The Fallen Angel - Prinxiety (ON HOLD)

Chapter Eleven

Roman was frozen in place as he tried to analyze the scene before him. The bandits who had attempted to jump Virgil backed away from him and didn't meet the mysterious man's eyes. He watched as he, Janus, stepped forward to approach the mage. Now closer, he could make out appearance more. His gloves were yellow and his skin was splotched. He bore a nasty scar on his cheekbone and one of his eyes was a different color than the other. He looked like trouble and Roman immediately felt himself on edge in his presence.

"My, my, Virgil, what brings you back here?" he asked. His voice was smooth and polite, but he could tell there was venom hidden deep in it.

The mage cleared his throat and adjusted himself. "I'm just passing through, I'm only staying the night in town. Is that a problem?" he countered, not bothering to hide his own distaste in his voice.

"No, not at all my friend, you're more than welcome to stay here," Janus said with a grin. "Why wouldn't the champion of my arena be able to stay without a fuss? It's not like you owe me or anything... Or do you? I mean... I did just step in to stop you from being beaten up in the middle of a market place because you're clearly exhausted and straining yourself to keep some sort of spell going."

Virgil's face contorted with rage and disgust while Roman's gut twisted in fear. He looked down at his skin; the runes were still there so he was sill invisible. He looked toward the mage again, concern lodging itself in his throat and making it difficult to swallow. In the light of the market place, he could see more clearly how tired he looked. The spell to keep Roman invisible was likely taking all his remaining strength. He couldn't have fought the bandits if he tried.

But how did he know that? he thought as he looked toward Janus. Can he really read Virgil that well? What does he mean by "champion of my arena"? How do these two know each other?

Janus began to circle Virgil with a look of curiosity. "Although I am intrigued," he said, scanning him in a way that made the prince's stomach turn. "What kind of spell are you trying to maintain? How curious..."

"Just tell me what you want, Janus," Virgil spat.

"Well, it's not every day that the champion returns to town. I think it's only fair that in return for stepping in, you make an appearance at my arena tomorrow. Give everyone a show and drive my sales through the roof for a day," he explained, adjusting his gloves. "You told Maurice yourself that if they were looking for a fight it would have to be tomorrow, so why don't you make good on that, huh?"

Janus pulled a glove off one of his hands and extended it to him. The mage grumbled under his breath, looking furious. He eventually nodded and looked up to glare at the man. With another quiet swear, he shook it. "Fine, you have a deal, but after that, I'm out."

"That's perfectly fine with me, Virgil. I'm simply having you return a favor for the favor I've done for you," he told him in a patronizingly comforting voice.

He pulled his hand back and slid his glove back on. He folded his arms behind his back and grinned once more at the mage. "Now, you know where to be, show up before midday, that's when business really starts to boom. I'll see you then."

Janus left with a swish of his small cloak. The bandits left, grumbling and glaring at Virgil. It was clear that they weren't allowed to hurt him now that he'd made a deal with the man who was possibly their boss. Roman let out the breath he didn't know he was holding as Virgil began to walk toward the inn once more. He hurried to keep up. His hands were shaking and his tongue was practically tingling with questions that he wanted to ask. He forced himself to stay quiet a bit longer as Virgil paid for their room. 

Once they got into the room, the mage collapsed against the wall and slid to the floor. The runes disappeared from his skin in an instant. Roman gasped as he took in Virgil's appearance. He was sweating, panting, and scrunching his face up in pain.

"Are you alright? What should I do?" the prince hurried out, kneeling on the floor to inspect him. Anger bubbled up in his chest as he looked at him. "I told you not to do anything stupid or overwork yourself with the magic! We could've figured something else out! You're a mess! And who was that guy? How do you even know him? I'm so-"

"Can you please just shut up?" Virgil managed, gasping in pain again. "I'm- I'm fine- my back hurts, that's all-"

He cut himself off with a hiss as he leaned against the wall once more. Roman watched quietly in with worry as he tried to regulate his breathing. "What should I do? How can I help, Virgil? I want to help, you're not fine."

"I'll be fine after some rest," Virgil insisted, opening his eyes and meeting his gaze. "That was really stupid of me to do, but I've done worse. Honestly, I'll be fine after I've rested."

Roman sighed worriedly and stood back up, pacing the room. He chewed on his bottom lip as he watched Virgil breathe in and out slowly, occasionally wincing. He looked toward the bathroom and got an idea. "Would a bath help with your back? I can go start the water if it would," he offered, gesturing toward the bathroom.

Virgil's expression turned to one of confusion for a moment before what he asked seemed to register. "Yeah, that... that might help..."

The prince nodded and moved quickly to the bathroom. He turned on the water, adjusting it to be hot but not hot enough to burn his skin. He stood and watched as the water filled up, tapping his foot impatiently. He headed back into the bedroom, picking up the satchel Virgil had bought and put their new clothes in. Guilt twisted in his stomach again.

"You really didn't have to buy this stuff, I'll pay you back for it," he said.

The mage began to stand up and looked toward the bag. He waved off his words. "Whatever, it's not that big of a deal," he muttered, taking off his heavy cloak. He tossed it over the end of the bed. "It wasn't that expensive. Don't worry about it."

Roman wasn't convinced, but he was prevented from replying because Virgil began walking toward the bathroom. He bit back a gasp as he pulled off his shirt as he went, letting out a wince from the motion. Warmth rushed into his cheeks at the sight of Virgil's bare back. However, the flustered feelings were quickly squashed as he saw something shocking. There was a big bruise from Maurice's attack, but he was more focused on what was on his right shoulder blade; a large tattoo of a feathery wing.

He watched as he closed the door to the bathroom behind him, feeling more confused and curious than ever. There was so much about Virgil that he didn't understand.