Downtime in Naarajärvi

Eevi’s smile faded as David spoke, his story resonating with her in a way that she hadn’t expected. She had always thought of herself as a hardened soul, untouchable by the kind of emotional ties that could bring others down. But Taavi... Taavi was different, and it scared her how much she hated the thought of losing him. She knew how close she was to walking that same path David had described, a path of endless hunting, a void of purpose without someone to tether her back to humanity.

She felt the tension between them rise as David readied himself, his hand hovering over his revolver. Her leg screamed in agony, her body worn and fragile, but she wasn’t going to back down. Not now. Not ever.

The word hung in the air.

"Draw."

And like lightning, David moved first, his hand a blur as he fanned the hammer and fired. Eevi saw it all happen in slow motion, her body frozen as the realization hit her: she couldn’t stop him in time. She couldn’t get the shot off. She had lost.

But the sound wasn’t what she expected.

Instead of the dull, sickening thud of a bullet striking flesh, there was a sharp clang of metal deflecting metal. Her eyes widened as she saw Taavi—no, White Glint—standing in front of her, his armor absorbing the shot that was meant for her.

Her heart clenched, an unfamiliar wave of emotions crashing through her. Relief, anger, gratitude, frustration—too many things to process all at once. She had tried to stand on her own, to prove something to herself, to Taavi, and now here he was, putting himself in harm’s way again. For her.

"Damn you..." she muttered under her breath, barely able to contain the mixture of fury and something else entirely. "Why do you keep doing this...?"

Her hand twitched, still in the shape of a finger pistol, ready to fire. But she hesitated. Not because she couldn’t shoot, but because she realized that maybe...just maybe...this wasn’t the fight she needed to win. Maybe Taavi was the only one who could win this battle, not just with violence, but also by forcing her to face something she had been avoiding for far too long.

Her shot remained ready, but she didn’t "pull" the trigger. Not yet. For once it seemed, she would have to wait and watch the show unfold.

"Because I care about you, Eevi. Even if you don't think you deserve it," Taavi stood in his pure white power armor, the .45 Long Colt bullet hardly having even made a dent in his armor. "Whatever you tell yourself, you don't have to shoulder everything in your life alone. And even if you don't think you need my help, I want to help you. For both of us."

"Huh..." David started. "Clever little sneak. How long were you eavesdroppin'?"

The blue visor glowed with intensity as Taavi looked David in the eye, growing brighter. "Long enough, cowboy. Long enough."

"You remind me of who I was tryin' to be so long ago...a family man," David said. "A proper man who would work himself into the grave for his wife and daughter. What did I end up even before I lost them? A drunk hung up on when he killed his brother because they fought for opposin' armies."

"The American Civil War..."

"My big brother was Fed. I was Confed. I killed him in the Battle of Shiloh," David confirmed. "Couldn't stop drinkin'. I remember the bruises I gave my wife while drunk. I regret it every day, but there ain't no way I can make up for it. So, I keep goin' till I drop."

"I understand. I'm still going to stand up for Eevi, but I understand," Taavi said, before taking a few steps over, so that there was a 60 degree angle's difference between him and Eevi.

"Well...if we're gonna do this thing, we'd better do it right," David said, spinning his revolver before holstering it. In time, the two put some distance between themselves and Eevi, until she was the perfect observer of the duel between the two new contenders. A war deserter-turned-outlaw-turned bounty hunter versus a three-time war veteran and mercenary. Both are hardened people that held a lot of pain under their steel hearts - one of whom found purpose in life with a whole town under his care, and the other knowing nothing else but killing.

"In the off-chance that you kill me for good..." David said. "I want one thing to be remembered."

"And that is?" Taavi questioned.

"In the Second World War, Operation Valkyrie was a success, but they bagged a double of the most evil man to ever live. The guy who bit into cyanide in Berlin was also a double. I bagged the real deal in a countryside office the year before. Last thing he saw before lookin' down the barrel of my gun was an Uncle Sam poster," David said. "Most lucrative bounty I had ever taken - and I'd also hoped it would have brought the war in Europe to a close. I underestimated how far the fanaticism had spread. The rest - as they say - is history."

"You did good..." Taavi said.

"No...I didn't. I just removed evil. It's all I'm good for," David said, and an unspoken acknowledgement passed between the two professionals as ten meters stood between them.

