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Wellid, Descendant of Wellen


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Do we know if Wellid is Wellen's descendant, or is this just a callback for the laughs?

WoA Ch 43:


Mist duty, they called it.

Every soldier had to take his turn, standing in the dark with a sputtering torch. Someone had to watch. Had to stare into those shifting, deceitful mists and wonder if anything was out there. Watching.

Wellen knew there was.

He knew it, but he never spoke. Soldiers laughed at such superstitions. They had to go out in the mists. They were used to it. They knew better than to fear it.


“Hey,” Jarloux said, stepping up to the edge of the wall. “Wells, do you see something out there?”

Of course he didn’t. They stood with several dozen others on the perimeter of Keep Hasting, watching from the outer keep wall—a low fortification, perhaps fifteen feet tall, that surrounded the grounds. Their job was to look for anything suspicious in the mists.

“Suspicious.” That was the word they used. It was all suspicious. It was mist. That shifting darkness, that void made of chaos and hatred. Wellen had never trusted it. They were out there. He knew.

Something moved in the darkness. Wellen stepped back, staring into the void, his heart beginning to flutter, hands beginning to sweat as he raised his spear.

HoA Ch 52:


Wellen leaned against his spear, watching those mists again. Rittle—his companion guard—said they weren’t dangerous. But, Rittle hadn’t seen what they could do. What they could reveal. Wellen figured that he had survived because he respected them. That, and because he didn’t think too hard about the things he had seen.

“You think Skiff and Jaston will be late to relieve us again?” Wellen asked, trying again to start a conversation.

Rittle just grunted. “Dunno, Wells.” Rittle never did care for small talk.

“I think maybe one of us should go see,” Wellen said, eyeing the mist. “You know, ask if they’ve come in yet . . .” He trailed off.

Something was out there.

Lord Ruler! he thought, cringing back. Not again!

TLM Ch 69:


It had taken Wellid far too long to decide he hated the ocean.

He had volunteered for this duty—sailing the Pewternaut A16 from Bilming to Elendel—because he’d figured it would be the safest. On a giant ship made of steel? The biggest the world had ever seen? Protected by the thick hull from enemy bullets?

He figured that at least—once the war started—he’d be aboard the most indestructible ship ever built. Yes, they were going to engage Elendel, but he’d prefer that to being in Bilming where that crazy lawman swooped around.

But now here he was, the familiar glow of Bilming retreating in the distance. Ordered to keep watch on the deck as they steamed across the choppy waters. Keep watch for what? There was nothing out here but churning froth and mist. They were even cutting lights on the ship, now that they were out of the bay and beyond any other vessels they might hit.

He’d thought that sailing out on the ocean would be serene, but not tonight. The crash of waves, the thrum of engines. And other … phantom noises from out there somewhere. Splashes that didn’t match the flow of the water. Distant screeches that might have been gulls. Only what gull screeched at night?

Spooked by the sounds, he slid open the hood on his lantern. Unfortunately, that just lit up the mists—making a blazing halo around Wellid. He couldn’t make out much of the waters; the ship’s deck was pretty high up in the air. When he’d signed on, he hadn’t realized how intimidating it would be to look down. It was like he was atop a three-story building, the water all the way below.

“What are you doing?” a harsh voice said from behind. Gabria? The more senior sailor took him by the arm and quickly closed the lantern’s hood. “Didn’t you hear the order? Once we’re out of the bay, we’re running dark. Do you want Elendel to be able to target us?”

“I thought I heard something,” Wellid said, prying his arm free. “I’m on watch. Aren’t I supposed to watch for things?”

“If you hear something suspicious,” she said, “report it. Don’t open your lantern unless absolutely necessary. Didn’t you listen to the briefing?”

“Sure I did,” he said. Though his mind did tend to wander.

“Why are you wearing a life jacket?” she asked. “That wasn’t ordered.”

“I want to be safe,” he said. 


Edited by Treamayne
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