(( for eloi the poor bby ;w; - 70 horrible questions meme ... yeah I know |D )) 03: Do you regret anything?, 09: Do you bite your nails?, 12: Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?, 23: Do you have piercings? How many?, 30: What’s irritating you right now?, 34: Who/what was your last dream about?
(( Eloi needs to be protected at all costs, okay. 3 I’mma put some under a read more, just because this turned out kinda long. ))
Do you regret anything?
Eloi hesitated, fidgeting. Truly, he didn’t want to answer, but it was an- innocent question. “… Y-yes… of course I do.” He spoke quietly, not looking up at the stranger.
He regretted a lot of things. In many ways he regretted being alone the day that he was attacked. He regretted falling in with Fletcher. He regretted-… running away from Iolar that first time. He felt the blame and regret for his family, their passing, even though the chorus of ‘it’s not your fault’ had been near constant. He regretted so much. He’d made- so many mistakes in his already short life.
Do you bite your nails?
The teen instinctively hid his hands. He gave a small, shy nod. Most of his fingernails had been bitten down so far that he caused a few of them to bleed, especially in his times of great anxiety. They showed signs of healing, but only recently. Truthfully, he hadn’t bitten his nails near as much since coming to the haven.
Have you ever stayed up 48 hours?
“… Yes. I have.” Eloi looked down, frowning a bit. “… 48 hours-… isn’t that long. Between training and- jobs for F-… Fletcher… I’ve stayed up longer….” He swallowed thickly. “… Eva kept telling me to rest, though, while I was recovering.”
Would that change as he felt better? As all of his wounds healed? How long would it be before someone persecuted him again?
Do you have piercings? How many?
Eloi blushed a bit at the question, blinking a few times as he glanced up at the stranger. “Uhm-… n-no, I don’t.” He hesitated, but reached up to tug at his ear a little. “… I-… kind of want some though. Nothing- nothing major, and- I don’t know if-… if Iolar would approve, but-….”
He trailed off, biting his lip. “… Maybe-… maybe one day. I think- it’d look nice.” Or- feel nice. He couldn’t even see them anymore.
What’s irritating you right now?
The teen chewed his lip a little. He hesitated terribly. “… I’m-… it’s- nothing, really.”
No, he wouldn’t make a big deal about the buzzing he kept hearing in the wall of the dining room. It made meals more difficult to enjoy eating, the nerves of what it might be gnawing at him. The worst case in his mind was a bee hive… but- no, it couldn’t be. It had to be something simpler than that, like a- shaky pipe or something. He- hoped.
Who/what was your last dream about?
Eloi’s breath caught in his throat. He looked away, wringing his hands. “… Fl-… Fletcher.” He whispered, swallowing thickly. “U-uhm-… I-…” Eloi stood, stumbling a little at first. “I- have to go, I need to- to train.” He walked quickly out of the room, so quickly he accidentally rammed his shoulder into the door frame. He squeaked, but didn’t stop until he was far out of sight.
He couldn’t talk about the looming presence. He couldn’t talk about the pain, the screaming, the venomous words. He couldn’t talk about how he felt he had deserved it. He couldn’t talk about-… a lot of things, when it came to Fletcher. But that particular nightmare, he woke to a cold sweat, his sheets completely soaked, and choking back a scream.
The teen had sobbed into his pillow until he had no more tears to shed. But when he’d gone to go get some water from the bathroom, there was a bell on his door. He didn’t know what to think of it, but when he shuffled his foot forward, he felt a warm mug of tea sitting there, waiting for him.
Even still… he couldn’t discuss the nightmare. But he had drunk the tea, and it’d helped him sleep a few more hours that night.
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The house was hard to navigate. Well... everything was hard to navigate right now.
Eloi itched at the bandages over his eyes. He wanted to take them off, desperately. The only way he knew whether it was night or day was by the difference of the sun on his face, or the night air breezing over his skin. He could barely navigate around the room he was placed in, though it was getting easier.
Ishani had been an interesting person to have in his room. Her voice was- rather calm. Soothing. She never pushed him, never asked him questions. She just let him do what he pleased, and offered him trinkets to touch and feel. It helped. Truly, it did.
