What Makes a Monster

♱Seventy-Three♱

So that night I do as I'm told after managing to read the first chapter. It was a tad different than the last one I tried to read; more going over what Soran said but in far more complicated terms. Good thing he was there to make things less complicated.

Anyways, after reading and when we go to sleep (in our separate rooms), I lay in bed attempting to feel and hear the magic within me. Admittedly, this is a bit ridiculous. There's nothing, no sounds other than my own breathing and Malatis' quiet snores at the bottom of the bed. I don't think he was very pleased with being instructed to sleep with me, but he appears fine now by hogging up all the leg room.

I'm not sure how long I lay awake, but nothing really changes. The only sensation within me is that of my own jitters, thinking of Soran in the other room and wondering if every night we will be using separate rooms. Great, now my face is on fire again, but this is a perfectly logical thought! We're both grown ass adults interested in sex and now dating so, yes, I'm thinking about it. We're at a damn hotel! We have privacy, well--I peer down at the sleeping Malatis--some privacy. And it'd be a complete lie if I said I don't want to sleep with him because I definitely do.

Damn it, I'm meant to be focusing on learning magic! Wallie, stop thinking with the head between your legs!

"That's it, I'm just going to sleep," I grumble to myself, swiftly turning onto my side and disturbing Malatis with an accidental poke to the ribs. He raises his gaze, deep green eyes narrowed on me in the night. I apologize but he still slaps me in the leg with his tail.

"Hey!" I rub my leg, groaning when he stretches out, somehow taking up even more of the bed.

I'm too much of a pushover to make him stop so I end up sleeping curled up in a ball through the night.

~~~~~~

Our first day in Isabe consists of visiting the mine. Wyvin was who we met up with before and he is still there now. Nothing has really changed other than the lack of snow. There are still outhouses around the edges of the mine. Levels of platforms and ladders lead below or to long tunnels into the dark hillsides. Soran's very presence has all on edge. They walk with heads bowed and gazes lowered. His steps seem to echo, making those in his wake flinch. Perhaps he's more feared now with Malatis tagging along. Many squeak or jump back in fear of the winged cat that sticks close to me, but most probably think he's there for Soran instead.

I'm given the same safety gear as last time when following Soran into the mine. He's going over some of the beams as well, inspecting them himself. I don't really know what to look for. I imagine a crack in the wooden or stone beams isn't one that would be missed by an inspection team or workers so I'm not of much help. Instead, I meander behind him admiring the dimly lit tunnels.

"Return to the outhouses with Malatis," Soran eventually orders.

"Huh? W--" I catch myself before asking why. Wyvin and a few other workers are nearby and, well, to them I'm just Soran's butler.

Soran easily catches on to what I was about to say though and goes on to explain, "I'll be going on ahead to inspect the collapse. Wait in the houses until I return."

There will be no arguing, not that I plan to. The tunnels are unsettling. Some sections are so low that our heads brush the ceiling, others are so tall that the darkness comes across as a never-ending void. Being here has taught me that I may be claustrophobic, or simply not crazy enough to go underground. Either way, I'm content with leaving.

The building we wait in must be some kind of lounge area for workers, either to eat or simply take a rest. It's a long narrow building with a few windows and mostly filled with couches and two sets of bunk beds. A few belongings linger in the cupboards or atop them such as jackets, hats and even books. Malatis is pawing at the strings on a pair of boots until I hiss at him to come over. He eyes me suspiciously but actually listens, choosing to instead gnaw at my own shoelaces.