forum And God knows (closed)

Started March 18, 2023 by @ElderGod-yellowqueen

tune

As they climbed the stairs, Myahil unconsciously leaned more and more on Alora just to keep himself upright. Though, he wasn’t exactly upright when they reached the top of the stairs. He was more dangling from her arms, and he was also starting to laugh like a drunkard that had just heard a joke. The butterflies around them were being hilarious though.

He continued to laugh and snicker as Alora moved to open the door. Instinctively, Myahil grabbed her shoulder with his left hand, holding her with a gentle but firm grip that kept him from crumpling to the floor. She had a nice shoulder, even the butterflies that followed them agreed.

Alora dropped him on the bed, then went to secure the room. He’d be helping her if he could, but right now all he could do was stretch out and laugh. Laugh at the butterflies, laugh at the situation, laugh at everything.

After a few minutes, Myahil finally quieted down. He stared blankly at the ceiling for a long moment, his eyes slowly drooping. He then saw Alora again. A delirious little smile grew on his face.

“The butterflies are beautiful, aren’t they? They like you,”he mumbled, his words almost incoherent. He wasn’t even aware that the butterflies flying around the room weren’t real.

Myahil chuckled breifly, then his eyes drifted closed. Within moments, his breathing settled into a calm rhythm, signaling that he was out cold.

Alora shook her head as he started laughing, gritting her teeth. She was thankful the hallway had been cleared of any people so they wouldn't witness Mya having a psychotic break. She didn't need any of them questioning their presence.

After their room was secured, she turned back to Mya, hands on her hips. She wanted to tear into him about how stupid it was for him to start laughing like that. He could have blown their cover. She pushed her hood down and rolled her eyes as he spoke. She barely made out what his said. It didn't matter, he was asleep not long after that.

Alora didn't feel comfortable leaving Mya alone. Not only was she worried that someone might come and hurt him, she was worried he might blow their cover. That they couldn't afford. She wasn't going to risk either of their lives.

She needed to replenish their supplies but she woukd have to wait until Mya had awoken. She decided to go the bathroom and take a shower to wash the mud off off her hair and the day's events off her skin. She kept one ear towards the door, ready to sping a moments notice.

Myahil remained asleep for a while, long enough for Alora to take a pleasantly long shower. Though, it wasn’t restful. Not long after he’d fallen asleep did he start dreaming, twisted memories of Cecelia’s death playing over and over. Then, it changed to her corpse being revived. She came back to him, promising him the love that he’d so dearly missed, then pushed him down into a deep pool of water until he drowned.

Myahil burst awake with a horrified gasp, soaked in sweat, his entire body shaking and his arm aching badly. He rolled onto his side, curling and pulling at his hair, green tears oozing from his eyes.

“Cecelia. Oh, Cecelia, tell me it’s not real. Please, please, please… It… It can’t be real. Cecelia?”he whimpered.

His eyes searched for her, his vision blurred by tears. He just wanted to know that his dream wasn’t reality, that Cecelia hadn’t actually tried to kill him. But, Cecelia was taking her time to appear. It wasn’t helping him at all.

Alora paused in her shower as she heard something in the other room. She shut off the water to the shower. She had thankfully washed all the suds out of her hair and off her body. She grabbed towel and wrapped it around herself. She had a ball of water hovering over her palm as she creaked the door open and poked her head out, looking for a threat. When she found none, she walked into the room and looked at Mya.

He was crying and shaking. She sighed. As she heard him say his dead wife's name, her shoulders dropped and sent the water away. She remembered the days when she did nothing but cry and scream for her dead lover.

She slowly walked to the bed, leaving a trail of water droplets on the floor. She gently placed her hand on his cheek. She told herself it was only because she wanted him to stop crying. She didn't do very well with emotional people. "Mya," she murmured, brushing away a tear. "it's alright, you're alright."

She sat down on the bed next to him, glancing at the door before down at him. "Everything is going to be alright."

Myahil heard approaching footsteps and he reflexively quieted, his mind whirling through scenarios of taking care of intruders in an instant. Then, he warily rolled over, all thoughts of intruders vanishing. Cecelia, Alora, and the Priestess he’d loved were all walking toward him in various states of concern. The dream was just a dream.

Then, Cecelia and the Priestess, who were flanking Alora, moved toward her, and into her. His still teary eyes, one of which had turned white, made it hard to see, but it seemed like Alora’s face was now strangely blurred. He couldn’t tell which of the three women was approaching him, or if it was all three somehow.

He leaned on his elbow as she closed on him. Then, her hand was on his cheek, her thumb wiping away his tears. By Rhinacules himself, he missed this. How he’d missed it.

After a moment of listening to her soothing words, Myahil reached up and grabbed her hand, holding it tenderly in his own.

“I must ask, even though it will sound strange… who are you? I cannot tell… I…”he trailed off, looking away. He wanted to say how confusing, no, unnerving, it was, to be unsure of who he was talking to, but he just couldn’t. He had only ever shared his true feelings with his closest advisor, Fwynal, but he wasn’t here. So, what could he do?

The first thing he thought of, was to squeeze her hand. He needed the solidity, the comfort. And, it might convey his unease without him having to actually admit it.

