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❝You're not taking me to bed. Ever.❞
❝...Who said it had to be on a bed?❞
A disgraced immortal and a legendary folk hero are desperate to locate a blacksmith who can break the enchanted handcuffs that...
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The assassin's map, upon further inspection, was a clue in itself. Though folded in upon itself numerous times, the assassin's handwriting and notes were legible and extensive. The work of a man with ample time and practice and confidence. Exactly what Xosa lacked.
The assassin drew a large "X" on a tiny colony a scant few miles from their current location, and it was as good a lead as any for their next move.
Though Sunkanmi wasn't sure if that meant the assassin stopped at Haplain before their encounter or if he had planned to visit after he was done with them.
Either way, the colony of Haplain was a dangerous question mark in an uncertain landscape.
[It's better than nothing.]
Xosa was less inclined to make yet another detour but conceded to her logic. Although they marched steadily toward Laqueheia's temple, in a generally correct direction, it felt as though they were no closer than when they started five weeks ago. The map, at least, provided a reasonably attainable goal and would shed light on the assassin's route and motives.
So they refilled their canteens in the sparkling river and set off for Haplain before dawn.
Ducking beneath low branches, Xosa recounted every detail he knew about his twin flame with the added spice of her full name.
Commander. Sunkanmi. Dayblaze.
He wondered why she bothered telling him.
A good chunk of Sunkanmi's spirit mingled with Xosa's; otherwise, they wouldn't phase when they tried to hurt each other, but it's not like their souls were having some deep invisible dialogue. In the same way a perfectly sane adult could hate themselves unprovoked, Sunkanmi was not compelled to like Xosa beyond the godly lifeforce he seeped into her veins.
They were not lovers or friends.
But she told him her name.
That had to mean something.
Xosa knew when he wasn't committed to his role of a stubborn toad, he was actually lovely in his own broken, unnerving way. He wasn't as foolish as he liked to pretend.
Xosa, with his triple-jointed fingers and sloping brow.
Xosa, with his feathery hair and ashen lips.
Xosa, who didn't know how to be nothing to no one after eons of being everything to everyone and would settle on being anything, something, to someone.
