#Oh wait one time she strangled my little sibling because they complained about finding blood in their can of tuna

[kerra-and-company]

a beginning, or something like that

(So, I wanted to write a fic about my character Cio’s origins/childhood. And that somehow turned into 2000-odd words about the asura who rescued her and her brother. And the story’s not technically done yet and could have more chapters. How did I do this.)

Warnings: blood, minor character death, stabbing, guns

A03

1301 AE, somewhere underneath Rata Sum

This was the last place Yazzepa wanted to be.

Their guard, Peacemaker Jellun, cursed as he tripped over a stone for the fiftieth time in the past hour. It had almost become an expected rhythm, albeit a very annoying one. Why on earth did I agree to this?

They didn’t even remotely like Prusa and Ziff. Of course they would prefer it if the asura could have kept their subterranean homes; who wouldn’t? But the way to reacquire them was most certainly not by going back to said caves and riling up the living rock conflagrations. No, the surface was the safest place, and that was where they would stay. The destroyers could be studied in any of the many, many places they erupted above ground.

But Yaz just had to be bored, and they had to request some sort of expedition, and they had to get away from Quebb, who would not stop complaining about Rata Sum’s golems and how they continued to disrupt his “perfectly legitimate business,” and saying things like “please, Yaz, can’t you pull a few wires out of those things for me?” As if they even liked working with wires. Or had any control over the golems whatsoever, for that matter. Being a professor did not, contrary to popular belief, give them an all-access pass.

So, now they were here, pouring through caverns looking for the lost couple with Jellun, who insisted on monitoring their every step while he tripped on rocks that he couldn’t be bothered to see. The missing couple had gone on yet another expedition, but this time, they’d taken their two progenies with them. No one in the family had been heard from in days. Yaz just hoped they hadn’t managed to wake any Elder Dragons in that time frame; it would be difficult to continue their research if their lab (and Rata Sum) was destroyed.

As the Peacemaker and the scientist progressed deeper and deeper into the cavern, the air grew warmer and warmer. Yaz wasn’t sure if the original asuran caves had been this hot, but they sincerely doubted it, especially as the caves became filled with dim light the color of a hazy sunset. They switched off their headlamp, and Jellun did the same.

“We must be approaching a destroyer nest,” Jellun said, as if he was the one in charge. “Stay close.”

They emerged from a narrow hallway into a large chamber whose floor was…half melted, Yaz supposed would be the best way to say it. Several fountains of lava spouted from the ground, and the smell of sulfur in the air nearly incinerated Yaz’s nasal passages. But there were no destroyers—only a small bundle in the back of the room, and if Yaz squinted, they could make out the form of a progeny, clutching what looked like a much smaller progeny to their chest.

“Oh, thank the Alchemy,” Yaz said, half out of relief that they could get out of these caves soon and half out of relief at finding the progenies alive. They rushed across the chamber, ignoring Jellun’s shouts for them to wait, and knelt down in front of the older progeny. They—no, wait, he, Yaz recalled—flinched back, holding his younger sibling so tight that Yaz was afraid he’d strangle them.

“It’s all right, progeny,” they said, trying to make their voice soothing. “We’re here to rescue you. Where are your parents?”

The progeny flinched again, trying to wiggle farther back against the wall. “They are dead,” he spat out, his voice shaking.

“Oh,” Yaz said, having considered this possibility but not what to say. “Well. I am sorry for your loss, but please come with us. This is no place for a progeny.”

They reached out a hand. “No!” the boy screamed, and his arms tightened around his sibling, who let out a squeak. They could see his chest rise and fall as he tried to stay calm, and they pulled back. “No. I’ll come with you. But do not touch me or my sister.”

“All right,” Yaz replied, “but you must stay close to us. Is that acceptable?”

He nodded, then his eyes widened. He was staring at a spot over Yaz’s shoulder, and they spun around, their hand on the hilt of their mace.