"Draw."

Quickdraw was first to draw, but White Glint had the faster reaction speed. In a dizzying array of flash-steps, every bullet still left in Quickdraw's cylinder narrowly missed before Taavi returned fire, a .45 ACP round lodging itself  into David's arm. A zip up close, and Taavi swiped David's lever-action before planting the .45-70 round into his back. Staggering forward, David looked down at the gaping wound that barely missed his heart and shrugged before falling over.

When QuickDraw finally fell, it was over.

Eevi stood there for a moment, processing everything that had just happened, her leg throbbing from the strain she’d put on it earlier. She wanted to scream, to curse the world for making her feel this way. She had always relied on herself, never needing anyone, never allowing anyone to care. Yet here she was, watching a man—someone she barely understood but somehow deeply connected to—fight for her, for reasons she couldn’t fully comprehend.

With QuickDraw’s body lying motionless, the adrenaline that had been keeping her upright began to wane, and Eevi found herself leaning against a nearby tree for support. The pain in her leg flared, and she grit her teeth, refusing to show any sign of weakness, not now. Not after all of this.

“You didn’t have to,” she finally muttered, though her voice lacked its usual bite. Her eyes flicked up to Taavi, the white armor still gleaming against the snow, now splattered with QuickDraw’s blood. “I didn’t ask you to…”

She didn’t know how to thank him. Didn’t know if she even wanted to. All she knew was that something in her had shifted. Taavi had thrown his lot in with her, had faced down a man like David Crenshaw—not out of obligation, but because, for some reason, he cared.

That thought unsettled her more than any duel ever could.

"No. I didn't have to. But I wanted to," Taavi said, before looking over his shoulder at Quickdraw. His eyes were keen enough to know that the regenerating Meta was feigning death. Crouching over the regenerating bounty hunter, he gave a chilling warning that contrasted with the warmth with which he spoke to Eevi.

"A deal's a deal, Crenshaw," he whispered to Quickdraw. "You go on and piss off - and don't make me regret missing your heart. Try for Eevi again, and I'll dismember you before killing you."

As he stood, Taavi shook the shortened lever-action in his hand, walking toward Eevi. "Victor's spoils," Taavi said to Eevi.

"You undid the bandaging..." Taavi said as he looked at Eevi's leg. She was still bleeding badly. "I've got you. Let's get you back to town before frostbite sets in."

He was not in the mood to be struggling with Eevi. He got a tourniquet on her leg before lifting her in his arms. His suit was rather cool, but even the trace levels of heat it emitted was an improvement over exposure to the snow. In full armor, his strength bordered on full-on superhuman - even if the adrenaline hadn't exited Eevi's system, she had little chance of breaking free. Although, in fairness, she was probably too tired and confused to bother fighting back against Taavi carrying her.

"Time to go home, Eevi," he trailed as he carried her off to town.

On the ground, Quickdraw got Taavi's warning loud and clear. And he considered what Eevi had said. Perhaps...

Perhaps he could let this one target go. It certainly didn't undermine the other hundreds of successes he had.

I get the feeling the world is going to get a lot more interesting if White Glint is able to change you...catch you on the flip-side, Inkwell...

Eevi winced as Taavi tightened the tourniquet around her leg, the pain sharp but manageable compared to the growing numbness in her extremities. She disliked being this vulnerable, even more so when it was Taavi carrying her—especially because it was Taavi. Her body was too weak to struggle, and her mind too clouded by the relentless burning in her leg and the emotional mess she found herself in. Yet, as much as she loathed the situation, there was a strange, begrudging acceptance settling in. Taavi wasn't just some bystander; he was determined to stand by her, even if she thought it was foolish.

The irony wasn’t lost on her. Here she was, the infamous Inkwell, unable to fight off the help she had sworn to resist. She had been so sure that Taavi was making a mistake by involving himself, by offering her a lifeline, but now she wasn't sure anymore. His warmth—both physical and emotional—seeped into her consciousness, disarming her in a way no one else had managed in years.

"You don’t have to keep doing this," she muttered, her voice weak and laced with frustration. She wasn’t used to relying on anyone, and the fact that it was him of all people grated at her pride.

