☠Bellona Viellana☠
Value is a difficult concept to understand.
Bellona Viellana knows the definition of the word, knows what is important to her and to those with whom she is close, and knows how everyone else values different things depending on so many other variables. Everything is relevant and reliant on everything else, that much is certain. But still, value is intricate and made of gossamer strings, each one thinner and more tangled than the last.
Off her neck hangs a locket—her most valued possession. On the outside of the locket, on the front side, there are her initials side-by-side of her family plantation's seal; on the back side, there is a single x, indicative of her district number. On the inside, to the left, there is a picture of her parents, both with their arms around each other; to the left, there is an image of her twin brothers, of her Nox and Maize, with matching smirks and quirked eyebrows.
Family, that is what—who—she values most.
To her, they mean more than land and money; they mean more than every treasure the vast universe has in its possession. To her, they mean more than she does, and she would do anything for and because of them.
She considers herself a good people-reader, able to discern their morals and wants, their true emotions hiding behind fronts and mental walls, but sometimes, she finds people to be inscrutable. Of those people, Orville Stud and Corradhin Cole are the most extreme examples.
Time is a fluid thing in the arena, so she can't recall how long, exactly, she's been in the presence of Orville. Sometimes, it feels like years: she's so accustomed to his comments and his humor, it's almost as if they've been running in fields together since they were growing up. Other times, it feels like minutes: he'll do something out of character, or he'll suggest something absurd—even for him—and it's as if he's a new person altogether.
No, Bellona doesn't know much about him, and she doubts she ever will.
Corradhin's case is a little similar, but she's cracked him down. She doesn't know him in his entirety—she's sure even he doesn't—but he has slipped a few times. These occurrences are few and far in between, and she appreciates each of these moments. Sometimes, when they're both falling asleep, he'll mutter something, his voice so low, she wants to think it's because the moment is to be between only them, not the rest of the world. Though it's part of it, she knows it's mostly because if Orville catches a whiff of these words, he'll be more relentless than he already is.
She hasn't figured Corradhin out, not the way she did Beckett and Anastasia within a few days, but he's Corradhin for a reason. Bellona has accepted this, mostly, though she won't deny her own persistence.
Either way, whether she knows them as they exist or as they truly are, she knows some of them—that's more than enough.
Interrupting her own thoughts, she starts drumming her fingers on her thighs, hearing as the noise echoes throughout the cavern walls. Though a light sound, the moss eats most of it, and some still travels, reaching Corradhin and Orville, both who contribute in their own way. Orville snaps his fingers and Corradhin simply nods his head, but it adds a bit to Bellona's drumming and humming.
By the time she's done with her little song, they've reached a new area of caves they haven't seen before. The moss here is thicker than expected, her fingers unable to touch the surface of the rock, and the room is more open than the rest.
Bellona breaks formation and walks straight to the middle of the room, where two walls stand erected, acting like some sort of entrance or exit. She knocks on them, thinking maybe they'll glow and give them a mission, but nothing happens. There is no reaction, other than Corradhin telling her to be more cautious.