Eva was- different. She was blind, herself, at least- kind of. She explained it once; she was blind, but the visor she wore allowed her to see, at least a bit. He didn’t know what the visor looked like, but he knew every time she spoke of it, her tone changed a bit. It was more tense, almost- nervous. So he didn’t talk about it.
Jace didn’t frequent his room. He suspected he had spent some time in there when he was asleep, but he traded off shortly after Eloi had woken up. He could smell wood oils and fresh sawdust when Jace left, and he could hear the scraping of a knife against wood when he’d first woken. Eloi suspected he was carving something.
Iolar-... he didn’t talk whenever he was in the room. He didn’t try to hold conversation with Eloi, especially not after talking to him about the Rift and the gauntlet when he first woke, nearly... a week ago? Eloi wasn’t sure he could blame him for not wanting to talk after that. It wasn’t an easy conversation for either of them. But somehow, when Iolar lingered, Eloi always felt a bit safer, listening to the pages turn of whatever book he was reading. He did wish he spoke. His voice was calming, even if he knew it could turn harsh sometimes.
All in all... he didn’t know what to think of everyone. They were gentle in changing his bandages. They brought him food, and even asked him what he liked.
Eva’s cooking was always easy to pinpoint. Her dishes were often hearty, Italian in nature, but there was one time she made him a personal shepherd's pie, and that was-... absolutely delicious. The only thing he’d tasted that Jace had made was a chili, but it was warm. Iolar’s food was always more varied, but perfectly cooked and seasoned. One time, he made a traditional Indian chicken curry, and Eloi had nearly broke down crying when he tasted it. It-... tasted like home.
Eloi didn’t-... want to lose this place.
This was the first time they’d left him alone for longer than about twenty minutes. Eva was sleeping, and Ishani had left for the day. Iolar had been with him, but Jace had come into the room. The carpenter sounded almost panicked, speaking in a hushed tone to Iolar, before the two left with a ‘be right back’.
He didn’t want to run off again.
Fletcher-... he scared Eloi. The voices he heard scared him too. But everyone here-... they understood.
One of the only times Iolar had spoken while staying with him is when he noticed Eloi tense up from some of the things the voices said. The words cut him deep, and he wanted to run, to retreat away from them. Iolar had stepped up to the bed and spoken to him, calmly and collectedly. As though... as though he knew exactly how terrifying it was. Eloi suspected he did. Both him and Ishani.
Eloi slipped off his bed, wrapping his arms around himself. He was still sore, but he could move without pain now. He bumped into a box as he walked, stumbling. He squeaked softly, catching himself with a hand on the foot of the bed. He took a deep breath, slowly moving around the box and using the bed to walk.
He knew where the door was, but-.... Eloi swallowed his fear, his hands hovering a bit as he shuffled across the open expanse. He ran into the door. Eloi squeaked again, tensing up. He took a few deep breaths, patting the door until he found the doorknob.
Slipping out, he listened outside the door. He could hear voices, distantly.
“Brother, what’s goin’ on? You got it?”
“Jace, shut up.”
Eloi tilted his head. He wrapped his arms around himself again to feel more secure, before slipping down the hallway. He brushed his shoulder against the wall to make sure he wasn’t going to run into anything.
He got closer, and stepped over to the door frame, holding onto it gingerly as he listened.
Something was rustling in the ceiling. Weight shifted, a weight that sounded a lot like Iolar. Jace stood below, shifting his weight between his feet. He seemed to be anxious, and with every creak of the floorboards, he could hear a metallic shifting. Like... a cage? Why would they need a cage?
A sudden shift happened in the ceiling. A loud, animistic screeching left Eloi flinching as scuffling sounded. Iolar seemed to shift in the ceiling, stepping closer to- a hole?
“You got it? You got it!” Jace sounded like he was beaming. “What is it?”
Iolar grunted from effort. “Jace, hand me the bloody cage.”
“Righ’, righ’.” Jace grabbed the metallic sounding thing, the cage, and held it up to him. Iolar grabbed the cage, the screeching never ceasing. He shoved the screeching creature into the cage and slammed the door shut. It stopped screeching as loudly, but gave loud chirps of displeasure.
“... Raccoon.” Iolar grumbled. “Handing it down.”
Jace took the cage and set it on the ground again. “... Cute bugger. Evil, but cute.”
It was then that Iolar seemed to catch sight of Eloi, clinging to the doorway.
