21
It was really strange to wake up the next morning in an actual bed, and it took a moment for me to remember where I’d gone to sleep. Scar didn’t seem to have any trouble at all; his nose was practically in my face when I pried my eyes open.
‘I’m hungry,’ the little shit didn’t even give me a chance to sit up before his words filtered into my brain.
Normally, he preferred to hunt for his own food, but that obviously wasn’t an option inside the garrison. Still, he could have given me at least one fucking minute before pestering me for something to eat. Throwing the covers aside, I flung them over his head as I got up and stalked over to where I’d left my clothing. Getting dressed as slowly as possible, I made him wait as long as I could while he stared at me with a stupid-looking smirk on his canine face.
The small kitchen downstairs was well stocked, having everything I needed to make the first decent meal we’d had in weeks. As Scar continued to wait ‘patiently’ for his food, I began cracking some eggs, planning to prepare breakfast for everyone while I was at it. Fresh bread and butter combined with several large ham steaks rounded things out, a veritable feast compared to our dining options of late.
Gross, I sent to Scar in disgust as a thin line of saliva fell from the corner of his mouth, persuading me to finally relent and toss him a pair of steaks.
While he busied himself gnawing on the hunks of meat I’d given him, Derrik emerged, apparently roused from his slumber by the aromas emanating from the kitchen. Rubbing his eyes and yawning, the former Sentinel offered me a distracted grin as he sat down at the kitchen table.
Something seemed off, however, and I was still staring at Derrik trying to figure out what it was when his door opened once more, and Agna shuffled out. Obviously not quite awake and wearing only a long sleeping shirt, she bumped into the wall in her distraction, managing to settle into the chair beside Derrik just as his eyes flew open in recognition. Taking in the couple, the meaning behind their flushed cheeks—his bright red and Agna’s a deeper shade of green—became all too apparent.
Derrik avoided my gaze completely as I smiled and served them their breakfast. Setting a plate in front of Agna, I took the opportunity to adjust her collar slightly, covering a dark green ‘bruise’ on her neck, roughly the size of Derrik’s mouth. I returned to the kitchen without a single word being exchanged between us, whistling an innocent-sounding tune as I prepared a plate for myself.
As if on cue, Kyrah joined us right on time, and both Agna and Derrik squirmed in their seats while I continued to smile at them broadly. Sitting across from the new lovers, I chewed on a single bite of bread before announcing their union.
“So, Kyrah,” I could feel the mischief sparkle in my eyes as I spoke. “Agna might have something she wants to share with you this morning.”
Having no need to eat save for when I fed her, Kyrah had only joined us out of habit. Glancing up from the cup of tea in her hands, she seemed to take in the couple for the first time. Agna remained quiet, of course, offering Kyrah nothing while I watched closely to see if she picked up on their new relationship.
“Wait,” Kyrah looked at me with a puzzled expression as I held my breath in anticipation. “You didn’t know about the two of them until now?”
After I picked my jaw up off the floor, I turned towards Agna only to find both her and Derrik in a similar state of disbelief. Apparently, they’d been an item for at least some time, yet I’d noticed nothing that had given their status away. Looking back over the past few days, I recalled Agna’s constant vigilance over our ‘prisoner,’ finally seeing what had been so obvious to Kyrah all along. There had been far more to the orc’s ministrations than a simple sense of duty, and Derrik had clearly felt a similar attraction towards her as well.
“I shouldn’t be so surprised—this is nothing new to me,” I shook my head, frustrated with my own blindness more than anything. “Back home, relationships like yours are common. I just didn’t think they happened here quite so frequently.”
“They don’t,” Derrik spoke firmly as he looked me in the eye. “As you are well aware, our people aren’t quite as open-minded as yours seem to be.”
“Mine are no better,” Agna added her downcast voice to his. “We’d be no more welcomed among my tribe than anywhere else.”