Alora had to refrain from rolling her eyes or snarking at him. They hadn't even been together for a full day and she was already tired of his batshit crazy. Why couldn't she have been saddled with a normal person, one who didn't hallucinate and say crazy things? And one who didn't see his dead wife. Alora may be grieving her own lover but she didn't see his ghost or talk to it.

She bit her lips for a moment, holding back her comeback. Her fingers itched to slap him and try to get him out of this but she didn't want to risk him going haywire and killing them both.

"Alora, it's Alora. There's no one else here. It's just me." She summoned back that calm woman she had been just an hour ago in the woods. She could be gentle with him so long as it kept them alive. She could say soft words and give him soothing touches as long as it kept him from having a total panic attack.

"What did you dream about?" Maybe if she kept him talking it would keep her from having to. She didn't like being nice and sweet. Her fingers were itching to kill someone. it would be Mya if she didn't depend on his survival for her own.

She didn't like how he held her hand, or at least, that's what she told herself. It had been so long since someone had just touched her without intent to harm or kill. It felt nice, different. His hand was warm which was so vastly different from the cold touch of death she always had.

Myahil could tell she was annoyed. She seemed a bit too tense, and was quiet for a bit too long. She was holding something back. Then, she said her name, and Myahil couldn’t help a resigned sigh.

He didn’t know why his mind was associating Alora with his two previous loves, but he wished it didn’t. Alora wouldn’t comfort him, wouldn’t know how either. She’d be more likely to make a rude comment, hit him, kill him, or leave, than to offer comfort. And yet, she was still by his side. Why? Why was she bothering to stay by his side when she clearly didn’t want to be? Or was it just an excuse, a ploy, to get close, so she could learn of his misdeeds before putting a blade to his throat?

Her face cleared up by the time she spoke again, and Myahil’s vision was returning to normal as his tears dried. His white eye also went back to its regular amber hue, signaling his return to lucidity. He no longer saw any trace of his former beloveds. Unfortunately, that just saddened him. He missed them dearly.

“Memories. Twisted memories. Of Cecelia. It’s likely obvious by now, that she was my wife, long ago. I watched her die, and I couldn’t help her,”he mumbled, turning away from her.

Myahil noticed the droplets of water that had trailed after Alora from the bathroom. He stared absently at them, remembering Cecelia again.

“Her death is one of the reasons I am… well, insane. Alongside the pact I made as she died in my arms,”he added, shifting so he could lift his left arm.

The candlelight hit his arm at just the right angle, allowing the spiderweb of evil green veins on his lower arm to be easily seen.

“The price of the pact. Being cursed to slowly die from divine poison. A small price for what was gained.”

He lowered his arm, staring absently ahead. He had forgotten that he still held Alora’s hand.

Alora seemed to relax some as Mya became a little bit more coherent. He wasn't looking at her like she had three heads anymore so that was a plus. Then a gain, it was a better chance for him to aim and hit her now if he only saw one. But his following words had those thoughts leaving her head. He wouldn't hurt a woman he thought was his wife.

She shouldn't ask. She shouldn't care. But curiosity piqued her interest as he spoke of his wife. All she knew was that the woman was dead. She didn't know how or when. And she wanted to. She was nosy.

"What happened to your wife? If you don't mind me asking." The only reason she added in that last part was because he was unstable and she didn't want to risk him flipping out and attacking her or causing so much noise that someone came to check on them. She was not in the mood to deal with anyone today. Not after the shitty day they've had and having to deal with Mya all day. He was enough work as it was.

Alora looked at the veins in his arm as he lifted it. A curse, interesting. She looked down at Mya, wondering who the hell she had gotten saddled with.

"What was the curse for? What did you gain?" And how long until the curse killed you? She kept that last part to herself. She didn't want to overwhelm him with questions in his state. One thing at a time.

Myahil winced and sighed at her question. He knew that he probably shouldn’t have mentioned Cecelia, but if he didn’t talk, he would brood. And, that likely wouldn’t go well with Alora around. She’d likely pester him until he spoke, or otherwise get pissy because he wasn’t listening to her demands to talk. He wasn’t in the mood to deal with either outcome.

“It was your father’s second conquest of Clan Mya’s land. We were still rebuilding from the first conquest, and there was too few of us to properly fight back. We were quickly forced to retreat and hide, but we were found. Only a couple dozen of us survived, and several later died from wounds. When your father’s troops left, the survivors came out to survey the damage, and I found Cecelia, mortally wounded and near death. We had no healers left, and basic medicine wouldn’t have helped, so I held her, talked to her… Like she had always done for me,”he explained quietly. A couple tears oozed from his eyes and his voice cracked as he spoke the last bit.

He didn’t speak for a long moment, a couple more tears drifting down his face. He longed for Cecelia’s presence again, but it was just him and Alora. He didn’t know if that was a good thing or not. After his moment, he wiped the tears off and took a deep breath, reminding himself that Alora was waiting on him.

“It was a pact I made with Rhinacules, our god and namesake. He gave us the strength and time we needed to rebuild once more. And, I would serve Rhinacules as he saw fit, and carry the pain of generations,”he said.

Myahil knew his words sounded slightly off, but he wasn’t ready to share the whole truth with her, for both emotional and practical reasons. He wasn’t ready to explain that Rhinacules had essentially revived the Clan as a new race, one that was stronger and hardier, in exchange for Myahil’s service as the race’s leader. The longevity and curse were more to limit Myahil’s time as a mortal servant, so he could have plenty of time to lead the Rhinacules race into greatness before becoming the god’s Herald in the afterlife.

