurer.
His gut told him the ground was near, and so he said a silent prayer, hoping his father would forgive him. Hoping his family would forgive him. Hoping his father didn’t regret telling him those silly stories. Hoping, praying, his family wouldn’t be mad at him, praying they would be okay when he passed.
Despite being too afraid of opening his eyes, he knew the ground had to be approaching soon, any moment now. Ajax never understood the expression “seeing one’s life flash before their eyes'' until now. He suddenly began to remember his younger years when his older siblings would teach him how to build snow-people, how they would help him build snow forts for snowball fights, and how he would teach his younger siblings the same things. When his parents would take them to nearby towns and cities for vacation, he remembered when they all went camping and spent the night telling stories of happy endings. Ajax wished his ending could be a happy one.
Sometimes, fate has a cruel way of showing kindness.
Ajax did indeed reach the end of the seemingly endless pit, but a mountain of snow was what he landed on. His back made a thudding sound as his body made impact with the snow. It was no ordinary snow pile. The first layer was thin and pillowy soft, but the layers beneath were compacted with ice and the unforgiving coldness that is all too commonly found within this region of the world. In fact… it seemed almost… alive?
But Childe didn’t have time to dwell on what could be buried under all the snow. After all, he was currently tumbling, trying not to hit his head on rocks and ice on his way down. This pile of snow and ice was so large that it could rival even the highest peaks found in his homeland. Ajax continued to roll down the slope, lessening the impact and causing him to go further into a cave of ice, eventually coming to a stop as his stomach made impact with a massive stone structure. Groaning, he slowly stood up as he began clutching his stomach. That’s leaving a bruise, he thought to himself, closing his eyes in pain. With a shiver, he pulled off the worn red cloth that the sword was wrapped in and wrapped it around him as a scarf; it was way too big on him. Ajax kept wrapping it around his neck until it covered just below his eyes, ensuring he wouldn't trip on it while also keeping his face warm. Who knew an ice cave would be so cold?
Adjusting his gloves, he began looking around. With his movements, with the now uncovered sword at his hip, the blade almost glistened under the reflective light of ice. With a huff of frustration, his mind raced with ways to try to make it back to the surface. To escape this icy underworld and return to where skies existed. But he was indeed trapped and surrounded by ice. It almost looked as if he was inside the very mountains he grew up in. The leaking moonlight from the surface reflected off the many icicles and ice walls, giving nearly blinding light as it was reflected off the snow-covered ground. Looking at the slope he just rolled down, seeing the marks he left behind in the snow, he realized that traveling back up such a steep slope would only result in another stomach injury.
Turning back, he finally looked at the structure that he stumbled upon. To say it was huge and ever-towering was a vast understatement and injustice to this incredible work of stone. There were foreign symbols, faded but still clear enough for him to realize it was not a language he was familiar with. Perhaps it was a lost language, inscribed into the stone that had to be at least ten, if not at least twenty, times his current height. Taking a closer look, he could see there were ledges and holes of erosion throughout. As he continued to admire such a stone wall, he knew what he had to do, yet dreaded it entirely.
With a huff, he jumped up to the closest ledge and started climbing. Using the gaps of missing stones to secure his feet and the small gaps and holes caused by erosion to better grip the wall, he slowly made progress to the top. Perhaps being a small teen isn’t all that bad. After all, his small size allowed his feet and hands to fit perfectly in the gaps of the wall. During his climb upward, he imagined how an adult might struggle if they were in his shoes. He couldn’t help that a breathy, amused huff left his lips as he imagined his older brother trying to climb this wall and ultimately falling off it due to his large hands and clumsy feet. When Ajax finally encountered larger ledges, he was again thankful for his rather slender frame as he was able to lie down on the freezing stones and rest.
But with no real source of heat, it wasn’t very relaxing, and it wasn’t very restful.
