#phaedron guild

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Chapter 13:

The sun had only just risen as Roxbury made his way out into the streets of Tharsis. His guildmates had gathered into the morning air, also. Luggage, important personal items in their possessions, by their sides.

He cast a quick glance over everyone, noting that they were all together, and ready to go. All except one. But he was coming.

Roxbury turned in time to see Isiah step out of his clinic, and turned to shut the door behind him. He then proceeded to lock the front door to the clinic. The sound of the lock clicking into place felt and sounded louder than they’ve ever heard before. The building itself, however, stood silent.

It was almost sad, in a way. The Researchers’ clinic was their shelter, a place they could spend together, to plan and to laugh. It felt wrong somehow to leave it now.

But the building was tall and sturdy. It would wait silently for them to return from their journey. And when they returned, they would have more materials and knowledge to fill the rooms and bookshelves once more.

“Ready?” Roxbury asked as Isiah joined them.

“Un,” Nitish was the one who answered first. “We’ll return one day.”

Roxbury gave the runemaster a small smile. “Yeah.”

He cast one last glance toward Tharsis, to the city that he had called home for the last year. He, surprisingly, wasn’t as sad or nonchalant as he thought he would be. He loved the city of Tharsis with all his heart, and yet the adventurer part of his soul longed for the mysteries of his new expedition.

Perhaps he had grown somewhat restless. Or maybe he longed for some time away from the city that brought both comfort and concern.

They fell into a comfortable silence as they gathered their belongings and took the path that would lead them straight to Maginia. They weren’t the only ones who were boarding. Other explorers, both locals of Tharsis and inhabitants of the other lands, were joining the expedition in their own way.

Because of Villard’s invitation, Roxbury and the others were able to skip the queue, as it were.

Speaking of the elderly war magus, Villard stood at the gates to Maginia. And he seemed genuinely thrilled to see that they were all there, belongings by their sides, waiting to join.

“Welcome!” Villard greeted them boisterously before he folded his hands into the sleeves of his cloak. “You all agreed to join, I see.”

Roxbury nodded his head. “Well, we didn’t have much of a choice,” he said, jokingly as he sent a glance toward a certain member of their party.

Villard scoffed lightly, dismissively. “Now, don’t be like that. But I am gladdened to know that you agreed to participate. It’s a chance of a lifetime, after all.”

That was very true. Roxbury was glad that everyone had agreed to join. They had already been through a lot together, so it was reassuring to know that they were going to experience this new time in their lives together, too.

“Come, allow me to welcome you to Maginia,” Villard stated as he waved a hand to follow him.

To be truthful, Roxbury wasn’t expecting to see an actual city within the steel hull of Maginia. A city of building and streets. But that was what greeted them as they stepped through the heavy metal and steel gates.

The city, though quite beautiful, looked like any other. Cobblestone streets and paths, stone buildings, people bustling in the streets, focused upon their daily lives and tasks. There were gardens, parks, even a town centre where festivals were held.

A second glance around, however, revealed that though the buildings looked relatively the same as the ones within Tharsis, they were indeed a lot sturdier. Fortified in many ways. They were carefully built to withstand the high strength winds they would encounter while in flight.

They had some experience of high winds and flight thanks to their own airships, but this was on a much grander scale.

It should prove…interesting, to say the least.

Villard continued to lead them through the city until they reached a set of steel gates and tall stone security walls. The gates, a little imposing, where open, leading to a large courtyard. The residences found within the gates, however, looked inviting. Stone buildings with windows, deep green grass, and well-preserved pathways.

It looked like a small community within a large city.

“This is known as The Sanctuary,” Villard explained as they walked through the tall, open gates. He stopped, however, as they crossed over into the boundaries of the courtyard. “It’s a private community where you will all live and work together with other guilds. I’d show you in, but I’m certain I’d be pushed aside by other more enthusiastic greeters.”

There was a sense of mirth in Villard’s voice and Roxbury realised who it was that he could be referring to. “Ah, the Guardians are living here, too,” he said.

“That’s right,” Villard replied with a half-smile and folded his hands into the sleeves of his cloak once more. “I dare say that a certain orange-haired medic would be making his way to greet you.”

Nitish unexpectedly uttered a small, airy laugh. “Yes. I can sense him already.”

Villard nodded his head before he revealed a hand and motioned toward entrance of a building on the other side of the court. “Well, I’ll leave them to it. I must speak with Princess Persephone. Excuse me.”

With that, he nodded his head slightly before he turned and moved beyond the gates, and back out into the streets of Maginia. When he disappeared from sight, Roxbury turned to face the entrance of their new residency once more. He could feel the others’ apprehension, but there was a sense of excitement along with that.

Before Roxbury could urge everyone to make their way inside, two figures suddenly appeared from the doorway. And they instantly recognisable. One tall with red hair, the other quite short with orange hair.

“Isiah!” Lynus greeted warmly, honestly quite happily as he and Axel quickly made their way over to them. “You’re here. You all agreed to join?”

“That we did,” Isiah replied with a half-smile.

“That’s great!” Lynus said, sounding and looking genuinely pleased. He cast a quick glance over the group and paused. His smile was nothing but warm as he said; “Oh, good. Villard twisted your arm, Highland Count?”

Effortlessly balancing Margaretta in the crook of his arm, Highland Count practically beams. “Indeed! He’s always been quite the negotiator.”

Lynus gave a small laugh and nodded his head. “I’m relieved. With so many explorers in one city, we’ll be sure to need all the help we can get.” He paused as he glanced over High Count’s shoulder. “And I’m happy to see Ciaran, too. Quite taken by Maginia?”

“It’s…certainly something,” Ciaran replied honestly. “I can barely believe they could make an entire city fly. I would love to see the underground mechanics.”

“I’m a little interested myself,” Axel admitted. “Maybe we could talk Villard into letting us have a tour later.”

That immediately gained Ciaran’s interest. “That would be incredible. I’ve seen parts of it when we were mooring the airships in an interior cargo bay.”

“Great. Can’t wait to see them in action.” Axel’s curiosity in the airships definitely gained Ciaran’s attention, and the wharfmaster honestly looked pleased that someone seemed interested in his work.

“Ah, I see some new faces, too,” Lynus said with a curious tilt of his head.

“Yes. Thankfully, everyone who is close to our guild agreed to join,” Roxbury answered as he turned his attention to the other honorary members of his guild. “First, let me introduce you to Kirjonen, a holy rune knight.”

“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” Kirjonen immediately responded with a polite bow and a small smile. “It’s a shame I couldn’t speak with you yesterday.”

Lynus gave a small nod of his head in return. “It’s nice to meet you, too. Don’t worry; we’ll have plenty of time to chat during this expedition.”

Roxbury motioned toward the two women who stood with Kirjonen. “Next, we have Wiglaf and Yasmina.”

“Heya, nice to meet you,” Wiglaf greeted with a friendly wave while Yasmina seemed to flush lightly before she bowed forward steeply.

“H-hello.”

“Nice to meet you, too,” Lynus replied before a thoughtful expression appeared on his face. He folded an arm across his chest as the other touched the side of his face in a pensive pose. “Hm, I have to say; other than a housecat and a lamb, you'll be the only two girls within the entire community. So far, at least. Is that all right?”

Wiglaf, however, immediately shook her head and smiled at Lynus’ consideration. “That’s absolutely no problem. Hey, I grew up with nine brothers. I'm used to the rowdiness of guys.” She linked an arm through Yasmina’s and tugged her close to her side. “And I get to have Yasmina all to myself.”

The warm smile returned to Lynus’ lips upon the flustered expression on Yasmina’s face, and the playfully honest one on Wiglaf’s. “Well then, I’m sure you’re perfectly fine with sharing a room together.”