And, speaking of afterlife, Alora was probably thinking about that. It was poison in his arm, so, logically, the thought of ‘how long will he survive’ would come to mind. Particularly in Alora’s mind, since they were soul-bonded at the moment, and she was still unaware of his involvement in her beloved’s death.

“Also, if you’re wondering if I’m going to die soon, I’m not. It’ll be centuries or millennia yet before the poison kills me,”Myahil commented.

Alora raised her eyebrow as she waited. As suspected, she likely would have picked at him until he finally gave in or snapped. She didn't like the quiet. Silence irritated her. It had her on the edge of her seat, waiting for something to happen. She remembered how quiet it had been before her own lover had died. It had just been the calm before the storm. Unless she was following someone, she didn't want the quiet.

Her eyes looked away as she listened to him talk. They found a spot on the wall, zoning in on the terrible painting hung lopsided. She hadn't been born then. She hadn't even been a thought. Her entire life has been surrounded by war. The truth had been muddied and twisted over the hundreds of years. She couldn't recall the exact reason they were fighting. Just the version she had been told.

They were trying to take her kingdom's land. They had overpopulated and needed more space. When her father refused to give some to them, they attacked. And thus the two kingdom had been thrown into war for a millennia.

"You're a good man to your people, to take on such a burden. Especially when it was not yours to take. Your king should have been the one to do such a thing." And she said that because she was ignorant to who her companion truly was. "You are better than I would have been." She would have never done such a thing. At least not now. Perhaps if her fiance still lived, that would be a different story.

"Hmm," she hummed, "good, I'm not quite ready to die. Not until I've finished my revenge. And I can't very well do that with you stuck to me. You'll try to stop me." She was ready to be separated from him and then kill him. And then she coukd finish her crusade and be done with all of this.

Myahil barely noticed that Alora wasn’t looking at him as he spoke. Hell, he was barely looking at her. But, he was also deep in memory. The pain of that time still cut into him every time he thought of it.

“‘A good man’?”Myahil asked, chuckling mirthlessly and shaking his head.

“A desperate man is a better description. And, our ‘King’, our Chieftain, at the time was dead. We were leaderless. It took years for us to decide a new leader, but when we did, he refused to be called ‘Chieftain’. He preferred ‘Lord’, in deference to our old ways. The tradition has stuck through the generations. You and yours might call our current leader a king, and you are accurate, but he only calls himself a lord,”he added. Every word was true, if a pinch vague. Myahil had never allowed himself to be called Chieftain or King in all his time as leader of the Rhinacules race. Though, it was a tradition among the Rhinacules only, so it wasn’t surprising he was called ‘king’ by outsiders.

At her comment, he sat up slightly, looking her straight in the eye.

“I am no better than you, and you are no lesser than me. I may have pledged myself to a god in order to save my clan, but you became a vicious and brilliant warrior in order to avenge your beloved. Both actions were done out of grief. To my culture, those actions hold the same weight,”he stated.

Myahil snorted,”I won’t try to stop you, I’ll try to kill you. You’ll be attacking a member of my race, after all.”

His choice of words was starting to nag at him. Sure, it would likely keep her from having suspicions about him, but he didn’t like deceit. He hated it, in fact. If it didn’t mean risking his life, he probably would’ve already told her about his involvement in her beloved’s death, namely that he, himself, had cut the man in half. But, he was giving her half-lies and deflections instead. He didn’t like it one bit.

Alora wasn't really sure what to think of that. She thought it was strange that their leader did not wished to be called their leader. Chieftain, was the word he used. She still preferred king. She felt it was more absolute. Like her father was.

She looked at him, surprised as he sat up. It felt like he was staring straight into her soul and it was unnerving. She subtly shifted a hair away. Not because of fear but because he was making her uncomfortable with how he was looking at her.

She turned her gaze away as he mentioned her dead fiancé. Her Edric. She couldn't help but see the flaw in Mya's words. One was done out of selflessness and the other in selfishness. Had Sue bren in his position she did not think she would have gone to the lengths that he had. She would have let everyone suffer so they could feel what she did.

Alora only shook her head. "I cannot be stopped. You can try but you will fail in killing me. I will not die until my mission is complete."

She looked at him. "You want to wipe out my entire family for what we have supposedly done to you. How is this any different than that?"

Myahil noticed the way she subtly shrank from him when he sat a bit higher. He wasn’t sure of the exact reason why Alora did that, but it didn’t really matter to him. It was a reaction he’d had countless times before, for a variety of reasons. His madness, his eyes, his intensity, his authority, his resolve. All well-established reasons to explain why many backed away from him.

He watched her turn away as he mentioned her former love. Though, he missed the flaw that Alora had caught. It had been a long time since he’d really concerned himself with matters of the ‘self’. They didn’t matter in the face of duty and honor. Or… at least, that’s what he constantly told himself.

Myahil chuckled,”Good to know we share something in common.”

“How is you wishing to kill one or more of my kindred any different from me wishing to kill your family? We both wish to avenge our losses. And, we both wish to defend all that we have left. We are mirrors of each other, with only superficial differences. And thus, we are in a stalemate that will go nowhere by arguing,”Myahil retorted.

