Virid Blake and the last Eternitas

Mrs. Morris' Tavern

A cold shiver ran down Virid's spine.
"Virid Blake?" the deep, unfamiliar voice behind him repeated.
His heart pounded so hard that his whole body seemed to vibrate with each beat. Panic surged within him as his thoughts raced. He had no idea what to say or even who was speaking.
Virid's sobs died away, and he tried to stay as silent as possible, as if that might somehow hide him from the stranger's gaze.
"Virid?" the man said again, this time hesitantly. Virid could feel the ground vibrate slightly as the man cautiously approached him. But that couldn't be possible, could it? How could he feel that? The stranger knelt beside Virid and gently placed a hand on his shoulder.
Virid recoiled, spun around, and tried to crawl backwards away from the man.
Before him crouched a tall man, draped in a light brown coat. His skin was dark, and his kind eyes glimmered like glowing golden crystals. He raised his right hand, gesturing that he meant no harm.
"W-who are you? W-what do you want?!" Virid blurted out. He didn't know this man, and he couldn't recall ever seeing him before. The village was small, maybe 1,000 people. Virid didn't know everyone, but surely he would remember someone with eyes like that.
"And how do you know my name?"
"I was there when your parents gave it to you," the man replied calmly, yet directly. He turned toward Virid and sat down on the ground across from him, resting his hands on his knees and looking him straight in the eyes.
"That... doesn't explain... who are you?" Virid repeated, a bit more composed now. The man seemed trustworthy, not threatening, just... friendly.
"My name is Alios Bartholomew Campbell. You can call me Alios," he said, his voice warm and deep.
A silence fell between them, and Alios kept his eyes on Virid. Virid had the feeling that Alios was studying him, almost as if scanning him.
"I'm truly sorry for what's happened to you, Virid. Your grandparents were two of the kindest and most generous people I've ever had the pleasure of knowing. Their loss..." Alios glanced at the ground for a moment. "Their loss is a tragedy, and it pains me deeply."
Alios looked back into Virid's eyes, and Virid could see they were glistening with tears.
"You knew them?" Virid asked hesitantly. He couldn't imagine his grandparents having a friend he had never met before, not even in a photograph.
"I did," Alios replied simply, a faint smile playing on his lips.
"Listen, Virid, this may not be the best place to talk about everything. I'm sure you have a lot of questions, and I have answers for you, but..." Alios suddenly leapt to his feet, turning his back to Virid and standing protectively in front of him. Virid saw a bright flash of light from in front of Alios. It must have been a lamp of some kind, enveloping him in an eerie glow.
Alios stood completely still and listened. Whatever he had heard seemed to be gone. The light vanished, and Alios turned back to Virid, extending a hand to help him up.
Virid wondered where Alios had hidden the lamp but nonetheless took his hand and stood. Alios' hand was warm and rough, and the burns on Virid's palms made him wince. He quickly withdrew his hand. Alios noticed the injuries and furrowed his brow. "We should tend to your hands right away."
Virid tried to keep his hands away from anything. They felt hot and throbbed constantly. The cool evening air brought some relief, but he longed for cold water to soothe the pain.
Alios said there was a safe place they could stay in the neighboring village. Virid felt a pang of nervousness at the suggestion, but something about Alios gave him confidence. He felt as though he had met Alios before, and something told him to trust him. Besides, Alios promised him answers. And right now, Virid needed answers more than anything else. His hands and knees didn't matter; he needed to know what had happened and why his grandparents had to die.
At the thought of his grandparents, the image of their charred bodies flashed in his mind again. Virid let out an involuntary sound of grief and bit his lip. He couldn't start crying again; he needed to stay clear-headed now.
They walked for less time than Virid had expected. He hadn't realized how far into the woods he had run.
The neighboring village was even smaller than his own, and Virid wondered if Alios might be from here.
It was late; at this time, he would normally be watching a movie with his grandparents. He could picture them on the green sofa: his grandmother knitting under the lamp, his grandfather resting a hand on her back, gently stroking it.
In Virid's hometown, the streets were usually deserted at this hour, but in this little village, people were still out and about, chatting animatedly. Virid noticed that some of them wore coats similar to Alios'. As they walked down the main street, Virid saw that conversations fell silent as they approached. For a brief moment, Virid's eyes met those of a young girl standing next to her mother. Startled, the girl turned away and tugged on her mother's coat, who was deep in conversation with a tall man in a blue coat. The mother looked around, her gaze first landing on Alios and then on Virid. A small crease formed between her eyebrows, and her expression softened into one of pity.
Virid grew more and more uncomfortable. The villagers all seemed to be staring at him now, and even Alios noticed.
"Please, go back to your homes!" Alios called out loudly, and some of the people obeyed.
Then a small, round woman approached them. She smiled kindly at Virid as she came closer.
"Céline! It's good to see you," Alios greeted her warmly and kissed her on the cheek.
She patted his cheek maternally and said, "You could have let me know you were coming. I thought you were staying a while longer with the Blakes?"
Virid understood nothing now. This stranger seemed to know him, or at least his grandparents. And he couldn't shake the feeling that it was the same with the other villagers, who had been watching them from their windows.
"That... wasn't possible," Alios said softly, cautiously. Virid realized that whatever the villagers had been talking about, the news of the fire hadn't reached here yet.
"Hmm, alright. Well, come inside, then... Oh, what happened to your hands?" The woman had noticed Virid's burns and stepped forward to get a closer look.
"Poor boy, come on, I think I have some burn ointment left," she said, her kind gaze reminding Virid of his grandmother. He couldn't help but smile back at her gratefully.
As they walked down the street, past the lit windows where the silhouettes of the townsfolk were visible, Virid felt oddly safe, despite the horror of the evening.
His heart and mind, however, were at odds over whether it was right to trust these strangers so easily.
But what choice do you have? You have no one else. A cruel voice inside Virid pulled him back. Back to the house, back to the rubble that now resembled the ruins of Fort Vidam. A grotesque image flashed in his mind of his grandparents lying dead in the small shed that he and Adam had rebuilt earlier that day.
Today... It couldn't all have happened today, could it?
"Hey, Virid?" Alios gently placed a hand on Virid's back, pulling him out of the dark thoughts that were clouding his mind more with each passing second.
Virid hadn't noticed where they were going, but now they stood in front of an old timber-framed house. It was white, with dark brown beams. The facade was covered in ivy, and beneath the roof, golden lettering glinted in the light of the streetlamp.