“Ooh, girl, hear that. We're going to be roommates!” Wiglaf said as she suddenly hugged the pink-haired imperial, and purposely rubbed her cheek against hers.

Poor Yasmina. Roxbury had never seen anyone turn so red without dropping on the spot. Best to turn attention away from the obviously embarrassed young woman.

So Roxbury turned to the two newest members of their party. “Next we have-”

“Hello there, the name’s Ayjay,” the redheaded dancer interrupted, oozing confidence as he folded an arm across his chest and sent a wink toward both Lynus and Axel. It was something that he did whenever he met someone new, it seemed. “I’m the guildmaster’s nephew. He requested that I join this expedition in order to be the Count’s personal bodyguard.”

A slightly shorter man with silver hair that was naturally straight up, like that of a paint brush, waved an arm enthusiastically in the air in greeting. “And I’m Clester, nice to meetcha!”

Ayjay confidently flicked a strand of red hair from his forehead. “Yes, Clester wanted so badly to join so I graciously agreed.”

Clester stilled, a confused expression on his face, even with his arm still in the air. A positively outraged expression soon appeared on his face and he turned to look directly at Ayjay. “What! You begged me to join!”

Ayjay bristled, his self-assured appearance immediately disappearing as he spun around to face Clester in return. “I did not!”

Roxbury watched for a moment as the two friends bickered. He didn’t know the two newest members all that well. Mahalah and Durriken knew the two the best out of them all. Though, Ayjay seemed to run away from Mahalah whenever he had Mahalah’s attention. While Clester just absolutely adored Durriken.

It should prove interesting to work with them on this expedition.

“Lynus!”

The shout of Lynus’ name caused Roxbury to turn his attention back to Lynus and Axel, only to see that four more people had joined them in that short amount of time. A man with orange hair, a shade lighter than Lynus’, had come up behind the medic and hugged him around his shoulders. Another with brown hair and a green trench coat stood to Lynus’ side. With Axel stood two more men, one with blue hair and bright blue eyes. And lastly a tall man with long blond hair and a scar over the bridge of his nose.

They were clearly members of the Guardians.

The man with the orange hair that hugged Lynus unashamedly, the medic letting him do so without any negatively, turned his gaze in their direction. And his expression immediately brightened. “Ah, you’re the Phaedon guild?”

“That’s right,” Lynus replied with a smile before he motioned to the four new comers with his hand. “Let me introduce you; this is Lirit, Macerio, Topaz, and Zeryn.”

Lirit, the man hugging Lynus, finally pulled back from the medic and moved to stand next to him. “It’s nice to finally meet you!” he said brightly, warmly.

The tall, blond-haired man, Zeryn, boldly stepped forward and approached Biast who stood off the side of the group. He looked at him for a moment before he placed his hands on his hips and smiled rather broadly at him. “Ach, you’re a tall bastard, ain’t you?”

Biast flicked his ear as he regarded the man curiously. “Hm? You must be the one who is rather obnoxious about his height?”

Zeryn laughed loudly, not sounding remotely put off by that. “Aye lad, that’s me. I guess this makes me the third tallest now.”

Macerio, the shortest of the four newcomers, tugged at Lynus’ arm to gain his attention. “Lynus, which one is your penpal?”

“That would be me,” Isiah answered before Lynus’ could, immediately gaining the attention of three out of the four. “That supposedly Demon Medic.”

Topaz, the rather regal looking man with blue hair tilted his head to the side questioningly. “Ah, Demon Medic? You don’t appear very demonic.”

Isiah arched an eyebrow at him. “Hm? How am I supposed to look like?”

“Well,” Topaz started as he righted himself and tapped his cheek in a musing posture. “Lynus is called Guardian of Healing and he looks the part.”

Lynus sighed deeply, looking somewhat exasperated as he touched his forehead. “Please, don’t bring my title into this…”

Topaz turned to give Lynus that same questioning look that he had just granted Isiah moments ago. “Hm?”

“L-Lynus!”

Lynus immediately straightened his posture at the sound of someone else calling his name. He appeared lightly worried as he turned to look behind him. Out of habit, Roxbury did also. From the entrance, another figure appeared. He had purple hair pulled back into a small ponytail. He appeared to be that of a medic.

“Hm? Ah, Azure, good,” Lynus said warmly as the young man, Azure, reached his side and immediately, and rather meekly clutched onto his arm. “I want you to meet the Phaedron guild and Isiah. This is Azure, my apprentice.”

Azure looked over at everyone and subconsciously clung onto Lynus’ arm tightly. “U-um, hi,” he murmured shyly.

He flushed lightly before he turned to look directly at Lynus and pulled at his sleeve once more. A look of concern immediately appeared on Lynus’ face and he turned slightly away from everyone so that he could give his full attention to his apprentice.

“What’s wrong?” Lynus asked softly before he tiled his head to the side to allow the other young man to speak into his ear. Leading forward, Azure cupped his hand around Lynus’ ear so he could whisper to him.

A light wrinkle in Lynus’ brow appeared. “What? Is he at the clinic? I see. Alright.”

Azure took a half step back from Lynus, though continued to hold onto his arm. Lynus stared at the ground for a moment, no doubt mulling something around in his head. He eventually nodded, more to himself than anyone else, before he turned back to everyone with an apologetic expression.

“Sorry, you’ll have to excuse me,” Lynus said simply as he idly toyed with a button on his medical coat.

Lirit suddenly clapped his hands in front of him with a smile. “Nup, it’s fine. We’ll be happy to show everyone around!”

“Go ahead,” Axel said with an understanding tone. “I’ll take care of things from here.”

There was gratitude in Lynus’ smile as he regarded the two. “I know. I’ll be back shortly.”

With that, he turned toward the entrance with Azure and with a brisk, but calm pace, hurried back inside. Azure a step or so behind him. Out of instinct, Roxbury watched until they were no longer in sight. He wasn’t sure if something had happened, but it was obvious that someone required some kind of medical attention.

And as a guild leader he felt a sense of concern touch him, too.

Axel also watched until the two medics were out of sight before he turned back to being their gracious host. “Let me show you to the dorms first.”

“Ok,” Lirit agreed before he unexpectedly turned to head back inside through the entrance also. “While you do that, we’ll go tell everyone of our new residents.”

“Don’t ambush them all at once!” Axel shouted after him as Macerio and Topaz took to a jog to follow him. And with Zeryn following at a more leisurely pace.

Macerio threw a positively cheeky grin over his shoulder as he jogged away. “We’ll be good!”

“I don’t know about that,” Axel said with a sigh as he folded his arms across his chest. There was a light sense of exasperation, but not the negative, bitter kind. He had a half smile on his lips as he turned to regard Roxbury. “Anyway, if you’re set upon by a bunch of excited explorers, don’t panic.”

Any tension that Roxbury may have had immediately dissipated and he laughed. “We’ll be fine,” he said as they collectively moved through the entrance of their new community. “Getting such a warm welcome is a good thing.”

Axel led them through the large bay doors that acted as the entrance of the main building, it seemed. And he led them up a flight of stairs. As they moved to another set of stairs that reached up to the third floor, Roxbury took note of the doors that they passed. Some were seemingly locked tight, while others were slightly ajar. And next to them were small wooden plaques with names written on them.

It seemed they were all rooming in the same section of the community.

“Well, this half of the main building is the dormitories,” Axel explained as the reached the third floor. “This floor is likely to be all yours. You’ll need to pair up where you can. Though, I imagine Highland Count will have his own room.”

Axel unexpectedly paused as he looked at the first door on the right. His shoulders hunched slightly as he leaned forward and peered at a small wooden placard next to the door. He then sighed and shook his head.

