Eternity Glass

VII: Perspective and Detail

Gods help him, she was angry. Blood-boiling, teeth baring angry. He felt her presence before she saw him, but the actual physical sight of her nearly made him jump. It wasn't that he feared her, no. He just expected something else. Confusion? Definitely. Fascination? Maybe. Anger? Not exactly.

"You!" she hissed.

Zafiro held his hands up. "Don't... don't..." Don't what? Touch me? "lash out."

"Oh, you'll wish that's all I did."

He couldn't help it. The chuckle escaped his lips before he could stop it. That little, fragile mortal in front of him acting like she could rip him to shreds. It reminded him of someone from a long time ago.

Her eyes flared and her body shuddered, clearly not as amused as he. His chest tightened, and the smile he didn't realize had bloomed on his face receded. How he must disgust her at this moment. The man that hurt her beloved friend popping into her life against her will not once, but twice. He couldn't even bring himself to sigh. What else was he supposed to think? No matter how much he could hardly tolerate her presence, she'd always hate him more.

"Here." His voice could cut steel. With one hand still in the air, palm facing her, he reached into his pocket with the other and took out the necklace with the labradorite. Before she said anything, he chucked it to her. "A peace offering."

The witchling caught it and turned it between her fingers, checking to make sure it was real. "How did you get this?"

A shrug. "The daemons have an... underlying sense of loyalty."

She put it on. Peace offering accepted. Her eyes remained locked on his even as she neared him, the rest of her body facing the lake.

Up close and especially in Plygnus, the Guardian Realm, Zafiro fought himself to maintain his gaze upon the girl's eyes. Phoris's daughter... the direct descendant of the greatest warrior the Realms have ever seen. It showed. Whether she knew it or not, whether she claimed her bloodline or not, she radiated the same aura as her father. Strong-willed, empathetic, able to keep her head held high despite any backlashes.

He knew about her mother, her aunt. He felt everything through that one touch. How could he not? She knew nothing about mental attacks, leaving her thoughts and memories laid wide open like a book. So, he saw her and everyone around her. He felt the urge to snap that Victoria's neck while the eldest daughter watched.

And he began to dislike Fallon less when he saw that she didn't have the same urge, when he realized that the thought never even crossed her mind.

Still.

"Who are you, Zafiro?" she asked.

He narrowed his eyes. A careful question. Careful with her, dangerous for him. "Who do you think I am?"

Her lips drew into a thin line. She knew that he was deflecting, but trailed along, nonetheless. "They call you the Reaper, but you just look like a lost puppy to me."

A pause. Of all the things people have said to him...

He barked out a laugh. She feared him before, maybe, but now? Oh, she was a fast learner. She knew that if he hadn't killed her, maimed her already, he didn't have the intention to.

She was right.

He sat down on the edge of the rim and leaned back, propping himself with his elbows. "For all you know, I could be the devil himself."

"The devil's misunderstood."

"Oh?"

Now it was her turn to shrug. "Asked his father to be an equal only to be cast out for eternity?" She joined him on the ground. "If you were the devil, sir, then you'd be my brother."