We Solemn Few

Chapter Fifteen : A Day Outside

Veyha awoke with a sharp breath, sweat rolling down her forehead into her curling locks of orange and gold, unfelt tears slick against her cheeks. It was not the first time she had awoken in such a way; nightmares had plagued her every time she dared to sleep since that night, and she did not think they would fade soon. She just wished that Samson's glazed over eyes did not seem more and more accusing with each night passed. Or that, occasionally, they were replaced by the coffee hues of Marrow, or worse - she hated that she felt any different for the two; they were both her friends! - the green-ringed blue of Zenrin's, and more frequently as of late. Especially Zenrin's. She blinked away the tears still leaking from her eyes.

They have to be alive, she told herself, thought doubt tickled the edges of her mind, They have to. She rose from the bed and looked in the mirror with a sigh, her hair a ruffled mess of knotted curls dampened by sweat and her face streaked, and her clothes rumpled and untidied. Usually, she'd be quick to tidy up such vistages, but sorrow tugged at her more strongly, so much so that she could hardly find the effort to even change her clothes, though she did. A simple shirt of cotton matched with an itch skirt and leggings were put on without much care, and she didn't even bother to brush her hair, only wiping her face clean with a little water from the wash basin.

They have to be, she told herself once more, drawing on Ixus' cloak with a slight sigh. Five days ago they had arrived in Fhurahr and Ixus had set them up in a rather dreary inn before departing to search for the Zenrin- the others. Mythos, get him off your mind! Five days ago she had seen many fairytales come true, many mystical tales become truth, and found herself in awe despite the numbness that washed through her. And yet, five days ago, Ixus disappeared.

Where he went she could only guess. She had known of the magic he wielded long before that night, but she only knew of him using it to do small things; create an arcane candle - Ixus called them flickers - or bind a dagger to an individual, as he once had to Zenrin, but nothing as extreme as that. She still shuddered even with the faint memory of the unseen slice that rippled through the air, tearing those creatures in half. They may have had intent to kill - They did. Mythos, they took Samson! - but that... she would not wish that upon some of the darkest creatures in the many heroic tales she had heard. Except the Undying Oblivion; that dark god deserved every bit of pain and more, judging by the few stories surrounding it. Regardless, if Ixus could do that, he may very well be able to fly.

Sighing, she debated whether or not to spend another day waiting. Another day locked in her room, crying, really, but a day waiting regardless. But how much more would she wait then? Even if she believed he could handle himself entirely, which she did, she did not think of a reason he would disappear so suddenly, and for so long. Unless he abandoned you, the tiny voice cooed, but she shoved it down harshly. She did not know why she had become so doubtful as of late, but even so the distant voice's worry seeded itself in her anyway, no matter what she wanted to think. He very well could have abandoned her, and what then?

Nearly stretching the silk of Ixus' cloak with how tightly she was clutching it around herself, she forced her hands to release it with an aggravated breath. She would not sit around in any case. She had cried enough - No amount of tears would change anything, anyways - and being left with her thoughts was not much better. Not when those green-ringed blue eyes sat in the back of her head, glazed and accusing. Zenrin, Mythos! You better be okay! Settling herself, she decided she would go out at the least, but promised to herself to return this night in case Ixus did. If he didn't...

Shaking her head, she left that for future Veyha, hoping she would not have to decide at all. Looking in the mirror once more, she grimaced at her hair enough to force a brush through the knots, though hardly more than that, and in a few minutes she was out the door, nearly dragging her feet, but she made it out nonetheless, stepping out into fairytales come true.