Times of forging bonds

The girl in her dreams was smiling at her, but it was something pinched and unsure and it seemed like her lips were trembling at the corners. The girl extended a hand to her, but Opal didn't manage to take it, her arms feeling incredibly heavy, so the other decided to get closer and crouch down in front of her instead. It was strange, though. Opal had always been of small stature, but she had never been quite so small apart for when she was just a few years old. Maybe in her dream she was younger? She was lost in her musings, but was brought back to what was happening when the girl started speaking.

“Hey there” she said, in a voice that probably wanted to be soft and soothing but that failed halfway through, as if she wasn't used to it anymore. In such proximity, Opal noticed that her skin was marred with small scars and that her body was dirty with blood. “Why are you here, all alone? Shouldn't you have gone too?”

Opal was confused, to say the least. Did the girl not know her? She tried to shrug, but her movement came out wrong and not fluid.

“Ah, of course you can't...” The girl looked at her, frowning slightly, but then smiled tentatively again. “Actually, it doesn't matter.” She got up, not even making an attempt at dusting herself off, and made an inviting motion with her hand. “You can come with me, if you want.”

Opal failed to nod, but managed to take a wobbly step forward. She would’ve followed that girl to the end of the world, after all, even though she wasn't sure why.

The girl smiled, her expression softening, and took Opal’s hand before beginning to walk away. Opal eagerly followed her, but when her gaze dropped on her hand she got surprised.

Why were her limbs made of clay?

*

In a valiant effort to not think even more about the contents of the dream she’d had that night – what did it even mean, and why were so many things from the original dream changing? –, Opal eyed the clothes she’d borrowed from Celsian critically, pointedly focusing on them. After having washed her uniform – that she now wore again, to her delight – she’d washed the borrowed clothes too, but even though they were now clean they had been torn in a few places and generally ruined while they were escaping from the knights: she would’ve worn them in any case, but she felt very guilty, even though Celsian herself had already reassured her, plenty of times, that it was fine, and that things like that happened, so it wasn't her fault by any means. Opal was still of the idea that she should’ve been more careful with them. She didn't know how much time she’d spent glaring at a heap of fabric, but at some point Ametrine’s voice brought her away from her musings.

“… Opal, is everything… alright?”

Opal looked up from the clothes, finding the knight with a pinched expression on her face. “My clothes are ripped” she pouted. “And it doesn't matter what Celsian says, it doesn't change the fact that I still feel guilty about that.”

Ametrine’s expression shifted to a shade of perplexed. “Do you not have a sewing kit?”

Opal glanced away, the hold she had on the clothes slacking. “I don't, but even if I had one I wouldn't really know how to fix this.” Her more than questionable abilities in sewing buttons and dolls’ clothes, after all, weren’t really useful in that situation.

“I see...” Opal thought it would’ve been the end of that particular topic, but then Ametrine extended a hand. “In that case, could I perhaps try to do something?”

Opal looked at her slightly puzzled, but gave her the clothes nonetheless. “Sure…?”

The knight tilted her head and fished out – magically, in Opal’s opinion – a sewing kit from somewhere in her armour. “I will try my best.” As if she wasn't somehow good at everything, a Jack of all trades in her own right.

Opal watched as she sat down on a rock, the clothes on her legs, and started sewing with focus and precision. As with a lot of other things she did, she didn't lose time with useless motions and got directly to the point: her work wasn't perfect by any means, or pretty for that matter, but it was practical and Opal was low-key in awe. “How can you do so many things?” she asked.

Ametrine’s fingers didn't stop in their stitching, and she didn't look up, her eyes following attentively the progression of her work. “What do you mean by that?”

“You can cook, distinguish edible plants from poisonous ones, sew, create medicines, other things that in this moment don't come to mind...” Meanwhile, Opal had once burnt rice. With a rice cooker. It had been an isolated incident, sure, but her parents had never stopped making jokes about it, to her pure delight. “How can you do it?” How could someone be like her?