“Seems like Villard had expected your cooperation, Count,” Axel said as he straightened his posture and jabbed his thumb in the direction of the placard.

Curious, Count ventured forward to have a look himself. And he, too, uttered a sigh. “It certainly seems so. Honestly, that man…”

“I’d ask you to keep him in line, but I imagine that to be impossible,” Axel muttered.

“Villard has always danced to the beat of his own drum, you could say,” Count added with a shake of his head. But there was still a sense of fondness in his voice. “Looks like everyone else will need to make their own decisions.”

“I’ll share with Miach!” Fletcher immediately stated.

“Then I’ll share with Baldur,” Blayden quickly followed as he clamped a hand on Baldur’s shoulder, as if ensuring that the prince wouldn’t try to talk himself out of it.

“Well, I’m obviously sharing with Varuna,” Bryce stated as he folded his arms across his chest. “And Nitish is rooming with Achyuta. And Ciaran with Xander.”

“Un. I’ll share with Biast,” Zoran said as he turned to the sentinel and looked up at him happily. “I don’t take much room.”

Biast gave the small vessel a soft smile. “And I take too much room.”

Jeroden laughed as he nudged Logre’s shoulder with his arm. “Well, I’ll share with Logre, here.”

Logre looked subtly relieved and nodded. “Sure.”

“If you don’t mind, but I would like a room of my own,” Kirjonen suddenly, but softly, requested. Which caused the small smile on Logre’s lips to immediately disappear, replaced momentarily by a wince.

“That’s not a problem,” Axel replied nonchalantly to Kirjonen’s request. “Not everyone is made to having a roommate. We have a few single rooms anyway. There in the middle of the hall. Take your pick.”

“Thank you very much,” Kirjonen said politely as he moved further down the hall. Cutting a rather…lonely figure.

Everyone was well aware of Kirjonen’s fondness toward Logre. A fondness that went beyond that of friendship. Logre seemed to have been growing fond of him in return. But that fondness never moved beyond that of friendship. Everyone joked that they would strand the two in the Windy Plains until they confessed their feelings to each other, but it was only that; a joke.

Everyone was equally aware of the unfair amount that Logre carried. They had hoped that in developing a friendship (perhaps moving onto more) would help him to begin to like himself in return.

And then Jeroden returned.

Though there were a few days of utter shock on Logre’s part, he soon became inseparable from Jeroden. And it soon became clear to everyone just how much the other man meant to Logre.

Kirjonen became painfully aware, too.

“Kirjonen…” Nitish said softly, sadly, which prompted Kirjonen to straighten his figure and to small reassuringly.

“It’s all right, I’m used to traveling alone, to be honest,” Kirjonen insisted. “This is going to be quite the experience.”

While everyone was pleased that Logre had someone he held as very important to him, they did wish that there was something they could do to help Kirjonen with his…unrequited love.

There was a suddenly rush of noise and voices down stairs. Not anything frightening, though. Just the sound of loud laughter and people talking freely, which radiated up the stairs they lingered near.

Axel glanced down the stairs for a moment before turning to regard Kirjonen once more. He then jabbed his thumb over his shoulder. “With this bunch, it’s going to be impossible to be alone, I can assure you.”

The corner of Kirjonen’s mouth twitched into a genuine smile for a moment before he placed that elegant, polite expression he was renowned for once more. He bowed his head slightly, almost with a sense of gratitude, before he turned and went in search of his room. Him doing so prompted those who had already claimed their roommate to follow.

Axel watched Kirjonen for a moment before he folded his arms across his chest and turned to face Roxbury. “I take it he doesn’t like imposing on others?” he unexpectedly asked.

“You could say that,” Roxbury replied with a weak smile. “It’s…complicated.”

“Ah, feeling left out from all the coupling happening here?” Axel asked, though it sounded as if he already knew the answer. “There’s a few others like that. He’s in good company.”

Roxbury gazed at Axel for a moment before he smiled. “That’s good to know.”

“Well, I volunteer to share a room with Roxbury.”

Roxbury was honestly surprised when he heard Zesiro state that, especially in front of everyone. He didn’t mind sharing a room with Zesiro. Honestly, there were times where he was grateful that Zesiro had snuck into his room. Some nights…were just a little too dark to get any proper sleep.

But the way that both Mahalah and Isiah seemed to bristle, they weren’t exactly thrilled. It was…honestly, rather disheartening.

“Pardon?” Mahalah said politely, but with a relatively sharp tone.

Zesiro turned to give Mahalah a charming smile. Not quite condescending, but not entirely genuine either. “We can’t have our beloved leader in a room by himself lest he overwork himself, hm?”

While there was a smile on Mahalah’s lips, there was a telling and protective narrowing of his eyes. “I doubt that’s the real reason.”

“Mahalah…” Roxbury sighed. He couldn’t blame the dancer of being protective. But maybe a bit more trust wouldn’t go astray.

“Why so suspicious?” Zesiro asked. “I’ve been very quiet and patient, haven’t I?”

Axel looked back and forth between the two for a moment before he arched an eyebrow. “Am I sensing some tension here?” he asked, his eyebrow arched questioningly.

Zesiro turned his attention toward Axel and granted him a surprisingly polite smile. “Perhaps a little. Mahalah is just very protective of our leader. Understandable, really.”

Mahalah reeled his back slightly in surprise while Isiah narrowed his eyes sceptically at the politeness in Zesiro’s tone. Roxbury, however, he felt a little bit worried. Zesiro was acting rather…out of character.

Axel stared at Zesiro for a moment, his expression neutral, but his gaze searching nevertheless. He was obviously gauging whether or not Zesiro was being truthful. “That so?” he said, slowly. He then unexpectedly shrugged his shoulders carelessly. “Fair enough.”

“Oh, just let the idiot do what he wants,” Kalan piped up as he idly toyed with a strand of his hair. “He’s going to be sneaking in, anyway.”

Mahalah glanced over at Kalan before back to Zesiro. After a moment of silence, he finally sighed, his shoulders drooping in defeat. “…That’s true.”

Kalan nodded his head, satisfied, and idly tossed the strand of hair he had been playing with over his shoulder. “Now, I’ll room with Isiah.”

“Then, I’ll share a room with Durriken,” Mahalah offered as he turned to regard the other runemaster. “If that’s all right?”

“Ah, that’s fine,” Duriken immediately replied with a small smile. That smile turned somewhat mischievous as he glanced over at Telem. “Then Telem can share with Falkner.”

Telem remained silent as he looked back at Durriken, a questioning expression on his face. He then glanced over at Falkner. “…Very well.”

“Ah, sure, that’s fine with me,” Falkner responded with a friendly smile, despite sheepishly scratching the back of his neck.

Fletcher suddenly uttered a purposely loud laugh from where he stood halfway down the hallway.

“What you sniggering about?” Falkner asked as he shot his brother a slightly annoyed look.

A look that had no effect on Fletcher whatsoever. “Nothing~”

“Well, I guess I’ll have to room with Clester,” Ayjay said with a sense of exasperation in his voice. Clester, however, didn’t pick up on it as he continued to simply look around, interested in his new surroundings.

Well, it seemed that everything was settled. They had their roommates and some had already chosen their rooms. So, Roxbury settled on the room closest to the stairs. As good as room as any, he supposed.

“I’ll take the one by the stairs then,” Roxbury said and then turned his attention momentarily to Axel. “Would you mind waiting a minute or two? I wish to simply put my belongings into my room. I’m more interested in meeting the other members of your guild.”

“No problem,” Axel once again answered easily. “They’ll be getting eager to meet you lot, too.”

