Early morning. The birds sing, and it hurts the rather sensitive ears of David, who has not slept well at all.
Alexander was whimpering yesterday, and red in the face, as David applied the balm to the enchanter’s injured skin. David does not think the enchanter realized, for if he had, Alexander would have surely stopped, or at least, apologized for his reactions.
The bard isn’t sure what to do now. Would staying be indecent—dishonest—if David is starting to find himself dangerously attracted to his new acquaintance?
David wishes he could stop thinking about the expression Alexander made last night. Although he already knows that it is a futile wish, he hopes his aching erection will also soon leave him be, for his pants have grown to be quite uncomfortable, over the mere span of a few hours.
He frowns. A sigh escapes him. Even when it does go away, it always comes back…
Technically, he could take care of the throbbing between his legs. It would only take a single trip to the riverside. A few minutes, at best. But that would not be right. He doubts he’d be able to face Alexander again, after soiling the enchanter’s image.
“David?”
A certain, modest rustling fills the cavern.
David closes his eyes. He wants to pretend—to trick Alexander into thinking he is still asleep. However, if the tales he has heard are true, then the enchanter is able to sense whenever he is conscious, due to his inherited powers.
David decides, that he will not take the risk. He clears his throat. “Y-yes?”
“Has the disappearance of your comrades begun to weigh on you? Is that why you have been unable to find slumber?”
The bard freezes. His shoulders tense. In this moment, he gives silent thanks to the Gods that Alexander cannot read his mind. “That’s mostly it,” David mutters, and he prays Alexander will buy his poorly woven lie.
David expects Alexander to tell him that is unfortunate, or, perhaps, offer him tea, like he had done so politely yesterday. Yet, the enchanter acts on neither of those prophecies. Instead, he clears his throat. He says, “I’ve decided.”
Decided? The bard frowns as he turns to face Alexander with a look of bewilderment sprawled across his features. “Decided what?” he asks.
The young enchanter rises to his feet with a palm placed across his chest; the long cloak he tends to wear at night, follows behind him like a long, over-grown, raven’s wing.
Sunlight blesses the enchanter’s features with a glow that makes him appear as an otherworldly being—an angel—or, perhaps, David thinks, a God, in his own right.
“I’ll be joining you on your quest to find your comrades, David.” Alexander’s voice is calm. He does not seem hesitant in the least bit. And the way he looks at David from over his shoulder, with pink dusting his cheeks and a prideful grin smeared across his lips, causes David’s heart to flutter with warmth. “I hope that is okay.”
David jumps out of his own respective, temporary bed. “I—” He stutters on his next words. He cannot quite find what it is he should say. He is so thankful now, yet, at the same time afraid. What if this is a bad idea?
What if, something happens to Alexander because of him? The bard does not want another to be harmed again, at his behest.
As David pushes a swarm of dark thoughts, that threaten to cloud his mind, back into the depths of his heart, he follows Alexander and forces himself to smile. “T-thank you, that’s—” The bard gulps. “Very kind of you, Alex.”
“Do not thank me.” Alexander turns away. “I have done nothing, yet.”
If the bard isn’t mistaken, his newest ally is… bashful. But, why?
The young enchanter reaches for a few eggs he’d been storing it one of the many, worn cupboards he stole from a local heap of garbage, filled to the brim with the many abandoned belongings of a couple of villagers nearby. “Is it all right with you if we leave after breakfast, instead of eating at a tavern?” Alexander asks David, as he takes out a single egg, then closes his eyes and concentrates on what David supposes, is the inside.
“Sure…” David mutters; perhaps, he should have given Alexander a better answer, truth be told, he is transfixed, by what the young enchanter is currently doing, for the egg has started to glow a deep shade of orange, and David wonders if this is how Alexander cooks most of this food whenever he finds himself alone. “You’re very talented,” he tells his new comrade, in an attempt to break the silence.
There is a sizzle, and then a crack, and Alexander gasps. His eyes widen. He yells, “Watch out!” Before the egg’s glow disappears, as it goes flying across the room, covering the walls in bright yellow yolk and translucent whites, immediately, upon its impact.
David parts his lips. He is speechless again, yet, for a whole other matter entirely this time. He raises his hand to point toward the remnants of the egg, that are now sliding down the wall like an old, lifeless slug. “Uh—” The bard’s brows come to cover his eyes as he frowns. His voice cracks. “Was that supposed to happen?”
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