Chapter Text
Blood. Violence. Reputation.
That's all that Telamon really cared for, since the beginning of time. A deity, a creation of violence, filled with violence and control, the thrill of endanger running in his blood, it was really all he could ever imagine. All he actually cared for. It was his duty, it was his destiny, it was all he was created for.
He cared for control, for ruling, for setting ground rules everywhere.
And, thus, he was feared by many.
But not everyone would consider themselves such cowards in the eyes of the Admins. Watchful eyes, judgmental gazes everywhere, not many had the guts to get out of the crowds. But a few did, and they didn’t really care about the others' opinions. After all, opinions are just a reflection of their thoughts, and others’ thoughts are not one’s reality.
“Telamon,” Builder warned the deity, who was standing on the edge of a large boulder, feeling the breeze flow through his feathers and on his skin. The sky had this orange tint, and the ground below looked almost red, clearly an unfinished project of his. “You need teamwork. You can’t do everything all by yourself.”
But he did. He could.
For he had built the Heights, his kingdom, his perfection, the light of his eyes, the soul of his body, the goal of his existence. But perfection is only theoretical, existent only in one’s eyes, for it had its flaws. It always had them, but the deity was in denial.
After all, he would never present himself as a wrongdoer in the eyes of the others.
“The deity does not need any help. He is capable enough by himself.” He scoffed, furrowing his eyebrows as he turned around, not believing that the other saw him like that. Why would a close friend of his doubt his skills?
And why him, out of everyone?
His sight had done him wrong.
There was a rather serene moment between them, which lasted for agonizingly long, stretched to its limits, and it all came down to Builder not knowing what to say.
He thought of him as more clever than he actually was, but it was wrong, apparently.
And the man in front of him didn’t seem to see through this thin blanket on his eyes, this transparent curtain between them and the world, this dark fog within his mind had taken its space for logical thought.
“Your egoism is going to cost you everything.” Said Builder after saying nothing for a long moment, watching the others’ movements. But really, the other was rather expressionless, standing still like a statue, because he knew that the man in front of him was scanning him, judging him deep within his thoughts.
Foolish. How foolish.
“The only egoism I want is the kind where I better myself.” Telamon reached forward, resting his hand on the other’s shoulder. “If anything, you should act more like me, Builder. Our reputation, our status, needs it. And you know it very well.”
Builder backed away from him, shocked by how the other approached him. He hadn’t calculated this at all. “I’m not saying that it is bad. I’m saying that it needs to have no mistakes. Needs to function flawlessly. Perfection is what I am asking you to do. And such perfectionism comes with teamwork, which you do not have.”
The deity gritted his teeth.
“It is already perfect.” The deity said quickly, agitated by how stubborn the other was on all of this perfection stuff, the halo on top of his head giving it away, shining brighter than the stars above the darkest night sky. “You just don’t see my vision!”
Nothing helps, thus I must help myself, for no one is coming for me.
The show in front of Builder didn’t impress him at all. No reaction came out of him.
But rather a silent conclusion, that if he didn’t fail miserably, then he would never understand why he is so persistent in this. But even though he wished he would fail so miserably to understand what he wanted to say, the risk was too high for any of this. He couldn’t waste anything; time was precious.
“Your vision better impress me, then.” Builder spawned a portal rather quickly, this viewport frame that altered realities faster than the speed of light, and stepped on it before vanishing in thin air, tiny, glowing particles of zeros and ones left behind for a rather short time, then disappearing, as if he was never there.
The deity was left there, agitated, hanging on, his wings flapping a bit, just to simply move, his feathers raised upwards. His breath had become raggy, too loud, too annoying, as he looked into his hands, processing what had just happened.
He felt regret. He felt remorse for acting like that.
But then he shook his head and turned around to take a look into the empty space in front of him. As if he were reflecting on the other’s words and his own actions.
Why did I get so triggered?
What explosion happened inside me for me to feel this rage?
