IRON GOD | 2: Empyrean

[10] Kolo: Song of Innocence {I}

After a loud and busy but very filling supper, Kolo had no trouble sleeping through the night. However, her back was horribly sore and stiff the next morning. She opened her eyes and saw Azvalath coming down the stairs with Dras.

    "Kolo, you didn't have to sleep in my armchair." Dras sounded concerned. He wasn't wearing a shirt and his freckled cheeks were flushed a rosy pink. "There's a guest room upstairs."

    She shrugged. "Didn't mean to. It just happened that way."

    Azvalath rubbed his eyes. "Go put a shirt on, will you? And a coat while you're at it. It's freezing outside."

    "Old news." Dras shrugged and ran back upstairs.

    Azvalath pulled a stool up next to the armchair and sat down. "Kolo, I need to talk to you." His voice dropped close to a whisper. "It's about Dras. He's..."

    "You're not talking about me behind my back, are you?"

    Kolo jumped out of the chair. Dras was right behind her. She gawked. "Weren't you just upstairs? When did you come back down?"

    "I was telling Kolo you're like us." Azvalath forced a smile. "You have a unique ability too."

    "Yeah, I sure do." Dras beamed. "Got a shirt, back in a snap." He snapped his fingers for emphasis. "Though it's usually not something I show off. People like us, we really can't be flaunting our gifts."

    "Hm." Kolo crossed her arms. "Why not?"

    He looked down. "Ferash Therall always hunt the showoffs first."

    She and Azvalath exchanged a mortified look.

    "You know, Talin thinks that holf might be like us too. If the holf has some kind of power, maybe that's why it's better at killing people than an ordinary one." Dras scratched his blond head. "Maybe I wouldn't be so upset about Ferash Therall coming for a holf that's eating my neighbors, but it's only a matter of time before they come for us, then, isn't it?"

    "Dras..." Kolo started speaking, then Azvalath interrupted.

    "We're decently experienced dealing with Ferash Therall." He spoke with a sudden feigned confidence. "Have there been any around here lately?"

    "Well, not that I know of, but the thought of getting hunted down and stabbed if I leave my house at night gives me nightmares." Dras grimaced. "Though I don't know which would be worse – dying when that happens, or spending the rest of my life on the other end of that blade, serving their bloodthirsty god that...for all I know, might not even exist. And if he does exist, then I can't imagine him bringing anything but pain."

    Kolo hoped no one else could see the butterflies in her stomach. She straightened her white hair and struggled to find a balance between averting her eyes and staring.

    "You're older, aren't you, Azvalath?" the younger man asked. "How have you made it so long?"

    "I..." Azvalath hesitated, then looked at Kolo. "I didn't do it alone."

    Kolo yawned and stretched. "Aza, you're horrible at this." She smacked his arm as she made her way to the back door. "Weren't for me, then you'd be ancient history." She slammed the door a bit too hard after stepping out onto the porch.

    The butterflies in her stomach refused to calm down even when Dras was out of sight. She fought an urge to laugh at how absurd the whole situation was. They had two targets now – a puppy-eyed village cook and a bloodthirsty unseen predator. Somehow the former seemed even harder to tackle than the latter. She leaned on the deck's rail and chuckled at their terrible luck.