He was right. Not that Alora would ever admit that. But they were in a stalemate. Each of them could argue day in and day out about why each of then was right. And neither of them would give in to the other. So she decided to deflect instead.

She got to her feet, tightening the towel around her. Because she was still in her towel. Her hair had dried some during their conversation. It was no longer soaking wet. It was damp now. She had just barely gotten out if the shower when she had heard him cry out and rushed in ready to kill.

She cleared her throat. "If you're feeling well, I'd like to get something to eat. It's been awhile since I've had a proper meal."

It was still dark out and as much as she was itching to get supplies, that would have to wait until first light. Hopefully the downstairs tavern woukd be empty of most of its occupants. She wasn't in the mood to deal with people. She already had to deal with Mya.

"If you want to wash your clothes to clean them I can dry them when you're finished." We'll, she would pull all the water out of the clothing. And thus they would be dry.

Myahil watched her, only then realizing that Alora wasn’t even really dressed. How had he missed that? And how had he missed the sudden dampness of the bed, or on his robe nearest where Alora had been sitting?

He quickly rolled over to give Alora some privacy, though he couldn’t help a glimpse at her lovely bare legs and feet. By Rhinacules, it had been ages since he’d last paid attention to a woman’s legs, and he was just now realizing how much he’d missed it. But, why did it have to be this woman to reignite his need for companionship? Why? Why?

Her words ripped him away from his troubled thoughts, thank Rhinacules, and he contemplated his reply as he settled himself on his other side, staring at the wall. It was a good thing Alora was thinking of food, otherwise Myahil would’ve probably spiraled into a fit of dismay and confusion.

He pondered if he was up to going to get a meal. He’d have to follow Alora’s lead again, just to figure out where they could get food, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about that. Though, that thought also made him realize that he didn’t even remember how he’d gotten into the room in the first place. He recalled Alora buying the room, and her carrying him toward stairs. Then, his determination to climb those stairs. But, after the first few steps, everything steadily faded into nothingness. He had been so exhausted that he didn’t even remember the journey into the room. The next thing he remembered was waking up from the nightmarish dream of Cecelia.

“Rhinacules help me,”he mumbled uneasily.

Her next words once again brought him out of his thoughts, only to make him even more flustered. He was completely out of his territory. He knew almost nothing about the manners and habits of the Avollone people. He only knew the best ways to destroy their lives. It was unnerving to be so helpless, so ignorant.

With a shaky sigh, Myahil sat up, thinking of what he could say that wouldn’t potentially set off Alora. He wasn’t in the mood to argue with her. He just wanted to be back in the woods again, in familiar territory.

“I know the feeling regarding food, yet I am unfamiliar with the ways you want to acquire it. I don’t know your currency, traditions, or much of anything in the peaceful side of your society. Same thing with cleaning myself and my clothes. I have always bathed in a river or stream. I doubt there is either one of those in town,”he admitted softly, glancing toward Alora warily.

Alora didn't quite know if she was relieved that he rolled away from her to give her some privacy. She chastised herself for having that thought. This was not the line of thinking that she should be having. She blamed it on loneliness. That's all it was. She had been with no one romantically since the death of Edric. She had ignored and suppressed her needs. That was all this was. A need coming to surface. Nothing more.

She ran a hand through her damp hair as she walked back into the bathroom. She took a shaky breath once she had closed the door and leaned against the wood for a moment longer than she would like to admit.

Pushing off the door, she pulled the water out if her drenched clothes still in the bathtub. It wasn't the best job without having the right soaps but it would work until they got new clothes in the morning. All that mattered was being dressed enough to get some food.

She pulled on her clothes and towel dried her hair. She had made the mistake once of pulling the water out if her hair and pulled all of it out. It had left her hair brittle and had taken months to get it back to its usual state. It's not something that she woukd ever try again. And besides, she liked the waves that it made when it dried in a braid. So that's what she did with it. She braided it down her back. She would have to hide it in a hood when she went downstairs now that the mud was washed away. And she woukd buy a headscarf first thing tomorrow. Her hair was too noticeable.

Pleased enough with her appearance, she opened the door to the bathroom and stepped out. Alora looked at Mya, who was sitting on the bed and looked to be in deep thought. She raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything.

She felt very conflicted when he spoke. He was feeding her so much stuff that she coukd use ti fire back at him. It was in her nature to do so. She was no longer a kind, sweet girl. She had died when her fiancé had. And yet she found herself biting her tongue.

She told herself the reason for not snapping at him was purely if she showed him once, he wouldn't ask again. She wasn't being nice because of the way he was making her feel. And certianly not because of the way her body had lit up earlier when she had felt his gaze on her bare legs. Certianly not because of that.

"Come on," she nodded her head towards the bathroom, "I'll show you how to use it. Eill get us food while you shower." She could only handle one thing at a time. She would get the food while he washed. Because he did need to wash.

Myahil didn’t even realize Alora had left the room until he heard a door shut, but he quickly decided to focus on her words instead of her absence. It wouldn’t do any good to acknowledge the strange bit of loneliness seeping into him now that he was without her presence. In fact, he didn’t even dare approach the thought, for fear that he would have a breakdown similar to the one he’d had over the nightmarish dream earlier.