Eventually, daybreak finally came, as he could only assume, since the intense luminosity was overwhelming as the cave reflected the light tenfold. With a wide grin of victory and on the verge of suffering severe frostbite, Ajax placed his hands on the edge of the wall and pushed himself up over the final ledge with all his might. Looking down over the ledge, he could see how deadly the climb he had made was. Ajax could barely see the ground from which he started. With the newly formed fear of falling off the platform he now stood on, he resolved to look forward to searching for any source of heat. Rubbing his hands together with frayed gloves will have to do for now.
It was then he saw a staircase, with no railing or promise of security to protect one from falling off the sides into the bottomless pit of the winter cave. Looking upward, Ajax began to see and feel as if he was trespassing into an unwelcoming place that did not treat wandering teenagers lightly. From where he stood, on the bottom platform, steps away from the bottom stairway, there were somewhat simple, yet intricate designs carved into the stone to complement the surrounding glowing inscriptions of an ancient language, symbols that seemed to match the ones that were on the stone wall he had just climbed. Perhaps it was the same language, the same words. But he had no real way of knowing.
He saw towering pillars that curved inwards, almost as if they were attempting to protect the leading platform from the external threat of the surrounding ice walls. Or perhaps ensuring the once complete building would remain entrapped within this tundra until the end of time, offering shelter and a sense of overwhelming mystery. Looking around, Ajax saw there was no other way to go. The only chance of safety and a chance of finding some means to keep warm, or dare he hope – a chance to escape, was the ominous staircase leading to the surrounding pillars.
Slowly, the small teenager began ascending the stairs, feeling a newly found sense of dread with every step. But this is what he wanted in the end, right? To explore new lands, to see the world, to experience other cultures, to learn new things, and to perhaps make a friend or two throughout his journey.
Yet as Ajax reached the leading platform, he suddenly got the feeling that, wherever or whenever these ruins were from, history was not kind to the natives of this land. He eventually came to realize the severity of the damage done to these ruins. Surely this could not all be the work of erosion. The wear and tear of stone and similar material became evident over time, but surely it could not be the sole factor as to why there were such significant gaps between the pillars. Gaps that he could only assume might have been filled by a wall or some building. Or maybe even a home.
Surely, there must have been a great battle or some unfortunate accident to contribute to the fact that there were very sharp and jagged edges of stone in some places and scattered piles of rubble and broken pillars. It was as if a greater force tampered with such ancient yet advanced architectural mastery. Standing in the center of the open space, surrounded by what was left of an ancient civilization, Ajax was so awestruck by what he was seeing that he did not notice the tall and menacing figures appearing from the shadows.
Ajax was in such awe that he had forgotten why he was even scared of such a place to begin with. Too absorbed in his imagination of how those who built such structures managed to blend artistry and function perfectly. From the parts that weren’t damaged, he could see the mastery of stone that ancient people had to cut perfectly and line up such a massive amount of stone. It was truly mesmerizing and astonishing. He wondered why he had never heard of such places existing before, which only strengthened his resolve to become an adventurer and to live out his own stories to tell his father one day while they went ice fishing again.
To the young teenager, the most exciting part of embarking on this journey was not the dangers and adventures he would surely encounter as he continued this wild path of life. It was not the promise of freedom. It was not just simply going wherever his growing heart desired. The most exciting thing was the fact that he will one day return home and tell his precious siblings and parents all about his time away from home. Too absorbed in his fantasies, he did not notice the nearly undetectable sound of footsteps as they drew nearer to him. Too absorbed in his fantasies, he forgot the very reason for ascending those once scary stairs was to find any source of heat. Or, even better, to find a way out of the cave that held the irresistible beauty of the ruins.
It was the sound of unintelligible words along with a harsh hit to his back that finally snapped Ajax out of it. Turning around, he saw multiple monsters of relatively short stature. Even without a weapon, despite his small, slender frame of relatively average height, he could easily gain the strategic advantage of gathering the enemies close to the edge and pushing them, so they fall to the harsh frozen ground, forever leaving the boy in peace. But, given that Ajax had a weapon, a short sword still attached to his belt and resting on his hip, he could easily fight them off until they either stopped attacking or until they went away to wherever they came from. Of course, such plans do not consider the personality and nature of the aspiring yet timid adventurer who has never fought nor learned self-defense.
