Edited by Iseul

At first, Julian was certain that he heard wrong. Stupidly, he asked, “What?”

“Thank you!” Leonel raised his voice, shouting as though Julian was truly deaf. “Thank you for helping me out and saving my life! I vow to repay you one day! Even if it shall be with my life!”

“…” Julian stood there, frozen in front of his food preservation device with a de-feathered chicken in his hand, blinking and stunned. Leonel spoke with such seriousness that the doctor almost feared that it wasn’t a joke. It had to be a joke, right? 

Leonel liked to be sarcastic. That was likely sarcasm, right? 

Just when Julian was about to snap back with a witty (or stupid) reply, Leonel suddenly took a step forward and continued, “And I’m sorry as well. For being passive-aggressive. I was really agitated today. I’ve always been told that I have a bad personality. Sorry about that too.”

Julian blinked dumbly and for some reason, all he could muster up to say was dry, “You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

Leonel shrugged. “This is just how I am.” The inquisitor strode across Julian’s home as if he owned the place and flopped down in Julian’s hammock.

Which reminded the doctor…

Julian narrowed his eyes. “That’s mine, you know? Go and sleep on the cot! Did you really think that a few pretty words would subdue me enough to let you get away with this awful behavior!?”

The copy of Glendrilla and the Beast Vol. 3 was still lying on the counter next to the hammock. Leonel reached over to pick it up, flipping through the pages to find his bookmark. “Yes. I’m still mad at you for being an ass. So I’m taking your spot in retaliation.” 

Flabbergasted, Julian said, “You’re a shameless brat.”

Leonel scoffed lightly but didn’t bother to look up from the book. "And you're a shameless old man. Not like you can do anything about me sleeping here. Just deal with it."

Julian wanted to pull his hair out, angered that his unwelcome guest was right.

The doctor fell asleep on the cot that night, exhausted and exasperated. But a private part of his heart conceded that he had fun as well. It'd been a long time since he'd had fun.

…

The following morning, Julian was woken by the smell of char and smoke. He jolted from the cot at once, fearful of fire.

His eyes stung instantly, lungs complaining with coughing. There was certainly smoke in the air. Though it was only a thin trail, Julian couldn’t see the extent of the issue without his glasses. “Fuck!” he yelled, groping around frantically in search of his glasses. Where did he put them again? Did Dog eat them or something?

“Stop flailing. You look absurd,” a calm, rumbling voice replied. In the midst of Julian’s sleep-addled state, he was suddenly reminded of the fact that he was sharing his home with someone else. 

How could this guy be so calm?

“The fire!” Julian screeched, still desperately searching for his glasses. “Where's the fire? Did you put it out?" But when he looked around, Julian was coming to realize that aside from the glare of morning sunlight, there were no bright licks of light that assaulted his sight. No heavy smog to coat his lungs either. Just a small hint of smoke creeping up his nostrils.

"Calm down. There's no fire. I just…" A heavy sigh came from the inquisitor, along with a grunt of annoyance. "I don't know how to make it stop doing this."

“What? Do what?” Julian asked, unable to make out what Leonel was talking about. 

His eyeglasses turned out to be sitting on his desk, where he usually has them placed. But perhaps after being so rudely woken up in fright, he had forgotten to look there first. Julian suddenly flinched when he felt a hand around his wrist that pulled his hand forward. His eyeglasses were carefully placed in his palm.

Julian was too petty to say thank you and quickly snatched his glasses away. Once they were on his nose, his vision suitably sharpened. It was then he was finally able to see the block of metal that Leonel had in his hands. 

It wasn’t just an ordinary block of metal. It was a portable bluestone-powered hearth! Or something that Julian liked to call a Hot Plate(TM). 

“What are you doing!?”  Julian shrilled and leaped out to grab the thing out of Leonel's hands. It was a mistake because when he grabbed the hot plate, it instantly scalded his fingertips and palm. Julian hissed and dropped it to the ground.

There was smoke rising from the edge where a bluestone was pulsing in the socket. These ‘portable hearths’ or hot plates were designed to emit the same degree of heat as a cooking fire. It was a very popular household item, despite being outlawed by the Divine Light’s blueiron ban. 

But despite their convenience, hot plates also posed a certain degree of danger. Not only was the hot plate slowly heating up, but the bluestone wedged within the socket was overreacting with the device, causing a string of smoke to rise. Julian paled, fearing that it might explode at any second.

And though he could cast a spell to counteract the bluestone, Julian wasn’t so keen on revealing his magic to Leonel so soon! With some quick thinking and catching sight of Leonel’s witch slayer leaning against the stuffed bear, Julian was suddenly struck with brilliance. 

He pointed at the sword. "Quick! Take your sword and smash it. You need to destroy the bluestone!”

