Those That Fight

Chapter Three

"You understood everything that was said through you?" Ranas asked Corrin.

"Yes," Corrin answered shakily. "It was like watching everything that was going on from inside my body."

"That's interesting." Ranas replied. "So do you think it's different from succumbing to the temptation of a demon? More of a feeling of expulsion than absorption?"

Corrin seemed uncomfortable. "I...wouldn't know. I've never been approached by an entity beyond the veil of reality."

"Never? But you have barely had any training to manage your power; it's at its most raw and vulnerable state. Could you imagine how much attention that would attract?" Ranas's probing questions continued to push Corrin deeper into discomfort. The whole room seemed tense. No one knew exactly what to do.

"There's two rooms upstairs." Neriad called as he descended the short staircase. "Each with two beds. There's even clothes in the dressers."

"I could use some sleep and a new set of clothes." Celeste stood from where she was sitting. Corrin took the opportunity to escape Ranas's interrogation.

"Maybe we all need some sleep. Celeste and I will sleep in one room." Ranas added as they filed past Neriad up the stairs.

"Not with me?" Neriad sneered at Ranas.

"You better pray that you will wake up in the morning." She spat back at him, shoving him out of the way. He found Corrin still waiting at the foot of the stairs.

"Come on, mage, let's go." Neriad turned and headed back upstairs.

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Klunk.

Neriad's eyes snapped open. The room was still blanketed in darkness. He pushed himself up onto his elbows, straining his ears for another sound, but could only make out Corrin's soft breathing. He threw off the covers and swung his legs over the side of the bed; his back ached for the return to his old, soft bed. Neriad got to his feet and made for the door, slipping on a shirt he had snatched off the nearby dresser. Cautiously opening the door, he stepped out into the hallway. There was a low fire crackling downstairs, but, even worse, someone or something was moving around down there.

He silently made his way to the staircase, descending slowly and warily. When he was finally near enough, he peered over the banister. "My god..." Neriad sighed loudly, slumping down on the stairs. Ranas whirled around from her place at the counter at the sudden sound.

"What the hell did you think you were doing?!" She hissed at him, making an effort to keep her voice down.

"I could ask you the same thing!" Neriad straightened up and descended the remaining steps. "Do you do this often?"

"Do what?" He sensed an thorough annoyance in her voice.

"Do you make a habit of getting up before the crack of dawn?" Neriad questioned, coming towards her. She shifted and a he caught sight of a lumpy shape behind her, sitting on the counter. "What are you doing?" His voice lowered to a more serious note and moved closer to get a look.

"What does it matter to you?" Ranas stepped forward, her face only inches from his, staring up at him defiantly. His eyes left hers for only a moment, but it was enough to see the woven bag.

"You're leaving?" He continued quickly. "You can't go."

"Why not?"

"You heard what the Councilor said. This wasn't just a matter of coincidence. We have to do this." Neriad spoke rapidly, thinking that if he got enough words out he might be able to stop her.