45 April and The Renegade

April's breath caught in her chest. The surroundings faded, and her whole world became a singular person. A man standing when he should be lying. His entire existence a shining beacon overshadowing an inky umber night. Golden hair glittering. His back providing a cozy shade where her lost soul felt could seek sanctuary. The stalwart figure turned, smiling, his words lost on her ears.

The verdant green of her eyes unable to retreat from his visage. Her ears allowed the fantasy to continue for another moment before they brought her back.

"April?"

She blinked.

Bellavarn sat up in his bed. Clothed. A hand resting over a small journal on his lap. His image was not unlike the one in her mind. The only difference was that this visage looked mortal—an inspiring and beautiful visage. But mortal still...

"I'm sorry."

Her throat betrayed her. Making the words squeak out softly. The words were meant to mean so much but offered so little. Sorry for everything and more. For the past and the future. Recognition of wrongful deeds and a promise to correct mistakes. An oath of loyalty and commitment. Pitiful words from a little girl hopelessly in love.

"I'm sorry, Bellavarn."

His smile hurt her. The kindness in his eyes was too much. The way the corners of his lips turned his cheeks, his nose twitching slightly. She averted her gaze toward her hands, examining thin fingers dancing awkwardly with themselves.

"I made a choice, April. I didn't think I'd be poisoned, but I would do it all again. As long as it was me and not you."

Her whole body twitched—complex feelings whirling through her stomach. April's neck squirmed into her shoulders.

"Why..."

There wasn't a response to her trailing words. Her eyes flickering up, registering mild confusion before flickering back down—picking nails.

"Why, what? Why did I do it? Or, why would I do it again?"

April only bobbed her head, orange hair blocking her sight.

She could hear his intake of breath. Goosebumps crawled across her cold skin, all the way down to her clammy hands.

Vaguely sensing his movements... Bellavarn aimed his head up, relaxing his neck against a plush pillow. The answers played through her head—the iterations of declarations of love or admonishment of impulsive action.

"Because of pain."

Her eyebrows pressed together. She tried to make the word fit into a mold she conjured, but it fits none of her expectations. She stopped picking her nails and looked back up at Bellavarn. April expected him to look tired or drained, but he was resolute. His ocean-blue gaze could be interpreted as intense, that is... if the sea inside his soul wasn't calm as a summer green prairie.

April realized she was seeing her own eyes reflected in Bellavarn's. The colors blended, diluted, and shimmering.

The moment fell away when Bellavarn spoke.

"I will carry your pain."

"What..."

"You don't have to walk alone."

More confusion. April felt as if he was several steps ahead of her. Bellavarn noticed this and walked his way back.

"Pain is my answer. I jumped into that blade to receive its pain. Whether I was trying to punish myself or not, I haven't figured out. What I do know is that I didn't want you to feel it."

He continued.

"More grandly... I received the pain of the people. Their starving hunger and rational fear. I received their burden and helped them overcome it."

"But you suffered for it!"

The ferocity of the words surprised her. Finding herself on her feet. Her eyes pleading for something unknown.

"Yes..."

Bellavarn's voice was low and solemn.

"It hurt."

She felt her legs sit herself back down.

"It hurt a lot."

Her heart twinged. Remembering the screams and shrill cries of utter agony. His soul was weeping.

"I know you were here. I wish you weren't, but I know you heard me. It did hurt."

A pause.

"But I would do it again because I could handle pain. More than you. More than the others."

"It hurts others when you are in pain."

Once again, her own words shocked her. Where had they come from?

Bellavarn nodded.

"Yes. I am grateful to have friends like them. They've helped me, and I owe them the world. I will give it to them should they ask."

April felt a twinge of jealousy.

"Which brings me to my point."

She waited, holding her breath.

"I've been cold to you."

Bafflement.

"What! No, you haven't. You've been nothing but kind to me. You took a blade in the gut for me!

Bellavarn shook his head.

"No. I've been suspicious. We all have. You've heard it first-hand from my father."

April shivered.

"And my mother."

April literally froze, remembering her first encounter with Trisha Sallow. She shook her head, violently. Not wanting to remember that.