When he glanced over at her, after her return into the room, he couldn’t help turning to look at her more directly. With her being properly dressed, and with her lovely hair in a braid, she was a sight to behold. She was both formidable and beautiful, a fine combination of sharp steel and luscious skin…

Myahil quickly ripped his eyes off of her, deeply troubled by his steadily increasing tendency to admire Alora. He shouldn’t be, and yet he was. It was wrong, in so many ways. Just so wrong. And, he didn’t know what to do. He wanted nothing more than to banish the feelings, all of them, but something was keeping him from doing that, and he couldn’t tell if it was mere loneliness or not.

Her words caught his attention again and he turned slightly back to her, glancing between her and the bathroom. It seemed a sensible arrangement, though he wasn’t too fond of feeling like an idiot because of his ignorance.

“Alright,”he said in acknowledgment, moving to stand up. He then followed her lead into the bathroom, trying hard to ignore his earlier thoughts about her.

Alora did know such a thing as a time and a place for things. She just usually chose to ignore it. Not today, apparently, as she was silent as she led Mya to the bathroom. She didn't understand how much had changed between them in so little time. She blamed it on this soul binding business and her loneliness. It had been so long since she had felt bare skin in hers. She was likely mourning companionship and clinging to the first person she found. Which unfortunately was Mya.

She bent down to grab another towel out of the cabinet below the sink. She doubted Mya would want to use the one she had. Even if she dried it, it was still something she had used. She hung the towl in the rack just above the toilet.

She turned to face Mya, trying not to sigh or show her irritation for having to explain everything. She was going to treat him as if he didn't know anything, and she doubted he did know a thing.

"The sink has two nozzles. The right is cold water and the left is hot." Supposedly hot water. This was not a good inn by far. She had stayed in worse but she had been in better as well. "It's similar for the shower." She pulled back the curtain and revealed the shower nozzles. "Right is cold and left is hot. But to get the water to come out of the shower head you have to pull this tab." She demonstrated without actually turning on the shower.

"And for the toilet, you do your business, wipe, and pushed down on this handle to flush." As she mentioned before, she was treating him as if he knew nothing. "If you want to rinse out your clothes to clean them a little bit, I can dry them when you're done. We'll get a change of clothes tomorrow." What she would likely do was throw these clothes away and buy entirely new ones.

"Anymore questions?" If not, she was going to get food. Her stomach was already grumbling at the thought.

Myahil appreciated Alora’s silence and watched her grab a fresh towel. He could tell she was irritated, but looking around, he was truly lost. He had a vague idea of what the handles and nozzles did, but none of the particulars. Though, it was actually a simpler design than he’d been expecting.

He listened to her breif lesson, secretly amused by the way she was treating him. He appreciated bluntness, but she was acting like he was inept, which he was most certainly not. But, it still got the job done with absolute brilliance, which was the amusing part. Alora definitely didn’t mince words.

He nodded in acknowledgment when she mentioned washing and drying his clothes, then looked around a bit more thoroughly. More and more, everything seemed a bit more familiar. He did know a similar design that the Rhinacules used, but it was more rudimentary, and it had been decades since he’d last paid any attention to it. He would have to remedy that the next time he returned home.

“None that I can think of. Thank you,”he replied.

He started to undo his braid, taking his time both to avoid making any knots in his hair worse and to give Alora the opportunity to leave.

Alora nodded her head. She made to leave but caught Mya struggling to take his hair of the braid. She could tell it was tangled. Her own hair had been and it have taken a little work to get it out. She grabbed the comb that she had used, as there was only one. She cleaned it quickly in the sink before handing it to him silently and left and the bathroom.

Back in the bedroom, she found the cloak and clasped it around her neck. She positioned the hood over head and tucked her braid inside. She couldn't let a strand out. She realized now that it probably would have been smarter to get some food before washing her hair so she didn't have to take such measures. But it was too late now.

She grabbed the room key and left the room, making sure to lock it on her way out. Quietly, she bounded down the stairs and into the heart of the inn downstairs. There were a few patrons sitting at tables but it had cleared out for the most part. Good. She didn't feel like talking.

She went up to the bar and took a seat. The innkeeper from earlier was still there. Sje cleared her throat, catching his attention. "Two stews and pints of ale. Please." She had to force herself to add on that bit at the end. She was traveling with a monk and she was hos apprentice. She needed to make sure she fit the part.

She slid the coin across the bar and he took it, sliding her back the change, as she did only have gold coins on her. He gave her back a few silver pieces and she pocketed the coin. She would have Mya make them some silver coins later in the morning so it won't look so suspicious for then to only have gold.

She prayed that no one would sit next to her and try to engage her in conversation. Alas, her prayers were left unanswered. A man slid in the bar seat next to her, despite all the other empty stolls, and smelled like he hadn't showered in days. She was about to move to another bar stool when he spoke.

"Whats a pretty thing like you doing out here? You caused quite a commotion when you came in." Alora tried not to visibly cringe as he spoke. She succeeded somewhat but it was dark enough that he thankfully didn't notice the face she pulled.

She cleared her throat, trying not to appear too put off. "My mentor just finished his seven days of depravity. We got a little lost on the way home. Turns out, I'm not very good at remembering where I am in the woods. And after starving himself for a week, my mentor wasn't much help. Hence the commotion when we came in. I'm just waiting for some food for us."