Ametrine’s posture didn't change, but a small and fleeting smile appeared on her face and Opal found herself drawn to it, since it was an occurrence more unique than rare.
“Necessity, mostly, and training. After all, a knight can never know what might be useful during their career.” There was an ironic note in her voice, as if she was thinking about what had happened to them in the latest period. Not that Opal could blame her.

“Still, it's very cool."

A corner of Ametrine’s mouth curled upwards. “Thank you. It is nice to hear, from time to time.”

Opal found her sentence a bit strange. Did the knight not usually receive many compliments? She was still debating if she could’ve gotten away with continuing that particular conversation and with asking Ametrine about details of her life or if it would’ve been better to change the topic entirely, when Celsian got back from her trip, appearing between the bushes.

“Hello, buddies” she greeted, joyful as ever, elongating the “o” in a singsong voice. “Did you miss me?”

The knight didn't even bother to look up or to try and fake politeness. “No” she answered bluntly, eyeing the thread and needle between her fingers as if she was thinking of other uses for it and employing all of her self-control not to actually act on her impulses. “Moreover, I am not your buddy.”

Celsian put one hand on her chest and the other on her forehead, which had to be some kind of achievement since she was carrying a few bags with her, sighing dramatically. “Oh, Ametrine, you're always so harsh! I'm not sure my heart can take it!”

Ametrine’s eye had a spasm. “Then maybe I am on the right path to get rid of you.”

Celsian put the bags on the ground, shaking her head. “I'm sure you don't actually want that, your life would be so much more boring without me in it.”

“Without you in it, my life would be actually peaceful.”

“As I said, boring.”

Opal was closely following the call and response, as if it was a particularly heated tennis match, and was low-key wishing she could have a box of popcorn or something like that, but the knight looked like she was on the verge of stabbing Celsian with her needle, so she decided that it was better to intervene before things got worse. It was true that the situation between those two had improved and that it wasn't as bad as it was in the beginning of their begrudging alliance, started roughly a week prior to that moment, but it was still shaky at best and they were always a wrong word choice away from jumping to each other's throats. Opal had to admit that it was highly entertaining most of the time, but there were also many moments in which she seriously pondered the pros and cons of repeatedly slamming her head against the closest available surface, in particular when she lost her comfortable role as a spectator and had to take the delicate one of the mediator. “In any case!” she exclaimed, probably a touch too loud if their startled twin reactions were of any indication. She still had to work on all that peacemaker thing, if anyone was wondering. “Ametrine was helping me with mending the clothes.”

“Oh really?” Celsian asked, somewhat intrigued.

“… Yes. I would say I am nearly finished, by the way” said the knight. She made a few more stitches, and then showed them the result. “Is this acceptable?”

“‘Acceptable’? How many abilities are you still hiding from us, wonder girl?” Celsian seemed to be sincerely impressed, even though her tone came off as vaguely sarcastic.

Ametrine frowned, as if she couldn't properly decide if that was a compliment or an insult. Or, perhaps, she simply didn't know how to react to compliments that came from the thief. “… this is nothing special” she chose to settle on at last. “I am sure that any other knight would be capable of mending a few tears on their clothes if the need arose.”

Opal wasn't so sure of that, but decided to let it go. “Still, thank you!”

Ametrine blinked, and then tilted her head. “You are welcome.”

In that moment, Celsian clapped her hands, gaining their attention. “Well, this is great!” She must’ve noticed Opal’s confused expression, because she looked at her and continued with: “Now that you have more common clothing again, it will be easier to enter villages without raising too many questions.”

“… I guess.” Opal was still stubbornly convinced that her uniform wasn't all that strange, but she knew which battles to pick.

“Speaking of this, did you manage to gather more information about the situation?” Ametrine asked the thief, standing back up and putting the now mended clothes away.

In response, Celsian puffed up her chest, putting her hands on her hips and assuming a proud air. “Of course I did, I’m a master of gathering info, after all!”