-——-
Forging was something that the deity had his fair share of his time with trials and errors. He had a dream, an imagination, and he wanted to make it a reality sooner or later. Because if there is a will, there will always be a way through the hardships.
But his perfection felt too stoppable, holding him back, anchoring him in one place, watching the others move forward with their own stuff as he was being held in one place, not moving, not improving.
Too short, too tall, too ugly.
Not thin enough, not sharp enough, not good enough.
And it was starting to piss him off more than he had thought, fury flowing through his veins. It was making him insane, the gears inside his mind grinding against each other, producing heat that only worsened his state of mind. How could he not make something good for himself. How could the others do better than him?
What did he not have that the others had?
Will? Power? Imagination?
No, he had all of them, but it was simply not good enough.
It never felt like it was good enough.
For I am a tool that sharpens itself.
I am in no need of others.
His hands had blackened, calloused, even, burned, it looked like his hands felt nothing. His nerves had been burned from the number of errors he had made. Parts of his soul felt drained, shattered from how fragile his ego had become after so many fails.
And he didn't want to admit it, but it started to hurt after a while, to the point that he had to consult with the mage for healing.
And so he did. His friend had been waiting for him, patiently.
“Healing is a long, calm process that takes its time. Patience runs in the core of its magic, and you cannot rush it.” Dusekk splattered a potion on the deity’s hands, a liquid cold as ice washing over the wound. “Tell me, what is it that got your hands so damaged? Is there something that troubles your conscience, my friend?”
Telamon was looking at his hands, and how the potions made him feel better. He could feel his hands get colder, lighter, the magic of the potion doing its job very well.
He didn’t want to speak, but his conscience said otherwise. His fate had planned otherwise, and you can’t change what has already been written by a stronger force.
“Honestly…” He spoke, rather silently. Something out of his character, because he was acting so. “It feels like I am not good enough for what I am doing.”
Dusekk brought a chair close to him and sat down, feeling like this conversation needed more of his attention, as if it wasn't a simple confession. “Your will shines bright, my dear friend. Your willpower is not like I have seen before, it’s full of ideas, filled with imagination, but it looks like there is more than that that you haven’t noticed yet.”
Dusekk reached for his staff, and pointed the tip straight at his heart. “May I?” But noticing how the other opened his eyes wide, he assured him of no harm. “Do not fret, for I am simply trying to guide you through this process. No harm shall I spell upon you.”
The opal on his staff shone bright, this deep blueish-greenish tint coming out of it, as it surrounded the deity like a magical rope. He felt calm, too relaxed; his magic had managed to get through his invisible shield, his protection from the outside world.
“I think…” The mage finally spoke, before pulling the staff away from the other’s heart. “I think I have found the problem. Or at least one of your major drawbacks.”
“What is it?” The deity tilted his head, curious.
“You need to let go of your selfishness, dear friend. Such negative feelings are holding you back strongly.”
It felt like a stab through his heart. Like a wound so deep it drained all of the blood from its body. Like an iron fist had managed to pluck his heart out.
“Is there anything wrong?” Dusekk scanned the other, observing how the other was acting. He felt uncomfortable, probably because he didn’t like what he pointed out. But truth hurts.
Better getting hurt by the harsh truth than getting comfortable in the sweetest lie.
The deity clutched his fist, feeling a little better, physically. “Is it really necessary?” The deity groaned, rolling his eyes.
He would never stoop so low and actually work with others.
Unfathomable. This cannot be it.
“It’s your choice. Not mine.” Dusekk went towards the window and opened it, letting the cold breeze travel through the room. “Although, I suggest doing so. Even the strongest armour cannot protect a wounded heart.”
---
He felt too soft. Too fragile.
Like his divinity had been damaged beyond repair.
But he had to do so. He had to actually go and socialize with the others. Talk to them, be cooperative with them, and share their opinions.
But who am I kidding? Telamon would never. Old habits die hard, and he was a living example of all of this.
