#reen writes

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He paused, sensing a presence before gazing toward the large window overlooking the mountains beyond Rata Sum. A silhouette was standing there, back turned to him.

Flax felt his panic rising for a moment. An assassin? No, the intruder wouldn’t be standing in plain sight like this. As he stared at the dark figure, he recognized the posture: a rather tall, lanky Asura who stood with great pride. He breathed a sigh of relief.

“Councillor Ardjin,” Flax finally spoke up. The other Asura didn’t speak, only lifting a glass of wine in acknowledgment. “You’re usually better at announcing your visits.”

At that, Ardjin chuckled lightly. “I must’ve forgotten to send word. Apologies, my friend.”

Flax reached over to the panel by the door and activated the low lights, which dimly lit his living space with a warm orange hue. He could make out Ardjin’s features now.

The pristine white attire he always wore, the graying hair tied back neatly at the nape of his neck, his long ears tattered and torn from the accident. Flax had overseen to Ardjin’s injuries and medical care after an accident. He didn’t know what accident had occurred, but there were unsavory rumors surrounding the incident. He pushed those thoughts aside as he approached the other Asura.

“What’s the reason for this visit?” he asked, moving to the couch and taking a seat. Ardjin turned to face the High Councillor and Flax’s brows furrowed.

The medics did the best they could with Ardjin’s injuries, but the man had lost his left eye. His eye was replaced with a bio-mechanical one, which was dark in his socket while the pupil was faintly glowing. Overall, Ardjin had recovered relatively well with barely a scar on his body. Yet, his charming smile was missing, replaced with a stern and tired expression.

Night was approaching and Aurenthir made camp close to an Itzel settlement. These jungle hylek had been a great help to him, and he in turn aided them when they needed him to mend their wounded.

He’s always been fond of the amphibian folk, even back when he used to live in the Grove. The knowledge he obtained with the hylek back in Caledon came in handy when he first met with the Itzel. He earned their trust, offering his skills as a tracker, hunter, and mender. In return, they taught him a great deal about the jungle, and as a bonus, allowed him to learn of their culture. He was grateful to have good allies in the jungle. The Itzel looked out for him, and he returned the favor.

A paw touched at his forearm and he turned his attention to Vernus. The hound looked at him with a doe-eyed expression.

“Be patient. I’ll get your food ready when the stew’s done.” Aurenthir leaned in to smooch the pooch’s head. Vernus did a small snap of his snout in protest, a tiny whine escaping. Aurenthir motioned for the hound to return to his spot, and Vernus complied, settling down to wait for his food.

Aurenthir looked back to the pot he was stirring over the campfire. His guest was still out cold. He had checked the other Sylvari over for any major injuries, patching up small wounds with healing salves. The leather coat was neatly folded to be used as a pillow for the lad’s head.

Two hand-carved wooden bowls were laid out. One for him and one for his mysterious guest. That is if the lad woke up and joined him for dinner. If not, the stew would still be good in the morning.

Fortunately, the other Sylvari was starting to awaken, groaning as he sluggishly sat up. Aurenthir reached into his pack to pull out a reed-woven flask of water along with a small wooden cup. He poured the water and got up, approaching the other Sylvari. He knelt by the lad’s side, carefully handing the cup to him.

“Here, drink this,” Aurenthir guided the Sylvari’s hand to his lips. The moment the water touched the lad’s lips, he gripped the cup and drank thirstily. It was clear the smaller Sylvari was dehydrated and Aurenthir poured him another cup.

“Thank you,” the Sylvari’s voice came out course as the he took in breathes between gulps.

Aurenthir got up and returned to the pot. He carefully pulled it off the fire, laying on a flat rock slab to keep it off the dirt. He began filling the bowls with the stew of vegetables and meat.

Vernus approached him and Aurenthir gave the hound a quick pat on the neck before reaching for the plate of mixed scraps that went unused for the stew. He laid it in front of his fern hound and Vernus chomped away at the meal. Aurenthir looked over his shoulder to see if his reef drake wanted any scraps, but she seemed to be fast asleep. Vermillia tended to hunt for her own meals by the river, and perhaps she had done so this night.