Brotherhood Saga 03: Death (39 page)

“You can’t tell just by looking at me?”

“Drow do not live forever, nor do humans. You are very likely to die from age just like any other creature.”

“That doesn’t matter though,” Virgin said. “Does it, zir?”

“No. You are young. You will live a long and healthy life.”

“Thank you,” Odin said, standing. “Are we excused?”

“You may return tomorrow if you so desire.”

“Thank you.”

Jarden stood, extended zir
s arm, then reached out to take Odin’s hand.

When their palms touched, Odin couldn
’t help but feel as though he had just succeeded in his plan.

“How do you think that went?” Odin asked, sliding his hands into his pockets as he and Virgin made their way down the deserted city road.

“I think it went fine,” Virgin replied, tilting his head up to examine the distant moon, which lay shadowed behind a formation of clouds moving in from the east. “Why? Do you not think it did?”

“I was nervous, and wasn’t necessarily sure whether or not I was addressing zir correctly.”

“You did fine, Odin. Don
’t beat yourself up.”

“I
’m trying not to.”

“Hey,” Virgin said, stopping him in midstride and taking him by the arms. “Look at me for a second.”

Odin tilted his head up to look his companion directly in the eyes.

“You… did… absolutely… amazing. And you look it too.”

“Are you just saying that?”

“No. Why would I
?”

Because you feel like you owe it to me,
he thought.
Because you bought me this entire suit without thinking twice.

“Odin,” Virgin said, tilting his head up when his gaze faltered and began to fall to the ground. “You don
’t… think I don’t care about you, do you?”

“It
’s not that.”

“Then what is it?”

“Can I be honest?”

“You know you can.”

“I’ve been having a lot harder time with this then I think I should be.”

“You
’re coming into terms with who you are. That’s always hard.”

“It
’s… not that. Well… it’s partially that, but—“

“But what?”

Odin said nothing. Instead, he tore his gaze away from Virgin, broke away from the Halfling’s hold, then began to walk up the road, lacing his fingers behind the back of his head and trying his hardest to figure out just what it was he was going to say to a man whose feelings he knew nothing about.

Will you be hurt,
his conscience whispered,
if he says no?

Would he, though? Would he really,
truly
feel as though his world were about to end if he was denied the result to a question that could be answered in but a few brief moments? He couldn’t know, couldn’t possibly even begin to imagine just what it was that would plague his heart or doubt his mind, for he had never felt this way before about anyone or anything. The only thing that had come close was his love for Nova, whom he considered his best friend, and his father, whom had been his mentor for most of his young adult life. Ectris—he’d been different; and Mother Karma—she’d been but a substitute, someone who took care of him in place of a mother he did not have.

“Odin,” Virgin said, summoning his gaze with but one simple word.

“I’m still here,” he replied.

“What were you about to ask?”

Could he really say it now that it was out in the open?

Can I?
he thought.
Or will I just chicken out?

When Virgin stepped up behind him and set both his hands on his shoulders, Odin visibly cringed, then turned completely around so he could look at Virgin
’s face.

When his vision cleared and the light of the moon revealed a visage of pain and confusion, Odin felt for one brief moment like his entire world was about to c
ome collapsing down around him. “Are you in love with me?” he whispered.

Virgin said nothing.

There,
he thought.
You said it. And you got exactly what it was you expected—nothing.

A word, a phrase, a touch, a simple press of a pair of lips so fine and full to his forehead—all would have made it better, would have dispelled the pain in but one moment, but for there to be nothing was like being thrown into a never-ending pit and forced to live for the rest of your life in midair. Sure—there would eventually be a pause, a skip, a beat when you were finally able to sleep or the moment you would finally die after starvation, but until that moment, there would be nothing at all to console your mind from a moment of pain that would last you until you died.

The Halfling reached forward and slid his hand into Odin’s hair.

Odin turned his head down.

Virgin tilted his head back up.

“I care about you,” Virgin whispered.

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Odin said.

“I
’ve never been in love with anyone before.”

“Neither have I.”

“I don’t know how to answer your question, Odin.”

“You should
’ve just said that from the start.”

“I don
’t want to hurt you.”

“You
’re not. You can’t.”

“I can
’t?”

“Not… not when you treat me like this. Like I
’m the king of my own world.”

“Is that really how I make you feel?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you.”

“For what?”

“For telling me that. How I make you feel.”

“Virgin,” Odin whispered.

“Yeah?”

“You’re the only person I’ve ever let be this close to me.”

“Then it
’s an honor for me to be that person.”

Reaching down, Odin laced their
hands together, then turned and began to lead Virgin up the road.

Though the night was cold, there would ultimately be solace in a place enclosed and shrouded within a home of wood, steel and tears.

The following morning began with a breath of fresh air and a sigh from a sleeping man
’s lips. The sun pale in the sky, the city sparkling like pearls, the sound of birds cackling alight in the air and echoing off each and every surface—Odin opened his eyes to find that miniature rainbows had appeared along the windowpanes and were casting shards of color across the room, creating what appeared to be, in all matters and semblances, a collage of good fortune that seemed perfectly placed in light of everything that had taken place last night. However, much to his regress, he found himself unable to enjoy the moment, for fears irrational and completely out of this world haunted his mind like an ever-present specter waiting to cast his life into the shadows.

