Chapter Text
When Sylveret came to, the first blurry thing in his field of view was hands-- his own hands-- soaked in fresh, wet blood.
He looked up, vision swimming, counting five bodies in the grass around him; Ezault, Hiroc, Idrinne, D'vul, Olina.
He knew without checking, from the severity of the blood across the ground, that they were gone, but he still stepped toward them, staring down with wide glowing eyes and balled up fists, waiting and watching for any sign of life.
His thoughts turned desperately as he counted the wounds-- scratches and gouges that could have only been made by the claws of an animal.
By HIS claws.
Just moments ago they were out wandering through the fields as the sun just began to set. Sylveret looked up at the star speckled sky, then back down to his friends. His excellent hearing picked up the cries of people looking for them, coming closer, his heart beat steadily increasing painfully in his chest.
Under the light of the moon multiple people crossed over the top of the hill. They stopped, silent, as if surveying the display before them.
Sylveret locked gazes with the glowing golden eyes of his mother.
Beside her was his impossibly tall father, who looked down at him with the type of dismay he would have never imagined from his gentle nature.
Zain sat up quickly in bed, holding his dizzy, sweat-soaked head with one hand.
He hesitantly opened his screwed shut eyes.
The sun shined through the inn's windows, illuminating the dust and dirt in the air. It was quiet, still early morning; nearby, Tivar was lazily doing up his hair, fresh out of a bath.
Tivar didn't look at him. "I won't make you work today," he said matter-of-fact. He adjusted his tunic and looped his belt over it. Zain grunted, staring ahead of himself. "I got some goods at the bakery, there's some for you too."
"I'm tired," Zain muttered. His throat was too dry.
"Then sleep."
"No. What are you doing today?"
"Well I'm taking you off work so I'm going to see if there's anything I can do instead." Satisfied, Tivar grabbed his staff. "Do whatever you want, just don't go making a huge scene."
Zain scoffed. "Why not?"
"The Scions could be your friends if you stopped yelling all the time and being weird and edgy." Tivar rolled his eyes. "I'll be back later."
After Tivar left, Zain sighed, hanging his head. He rubbed the bed sheet between two fingers as he tried to think, but flashes of that night filled his head, like they always did.
He didn't mean to.
He didn't know how it happened or why.
He probably never would.
Zain got out of bed on somewhat shaky legs, finding his footing soon enough. His first step of the day would be...
Well, he didn't know. He swallowed thickly, tossing his clothes on, and stumbling out the door.