Given the nature of Ajax, all such plans fell into the void of ice below them as he drew the sword, which was pressed between his hip and his belt, only for him to cut a long, shallow gash as the blade rubbed against his leg. Now, he held the sword with his right hand, his left clutching his now-injured leg. The fear and anxiety that flooded his veins overwhelmed the poor boy to the point where he could not think clearly. The monster seemed to be pleased at the injury, as their shouts began to increase, their movements even wilder now.
It was only when they began to approach him that Ajax started swinging his only weapon wildly in the air, trying to maintain distance between him and them and trying to survive. Holding it with only one hand and not yet used to the weight of the sword, even if it was relatively small, caused him to lose control of his grip, his sword spiraling into the air as it landed at the feet of a woman hiding behind the pillars, observing the situation unfold.
“Hmm,” she let out a sound of acknowledgement, almost as in amusement from witnessing the recent chain of events occurring right in front of her. Or at least Ajax thought this person was a “she.” It was hard to tell with his vision blurred from tears and panic. The person seemed to wear clothes that hugged their feminine curves perfectly, almost as if the clothes offered both protection and freedom of movement within combat. But the young teenager could not precisely determine how she got there in the first place. Ajax began shaking, from out of fear or from finally feeling the effects of the cold; he could not precisely know.
The enemies continued to close in on him, now surrounding him. He knew death was near, his weapon lost, and with no real knowledge of combat besides play-fighting with his younger siblings, he was a goner. But then he looked up at the woman’s eyes. Or at least he hoped it was her eyes, as the upper half of her face was covered with a dark, blood-red mask.
She was his only hope.
“P-p-pl-plea-please.”
He realized he had not spoken actual words at all for quite a while. For the past two days, he has only opened his mouth to scream or breathe warmth back into his hands. It suddenly felt quite odd to speak, even though he had talked to his younger brother earlier, just before his departure nearly two days ago. How chaotic life is that the events that occur within only a few days and mere hours could forever alter the course of one’s future. Coughing the roughness of his voice away, he attempted to be more coherent.
“Pl-please… he-el-help m-m-me-e-e.”
Despite the stuttering and voice cracks, Ajax hoped that she would at least get the general message of what he was requesting of her. Of what he was begging for: help. But she made no move at all to help him. And the monsters seemed to enjoy toying with him, as they moved closer inch by inch, throwing the elements so close to his feet that he could feel the sparks. He cleared his throat and tried again. Hoping his voice would not betray him again. As he dodged the attacks, he spoke again.
“Please. Help.”
Ajax tried to maintain eye contact with the mysterious figure, but it was hard to see much of anything with blurry vision. It wasn’t until he was choking from his tears that he noticed he was crying. It was then that he felt the frozen tears roll down his face, collecting in his mouth with his pure panic blocking his airway. Maybe if he were graced with the power of the wind, he would finally be able to breathe. Perhaps he could push back all these monsters, creatures he has never once seen or encountered before, with a simple gust of wind and fly himself out. Out of this cave and back to his family, to his home, the only home he will ever get to know and have.
Ajax felt something touch his arm, and it was suddenly like his arm brushed across the surface of the sun. His whole coat sleeve burnt to ashes along with half of his coat, leaving scorch marks on both his clothes and on the left side of his body. For a moment, he was grateful for some warmth at least. But that moment of gratefulness was shattered instantly when the frozen air bit his now exposed skin, the small gust of wind created by the fire whispered the promise of frostbite. He could not even feel the warmth of the burn as the cold now ate him alive.
The mysterious figure watched in amusement. What sort of child would throw a sword instead of wielding it as a means of defending oneself? I suppose it speaks of his character, she thought to herself. A coward. A coward who would beg a complete and utter stranger for their help. How pathetic. I have half a mind to let the Abyss do its work and have it take care of this child. Feeling tired of standing, she began to walk. Feeling as if she did not owe this wandering child anything, she took another step. If anything, it was this child who now owed her.
