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The fire flickered and swayed and danced. Embers trickling up and cracking among the stars. Smoke ensnared his senses and sewed itself into his clothes. Roman shut his eyes. Words and voices swirling through his mind. Each one stung. Another prick of brambles in his throat. Another stab of ice through his chest. He folded in on himself.
No.
He opened his eyes. He took in a breath, focusing his gaze on the flickering fire.
“Where are you from?”
Roman jolted, glancing towards the fairy, “Sorry, what?”
Logan huffed a laugh, “Patton may be asleep, but I still have no intention of tricking or harming you. I meant it.”
He glanced over the small individual slowly before shaking his head, the reflection of golden light returning to his eyes, “Why does it matter?”
“Because you look-” Logan hummed, motioning as if trying to collect the word from the air, “lost.”
“Your friend dragged me out into a forest I hardly knew in the first place, you think I would know exactly where I am?”
“No-” Logan said, his voice now suddenly more sturdy and deep. Roman glanced over, jolting slightly as he found the winged being now a more human size. Logan looked back towards the fire himself, “I believe you knew I meant the, uh, emotional variation, of the word.”
Roman scoffed and glanced sideways towards the fairy, “I’m practically perfect,” he struck a smile, “in every way.”
Logan rolled his eyes in return, “You’re also not in- common attire, for the region at least, I suspect you come from some form of nobility?”
The smile fell. Roman shook his head. His gaze flickered towards the ground, grasping his shoulder, covering the patch on his shoulder. “Not anymore.”
“Ah,” Logan adjusted his glasses and glanced up at the sky. He seemed content to leave it on that. Roman let out a huff and looked to the stars himself.
They watched the twinkle of starlight, the crackling of the fire and the sway of wind in the leaves swirling around them. Calm. That’s what it was. The chill of the night mixed with the warms of the fire as a welcomed serenity.
“I would suggest you rest,” Logan said softly, “lest you plan on disrupting your usual patterns of alertness.”
“Don’t think I can.” Roman muttered, “Sleep, I mean.”
Logan glanced at him, brows furrowed. Roman stared up at the sky, eyes flickering over the stars, “I always found it amazing that there were stories in the sky,” Roman muttered.
Logan raised a brow, “Stories? I don’t believe I quite understand your meaning.”
A small smile stretched over Roman’s face, “The Constellations. They all have stories. I used to make my own constellations and stories for them. I’d poke holes into parchment so stars aligned with them and connect the dots. The staff hated it.”
He giggled and shook his head, “I’d make dragon-witches and knights, heroes and villains. My brother and I sometimes acted out stories together, we’d spar through the halls, but- neither of us ever really wanted to be the bad guy, so we’d always turn him good at the end-”
Roman laughed, but it took a bitter turn. “Never thought to do the opposite.”
Logan tilted his head. The silence was filled with the sounds of the forest. A song of nightlife commonly forgotten. Logan hummed, “Would you mind telling me one of the stories of your constellations?”
Roman giggled, “My constellations or actual constellations?”
“Whichever you feel most inclined to share,” Logan stated simply, wings fluttering slightly, almost like a shiver. A skeptical glance was given towards the fairy and Logan sighed, “I promise not to steal your story. You have my word.”
“No, I was wondering if you were cold,” Roman laughed. Logan straightened his posture, a bewildered sort of smile on his face. Giggles erupted from the human, a warmth of mirth crinkling into his eyes. He shook his head, actively attempting to suppress his outburst of giggles. He let out a calmed breath. “I appreciate the reassurance though.”
“Well, in that case- I’m warm enough.”
Roman smiled gently, nodding, “Alright. See those stars up there?” Roman began, pointing to the sky, tracing the night.