Rosakai stepped forward as Zephren looked up at him expectantly; he really was exceptionally tall.

“You are strong,” Rosakai stated, his voice holding in it a deep sense of conviction; perhaps he wanted Zephren to believe it, too. “Not many people could have made it out of there alive, siren or not.” His silver eyes blinked slowly, holding in them a kind of respect that Zephren had never seen.

Clenching his hand into a fist, tight against the bandages, Zephren scoffed. “I don’t feel strong.”

“Perhaps not now, but you are…” He looked hesitant, as if he were afraid that Zephren might spook easily. “Would you speak to me about what happened? We could sit together…” He gestured towards a small beach down the hill, the steady rhythm of waves washing up on the pale shore. There was an overturned hollowed log lying at the border of the grass and beach, bleached by salt and smooth like bone. “I just want to help.”

Wavering, Zephren took a moment’s pause before he nodded. They walked towards the water’s edge, Rosakai sitting down on the log as soon as they reached it. The sand nearly threw Zephren off balance, reminded of the blasts that had rocked the manor house. He shook the thought away and walked past where Rosakai was sitting, nearly to the water’s edge.

Bending down with a grunt of discomfort, Zeph filled his palm with fine white particles of sand. They sparkled in the moonlight, the softness burrowing in between his fingers before turning into grit. He tipped his hand slowly to the side, watching the sand spill out into small mounds on the beach. “Is this the ocean?” Zephren asked, standing as he walked closer to the waves and looked out at the dark horizon.

Rosakai nodded, grimly. “Yes…this is the ocean.”

Zeph turned, staring at the siren that sat watching him, waiting in anticipation. “Where are we?” Zeph asked, trying to find the sound of his voice over the rush of the waves; it was still rough and slightly hoarse, the inflammation from the smoke making it difficult to speak.

With his fingertips poised together firmly on his lap, Rosakai answered with his calm, deep voice. “In Spheros. It’s mostly ruins. The only real village in this region is south, at the border of Diagate. We’re quite far northeast, about a week’s journey from where I found you.” It was obvious in the way he looked at Zephren that he was waiting, that he harbored a thirst to know Zephren’s secrets…

Zephren had a thirst for knowledge of his own. “How is that possible? Surely it hasn’t been a week since… Since you found me.”

The siren blinked at Zephren cautiously as he conceded, “No. It hasn’t even been a day.” His reply steered away from any real answer as he merely said, “I have means of traveling great distances in a short amount of time, but it’s hardly important how you got here. What’s important is why you are here.” He slid his fingers together, interlocking them as he murmured, “So, why don’t you start from the beginning, and tell me what happened to you.”

With a newly found courage and the hope for more answers, Zephren took a deep breath. “I…” he gulped, trying not to completely swallow down the words. “I was kept in a room below the manor house you found me at. It was my prison. There were no windows…the door was impenetrable… I don’t remember how old I was when I was locked in that room…it was a long time ago.”

Rosakai frowned, almost sad. When he spoke it was a whisper. “I’m sorry… And your father, he was the one that did that to you?”

Zephren nodded.

“Did he hurt you?”

Looking at the ground, Zephren slowly dragged his steps to the water as he pondered his response. His bare feet met the icy cold as they sunk into the sand and waves rushed up his ankles. The feeling of having a part of him submerged in water brought a shiver to his spine. As another wave swept in, the cold began to numb him.

Zephren stepped back and turned towards Rosakai once more. “Yes. He hurt me, when he could.” Walking towards the stranger, Zephren watched as the sand clung to his own wet skin. “And when I escaped…he grabbed me,” he touched over the swollen skin of his jaw, “and broke my arm. I was holding a letter opener—it was all I could find to defend myself. I don’t know if I was planning on hurting him. I was just trying to get answers… But this wasn’t the only time he’s hurt me.”

Rosakai’s hand twitched towards Zephren, only for it to be pulled back as the siren decided instead to fold his arms firmly across his chest. When he spoke, he was gentle, asking, “You don’t remember how long you were there?” It was a relief to hear his sincerity.

