Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Hot Cocoa

The wind roared its might, a howling gale that tore through the trees with an icy vengeance.

Yet in the dark night was a soft orange glow unhindered by the frost that crept in frigid crystals in the corners and ledge.

Tucked away on a large chaise couch within the cozy upstairs of the Tea Shop were a couple of friends, snuggled close against the chill of the night.

Neiro lay up against his tall companion's side, and drew the thick microfiber blanket up around them. Nestled against his flatmate he sighed and cozied up underneath a layer of warmth. But still, it seemed lacking in something.

The albino glanced around. There was his mug of hot cocoa, the soft lamplight, platter of snacks, the remote within reach, and... Of course, how could he forget?

Neiro slipped his arms around the brunette's midsection and pushed his face into the other's arm to hide the shy smile that crept onto his face. To his pleasant surprise, Silas glanced down briefly but said nothing, allowing him to cling and rest his head against him.

The two stayed like that, cozied up on a harsh winter night in a throw in front of the large screen, though nothing was playing.

There were other things to captivate them.

As if on queue, an enticing waft of cocoa drifted up to the albino as they sat there and relished in the warmth of one another.

Neiro hummed at the thought of the sweet creamy drink and untangled himself from Silas. He reached for the mug, only to be caught in a pair on long arms.

"Hey!" Neiro whined staring balefully at the mug sitting invitingly on the crochet coaster a mere fingertip away.

But Silas dragged the other to his chest and held him there, chuckling at the indignant huff as Neiro bristled before relenting and melting into the embrace.

It had been a few months since the two began living together. Amusingly enough Neiro was spending more time in the Tea Shop than he did anywhere else, and one day simply invited himself in.

It had been a rainy day, almost as dark and stormy as the day they met, when there was a knock. Silas knew who it was even before he got to the door. Only Neiro would have the audacity to come knocking before opening hours. And sure enough the albino was there on his doorstep, drenched to the bone and with duffle bag in hand. The short man proclaimed that he was moving in and made himself at home to the brunette's dismay.

Still, there were no doubts in his mind that the new accommodations and lodging was for the better. Neiro's presence was a blessing as his legs grew stiff and his back weaker. The other took to the Tea Shop well, tended to and fussing over him with an almost maternal care. A hilarious sight as the short man insistently ushered him into a chair, fretting over him. Neiro watched him like a hawk, chastising him should he try to do anything else and ensuring that the brunette remained seated.

Though truth be told it was a relief, and the brunette was deeply grateful, more so than he would ever let on. Besides Neiro seemed to just know anyway.

At last he loosened his grip, letting the albino up to drink deep of the sweet concoction, which he did so with glee.

His companion let out a contented sigh before snuggling back into his side.

It was warm, and he was starting to feel drowsy.

A nudge in his side brought his attention to the other. Neiro pushed his face against him, nuzzling him, "Silas."

"What is it?" He peered down at the other, but Neiro just giggled, "Silas!"

"What?"

But Neiro just repeated his name in a cheerful mumble, hugging the other closer.

With a sigh he leaned back into the chaise longue.

"I'm glad I met you."

He glanced down at the odd eyes, glowing with a merriment so simple but which was beyond him.

The brunette said nothing but Neiro felt the arm around his shoulder squeeze just a might tighter, and saw the light dust of pink that came not from the warmth of the heated room nor their cozy blanket, and grinned a knowing grin.

Silas shifted and cleared his throat, eyes closing and groaning to himself in embarrassment as Neiro tried, and failed, to stifle his laughter.

"I love you too Si!"

And the warmth in his cheeks which he attributed to the glowing hearth, grew warmer still.

Snippets and Stories: Dream Walking: Ring of Thorns (Pt. 2)

When he came to from his feverish sleep, he lurched and emptied his stomache.

"Here, it's a little cold."

He nodded and took the skin, gargling the water to rid himself of the acrid taste on his tongue.

It was disgusting, but Neiro didn't shy away from the retching nor the doubtlessly sour and bitter stench that he stank of.

Hooking an arm around him, Neiro helped lift the man onto his feet and made for the trail leading away from the city lights.

A protest had barely left him before the other was filling him in, "I went into town for supplies while you were asleep. Just the necessities, I can't carry more than my pack and you at the same Time. I've left our belongings at the inn for safekeeping. Told 'em we were tourists here for a bit of camping. Wont be suspicious what with it being the season for sea fireflies and the ever popular touristy photos of the glow from the peak o' Barlog Bog..."

