Sharp Flowers

Part 12

Town finally comes back into sight. After a strenuous trek out, we've been taking our time coming home.

"You know it's been a long time since you've rushed into battle yourself," Henry comments.

"I thought it was about time," Sebastian states, refusing to meet Henry's questioning glare that looks more or less than pleased. "I'm sure few people if anyone noticed. It was total chaos," he adds.

"Kisomen, you know this is not the time," Henry warns him.

"And when is the time? Better to be a terrifying monster and survive than to die in vain," Sebastian reasons, and for the first time, I wonder how he came to be like this. What happened to you for you to be like this? I wonder what that desperation feels like and far one will go to survive?

"How many people saw?" Henry wonders.

"Hardly a soul. There hasn't been a whisper," Sebastian waves him off.

"I just wish you would be more careful. It's quite unsightly and unbecoming," Henry criticizes, but Sebastian has turned away from him. Though the king's ear has abandoned him, Henry looks quite irritated. The scholarly advisor has always had a stern look about him. His harsh opinion of the king could be disrespectful.

"You did well, Raven," Sebastian comments.

"Thank you, Kisomen," I acknowledge him with a nod. "I could have done better," I note.

"We were outnumbered. There was nothing anyone could do. We're blessed so many survived," Sebastian responds with a faint smile.

"But at what cost, Kisomen?" I wonder, "What is the price?"

"Nothing you need to concern yourself with," Sebastian tells me, and my head snaps in his direction. His calm and collected expression doesn't change, but he won't look at me either.

"Are- Are you okay?" I stutter, and Sebastian just keeps smiling. I don't like this at all. Just because he's super strong, smiling, and walking doesn't make everything okay. I walk a little closer to him, trying to get a better look at his face. I've never seen his blue eyes turn colors, like the color of blood.

"Please don't worry about me," Sebastian pushes back. I bite my tongue, shaking my head, I fall back. You can't just tell someone not to worry; it isn't in my nature. It doesn't sit well with me seeing these cracks and breaks in him like he's unraveling. Through the masses of people, Peter and Greg are catching up to Sebastian. A separate group of knights follows along, enthralled by some tale of Greg's.

"And there he was surrounded by five-ten-something warriors. Each of them felled by Sir Kisomen," Greg's deep voices rumble with their footsteps, "Pitch black as night, surrounded it was an awful fright, and for miles our eyes without light. But Sebastian's eye, he had sight," Greg describes, telling tales to any ear that can hear.

"There weren't that many," Sebastian joins in with a shrug, "But dark it was. It's a wonder anyone made it home those nights. Blind, running about dark woods, with maybe but flares and candles if we had them," he recalls. Do they not notice how tired the man looks or how he keeps his distance?

"There was something special about your eyes as if the spirit guardians were guiding you themselves," Greg fables some more.

"It's no wonder he's well-liked. You could listen to his stories for hours," Felicity comments, "Now, how are those wounds?" she asks.

"They're fine," I promise her. They're sore. If I laugh or move the wrong way, my chest hurts. I think a rib might be cracked or bruised. And my side... I'm lucky my stomach didn't spill out. I look on ahead toward Sebastian. He's dawning that trench coat as the morning sun rises higher.