POV: Syreene
Location: Louxven, Dyonegar
Moments after...
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Midnight. The antique wall clock ticked as seconds turned into minutes, minutes to hours. Syreene sunk her head back into the couch cushion with her book as she stared down the front door. Her mind started to wander—still no sign of him. With all that money Herith was making with Ghryzite mining, she'd think the King would share the wealth with the less fortunate districts of Khor, enough to at least supply direct-line portable devices. She could call the military, but the emergency hotline wouldn't dispatch her directly to her brother. Hence, why she must resort to this tireless waiting.
Syreene had never agreed to her brother's life in the military, yet he was persistent in that route being the only one available to him after The Falling. They were homeless and orphaned, and Cabil had just struck the qualified age to enlist. It was the only survival package available to them at the time that provided shelter, food, and a reasonable income all at once. But the longer he served their country, the further she regretted his decision. Day in and day out, she worried for Cabil's safety amid the battle stream of horde versus human. She wanted him to break free from the chaos, many nights even dreaming of another world just waiting for them beyond the horizon. He too would sing that tune, and Syreene would cling onto the possibility.
Possible? Maybe. After all, she had never crossed the boundaries of Khorgathe. There was no telling what was on the other side. For all she knew, there could just be another barren wasteland awaiting them, infested with Dessarians. She needed to be optimistic, but it was difficult to do so in the land dictated by the damned. Her chest caved in, her own distressed thoughts peeling out from her subconscious. She needed to bury the worry and focus on survival, like her brother. Her brother…
who still hadn't shown up for dinner yet…
Letting out a bothered sigh, her eyes strolled across the contemporary apartment, its soft, sleek simplicity staring back at her.
She dropped her chin on her palm, dazing at the dinner she prepared continue to cool from across the elevated living room. Her eyes then began to wander, looking up to the wide sliding screen door. Beyond the floor table and bamboo cushions, those doors led to the apartment balcony, also known as Cabil's smoke spot. Every weekend morning, Cabil would sit out there before sunrise, with his little garden in the sky, and a bud to his lips, closing himself off in solitude. Syreene would always study him, tucked behind the screen, stalking, wondering what her brother was musing. When he finished, a hot cup of coffee would be sitting on the kitchen island where she sat perched on the barstool with a warm smile on her face. He'd snicker, and she'd answer, Morning brother! Her dear, big brother…
Her hand folded, slamming the book to a close. Withdrawing from the sofa, she looked out the cloudy window panel, pouting at the rain starting to pour. She settled the book on the shelf, before a sudden knocking scurried her bare feet to the front door—although, it wasn't like Cabil to forget his set of keys…
She swung the door open, hand already pinned to her side. "Took you long enou—" She gasped. "Cabil!" her broken voice cried out, her bloody unconscious brother slouched over a man's shoulder. Then she stopped, holding in her breath, studying the familiar stranger.
A short silence lingered between them, along with a strange sensation of déjà vu. Mouth left agape, Syreene soaked in his appearance, from his long dirty blond hair to his towering height.
Her panic soon resigned to confusion…
She stood there gawking at him, and he the same, before her face revealed too much of her captivation. "Oh, goodness! I'm so sorry for staring." She stepped to the side, stumbling on her words, "Please, please, come in."
He bowed his head. "Oh, uhm, thank you!"
"Just rest him on the couch, I'll get some towels." Syreene closed the door behind them before she fumbled into the bathroom, and back out with a stack of fresh towels along with a bucket of lukewarm water. She kept them by her side while the man relaxed Cabil's head on the armrest. The young elf looked him over after stripping his thermal, finding no signs of any injuries on his torso. So why was he so bloody? Maybe his victim's blood?
"He was attacked by a woman in black," the clergyman said to her. "She wore a skull, masking her identity. I managed to thwart her, but not before she impaled Cabil." Her face sunk to a pale terror, but he quickly reassured her, "But with all that I could conjure, I restored his vitals and healed him. The wound from his chest sealed nicely, but he did lose a lot of blood, leaving him in this crude predicament. He just needs rest and nurturing. Cabil should be fine in no time under your care."
