The Firelands

Chapter 21 - Lower Hill

8th day of the Second Month, Love's Moon

11:50 pm

Lower Hill

It was pushing midnight when Zedkiel went down to check on the others. Incendio didn't look like he would sleep any time soon – he was up on the tables with several other young men, all dancing some jig, laughing and singing as they taught Incendio new dances and the music being played for them got faster and faster along with the clapping of the surrounding crowds. Locked up for thirteen years, huh? Yet he was so socially component, odd.

Theth was at the same seat, a drink next to his elbow as he watched, not socialising at all, just content to watch so long as he was left to his own devises. Zedkiel joined him, tapping him on the shoulder, making him glance up before shifting over to make room.

"It is alright, I will not stay down," Zedkiel said, holding up a hand, "Where is Kalen? I cannot see him."

Theth shrugged. "He left a half hour or so ago. I thought he had gone upstairs. Perhaps he went hunting for his side of town."

"His side?"

"Well, he was wounded by you and then that human over there told him to go eat out in the dark, away from civilised folk," Theth said, his tone neutral. "An hour ago someone was talking about a group of vampire travelling through, staying at another inn. So perhaps he went there." He shrugged again. "But I don't know."

Zedkiel looked towards the man who had spoken to Kalen, then looked back to Theth. "Be sure to get sleep at some point."

Theth just waved him off, picking up his drink as Zedkiel walked out, heading back to his room. Another inn? Damn, what had he said to Redion? He needed Kalen to like him. So what did he do, he struck him. Well, that would certainly make someone feel something to another person; it was just unlikely to be very positive.

He let out a sigh. Of all the things to do, he had acted out in violence. He was never the first to turn to violence yet all he had been able to think was remove the iron grip from his neck... still, the violence. Was the sick feeling in his throat shame? Why should he feel ashamed, he was a prince. A person could not just grab a prince... but no, he was a Knight first and foremost... and so was Kalen, they were of equal rank.

He closed his eyes for a moment, stopping, pinching the bridge of his nose. A pain was brewing at his left temple, was he getting sick? Or was he just overly stressed? Surely he could handle this... he had to, he had six more months of it.

Taking a breath, he straightened up, brushing off his clothes and headed back to their room.

He pushed open the door and looked around. It was a small room with two beds and a small room off to the side, which was the bathroom. Zedkiel had felt his heart crash to his stomach when he had seen the room, but with a lack of other options, he had inched into the room and felt the beds, glances into the bathroom and, on a plus note, opened the doors to the small balcony they were lucky enough to have, which looked over the city wall and out towards the forest and even had a couple of chairs and small table out on it. It was nothing like his home, but then, that was the problem wasn't it? He was used to his home, and he needed to remove that expectation from his mind.

As soon as he entered the room he noted something different. After a moment he realised it was the white box that had appeared out on the table on the balcony, set next to the book he had been reading out there. He swept over to it and was shocked to smell the scent of food.