She prayed that he wouldn't say anything else. She didn't have the temper to deal with it. She was hungry and exhausted. She just wanted to eat then go to sleep. She didn't even care that her and Mya would possibly end up sleeping in the same bed. She just wanted to sleep.

Thankfully, her food arraived just as the man opened his fat mouth again. She hopped off the stool, carefully grabbing their things. "We'll, nice meeting you," she said as she hurried away.

She had to put the ale down on the floor so she could unlock the door. She pushed it open and picked up the ale, kicking the door shut behind her. She placed the items on the small little table in the room then went to lock and secure the door. Then she walked to the bed and fell back on it with a loud humhp.

Myahil focused more on his hair as Alora moved to leave, but paused in mild surprise when she suddenly grabbed a comb, rinsed it, and handed it to him. He took it without a word, watching her leave before actually using the comb. It definitely helped him undo his braid, and he went ahead and brushed some of the worst knots out as well.

He listened to Alora leave as he brushed his hair, finishing the biggest part of it by the time she was out of earshot. Then, he stepped toward the shower and experimented with turning it on and getting it to a comfortable temperature before undressing and stepping in.

The shower was a pleasant change from bathing in rivers and streams, and he couldn’t help savoring it a bit. Once he was done, he washed his clothes, wrung them out as best he could, then dried himself.

He heard Alora walk in shortly afterward, slamming the door. Either she was holding a lot, or something had happened. Or both. If something had happened, then she would likely be irritable, so Myahil decided to linger in the bathroom a bit longer. He was in a pretty good mood now, and he didn’t want to ruin it.

It worked out perfectly though, because he wanted to brush his hair a bit more. And, after cleaning the comb of his first brushing, he did exactly that until all of the knots were gone. Then, he dressed in his still damp robe and walked out to investigate.

He noticed the food on the table and Alora on the bed. Seeing her like that reminded him that she hadn’t slept at all during their journey. He’d had an hour long nap, and though he was still exhausted, it was likely nothing compared to her.

“Don’t forget to eat. We’ll both need our strength tomorrow if we’re to find a way to break this soul bond,”he gently reminded her in case she was about to doze off.

Alora didn't raise her head when she heard the bathroom door open. She was irritated from the man downstairs and running on very little sleep and food. A circumstance like that would cause anyone to be irritable. And she certainly was.

Her eye twitched as she heard Mya. She did not need to be reminded that she needed to eat. Her stomach had been nonstop grumbling every since she got the food. But she had needed a minute to relax and calm herself so she didn't go back downstairs and kill that man. He hadn't done anything wrong necessarily but that didn't mean nothing would have happened should she have stayed. And killing someone would not keep them under the radar.

She pulled the silver coin out if her picket and tossed it to him, hoping he had enough sense to catch it. "We'll need a few silver coins by morning." She didn't say anything else. Of course she didn't mean right this instance. She didn't want him to serial again because he over did it with his magic. She did not want a repeat of that.

She pushed herself off the bed and grabbed a bowl and a pint of ale. She settled back on the bed, leaning against the headboard. She looked at Mya, noting the robe around him. She'd deal with his clothes after she had eaten.

She was curious on how they were going to sleep. She did not like sleeping with pants on. Honestly, she didn't like sleeping with clothes on at all. She only did it because she was on the road. But anytime she was at home it was her bare skin and the sheets. She did not particularly feel like sleeping next to Mya either but she was so tired she was about ready to pass out. After some warm, questionable stew and a pint of ale.

Myahil didn’t say anything else after his reminder, noting her lingering irritability. He headed toward the table, but paused when he saw Alora pull something out of her pocket and toss it at him. With his quick reflexes, he easily caught the thing and saw that it was a silver coin. He didn’t even need to hear Alora to know what she wanted. Despite her words, he planned to make the extra coins in the morning, as soon as he woke preferably. He was too worn out to do it now.

With a grunt of acknowledgment, he stashed the coin in a pocket, then he moved to the table and grabbed a bowl and one of the pints of ale. Alora came up beside him as he started moving away, and Myahil couldn’t help recalling his earlier need to hold her in his arms. The feeling bothered him again and he walked away a pinch quicker than he would’ve previously, needing to put some distance between himself and Alora before he did something stupid.

He leaned against the wall facing the bed, his loose black hair framing his shoulders perfectly. The dampness of his robe didn’t really bother him as he took a drink from his ale. Hell, he was more bothered by the ale, and it was mostly just preference. He was more into wine than ale. Also, there was his hallucinations. He’d already mentioned to Alora that alcohol made them worse, so it was going to be interesting how the rest of the night went.

After a moment, he set his ale on the floor next to him so he wouldn’t drop it by accident, then started eating. Again, it wasn’t his preference, but Myahil wasn’t going to waste a meal, especially after the day he’d had.

Alora took a long gulp if her ale. She was going to need it to get through the night. Ale was not her first choice but it was certainly the only drink that she trusted in a tavern like this. And even then, she didn't trust the ale all that much.

She raised her eyes to look at Mya, noting his disdain for the ale. She grunted. "The ale is a hell of a lot safer than the water. Drink it or don't, but you'll have to wait until morning to find clean water." Perhaps that was the only thing she trusted in the woods versus villages. Finding a natural spring was cleaner water than just about anywhere.

