Knowing The End (SAA Book 2) ✔

13: Awakening

The dimly lit ballroom was massive, storing shelves upon shelves of any mineral a person could get their hands on... Iron ore and ingots, stacked neatly on one single shelf, and the shelf below, storing silver and steel. Unevenly cut ore sat to the right, while the thick, blocky ingots were stored on the left.

There was a large wooden table standing against the right wall. There sat a basket of glimmering diamonds and unusual garnets, all of varying color, no two gems identical. There were a few lavender flowers placed beside the basket of geode, along with a pair of tattered, dirty leather boots and a carved helmet of pure Arsenopyrite.

Oren glanced around, investigating curiously. He spotted tipped over barrels and sacks of fruit and potato, some even containing horse meat and flour. It seemed like an odd choice to store wooden things, objects so flammable, next to a fire-driven forge.

"So thy lover has finally figured out where I kept you locked away. How unfortunate."

A large orb of honey light appeared from above one of the tipped barrels, materializing into the same familiar woman. Her white silky dress was longer than Oren remembered it to be. The voice belonged to her, then...

"Allow me to introduce myself, after all, it is essential. You, poor soul, have been delaying the inevitable chaos that spirals to the center." she said fluidly, aiming her eyes to the center of the burning forge. She watched as the coals crackled.

"I am the Greek Goddess, Euthenia, daughter of Hephaestus, the mighty God of metalworking and blacksmiths. Hence the grand forge that sits anciently in the center of this room." she waved a fine hand towards her point of interest, making Oren look over to it.

An anvil rested nearby, accompanied by a long, thick blade crafted of steel. She chuckled at his observations.

"This very room was built in my honor on my first day of birth." she seemed quite calm as she sat down on one of the large barrels, crossing her legs quaintly. "I beseech thee of one request, before thy awakening."

"Make it quick, then." Oren spoke, voice as crisp as the night air. He paused, confused. It was as if he's finally has the water he was in lack of while in captivity.

"You dare speak to me with that filthy tongue of yours.. I will let it go for now. Next time you will not be so lucky, mortal. You have been given a nearly impossible opportunity to even lay your eyes upon me." she sighed, "you should be everlastingly grateful for my tolerance."

After a while of silence, she spoke again, voice ringing. "You must stop that unruly dragon of yours from destroying my valued trinkets. It is painful, you see. Those little things from each dimension are part of my life force."

"What will I get in return?" Oren snapped, stepping forward as Euthenia smirked softly.

"I'm afraid our time has reached it's limit. May the Prince of decay and dread lead your path, mortal." She stood up, preparing to banish the elf from her presence. Oren's vision wavered, and he collapsed onto the marble floor, eyes closing lazily.

_

Oren's eyes twitched relentlessly, eyebrows caving in as he hesitantly allowed the dull moonlight to seep into his vision. The silver streaks of light poured in through the back-mounted window, lighting up a bright square in the middle of their bedroom. Oren craned his head towards the window as his vision readjusted.

The air was cleaner and cooler than the containment. It smelled of cozy woolen clothing and the lonely haze of melancholy. It oddly smelled of home; a safe place. Oren sat up with a dull ache in his wrists and ankles.

His mouth was no longer parched and he could actually feel his teeth and tongue again. His hair felt soft and silky, smelling of citrus shampoo.

He looked down to see a mint green turtleneck that folded just above his collarbone. It was comfortable to say the least. Oren wasn't wearing any bottoms except for fossil grey boxer briefs. He then curiously scanned the room, noticing the lack of his human lover.

"Clayton..?" he called softly, his timid voice ringing out within the silence. Every move he made seemed to magnify in sound, so he tried to stay quiet. It was eerily quiet, and even the air was still. It was as if time had stopped moving altogether.

'Is this another dream?' He felt his sweater and clenched the fabric, pulling reality to his grasp. 'No. It's real this time.'

"Clayton." he beckoned again, standing up slowly. His legs ached a little. There were footsteps from outside of the closed door, and Oren tensed as the doorknob jiggled. He covered his mouth slowly, watching as the brass knob twisted and the door came creaking open.

"You're awake.. Are you okay? Are you feeling any better? Can you move your fingers?" Clayton rushed in, cradling Oren's face in his hands, checking for injuries. His thumb swiped over the gauze patch that was on Oren's right cheek below his eye.

"You had a piece of glass lodged into your cheek.. It luckily stopped all the blood from escaping." Clayton pressed a peck to the gauze patch before catching Oren's lips in a chaste kiss. When he pulled away, Oren looked up at him, dazed and confused.

"Wh-- Yeah, I'm fine... But.." he trailed off, eyes shifting hastily.

"But?" the human pressed.

"How am I not dead?" Oren asked bluntly. "My voice is perfectly fine, and my throat only hurts a little; compared to how it felt before. How did you manage to fix me?"

"Come on, don't say it like that.. I was lucky to even find you. If I hadn't searched the basement, you would've been..." Clayton left the rest for Oren to figure out. The basement, huh?

"But how did-"

"You're still not entirely healthy. Have you seen your chest? What about your wrists, or your fever?" Clayton gently lifted Oren's sweater to reveal his gaunt ribcage, and the same to his arms, only with a worse result. His wrists looked... awful, really.

They were wrapped in a thick bandage and even then, the blood seeped through the cloth without effort. A mixture of sickly purples and reds dotted the outer rim of the bandage. Oren's fingers were tinged with a faint blue as he wiggled them weakly.

"Baby, you have to eat something, and quick. Your body is already feeding off of your muscle, which is hard to fix; but possible." Clayton turned back into the hallway as clinking and shuffling could be heard from the bathroom.

"Please. Eat for me." Clayton emerged from the bathroom and re-entered the bedroom, holding a large platter of steaming food. Oren's eyes drew to the food immediately as he gulped nervously.

How long had the food been there? How is it still hot? Was he planning this?

Oren looked up to the apologetic human, who was now trying to hold back tears.

"I'm sorry for letting you slip away."

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Thanks for reading!