Zeph swallowed hard, shaking his head as he confessed, “I know I’ve grown, and that I’m older. But, the lights never went out…so there were no markers to tell time, except the meals that were passed to me. Some days though, there was no food. I tried to keep track of time but…at some point it felt useless.” Feeling uncomfortable, Zephren tried not to let his thoughts linger on his words. He cleared his throat, unwanted visions of Desta flooding to his mind. “My sister is all grown up now. To be honest, I’d almost forgotten her.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister.” Rosakai shifted his boots in the sand, dark leather soles untouched by the gritty texture; not like Zephren’s bare feet.

Zephren shrugged. “Half sister. She’s my father’s daughter. I never met her mother. I think she died in childbirth… I’m not even sure if she knew I existed,” he said begrudgingly.

It was strange saying so many things out loud…voicing parts of his life that brought him anger and sorrow, as if the past was still clinging to him.

Rosakai hesitated, looking at Zephren carefully before he said, “You’re in your twenties. If I recall, your birthday is in midwinter, so I believe you’re nearly twenty-two.”

“You know my birthday…?” Zephren felt his heart skip a beat, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know me? You know who I am?”

Rosakai’s silver eyes reflected the dark waves, something striking in them; a haunting look. “We’ve never met... But I know a lot about you. Many people do…and many people want to find you.”

Zephren didn’t want to ask anymore questions about himself. He’d heard enough of the bitter truth, his father’s words still stinging him, and he simply didn’t want to think about it for a moment. “What time of year is it?” he asked, knowing it wasn’t what Rosakai would want to hear.

Sure enough, the siren looked taken aback and dejected, but he answered Zephren’s question all the same, “It’s the end of autumn. Almost winter now.”

“You don’t like this time of year?”

He looked at Zephren, stating, “I don’t like the cold. The winters are long this far north. We’ll probably get snow in the next few weeks.” It was an ironic statement as everything about the man seemed stoic and hard as if he were made of frosty ice. He glanced at Zeph’s clothing, murmuring softly, “You won’t be able to go outside in a t-shirt much longer,” he said, gesturing to the black shirt Zeph was wearing.

It was more like a dress on Zeph’s thin frame. Zeph touched it, feeling the soft material. “It’s so clean,” he found himself saying. He looked at his skin, realizing that the blood and soot had been washed off. “I’m clean…” He felt slightly embarrassed as he asked, “You bathed me?”

Rosakai shook his head, a small relief filling Zephren. “No. Star did, our physician. She bathed you and dressed your wounds. The shirt, however, is mine.” His eyes scanned Zephren, then abruptly looked away as he said, “We’ll look more thoroughly in the morning for something that fits better.”

Zephren looked down at his skeletal form, then up at Rosakai; he was muscular and tall and beautiful… There was something powerful and intimidating about him, nothing compared to the meek aura that Zephren exuded.

Rosakai cleared his throat, offering, “I’m sorry we had you in the basement. As we didn’t know who you were or if you could pose a threat to us, it was insisted and agreed it was the safest option. I hope you’re not offended.”

“I’m not offended…” Zephren couldn’t take his eyes off of Rosakai, recalling the arms that had reached around him in the courtyard of his burning house… They must have belonged to him. It made Zeph think of the conversation he’d avoided earlier, the questions nagging at his mind again. “You saved me and brought me here, with means you don’t yet feel comfortable to share… You were looking for me,” he whispered, questioning how the siren could have been there, could have found him.

Was Zephren even ready for the truth?

Rosakai sighed, agreeing, “Everyone’s looking for you. Few believe you still exist, and even fewer know your identity.”

Zephren felt sick as he stepped towards Rosakai, the wind sweeping through him to the bone. “Okay… Then, answer me one thing.”

“I’ll answer you anything.”

Zephren sucked in a deep breath, eyes locked with Rosakai’s as they held each other’s stare. “If you knew about me and were looking for me…why didn’t you come find me sooner?”