“While you do that, I’ll get our things unpacked,” Zesiro said, that placid, polite smile still on his lips.

“Ah, ok,” Roxbury murmured.

Honestly, Zesiro was acting strangely. It was…worrying. He had been rather placid. Not meek or anything. Just…polite? Especially around Axel. He wasn’t…intimidated by him, was he? Roxbury didn’t feel or see anything intimidating about Axel, honestly. That large battle he carried around when he visited Tharsis yesterday was impressive, but he wasn’t remotely threatening with it.

He’d have to talk to Zesiro about it later.

“Ah, Axel? Mind if I have a quick word with you?” Count requested suddenly.

“Sure, what’s up?”

As Axel turned and moved toward Count, who stood by his room, his ever-faithful pooch in his arms, Roxbury turned his attention to Zesiro. And he immediately noticed that polite look on his face dissipated into that of natural stoniness.

Before Roxbury could ask him if there was something wrong, Isiah interrupted.

“You? Being civil? The world must be ending,” he stated rather dryly.

Zesiro turned his head sharply and sent Isiah a rather scathing look. “Shut it, Isa,” he said lowly. “Can’t you sense it for yourself? That redhead feels like he could take the head of a dragon with a single swing. Hell, if you give him a good enough motivation, he could head out into the Windy Plains now and take on the Great Dragon and win right now.”

He paused and sent a sideways glance in Axel’s direction and pressed his lips into a thin line for a moment. “I ain’t fucking with that.”

With that, he grabbed his luggage, along with that of Roxbury’s, before he turned and quickly made his way to the room at the end of the hall near the stairs. He slipped inside the room just as quickly.

Roxbury blinked. Before his expression creased into that of concern. He turned to look at Isiah, noticing that the medic looked a little worried himself. They shared a look before both turning to cast a quick glance toward Axel once more.

The other man stood with Count. Though he had his arms folded across his chest, his posture was relaxed and still rather open. Shoulders relaxed, posture straight, expression friendly. And Count seemed to have no trouble speaking with him. There wasn’t the slightest bit of hesitation or trepidation in the Count’s posture.

While it was true that Axel carried that impressive axe of his easily, he couldn’t really see him marching out into the Windy Plains and taking on the Fire Dragon on his own. Firstly, he appeared too sensible for that.

But there was something about him that seemed to put Zesiro on guard. Was he more powerful than what he appeared to be? Zesiro had spent years of his life needing to gauge whether or not someone was a threat to him as he conducted his secret mission. So, he would have some idea on how to judge someone.

Still…

“I can’t really see anything like that,” Roxbury admitted softly as he turned back to Isiah.

“Honesty, me either,” Isiah answered as he shoved his hands into the pockets of his medical coat. “He seemed like the supportive brother type.”

Yeah, that was what Roxbury got from him, too.

He supposed he would just have to talk to Zesiro about it later. They were sharing a room now, so they had plenty time to talk. Discuss certain things. And to…do other things…

Ahem.

~*~*~*~*~*~

Falkner was on edge. He tried not to show it by planting a carefree smile to his lips. But on the inside, he was tense. Ever since Jeroden had returned to Logre, it reminded Falkner that sometimes fragments on one’s past would always return in some way.

He was glad that Logre was reunited with his companion, a friend from his years as an imperial soldier. Logre was a good person who carried a lot of unreasonable guilt upon his shoulders. Jeroden’s return would hopefully be the boost he needed to start thinking about his own future.

Logre’s past came back for him. And that was to be a good thing. Something he needed.

Falkner just hoped and prayed that…someone from his own past didn’t come looking for him. More specifically, looking for Fletcher.

He didn’t need that. He couldn’t deal with that. Sure, he wasn’t a child anymore, but that…man…

The distinct sound of a window sliding open caused Falkner to jump. Promptly remembering that he was in his room at the inn, and that it was well after midnight, Falkner paused in his unconscious pacing and spun around. He instinctively reached toward his bow and arrows, which were never more than an arm’s length away from him at any given time, but stopped. The shadowy figure that was perched on the windowsill was familiar.

The peak of fear that Falkner felt soon fizzled out when he realised that it was only Telem. Just Telem. Not someone who would hurt or threaten him.

Telem looked perplexed and maybe even a little concerned as he silently slid from the windowsill into the room. “I caught you off guard again, it seems. Though, I wasn’t trying this time.”

Falkner winced but planted a smile on his lips and sheepishly scratched the back of his head. “Ah, yeah, I was lost in thought. Sorry, didn’t hear you.”

Telem continued to look at him. Not stare, exactly, but was looking at him in an inspecting way. His brow furrowed slightly, something he did when he didn’t truly understand the concept of something.

“You’ve been pacing your room for a while now,” he said. “I would assume restlessness, but this…feels beyond that somehow.”

…Telem was very observant, able to notice the smallest oddity in a person’s behaviour, even if he didn’t truly understand the nature of said oddity.

“Do…you think you could watch over Fletcher’s tonight?” Falkner suddenly requested, not doubt confusing the nightseeker further. He certainly startled himself by the request.

Telem tilted his head questioningly to the side. “I don’t truly see the need,” he said. “He’s sleeping at the Researchers’ Clinic, and under the watchful gaze of Varuna himself, yes? Varuna’s skills as a child were extraordinary, but they are now unfathomable. I cannot foresee any threat getting past him.”

…Unfathomable, huh? It was likely due to sheer protectiveness he had toward others. Falkner trusted both Varuna and Bryce to watch over his little brother. And from the stories that Fletcher had told him, being with those two was the safest place he could possibly be.

But as his big brother, he still worried.

“You’ve been acting strangely since that Jeroden man made his appearance,” Telem suddenly pointed out as he stepped into the middle of the room. “Does he bother you somehow?”

“No, it’s not him,” Falkner immediately replied. “It’s…something else.”

Telem took a half step forward. “Which is…?” he asked, subtly imploring him to explain. Something he did often whenever he was confused by something.

Falkner sighed and sunk down to sit on the edge of his bed. Telem was a stubborn one. He knew better than anyone, probably. But, in all honesty, he did want to talk. He did want to tell Telem what it was that was bothering him. He hadn’t spoken to anyone about it since that night. Ten years ago.

Talking about it might help ease his fears. Might help in gaining reassurance that there was nothing to worry about. A part of him felt guilty to do so, however. Sharing his burden with another. Especially someone like Telem who had already been through so much. And so much worse.

Yet…

“What I’m about to tell you…don’t tell Fletcher.”

Telem immediately nodded his head. “You have my confidence.”

“I haven’t told anyone this before. Well, besides the oldies back at home…” Falkner trailed off as he nervously interlocked his fingers together and pressed them between his knees. He wasn’t sure of how to begin explaining it. It had been so long, after all.

As Telem moved to sit next to him on the bed, Falkner decided to just be as short and blunt as possible.

“A little less then fifteen years ago, there were a string of murders within my hometown,” he began. “No clues, not warning. Quite a few people lost their lives. The murderer was never found. The murders abruptly stopped after there was a witness. A kid.”

Telem was silent for a moment, letting the short word-vomit of information to sink in. He then shifted slightly were he sat. “Was that child you?”

Falkner nodded his head sharply once. “Yeah. Since it was happening so close to home, and since I couldn’t keep my curiosity to myself, I did a bit of snooping around. I was such a nosy little shit.”

“...Has that Jeroden's return prompted you to wonder whether your own past is to return?”

“...Yeah.”

Telem shifted slightly once more, twisting to that he was facing Falkner. “There's something else.”

Falkner nodded his head slowly this time, subconsciously clenching his hands tighter. “I was spotted by the murderer…after he murdered Fletcher’s real parents.”