"I was betrayed by someone close to me. I bounced back, became friends with the staff, and was in the middle of creating a brand new invention. Then, all of a sudden, you walked in. I would be an idiot not to be suspicious of your intentions and motivations. It was unfair to you, but I never truly trusted you."

"You didn't?"

Bellavarn shook his head sadly.

"No. I didn't."

"Oh."

April came to terms with that. If she'd been in his shoes, it might have been the same. The words felt oddly comforting to her at this moment. She was working up the courage to speak when more words pierced her heart.

"I like you."

Time stopped for her then. The words weren't expected. Not at this moment. No. It was a complete 180. She expected him to say "let's be friends" instead. To tell her that it wouldn't work between them. That there was no trust...

"I like you, April. And I want to make it up to you."

His smile was so pure and delicate. His heart displayed on his sleeve. Open as a book.

She felt her eyes welling up. April could see the truth of his words. It made her heart flutter.

"You make me smile when I see you. And it is time I stopped denying your feelings, as obvious as they are."

He leaned forward and wiped a stray tear. His face was close. Too close. Hammering in her chest. His laugh was gentle, and his smile was her world. She couldn't get her eyes off his lips...

And then they brushed hers.

Melting.

=

Bellavarn pulled away, his face still warm. Breathe coming short. The vision of the girl in front of him did crazy things to his heart. Seeing her pink lips, imagining how sweet they tasted, then realizing he knew. He tried focusing on her eyes instead, but he quickly got lost in twin shimmering emerald marbles.

They stayed like that for a while. Gazing into each other, remembering the moment, wishing for more.

With a breathy exhale, April leaned back. Bellavarn did the same. Taking a moment.

"That was my first kiss..."

Innate shyness bubbled up within him.

"Ah. Well... I hope it wasn't bad. I'm not exactly experienced either."

"It was... magical."

He felt all the blood rush to his face and quickly averted his gaze. He hadn't planned the kiss, but it felt right, and he couldn't resist. What he actually wanted to say was this...

"So. I was thinking. Maybe we can go on a real date. There is a festival coming up and..."

He trailed off, leaving the offer open-ended. It pained him to realize that their "date" to the charity ended so horribly. It also caused massive internal suffering when he conjectured their trip to the cemetery as their first date. Bellavarn wanted to get rid of those feelings immediately, scratching them from the board. Their first date could be different. Planned. Perhaps a tad magical?

An odd sensation overcame him for a millisecond. Resonance... A vague distinction of rattling. Clinking...

"I..."

He turned to face April once again.

"I'm sorry, but I will be busy that day."

Disappointment.

"Oh. Then... Maybe another time. Did you have something else in mind?"

April was silent. Looking at her, Bellavarn worried. Something seemed to switch off. There was no trace of the emotion or moment they shared.

"I'm sorry, but I will be busy. I don't know if we will see each other for a while."

This was April. It was April. It was her. But something was different. What chilled his bones was that he recognized that look. Twice.

"I'm not sure I understand. Are you going somewhere? Did my father say something to you?"

A faint movement. Voice vague.

"I... think we should slow things down. Take some time."

"Was it the kiss? I didn't mean to scare you."

Her lips sealed.

Bellavarn felt something stir in his chest. Was it pain? He felt himself grasping.

"I know I wasn't wrong in that you liked me. I like you too. So what is standing between us?"

Her eyes avoided his. He moved, trying to catch them. She was retreating. Going somewhere far away, and he didn't know where.

"Don't pull back, please. Whatever it is, you can tell me. I won't push you away. I said I would carry your pain, didn't I? Tell me what is wrong and I will fix it."

She kept her gaze away from his until he got right in her face again. What he saw was absence. Something chilling. Did he see something? Were those... Chains?

April abruptly stood. He pulled back so they wouldn't headbutt.

"Here."

The offered hand was unexpected. A small folded cloth was held gently in April's outstretched hand.

Bewitched, he accepted the gift. He recognized it as a handkerchief, an offering of affection. The mixed signals were pulling at him. Torn in two directions. Bellavarn knew something was wrong but couldn't understand. He felt as if he were a marionette, the puppet master cackling in delight, watching Bellavarn's awkward struggle.