“Ah-... er-... Eloi.” Iolar cleared his throat, before hopping down from the ceiling with a thud.
“Hey kiddo, sorry, did we bother ya?” Jace sounded like he had a nervous smile. “Had an unexpected visitor before we could seal up the ceiling.”
Eloi shook his head a bit, clinging to the door frame a bit tighter. His words died in his throat.
“... I can finish up here, Jace. The ceiling might need to wait until tomorrow, but I think everything else is set.” Iolar patted Jace on the shoulder, directing his attention to Eloi. “... Eloi, I think your room is about ready. Provided you don’t mind us finishing up the ceiling tomorrow.”
The young teen tensed, before shaking his head. “I-... I don’t-... mind.” He mumbled quietly.
He could hear the smile in Jace’s voice as he spoke. “... Well, we’ll get it fixed up here quick.” The raccoon bashed against the side of the cage. “... Er-... I’d better get Skippy here out to- somewhere. You sure you’re okay to finish, brother? Some of that furniture ain’t light.”
“... Jace.” Iolar’s voice turned a bit tight, almost annoyed, but Eloi detected a bit of-... was that warmth? “... I’ll be fine.”
“Alrigh’, alrigh’!” Jace chuckled, taking the cage in hand. He walked toward the door, patting Eloi on the shoulder as he slipped out. Eloi flinched, but Jace only seemed to smile. “... I’ll see you tomorrow, kiddo. Don’t let Gypsy be too hard on you.”
Eloi listened to him wander down the stairs and exit the house. Iolar brushed his shirt and pants of dust, before grunting as he stretched. “... How are you doing, Eloi?”
“... I’m-... fine.” He spoke softly, nervously looking away.
“... Good.”
Silence fell between them, before Iolar cleared his throat a little, slipping past Eloi. “... You can- follow me, if you want.”
Eloi blinked. “... I can? You-... don’t want me to return to the room?”
Iolar’s shirt shifted- was that a shrug? Yeah, that sounded right. Regardless, the elder man started to walk down the stairs. “... If you wanted to run, you would’ve run already. So-... why not?”
The teen had no answer. He held himself as he walked after Iolar, bumping into the railing when he reached the stairs. The rail creaked threateningly. Iolar stopped short on the step he was on, shifting to turn toward Eloi. The teen gasped in shock, jumping back a little. He willed his heart to slow down, shuffling to hold the railing as he started down the stairs. He didn’t know the layout of the house, and it was- rather intimidating.
“How are your bandages?” Iolar spoke as he walked. Eloi followed as best he could, bumping into a couple things along the way.
“... Itchy.”
Iolar hummed faintly, almost thoughtful. “... Want to take them off? I think your wounds have healed enough to take off at least most of them.”
Eloi looked toward Iolar, feeling a bit of his tension fade. They could take off the bandages?
“... Come over to me, there’s a chair you can sit on.”
He complied, and Iolar tapped the seat of the chair almost effortlessly. It-... helped, to know where the seat truly was. He sat, fidgeting. At Iolar’s first touch to the bandages at his face, he flinched. It only served to make him touch him gentler, working at the bandages.
Iolar unwrapped the bandages fully. Eloi felt a bit of a chill at the lack of warmth. The elder man ghosted his fingertips over the scabbed over wounds. Some places had started to scar, but others still were healing.
“... Eloi, can you open your eyes?”
He hesitated, but tried. His eyes were sealed shut.
Another hum came from Iolar. “... One second.”
The thief walked away, talking as he did. “Eloi, you’re-... probably not going to see the same way you used to.” Eloi heard water running. “It’s probably going to be dark, but- you’ll see- auras.”
“Auras?” Eloi questioned, nervous.
“Souls.” Iolar walked back over to him. “... People’s souls.”
“... Will I see-... things like chairs?” He rested his hand on the table next to the chair, fidgeting with it a little. “... Or tables?”
“... I don’t think so. But Eva can help teach you to navigate. And- I’ll be here too. I’m not leaving anytime soon. Turn your head up.” When Eloi complied, Iolar passed a soft, warm cloth over his eyes. It was lightly damp, and felt-... so soothing.