But Builder was watching all of this unfold in front of him, and he was in for a good show. Because not every time do you see someone break his character this badly for something of his own good. Not everyone challenges themselves this way for their own gain. But he had done so, and he would get the most out of it.
So what did he do?
He made sure the deity was going to abide by his rules, in one way or another.
And paired him with someone who matched his exact behaviour.
———
The stars up above had aligned in such a mysterious way.
She slammed the door open, pushing it away with her leg as both of her hands were holding piles of paper, then slammed it back shut in the same way and force. Then she threw the documents on the desk, surprisingly, the pile of paper didn't seem to collapse, and fixed her glasses.
The deity's mouth was left agape. Clearly, one hell of an entrance, and surely one hell of a first impression too.
The deity was left too stunned to speak.
“So,” She cracked her fingers before grabbing the first document on the pile, not wasting any second. “They told me you needed some help with building? I got ‘ya, don’t worry.”
Not a single word left his mouth, not a single other movement left his body. Too shocked from all of this, or rather baffled by how unbothered the woman really was, by how casual she really seemed, he tracked her down. Her movements, her expressions, even the way she looked.
Like the lights of Heaven had fallen upon her.
“Hello?! Are you there?” She tapped the table, which made him snap out of this state, shaking his head a bit. “Oh thank God, I thought you were sleeping with your eyes open.”
Such words rather sparked curiosity within the other, as such behaviour wasn’t really common.
“I wasn’t sleeping.” He scoffed, crossing his arms and laid back.“Even if I was, it's not… good to wake someone up.”
“We’re at work.” The woman tilted her head, held aback by how cocky the other was. Not like she wasn’t any different. “That's the bare minimum.”
The emphasis on the word ‘work’ made the deity realise that he wasn’t actually alone in all of this, even though he was alone in the room.
Watchful eyes were everywhere, but he liked the attention.
He looked at the woman in front of him, really looked at the woman, and noticed that she was going to be quite a bother to his tranquility. But he didn’t seem to mind, after all, not always do you get someone who has the guts to actually bite back like that.
A match made in heaven, after all.
“You’re looking at me as if you’re seeing an alien.” She snapped him out of his thoughts again, snapping her fingers in his face.
“Well…” He, not knowing what to say to that, threw in some random words, in hopes that something would come out. “You seem different. Weirdly different.”
“I am creative.” She fixed her glasses again. “Besides, they chose me to help you with this, and I had to agree. After all, I don't think you’ll kill me.” She grabbed another paper from the pile, looking through both of them side by side, as if comparing them.
“The most I can do is throw you to the Banlands.” He shrugged, forgetting the important detail that she just spilled. “I don’t bother myself with such stuff.”
She stopped her movements, looked up from the papers to look at his eyes, then took off her glasses, pointing at him while holding them. “The audacity! Acting as if I wouldn't drag you there with me, too.”
Yep, she was different.
Feeling too bothered by that stare, something unexpected, new, he looked at the window next to him, trying to process what was happening. The deity didn’t know why he felt so, why so suddenly; something had switched inside of him, and he didn’t like it at all.
None of your trickery shall soften me. For I am the violence himself.
But the other didn’t let him do so. She didn’t like that he was trying to think of something else, maybe a distraction from important matters, a sharp calculation happening within his mind that she could not access.
Living in ignorance was a pillar she swore to break.
“Hey, look at me!”
He trailed his eyes back at her, a judgeful gaze landing on her. Who was she? What did she want? And why so persistent, why so afraid of being mentally left alone for a second?
Why was he caring about her?
“What do you want?” Telamon bluntly said.
“Playing hard to get, huh?” She raised an eyebrow, then leaned forward, her hands on the table. “I like playing these games; it feels more enjoyable.”
Shock painted his face rather quickly.
He got up on his feet, feeling his face warm from how bold the girl seemed, agitation building inside of him, feathers rising. “Boldness is something I do not enjoy much.”
