IVERAIN

Three days, that is how long it took for the ‘cold’ to finally break as Elias’ body was wrecked with tremors, and when it did, Iverain could not be any happier. Visibly he kept his stoic expression watching Elias nearly sweat through the third or was this the fourth set of sheets. Sliding his hand onto Elias’ forehead, the man lets out a low grumble making him smile softly the heat was still there making his forehead damp and his face flustered. But his breathing was more even, less wheezing. After a few long moments Elias stirred his aching limbs shifting under the damp sheet making his face scrunch up. Iverain pulled his hand away, watching as Elias’ eyes slowly opened.

        “Waking up now?” Iverain murmurs.

        “No…” He grumbles, an incoherent curse leaving his chapped lips his eyes screwing shut once more.

        Iverain shakes his head reaching over to the nightstand he grabs the damp towel from a small bowl of lukewarm water; he squeezes out the excess before placing it onto Elias’ forehead. Straightening his back, he adjusts the sheets once more before making his exit leaving Elias to sleep. Closing the door behind him as the bell downstairs chimed.

        Iverain moved swiftly down the hall as the soft clicking of nails against glass rang out. The tapping a familiar mix of impatient, agitated, and repetitive as Iverain reached the bottom of the stairs, his eyes spotting an older woman about mid-50’s, short black and grey peppered hair, her attire a plain beige trench coat and black dress pants.

        “Mrs. Stein, what an early morning.” Iverain spoke calmly as the woman’s sharp eyes glared into him.

        “Your book left again.” She snapped motioning towards the basket of returned books.

        “Well, Mrs. Stein, they do that.” He explained pulling the books from the basket and laying them out onto the glass counter. “How is young Arthur?”

        “Arthur’s fine, been running around Ohio last I heard with some older ex-Milita type.” Mrs. Stein explains with a wave of her hand. “Now… which one”— “AHHA!” She snatches a book off the counter with a sharp smile. “There we go, if I could get my usual extension.” She asks holding the book to her chest.

        “1 month is all I can give Mrs. Stein.” Iverain placed the other books back into the basket as his eyes slid back to Mrs. Stein who looked as though someone had just stepped on her foot.

        “1 month.” She mumbles eyeing the book for a second before sighing loudly. “Really now Iverain, is it because of the last book?”

        “Yes.” He snapped back. “I’m still rebuilding and re-inking the pages back from what you did.”

        “Shouldn’t you be done by now? It’s been over a year since that happened, and if I do remember I apologized for my son.” Placing a finger to her lips in mocking thought a familiar grin overtaking her face. “What happened to the new guy I heard you took on?”

        “Sick.” Fingers tightened on the spine, his eyes narrowed, eyebrows knitting together. “What’s your point?” Iverain grumbles.

        “Oh, nothing just thought you hired another slacker.” Her words stung him, his chest suddenly feeling far too tight in the suit as he placed the book down with a loud thud, making the trinkets and potions in the counter shake slightly.

        “Mrs. Stein.”

        “Yes?” She questioned with a bat of the eyes, in some vain attempt at innocents.

        “Get. Out.”

        With raised hands, Mrs. Stein steps back a smirk on her face as she walks to the door book in her right hand. Iverain watches her closely as she finally turns her back on him, her fingers grabbing the doorknob and opening it just a crack.

        “Bye-bye Iverain.” She shouts over her shoulder as she leaves. The bell receding her exit allowing the bookstore to fall into silence.

        Placing the book back gently he runs his hands over his face in frustration.

        “She seemed like a bitch…”

        Iverain nearly jumped from his skin as he whipped his head around. Finding Elias sitting on the stairs bundled in a thin sheet, his face was still pale, but some color had returned to his ears.

        “You shouldn’t be up.”

        “And miss you actually looking angry for once? No thanks. Besides I promised myself I would kick you for whatever the hell you made me drink.” Elias pushes off the stairs using the banister as balance.  “Which… don’t ever do that again.”

        Iverain moves forward one hand going to Elias back, the other grasping his shoulder.