Eloi instinctively relaxed as Iolar started to gently rub at his eyes with the cloth. Despite his gruff demeanor, Eloi could sense-... gentleness. It was in the way he changed his bandages, in the way he spoke when it was something Eloi felt uncomfortable with, in the way he’d ensured there were enough blankets on the bed he’d been sleeping on.
No... it was small things. Not loud, boisterous things. He never talked about it or sought acclaim, like Fletcher. Iolar-... was quiet in his gentleness. He was hard on the outside, but gentle when it mattered.
His eyes felt-... better. Iolar pulled the cloth away from his eyes. Eloi winced a little, but managed to open his eyes.
At first, darkness greeted him. Eloi felt his hopes deflate a little, before he saw- swirls of color. He blinked a few times, staring at the intricate colors.
“... I-... wow.” The teen breathed softly, blinking again.
Iolar hesitated. “... What-... do you see?”
“... Color. Really-... bright color.” Eloi blinked, raising one hand to gently rub his eye before refocusing in on Iolar-... Iolar’s soul. “... It’s- purple. And green, and blue.” He tilted his head. “... Why are there darker portions? Like-.” He reached up toward the aura’s shoulder, only to have Iolar catch his hand before it contacted. He was startled at first, but his shock was quickly overruled by the fact where Iolar’s hand held his wasn’t where he expected his hand to be. Like the soul wasn’t exactly where Iolar was.
And-... he couldn’t see his own- soul. He couldn’t see his hand. He looked down, trying to see if he could see- anything. But no. It was just darkness.
“... Why can’t I see my own soul?”
Iolar hesitated, but let out a breath. “I’m not sure. I’ve never been- able to see my own.”
“We can only see other people’s?”
“I suppose so.” Iolar straightened, letting go of Eloi’s hand. “If you feel well enough, this should help you follow me a bit easier as I set up your room.”
Eloi blinked again, nodding. He stood, a bit shakily with not being able to see. He could- but not truly. He felt-... relieved. He could at least see something. The young teen followed Iolar.
“Stand over there, please. There will be some boxes on your left.” Iolar directed him, and Eloi followed the instruction. He stopped when he felt the boxes with his fingertips. Iolar took hold of- something rather large. Judging from where he held and how he carried it- it looked like a headboard to Eloi. Iolar grunted faintly from effort, but made his way toward the stairs.
Eloi followed at a distance, but silence fell between them as Iolar worked. He would bring the pieces to the room they were working on, then walk back downstairs to get another piece, including the mattress. Then he moved on to what Iolar could only assume was an end table, and a dresser. The dresser, he struggled with a little, but he managed. The final trip was a load of crinkling plastic bags that Eloi couldn’t pinpoint. They weren’t that heavy, that much he could tell for certain.
The teen leaned against a wall inside his-... new room as Iolar set them down. He held himself, chewing his lip a little as he heard Iolar start to shift some of the bed pieces. “... Are those-... new? I-... I really didn’t need-....”
“Jace insisted.” Iolar grunted, starting to work at putting the frame together.
“He-... he made it?”
“Jace made pretty much everything that’s going in your room. And he already has some thoughts on a desk and desk chair for you. He was going to talk to you about it, but he wasn’t sure if there was anything specific you wanted to the design.”
Eloi hesitated. “I-... I-... uhm-... I don’t need anything- fancy.”
Iolar scoffed lightly, seeming to talk around a couple fasteners he held in his lips. “... Try telling that to Jace. He wants you to have the best, and he’ll make it himself.”
The teen fell silent. Jace-... really cared that much? He’d just met him. Eloi fidgeted, looking anywhere but Iolar’s soul. Yet again, Iolar was the one- making his bed for him. Literally putting it together. Iolar finally managed to finish putting it together, and shifted the mattress to flop inside the frame. He went to one of the plastic bags, and pulled something out.
Eloi heard fabric, before hearing Iolar start to put a sheet on the bed. A- brand new sheet set. He opened his mouth to speak, but his words caught in his throat. No... Iolar seemed- stubborn.
“... Eloi, where do you want the bed and nightstand?” Iolar asked him as he finished, turning to face him.
Hesitating, Eloi stepped a bit closer, nervous. He could feel a window, the fading sun on his face. He-... kind of wanted that close to his bed, for when he woke up. “... Where- would the sun fall in the morning?”
