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Temenos plopped onto the bed with a long sigh. The group had made it to Merry Hills and decided to call it a day. Everybody headed to the tavern for drinks to wish Agnea luck at the Grand Gala. They arrived late at night, and townsfolk said the event wouldn’t be until the next day. The cleric told everybody he would return to the inn, much to their dismay, but they knew Temenos needed his time to ponder the mystery of the murders he’d been tracking.
The night was quiet and the sky was clear. The weather in the leaflands was always so calm and peaceful.
The door swung open, and Temenos wondered who it was. He debated to continue laying down but found it rude not to greet the person at the door, especially if it was one of his friends. Curious, he sat up and turned towards the door. It was Throné. She checked in with the innkeeper but he told her that her comrades had already reserved the place. She nodded once and headed towards a bed. She really needed the rest.
“I see the little fox is back from her adventure,” Temenos said. Throné only hummed in reply, not turning to face him. Strange, he thought. Had he done something wrong?
Throné may be a thief, known for their mischievous behavior, but deep down that’s not who she wanted to be. She had a kind heart and made an effort not to appear cold to others, not including her enemies. Throné would usually greet someone, especially Temenos.
She sank onto the edge of the bed with her back facing her friend. Temenos sat up fully to observe. Throné appeared to be… touching her face? Was that blood on her hands?
“Throné,” Temenos uttered cautiously. He stood up and approached the bed next to his.
“It’s nothing, detective,” she said, busying herself with the bottom of her robe. The cleric went and stood before her.
“Is something the matter?” he asked, reaching out a hand. Throné leaned away, her eyes to the ground.
“I said it’s nothing. Shouldn’t you be with the others?”
“Shouldn’t you be with the others?” he retorted. She remained quiet, and Temenos sat on the bed beside her. He noticed the blood on Throné’s hands and, though he was deeply concerned, tried to take an innocent approach.
“Mind telling me why there’s blood on your hands? If I remember correctly, you’re not a fan of the stench.”
“I…” Throné began, clenching her hands into fists. “There were cloaked figures lurking on the road, so I decided to see what they were up to. I spied from a tree and when I was sure they weren’t up to anything bad, I tried to get away but they blocked the way. Then we got into a fight and… I ended up killing one of them.”
Temenos could easily tell she was ashamed of herself. He remembered having a conversation with her about their pasts. She was raised to kill, even though she never wanted to. She was always being exposed to murderers, and was forced to become one herself. To Throné it was a normal concept for her, yet she hated it deeply.
“Throné….”
When she didn’t reply, Temenos pulled a handkerchief from his pocket.
“May I?” he asked, holding out his hand. Throné looked him in the eyes, startled yet not surprised. She reached out one of her hands, which he took and started wiping the blood away.
“You’re not the least bit… disturbed?” she asked quietly.
Temenos remained silent and continued to clean her hand. When he was done with one, he held out a hand for the other. More hesitantly did she reach out this time.
Wipe wipe.
“Disturbed, no,” Temenos said. “I may be a bit sorry for the unfortunate man, but I know you wouldn’t kill him if you didn’t have a justified reason.”
Throné gave no reply. She watched the cleric gently erasing the evidence of her recent killing. The blood got on his hands a bit, but he didn’t seem to mind. How was he not troubled that he was holding a pair of hands forever stained with death?
“And,” Temenos continued, “it’s what you’ve known your whole life. Childhood shapes the way a person thinks and acts. I know for a fact that you didn’t want to kill that man, but your past told you what the solution to the issue was. Knowing this about you, that fact doesn’t change how I see you.”
“You see me as a murderer.”
The thief could feel Temenos’s observant gaze. She didn’t know whether she loved or hated that look. She felt so exposed whenever he glanced at her.
“I see you as a kind person who is striving for a better life. And a person who helps others with their struggles. With all the recent happenings in the church, I’ve been quite the mad man. But you’ve managed to ease my troubles time and again.”