It
’s all right,
he thought, taking slow breaths  to try to calm himself down.
Everything’s going to be just fine. Just keep telling yourself that you aren’t getting in over your head.

Could he, though? Truthfully, he didn
’t know what was about to happen, what the Neven D’Carda would say come time for his arrival this afternoon when he walked, dressed in casual best, to the castle’s front doors and allowed himself entry by summon alone. To think he could would have been an atrocity predicting doom itself, a false hand on a blank parchment of sheet declaring to any and all that it now ruled this world and no one could stop it.

In the midst of the chaos ruling his mind, Virgin slept peacefully at his side, his breathing falling in, then out of his chest in a rhythm Odin couldn
’t help but envy.

How can he do it?

Perhaps Virgin bore no consequence to what was about to happen because he was not the one who would be taught, judged and possibly ridiculed in the face of what could possibly be one of the most ethereal creatures he had ever encountered.

Pushing himself into a sitting position, Odin draped the sheets over his waist and turned his eyes back to the window that seemed so perfectly happy with reflecting its rainbows. Already they had begun to fade, their lustrous color now dimmed to a fine shine that resembled nothing of the
aftereffect of a man’s spit on a boot, though that did little to belittle the fact that they were still there, persevering as though not a warm spot in the world could stop them. They could—and, most likely, should—be envied, for such an open demonstration of courage was not often seen in the world they lived in. Men could run blind, as ignorant as they were, and women could shake their heads, disgusted at the possibility that they be asked or pressed to do things that they should not be required or expected to do. Children would turn their eyes up in fear when a looming shadow began to cross over the horizon, while those creatures dumb but lacking enough intelligence to comprehend would cower in fear at the reality that things would surely be changing. Courage, whether one experienced it or not, had to be admired, if only because of how seldom it appeared.

With a short shake of his head, Odin pushed his legs over the side of the
bed, then walked to the door, where he pressed his eye against the porthole and looked out at the empty hallway in search of what could have possibly been an answer to the world’s most sinister question.

Could he really do what he was expected to do?

I have to.

Without admission into the castle, and without apprenticing
beneath a figure that might know the location of the Book, there would be no chance in the Gods’ green earth that he would ever get close to the goal he so desperately longed to press forward to.

“You
’re awake?” Virgin’s low voice asked.

Odin turned his head and offered a slight nod as his companion propped himself up with one elbow. “Yeah,” he said.

“Somethin’ wrong?”

“No. Why?”

“We got in pretty late last night. I expected you to sleep longer.”

Do I tell him?

There would be no use in burdening Virgin with his problems, as it would likely only lead to frustrations that he need not be bothered by.

“I saw the rainbows,” he decided to say.

“Sorry?” Virgin asked.

Odin pointed toward the window, where, faintly visible across the open air, the miniature rainbows continued to shimmer in the light streaming through the panes of glass.

“Ah,” the Halfling said, settling back down and pressing his hands behind his head. “Why don’t you come back to bed?”

“I
’m too nervous to sleep.”

“Still—it
’s a bit cold in here all by myself.”

“I
’m sure you’ve managed before.”

“Yeah, but now I don
’t have to.”

Unable to resist the urge to snicker, Odin stepped forward, slid back onto the bed, then slung his leg over Virgin
’s waist, where he looked down and into his eyes before closing the distance between them until their noses touched.

Immediately, thoughts of last night came flooding back.

I’ve never been in love with anyone before.

As haunting as the thought was, there seemed to be an underlying strain of emotion that somehow connected them. A golden wire, strung forth and held taut, connecting two souls and bridging them together. Were there a bridge, it would have been fine, and was there railing, it would have been magical, for emotions did not come into the world freshly born and ignorant of their regard. No. Emotion, as fickle as it sometimes seemed,
existed in a way that allowed human conscience to manifest itself into expression, otherwise they would be nothing more than animals feeding on one another in the plains lands called life.

“Something you want to tell me?” Virgin asked.

“Nothing in particular,” Odin said. “Why?”

“You look like you
’re about ready to pin me to the bed.”

“I wanted to look at your eyes.”

“Any particular reason?”

Because I see the world in them,
he thought, but said nothing.

Instead, he lowered his face to the side of Virgin
’s head, then wrapped his arms around the older Halfling.

A tremor of unease rose in his heart.

“Virgin.”

“What is it?”

“You don’t… plan on leaving, do you?”

“No.”

“How come?”

“Because I don
’t want to leave you behind.”

Odin closed his eyes.

In that moment, he could have easily cried.

Without his escort at his side, Odin marched up the middle of the road while trying his hardest not to make eye contact with any of the Elves that skirted along the sides of the path. There seemed to be no lack of persecution, as whenever he passed one of the tall, fair creatures, it felt as though he was mercilessly being stabbed in the back over and over again until his vertebrae were disengaged from his spine. As painful as that notion seemed, and as graphic as it was, he couldn’t help but feel as though it was appropriate.