That came more as a threat, which the woman in front of him ignored.
She scoffed. “I’ll make you enjoy it, not like you're getting rid of me anytime soon.”
Seems like this is going to be a hassle.
A game that shall be played fairly by both sides, fighting fire with gasoline.
He smirked, liking how challenging this felt. Liking how thrilling this felt. Different, new, something that broke the monotony of this place, something that broke the static routine of his.
“So, do you want anything?”
“Well…” she backed away, as if she was bracing herself for something yet to come. “Full access to your realm would be nice.”
He furrowed his eyebrows, shaking his head. Out of all things he had thought, this was the least.
She had a powerful man in front of her, all she could ask for, he would give it to her, after a long series of deep thoughts. But this?
“That’s confidential information; only special people have access.”
She gasped, dramatically, in order to annoy the other. Which in fact, did.
“Aren’t I special to you?”
You?
You're going to be the death of me.
He avoided answering that question entirely, not knowing what to say. Even if he did, she would twist it on her behalf, judging from her actions. “You need to earn it.”
You're not slick.
She watched the other, carefully, inspecting his movements. The way he tried to act solemn, but his bodily response gave it all away. How he was trying to think of something, yet nothing would come out.
It was rather an enjoyable experience.
“Isn’t the pile of documents on the desk enough for you?” She pointed with both of her hands at it, annoyed.
He chuckled. “No.”
——
The following days that he was forced to share with the others firstly seemed no different, papers, inspections, the usual stuff that they had ordered him to do; but the deity knew that deep inside of him something had changed.
Something he could not point his finger on.
But what he could blame was how the gaze of her followed him around.
They would stand in groups, whispering information to each other, murmuring, chatting unimportant thoughts here and there. Sometimes around a table filled with documents and pens, sometimes sitting next to each other.
But always in groups, never alone.
He was used to their looks, and he wasn’t bothered by their secret judgments, unsaid thoughts.
But hers? It felt different, sharp looks that sting like many tiny nails at the same time, boiling hot water thrown over him, a thousand slashes on his back.
It was eating him alive. But how come he was feeling so?
Snap out of it!
They would laugh at each other’s jokes, and he would grind his teeth every time he heard her laugh out loud. He would pass the group every now and then, as he moved frequently around, not liking staying in one place.
He felt jealous, blood getting hotter. He gripped the hood of the robe and pulled it down, trying to hide his face within the shadows.
Look at me, not them!
Tell me that you don't like what you see!
But he shook his head, trying to get his mind off these thoughts.
You’re a vicious man, not filled with such pathetic emotions.
The place felt silent, too silent for how crowded the place was. Not a chirp, not a footstep heard beside his, doors all closed. The only thing following him, or rather present with him was the golden particles he left behind while moving.
And the quiet, watchful eyes of Bright.
“Hi!” To say that he twitched, would be an understatement, as he hadn't expected anyone to come this close this silently. He was within his own peace, within his mind. “Are you alone?”
But all things considered, she was a cat. And he was a bird. They were like a magnet to a metal.
“I don’t wish for you to be this silent next time.” He continued walking, not bothered by how the other followed him right away. But he did walk slowly for her to catch up.
But deep inside of him, he liked the attention.
“You were almost floating around, silent. You can’t tell me to be so when you’re doing so yourself.” She shot back right away, almost hissing.
He bit his tongue, trying to hold back words he would regret saying, because she was right. He was silently walking around, looking.
“Floating around is more divine, more elegant of mine.” He smiled, feeling prideful of himself. “Besides, you don’t need to be jealous.”
That’s my job.
“I am not.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “I don’t feel jealous of a lonely man.”
“Sure thing.” He smiled very faintly, not giving the impression that he was enjoying this moment.
Bright reached for his arm and grabbed it, almost clawing, stopping him mid-track. “Are-”
The sudden touch made his arm twitch involuntarily, uncontrollably, as his hand turned into a fist, nails digging inside his palm, almost bleeding.
