Tearha: The Number 139

Chapter Nineteen: One Two Last

 "Don't let it be said I never did anything nice for you," Akaras reprimanded, the light of the campfire flickering shadowy contours off his face as he held out the stick of fish to roast.

The sea breeze drove into the beach, the fire danced fiercely before slowly diminishing with the wind. A single crab shimmied across the shore as the sky and ocean were filled with stars and galaxies respectively. Endless horizon of water stretched the east, merging seamlessly with the edge of space.

"I don't understand," Nadier stated, looking confused at the flames. "What is the point of this 'camping'? Why do we need the fire? We dark elves don't feel much cold and we can see in the dark."

"It's a human thing," his brother replied. "You sit around in a group and just have a conversation. I understand that it allows people to bond?"

"Was that last sentence a question or a statement?" Nadier sighed in difference. "And it's not much of a group when there's only two of us."

"Aelan dae, Nads. You kill the pleasure out of everything. You need to be less cynical and more excepting of cultures and ideas. "

Nadier sat quietly in contemplation of the situation before blurting out, "Karas, your fish is getting burnt."

Akaras exclaimed, "What?" he pulled the fish back, the tail having completely caught fire. "Hot! Hot! Hot!" He waved the burning stick around, frantically attempting to put out the flames on his dinner.

Unknowingly, Nadier smiled.

***

The candle lamp that dangled from the ceiling of the room flickered like the flames from the beach long ago. The white painted brick walls blindingly reflected the light. The first point of detail he strangely noticed was a ventilation shaft in the corner of the room, a visible fan spinning within the grates. An insect crawled out for a brief respite before ducking back into the metal tunnel.

A familiar voice called out, "Nads, you awake?"

He pushed himself to sit and looked down over his feet. Across the room, Adelaide's green hair peeked out from above the footboard of her bed.

He replied, "I am now."

Almost immediately, Adelle accused, "What have you gotten me into, Wanderer?"

He pushed himself further up, careful not to lean into his injured shoulder which had been bandaged by the doctor. His bare skin was revealed as his cumbersome coat and shirt hung over a chair to his right. His daggers and belt laid over everything else. His fingers traced a large scar across his stomach and another old wound on his left forearm. He noted how he was not as muscular as most fighters, being more lean than buffed, but mentally corrected himself that he was not a warrior, but an assassin.

With a glance to his weapons, he replied, "I wish I knew."

"Hmph," he heard the girl let out. "You're always killing the mood. 'Don't know' this, 'don't know' that. Is there anything you do know?"

He partly ignored her and scanned the room. A third bed was beside Adelle and he tilted his head to get a better view. When he saw the face of the girl, he let out a soft sigh. "Ambershey."

Adelle sat fully up and the two crossed stares. "You know this girl?" she asked.

"Yeah. A little. The Watcher and I saved her from a bandit attack a few days back after we left the forest."

"You're not the hero type."

"I'm not the villain type either."

The pair remained in silence, never breaking gaze. The soft spin of the steam-powered fan and the humming and creaks that occasionally broke the confines of the steam pipes were the only noise that staved off the muteness. After a long moment, the door to the ward opened. Miguel stepped in first, followed by Luce and The Watcher.