The quiet comfort of sleep is a luxury only a few can afford. Xasne, as a trained practitioner in the art of snoozing till the day ends, knows this sort of calm to be unmatched. A rarity in their lives, despite its odd simplicity. The things she'd pay for days like this, to relax without a care in the world. He's like a giant comforter, if comforters were big, stoic men. Luckily, she didn't have to pay for anything.
His grumbles are the songs she sleeps to, his hair the perfect pillow. The cold crisp air only serves to send her nuzzling deeper into his locks, taking in his warmth with glee as she took deep breaths of the lavender-scented shampoo he swore to never use because it was emasculating.
In this very moment of zen, there is nothing she could ask for.
Which is her mistake. She should've asked not to be flung into a painting headfirst, and into the cold hard wall behind it right after.
Pain replaces peace as she flies headfirst, the aged stone crumbling underneath the combined weight of a bumbling orc and a gorgon whose rage only grows by the second. The violent sleep of reason takes over as she tumbles onto the dusty floor, forgotten, crashing into a pile of half-chewed cans of beans. Dazed, she and her snakes sneeze the dust cloud around her away. She caresses a bump on her forehead, growing more awake with each passing second.
The room before her is, for a lack of a better word, forgotten. Dust coats what surface isn't covered in aluminum junk. Its furnishings are disheveled; books litter the floor, broken knickknacks are strewn about, shelves barely hang from the walls with man-sized holes broken into them. Hidden from the world, the only audience the room appears to have had is time, a stowaway, and them three. Her, the man before her, and the jar of salt he seems enthralled to stare at.
In a breath, a conduit for a rage appears, mightier than any being to ever live. Her body shakes in barely contained fury, every atom in her body crying out in wrath. Her brows furrow, her fingers clench, her teeth grit. Walking through the fog of soot akin to an angel of war, she moves at Rex with impetus in her veins, fist raised at him as he turns at her, wide-eyed in fear.
"Rex, you-"
An ear-shattering boom cuts her words off. The castle shakes from its very core, sending them stumbling onto the floor as the stone struggles to keep upright, stout against the impacts that follow.
They stare at each other in confusion while they work to seize their balance, the same thought running through their heads. A thought answered right after.
Noise surges from within. Windows burst, sending shards of glass flying through the air. Wind blasts through the halls, upsetting the peaceful Castle Alteria. A roar primal, unhinged and guttural, echoes out. The vile scent of mana corrupted permeates in the air, flowing like tar.
Rex's fearful gaze fades away, shifting into stoic focus in an instant. Gone is the man she loves, in its place the warrior she fights alongside. With no hesitation, he scoops up both jar and wife, holding them close to his chest as he exits the secret room. Heavy thuds follow the thickening stench, its twisted scent sending them retracing their footsteps deeper into the shattered arcades.
While Rex exudes with courageous conviction, a lump forms in Xasne's throat. Being a mage herself, it is only right to fear what is to come. This malevolence in the air could only mean a few things, and none of them spell old age. Have assassins come to lop off their heads, having summoned beasts from the void beyond the horizon? Did a leyline burst, turning what air they breathe into slow-acting poison?
"We're here."
A sigh escapes her as she looks at him, then at the kitchen door they hide behind. Their adventure has led them back to where they started, if where they started had someone snarling and scratching just past the mahogany.
"You stay, I go," Rex says, grumbling, setting her softly on the ground before handing her his precious jar.
Xasne looks up to him, a soft smile on her face. "If you die, I'm killing you."
"I'd like to see you try." Looking down, returning her smile with a grin of his own. Sucking in a breath, Rex steels his nerves and turns, sending the door bursting open with a mighty kick.
She stares, wide-eyed, at what awaits him. Her body shivers, toes curling and teeth grinding at the sight.
A mighty beast, at Rex's grand entry, snarls, revealing its sun-colored teeth and beady black eyes. Its deep-brown flesh shimmers beneath the rays seeping through a broken window, barely held together by magic. Sinews ebb and flow underneath the paper-thin skin, seeping past various scars that line its body and staining the floor with its wicked essence. Veins pulse along its body, all coalescing into the heart on its chest.
Exposed to the world, it beats with fervor, its delicately toasted crust pumping mana through the beast. Fumes of coffee-scented fog shoot from the monster's pores, its body at the ready to pounce at the man before it.
"IT WAS YOU!"
Both fighters are caught off-guard by the sudden outburst, turning to a fuming set of snakes glaring at them both. What fight they had in them dissipates, with fear instead turning their will to stone.
With the grace of an M1 Garand, Xasne flings the jar at the bagel-heart-thing, shattering its container and sending its contents showering all over the coffee beast.
Then it fucking explodes.
In the rain of monster guts and gore, Rex rubs his neck and averts his gaze.
"I forgot to tell you that the coffee was off…"
"You- I- Wha- Hrrrng."
Xasne's face met her palm as her snakes hiss at Rex while he busies himself with twiddling his thumbs and staring at the ceiling.
"Do you want to get a burger?"
He didn't wait for her answer, instead scooping up the grumpy wife and placing her on his head.
It's definitely a burger for breakfast day.
---
Xasne bites into her burger like there's no tomorrow, still glaring at the big buffoon seated in front of her.
"You owe me a massage," she says through mouthfuls of hogmeat.
"I guess I do."
"You know you do."
"Yes..."
Rex sighs, taking a handful of fries and shoving them down his maw.
"I love you."
The woman grumbles, crossing her arms and puffing her cheeks. "You're stupid and you're sleeping on the couch today.
"It seems there's no averting his fate today.