He pulled his arm closer to him, pulling her closer to him too.
“Don’t touch me!” That felt like it came out of his soul, as his anger trailed to his words, echoing through the walls, the halo on top of his head shone bright red. But more than anger, he felt shocked, unguarded. The way she attempted to grab him was new, an undiscovered feeling filled his soul.
And the unknown means danger.
The woman was left stunned, shocked from how fast he switched from being silent to yelling out loud.
For a split second, she looked at the other, searching for anger, violence, something that justified this instant crash out.
But she saw regret. She saw something resembling fear.
Fear? A creature filled with violence knows fear?
“Well, don't yell at me!” With no second thought, she bit back right away, yelling at the other the same way he did to her, pushing him away. Who was he to act like that? She was no ordinary woman.
Channel your anger all you want, in the end, I am the one who will win.
For a second, they locked eyes, rage filling the room; the intensity of the stare was intoxicating, drowning; they were drowning within each other’s anger, such rage filling their bodies, twisted thoughts in the back of their minds.
But it all came down to just yelling nonsense, chanting words that would not be taken back.
“Don’t invade my privacy!” Every nerve of his screamed violently, vicious words deep in his consciousness. Protecting himself from stranger danger. He warned her, himself backing away involuntarily, afraid of hurting her.
“Your privacy?” She walked closer, not liking what the other was doing. Then grabbed the collar of the other's robe and pulled him down to her eye level. “You don’t get to say that when you’re doing the same.”
She knew. She always knew.
She knew he would search for her in a group of people, even if he didn’t admit.
“Get your hands off my robe.” He snarled at her, but Bright did not care. She knew he wouldn’t hurt her.
“And what will you do about it? Murder me in broad daylight?” She tilted her head, the grip tightening.
He grit his teeth, trying to look as bothersome to the other, in hopes that she would back away, but she wasn’t.
Don’t look at me like that.
He grabbed her by her chin, lightly, and forced her to look up at him.
“Maybe. Maybe not.” He looked at the scarf around her neck, the sides of it shining the colors of the rainbow, as if it was trying to tell something. The colors of it calmed his mind a bit, pushing his aggressiveness further back. “Maybe I would enjoy it, maybe I wouldn’t.” He shrugged as he pushed her slightly away.
A sense of dread filled the hearts of both of them. Emptiness grew within their souls once they parted.
They stared at each other in silence for a few seconds, stretching it beyond its limits. But time has no limits; it is simply a projection of the human mind, translated into mere numbers.
“Your personality is rather… amusing, enjoyable, even.”
She smirked. “Don’t you like it?”
“No.”
“A shame, really.” She turned around. “That you don’t know how to lie properly.”
A door slammed open, shaking the frames that hung on the wall.
“You two!” A hoarse voice came through. “You’re fighting like children. Stop it!”
They were indeed acting like they were so.
—-
Melt the metal, then hit it to shape it as he desired it to look. An action full of trials and errors, blood and sweat.
But it didn’t take too long for the deity to create his first perfection, the Linked Sword. Not too useless, not too extravagant, perfect for its job and for the first sword. And Telamon felt prideful, rather amused by his creation, especially after so many errors. He couldn’t take his eyes off the tool, couldn’t wipe off his smile from his face.
It was his first step to greatness.
And so he gave the sword its perks and its job, and attached a copy of it to the starter place, holding the original on its special stand in his place as a relic, a proof of his perfection becoming reality.
And one by one, he had created his collection, the swords, parts of his soul, of his body, of his mind, of his everything. He kept all of them in a room, he made them a home, safe from the eyes of the others, as relics in a room.
But it felt as if something was missing.
Then he attached each and every one of them a soul, guardians of the place, a manifestation of his greatness.
But with no ground to stand, there is no point in having tools to fight, so the deity got to work to build a very basic field in the skies, not permanent, but good enough to do its job.