“You shouldn’t be up.” He repeated ushering Elias back up the stairs. “Your fever just broke you don’t need to be moving around.” He continues pushing the door open and leading Elias towards the bed.

“I’m fine, a little dizzy but not as bad as I was the other day.”

“You weren’t even conscious the other day.” He grumbles gently pushing Elias back onto the bed.

“Well, that good sir, is wrong!” Elias blurts his voice, slurring slightly.

Iverain pulls the sheet from Elias’ body, dropping it onto the floor and fixing the pillow behind his head.

“Don’t move.” He keeps a hand on Elias’ chest in warning for a moment before moving across the room, grabbing the sheet off the floor and tossing it onto the banister which unceremoniously misses and disappears below. Iverain grumbles as he reaches Elias’ dresser, opening the bottom drawer he yanks out a silk sheet. Laying the sheet on Elias, he places the back of his hand on Elias’ forehead.

“I will physically fight you if you even think about it…” Elias mumbled his eyes barely staying open.

“Fine, fine. But tomorrow you’re taking the medicine.”

“Blah…” Elias babbles what seemed more to himself then to Iverain as he removes his hand.

        “Blah?” Iverain questions his head slightly tilted, “You truly need to sleep.” He mumbles fixing the sheet before sitting on the edge of the bed. “That bad weather finally took you down.” He continues patting Elias’ leg before getting up and walking out of the room leaving the door open.

        Heading downstairs he finds the sheet lying on the floor having knocked a book along with it. Walking closer he swipes up the sheet, the book giving a hefty thump before he could grab it off the floor. Eyeing the shelves he slots the book back into place before walking towards the far-right wall, opening a door he tosses the sheet inside, a low gargled sound threading through the air, the interior shifting slightly as he walks away.

        Halfway to the counter the sheet dropped onto his head making him jump.

        “REALLY NOW?!” He shouts into the air. “Couldn’t put it away yourself?!” He pulls the dry sheet off, folding it in his arms, and placing it on the counter. “I understand, but whatever you saw, I have yet to confirm. NOW do as your told and go put it up.” Iverain turns heading up the stairs, stopping only once at the midpoint to look down, finding the sheet gone, he nods and heads into his office.

        Stepping inside he closes the door with a hearty push the wood creaking as the lock popped into place.

        “So, ya going soft again old one?”

        Turning his gaze to the voice he spots a younger man, long platinum blonde hair threaded over his chair in eaves, a black suit under a red and black trench coat.

“Orion.” Iverain lets out the breath he was holding as he walks over to his desk. “What are you doing here? And how in the hell did you get into my office.” Walking around his desk, Orion gets to his feet the trench coat sliding down to his elbows as he walks around letting Iverain sit.

“Well, your silly charms aren’t that new my old friend. But you must answer me this.” Orion pauses silver eyes boring into Iverain’s. “Why take in another stray?”

“Trust me, if I knew I could tell you Orion. But”— Iverain cuts himself off leaning back in the chair thoughts swirling. Why had he taken such an interest in the young man? Was it because of them… did he feel bad for it. He looks to Orion who makes himself comfortable in the red leather. “Why are you here Orion?”

“I’m here to warn you, perhaps strike a deal if you catch my drift.” Orion shrugs, throwing his legs over the sides of the chair, his head thrown back on the other side.

“I thought you couldn’t anymore?”

Orion’s fingers grip the leather his gaze catching Iverain’s. Unblinking, unfazed.

“Don’t worry about it Iverain,” Orion sits up the air around him tense as he looks passed Iverain to the colored window. “The veil between our world and theirs is thinning Iverain, the days of magic are being torn apart at the seams. The Magistrate doesn’t know how long they will be able to hide the other world.”

“What does that have to do with me.” Iverain asks as Orion stood from the chair placing a badge on the desk before stepping out. Picking it up the badge is a rustic gold, the symbol of a raven holding an olive branch between its talons. Grumbling under his breath he places the badge in his desk before preparing inventory.