As they entered Eryn's cozy cottage, the warmth and familiarity of the space enveloped them, a welcome respite from the eerie mist and uncertainty of their journey. Zhilakoa's eyes sparkled as she took in the rustic decor, her gaze lingering on the small details that spoke of Eryn's personality.
Eryn, meanwhile, busied himself with starting a fire, his movements efficient and practiced. The crackle of the flames and the soft hiss of the kettle soon filled the air, creating a sense of comfort and normalcy.
Zhilakoa wandered over to the small bookshelf, running her fingers over the spines of the books, her eyes scanning the titles.
As she went through the bookshelf, Zhilakoa saw a variety of books that piqued her interest. Alongside alchemy books and tomes on mastery of the 4 elements, she noticed a collection of African literature that hinted at Eryn's diverse tastes. Titles like "Homegoing" by Yaa Gyasi, "The shadow of the sun" by Ryszard Kapuśconski, caught her eye, alongside books on African history and culture.
Zhilakoa's gaze lingered on the books, her mind whirling with questions. What drew Eryn to these stories and authors? How did they influence his thoughts and beliefs? She made a mental note to ask him about his favorite books and authors, eager to delve deeper into his mind and heart.
As she continued to explore the bookshelf, Zhilakoa discovered more surprises. Eryn's love for strategy and history was evident in the presence of books like "The Art of War" and "The History of the Peloponnesian War". His fascination with the natural world was reflected in tomes on botany, zoology, and elemental magic. The more she explored, the more Zhilakoa realized that Eryn's interests and passions were far more diverse than she had initially thought. His love for knowledge and understanding was palpable, and she found herself drawn to his curious and inquiring mind.
"You have an impressive collection, Eryn," she said, her voice filled with curiosity. "I see you have a fondness for history and strategy." Eryn looked up from his task, a hint of a smile on his face. "Guilty as charged. I find solace in understanding the past and planning for the future."
Zhilakoa's gaze lingered on his face, her expression soft. "You're a complex person, Eryn. Always thinking, always planning. But I'm glad to see you're taking a moment to rest." Eryn's eyes dropped, his cheeks flushing slightly. "Yeah, well, it's been a long day."
As the tea steeped, Zhilakoa settled into the armchair, her eyes never leaving Eryn's face. "Tell me, Eryn, what's been weighing on your mind? You've been distant since we left the mist."
Eryn's gaze flickered, his jaw clenched. "It's nothing, Zhilakoa. Just the usual worries."
As they sat down with their steaming cups of tea, Zhilakoa's eyes never left Eryn's face. "Eryn, I know you've been hurt before," she said gently. "But I want you to know that I'm not her. Eryn's face remained guarded, his eyes avoiding hers. "It's not that simple, Zhilakoa. Trust is something that's earned, not given."
Zhilakoa nodded, her voice soft. "I understand. But I want to earn your trust, Eryn. I want to know you, truly know you. Can you tell me about your childhood?"
Eryn's gaze faltered, his eyes flashing with a mix of emotions. He hesitated, his voice barely above a whisper. "It was...complicated. My parents were...distant. They had high expectations, and I always felt like I was failing them." Zhilakoa's eyes filled with compassion. "Oh, Eryn, I'm so sorry. That must have been incredibly difficult for you."
Eryn's face twisted, his voice laced with pain. "It was. But I learned to cope, to hide my feelings. It was easier that way."
"My parents...they were never really around. They were always busy with their own things, and I was left to fend for myself. I grew up in Argentina, but I never really felt like I belonged. He paused, his eyes flashing with pain. "I had...abilities. I could do things that no one else could, and it scared people. They treated me like an outcast, like I was some kind of monster. I was lonely and scared, and I didn't know how to control my powers."
Eryn's voice cracked,"So I ran away. I couldn't take it anymore. I wandered for a long time, trying to find a place where I belonged. And then I found the Order of the Oak. They took me in, taught me how to control my powers, and showed me the crystal."
He looked up, his eyes locking onto Zhilakoa's." Even till now I still struggle. I'm one of the few white people in this black village, and I'm treated like an outsider. I have to live in this cottage on the outskirts of town because no one wants me in their community. It's hard, Zhilakoa. It's really hard."
"Eryn, I'm so sorry." She reached out, her hand covering his, her touch warm and comforting. As their hands touched, the contrast between their skin tones was evident. "But you're not alone now. You have me, and I'll always be here for you."
Eryn's gaze dropped, his eyes fixed on their hands, his pale white skin against Zhilakoa's dark skin. He was struck by the contrast between their skin tones. His own pale white skin, seemed almost fragile against Zhilakoa's rich, dark brown skin. The difference was stark, a visual reminder of the diverse backgrounds they came from. He realized that their differences were what made their bond stronger, a union of two souls from different walks of life.