“Were it up to me, I’d be proud to claim Agna as my own.” A faint smile creased her lips with his declaration, and even though their hands were hidden from view, I caught the shifting of their arms as they reached towards each other. “While I won’t give her up, I also recognize that it’s not safe for us to be together openly just yet—until it is, we’re forced to keep this secret.”
“I understand,” I replied, even though I most certainly didn’t; such blatant bigotry was a completely foreign concept to me. Still, circumstances being what they were, their sense of discretion was clearly warranted.
“You have the strangest effect on people,” Kyrah mused openly, her head tilting slightly to one side as she seemed to evaluate me.
“Okay, you can’t blame this on me.” I returned her curious look with a harsh stare as I protested the obvious implications of her remark.
“Do you really think…” Agna’s voice trailed off before she could complete the thought.
“Honestly, I have no idea, Agna.” Kyrah was still appraising me despite my glare. “But things always seem to fall right into place when Ashíel is around.”
Despite my desire to dispute what she’d said, I actually wasn’t sure that I could argue with her on that. Considering all that had happened, it was becoming increasingly difficult for me to chalk everything up to coincidence. While I knew that I couldn’t just sit around and wait for things to happen, whenever I rolled the dice, they certainly seemed to land in my favor.
“Don’t you have an appointment?” I pivoted towards Derrik in a blatant attempt to change the course of our conversation.
“Oh, shit, I almost forgot!” Derrik took one last bite before rushing back to his room to get dressed.
Before leaving us the night before, Leshel had ‘requested’ that Derrik return to his office for a debriefing in the morning. After the… interesting night he’d apparently had, I didn’t doubt that fact had slipped Derrik’s mind.
“Maybe you should escort him,” I couldn’t stop the mocking smile from returning to my face, causing Agna’s cheeks to flush again. “I’m sure he’d appreciate your company.”
Agna hurried away but then paused when she reached the pair of doors in the hallway. I wondered why she continued to hesitate until it came to me: She only had the one outfit I’d given her. Leaning back in my chair, I watched as she stood there, knowing that both Kyrah and I were watching. Finally, in a fit of frustration, she let out a deep breath before straightening herself and walking through the door that led into Derrik’s room.
“You are so evil,” Kyrah’s hand covered her mouth, suppressing her laughter.
While I finished my breakfast, Kyrah busied herself cleaning up the dishes, but it only took a few minutes for the two of them to emerge again, obviously uneasy. Despite my taunting, I was happy for them, so I decided to offer the couple a reprieve.
“I’m glad you two found each other.” They drew up short, eying me suspiciously as they waited for my next jab. “It isn’t easy to go against such powerful forces; I can’t tell you how much I admire your strength.”
“I… Thank you.” After all my teasing, Agna clearly hadn’t been prepared for the sincere compliment.
“You’re welcome,” I replied, offering her a genuine smile in return, one completely lacking even a trace of mockery.
“But you,” my grin belied the harsh tone of my words as I regarded Derrik. “I still might slit your throat if you ever mistreat her.”
“I would expect nothing less.” Visibly relaxing, he took hold of Agna’s hand once my typical demeanor returned.
I truly was gratified by their coming together, and the smile remaine
d on my face as I watched them depart hand in hand, at least until they stepped outside. Sitting back down to finish my meal, Kyrah resumed her evaluation of me.
“You can be really sweet when you want to.” Despite all the time we’d spent with each other, she seemed quite surprised by that sudden epiphany.
“What the fuck do you mean by that?” Something about the way she’d said, ‘when you want to’ really irked me.
“And then there’s the rest of the time,” she sighed, rolling her eyes in frustration.
Okay, maybe she had a point.
“Sorry.” I felt a little bad for snapping at her like that.
“You’re used to being constantly angry, aren’t you?” With everything I’d told her, I guess it wasn’t too hard for Kyrah to pick up on that. “You can let your guard down, Ash; it’s okay to just be yourself with us.”
“I’m trying.” Although I knew that my companions were true friends, after nearly a decade of stewing in a pit of bitter resentment, it was proving difficult for me to adjust to this new reality.