She did enjoy the stew as long as she remained ignorant to whatever ingredients they used. This was a smaller, poorer village. Their ingredients were limited. But it was warm and that was all that mattered to her. She had a feeling this would be there last time in a village unless it was necessary. Not only was it dangerous because of both of their appreances, Mya did not like towns. That much was obvious.

Alora finished her food quickly. She had been very hungry. She hadn't eaten much these past few days and her stomach was starting to protest. She downed the ale and set it aside on the small table. Now that her stomach was full, exhaustion was starting to set in. But there was a few things to do first.

She walked into the bathroom and cleaned her face quickly. She found Mya's wet clothes and dried them with a flick of her hand. She picked up the now dry clothes and walked out of the bathroom. She tossed them to Mya, which was a lot better than she had almost done. She had debated throwing them at him.

"Your clothes are dry. I'm going to bed, try not to wake me." She finally came to the conclusion that her shirt was long enough and she was tired enough that she didn't care about being half naked. She pulled her trap users off her legs, leaving her in a shirt and undergarments.

She pulled back the covers and slipped into one side on the bed. She was leaving the other for Mya should he want to sleep in the bed with her. She was too tired to care. As long as she faced away from him, which she was, she would be just fine.

Myahil lifted his eyes to gaze at Alora as she spoke. His eyes widened in surprise and concern at her words. The water wasn’t clean in town? Was it just for this town, or was it all across Avollone? By Rhinacules, how had he missed such a detail, and how could the people live with it?

His people didn’t have that problem, or… at least not as severe. With Rhinacules cities being mostly underground, they used aquifers, underground rivers, and the like to their advantage. They also cultivated various plants and algae to clean the water after use, alongside the natural cleansing processes of the earth and its caverns. The respect for nature was always paramount to the Rhinacules, even in the time before Myahil’s reign. But, it seemed that he’d forgotten other societies were not like that. How consumed with anger has he been to forget that?

He didn’t say anything about the subject though, instead focusing on his food. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what was in it, but it wasn’t terrible, and he ate it faster than he had expected he would. Well… he’d only eaten once in the past day, so that could easily explain his ravenous actions.

He picked up his ale and steadily drank it down, then set his dishes on the table where Alora had originally put them. When he turned away from the table, Alora was walking out of the bathroom with his dried clothes.

He caught his clothes easily, half expecting her to throw them instead. He then watched her for a second in mild confusion. Though, he quickly looked away when she partially undressed to give her some privacy.

After a moment, he glanced back at her to see that she had left space for him. Why? And, did he even dare thinking of lying next to the vicious woman? Was she just baiting him?

Myahil shook his head at the thoughts and decided to properly dress. Maybe it would give him time to calm down and think of a solution to this sleeping dilemma. He headed into the bathroom, pulling on his trousers, then taking his time to tie his sash around his waist.

Afterward, he exited the bathroom, being as quiet as possible, and eyed the room. It seemed that he had three options. The bed, the floor, or the chair. He quickly discarded the chair option, as he always fell over while sleeping in a chair, something that annoyed him to no end. Which left the hard, questionable floor or the bed containing the woman that was still his enemy, despite the strangeness going on between them. Neither option was appealing.

A quiet sigh left Myahil as he inspected the floor. It really wasn’t very appealing, particularly as a sleeping place. And, that said something, because he had been sleeping on dirt and in trees for several years now. So… he was going to have to choke down his paranoia and sleep next to the enemy.

Shaking his head, he headed over to the bed and gently slid under the covers, turning his back to Alora despite his instincts screaming at him. Once comfortable, he stared at the wall for a long while before exhaustion finally caught up to him and he fell deep asleep.

Avollone was not as bad off as Mya was likely thinking. The kingdom was relatively clean, especially the wealthier districts and the cities closest to the palace. But some of these outlying or poor villages just didn't have access to clean water as other places did. And places like the tavern below, it was safest to drink the ale versus water. Who knew what that water was being reused with or done with before it was put in a glass?

It was the one thing that Alora preferred while traveling. The water fresh from the spring. While sometimes it needed to be filtered, it was the best water she could find. Cool and refreshing. It tasted better than anything she had at the palace or any other town or village she visited. And it would be the only good thing about them sticking to the forest to travel versus the main roads and towns. She would miss beds, however.

Even though this bed was firmer than she preferred and she didn't want to think about how long it had been since someone had washed these sheets. She still found it better than lying on the hard dirt. Even if they got a bed roll it did very little to provide comfort.

Despite the hardness of the bed, she was able to fall asleep rather quickly. She was more exhausted than she had thought she was. Then again, with a witch and walking for hours, it would have been a surprise if she wasn't as tired.

She stirred slightly as the bed dipped as Mya got in. She didn't wake. She only made a grumpy noise and turned over so she was facing him. The exact opposite of what she had wanted to happen. But it was too late now. Her face was now just inches away from his back. Her hand was just barely grazing him and her knees were tucked up.

Myahil barely noticed Alora turning over, as he was too lost in hazy thoughts to pay attention. He pondered his current situation, his future, Alora’s future, and what would happen to both kingdoms if they never returned.

He even pondered what would happen if they were separated before releasing their soul bond. The risks of that were great, but it otherwise didn’t hinder anything they did while apart. He craved to return home and finish his plans, to destroy the Omarie family. Or… did he?