The inquisitor nodded. Without protest, he swiftly retrieved his sword and raised it to cleave the device— 

“No! I said the bluestone! Aim at the bluestone, dammit—!”

Too late. The witch slayer came down heavily. There was a small boom in Julian’s home. Bits of metal shrapnels shot out. Julian acted quickly, raising his arm to protect himself from the blast. Fortunately, he was quick enough to protect his well-loved visage. Unfortunately, his arm was completely shredded by the flying bits.

The day hadn’t even begun yet and he wanted to scream.

“You!” Julian shouted, pointed accusingly at the inquisitor. Parts of his sleeve hung in bits, blood dripping, making even more of a mess. “What in the name of the seven realms were you doing!?”

Leonel’s brows were furrowed, his blue eyes glaring at Julian’s bloodied arm. He almost looked like he was pouting, if it wasn’t for the indignant huff he let out. Wait, no, actually, he really did seem like he was pouting. Maybe just a bit. “What do people normally use hot plates for? Obviously, I was trying to make breakfast.”

"If you don't know how something works, you could have just asked! Or would that have hurt your big boy's pride?" Julian hurled complaints while he drew his arm back, grimacing at the mess left on his flesh. Pain needled through his nerves along with swelling heat. Not to mention, his fingers and palms tingled too, from burns.  Julian wouldn't be surprised if bits of metal were caught under his skin. He'd have to go and dig them out with his injured hand.

“You were asleep.” Leonel’s voice was slightly softer than usual. The inquisitor chewed his lips before hesitantly adding. “You arm…?”

“It’s fine.” Julian waved him off, already searching for his medical supplies. “I’ll deal with it myself, you go clean up the mess that you made instead. Now, where did I put…” Julian couldn’t quite remember where he put his suitcase, only to recall belatedly that Leonel was the one that handled it yesterday.

“Didn’t you just burn your hands? Let me take a look.”

“I said—“ Julian waved his hand dismissively, only to yelp when he was grabbed by the wrist and hauled up. His left arm, which Leonel held him by, was luckily not nearly as mangled as the right one. Still, that didn’t alleviate Leonel’s bruising strength. “Ow! Let me go, you brute.”

“Let me take a look.” Leonel insisted, holding the arm out to inspect. With the way his brows furrowed, he seemed almost concerned. “I’m an inquisitor. I know a thing or two about patching up injuries too.”

“…” Julian sighed. “As if I’ll trust you with my body!” he tried to sound as obnoxious as possible, in hopes of deterring Leonel from helping him.

What did he not expect was for blue eyes to capture his gaze. Leonel was frowning. “Please. Sit down and don’t do anything, okay?”

“…” Suddenly, this big burly inquisitor had more of a doctor’s disposition than the actual (fake) doctor. 

Julian felt incredibly tired and sat back down on the cot. The fight left him and he watched obediently while Leonel was the one to fetch water and Julian’s suitcase. “You better clean up afterward.”

Leonel had no smart-mouthed answer and instead simply conceded with a small, “I will.” Stealing the chair away from the desk, Leonel sat before Julian, starting with the left arm, he carefully used a pair of tweezers to pluck out metal sharps. With his eyes focused, lips slightly pursed, Julian thought this imbecile looked a bit more handsome when he was actually being diligent. 

Seeing him like this, Julian almost wanted to forgive the brat. But no! He couldn’t allow this overgrown man child to get away with this mess so easily! The idiot had to come along and take up Julian’s space, mess up his things while stomping around like he owned the damned place. Did Leonel not know to receive hospitality? He deserved a good spanking. 

More importantly, what was an inquisitor doing with a bluestone-powered hot plate, to begin with? Inquisitors had the ability to stunt the circulation of man provided by mage circuits and bluestones. That was likely why the hot plate went haywire in the first place, or at least Julian assumed. But there was no way of knowing for sure now, now that the machine had been blown to bits by Leonel’s carelessness.

While Julian hadn’t met many inquisitors in his lifetime, he knew that it wasn’t normal for their ilk to be willing to use anything powered by bluestones. 

Compared to mages, bluestone-powered devices were better tolerated by the Divine Light. However, they were by no means welcoming of this technology. It seemed strange that an inquisitor would not only look the other way when confronted by these bluestone-powered devices but go as far as an attempt to use one.

Strange.

Perhaps Leonel didn’t care about bluestone or blueiron and only despised mages. He didn’t strike Julian as a religious zealot either. People tended to join the Inquisition for those two main reasons; they were either extremely devout to the Divine Light, or they just really wanted to kill some mages. After all, being an inquisitor wasn’t the most sought-after career choice.

The more Julian thought about it, the more curious he became. And the more he thought, the further his anger would soothe. He sighed, not so willing to forgive Leonel so easily, and decided it was best to start plotting on ways of reprimanding the brat as soon as possible.

Revenge will be had, and Leonel needed to be taught a lesson.