“I know you are.” Kyrah pulled me towards the door, ending the discussion when she saw that I was growing uneasy. “C’mon, let’s go do some shopping!”
Perusing the stores in the civilian part of the garrison was certainly a good distraction. Even though Scar drew a few concerned stares as he accompanied us, it seemed that most had already been made aware of his presence. I appreciated Leshel’s apparent foresight in doing so since I didn’t plan on leaving him behind all the time, making our little excursion all the easier.
The shops were well supplied, but thanks to Dreya, I had the best armor and weapons in all the Free Lands, and the equipment Noxyl had provided for me was also fairly complete. I did take advantage of the opportunity to add a few spare outfits to my wardrobe and replenish my supply of food, but there was little else that caught my eye. Clad in the armor and weapons we’d scavenged from the fallen Sentinels, Kyrah wasn’t in need of any upgrades either, so she also focused on the more mundane supplies. Still, the outing was the first opportunity we had to simply relax and enjoy a few hours doing something close to ‘normal,’ and we took full advantage of it.
After a leisurely lunch at the tavern, Kyrah bid me farewell as she too had an appointment with Leshel—having never met another half Nér-vrogan, there was a great deal she hoped to learn from him. Not even knowing that she was able to sense one of her kind should they draw near had exposed the wide gaps in her knowledge, so I was happy to send her off.
The next several days passed in almost the exact same manner: Agna accompanying Derrik on his daily debriefings with Leshel, and Kyrah following later in the day. Although my mornings were spent with Kyrah, once she departed, Scar and I explored the lands surrounding the fortress, providing him with the opportunity to hunt. Afterwards, I returned to practice my magic and spar with Leshel’s soldiers for a while, though they seemed most interested in watching me cast my Spells. Aside from keeping my Skills sharp, the hours I spent there left our quarters empty, allowing Agna and Derrik the opportunity to be alone with each other for a while.
Although we had some time and a little space of our own at the moment, I didn’t know how long that situation would last. The increasing level of activity around the garrison made it obvious that Leshel was planning something, though he chose to keep the precise nature of the operation to himself. I could only imagine that whatever it was, we would be at the center of his scheme; between Derrik’s knowledge of the Nér-vrogans’ defenses and my unique ability to kill them, that much was quite clear.
After nearly ten days, we’d pretty much settled into our routine. Yet despite the calm, I began to grow restless, knowing that Leshel had some ambitious plan waiting for me. Unable to sleep one evening, I sat downstairs in the kitchen, sipping a mug of ale alone in the darkness. While I pondered what the future might have in store for us, the front door slowly slid open.
My first thought was that the stealthy entry was the opening move of some attack, but the faint reflection of moonlight off the bright red halo of Kyrah’s hair gave away the intruder’s identity before I could reach for my blades. I’d thought she was sleeping upstairs in the room next to mine, and my curiosity was piqued as I watched her gingerly step across the floor.
“Late night?” She startled when I called out to her in the blackness.
“I—What are you doing up?” She responded, her flustered voice avoiding my question.
“Where were you?” Kyrah’s reluctance to answer only made me want to know even more as I rose from my chair and strode towards her.
“Just… out, that’s all,” she turned towards the sound of my voice in the near-total darkness.
The obvious lie and her increasingly defensive tone had definitely gotten my attention, but as I stepped closer, the faint trace of blood in the corner of Kyrah’s mouth drew me to a complete stop. She’d told me quite clearly that I was the only one she could feed upon, so the presence of that crimson droplet instantly made me fear the worst.
“What have you done?” I couldn’t accept that she’d lied to me, yet the evidence seemed all too clear.
“N-nothing.” She backed away a half-step at my accusation, pinning herself against the door.
“There’s blood on your lips, Kyrah.” I reached out, grabbing hold of both her hands as I pulled her towards me. “I don’t know what’s happened, but you need to tell me the truth. Right now.”
As she bowed her head, I could feel Kyrah’s guilt through my fingertips, and there wasn’t even a moment of hesitation as I began plotting our escape. The need to shield her from the consequences of her actions was obvious; I only wondered how we’d manage to sneak away with so many soldiers guarding the exits.