The question lingered as he fell asleep, haunting him. His answer was no longer as concrete as it had used to be. Somehow, Alora’s presence was making him doubt his own desires and ambitions. It was a subtle doubt, but a damaging one nonetheless. When the time came to execute his plans, any hesitation on his part could unravel centuries of progress.

As he fell into deep sleep, he faintly heard a familiar voice humming to him, her soothing tone drawing him from his dark thoughts. Cecelia had returned, and was behind him, brushing a hand on his back.

He rolled over and tenderly wrapped his arms around her. Cecelia giggled, then cuddled closer and started humming again. Myahil savored the tune for the rest of the night.

Unbeknownst to Myahil, he was dreaming, and completely unaware of reality. However, his arms wrapped around Alora, cradling her against him, were quite real.

Alora didn't wake as Mya turned and held her. Just as he was envisioning his own wife, she was sensing her dead fiance Edric. She knew he was dead and that this wasn't him. But she wanted to hold onto his spirit a little bit longer. She wanted to stay in the embrace a little bit linger. She coukd pretend for just awhile that this was Edric and she could be haply even if it was for a few fleeting hours.

"Oh, my sweet love," she heard his warm voice speak to her. She almost wept. She could have. The tears were welling and her nose was sniffiling.

She never thought she woukd hear his voice again. It had been so long she had forgotten what it sounded like up until now. She had forgotten the color of his eyes bit coukd remember the dimples in his cheeks. It was a strange thing, losing someone. She feared the day she completely forgot what he looked like.

"It's time for this to end," he said as he leaned forward to kiss her head. "This has gone on for too long. "You need to forgive and move on. Live your life instead of being stuck in this endless cycle of death and misery."

"I don't know how," she admitted. There was so much death by her hand. So much blood stained her, she would never be free. She would never escape. Her only hope was that she would be able to finish her revenge before drowning in the blood that filling.

But Edric only smiled at her. His arms around her squeezed her and she put her head on his chest. She knew she was safe in his arms. There was no where safer for her. No where better for her. "Perhaps not right now but you will. With him."

"With who?" She didn't understand. Mya? It couldn't be. But then, that was what the witch had said, wasn't it? But she couldn't. He was her enemy.

Edric never answer her. He only smiled and kissed her head one last time. "I love you, Alora. Never forget that. In another life, we have forever." And then he was fading away. Alora called for him, begged him not to leave but they went unanswered.

Her eyes snapped open as the early sun peaked through the window. Her eyes were wet but she hadn't cried. Not today. It took her a moment to realize she was in the arms of Mya. She froze, tense. She didn't move. It was so, so comfortable. But she didn't ket herself think that. No, she blamed it purely because she wondered how he woukd react if she moved. Or if she didn't.

Myahil remained deep in his dream the entire night, holding Cecelia as her humming tune engulfed him. As dawn approached, Cecelia stopped humming and shifted to kiss his forehead.

Always remember that I only want to see you happy. And, I will always be here as long as you need me.

Myahil was a bit confused by her words, but her presence faded before he could question her. Then, he was slowly stirring.

As he did so, his amulet, which had been softly glowing all night, stopped glowing, the signal that Cecelia had left for the moment. With Alora’s current closeness to Myahil, she would be able to clearly see the necklace dimming just before his eyes started to open.

For a moment, Myahil didn’t know where he was, but a quick look around reminded him of his journey with Alora and their location in an inn of sorts. But… he was laying wrong. He had been facing outward when he’d gone to bed, but he wasn’t now. He prayed Alora was unaware of his position, and he finally looked down to check on her. To see that Alora was wrapped so wonderfully in his arms.

Rhinacules help him!

He stared blankly at Alora, having utterly no idea how to react. He wasn’t as shocked as he’d expected himself to be, but he blamed that on Cecelia’s soothing song, which was still stuck in his head. Still, it was almost horrifying to see Alora in his arms, instead of Cecelia.

After a moment, Myahil slowly, cautiously retracted his arms, his mind whirling with uncertainty.

“I… I didn’t realize…”he couldn’t find the words to explain himself, to justify his actions. There was no real answer, except that he’d been asleep, and unaware of his movements. But, how could he say that without it sounding like some excuse?

And, why was this one moment so much harder than preparing a year’s worth of battle plans?

Alora was temporarily distracted by the glowing of his amulet. It was strange and she didn't know what it meant. Perhaps she would ask later but then she remembered they weren't friends like that. She couldn't just ask. Well, she would likely demand it of him.

She noticed the moment he woke up. The way that he froze. She waited, practically holding her breath. She hoped he wouldn't lash out. Even though it was he that had wrapped his arms around her, not the other way around. Though she was facing him which meant she had moved some time in the night.

She let out a releasing breath as his arms moved away from her. At least that's what she told herself it was, relief. Nothing else. She cleared her throat, moving away from him and sitting up.

"I-its fine." She was certainly flstered if she was stuttering and telling him it was okay. If she hadn't been, she would have gone off on him, yelling and cursing. And yet she didn't.

She rolled out if bed, finding her trousers folded on the floor and bent to pick them up. She put her legs in the holes and pulled them over her waist, tucking her shirt in. She buttoned them up before looking back at him.

"Hurry, I'd like to get our things and leave." She didn't like staying in one place too long. It made her nervous, open for attack. She sat on the bed as she pulled her boots on and laced them up. She needed to go to the bathroom so she could redo her hair and try to pin it uo so it would be easier to hide.