Jellun was pointing his pistol at them—no. He was pointing his pistol at the progenies.

Yaz froze.

“Peacemaker,” they said, trying to keep their voice level. “What exactly are you doing?”

“I was ordered to prevent our targets from returning to the surface,” Jellun said. If the ice in his tone could physically materialize, it would have frozen even the lava.

So many questions and objections sprang to Yaz’s mind, but the one that made it out first was “By whom, exactly?”

“That is none of your business, Professor. But I was not ordered to kill you. Move aside, and you’ll make it back to Synergetics alive.”

“Can I at least ask why?” they asked, throat dry. They doubted it was entirely because of the heat.

Jellun blinked, once, before refocusing on the progeny and his sister. “It does not matter. Move.”

Yaz let out an involuntary and entirely inappropriate snort. “You don’t know? Glitches and sparks! You agreed to kill progenies without even knowing why?”

“I follow orders,” Jellun snapped. “Unlike you. This is my last warning, Yazzepa. Move, or I shoot you and the progenies.”

Yaz took a deep breath as they pulled at their magic, preparing. They hadn’t fought in years, but they knew how to make a shield as well as they knew themself. At the very least, they could protect, if not defend.

Growling, Jellun cocked the pistol. “Well, then, I see that you’ve made your de—”

He choked. The pistol dropped from his hands. The tip of a knife, sparkling with magic, poked out of his chest. As Jellun collapsed to the ground, Yaz saw a mesmer clone, staticky but still solid.

“I don’t know if they made a decision,” said a small, shaky voice over their shoulder. It echoed from the clone, bouncing oddly off the cave walls. “But I did.”

The clone shattered with a sob. It took Yaz a beat to turn around again, trying to process everything. When they did, the older progeny was standing. He held a knife in one hand and his sister in his other arm. Tears glistened on his cheeks, but he didn’t bother to wipe them away.

“Can we leave now, please?” he asked, still trembling.

But Yaz’s eyes were focused on the toddler now. No longer held as tight as before, she stretched and yawned in the boy’s arms. Apparently, she’d been asleep through the whole thing—good for her. But they noticed now (how could they have missed it?) that the progeny’s short, tight curls glowed, just like the lava did, and they saw singe marks on the boy’s shirt.

“What in the Alchemy…” They trailed off.

The boy saw where they were looking, and shrieked, dropping his knife to hold his sister with both arms again. Her hair abruptly turned plain black, and the singe marks vanished.

(Oh, right. Mesmer.)

“There’s no possible way that she’s why Jellun was told to kill you, is there?”

“No!” the progeny cried out immediately. “This just occurred! He couldn’t have known!”

“All right,” Yaz said. Their curiosity was far from satisfied, but the boy clearly didn’t know much more than they did, and they were beginning to notice Jellun’s blood seeping into their boots. “A mystery for another time, then.” They met the progeny’s eyes.

“My name is Yazzepa. I will not hurt you or your sister. I am a professor, and I worked with your parents. They were…exceptional individuals. We did not get along often or well, but for the memory of their brilliance, I will keep you safe.”

He looked like he wasn’t sure if he should believe them, but, eventually, he nodded. “I’m Pliarr, and this is Cio.” He bounced little Cio in his arms, and she giggled.

“It is nice to make your acquaintance, Pliarr,” Yaz said, solemnly shaking one of his tiny, barely-free hands. “Will you follow me?”

Pliarr nodded, much more quickly than they’d expected, and the small group of three set off on the hike back to the surface.

Jellun’s body was left behind.

Good riddance. They’d known the Peacekeeper for all of two hours, and that had been far too long.

****

They reached the cave entrance with surprisingly little incident. Pliarr had to be exhausted, but he never complained once. He did, reluctantly, allow Yaz to carry Cio after the first ten minutes or so. The lava-haired progeny fell asleep again in Yaz’s arms: an odd feeling, but not a bad one.