Ajax saw the figure move towards him, sparking hope that maybe he would survive this and get to return home. After all, based on their intimidating presence, this person might have very skilled combat abilities and perhaps even a mighty impressive sword, hidden away within her cloak. Some weapon had to be hiding in her cloak, right? So why did his savior pick up his pathetic sword? Was she even trying to help him?
With his blade in her hand, it looked as if she was holding a deadly toothpick. The weapon that was too big for him, yet much too small in her hands, with her towering stature. He wanted to yell at her, to scream to use some other weapon, any other weapon to finish them off quickly. But he held his tongue; after all, if he spoke out of turn, he risked her aid in this battle. Or perhaps she wanted to do the honors without staining her blade forever with his blood. Closing his eyes, he braced to get stuck down with his own brother’s blade.
“Open your eyes. This is the proper way to wield your sword within the art of combat.”
Gasping, he felt her overwhelming presence, and upon looking up, he saw she stood there staring at him from over her armored shoulder. With a smug smirk, she turned forward and began effortlessly defeating the strange creatures. Her moves were mesmerizing and awe-inspiring. He did not know people could move with such skill, if she were even human. Ajax would firmly believe without a doubt if she were to tell him she was not of this world.
With the last creature defeated, it seemed the battle lasted for mere seconds. She turned back to him, without a bead of sweat in sight. This fight was easy for her. She fought without hesitating, without fear, and with such ease. Ajax wondered if she perhaps grew up near such ruins, if maybe her ancestors once lived in similar places; thus, explaining her experience with such devilish monsters. Or perhaps she trained her whole life and began living down here with such frightening and brutal monsters to test her strength further. He could only theorize such things, but one thing he knew for sure was that he slowly began to admire her.
His blade in her hand, stained with a strange substance that was quickly disappearing along with the corpses of the defeated. Upon walking back toward Ajax, she was shocked by the look of astonishment in his eyes. Never had someone, let alone a child, looked at her in such a way after she demonstrated such vile acts. She was always looked down upon or looked at with fear. Once close enough to him, she threw the blade at his feet, the act making a deafening sound as it landed on the ground of ancient stone.
“You have two options. Take your blade and never return here again. Or take your blade and wield it against me.”
With wide eyes, he felt his blood turn colder than the freezing atmosphere around him. All sense of admiration was gone as fear took root in his soul. He already felt the frostbite nipping at his exposed skin due to his destroyed coat. After witnessing her in combat, how can he even think to wield a sword against her? How could he even move, much less get up to fight? How could he even fight the one who saved his life?
The effects of frostbite would make quick work of him, but he was sure she would kill him even quicker if he didn’t move to at least run away from her. He felt tears pool in his eyes again. Would he ever be truly free from the hands of death? His fate seems inevitable now. This time, he was sure there would be no other miracle. This time, he was sure he would die. Am I truly going to die like this? Am I going to die from the very hands that saved me?
“I-I-I don’t want to fight you. Please don’t make me fight you! I’ll leave in peace, and never return, I swear!”
Laughing, the woman waved a hand of dismissal. “I knew you were a coward. Best be off now, that frostbite will kill you any minute now.” With those words, something snapped in the young teenager. Sure, his family would tease him about his reluctant and shy nature, but who was she to criticize him? Who was she to make such snap judgments about him? Surely, she would have reacted similarly to him if the art of combat were unknown to her. Surely, she knew of the power fear had. Surely, she was defenseless at some point in her life and knew how scary life and death situations could be.
“Huh. I see. You still are a coward. But a coward with a fragile ego, is it?”
Ajax was confused by her comments. What did she mean by that? Did she get slightly shorter? Why were his hands shaking so much? And why did his hands get even colder than they already were? Upon seeing his confused face, she smirked. Why is she always so smug? I want to cut her ego down.
“Look down at your hands, boy.”
Looking down, Ajax saw how he was standing with his sword in his hands, ready to plunge it anywhere the blade could pierce. When did he stand up? When did he grab the blade? When did he walk closer to her? Gasping, he let the sword fall, clattering below him. His abrupt actions greatly aggravated his injuries, leaving him to collapse on the ground. The woman was almost impressed by how he stood up to her, until he fell back down on the ground. As he fell, the woman let out a laugh.