"I appreciate this, really. Thank you." Syreene craned her head down in guilt for kicking him out. If she hadn't been so pushy about him seeking guidance, this wouldn't have happened. Luckily, the rarest of people had an eye on him tonight, a healer at that.
"You need not thank me, Syreene." He flustered, almost choking on his words as if he'd slipped up. Quickly redeeming himself, he offered his hand in greeting, "I'm Father Narus Benoventeg. It's a pleasure meeting you!"
"Father, Narus?" Puzzled, she focused on him. Earlier, she had noticed the blade he carried on his back, the priestly garments, but the two features were so far off that she didn't challenge her assumptions. She leaned into him, her interest peaked. "From Dovve District? The clergyman with whom my brother had an appointment with?" She took his hand, beaming. "A paladin! How fortunate!"
"Heh, more or less. I carry many titles."
Syreene aided him in cleansing Cabil the best she could. He wasn't particularly heavy, weighing just under a hundred and sixty at 5'10, but he was still unconscious. The bucket of water foamed red as she squeezed out the towel, finishing up. "Seems like you need to wash up yourself," she addressed Narus with a soft snicker. "You can use the bath in my room. I'll lay out some clothes for you on the bed. I'm sure my brother wouldn't mind you borrowing his stuff after you practically saved his life." She pouted, "I just feel like this was all my fault. If I hadn't forced him to meet with you so late, he wouldn't have gotten hurt. It's just that Cabil is so stubborn, keeping everything locked up in his head all the time, and he won't talk to me about it. I thought maybe if I got him professional help, he would open up and stop being so distant sometimes."
She looked up to him with his hand over her shoulder, and he replied, "Don't burden yourself with guilt. Just be grateful he had some assistance tonight."
"I'm a little surprised actually. Cabil never brings anyone home for dinner. But I'm glad you were there with him. Cabil usually carries his own around these streets—I rarely see him come back home this beaten up."
"Heh, well, ehm—yes. Even he can drop his guard sometimes. He is only human, after all," he choked. "Don't worry. As long as you can keep him out of trouble long enough, he will heal just fine."
"I'm going to toss these in the wash. Hurry back and join me for dinner, okay?" When they parted ways, she took the towels and Cabil's top into a soaked bucket for washing. Now in her brother's room, she rummaged through his dresser and pulled out a fresh set of clothes for her guest—a long-sleeved black V neck shirt and gray fleece pants. As the long legs dangled over her arm, a set of buds dropped to the floor. She scoffed, another one of his secret hiding places exposed. Syreene tossed them out the window before she made her way down the hall.
Slipping past the ajar door, her elevated senses suddenly marked her as an amateur detective, studying her own bedroom before she cartoonishly tip toed down the maple floor. After leaving the folded clothes on the bed, she turned to exit, her little elf ears picking up the soft steps of Narus preparing to step into the shower. He mustn't have gotten in yet, given the absence of running water. Then, the butterflies. Her stomach turned to the sound of the doorknob clicking. Her face sunk, eyes engaged with both shame and excitement. As she stood there utterly frozen in her childish gesture, the topless priest walked out of her bathroom draped with only a towel around his waist.
Holy crab cakes, he's…
Absolutely captivating… so much so that she illuminated his godly wet presence with an arch of shimmering light as the steamy heat bathed his lean muscular physique. And like that, he provoked her squeaky cry. She immediately pardoned herself for such a silly act, trying to recompose herself. He too jumped, startled by her comical girly scream.
"Oh! Oh mmyyy... I mean!" Syreene broke, slapping her hands over her reddening face.
"My apologies! I didn't know you were in here," he blurted.
"My fault! Heh, heh. I didn't know you could get naked so fast." Her hands flew over her hasty lips, her body rigid with embarrassment.
"HEY!" Cabil slammed the door open, nearly knocking Syreene out in the process. His glaring bit at Narus, Syreene turning away, hiding her guilty grin. "Are you hitting on my sister, priest?"
"Cabil!" Syreene barked.
Narus jumped. "No! I would never—"
"—Cover yourself up, clergyman!" Cabil hissed, trying to hide his limp part-way out the door.
