Daevari -II-

Chapter 6.2: Water Under the Bridge

Ari picked up the quill beside him, the delicate feather catching the dim light from the chandelier above. The room was vast, a sanctuary of silence, broken only by the faint shuffle of footsteps approaching. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, their dark wood contrasting against the faded parchment and worn leather tomes. The air was thick with the scent of ink and old paper. Ari spun the quill absently between his fingers, his thoughts as scattered as the papers that littered the desk before him.

"You can stop there," Ari said, his voice steady, though his grip on the quill tightened. He did not turn, but he felt the presence growing closer, a shadow creeping into the edge of his vision. The figure stepped into the pale circle of light cast by the candles, his dark, hooded robe swallowing the faint illumination, leaving his face concealed. Yet, Ari knew exactly who stood before him.

Ari bit the inside of his cheek, tasting the sharp tang of blood. His anger simmered beneath the surface, old wounds reopening at the mere sight of him. "Why are you here? Did you not say you no longer cared for Auovin?"

"I never said that."

"Your actions spoke louder," Ari hissed.

"I came... because I saw you... at the temple..." The figure's voice, rough and familiar, sent a shiver down Ari's spine. As the sound grew nearer, Ari felt his resolve waver, cracks forming in the armor he had built around himself. He had spent years wondering what became of him, despite the tangled emotions left behind. He had not been able to forget him—so he had chosen to resent him instead.

Ari buried his face in his hands, memories flooding back that were better left buried. He had confessed his love to him once. Feelings like that did not simply disappear with time. Despite everything, Ari missed him—missed him more than he could admit, bound by pride and hurt.

"...Sai, why have you come here?"

The room seemed to shrink as Sai lowered his hood, revealing storm-gray eyes that gleamed in the dim light. His damp, chocolate curls clung to his forehead, beginning to frizz from the moisture from outside. He looked paler than Ari remembered—delicate in a way that unsettled him, as if he might break with just a touch. His sharp nose, plump lips, and the slight redness around his cheeks and eyes made his appearance almost fragile.

"What do you want from me? I have nothing left to give you. Not anymore."

"I understand your anger. It is deserved," Sai said, his voice low and steady. "But we do not have the time or luxury to dwell on the past."

Ari's lips twisted into a bitter smile as he fought back the urge to roll his eyes. "And why is that?"

"You are falling into the same patterns as before. He has told me this, and I believe it. You cannot make Auovin your sole focus again. Pay attention to what is happening around you," Sai warned.

Ari's patience snapped. With a sharp crack, the quill broke in his hand, splinters falling onto the parchment-strewn desk. "Do you think I do not know this? I have barely regained Auovin's favor, and I certainly do not have his trust. Not after what I had done..."

"So you remember?"

Ari's eyes flicked up, locking with Sai's for the first time. A cold wave of fear washed over him, the realization that he had let too much slip tightening his chest. He rubbed his forehead, his fingers pressing hard into his temples. "I remember enough to know what must be done."

"So you chose not to tell him?"

Ari nodded, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I needed to confirm some things with him first."

When Ari looked up again, Sai was closer, the desk now the only barrier between them. The tension in the room thickened, oppressive like the scent of the ink that stained the floor beneath their feet. Ari let his head fall back, the weight of the conversation pressing down on him. It was infuriating how easily Sai stirred up emotions Ari had tried to bury—how the bitterness from the past surfaced with every word he spoke.