He didn’t respond immediately, just kept walking, his grip firm but not painful. The quiet hum of his suit was oddly calming, a contrast to the storm of thoughts swirling in her head. She tried to focus on something, anything other than the way her heart seemed to twist uncomfortably in her chest at the thought of how much he cared.

"Why do you even...?" Her words trailed off, not even sure what she was asking. Why did he care? Why wouldn’t he just leave her to deal with her own mess? She wasn’t worth it—she’d never been worth it. Not to anyone. Yet, he stayed. He always stayed.

As they made their way back to town, the cold air biting at her exposed skin, Eevi let her eyes flutter closed for a moment. She was too tired to fight anymore, too confused by the mix of emotions that Taavi stirred in her. Maybe, just this once, she could allow herself to trust someone else with her survival. Just for this walk back to town at least.

"Why do I do it...is it comradery? A sense of kinship? On a whim? Maybe...but that doesn't sound like me..."

No one asked questions when Taavi came back with her. There was an unspoken understanding that the issue had been taken care of. Astrid gave a brief look of curiosity as Taavi and Eevi passed by, but held her tongue and returned back to her home. A bit of envy went through her mind at how tenderly Taavi treated the stranger, when he had known her for five years now. Sure, Astrid and Taavi got off to a rocky start...

Bad choice of words, but she got better toward him. Didn't he notice? Astrid would have been lying if she said she had never fantasized about anything. She had. In addition to her papa being around, she had fantasized that someday, rather than scaring a man off, she would have her first kiss, and she'd be lying if she said that Taavi's face wasn't in her thoughts. But she knew it was impossible; he was married to his job as the town's mercenary.

Not so hard, however, that he didn't pay attention to Eevi.

What the Hell was going through her mind? What was this feeling in her chest? Like her heart had turned into a rock and started sinking? Was this what people called "guilt"?

At the medical center, the doctor cleaned Eevi's injuries and reapplied bandaging. And this time, she was insistent that Eevi no longer strain herself unnecessarily. Taavi began coughing hard again, but the attack was short-lived. Still, it was hard enough that the staff had difficulty stomaching the image of blood - both fresh and dried with flecks of black - staining his white gauntlet. Everyone was thankful that Taavi's condition wasn't contagious. Still, he put his lungs under quite a bit of stress rushing to reach the duel site before Eevi got there.

So, Taavi was given a similar dressing down about stressing himself before his treatments could take full effect. He took the doctor's scolding without a single complaint. He was urged to at least wait until the next checkup before putting himself into a combat situation again. As for Eevi, she was told that the bandages should be good to come off in a few days, but that the bone and muscle soreness would require anti-inflammatory medications. She put in the prescription for the town's local pharmacy and gave the pair the green light to leave.

Taavi would accompany Eevi to the pharmacy before heading off to have his armor removed. Over the next few days, the town would gradually calm down from the anxiety that Quickdraw's appearance had caused. Taavi - for his part - was silently hoping that the bounty hunter would stay true to his word.

The next day...

The early morning light filtered through the curtains as Eevi sat at the small table, pen in hand, staring down at the blank paper before her. The quiet stillness of Naarajärvi had always been something of a comfort—its silence so unlike the chaotic life she had known before—but now it felt suffocating. She needed to leave, needed to cut ties before the things she had been feeling took root, and before she became even more vulnerable.

"Why do I do it?" she had asked herself the night before, as exhaustion and painkillers dragged her into a restless sleep. The answer hadn't come to her immediately, but the more she mulled it over, the clearer it became.

It wasn’t out of kinship or comradery. She had never been one to trust easily, and certainly never one to stay anywhere for long. The fact that she was even considering these people anything other than a temporary respite disturbed her more than she was willing to admit.

But... Taavi. He had complicated things. Made her question her instincts. And she did not know that she could change and live with that.

The pen hovered over the paper as her thoughts tangled in her mind. She had always been better at running than explaining herself, and right now, explaining was the last thing she wanted to do. But a part of her, small and uncomfortable, nagged at her to leave something behind. Just... something.

The ink bled onto the paper as she began to write:

I'm leaving. Don't follow. This was always temporary. Take care of yourselves. I am sorry but I will still send money from my work, a deal's a deal, -E.

She stared at the short note for a moment, wondering if it said enough or too little. Did it matter? No, it didn’t. It wasn’t about them; it was about her. Folding the paper, she placed it on the table, weighed down by a small glass, so it wouldn’t blow away before someone found it.

