Obsidian Ring

Chapter 4

There are no coincidences in this world, only deliberate accidents.

Caisimir and Aislinn spent most of that morning in Etta's coffeehouse. Although Etta earlier claimed that she had closed the coffeehouse at Caisimir's request, it was soon revealed that, in fact, the coffeehouse normally did not open until noon, and that Etta had opened it at Caisimir's arrival, not closed it off to others. As the three sat around the table, occasionally sipping from their mugs, Aislinn was mostly silent. She observed her companions, who seemed to be already quite familiar with one another. She observed Etta, who was—like everyone else in the abyss—interesting in her own way, a paradox herself; she acted at the same time very affectionate and virtually asexual. Her eyes and her lips were always telling two contrasting stories. Aislinn observed the coffeehouse interior, which was another sharp contrast to its owner. The place was perfectly modest, while its owner was perfectly flamboyant.

The one she neglected to observe was Caisimir, for reasons unknown to her. Perhaps it was because he felt oddly familiar when compared with Etta, whose presence was much more frightening.

"My memory fails me. What happened last time Volos targeted someone?" Etta was asking, finally dropping her unsettling grin.

"She ultimately died," Caisimir answered after a moment of thought. "It was after a long while of chase, and multiple revivals on Volos's part."

Aislinn perked up in interest. "It's...happened before?" she asked. "Why?"

"Volos is a very particular creature," Caisimir said, turning to Aislinn. "As far as I'm aware, everything he does has a meaning. Volos is the only being among us that has the properties of resurrection, this you know."

Aislinn nodded.

"Precisely because of this, he has seen things that we haven't lived long enough to see; he knows things that we don't."

"In other words," Etta chimed in, "If he targets you, you must be a somewhat important person!"

The ending note to Etta's speech was an exaggerated jingle, accompanied with a close-lipped Cheshire smile.

In response, Aislinn pinched her lips together, bewildered.

"Don't worry too much about it," Caisimir assured, "Remember, love, just call my name and I'll be there—and I am already after Volos every chance I get anyway."

If it wasn't serious, you wouldn't have brought me here, Aislinn found herself thinking, though she had not the courage to speak those words aloud. You wouldn't have discussed it.

It was a rare tingle of emotion, something akin to what Volos had expressed—was it anger? Hate? Wrath? Aislinn was never one that was attuned to her own emotions, and the sudden rush alarmed her, causing her to halt even her own thoughts.

She lowered her head.

"Really, Lord Devitt? Playing 'the man' now, are you?" Etta questioned in Aislinn's stead, not bothering to hide her disgust.

To this, Caisimir let out a breath that was most likely meant to be chuckle. "Really, Etta? Does any part of me look like I'd try to play 'the man' to you?"

Etta gave a hearty laugh before shaking her head. "You are still my favorite man," she said.

"I'm not sure how I should feel about that," Caisimir muttered, shifting his gaze from Aislinn to Etta, then back to Aislinn again.

The skulls around Aislinn were hovering at their usual steady pace, but their wielder was feeling anything but steady. Still, she cast her gaze upon the skulls, hoping their rhythm would in turn bring back her own. Something was stirring within herself, she noticed, changing something within her soul; but she could not name what it was.