So he got to work, building the areas up in the skies, floating in the middle of nowhere. A portal, a loading place, and the main areas. Then the checkpoints, the stands of the swords, and a few extra abilities.
The prototype felt perfect. A dream come true.
And he was willing to make all of it better, a presentation of his work, of his will, of his soul. And he took his time, doing everything slowly.
For the heavens above me, my perfection doesn't need any explanation.
And sometimes there were visitors, watching the deity do its job, building the place from the ground up. Sometimes in groups, sometimes alone, they all could only watch the place from far away, because the deity felt too bothered when they all watched and commented on his work next to him, but also too prideful when they looked.
Not all companions were bad; some were special.
The souls of the swords would usually come and visit him, just standing and watching. They were still learning, still processing everything, and this was part of their learning.
Some were too silent, some were too expressive, but in the end, they were watching their realm, the place they were created to protect, a part of their destiny being built in front of them
Some were more special, like her.
“This place looks like it's being baked inside an oven.” Bright said as she loomed over the deity, who was completely immersed inside his GUi, not even noticing her being so close to him. “Does it really need to be this red?”
Seeing how the deity did not react at all, she sat next to him, a leg folded, supporting her arm, and the other on the ground.
“Hello?! You there or not?!”
He turned his head a bit for a split moment, then again fully as he saw the woman next to him, and practically jumped as he flinched.
“H-how did you get in here?!” His voice seemed to almost break from the shock, but he managed not to do so; it would be too embarrassing if it became true. Not that he was scared, there was no reason to be so.
He was more shocked that she was here.
“I have my ways.” She chuckled before leaning towards him, looking at the panel. “What are you doing?”
Within the blink of an eye, his panel vanished. He didn’t quite like people who snooped like that. “Stuff. Important stuff.” The deity then looked at the woman, eyes dull from being tired by all of the work.
“As in like…?”
“You’re asking too many questions.” He attempted to get up on his feet to move around, stretch his wings, but mostly because that closeness felt too bothersome for his personal space, he wasn’t used to such affection, at least by others. He wasn’t complaining, though. Hers felt different, overwhelming, but different.
But she pulled him back down, not liking how he was avoiding her.
“You don't get to avoid me. Not anymore.” She hissed at him, but the other stayed silent, observing her.
And sat down.
“Can’t a man focus for a moment?” He groaned, rolling his eyes.
“No.” She said bluntly. “I was asking you a question. I was talking to you. What's more important than that?”
Eyes opened, he was caught like a fly on a web, as his hands froze in place, processing the words.
You.
For a moment he stood like that, as if realisation hit him hard, then turned his head to the other direction, defeated.
Got ya.
He let out a breath, a loud one, in annoyance. He could feel the smirk on the other’s face.
“What do you want?”
“Why’s the place so red? Doesn’t it burn your eyes just watching?” She tilted her head, exchanging looks between the place and him, trying to connect the dots on what he was trying to achieve.
“Its the place of the Firebrand.”
She looked at the floating place, and didn’t know whether to tell him that it was too blunt or too ugly. After all, he clearly had no sense when it came to building and colouring, too. Not mentioning that it felt like a recolor of the starting place.
“You know…” she inhaled sharply, trying to soften what she was about to say. “It looks…”
“Ugly?” He finished her sentence, figuring out that she clearly did not like what he had done.
“Yeah…” she exhaled.
“You’re so easy to read.” He chuckled, a moment of silence following right after, filling the void. Her eyes were everywhere sight could land on, the place, the sky, the ground, and him, too.
The place felt empty, dusty, soulless, suffocating, it was a work in progress after all, and couldn’t understand why he was so set on needing no help from the others.
Egoism had plagued his heart.
He, meanwhile, was still processing the fact that she found a way to brute force herself in. Because if she did so, what stopped the others from doing so too? It felt bothersome, annoying, as he had to deal with fixing the security breach on top of everything.
After a while, he spawned the panel once again and almost shoved it to her, gently, he didn’t want to break it. “Here. Do whatever you want.”