Her small bag was already packed—she hadn’t accumulated much during her time here. It was easier that way, keeping things light.

As dawn crept over the horizon, Eevi gave one last glance around the quiet space she had deceived herself into calling home for a short moment. Then, without a second thought, she slung the bag over her shoulder and stepped out into the cold, still streets of Naarajärvi.

Her footsteps were the only sound in the silent morning, and with each step, the knot in her chest loosened, if only just a little.

She didn’t belong here.

She never had.

Later on, the knock came at the door to Eevi's apartment. Taavi stood outside, waiting for the answer. When nothing came, he procured a spare key from the landlord to look inside. It was empty. Only a note was set under a glass. As Taavi read through it, something in him sunk. This was a feeling he hadn't felt since his wife passed away: unparalleled loss.

There was a sense of loss that he had long forgotten - the one person left alive that he could relate to had left it. Crumpling the paper in his hand, he could only wonder to himself why she would return to such a life. Stubborn as he was, he couldn't let it end like this. Almost as if in response to his mental turmoil, his cough came back and kicked him good. The coughing attack was hard enough to send him doubling over, staining the carpeting red with his blood.

Blood decorated the paper, and suddenly, it all came to him. He was a colossal idiot - you don't get to live by the gun and expect good things to accompany it. At the end, he deserved his life alone. Fate hated him and wanted him to suffer. And perhaps that was fine...for as long as it lasted. The despair that he had shaken off over the past five years was back with full force.

Perhaps killing was all he was good for until he passed. With his time whittled down to mere years and the woman that became most important to him gone, he became self-destructive in the coming days. He actively sought out contracts with a sizeable advance pay with an extremely high risk to his life.

This was his purpose: to live for the money and to die pointlessly.

He left a note, too, in the off-chance that she ever visited again. And he left it with the landlord, only to be opened if he failed to return from a mission.

It was on to the next sortie...his raison de'tere.

A few days after Eevi’s departure, a letter arrived at Taavi’s doorstep. Unlike the others, it bore no grandiosity, no weight of a job or contract. It was simple, wrapped in an envelope with only a number inside with the letter.

Opening the note to reveal its contents, one would find the following: a note, brief but heavy, and a phone number. The number stood out like a scar across the paper, as if branded there with a message to linger long after the ink had dried. The words on the note were raw and unpolished, unlike the composed, cold assassin he had grown used to.

“Taavi,” the letter began.

“By the time you read this, I’ll have already left Naarajärvi for good. But I didn’t want to disappear without saying… well, something. You’re someone I can’t just leave behind without a few final words, no matter how much I hate what this feeling is doing to me.

When you’re ready to go after Skadi, use the number. But it only works once. No guarantees, no second chances. One call. I’ll be there when you are.

But if you’re coming for me, if you’ve decided to hunt me for whatever bounty’s on my head—do me the courtesy of a warning, just one last call. Because as much as I’ve fought it, you’re someone I love. It’s a feeling I’ve buried, fought against, and smothered because I’m not meant for it. I don’t get to feel this, to have this, but here it is, refusing to die.

So, call me, Taavi. Call me if you’re coming, and I’ll know it’s you. The one person I still care about. The one person I still want to survive this nightmare of a life we both lead.

I wish you peace, though we both know we’re in a fight neither of us will keep on winning forever. You’ve got a village, people who’ll remember you. They’ll be grateful for you, and when your end comes, they’ll mourn you. They’ll honor you. Me? I’ll be remembered only for the violence I brought with me. My end will be the fitting one for someone like me. Violent, bloody, and forgotten by all but the world’s rage.

Once, you told me that you failed a small nobody-village named Metsäjärvi. Well, if there is any absolution you can be granted by me then I give you it. You saved me, for a time, and doing so redeemed this perceived failure you hold onto yourself. Everyone in that village would thank you now on my behalf and not a one would blame you for this, not a one.

Someone once said to me I have never truly lived for anything ever since the loss of that life. They were right. I exist job to job fueling whatever desires suit my needs at the time. I’m going to change that soon, very soon. I cannot give away to you who it will be, but when I come for them it will be my own decision just because I wanted to, no job or pay behind it. And when I come for them there will be no force of man capable of stopping it once it’s in play. If you find the need before I do this to stop me to save this world from that chaos, then I welcome it with open arms from the man I love.