A sharp intake of air from Telem indicated that he was shocked to hear that.

Well, obviously. Who wouldn’t be? The truth was that Falkner didn’t find him just wandering around lost and decided to drag him to the orphanage with him. Like some sort of childish whim. The truth was…the truth was he had to take him there.

“He was only a kid,” Falkner continued. “Tiny. I was ten at the time. I grabbed him and ran. He was so small. He didn’t understand anything. He was just scared. We were the ones that got away.”

Gods, he was scared too. There was so much blood. The screams of the dying parents. Fletcher crying. He was just a baby. Could he have been next? Would he have died had Falkner not been such a nosy little shit?

Does that guy remember his face after all these years, too? Was he furious? What had the murders stopped then?

“He doesn’t know?” Telem asked.

“No,” Falkner immediately replied as he furiously shook his head. “I can’t tell him.”

Falkner immediately felt the need to pace again. So, he climbed to his feet and walked idly around his room as he continued to explain. Well, ramble really.

“The guy, he was…connected to a group of some kind,” he muttered. Just getting it off of his chest. “A religious sect, a cult. Something like that. He left these…symbols on the bodies and on the walls. It’s something I’ve memorised. If I see it again, I would definitely recognise it.”

“And of the man?” Telem asked as he slid silently from the bed. “Would you recognise him, as well?”

Falkner pinched his eyes shut to stop himself from envisioning the man’s face as he snapped his head in his direction. But it was no use. He saw him. Clear as day. As if it had happened just yesterday. His eyes wide and dark. Deranged. Drops of blood in splotches across his face. A scar in the middle of his forehead. Distinct, likely self-inflicted.

“Yeah, I would.”

And he honestly didn’t know how he would react upon seeing him again outside of his nightmares and memories.

“I haven’t told anyone else because I didn’t want to worry them,” he continued in both his rambling thoughts and restless motions. “I also worry that word might somehow reach back to that guy and he comes looking for us. It’s not that I don’t trust anyone else, I just didn’t want them to get involved out of fear.”

He felt Telem’s presence suddenly appear before him and he grabbed him by the upper arms to stop him from pacing.

“You are surrounded by very powerful and protective people,” Telem suddenly stated. “You have an assassin that would react to any threat. You have an empath that can sense the maliciousness in others. You have medic who quite possibly knows how to break every single bone in a person’s body as your guildmates.”

Falkner felt a genuine smile of amusement slip across his lips at the description no doubt describing Isiah. But he remained silent as Telem’s hands tighten against his arms.

“And…you have me,” Telem said softly, prompting Falkner to lift his head up, his gaze leaving the floor to look upon Telem’s face. “If such a man ever returns, I will know. I will see him before he sees you. I will find him. He will not live to carry through with his malicious intentions. I will protect you, no matter what. That, I pledge to you.”

…A pledge?

A sincere one. And…he truly meant it. Falkner could just see it in his eyes.

He…

“I know I am not of much comfort to you,” Telem said as he suddenly appeared somehow cutely awkward as he dropped his arms to his sides. “This…reassurance stuff is not something I’m remotely qualified in.”

Another sincere smile, small and soft, appeared on Falkner’s lips and he shook his head. “No, you’re doing fine,” he said.

He hesitated for a moment before Falkner raised his arms and wrapped them around Telem’s neck in a hug. He felt the nightseeker immediately stiffen against him, but he held on and rested his chin upon Telem’s shoulder. Soon, the tension in Telem’s body relaxed and though awkward and unsure, wrapped his own arms around him in return.

“Thank you,” he whispered.

Telem said nothing in returned. Just tightened his arms around him.

He was still worried that that man would come for him, for Fletcher. The only way for that fear to lessen would be for that murderous bastard and whatever clan he was part of would cease to exist in some form of manner.

But Falkner wasn’t a child anymore. And he wasn’t alone.

~*~*~*~*~*~

How did one let oneself be happy? How could it been done, when one's life had been in the servitude of others? How did one get passed the guilt, the uncertainty, to allow oneself to actually...just be happy?

Those were the questions that Logre were troubled by.

He wanted to try his hand at moving on, moving forward. He truly did. He just didn't know how. That was why he was so troubled. He also felt guilty about being troubled, though.

Only a day had passed since Jeroden, his friend and companion from his days as a dutiful soldier of the empire, virtually returned from the dead. In a rather dramatic fashion. Saving him from three obviously up to no good hoodlums that tried to capture him for who knows what reasons.

And Logre had been holed up in this room, on the second floor at the Researchers' clinic, lost to his own thoughts. It wasn't as if he wasn't relieved that Jeroden was back. That he was alive. He was. He was incredibly relieved. But even after his talk with Nitish, even after he helped him sort through his own feelings and emotions, Logre still felt overwhelmed by everything.

He was reassured that it was natural. Especially for someone like him. A highly trained soldier. Someone who had been taught since he could walk to put the empire first. Suddenly having the ability to think about himself wasn't going to be easy for him to simply accept.

But his utterance of wanting to move forward was a huge step in the right direction.

Honestly, there were times where Logre felt unworthy of this guild. Not that he would say it aloud, mind. Not that he would try to put some distance between them. Not with this guild. They wouldn't let him. They'd drag him back kicking and screaming if he tried to stay away.

Logre sat down on the edge of the bed in the room and turned to look out the window. Just outside, just below the window stood Jeroden. Free of his armour and in "normal" clothing. He stood with his back to the residence as he spoke to both Achyuta and Xander.

His gaze lingered on Jeroden. His arms folded across his chest, tightening the shirt against his back. The taut muscles in his back prevalent, especially when he laughed at something. Achyuta seemed to be speaking with Jeroden easily, though he could honestly talk to anyone. Xander appeared less forthcoming with his words, but he, too, seemed rather relaxed. It seemed that spending time with Ciaran had indeed been beneficial for him.

Watching the three interact, watching as Jeroden spoke and laughed freely...Logre never thought he would see him again. Let alone standing out in the streets of Tharsis. Speaking with his guildmates. Standing outside of the residence where their guild, and their prince, stayed.

It seemed so surreal.

Maybe that was one of the reasons why Logre felt overwhelmed. He never thought that something like this would happen. Could happen. And now that it had...he was afraid that it could be nothing more than a dream.

He didn't think he could handle it if it was...

The sound of the door to his room abruptly opening pulled Logre from his thoughts and observations. He immediately turned to look, mildly wondering if it was Isiah again, perhaps becoming impatient with his preverbal sulking.

However, he was surprised to see his prince step inside instead. Usually, he was out in the field under the guidance of Varuna and Bryce. But their party had been in town for the last couple of days. And they had been in the city when Logre had found himself in trouble.

"Your Highness?" Logre questioned as he made the motion to stand up.

But Baldur made a dismissive motion with his hand. "No, stay seated. Otherwise I won't be able to do this..."

Logre dutifully sat back down, though his brow did furrow in confusion. Which only grew as Bladur continued to approach him, to stand before him. Far closer than he had ever done before. But before Logre could question if his prince was feeling well or if he needed something, Baldur unexpectedly reeled his head back and...

Head-butted him on the forehead.

Logre reeled his own head back from both the impact and the surprise. His hand immediately flew up to press his palm against his forehead. There wasn't exactly any pain at the moment, though it certainly did rattle the cobwebs in his head. No, it was the shock of the entire thing that left him wide eyed and utterly speechless.

Baldur, his prince, the son of his emperor, just head-butted him!

"Listen here, Logre, as your prince I order you to look to the future instead of the past. To think about your own well-being instead of others. And to lead by example. If someone like me can learn to move forward, to let myself be an actually explorer, to willingly go out into the fields with them, then you can to. In fact I damn well order it, do you hear?!"