“Very well, come, I will treat your wounds, and after that, I will teach you the art of the sword.”
“But- I-I I just want to go home. I’ll never come back here, I promise! Just let me go home!”
“You will not leave the Abyss a coward. Plus, you would stain my reputation if I just let you leave here alive without punishing you to some degree at least.”
Ajax was confused by her words. But he didn’t dare question her. At least not now. The questions can come later. For now, his head grew fuzzy from everything that had just happened. He groaned again, the pain taking over as he remained on the ground. “Don’t punish me,” Ajax whispered, the words escaping his lips before his mind could register what he was saying. The woman scoffed, but then Ajax spoke again. “Train me.”
The woman grew quiet. Consideration. A beat. A paused moment in time. Then a sigh.
There’s something about this kid, she thought to herself. Her thoughts went back to just moments ago when he looked at her with such admiration, his blue eyes rivaled that of the sky. Perhaps it was untapped potential that she saw, as deep as true as the endless seas that held the same color of the eyes of the boy who is now on the ground before her.
“Skirk,” she introduced. Ajax, still hurt and very confused, just gave her a dazed look. The blood loss was getting to him. Seeing the look on his face, she spoke again. “If I’m going to train you, you might as well know my name.”
Chapter 3: The Birth of Tartaglia: Ajax Reborn
Summary:
Preview of Chapter 3. Full chapter coming soon....
Chapter Text
PROLOGUE: THE BEGINNING OF THE END
ACT III: THE BIRTH OF TARTAGLIA
“AJAX!”
“BROTHER!”
“MY BOY!”
“AJ!”
“WAKE UP, JAXY”
Bolting upright, he felt as if the wind was knocked out of him; his blurry vision started to clear. The faces of his mother, brothers, and his baby sister began to take up his field of vision. Upon realizing that he was now awake and aware of what was happening around him, his brothers and sister began hugging him. At the same time, his mother tried to separate her children so she could check to see if her once missing son had any serious injuries. Upon seeing that Ajax seemed relatively ok, she let the poor boy down from the tree stump, keeping an eye on her children as they walked ahead of her. She figured lecturing him could wait until after everyone had a good hot meal.
His older brother brushed off all the leaves and dirt while his other brother, who was of a similar frame as Ajax, took off his jacket and wrapped it around Ajax, as his clothes were ripped all over from the branches. With a raspy voice, Ajax began to thank his brothers while they nodded in response, not daring to speak. Ajax knew they were not pleased with him. But he decided not to pick at that thread at the moment. The string would eventually snap, and he was sure his older siblings would give him a stern lecture about how reckless he was being.
“How long was I-”
“A whole tree days Jaxy! tree!”
“Teucer, it’s three. Three! Not tree or thwree or twhree.”
The bickering between his younger siblings while Teucer held onto Tonia’s arm was a pretty, adorable sight to Ajax. With a chuckle that came out as a strangled laugh due to the rough state of his throat, he grabbed Teucer’s other hand in gratitude for answering, and as a means for him to stop the bickering. It was evident he was excited, yet his excitement was starting to give Ajax a headache.
“I missed you Jaxy,” he said while looking up at Ajax, who suddenly felt extremely guilty for running away in the first place. He wondered how much pain and worry his family had to endure, even if it was for a few days. Squeezing his hand, he gave his brother a watery smile, “I missed you, too.”
—-------
Finally arriving back home, it was pretty late, so everyone, including his family, was beginning to retire for the night and prepare for tomorrow. With a sigh and closed eyes, Ajax started to wonder about what Teucer said earlier. How could only three days pass when he experienced months of daily cycles of training and combat? Maybe Teucer was mistaken? But none of his other siblings corrected the youngest. Master did say time in the Abyss was not like time in my world. Maybe this is what she meant.
RuBy (Guest) on Chapter 3 Wed 20 Aug 2025 08:49PM UTC
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