I hope you find your peace. My end won’t have that. But yours could.

Goodbye, Taavi.”

There was no signature, just the cold silence of words that echoed off the page.

Some time and a few months after "Cat Hunt" and any other outstanding threads...

The call came in, beginning with a heartfelt message, but then came business.

"Eevi. I'm seeking partners for a mission I've accepted. But first, let me get some sentiments out of the way. I've thought about your message every day. These past few months, I've been burying myself in my profession, taking advance pay, charging extortionate fees so that the town will have something left when I pass - contracts where the possibility I would die is nearly guaranteed, yet I overcome the odds and come back alive. After you left, I sometimes find myself looking down the barrel of my own rifle - it felt about as bad as when my wife passed. There's something I never got around to telling you - before we met, I lived my life on lease. Fear of death was something I never thought I would feel again. And then I find another survivor of the Winter War - someone who truly understood. Someone who needed to be saved from despair, like I was. Someone who is my mirror; a reminder of what I could have been. For the first time in a long time...I feel afraid. Afraid that I'll pass while you still need me.

"So," The message went on through the contact number. "It's only fair I return the favor. I don't just care about you. I love you. I wish I could say I'm proud of you, too. But I'm not. What you continue to do, I can't support. But contrary to what you might think, I'm not giving up on you. While you were gone, I had another run in with the undead - took another hit. I'd hoped to keep you safe from the Lich Queen by keeping you out of things - she really wants you as her right hand and took it out on me when I refused to hunt you down for her. My condition is getting worse, and I may be dead before the year is over. I refused to turn on you. Do you know why? Somebody once told me some sage advice. A person is what they choose to be. It's not how they're born born, or how they're raised, or even what they've endured, that makes the person. It's their choices. Right now, you're choosing to walk down a dark path I can't condone. But you can turn your life around with a single thought, a single decision. You can always choose to be something new - I believe that you can, just like I did. Never forget that; even if you're condemned by the world, you can still pass with a fresh conscience. Don't get yourself killed for pride or pleasure; it's cost too many lives in my time already.

"Now that the sentiment is out of the way, it's down to business," the message continued, emotion suppressed into pure professionalism. "The mission is from Finland's government. A scouting team has suggested that Skadi is going to try for another score - and it's possible she'll be in the mix herself. I'm being hired to accompany a joint military force of Finland, Sweden, and Norway, to oversee the collapse of several passes from the North Pole region to buy time to evacuate the civilians of the norther reaches. All three countries have chipped in to hire me, but I can't do it alone. So, I've decided to ask you for backup. Payment will be in the amount of two billion Euros to be split evenly between us - it will be enough to keep Naarajärvi afloat until they find a new breadwinner.

"That's the short version of the briefing...the undead army is expected to mobilize in five days' time. I'll be forced to go it alone if you're not here by then," the message concluded, interrupted by a hacking and long-drawn out cough. "If there's any loose ends you want to tie up with me and the town, now's the time. That's it. No flowery speeches from me; I'm not a politician. I look forward to hearing your answer."

Eevi listened to the message in silence, her eyes fixed on the horizon as the voice of Taavi echoed through the phone. The warmth of his heartfelt words tugged at something deep inside her, a place she had buried beneath years of violence, blood, and survival. His love, his plea for her to change... it was a foreign concept to her. Someone loving her? Someone caring about her enough to risk their life, to defy a powerful lich to protect her? It didn't make sense. It shouldn't.

Her mind raced as he spoke of his failing health, the looming threat of the undead army, and the mission that awaited. Two billion euros. A fortune. But that wasn't what gnawed at her. It was his words. A person is what they choose to be. His belief that she could still change, that she could turn her life around.

But could she? Could someone like her, who had lived in shadows, spilled blood for money, and buried any trace of compassion or conscience, really find a way back?

Taavi’s voice crackled through the phone again, reminding her of the timeline. Five days. The North Pole. An undead army. She took a long breath, her gaze hardening. She didn’t need time to think about this. She had already made her choice the moment she heard his voice.

No. This wasn’t about the money, or the mission, or even the town. It was about Taavi. The one person who had seen through her, who had refused to give up on her even when she had given up on herself.

Without another thought, she sent a brief message back.

