Another Lost Soul

Chapter 9

By the time we arrived at Alenor's home it had fallen dark. The animal had begun to follow us around from a distance, but I didn't mind considering he intended no harm. Alenor had patched up his injuries and washed the blood from his body, now standing shirtless in the kitchen and covered in bandages. "I'll take you out to buy new clothes tomorrow. It's much quicker to head straight for Xin instead of the abandoned city. If your things are important to you though, I can retrieve them on my own."

"They're not important."

"Alright then. Would you like any tea?"

"Sure but," I stepped into the kitchen and leaned over his shoulder to watch him dice an oddly colored vegetable. I have no idea what he's cooking, but it smells nice. "Aren't you worried about Jalaiah?"

"Why would I be worried about him?"

"He's alone. It's dark."

"Jalaiah has fought in many battles and walked out unscathed. He can also see perfectly in the dark. He'll be just fine."

"..How long have you known him?"

"He's my familiar, so since I first learned magic. About 17 years."

"How old is he?"

"Jalaiah is 39. You're not going to ask about my age?"

"What?"

"You don't remember much. Do you remember how old I am?"

"I-...no. What's your age?"

"I'm 28."

"You're older than me." I frowned. "I should've guessed though considering you have the mannerisms of an old man. I just thought you looked younger."

"I look younger?"

"You don't have facial hair!"

"I shave, and if I wanted facial hair, I'd ask Jalaiah how he manages his own." He picked up the chopped vegetables with his hands and dropped them in a pot on the stove. "He's been bashed around a lot. I worry about him sometimes."

"You must be close with him if you've known each other for so long."

"You'd think so, right?" He laughed softly, not a trace of sarcasm in his breath. "As long as I've known Jalaiah, he's never told me a single thing about himself. He tries really hard to keep the conversation on my end."

"Why?"

"I don't know, but he lurks in the shadows. It's only natural for someone like him to be closed off."

"But you've been together for so long..."

"He's very...personal. If he's comfortable keeping to himself then who am I to take away his comfort?"

I grabbed the wooden spoon on the counter as he reached for it, stirring the stew-like soup in the boiling pot. He stepped aside so I could stand in front of it. "I think he's nice."

"Don't stop stirring until it stops boiling."

"Why?"

"It'll get too thin." He stood behind me and rested one hand on my hip, his chin hovering over my shoulder. His chest is warm on my back, but I try not to think about it too hard. "If you wanted to help, you should've just asked."

"I like to stir."

"Just don't burn yourself."

"Are you criticizing how I stir?"

"It's too fast. You'll get it on your hand, slow down a bit."

"It's fine, it's not gonna touch me."

He reached across me with his free hand and grabbed my wrist, moving my hand slowly around the edge of the pot. "You should listen more and argue less."

"You shouldn't be so bossy."

"I'm not bossy."

"You're a little bossy."

"I just have my own way of doing things." He sighed.

The world fell quiet, allowing me to relax and savor the feeling of this moment. It's warm like a blanket in winter, frost at the edge of his windows. It smells like roast and honey, and his palm is rough on my wrist. His grip isn't tight at all, but he's close enough that I can smell him and feel his body heat.

My back is warm and my face is hot due to the steam and frustration of him against me. I think I might die, but it feels good. "What was it like when we knew each other? We're we close?"

"Very."

"What does that mean?"

"You were a hot mess, but you considered me family. You moved out to the city before it broke down and one day you just...disappeared."

"I was a hot mess?"

"Still are." He slid his hand beneath the edge of my sweater, his fingers grazing my skin. "Our fights never lasted more than five minutes since we couldn't argue without laughing."

"I wish I hadn't lost my memory."

"Look on the bright side. I get to show you those experiences all over again."

"Can't wait."

"What was your first impression of me?"

"Annoying old guy."

"I'm not old."

"You act old."

"Here." He took the spoon from me and continued stirring. "You should shower since you fell in mud and...you've also got blood on your neck. I'll be done by the time you're out, just wear my clothes."

"Okay." I headed to the bathroom but he stopped me before I could go too far.

"You're limping. Did you hurt your leg?"

"When I jumped into the arena."

"I can help you if you want."

My face flushed red again. "Ah- no I've got it."

"Don't fall, I'll worry."