Lingering Glance (Patreon)

Mist holds your collective gaze. "May the road rise up to meet you, mercenaries."

"And the wind be always at your back," Hadrian says, lowering his head in goodbye.

Alessa leaps to her feet. "We shall be in touch."

*choice

*1) You go to rise but suddenly stop. You have an ancient gauntlet in your satchel, and who better to trade it to than Mist? "Actually," you say. "We have one last thing to discuss."

2) You get up. "May the sun shine warm on your face," you say, continuing the blessing.

3) You grin. "It's been a pleasure."

4) You leave without another word.

5) You start to walk towards the door... but pause. "We have eyes on the back of our heads, Mist," you tell the lord over your shoulder. "Don't cross us."

*6) "I have this," you say, putting Aurelius' rapier on top of the desk. "What can you give me for it?"

- - -

2) You get up after your companions. "May the sun shine warm on your face," you say to Mist, continuing with the old blessing. *You're unsure where it came from, but it's customary for travelers to ask their priest to recite it before they embark on a journey. Adso recited it to you when it was time to travel back to your farm, putting his warm hand on the top of your head while Phoenix flew around in circles, her shrieks adding to the blessing. The memory of his voice shakes you for a moment, but you smile.

*You're unsure where it came from, but it's customary for travelers to ask their priest to recite it before they embark on a journey. But merchants often wished it on each other when they crossed on the road. You remember saying it to Benji and Mai by the bonfire on your last night together. The memory of their faces bathed by flame shakes you for a moment, but you smile.

*You're unsure where it came from, but it's customary for travelers to ask their priest to recite it before they embark on a journey. Old Father Roberto of your village would bless the hunting parties going out in the spring, putting his wrinkled finger on the forehead of each of them. You remember when it was your first time to be blessed. How proud you felt, how your mother had smiled. The memory shakes you for a moment, but you smile.

-

It has been such a long time since you've said it.

"Appreciate it, but that part doesn't apply to me," Mist says with wry amusement. "I rather stay away from the sun."

"May the shadows welcome you, then."

"Much better," the underground lord declares as you follow Hadrian and Alessa out of the door.

Behind, Mist sits between his wax watchers, bathed by orange and blue flames, with his hands crossed and his eyes like two black spheres glistening from the depths.

Watching him sit on his large throne, you can't help but think of a giant spider squatted in the middle of its far-reaching web. Its many feet waiting for even a shred of a vibration.

*ending