“Where do we go now?” Pliarr asked, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the fading sunlight.

“Go to my home,” Yaz said. They were going to regret this, but until (if, part of their brain pointed out) they could figure out who’d hired Jellun, they didn’t know where else Pliarr and Cio would be safe. They fished a piece of paper out of their pocket, scribbled out their address, and shoved it into Pliarr’s hand. “Be careful, progeny. If you can make portals, do that.”

They carefully passed Cio to her brother, miraculously avoiding waking her up. Pliarr looked up at Yaz with wide eyes.

“Thank you for keeping us alive, Mx. Yaz.”

“What else would I do?” Yaz said, nonplussed. “And you did a good job of it yourself. Go, now. I’ll meet you there.”

Pliarr hesitated, and then he took two quick steps to Yaz’s side, awkwardly hugging them with the single arm that he had free. Yaz hugged him back, equally awkward, trying to ignore the smell of burning fabric from where Cio’s hair touched their tunic. The hug only lasted a few seconds before Pliarr stepped back, smiling a little. He and his sister turned away and headed for the residential area of the city, and Yaz sighed. They had a few more stairs to climb.

****

A few heads turned as Yaz approached the accountancy waypoint, but they were only looking for one person. Luckily, that one person spotted them instantly.

“Yaz!” Quebb cried excitedly. “Well, if you aren’t a sight for sore eyes. Any luck with—”

“Quebb,” Yaz said quickly, cutting him off. “I need a favor. Can you find Iassa for me?”

“Of—of course,” Quebb said, looking a bit hurt. “But I thought we could—”

“If you find me Iassa, we can talk about the golems tomorrow, okay?”

Quebb lit up like an in-use waypoint and hurried off, returning a few minutes later with a tiny asura in tow. She looked Yaz up and down and nodded before turning to Quebb. “Can you give us some space, please?”

He did so, rambling about something that Yaz ignored. Iassa stared at them. “So? What is it?”

“I need you to fight what cannot be fought,” Yaz said.

Iassa’s eyes narrowed. “You want me to break the unbreakable. Yaz, you’re not in the Order anymore.”

“I know. I don’t regret that decision. But I need your help, Ia.”

Iassa sighed, putting her hands on her hips. “All right. Only because it’s you. What’s going on?”

“Someone hired a Peacemaker to kill a family, or at least make sure they stayed dead. Two parents and two progenies. The—” they stumbled for a second, then continued. “The progenies are in my house. The parents are dead. So is the Peacemaker.”

“By the Alchemy. Okay. What’s your point here?”

“I need you to help me find out who hired him. You still have connections. I’ve broken off most of mine.”

“Yaz, I’m not an investigator-for-hire,” Iassa said. “But I’ll do my best, I can promise you that. Meet me back here in three days, and I’ll let you know what I’ve learned.”

Yaz nodded and stepped back, smiling just a little.

“Oh, and Yaz?” Iassa called, just as they were starting to turn.

“Yes?”

“We miss you.” Iassa looked down at the flagstones. “I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” Yaz replied, brusque but honest. They paused, taking in Iassa’s face, and then began walking towards the stairs.

Whispers was their past. Whether they liked it or not, the progenies were their future, at least the immediate portion of it. They knew which one they’d rather embrace.

They’d see Iassa in three days. Surely, they could handle (and protect) Pliarr and Cio for that long.

Well, no way to find out except to try.

#my fics #gw2 #yazzepa #pliarr #cioffi #iassa #(who may also become a character that I write about we'll see) #this is so NOT what I set out to write but I'm decently proud of it #yaz is just like 'I do not know how to Parent and I do not want to but children should not die so I guess I'm trying now' #also: no Pliarr is Not Okay #even if this doesn't get another chapter I'll write about that eventually #yaz took one of my new character slots by the way; I may make a post for them #they never really become a Parent (TM) to cio and pliarr #but they are stuck as 'guardian' for the rest of their life #it's an interesting dynamic