Who knew what would happen after stealing some bread from a street stall? Certainly not Nagan. Nothing out of the ordinary should have happened, considering stealing food to survive was the norm. But fate, destiny, karma, whatever you wanted to call...
It had been many mornings wasted looking for anything on the Codex of Drakarmir, and Nagan knew the library better than the librarian by now. He even tried glancing through Master Dagmire's personal books, though couldn't get very far without him finding out what he was trying to do. Now, there was only one option left.
Which is where Nagan currently stood; down the dark staircase and before the sealed door.
It made sense really, for anything on the Codex to be in the dark library, but that didn't mean Nagan wanted to go back in. From the presence he still sensed in the back of his mind, he feared he might become possessed again and deliver something else to the hooded man. But for a long time, that presence had been dormant. This was his best opportunity.
Nagan took a deep breath and looked down at his palm where the runes began to glow again. He raised it to the barrier and pressed the runes against it. It dissolved, just as before. There was a slight pause before he convinced himself to push open the door.
Nothing had changed since he was last in the dark library. The candles still lit themselves, casting an eerie glow throughout the room, dust laid low after being mildly disturbed, and the oppressive aura still lingered, making Nagan's shoulders sag under its weight. He stood at the doorway for a minute, thinking about what he wanted to do. He wanted to leave the door open to lessen the chances of him becoming stuck here, but he knew if he did that, it increased his chances of getting caught. After weighing the pros and cons, he chose discreteness over sanity and shut the door behind him.
With his back pressed against the door, he stared into the dim room, barely daring to breathe. He half expected something to jump out at him or grab him, he even could've sworn he saw shadows move and eyes in dark corners only for them to disappear when he tried to look at them.
The sooner you find something in here, the sooner you can get out, Nagan thought to himself, and finally pushed away from the door.
It would be weeks later before he realized something was wrong.
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Az glanced up from his book for the nth time to where Nagan sat hunched over his desk, his head in his hands, barely doing his work. Normally that wouldn't be usual since Nagan was known to be a bit of a slacker despite also seeming to be two steps ahead from the rest of their peers, but there was something that just seemed...wrong. Az couldn't put his finger on it.
The last time he tried to ask Nagan about it, it was less than...productive, to say the least. Nagan kept on brushing it off until he finally snapped, saying a few uncharacteristically harsh words before storming off. Az hadn't brought it up again. Well, until now.
No longer able to just sit back and watch his friend deteriorate like this, he carefully placed his book down and stood from his desk, trying not to make any harsh noises. He heard a small, resigned huff come from the blond as he approached. He probably knew what Az was going to ask. At least that was a good sign that maybe he was willing to talk. Az laid a hand on the other's shoulder, but quickly retracted when he saw him flinch. Once again, normally this wouldn't be unusual since he knew his friend was always a bit jumpy, but this time it seemed as if he was in pain. Perhaps he had a bruise there...that was common among combat trainees after all.
"Are you ok?" Az gently pried and hoped Nagan would at least give him something, whether it was assurance or what was bothering him.
There was a subtle twitch, though no response. Az tried again. "You should see Nurse Marvi."
"For what," Nagan snapped but didn't move an inch. "There's nothing she can do for me."
His tone caught Az off guard. Alarm bells went off in his head, but it frustrated him how he couldn't pinpoint it. Everything Nagan was doing was odd, though it wasn't as if it hadn't happened before. His friend was a temperamental flame; sometimes lighting your way while other times burning your heels. His bite ranging from a nip to poison filled fangs. But everything about this was wrong.
"So you admit there's something wrong," he stated, refusing to back down.
"There's nothing she can do for me because nothing is wrong," Nagan retorted back, finally looking up at Az. Az couldn't help but notice the prominent dark circles under his eyes.
"It looks as if you haven't slept for days. Maybe ask her for a--" Az was cut off when Nagan suddenly stood, his movements jerky rather than fluid. For a moment, Az feared Nagan intended to hit him from the fierce look in his eyes and took a cautious step back, but all he did was stare blankly at the wall for a second before turning to Az calmly.
"Let's start heading to dinner," he said casually which threw Az in for a loop. Maybe his friend was more bipolar than he thought?
"Uh..." Az didn't take his eyes off of Nagan and they stared at each other until Nagan raised a brow in question. Az swallowed thickly before replying, "Sure. Yeah, let's go."
Nagan shrugged and walked to the door, opening it ajar before Az added, "But you know you can trust me, right?"
Az watched carefully as Nagan stiffened, not moving his hand away from the handle. He rocked his weight to the side before replying softly, "I know."
With that, he pushed the door open fully and stepped into the hall, not bothering to shut the door, knowing Az would soon follow.
Az heard regret in his friend's tone. That was when he knew for sure; something was wrong.