“It’s not what you think,” her voice was unsteady, and Kyrah still stared at her feet when she finally replied.
“It’s… Leshel’s,” I could barely make out the final word of her low whisper, yet even without Scar to confirm it for me, I knew that she’d spoken the truth.
My hands fell limply to my side as I released my grip on her, completely unprepared for the answer she’d finally given me. We’d frequently talked about her need for me, and in all our discussions, she’d repeatedly told me that the Nér-vrogan were unable to feed from each other—their survival required them to feast upon mortal blood.
“Were both only half-Nér-vrogan,” Kyrah explained, clearly understanding my confusion. “Each of us carries what the other needs within our veins.”
“I… see,” I turned my back on her, hiding my face as I returned to my seat and took a deep sip from my mug.
“You won’t let me feed you anymore, will you?” I was no fool; Kyrah hadn’t spent nearly the entire night with Leshel for only that reason—there was obviously more going on between the two of them than just that. Yet rather than feeling as if I’d been freed from some burden, it felt more like I’d been cast aside.
“I think that would only confuse both of us, Ash.” She took a step towards the table before I warded her off.
“You’re probably right about that,” I downed the rest of my drink and set the cup on the table, perhaps a bit too forcefully. “Goodnight, Kyrah.”
Leaving her standing alone in the darkness below, I climbed the stairs to my room, the sharp click of door’s lock echoing loudly in the dead silence.
It wasn’t as if there’d been anything more than a few heated moments between us, and even those fleeting encounters had only happened because of my unknowing manipulations. Yet I knew that Kyrah’s relationship with Leshel would also put some distance between us, spelling the end of any possibility of something more. As I settled in beneath the covers, I realized that I was once again alone in this world; each of my companions having found someone to share their lives with, leaving me with no one but myself.
Scar’s yawn as he slept at the foot of my bed reminded me that wasn’t precisely true, but the sense of rejection still stung. After nearly a decade
of spurning every suitor that had come my way, I wasn’t pleased to discover just how painful it was to be on the other side of that equation. Gathering my blankets, I curled up on the floor, cherishing the comfort of Scar’s warmth over the loneliness of the bed.
‘What’s wrong, Ashíel?’ Although I tried not to disturb him, my jostling woke Scar from his sleep.
Nothing, I lied before changing my mind. Everything. I don’t know.
Explaining what I’d discovered provided me with the opportunity to consider things once again, and even though I didn’t actually feel any better, I did realize that my thoughts had been only about myself. While I’d been happy for Agna and Derrik, I’d allowed my own selfishness to spoil what Kyrah had found with Leshel. Half-Nér-vrogan were rare enough; they’d been extremely fortunate to have even met each other—the two of them deserved my best wishes, not my petty scorn. It was exactly the same sort of mistake that had driven me from Dreya, and I knew right then that it was yet another error I needed to correct.
Realizing what I had to do, I snuggled against Scar and allowed myself the luxury of a good night’s sleep before swallowing my pride the next morning. Once I got ready, I sent Scar outside before joining Kyrah at the small dining table where we took our meals. Although it was obvious that she’d been waiting for me, as I approached, Kyrah was clearly bracing herself for some sort of rebuke. Watching me with an increasing sense of suspicion, Kyrah startled slightly when I only sat beside her and placed my hand over hers.
“I’m sorry. That wasn’t very fair of me at all,” I felt her relax as I whispered my apology. “Can you forgive me?”
Kyrah nodded her head but made no reply, both of us unsure what to say next. Neither of us spoke for a while, but I finally broke the silence when it became unbearable.
“So, Leshel, huh?” I smiled as I took in the crimson flush of her cheeks.
“I know you don’t like him very much, but he’s actually really nice,” although she had a difficult time looking me in the eye, I could see just how taken Kyrah was with him.
Second Skin: Wayward: A litRPG Adventure (Second Skin Book 7) Page 22