Wyvern Tails and Phoenix Feathers

The Deep Dark, Chapter 2 - Horus

The attic window was shaped like a fish. Horus hadn't noticed it the night before, but now it glowed with morning light. Where was he again? He felt the warmth of a fuzzy old quilt on his bare skin. The bed was lumpy. It wasn't fancy, but it felt like home.

He rolled over and found Kerwyn sitting beside him on a stool. That's right, Kerwyn; the young man who had left the House of Broken Chains the day he and Renard arrived. He was holding a steaming cup of tea.

"Good morning," he said.

Horus agreed, though it was a better evening if his memory served him. He recalled Kerwyn's touch the night prior and into the early morning. It was nice to feel wanted again.

"Last night," said Kerwyn. He hesitated and avoided direct eye contact. "It was a mistake."

Horus frowned. There was no harm in what they had done. On the contrary, it was fortuitous that he ran into Kerwyn. He had escaped the House of Broken Chains to take a breather from Renard's increasingly erratic behavior. He found a pub across town outside of the cult's influence. Kerwyn was seated at the bar, two pints deep. They kissed and strode down a street hand-in-hand.

"I don't mean to say it was awful," Kerwyn clarified. "Only that I'm still grieving... I'm pretty sure we both are."

Both? Whatever did he mean? Kerwyn was in mourning to be sure. He had only recently been cast out of the House of Broken Chains after his lover Sir Lionel Tarver was murdered by Count Drovain. When Horus told him that Renard had killed Drovain, Kerwyn burst into tears.

"I assure you," said Horus. "I'm doing just fine."

"Yes," replied Kerwyn. "You told me the very same last night. You also told me about Fernon... and Oran... and his violent friend Eloise and how you were burned alive by your own flames and resurrected."

Horus massaged his temples. He must have had more to drink than he remembered. He had no memory of spilling his guts.

"I suppose those are things to mourn," he conceded.

"Things that will take time," said Kerwyn. "And a clear head without distractions."

"Is that all I am to you?" Horus asked with a mock pout.

"No," said Kerwyn. He gave the question more credence than Horus intended. "You're a surprise. But you, or anyone I meet should not have my heart until it's healed."

They both sipped their tea in silence. On occasion, when the wind whistled beneath the eaves or the old floorboards creaked, Kerwyn would twitch in his seat and tense his shoulders. Horus understood what had drawn him to the pub; ale had a way of diminishing stress.

"Should you be getting back to the House?" Kerwyn asked

"I can leave if that's your wish," Horus responded.

He removed the quilt from his legs and put his feet on the floor. Kerwyn held out his hand.

"No. I just mean, I didn't feel like I had the freedom to come and go as I please when I lived there. Even now, I'm worried one of them is going to come find me and kill me because of things they think I might know."

Horus dismissed the thought with a shake of his head.

"There's been no talk of that to my knowledge. They think you're too smart to run your mouth to our enemies."

"Too scared is more like it," said Kerwyn. His honesty was refreshing. "Where does Renard think you are right now?"

Horus found his trousers and began to pull them on.