She raised her eyebrows in shock and took off her glasses. Why the switch so suddenly? “Can’t you just give me access?”
“No.” He said bluntly as he lent the GUi to her. “You still found your way in. There’s no point in doing so.”
“But-” she was shocked by all of this, because in reality, it did not make any sense.
Naturally, no one would give something so personal away like that in any scenario. So what was up with him? Wasn’t he thinking properly? Not like she was any danger.
“No buts, ifs or ors.” He furrowed his eyebrows. “And no second chances.”
She reached for the panel, feeling like she was being stared at as if she were prey. But he didn’t mean it like that, whatsoever.
An idea got to her mind, her smirk giving it away.
“What if I steal it and block your-” she joked, but the look on the other's face didn't seem to take it lightly. And the halo on top of his head shone bright, letting out fire particles.
“You don’t want to see that side of mine.” He warned the woman, and she knew and understood it, but wanted to test the nonexistent waters up in the skies further.
As they say, go big or go home, right?
“What if I do?” She tilted her head, and as much as it made the other pissed, he knew that she was playing with him, disturbing the tranquil waters.
The brightness of the halo seemed to fade as the particles disappeared.
So he laughed, the kind of laugh which means ‘you're being annoying, but I enjoy it’, and pulled her closer by his wing, covering her like a blanket made of feathers.
“You’re one hell of a woman.” His heart warmed a bit as he leaned his head on hers, feeling the moment.
It was out of his character to feel this attached, but at this point, he did not care. This was in between them.
Her eyes widened. “What are you doing?” But the man didn’t answer; there was no need to do so. They both knew the answer, anyway.
Thoughts unwritten, shared emotions, yet both of them were too stubborn to admit it, even if partially.
They stood like that for a while, silently, watching the place in front of them.
“You’re so weird sometimes.”
“You brute forced your way in.” He replied.
“I had to do something. You weren’t going to share access anyway.”
“To whom did you even go?” Telamon was genuinely curious about it, as shown by the tone of the question.
But it was confidential information; Bright knew that if the second word got out, the deity wouldn’t let it slide. The person in question was going to get hunted down.
“I found my way in.” She lied. “Trials and errors, and a few observations here and there.”
Liar!
He knew that was a lie, but let it slide, as he would deal with it later. “You watched me work?”
“I have always been.” She didn’t really think much of that thought, as the realisation hit her after she said it.
“Hmm… stalking me from afar?” He felt himself smile uncontrollably at this. If he had known that such attention was on him, he would’ve done a better show.
Anything for such eyes to land on him.
“No.” She lied. She had been watching him for quite a long time. An old habit of hers. “You’re not that important.”
“But you’re here with me.” He chuckled. “Found your way in here. That sounds like dedication to me.”
“I'm just doing my work.” She rolled her eyes.
“Sure thing…” he whispered, clearly not buying her justification. “So, what’s up with you and the dislike of my builds?” He switched the topic rather quickly.
“What are you even building?” She went through the workplace, checking everything. Meanwhile, the other looked at her.
“A place for sword fighting.”
“Ooh.” That came instinctively, as she herself hadn’t realised she said that until she saw the other’s shocked face. “Didn’t think you were a swordsman.”
“I am rather satisfied with such activities. So much that I have a collection of my own.” He enjoyed the show he was putting on for himself, feeling proud of his achievements.
“Really?!” The excitement in her voice made the other smile. “How didn't I know about this?”
“Seems like a stalking job done wrong.” He chuckled, surprised by how she didn’t know, since everyone knew about the swords. “I’ve spent so much time crafting them.”
“I'm not an obsessed stalker, I don’t spend that much of my time looking at others.” She rolled her eyes, then searched for tools in the game files, feeling the intense gaze of the other on her.
But for you that’s different…
“I can show them to you later, if you want.” The offer was tempting; she felt like a curious child more than anything, as she turned her head to look at him.
“I'd like to.”