The TwiceBorn

So Late, So Soon

“Here we are, trapped in the amber of the moment. There is no why.” --Vonnegut

Darius stepped around a boy no older than twelve winters lying in a pool of  vomit and waved an impatient hand at the barkeep.  He struggled to twist his expression into some type of congeniality as he watched Lauren slowly approach. 

“Got all the time in the world, aintcha?”  Darius snapped. 

It was a personal affront to him to see someone just gliding along, unconcerned about the momentous sadness surrounding the end of the world he’d come to know.  Lauren shrugged and ran one slim hand through his shaggy mop of hair.

“Yes.  I have all the time this world has left to offer,” He replied softly, as his mournful eyes settled on Darius’ outrage then moved over to take in Alora and Islinn.

“Haven’t you and your brother caused enough trouble?  Now you bring her here?”  Lauren shook his head, the very picture of sorrow.

With supreme effort, Darius managed to ignore the comment.  He’d never liked Lauren.  Always asking questions and spouting some type of naysayer bullshit when it came to good and evil and all the variables in between. 

When Darius strolled through town in better times, Lauren’s eyes would rest on him as heavy as a woolen blanket in summer heat and even though Darius had his suspicions that Lauren was as crooked as a dog’s hind leg, he hadn’t been able to catch him in anything.  And that had only infuriated him more.

“You should know by now Lauren, that your opinion is as important to me as a fart in a thunderstorm,” Darius replied smoothly. “Now, shut the fuck up and get a room cleaned out. One with a locking door.” 

Lauren gave an exaggerated nod and the placid expression on his face remained unchanged.  His eyes swept over the crowd and settled on a swarthy man leaning against the wall, apparently enthralled with the carnival playing out in front of him.

“Gunnar!  I need a room cleaned! One that can be locked!”

Gunnar nodded placidly and pulled his sword. He rested a thumb against the blade to test its sharpness and his dark brows knitted up with concentration.  After a moment, he nodded to himself and started up the stairs.  Darius watched the slow, laborious ascent and ground his teeth.  Hate flashed through him, heated and sour.

That’s right.  All of you just take your mother-fucking time with everything because it’s nothing to you, nothing but time until things are fixed.  Or not fixed. Whichever way that fucking wind blows, it doesn’t matter to any of you one bit.

Darius wiped a hand across his dry lips and quickly stepped back as Alora placed her hands on the bar and studied Lauren.

“Darius will be settling the bill with you,” She said.  “Have food brought up.  She doesn’t eat much but whatever is brought up, make sure it’s hot, understand?  There will be someone arriving to pay for my services, send them up when they get here.”

Alora turned and grinned at Darius.  He wasn’t fooled.  It was a mere pulling back of her lips, he’d done it himself many a time.  His dislike of her grew.

“You surely do rule with an iron hand, Darius.” She commented dryly. “I’m sure a room in this fine establishment will more than meet my expectations.”

Darius grunted noncommittally and turned to watch Gunnar coming down the stairs with one body over his shoulder and dragging another behind, one huge hand hooked around the wrist as though he were dragging along an errant child.

“Second room s’cleared.  One of the bar sluts needs to mop up the blood and change the sheets.”

Lauren nodded and jerked a thumb towards a side door.