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The summer rain brought a nice breeze with it, killing the heat that had been strangling the city of El for days. The wind was slowly rocking the hammock Briar was lying in, her eyes fixated on the path leading from her garden to the heart of the forest ; the smell of the rain and the grass meeting again muted the other scents, but she was almost certain there was someone in the forest.
Sleep was about to claim her when it came back again. A metallic scent - armor and sword. Her ears peaked up and she opened her eyes. No blood, but whoever that scent belonged to was near. Glass had also picked up the smell and was hiding in the tall grass, looking like nothing but a bush of roses to the careless eye. She had been warned about a mysterious and dark figure roaming the city of El lately, but hadn’t paid it mind, until now. Could that smell belong to that stranger?
She knew the inhabitants of El’s HQ well enough to be certain that this smell didn’t belong to any of them, not even Jamon. Oh, Jamon’s scent was way worse. Chrome smelled more like a dog and Karenn had no smell at all - perks of her vampiric condition. Valkyon’s scent was that of embers and sweat, and Leiftan distinctly smelled like the daemon he was, though Briar wasn’t sure anyone had picked that up by now. Her hand trailed against her throat, where the daemon once grabbed her just a few days after she’d arrived in the city, threatening her. Trading her life for his secrets ; it hadn’t seemed like a fair deal back then, and now she regretted ever agreeing to it, but life away from the HQ had made that pact a little more bearable.
How long had it been, now? How many months since Lance had left? Three, nearing four, if Briar recalled correctly. She’d seen Miiko’s red eyes a few more times since then, but the occurrences thinned. Valkyon had bottled everything inside him, and she wasn’t blaming him. How could she? After his disappearance, she had packed her bags and left to live here, deep in the forest of El, surrounded by hamadryads and whatnots. Her life inside the headquarters had been so bitter, so heartbreaking, at times. Do this, do that. Comments on her weight, comments on her height, comments on her race. Everyday, on and on. Her ideas on how to make life easier were thrown out the windows more times than not.
With a sigh, she stretched her arms and legs and got up, grabbing the pole arm that was resting against her shack’s wall. Glass quietly met with her and they walked down the pathway until they were in the forest again, the trees covering them from the sky and the rain like an overprotective, but welcome, parent.
— Hey. Show yourself. If you need something, get on with it, or get the hell out of here.
Life alone made you forget about politeness - she had tried, at first. She had tried to be nice and welcoming to the few visitors, but quickly realized that she was a prey. A woman alone in the woods — who could resist? She planted her pole arm in the wet ground and waited. The birds were chirping and the rain was ricocheting against the leaves, but other than that, not a sound was heard.
Until a laugh broke that quietness. It was clear and soft, even though she could discern a mocking tone - if that creep was trying to be intimidating, they failed.
— So that’s your hidden side…
Oh, that voice. Briar’s heart stopped, and her grip on the pole arm loosened. Without a noise, the weapon fell on the ground, but she didn’t bother to try and grab it again. She wouldn’t need it.
Or would she?
— Lance, she whispered, not quite believing her own voice.
— Don’t move, he warned, the softness in his voice gone, met with a more threatening tone.
One she’d heard every now and then, but never thought he would use against her. Was that feeling sadness? Surely, her heart shouldn’t ache like that, not when she was almost finally comfortable with the idea that she would never see him again, not anytime soon.
And there he was, in her back. Was it her imagination playing tricks on her? She had believed Lance to be alive for so long, but being alone in that dream, she had stopped looking for clues. Closure would never be given to her, it seemed — and yet.
— Lance, I…
She what? She just wanted his name on her lips again, nothing more. She wanted a reason to say that name — and here it was. Here he was.
— I’m gonna move, she retorted, her mind made up.
But she wasn’t. Not anymore, not with those arms wrapped around her waist, stopping her from doing anything. She closed her eyes and savored the moment, even though she shouldn’t — she couldn’t help it. It felt good. It felt right. Her hands clasped around his forearms, digging into the armor he was wearing. So he was that masked person after all. Did she care? At that moment, she didn’t.
— You can try.
Snark, insolence — she had missed that, she had. And was it the rain that dripped down her cheeks, or her own tears? Lance held her tighter, so tight that she could barely breathe, choking her sobs in his usual fashion.
— Why?
Why did he have to leave? Why did he not even let a hint behind him? A letter, a few words— anything, anything. She would have taken anything. Lance pressed his head against hers, the cold metal plate of the armor kissing her burning cheek. She glanced towards her cabin, wishing she could drag him there, but she knew he wouldn’t move from where they stood, knew he wouldn’t follow her.