Logre simply stared at his prince, who in return glared at him.

Before he could manage any kind of response, even if it was just a stutter of acceptance, Baldur huffed somewhat childishly as he spun on his heel and stalked from the room. As he stomped out into the hallway, he shouted another order to someone else. "You! Get in there!"

About a minute later, Jeroden appeared in the doorway. He peered into the room, a truly perplexed expression on his face. Odd. Jeroden had been outside a mere moment ago. Did Prince Baldur's voice carry that well?

"You all right there, Logy?" Jeroden asked as he stepped inside.

"Ah, yeah," Logre replied, still well and truly stunned by what had just occurred. "Just...His Highness head-butted me."

Jeroden barked out a sharp, amused laugh, almost as if it came out purely by accident before he snapped his mouth shut and smiled. "That's a new one. I wonder where he learnt to do that."

Logre would blame Isiah, but he had never seen the medic actually head-butt anyone. So he was going to place the blame on either Bryce or Blayden. Maybe even Varuna. Hell, maybe it was Miach who taught him something like that.

"Isiah is going to get a kick out of it," Logre murmured as he idly rubbed his forehead before he dropped his arm listlessly to the side.

"Your guildmates are very protective of you," Jeroden commented out of the blue with an amused smile. "It's a both good and amusing thing."

He was obliviously insinuating about their response to those men that attacked him. As Logre was allowed to recuperate further in a more comfortable setting, he asked what had happened to those three men that accosted him in that alleyway, and got some rather surprising expressions of confusion and dismissiveness.

"What men? Those men didn't exist. What you talking about?"

They were so...blatant in their lies, though. Their acts of innocence was so fake, it was comical.

They continued to play with the oblivious act, pretending as if they had no idea what he was talking about. As if that never happened. But Logre knew better. He knew better to push for further questions. Obviously his guild had managed to find those responsible. And...well, it would be better if he didn't know what happened after that. That way should he ever be questioned about mysterious disappearances, he could be somewhat sincere in his admissions of not knowing anything.

Though, whatever had indeed happened (or rather "not" happened), Jeroden seemed to be aware of it. Partly, or fully, he certainly knew something. And was thoroughly amused by it.

"His Highness is also protective of you, it seems," Jeroden added. "Just like his father."

A lot of people seemed to be protective of him. If the fact that his guildmates had all decided to hang around at the researchers' clinic, instead heading out into the fields like they had originally planned, was anything to go by.

He...couldn't let them down. They wanted him to at least try his hand at this moving on thing. He had to try. For their sake. As well as his.

"Jeroden, we should just talk for a bit," Logre said.

Thankfully, Jeroden nodded his head. "Yeah, that would be wise," he said as he moved and sat down next to Logre on the bed. He chose to sit close to him. Not touching, mind, but still very close.

This...should be interesting. How well two emotionally stunted soldiers would be able to talk, though, was anyone's guess.

Now, how to start their conversation?

Thankfully, yet again, Jeroden was the first to speak. "I know my reappearance was startling to you," he said as he turned to face him, his knee brushing against his. "And I apologise for that. I just wanted to see you again."

"No, I know," Logre immediately replied as he turned slightly to face Jeroden in return. "I am relieved that you're here. Gods, I know it doesn't seem that way, but I am."

Turning to face Jeroden made it impossible for Logre to look anywhere but his eyes. But he did see, and did relief upon seeing, a smile spread across Jeroden's lips.

"I know," he said. "My return could have gone better. But I've always been a bit outlandish, hm?"

Logre had to smile at that himself. "Yes. You never did things by half, did you?"

Though coming out of the shadows to punch out the man attacking him and then sweeping him into his arms in order to take his to safety, was definitely something Jeroden would do. He hadn't done anything quite like it in the past, but he always playfully stated that he would.

"I'm a loudmouth, true," Jeroden continued, his smile taking on a hint of that cheekiness Logre remembered when they were both fledging soldiers. "But I've never said anything I didn't mean."

He suddenly placed his hand atop of Logre's that rested on the bed between them. And Logre felt his pulse quicken. He was alluding to his vow...

"I meant every word of that," Jeroden said with sincerity as he leaned his head forward, toward him to ensure that Logre was to look into his eyes, to not only hear his honesty, but to see it as well. "I realise now that I may have gotten a little carried away. But I won't take any of it back. And I'll repeat it as many times as necessary. But if you-"

"I didn't hate it," Logre interrupted him. "It just...surprised me. To think that Emperor Afrodr would request such a thing. And for someone to actually mean it..."

An expression that was a mixture of fondness and exasperation appeared on Jeroden's face and he shook his head. "You've always been a martyr."

"That's not true," Logre immediately protested.

He wanted to say more, but Jeroden silenced him when he suddenly but tenderly took his chin in his other hand. "Yes, it is."

There...there was that genuine fondness again.

Jeroden leaned forward, toward him a little more. Though slight and subtle was the movement, it made Logre's breath hitch in his throat nevertheless. His face was really quite close to his. It would be easy to...

"Hah," Jeroden suddenly sighed and pulled away from him as he removed his hand from his chin.

Logre was honestly surprised at how disappointed he felt when Jeroden pulled away. And how cold he suddenly felt when he pulled his hand back as well. Thankfully, much to his relief, his other hand stayed atop of his against the bed.

"You've got yourself quite the guild," Jeroden said, his comments somewhat out of the blue. "To think that Achyuta and Xander would be here, also. And that Achyuta had a twin. Bit of an asshole, though, but I like him. It's going to be a riot riling him up."

Despite the disappointment he felt earlier, a chuckled slipped passed Logre's lips and he nodded his head. "He's a strange on, even for an imperial, but he has his reasons for being so."

"Do you enjoy being around them?"

That question was really quite out of the blue and Logre felt his brow furrow slightly in confusion. "Of course I do."

"Is it ok for me to get to know them, too?"

Oh...

"Well, if you..." Logre paused for a moment in an attempt to find the right words. "If you want to fulfil your vow to me, you really should try to get along with my guild."

Jeroden's expression brightened, though he also appeared as if he had expected that answer. "Ah, more than reasonable."

"Yeah," Logre said before he smiled as he turned to look away from Jeroden. However, he leaned toward him nonetheless, his shoulder pressing against his. "Besides, I want you to. You say I'm the martyr here, but you deserve happiness, too."

"So, let us both have a go at this happiness thing," Jeroden continued as his hand pressed a little more firmly against his, his fingers, coarse from a driveblade yet still somehow tender, curled around his hand. "The two of us. We've got a lot to learn."

Logre curled his fingers against Jeroden's and his smile became easier to hold. "Yeah. We do."

Maybe he could, they could get used to this happiness thing after all. If the two of them stick together, they'll surely work it out. 

But there was another question that had been bothering him, too. One that made him feel a sharp spike of guilt in his chest...

~*~*~*~*~*~

Logre lay sprawled awkwardly on the bed; his arm listlessly flopped over his face and eyes. A low, but deep-seated headache was beginning to make its presence known to him. His eyes also burn with a gritty sensation and his chest felt heavy. He probably had a fever, too, just to top it all off.

He, however, was pretty certain he knew the reason he felt like...shit.

Crying like a child was the cause.

It was almost terrifying in a way how he couldn't stop himself from crying. He eventually did, obviously, but it took him so long. Ten, fifteen minutes perhaps. Of course he first tried to play off the sudden bout of crying as a side effect of whatever sleeping aid those three guys used on him. But he knew it wasn't true. It was from the pent-up emotions that he locked away for over ten years finally reaching their breaking point.

He just broke down.