Temenos folded the now-red cloth into a square and set it on the table separating their beds. Throné looked down at her hands. There wasn’t a single speck of red on them. Not even a stain. It eased her guilty heart seeing the absence of blood on her hands.
“Thank you,” she said. She heard Temenos chuckle quietly.
“You’re welcome, but I’m not quite finished with your injuries yet.”
Throné looked up confusedly, then realized that her cheeks still stung. The thieves she encountered gave her countless scratches and cuts. She also realized her clothes were torn. Guess I’ll have to stitch these up again, she thought.
“Oh, I guess not,” she replied.
“Do you mind if I heal the cuts on your face?”
“Go ahead.”
Temenos scooted closer and cupped her face with his hands. Then he began to work his magic. Tiny sparkles of light emitted from his hands and traced the cuts on Throné’s face. She gasped a little at this new sensation. She couldn’t tell if it was the magic or Temenos’s hands that warmed her face like the morning sun. Experiencing a healing touch was surprisingly comforting to her.
Temenos laughed. No matter who he performed healing magic on, they were always intrigued by it. Even he himself found great comfort by the magic. Healing magic came from the element of light, so it was gentle and warm.
The light traced her wounds, then healed them as if they were never there. The glitter disappeared into the air once a cut was erased. Temenos let go of her face and cocked his head.
“All better?” he asked as if talking to a child.
“Please, I’m not five,” she replied. “But yeah…. Thanks.”
Temenos smiled. “I’m glad I could help.” He looked at the cloth on the table. He decided he would dispose of it later. It wasn’t an important object anyway.
“Um…”
Temenos turned back to Throné, who seemed a bit shy. Strange, he thought. He’d only seen the thief like this when she was caught trying to touch Ochette’s tail. He smiled at the memory. That conversation was entertaining to witness.
“Yes, Throné?”
Without a word, Throné took both of Temenos’s hands with her own and brought them to her cheeks. She held them there and closed her eyes. Temenos felt his ears warm slightly.
“Err, what’s on your mind?” he asked, flustered by Throné’s actions. Usually he did the teasing, but he doubted she was joking.
Her eyes remained closed as she took in the warmth of his gentle touch. “I’ve come across a few clerics in my life. Never have any of them been such a comfort.”
Temenos stared at her as he processed what she was saying.
Throné opened her eyes and glanced at him. She saw the confusion and continued. “I never received affection when I was younger, so I never felt like I needed it. But,” she closed her eyes once more, “this is nice.”
Temenos didn’t know what to say. All he felt was relief that he was able to help this lost soul in front of him. No, Throné wasn’t lost. She was on a journey fighting for something. She had friends by her side, and they were all there to help each other.
Temenos smiled warmly, hands still cupping her face. He didn’t realize he was subconsciously rubbing her cheek with his thumb. Throné didn’t pay mind either. She loved this moment. Nobody could ruin it, not even Temenos, as sly as he was. Never would she imagine that a simple touch would make her feel so safe and comforted.
-
“Aaaaand kiss,” Agnea whispered. She was crouched outside of the inn, peering through the window with Partitio.
The two were walking back from the tavern and Partitio was about to enter when Agnea grabbed his sleeve. He turned, confused when she waved him towards the window. He crouched beside her and peered through the foggy glass.
Temenos seemed to ask a question, to which Throné replied with a nod. Then Temenos gently grabbed her face, their faces inches apart. Partitio gasped and swatted Agnea’s arm excitedly.
“Holy smokes, what’s goin’ on with those two?’
Agnea squealed quietly with stars in her eyes. “Romance, obviously! Oh how excitin’!” She grinned mischievously at Partitio. “How much are you bettin’ that they’ll kiss in the next month?”
“A hundred leaves easily,” he grinned back. They laughed and decided to head to the tavern once more. They figured the detective and his little fox needed some more alone time