(THOB) Chapter 111: A Death Wish (Patreon)

Ezril’s head turned immediately. Looking over his shoulder he saw Lenaria standing in front of the tent, eyes casting in different directions, searching. He returned his attention to Cyrinth but the man was gone, as though he had never been there in the first place.

Cyrinth had seemed like a dying man the last time they had met. Tonight, he’d seemed like a man cheating death. And he smelled something putrid. Ezril discarded the thoughts. If he could believe the man, then he would see him again. And then, he would have his answer. For now, he turned around and walked towards Lenaria.

He knew the moment she saw him. Her shoulders eased, the worry on her face slid away. However, she did not smile. A part of him had expected her to. The look in her eyes shifted from worry to anger and he stopped in his tracks. Reconsidering his choices, he stepped back. She fixed him with a glare and he stopped his retreat. Although certain she couldn’t see much, he knew she could see enough.

She stalked towards him but he dared not move. He had seen the look she afforded him before. They had been children, and he had gotten into a fight with one of the boys. Things had happened, and the boy had made fun of the color of her hair in his presence. He had called her an abomination worse than the Tainted and Ezril had chosen to settle it with his fists. Suffice it to say, he had begged Lenaria for at least a week before she had agreed to talk to him again.

She stood before him now, studying his face carefully before her gaze glanced all over him, taking him in. All the while Ezril watched in silence, allowing her whatever it was she wanted. He could see the signs of tears on her cheek and his heart fell. As long as he could remember, it had always hurt to see her cry. But it hurt more to know he was the cause of it. He moved his hand to wipe her cheek and she slapped it away.

“Where were you?” she demanded. There was fury in her eyes.

“Out.”

“Out?” she repeated, incredulous. “Out!”

He nodded gently. “I was talking with an old friend.”

“Old friend.” She scoffed. “Do you know where we are, Ezril?”

Ezril shook his head.

“Does your friend live here?”

He shook his head again.

“So you have no idea where you are, but your friend does. How did he know to find you here?”

He kept still, not daring to upset her more than he already had. “He has a way with finding people… and places.”

Lenaria turned away and screamed into the darkness. She screamed loud and hard. It pierced the darkness in a shrill shriek, sharp enough to summon the dead. She screamed, and when she was out of air, she screamed again. Exasperated, she returned to him and shoved him. He staggered a few steps back before regaining his composure. She shoved him again, and again, and again. He staggered back each time, never resisting. He knew it was only a matter of time before she’d strike him. The blow came as expected, hot across his cheek, the sound echoing through the night. He’d prepared for different reactions, but a slap had not been one of them, and he was unable to hide his surprise.

She grabbed his coat by the collar and pulled him close. “You almost died,” she told him with teary eyes. “You almost died, Ezril. Don’t you understand? I had to watch you lie on the brink of death for days while people I have never met before did what they could to bring you back to me.” Now she spoke between sobs. “I worried about you. And what do you do when you wake up? You come out into this cold night to speak with an old friend. DO YOU HAVE A DEATH WISH?!” she yelled.

Releasing him, she recreated the distance between them. “Is that it, Ezril?” she asked, her voice eerily calm. “Did you think you could just die after saving my life? Did you think I would let that happen?”

Ezril closed the gap between them and she shoved him again. “Do you think praying to the gods would’ve solved anything?” she continued, but now her words were a whisper, bearing down in defeat. “Did you think Rin was your best option?” She looked up at him. “If you had died, she would’ve taken you. And if she had taken me, you would have died. You said it yourself that I cannot trust her, that I should not give in. Then you turn around and pray to her because I was going to die!?” she accused. “If I die. Then I die. But Rin will not have me. Not because I don’t want her to, but because you don’t want her to. Do you understand?”

Ezril nodded. “Yes,” he answered slowly. “She will never have you, and I shouldn’t have done that.”

She searched his gaze before she spoke again. “Good.” Then, closing the distance between them, she hugged him.

He hugged her back, taking in her warmth. Soothing her hair as she continued to sob. They stood in silence and he let her shed the tears that came, saying nothing.

“If you want someone to pray to,” she finally said against his chest, “pray to me.” She sniffled. “And if you cannot pray to me, then pray to yourself, Not the gods.” She pulled her head away from his chest to look him in the eye. “The gods are a lie. Do you understand?”

He took her face in his hand and returned her head to his chest. “I understand,” he told her. “I won’t pray to the gods.”

They stood in the open night a while longer before they returned to the tent.

Cyrinth came the next night as promised, and Ezril met him fully clothed in the black trouser and vest of the seminary. After the old man’s first visit he had found that he and Lenaria hadn’t been the only things the people who took them in had taken from the forest. Along with them had been his Sunders and his bow.