The small colored image stitched into the fabric resonated with him. All his hair stood on end.

A wizard.

An inch tall. The golden-haired wizard smiled. Covered in purple robes, holding a sparkling wand.

It hammered into his soul. Drums beating. He heard the chains wrapping around his consciousness. Chains conforming and searing simulated flesh. The cold iron burned. Scorching hot. Pain.

Ozone and the taste of iron. Bellavarn bit his tongue.

The chains oozed, melting magma. Determined to be more painful than succumbing to their cold embrace.

Rebellion.

A renegade revolted.

This pain was nothing.

This pain is tolerable. Preferable!

Never as painful as isolation. As the searing flames of rejection. As a maiden's cry for help.

*SNAP*

Cacophonous shattering.

The illusion broke and Bellavarn awoke. Blood dribbled down his lip. Through bleary eyes he could see the retreating back of April. The green undertones in her clothes fluttering away. Curly ginger hair bobbing...

"April..."

Voice scratchy.

"April!"

She didn't respond as Bellavarn clattered to the floor. Grunting. His wound reopening. She couldn't hear him. He had no other choice. A piece of paper snapped between his fingers.

*SNAP*

His world flashed white in an instant, eardrums ringing.

Reorienting. Groaning. Warm crimson liquid chilling his skin. A deep breath.

"KERV!"

His vision returned. Bellavarn stumbled to his feet. April continued out the door as if she hadn't been affected by the flashbang. Then she stopped, bumping into an armored figure. Kerv.

"Hold her still! Don't hurt her!"

Kerv complied, grabbing April's shoulders. April thrashed wildly. Completely unlike herself. She tried to kick and bite but was unable under Kerv's magic enhancements. He called out, a bit perplexed.

"What happened, Bell? Should I-"

He didn't get a chance to finish as Bellavarn took April from him. Shaking her, he shouted.

"Snap out of it! April! Are you there?"

"Let go of me! Let go!"

She kicked and scrambled. A punch landed on his wounded stomach, causing him to fold in. Still holding on, he called to her.

"Wake up! You are safe. It is me-"

A hand clawed at his face; he dodged narrowly.

"April..."

"Murderer! Rapist! Savage! Unhand me!"

"Bell! Let me-"

"Master Bell! What is going on-"

"Is that April? What is she-"

The others arriving. Kerv. April. Bellavarn. No more words were uttered as the unthinkable occurred.

=

April is lonely.

Someone locked away the Mini-Aprils.

Holding herself, April wandered her head. Solitary.

A brisk wind blew through the complex—a mindscape office. Paper fluttered. Trash bins rolled across the floor. A conference table acted as a shield from an invisible foe. Something stalked through the halls, between shadows, teleporting through the light.

A snack dispenser flickered and buzzed as an overhead light swayed. Errie whistling from a distant teapot. A large board of blinking lights. Labels in another language. Levers...

April stretched upward for the levers. Maybe they would open a door or bring her back to consciousness. Alas, she couldn't reach. The curse of her short existence.

*Mphf*

Muffled sounds. A floor panel opened. Out popped HB April. Tiny, oddly muted in color. Small round feet plopped onto the hardwood. Puffs of dust floated off as she swept her overcoat with a free hand. Posing, bubbles floated out of her pipe.

"Who..."

"No time. Follow."

HB's footsteps made illogical cute sounds as she towed April to a hidden door.

Searching left and right. HB waved April through. Walking in tandem, HB's detective cap level with April's bellybutton.

"You don't remember the other times. Only I do."

"What don't I remember?"

HB put away her pipe, appearing serious, dramatic lighting framing her face.

April wanted to pinch HB's cheek. She was so cute and small and all dressed up. But it would be like pinching herself and April though it might hurt. Wait... Did she just call herself cute?

Shaking away the thought, April listened intently to HB's high pitched voice.

"The chained ones. They come to bind us. Command us to act a certain way and restrain us if we refuse. We were close this time. So close..."

They walked through a dusty hall. HB dragging April by the hand.

"Stay low."

April complied, ducking her head underneath some fallen support beams. Backstage to whatever machinations went on inside her head. April whispered.

"Where are we going?"

HB paused. Dramatic once again.

"To free the others."