Embers of Sun and Flame (Fuegoleon Vermillion x OC)

Chapter 51 The promise

Fuegoleon sat in his office, staring yet again across the table to the empty seat. His mind ran empty. Empty and void. It was much like the air, filled with nothing but the silence of the heavens. He was leaning against his hands, but didn't feel the weight of his head against them. He didn't feel the weight of his body, for it was far too light in comparison to his soul.

It was as if the skies above were pulling warmth itself from the room, leaving only the burdening solitude which rang around him. He never felt cold. Not really, at least. But there was a chill that kept trying to climb up his spine, one that he tried to shake away. It was easier said than done, and all because of the gnawing, corroding sense of dread that ran its finger along the golden strings, as if to see if it could play a tune. And so, those milk white, long, digits ran over the gilded surfaces, as if it was a game. Something to play. Something with which it could compose a melody for all the world to hear, but not one that was sweet, or gentle, full of joy and sunshine. But one that would speak about love and devotion; one that would speak about what it'd mean to be in love.

There was a knock on his office door, snapping him out of it, or rather, back into the real world.

"Yes, come in," he replied, while picking up his pen, and gazing to the documents ahead of him, along with the blank sheet of paper that was placed right in the middle of it all.

Fen entered with a thin pile of documents in hand. "Here are the latest performance reports, Sir. Randal asked me to drop them off," she said while placing them onto the corner of his desk.

"Thank you," he said, absentmindedly glancing to her for a while.

"You're welcome, Sir," she replied, taking her leave.

"Fen?"

"Yes, Sir?" She stopped turning back to him, saying nothing more as seconds ticked away, silence hanging heavy in the room.

He furrowed his brows, feeling a weight swaying and turning inside of him. Hesitation lingered in the air for a moment, as he wasn't sure if there was a point in asking. But. The swirling, nagging feeling inside of him wouldn't let him be. So. He had to. He felt that he had to.

"You are a twin yourself, correct?" He inquired while turning his eyes to her, glancing with a tired expression, one that was without the glimmer of light being reflected from the purple surface.

"I am, Sir," she replied, frowning slightly.

"Can you...?" He paused, realizing the downright absurdity of the question he was about to ask. "Is the connection... strong?"

"It is," she continued, her frown only deepening in the process.

"Would you know if... they were in trouble?"

The thought of her brother passed through her mind, making her smirk. "His smartass mouth should be getting into more trouble," she replied, feeling regret, for speaking in such a way to her captain, taking place as soon as she had done so. "But I can't feel his every grimace as my own, no," she continued with a more composed tone.

"I see," he said, returning his gaze down to the documents.

"May I ask why?"

He paused for a moment, thinking to himself how should he reply to her question. "Because I worry," he eventually stated.

Fen wasn't quite sure what to say, because it wasn't her place, necessarily, to offer him reassurance. Especially since she wasn't sure of the extent of his worry.

"But you would know if ... they were... gone?" He asked, the words dripping from his lips, one by one.

She frowned to him with slight curiosity, wondering if she dared to open the discussion. But she supposed that as long as she kept it relatively vague, she'd be alright. "He's never truly gone, because not even death is the final frontier."