The knight raised a single unimpressed eyebrow, that alone said more than a million words, crossing her arms too for good measure.

Celsian deflated, sighing tiredly. “Tough crowd.”

“Go to the point, novelty act.”

Her tone was so blunt that Opal would’ve received some kind of damage just from the sound of it, but Celsian simply rolled her eyes and shook her head, letting Ametrine’s comment slide against her figure with a shrug, before actually answering. “You were right, about Palladium I mean. Apparently, according to the travellers and merchants, it's pullulating with guards.”

“As I imagined.” If possible, Ametrine became even more serious and Opal was horrifyingly reminded, among all people, of Sir Petrus. Her theory that, in order to graduate from the Knight Academy with flying colours, you had to forgo all facial expressions that weren’t some shade of solemn and stony was gaining more and more evidence by the day. “We definitely cannot go there, in this case.”

Opal frowned. “What can we do, then?” That was currently their only idea for a destination.

Celsian got pensive, bringing a hand to her mouth. “Well, if we can't go to the Library of Palladium, the next best thing would be to speak with someone who either works there or knows its texts very well-”

She stopped abruptly, and in that moment she and Ametrine shared the exact same sort of expression, as if they had just cracked a code. Celsian snapped her fingers.

“Rutile!” they exclaimed in unison, sharing some kind of revelation.

“Rutile?” Opal repeated, confused.

“Rutile Titania” Celsian said in explanation. “He was a student at the Palladium University, as well as one of my course mates.”

Ametrine nodded. “He comes from a family dedicated to studying stone magic, and has become an important figure in the community. He has even aided the knights with his knowledge, from time to time.”

“Plus, during university he was always at the library, he ought to know well its books.”

“He does seem like a useful person to talk to” Opal commented.

“And the best part is that he lives in Smaragdos, which isn't far from here.”

“It is also not very heavily guarded” Ametrine added. “Since it is near Palladium and most of the knights are stationed there.”

Opal smiled. “It sounds like we have a destination.”

“We do!” Celsian exclaimed, suddenly excited. “Oh, I've always wanted to return to Smaragdos!”

“We are not going there for tourism-” Ametrine tried, getting promptly ignored.

“You should see its stained glasses! Actually, you will see them, I'll be your guide and-”

“You will not, we are three of the most wanted people in the whole kingdom!” the knight rebuked.

“Oh, you party pooper.” Celsian was actually pouting.

“So sorry for not wishing to get arrested.”

“By the way, how will we manage to talk to this Rutile person?” Opal asked.

“How about a kidnapping? Classical, old-style, an exciting experience for all the involved parties-”

“I refuse to participate in a kidnapping!”

“Okay, then what about some nice, traditional blackmail? It's safer, but it still works pretty well!”

“No!”

Celsian threw her hands up in the air in exasperation. “Then what do you propose, pray tell? To knock at the front door, introduce ourselves and ask nicely? You were the one who underlined the fact that we are wanted criminals!”

Ametrine crossed her arms over her chest. “I know, however…”

At that point, Opal tuned them out for the time being: after all, if there was one thing she had learned by travelling with those two, it was that they were actually good at planning, when they put themselves onto it; that time too, despite various discussions, they would’ve managed just fine, she was sure of it. So, she gathered their few belongings, and then let her mind wander and swim freely through her thoughts.

Some part of her had never left the dream from that night, even though she’d done her best to keep herself occupied and not to ruminate on it and its meaning. Since the day she had arrived in that world, the usual trajectory of her dream had changed every time she had closed her eyes and slept, with details that were one weirder than the other constantly being added, but she didn’t know why. Would she have discovered more with time? It felt like those were all tiny hints, small splotches of colour that together would’ve painted a bigger picture, and she felt like she was on the point of getting some other answers to her many questions: she didn't know if she would’ve liked all of them, but she needed to know more, to make sense of everything that was happening, and she wouldn’t have given up until that goal was achieved.