Beasts and Blades [ON HIATUS]

Chapter 4 - Just Girls

He left four years ago, commissioned to fight in the Hesperian civil war. All at the age of sixteen. So young. Still barely a child.

Maja hadn't the slightest idea of what she was expecting when the pushed away the opening of his tent. He had returned to the one he shared with Sarras, his side of it completely untouched, not even dusted.

Before she had entered, she had the image of the sixteen year old boy, departing from the camp saying his farewells. The man that stood before her was no boy. No trace of the quiet, solitude-loving child he had been, nor the boy who discovered her half-dead sprawled on the sand.

After four years fighting in that war, Maja prayed that that child hadn't drowned in the blood of those he killed, and that he was still there.

His back was turned to her, and from that angle he looked almost identical to Sarras. There was a time when the twins had been completely identical, near impossible to tell the brothers apart save for minuscule details that few could detect. But when he turned to face her, he couldn't have looked more different.

Dressed in loose black clothes, he looked like Death himself. He had grown out his hair, silver locks braided and hanging down the column of his spine. He was tall, perhaps an inch taller than his brother Sarras. His shoulders were broader and stronger from years of work and war. And his face, how it had changed. Gone was the pimply adolescent face she remembered, replaced by one that was smooth, angled and refined. It was to her slight disappointment that his freckles had faded.

Scars painted him. And those were only the ones she could see above his collar and his arms beneath the rolled up sleeve and his legs where his pants were cuffed just below the knee. They were so great in number that Maja wondered how long it would take to count them down to the tiniest scratch.

Four years worth of potential conversation died in her throat. Nothing clever came to mind. No witty remarks or teasing that used to drive him mad. All she could muster was a pathetic; "Hello."

His eyes, brown at first glance but actually fractured with russet and green, looked her up and down, taking her in like she had he. His eyes came back up to her face. He gave away no emotion, and her heart faltered. "You're looking well, Maja."

She tried not to feel a stab of hurt at his stoic expression as she idled at the entrance of the tent, not daring a step closer. She snorted halfheartedly. "I would imagine I would look just short of disastrous after the Rite." She didn't mention how Raza had fixed her up. She crossed her arms, shifting her weight onto her other leg. "But thank you for the flattery."

"I see your attitude hasn't wavered one bit." A ghost of a smile. It was enough for her to return it.

"Welcome home, Idris."

She watched as he tucked a long strand of silvery hair that escaped his braid behind his ear. Her lips tugged up of their own accord.

"What?"

"You look like a girl."

He raised his brows. "Don't like it?" It sounded like a challenge.

She came closer to him, and she was suddenly hit with the realization of how much he had grown. She almost laughed when she remembered how scrawny and thin he used to be.

"No, I quite like it actually," she smiled mischievously. "It will far more fun than when you had short hair." She came close enough to reach out and twirl a silver lock around her finger. Maja was still annoyed at how little reaction he was showing.

"And why would that be?", he asked, his body still as stone.

"Because I will delight in getting to stick chewing tar in it."