“I’ll be there in two days.”

She tossed the phone into her bag, her mind already set on the path ahead. This wasn’t about redemption. It wasn’t about pride. It was about standing by the one person who still believed in her, even when she didn’t believe in herself.

Two days...Taavi prayed to whatever deity that may have been listening to him that he survived until then. Since Eevi left, Taavi had been putting overtime into his work. Contract after contract, with very little time to recover in between. And all the injuries had a way of adding up, to the point where many of the townspeople wonder how he's even still standing.

By and large, Taavi had neglected his appearance since Eevi left - not that he had a sense of vanity to begin with. His stubble had grown almost entirely into a beard, split by a deep gash on the right side of his jawline. A vertical scar split his left eyebrow and cheek. He also smelled strongly of alcohol.

He wandered the streets of Naarajärvi before an intense coughing fit hit him.

"Mister Virtanen," a voice he recognized started. He only heard it once, but it was easy to recognize. This must have been the moment that Compassion had referred to. "Are you alright?

"Ah...never better," Taavi said after hearing his throat. "Passing through again?"

"I could sense you needed help," Compassion said. "I apologize it took me this long to get to you. There are many who needed the comfort I offer."

Taavi got hit with another coughing fit. Compassion, with a strength that belied her small frame, kept him from falling to the ground and instead eased him onto a nearby bench.

"What's wrong?"

"Well...I'm dying, Compassion," Taavi said. "Accelerated cell death. I got it fighting a lich...for the sake of a woman I love. The same one we talked about months ago. I guess it's been a long time coming for the bad life I've lived."

"All humans have lived bad lives, Mister Virtanen. All sin," Compassion said. "But I know you..."

"You don't know me..." Taavi scoffed.

"Forgive me, but I think this is the problem: you don't know yourself. Not as well as you think," Compassion said.

"What do you mean?" Taavi asked.

"I've watched you for a long time. Whenever I do, you're always helping people with a smile on your face. The deeds you do as a mercenary...You may not be a good man, Mister Virtanen, but you're not all bad, either," Compassion said.

"Heh...I had a son, Compassion. He got killed in the riots after Martin Luther King Junior was assassinated. My wife died from grief a few years later," Taavi said. "My best friend passed away from age twenty-eight years ago, while I was stuck looking like this."

"The brother I knew gave into despair a long time. Seeing what he's become is like a knife to my heart. Existence is full of pain," Compassion trailed. "But that's what makes the love and beauty in it worth striving for."

"Well, what am I going to do now?" Taavi asked with a sigh.

"Be grateful that for the first time, you see your life clearly. There's a freedom to knowing the end is near - the freedom to reflect," Compassion said.

"I guess..."

"Perhaps you could help someone. Helping brings you joy, and encourages goodness in other people," Compassion said.

"I'm not sure if I believe in goodness in other people," Taavi said.

"Often I find myself doubting it, like you do. But then, I meet someone like you, and my faith is restored," Compassion said. "It took me too long to understand that, for as weak as the efforts to bring good to this world may seem, the efforts often echo for generations - even centuries. More so than evil."

"You're too smart for me, Compassion," Taavi said with a laugh. "I guess that...now that I found someone to live for...I'm more afraid of my impending demise than ever before."

"There's nothing to afraid of, Mister Virtanen," Compassion said. "Take a gamble that love can redeem, and do a loving act."

With a grunt, Taavi got onto his feet, saying, "I shall try..."

Compassion joined him with a smile and a hand on his chest, her healing powers easing his symptoms. Regrettably, Compassion lacked the power to turn back time on his body. She couldn't undo what Skadi had already done to him, but she could make his last days more bearable. And she briefly considered making him one of her Ascendants. She decided against it - he wasn't in the right state of mind for it. Not since Eevi left.

"I know you will," Compassion said. "Wherever you may end up, I'll be there, comforting your soul, Mister Virtanen. Until next time."

"Ma'am," Taavi respectfully bid farewell to Compassion, watching as she walked off, the winter wind against her pale skin. She seemed to fade away, going intangible in a cloud of stardust before disappearing completely.

A loving act... Taavi thought. There was any number of things he could do with the time that remained. Revise his Last Will, help the town get supplies to last the winter. The ultimate act of love was described in the Bible. If he was going to die regardless, he would make it count for something...