Black Eyes To Blue

- 11 -

"This might genuinely be the happiest day of my life." Mardston thought to himself as he leaned up against a hitching post in Chult's town square. Looking across the crowded center at the large bonfire lighting up the night sky. He could see glimpses of Soris dancing around the fire leading a long spiraling line of other revelers. The sight of her happy once again, dancing around gracefully without a care in the world. Was making wonderful progress at paving over the horrible memories of her injury, which had been cast in iron in his mind, as what he feared would be his last memories of her for so long. Now that he gazed upon her outward expression of pure bliss, and what he swore felt like pure joy emanating straight from her mind, he was finally able to relax. Relax properly for the first time since he didn't know when.

"This is a lovely party you threw for the girl, she seems to be loving every moment of it." Bluntly stated a low voice next to Mardston, startling him slightly. As Mardston began to turn his head to address the newcomer and thank him for the compliment, a faint memory passed through his mind, "That voice, why do I know that—".

As he turned his head, he looked at the figure casually leaning next to him, and Mardston's blood turned to ice. The frozen adrenaline pulsed through his veins, slowing down time as his hand slowly drifted to his belt, as his eyes moved to make contact into the purple irises of the knight from Lisston Falls.

Taking a step back away from the sudden fury of the giant smith, the handsome young man put his hands up in the air in surrender.

"Whoa! Whoa! Whoa! I come in peace!" Exclaimed the Necromancer in protest, "I promise! If I was going to cause you harm, I would have put a knife in your spine when I snuck up on you! I don't particularly want to get my head torn off again, and you don't want to make a scene do you?"

"You have seven seconds to explain yourself." Mardston growled, hand on the pommel of his dagger, ready to be yanked out for a quick strike.

"Its going to take more than sev—" He began to protest.

"Four."

"Fine! I came in to check to see if you were doing okay!"

"Two."

"I have been looking out for you for a while and I thought now was a good time to sa—"

"The FUCK?" Mardston growled, "Do you mean?"

"Take your hand off that butter knife, and we can talk without anyone staring." Said the Necromancer, making a gesture towards the spiraling ring of revelers. "I think Soris has taken notice."

Looking back towards the bonfire, he could see Soris standing there completely still amongst the dancing townsfolk. An ominous figure of seriousness in a sea of joy. Taking a moment to clear his mind and calm his system. He made a choice. He chose to accept the man's surrender, and suppressed the fear of being wrong that followed in its wake. Focusing his mind to send the thoughts of 'misunderstanding', 'it's alright', and 'have fun' in her direction. He opened his eyes back up to see his angel slowly turn around, and reluctantly join back in to the celebrations, but not retaking her place as the center of attention. The intruder slowly lowered his hands, and went back to leaning on the hitching post next to Mardston, taking great care to make no sudden moves, and to keep his hands away from anything on his person that could be even vaguely interpreted as threatening.

After a few moments of silence, the man asked, "What are you drinking?"

"Juice." Mardston responded, "Apple."

"Cider?" he followed up.

"No, juice. I haven't felt the need to drink in a long time. Are you going to explain to me who the fuck you are, why the fuck you're here, and why in the name of the Gods you have the fucking audacity to walk into my fucking town and pretend like we are old fuckin' war buddies, you fucking Monster?" Mardston growled, staring daggers into the man's dim purple eyes. His hand gripping his pewter cup so tightly, it was on the verge of crumpling under the force.