The shock, the surprise, the sheer relief. It all acuminated into one large crying fit. He shouldn't be all that surprised, to be honest. He always knew at the back of his mind that one day the stress of having to hide for ten years, of having to lie to those he learnt to care for, to lie to himself would one day come back to bite him in the ass.

He should probably be grateful that it happened in a secluded room at the Researchers' Clinic. And not out in the wilderness of one of the labyrinths.

It was...all Jeroden's fault. Yeah. Jeroden was always able to make him feel and see things that no one else could. Emperor Afrdor himself once said, so long ago, that Jeroden was able to put some different expressions on his face.

Speaking of which, he was sure the others of his guild were worried. Nitish, after all, could sense emotions. And he would have unwittingly experienced a tonne of them with him. And what of those three guys that ambushed him? he vaguely remembered hearing the voices of his guildmates before the shocking revealing of Jeroden's return.

Gods, Jeroden...

All his thoughts would returned to that man. No matter whatever else he tried to think about, they would do a complete 360 and return back to Jeroden. His thoughts were a jumbled mess. Understandable, probably. But it didn't make the act of thinking any easier.

Honestly, all he could think was that Jeroden was alive. He was alive. The more he thought about it, the less he cared about the other circumstances of what happened to him. He was alive.

And...apparently in love with him.

Gods, that was another thing that was continuously running around in his head. Jeroden was sarcastic but he wasn't a liar. And he wouldn't lie about something like that. But...dear god, that man deserved so much better. So much better.

But…it also made his heart quicken. Almost as if he was…happy by the thought. He pushed that aside, though.

The sound of the doorhandle moving and unhitching the lock pulled Logre from his thoughts. He didn't move, however. Just kept his pitiful slouched resting on the bed. Even as he heard the sound of boots clack against the hard flooring to make their way over to him.

A sweet scent touched his nose as a hand landed on his shoulder.

"Let's do something about that headache of yours," came Isiah's voice.

Logre sighed and dropped his arm away from his eyes. Though the light of the room hurt his eyes for a moment, he was immediately able to recognised Isiah as he stood near the bed. One hand continued to rest on his shoulder while the other held a tea cup, no doubt filled with some kind of herbal tea that would help with his emotion induced headache.

"Yeah, ok," Logre murmured, his voice thick yet tired. And he pushed himself to sit up, though it took quite a bit of effort to do so. His head also spun from the movement and he had to sit on the edge of the bed with his head in his hands for a few moments.

And Isiah's hand stayed on his shoulder the entire time, waiting. Probably silently uttering a refresh spell or two to help make him feel better. Isiah wasn't the motherly type, as one would imagine those in the healing profession would be, but he was a bloody good medic. And Logre was glad that he was there.

Silently, Logre lifted his head from his hands and turned in Isiah's direction, only to find the cup of herbal tea pushed toward him.

"Drink this," Isiah instructed. "It'll help with the headache. And maybe clear your mind a little."

The sweet scent was something Logre hadn't encountered before, but he trusted Isiah and his brothers. They knew their stuff, after all.

"How are you feeling?" Isiah finally asked him as he walked to stand a foot or so in front of him, but leaned back against the medical counter behind him.

And Logre uttered a mirthless laugh. Normally he would brush off such concern, insist that he was fine with a half-smile before abruptly changing the subject. But he couldn't do that now. Not with Isiah. Not that the previous habit worked too well with him, anyway.

"I honestly haven't a fucking clue," Logre replied with a croaky voice.

"Just word vomit it all out for me then," Isiah suggested.

Vomit wasn't the best word for Isiah to use at the moment. Honestly, after learning that Jeroden had endured hell for ten years as a farmer, not knowing what the hell was going on and having to leave everything behind made Logre want to vomit. He just couldn't imagine having to live like that on his own...

Then again, he kinda did, didn't he?

Logre took a long sip of his tea, letting the warm liquid wash down his throat to his stomach. There was a flowery taste mixed with honey. It was sweet, but not overly so. It tasted nice. Warm and inviting. Just concentrating on drinking this tea actually made him feel a little better.

But he knew that Isiah would like to know how he was truly feeling. What happened to him. He must look like a wreck. Really, Isiah hadn't pointed it out, so he must look like total shit.

Logre finished his tea in silence, Isiah waiting patiently for him as he placed the empty cup onto the bed next to him. He then took a moment to try to compose himself, to gather his thoughts in a manner that would make sense. He tried to treat it as if he was giving a report for a mission or request. Get to the key points as quickly as possible and as rationally as possible.

Of course as soon as the words "Jeroden is a friend of mine" all composure went out the window and he just ended up blubbering about what Jeroden had told him, how he was another soldier to aid the emperor's mission, how he was betrayed, how Logre thought him dead after witnessing his airship crash.

Everything came out all jumbled. A complete and utter mess. Much like him to be completely frank.

"I see," Isiah murmured after Logre had blurted it all out. "Your reactions are completely justifiable. To have someone you thought dead return to your life? That would be like my old man returning from the grave. If he did that with me, well...I don't know how I would react. Punch him in the guts?"

Despite himself, Logre felt his lips twitch into a half smile. "I'd imagine he would expect nothing less."

Isiah suddenly pushed away from the counter and folded his arms across his chest. Not exactly in a stern manner, but a firm one nonetheless. "There's something else, isn't there?"

Yes, of course there was. The most confusing thing of all.

"He's...also in love with me," Logre confessed, swallowing back the bubble of guilt that lodged in the back of his throat.

Isiah shifted on his feet and unexpectedly snorted. "So he comes back into your life by potentially saving your life, whisking you away to safety before unleashing a few bombshells and then admitting to be in love with you? Well, one can't say that he doesn’t do things by half."

A laugh bubbled up from Logre's throat so unexpectedly that it caught him by surprise. Still, he laughed lowly and it felt relieving in a way. "No, he certainly doesn't. Never have," he murmured as he harshly rubbed at his eyes with the heels of his palms.

"Is that one of the reasons you're feeling so out of sorts?" Isiah asked as he shoved his hands into his pockets. "Are your thoughts now centring on why he would be?"

Logre didn't, couldn't reply.

Isiah, however, seemed to continue for him. "Let me guess; something along the lines of deserving so much better than a bitter, scarred old man like you? Hmm? Am I close?"

Spot on, actually. As per usual. By the gods, it was unnerving when he did that. And Nitish was supposed to be the psychic one.

Isiah suddenly gave him with a stern, piercing look. "Logre, you're thirty-three years old. You have at least another sixty years left in you. Are you seriously going to spend the next several decades moping about the past? Something you had no control over? Something you still have no control over?"

...Trust Isiah to ask him such a hard question.

He...had been living in the past, hadn't he?

"Nitish would also like to speak with you," Isiah suddenly said.

Logre couldn't prevent himself from wincing. He was about to decline, not wanting to cause the runemaster further stress with his raging emotions at the moment, but Isiah clamped a hand on his shoulder. And Logre knew the medic long enough to know what whenever he did that, he wasn't going to take no for an answer. And...it also meant that what he had requested of him was to the benefit of his health.

"It'll be good for you," Isiah continued. "Nitish has become quite adept at understanding the emotions of others. And I'm fairly certain that you've become confused by your own. At least let him talk you through some of them."

He...had a point. He had pushed aside his own feelings for so long that they're become foreign to him.

"You've experienced more emotions in the last twenty-four hours than you had in the entire ten years you've been here," Isiah said as he dropped his hand from his shoulder and shoved both of his hands into the pockets of his white medical coat. "Now, he's waiting outside for you. Just let him see you at least. Everyone is worried."

"I know," Logre relented with a sigh. "Tell them I'm sorry, yeah?"