— Because…
The words died on his lips and she turned around to look at him. His helmet didn’t betray anything ; not even his eyes were visible, and she wanted nothing more but to remove it just so she could look at his face one more time. He wouldn’t have that, of course — but the want still lingered. With a sigh, she let her head fall against his shoulder. There was nothing to be done. She knew Lance, and she knew that once he had set his mind on something, nothing, no one, could sway him.
— You’ll see soon enough. But you can’t trust the guard. Don’t say a word about me to them.
She couldn’t hide the sour chuckle that escaped her.
— Have you seen the way they treat me? How could I trust them? How could I…
It wasn’t their fault. They were wary, and scared, and they had lost so much already, and every day, more flocks of refugees would come knocking at their door. But did that give them a right to treat her like she was a disposable tool?
Her hands were shaking now, even scratching Lance’s armor. The labor that came with living alone in the forest usually took care of her claws for her, but it seemed that they had grown a bit longer without her noticing, and she let go of his arms silently. Would Lance make a joke about it? Would he get mad? He wasn’t like this, back then — but that was the thing. Back then. He didn’t seem much different, but still. He was colder. Sharper. Like a deadly sword that had finally been unsheathed, and she was worried about it. About him.
— I know, he whispered, pain obviously gripping his voice even though he was trying so hard to hide it. I know. I know they hurt you. This is the only thing they seem able to do…
His words were definite, like a sentence he had deemed on them for a reason Briar wasn’t aware of. What happened? Lance had a sweet soul, tender and warm, and never in her three years working with him had she saw him so broody and on edge. Did he, too, have a hidden side, something dark and ugly that would only rise under the heel of injustice? She closed her eyes and settled more comfortably into his embrace, unsure of what would happen next.
— I trust you, Lance.
Always have. Always will. But they both knew that ; there was no need to say it out loud.
— Good, he replied.
His hold on her softened until she was able to move and she couldn’t feel his arms around her, and it felt like he ripped something from her. Stupid, of course, because they were never together. Shared a kiss or two, and some more hugs, but he wasn’t oblivious and neither was she. She picked up her pole arm and held it against her, her forehead resting against the cold metal.
— You still have that, Lance remarked, surprise peeking in his voice.
A smile curled her lips and she sighed ; of course, she still had that. For the love of everything — it was a gift from him. Not the most romantic one, or the most meaningful, but she had such fond memories of them strolling the markets that day. When she had that pole arm with her, it felt like he was still with her, too.
— I couldn’t keep anything from your room.
— Nothing at all?
Again, he seemed surprised. Had he meant for her to find something, to have something to remember him by? Or had he expected her and Valkyon to share most of his belongings? His brother knew well enough they were close, but Valkyon hadn’t asked her.
Now that Lance had mentioned it, she wasn’t sure Valkyon even stepped into his room. Maybe he never went in. Maybe he just let a few handymen sort out and pack Lance’s belongings and that was it. Forgotten forever, hidden in a deep corner in the cave, if they hadn’t got rid of them entirely.
She shook her head. There was nothing else to say.
— I see.
Nothing, then. She half expected that, to be honest. She wiped her tears from her eyes and turned around to look at him one last time ; he was only a few meters away from her but he already seemed so far.
So lost.
She wanted to reach out for him so badly. To feel his fingertips against hers once more, to guide him towards a more peaceful path. She didn’t know what Lance wanted, or what he had planned, but she could feel something had broke inside him, snapped abruptly. Shattered, even.
— Well. I guess I’ll see you around.
What a pathetic thing to say — I’ll see you around. She wasn’t even certain of that. And she wasn’t acting like she was. She was admiring him ; his height, his body, his armor, like she would never see him again. The sword strapped against his back, so big yet looking so tiny next to him. His hands in his back, the way he stood. His pride, his secrets. Everything that he never showed to her, or to anyone.
— If you need anything…
He turned to look at her shack, but with the rain it was now mostly hidden by the fog. The path that led to it had disappeared into the clouds ; it seemed like it never wanted to be found.
So did Lance.
But she loved him too much to give up on him. Calling Glass to her side, she made her way back to her cabin, only looking over her shoulder once. But already, Lance had vanished, leaving nothing behind, not even footsteps or a glint of black between the trees.
Gone again, like a ghost who might never have existed.