Iolar pointed. “... Over there. You want it to hit your face, or?”
Eloi shook his head. “... No, just-... somewhere. The warmth- feels nice in the morning.”
The thief nodded, seeming to think for a moment, before sliding the bed over to the wall. It settled in a corner, leaving one side open, but the other pressed to the wall. Iolar then moved the end table beside it.
“... There, and then you have the rest of the room to do- whatever you want with it. Why don’t you test out the bed?”
Eloi blinked, staring owlishly at Iolar for a moment before nodding, shifting to the edge of the bed. He sat, nervously, and holding his hands in his lap. “... I can-... really do anything with it?”
“Of course. Jace is even willing to make whatever furniture you want. A desk, chair, bookshelf, whatever you want.” Iolar paused, staring at the dresser. “... Where do you want your dresser?”
“... Uhm-... down- down there?” He pointed toward the end of the bed, on the other wall. “... But- Jace is busy enough, he can’t possibly have time t-to-....”
Iolar scoffed again, pushing the dresser into place. “Jace would probably take it as an small insult to buy things off the shelf, Eloi. He may be busy, but if he knows you want to do something with your room, he’ll make the time.”
“... And-... and what about you?”
“What do you mean?”
Eloi looked down, fidgeting with his hands. With the gauntlet. The artifact was still so new. “... You said you weren’t-... leaving anytime soon.”
“And I’m not.” Iolar sighed, leaning against the dresser. “... It’s clear with you and Ishani that we need a haven for Rift Walkers. A headquarters, of sorts. So, I need to spend time to set it up properly.” He shrugged. “You are a priority. This is the first room that Jace and I renovated of the whole building. And there are things both I and Ishani can teach you, that we both had to learn the hard way. So... yes, I’m not leaving anytime soon, and whatever you need, I’m here.”
The teen didn’t look up, chewing his lip. He could hear Iolar sigh again, walking up to him. Eloi tensed on instinct when he felt Iolar sit on the bed, the mattress pressing down. He felt his stomach clench, feeling nausea wash up, but Iolar just-... sat there.
He smelled of drywall dust, wood, and various chemicals. And- sweat. Iolar hesitantly patted Eloi’s shoulder, seeming almost awkward in doing so.
“... You-... have a home here, Eloi.”
Eloi didn’t look up. fidgeting. “... That’s-... not my- my name, you know....”
“I’m aware. ‘Iolar’ isn’t mine.” He paused. “... Do you prefer ‘Eloi’?”
“... A bit. But-... my-... name is Kylian.”
The teen could hear a-... faint smile in Iolar’s voice. “... Well, good to meet you, Kylian. But if you prefer, I’ll continue calling you ‘Eloi’.”
“... I would prefer that.” Eloi glanced to him out of the corner of his eye. “.. But- you prefer ‘Iolar’?”
“Vastly.”
“... Then-... thank you, Iolar.”
Iolar stood, stalking over to the plastic bags and taking them in his hands. He brought them back over to Eloi, resting them at his feet. “... I’ll go grab your blankets, but why don’t you start going through these?”
“Oh-... o-okay.” Eloi bit his lip as Iolar stalked out of the room. He reached into the bag, sifting through. It felt like- fabric. He pulled out something, feeling over it. A-... a t-shirt? And it felt to be his size too, and-... brand new. He tensed, flushing as Iolar came back. “... I-Iolar, I can’t-.”
“You can, and you will, Eloi. Anything you don’t like or doesn’t fit, leave in the bags and we’ll return them for things you want.” Iolar dropped the blankets on Eloi’s bed. “... But I’ll let you go through them. I’ll be downstairs if you need me.” Iolar gave a wave over his shoulder as he stalked back out.
“But-.” Eloi hesitated, swallowing. ... Well... Iolar didn’t leave him much of a choice, now did he?
The teen slowly started to go through the clothing, enjoying the- quiet. The room smelled of construction, but- he liked it. The light faded, and Eloi continued going through the clothes, sorting them out easily enough. Eventually, he started yawning, his eyes drooping. He could see Iolar moving about downstairs, his soul distant, but still there.
Eloi shifted back into his bed, pulling his blankets and pillows up as he curled up. Watching Iolar’s soul move, and eventually Eva’s as well, he drifted off to sleep rather peacefully.