Syreene interjected, pushing them both out of her room. "So, so, sorry that I totally accidently walked in on you like that! No harm done, yes? We will give you some privacy now, Narus. Please excuse us!" She closed the door behind her, letting out a heavy sigh. Syreene glared at her brother. "Why are you even up? You should be resting!"
"Oh, did I interrupt your gawk fest?"
She blushed, biting her lip. "I was not gawking at him!" Syreene shushed her loud mouth with a finger, her eyes zipping side to side conspicuously. Cabil huffed, her cue to exit into the kitchen. "How embarrassing," she mumbled to herself, before looking up to her brother with a soft face. "Cabil, how are you feeling? Are you all right?" He gave her no answer, merely looking down at her with a flat stare as she walked to the cabinet drawers. "Do you want me to warm you up some dinner?" Her voice lightened, the utensils rattling as she fished for a set.
"I'm not hungry."
"Cabil, you haven't eaten since morning. At least let me get you som—"
Click.
He'd locked himself in his room, the dull lights beneath his door snuffed out. She stopped preparing a plate for him, feeling guilty for her foolishness, but then, Narus arrived.
He came in with obvious hesitation, and a nervous hand over his head, while Cabil's tight clothes struggled to conceal him. "My apologies. I truly didn't mean to—"
"—Don't worry about it!" she reassured, brushing off her confrontation with Cabil. "Please, sit. I'll warm you up a plate."
"Don't bother with heating my meal," he said with a smile. "I happen to have some non-traditional dining habits." He pulled out his hand, a kind gesture for her to join him as he took his seat.
She brought herself to his side, clearing her voice from the not so subtle nerves. "Please, help yourself. I hope it's not too spicy. Cabil and I love spicy food." Syreene fixed herself a plate, scanning over the assortment—grilled salmon, hot dumplings, steamed cabbage, white rice. She gave herself a proud badge of victory in noticing him diving right in with a smile.
"Mmm, simply delicious! It is a bit spicier than I'm used to, but it's certainly tasty!"
She giggled as he stuffed his face, amused by his delightful boyish expression. Syreene figured it was a better time than any to break the ice, asking him about sword wielding, his healing skills, and his favorite place in Dovve. His weapon took her by surprise, the katana fortified by a binding spell that enabled him to slice through demon flesh and deteriorate their regeneration time. Syreene had never heard anything like it, saving that tip for the next time Cabil asked her about a birthday present.
While they continued to exchange light pleasantries, Syreene suddenly narrowed her eyes on Narus. She couldn't wash away the blood on her brother's clothes, mortified at the damage he was dealt. "Do you know who she was?" she asked as he placed the glass of juice on the table. "That witch who attacked my brother."
"No, I—" He paused, giving her a fretful look. "I don't know, sadly. To be honest, I now question whether she was a Dessarian. She was quick, perhaps too quick."
"Why didn't you kill her?"
Narus nearly choked on his meal, dropping the fork to his plate and taking a napkin to his lips. "I couldn't take her life. She escaped us. Even if I had the opportunity, I wouldn't."
"You know, my biological parents were killed. I'm not sure whether or not a cult took their life, but I do know they were taken from me prematurely. I don't remember much, I was very young at the time. That night… such a blur, dark… cold… can almost taste the blood in my mouth. I can still hear his voice, not sure what he said, but I can hear it." Distraught, she idly ran her fork against the empty plate. "It was daunting, this vicious figure hovering over my father, taking his life right before me…"
The sudden harsh grazing between porcelain and stainless steel triggered his delayed response. "I'm sorry."
She pulled herself from her dark memories, turning her attention to him. "So am I. I vowed to find him, wherever he is. I'm going to become stronger and avenge my parents. I may not be gifted like my brother, but this is what I live for now. Murderers shouldn't be given a chance to live in peace while innocents die." She stopped herself. "Narus, I'm forever in your debt. All I have now is Cabil, and I don't know what I would have done if he…" Suppressing her tears, she grabbed both of their empty plates and placed them in the sink. "Please, stay the night."
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