"I can but they'll return that there's nothing to be sorry about, so it's a waste of time," Isiah countered as he turned and walked to the door.

Logre sighed again and leaned forward to rest his elbows on his knees. Perhaps it would help him to speak with Nitish. He felt awkward, foolish even to burden a younger man like that. Especially one who he had been in charge of protecting during their mission. But Nitish wasn't a child anymore. He had grown a lot over the last year.

Unlike him, it seemed.

The door opened and Logre lifted his head to watch as Nitish step into the room. He paused to close the door silently behind him before he turned to give Logre his full attention. His face appeared slightly pale, as if he hadn't been able to rest for the past few hours, and his eyes seemed...sad. He, however, held himself high, his shoulders relaxed, and his hands folded in front of him. He had always very elegant and graceful.

"How are you feeling?" he asked softly.

Foolish, to be completely honest. A emotionally-stunted soldier rediscovering the world of emotions and feelings.

Nitish's gaze softened further, as if able to hear his musings. Or at least read his facial expressions and emotions. He sighed and closed the distance between them. He then sat on the bed next to Logre, his hands folded neatly atop of his lap. He gazed down at them for a moment, silent. And Logre remained silent, too.

Finally, after a somewhat awkward silence, Nitish seemed to nod to himself before he lifted his eyes and looked at Logre. "Give me your hand," he unexpectedly requested.

Logre was surprised by the request, but he soon realised that Nitish could better understand an object, or in this case a person's aura if he touched them in some way. It allowed for him to ground himself while freely exploring their aura.

Though he was reluctant, Logre offered Nitish one of his hands. His left. Scarred and battled hardened over the years. Nothing like Nitish's flawless, slender hands. Even so, Nitish clasped his hand tightly with both of his without hesitation. And he closed his eyes for a moment.

"Relief," Nitish said after another moment of silence, though his eyes remained closed. "You're happy that Jeroden is alive. You've missed him so much. Much more than you thought. Much more than you realised. It is that realisation that made you fall into a state of shock when Jeroden returned to you."

Logre's mouth dropped open in surprise to hear that. He, of course, gaped at Nitish, though the talented runemaster continued to gently stroke his thumb over the back of Logre's hand, seemingly oblivious to his bewilderment.

"The shock you felt when you learnt of some truth, of him, led to a moment of excitement, to know that he wasn't taken from you in such a way," Nitish continued, undaunted. "But that was quickly overridden with guilt. Guilt that you had seemingly forgotten him. Guilt that you had languished in your own despair while he suffered through his. Guilt that you had accepted that he was dead, even though you also felt that you should have held more firmly onto the belief that he was still alive somewhere."

...By the gods, how...?

Nitish slowly opened his eyes and turned to look up at him. "You consider yourself selfish, but you are one of the most selfless people I have, we have ever known. But that selflessness has turned you into a martyr. You won't allow yourself to be happy. Because you think you don't deserve it. All because you tried your best to honour your emperor’s memory and dream for the empire."

"Th-that's not true..." Logre tried to argue back, but his voice was unexpectedly and unnervingly weak and thick with emotion.

Nitish shook his head and released his hand, only to push himself to his feet and unexpectedly step in front of Logre and wound his arms around his neck, gently guiding him to rest his forehead against his chest. Logre fell limp and completely speechless as Nitish rested his cheek atop of Logre's head.

"These emotions aren't new," Nitish explained. "They've always been there. But you've pushed them aside, ignored them whenever they flared up. All for the sake of others."

That...that simply wasn't true. It couldn't be. He was just a stupid old man being used as a puppet for an empire he thought he knew but didn't.

"But now you've been presented with the opportunity to share with Jeroden all the things you thought you never would again," Nitish said as he leaned back to frame Logre's face in his hands and tilt his head back to look up at him. "Don't let this opportunity slip away."

He...was right. Jeroden was back in his life. Back and alive. Scarred like him. Bitter like him in some aspects. But he was alive. And happy to see him as well. God, oh god that was all that mattered in the end. He had his friend back.

His...friend?

That pledge…

"Please," Nitish whispered, his blue eyes shimmering with unshed tears. "Let yourself be happy."

"I...don't know how," Logre pitifully murmured in return, well aware now that more tears were pooling in his eyes.

"The first step is to say you want to try," Nitish gently returned. "So say it. Say it aloud."

There words were there. On his lips. But it felt so hard. "I...want to try to be happy for once."

Though his eyes were teary, Nitish smiled at him. A bright smile of relief. "Yes. We will help you. Now is your time to be watched over by everyone."

That...sounded nice. It won't be easy. He likely wouldn't make it easy. But it would be unintentional. Brought on by habit. But he...he really wanted to try. Just try it. Try to look to the future instead of the past. He wasn't tied there anymore. He was...free now, wasn't he? Was that one of the reasons why he continues to cling to the past? Because he didn't know what else to do?

Nitish suddenly hugged him again, his arms around his neck. And this time Logre found the strength to wrap his arms around him in return, actually letting himself enjoy the comfort of his embrace.

"I'm so proud of you," Nitish unexpectedly said. "Now we all can move on and look to the future. All of us. Together."

CtS Crew:

Because of the large number of members, it’s would be impossible and unfair for everyone to get presents for everyone. So they settle for two - one for their significant other and the second through the use of Secret Santa

They would open the gifts from their significant other on Christmas eve, saving the Secret Santa gifts for Christmas morning where they’ll gather in the tear room and muse about the gifts before having a hearty breakfast~

In the days following up to Christmas they walk around the city, as a group but in pairs, to look at the Christmas decorations, rugged up with scarfs and coats, arm in arm and snuggling. Yes Rahas will be dragged long, and the Cosmos guild will accompany them~

Matron/Hana would start decorating the inn on the 1st of December without delay. Christmas trees everywhere, but especially the tea room, a private one saved for just the Guardians

Mistletoe is literally hanging from every nook and cranny too

The guys taking over the kitchen for the day to make Christmas cookies

Christmas photos are a must!

Also spend Christmas Eve at the bar when Cass throws a party and then Christmas day at the inn where Matron/Hana puts on a massive lunch for them (they’re going to get sooo fat~)

Staying out past midnight to watch the fireworks display~

ALE/C Crew:

They’ll also settle for Secret Santa gifting because they have a vast number of members too. Of coure Logre, Kirjonen, Ciaran, Count, Baldur, and Wiglaf would be included~ Those in relationships will get their significant others another gift, thoughtful and small, giving at exactly midnight~

Christmas eve/night will be spent at the Count’s place where a huge Christmas party is held each year. The guild will be the honorary guests. And on the stroke of midnight, they’ll celebrate Christmas and the couples will share kisses (they repeat that tradition on New Year’s Eve too :3c)

They’ll spend Christmas day actually out in the Windy Plains, cooling off in the river and putting on a party and a massive feed where everyone mingles together like the one big family that they are. The food will be cooked on BBQs and play games like cricket or beach football and often break out into water fights :D

The Secret Santa gifts are opened before they leave for the campout in the Windy Plains

Christmas Eve the younger ones go around carolling of key because why not? They’ll drag Baldur with them this year also because why not? Zoran really likes this tradition

Make Christmas decorations/baubles with the names of everyone in their guild/family and hang them in the Christmas tree. The couples are likely to add their names together as well because they’re not sappy enough, am I right?

Cold chocolate drinks in the back garden under the shade of the trees and just talking while some decorate the trees and bushes with decorations

Walking around the city at night and admiring all the Christmas decorations. They’ll do this in a group but are likely to pair of as well. They’ll stick together though so aren’t out of each other’s sight for long. They’re likely to stay out for the majority of the night as it’s so warm and still