Playing The Victims [BL]

Chapter One Hundred & Forty-Eight | Fourth World

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As the rain subsided, leaving behind only telltale signs, people began to stir. Those few whom had adopted to living within the confines of the treehouses, opened their eyes to the raw sight and smells of Mother Nature. Which automatically put them in a good mood.

Children that were bursting with energy, were the first to jump to their feet. Some finding the nearest fig tree and cupping its leaves, which had amassed a few gulp-fulls worth of rainwater. They then travelled as a group, running through the dense woodlands and reached somewhere everyone considered the heart of the forest.

Old rock formations, which had once been the base of a gigantic river that flowed through the deeply-rooted trees, had crumbled due to the lack of water cementing them together, and landed obscurely. It created a cave-like effect, with an orifice that proved to be a perfection funnel for when it rained. Rewarding those who lived close by, with a shower.

The children were fascinated, and easily incorporated this into their daily routine. Which proved to be hugely beneficial when it came to the makeshift clan's overall level of hygiene. Which also went hand in hand with advancements in practical thinking. Wondering how they could conserve the water during the dry months.

Once everyone's minds slowly turned away from the impending fear of battle, the large cluster of people came on by leaps and bounds.

And the young children believed it was because of two people. A pair they couldn't help but crane their necks to try and capture a glimpse of as they scurried past their treehouse on the way to the unique waterfall. But it was so early, and with no signs of movement.

Their parents had repeatedly told them not to bother their leader and his beloved one who took care of them when they were unwell. They were told about how these two men would stay up late into the early morning, ensuring that everyone could live without worry.

They had stars in their eyes as the children shared whispers of wonder. They hurriedly made their way to the where the water fell, and created a deafening backdrop for them to scream, laugh and play to their hearts content.

Oblivious to the movement that was going on inside the shelter they once stood outside of. As the two highly-respected individuals were coming to an exhausted finish, having filled the time spent for the remainder of the clan to wake up.

Even so, as and when everyone was up and ready, going about their normal routines, there was no word from the two men. Instead they remained out of sight of everyone else, within the safety of the treehouse both now called their home. It allowed Finch the time to gradually open up about things he had not been forthcoming about.

He couldn't bring himself to tell Falcon about the reality of the situation, what waited for him on the other side whether he succeeded or failed. But he didn't possess any sense of guilt, just like he hadn't with his previous lover's reincarnations. There was something in the back of his mind that whispered warnings of keeping thing in some semblance of an order.

Instead he told his lover about the curse, about Zephyr's identity of being the god of anguish. And to both of those truths, Falcon didn't show a shred of surprise. He only sighed and shook his head, as if confirming what he had already been thinking.

The man who usually stood tall, even when littered with injuries, allowed his shoulders to slump when in front of the man he trusted the most. He dipped his head and his silver eyes reflected the wisps and flickers of the fire-pit that cooked their breakfast.

"The only one left from my family is Fyre." He spoke mostly to himself, but Finch crouched close enough to hear every word.

"Yet is untouched by the curse himself. You are his adopted son, and I have seen it with my own eyes that he wouldn't want to harm a hair on your head." Finch slowly ran his hand up his lover's arm and squeezed his forearm. It drew those unusually coloured eyes back to his own, where they belonged.