He grimaced, grateful for his companion's foresight yet dismayed. Neiro was right. His own body wasn't fit to carry his own. Yet despite having cut down, it was still slow progress. Burdened as he was with the pack and the Invalid, Neiro was struggling.

"It would be wiser to tell them I fell ill. Bring me back to the inn and leave me there."

But Neiro shook his head, gaze steeled, "We've waited too long. Any longer and your body will succumb to the toxins. If I left you there, I might not make it back in Time."

Possibly. There was a good chance he wouldn't make it.

But neither would they make the trek there at this pace, never mind the task of foraging for the elusive shroom and preparing the alchemic salve.

They took frequent breaks, and eventually the rocky outcrops gave way to dense foliage.

"Silas I thi--" but when he turned to the other, he wasn't altogether present.

Neiro sighed and lowered him to the ground. They had fashioned a makeshift stretcher out of several branches when his legs gave out and they were forced to drag him along.

Even now he was stubborn, insisting that Neiro continue ahead without him.

As things were he might just end up doing that. Silas wasn't well enough to travel, and the rocky climb was proving less well worn than he'd hoped.

Mind set, he scrawled out a hasty note and forced it under the sleeping man's arm hand.

Muttering out an incantation, he placed a ward on his companion and let the aether take him back to the inn.

It was all well that he had made such preparations in advance. The shaman had left their packs in a rented room specific instructions to not disturb. Not as strange as it sounds, honestly. Most tourists preferred their privacy.

The precautions had been meant to send Silas back after they had found the Wyrmwort, that he may rest sooner, or as an emergency escape. Now though he was grateful he rigged a binding to return to.

"Wait for me Sy, I wont be long." He muttered.

Elsewhere, Silas fell onto the sheets heavily, and woke with a start.

He glanced around at a simple four walled room of quaint touch, night time cityscape light and noises seeping through a lone window, and a hearty fire crackled in the hearth.

Silas groaned, once again feeling disoriented and mildly nauseous.

Last he knew it had been the wilderness.

A change of scenery was one thing, but this displacement was quick growing old. Hopefully he would soon be rid of such disorienting and abrupt changes.

Neiro sighed and summoned to himself a deck of cards. Normally it would be Silas who drew the Tarots, but they were all he could bring on this trip. Something small and versatile that wouldn't weight him down like his greatsword would have.

Closing his eyes he reached for the cards and felt the bond establish.

With that he drew a card to fulfill his needs. Whatever would be best in his current state of affairs.

Staring back at him was the hanged man.

This couldn't be good.

He sighed and relented. Allowing the latent magic to take hold. Silas couldn't wait for his hesitation.

What he hadn't expected, was for the sacrifice to come so soon. Though perhaps it was best to pay upfront rather than in some bind later.

With a hiss he grasped at his right arm. Sharp cuts pierced from deep within with unnatural precision, the eerily clear lines etched deep into his forearm and yet markedly red with blood.

Blood bound, did the same sanguine life seep and surge upwards, rising and taking on the familiar form of his faithful sword.

He marveled at its sturdy yet lightweight form. How convenient.

Curious he held the weapon in his hand, feeling it nigh pulse an unsettlingly familiar warmth in his hands. Tentatively he closed his eyes, opening them as he felt the weapon shift, form changing that of the wicked scythe he had pictured.

The cards had truly picked a fitting weapon.

The tarot shuffled back into the large deck, and the scythe melted away into an unassuming scarlett band around his wrist.

A weapon that he would carry within him, which wouldn't burden or inconvenience, and which could be drawn in a mere instance and would require no mending.

So long as he was well.

Having gotten that out of the way and unburdened, the hunt for Wyrmwort would truly begin.

Welcome to Insanity: Prologue (Pt. 3: Acceptance)

Welcome to Insanity: Prologue

Part 3: Acceptance
"Do you always wear those shades?"

Silas peered over the edge of his book down at the striking mop of white hair and grimaced, but there was no malice in his glare.

Snippets and Stories: (WtI) Smoky Mirrors (Pt. 1 of ?)

Shyloris sifted through the menagerie of belongings, picking up what seemed to be a normal albeit weathered pack of cards and a worn flat wooden wedge, were it not for the cryptic fading painting on its container.

It was actually a tarot deck. Gifted to her from a dear fellow vagabond while she had been on the road searching for Zer Zura.

"A guide, from beyond the stars. May they hearken to your call and light your path when the Heavens themselves discount your pleas."

Their time together had been brief, but such was their way of Life. The way of wanderers.