Chapter 29: A World For Them And Only Them

Sprinting southward from the tavern led to an overarching wooden bridge that connected to Mileth Crypt. Morr stopped on the bridge; the breathtaking view and alluring sight captivated his mind. Calm waters beneath his feet flowed and swayed naturally. The reflection bounced back his image, albeit distorted. It wasn’t everyday one can appreciate the beauty of a full moon. With all he’s been through, this moment -- this lull -- was pure bliss.

Morr yawned and stretched his limbs, reaching them towards the sparkling starry skies. The pure whiteness of the moon made his lips naturally curled at its brilliance. Under the illumination of the moon Morr spotted a strange, dark lining on his forearm. It wasn’t long nor did it form any shape; it was a short, curvy line. Morr tried rubbing it off, thinking it was some smear from the bar counter. Making no progression with that act, he then tried to scratch it off. The area of his skin became red, yet the dark, curvy line proved resilient.

“What the…” Fixated by the smirch on his skin, he stared and stared, entranced by the still lining. However, in the next moment, Morr blinked and the dark line elongated just by a tiny hair. It was impossible to tell if one didn’t know how it previously looked, but to Morr it was obvious. With the progress of the curvy line came a deathly, vile taint in his forearm. Colors of longevity and wellness fainted from his face. Morr kicked his legs into high-gear and ran to the law district located near the entrance of Mileth.

The late night had sung many adventurers to sleep. Many of them found uncomfortable spaces near the road and grassy areas. Their snoozing bodies laid away from the road, but not too far from the streetlights. As if they were guaranteed to be safe, they laid liberally with their belongings.

Upon stepping one foot past the entrance of Mileth’s Crypt, he felt an overwhelming prickly gaze. The sudden presence demanded the stop of his movements. A pair of eyes glared at him from afar, sizing him up and examining the muscles of his body for hints of his next movements.

What?! Is someone after me?! Morr frantically turned around, coursing his chakra throughout his body. The scarce amount of streetlights made it difficult to see everything around him. The dark was dominant in this particular area with no active adventurers in sight.

What stood between him and his attacker were three streetlights generously spaced between the crypt’s entrance and the road towards the law district. Morr positioned himself behind the furthest illuminated circle in hopes of identifying the attacker. Invisible hands firmly wrapped his neck; every millisecond pass was an experience with choking air, as if he was being strangle to death. For someone to be able to exert this much pressure had him at the tip of his toes.

“You…”

A distinct voice called out to him, followed by their shadow rapidly passing the first streetlight.

The mobility of his attacker was much greater than he ever anticipated. Even with the help of the streetlights all he saw was a blur of movement that left as quickly as it enter. Morr motioned his right hand to swing to the left as fast as possible. With all of his might he managed an inch from his resting position, but the blur of movement had already entered and exited the second streetlight.

The enemy’s movement speed was approaching an insane level; he couldn’t keep track of their shadow anymore, much less identify them. Nevermind how hard it was to breathe due to their exerting aura – he had difficulty trying to keep up with his eyes. With a mental timing and a blind guess, Morr’s hand finally reached in front of him.

However… his hand came to a forceful halt mid-swing.

“Asshole!”

Appearing under the same streetlight was Priscilla. Her intoxicating eyes glared into his with their face a feet apart. Her white tank-top was firm as she dragged her hand to clutch the top of his shirt. A frown occupied the young woman’s face with uncertainty. Her left hand strengthened her grip on Morr’s right forearm.

“Wow…” The sweats protruding from his forehead was barely the starting point of how loss at words he was. To think such a powerful opponent came from the same girl that he partied with baffled him. Morr tried to break free of her grasp but Priscilla wouldn’t budge. “What are you doing…?”

“Where is she?!” Priscilla demanded and inched her face forward. “Where is the Priestess of Sgrios?!”

“What?” Morr leaned away.

“I know you know where she is.” Priscilla’s frown tempted his heart to speak. “Tell me!”

“I don’t have time for this!” Morr took a step away with her hand pulling his shirt back.

Priscilla reacted by forcing his forearm to his back, locking his shoulder, and buckling his knees. Unable to read her face, Morr became agitated by the whole ordeal. Time is limited, and he was close to completing his objective.

“Stop it!” Morr’s upward glare contested Priscilla’s downward glare. Their eyes locked -- they remained silent, letting the expressions on their faces communicate. Eventually, her seldom expression gave way to a long face. Morr’s glare grew weak as well; he could no longer stay angry at her troubled expression. “Come on… Let go.”

Priscilla’s fingers trembled; her inner conflict resulted into indecisiveness. To let go, or to not let go… Staring at his face told her to let go, but her mind tells her to hold on. Unable to decide, she forced him flat onto his stomach and sat on his back. Rather than making a decision, she opted for more time to think it over. Both hands supported her chin as she ponder her next move.

Morr slightly push his arms away from the ground, lifting his body a centimeter higher. She was surprisingly light; to push her off his back would be an easy feat. With her mind somewhere else, he thought this would be a good opportunity as any. Priscilla smirked at his flexed muscles -- a giveaway to his intentions.

“Try it.” Priscilla’s haughty tone spoke volume of how confident she was about capturing him again. He was unresponsive; Morr laid defeatedly under her with a dead act. Unable to come up with a decision, she funneled her stress and rummaged her straight, brown hair into a messy beast. “Ugh! Where is Pontiff when you need him?”

His lack of response, any response, was a clear sign that he was upset. She softly sighed. They were so happy just a few moments ago. She didn’t want them to be fighting. She didn’t want… this. Priscilla calmed her heart and eased the tensions in her body.

It was when she cleared her mind that she noticed a slight tremble. The boy under her put up a strong front, but under that strong front was a vulnerable kid, just like her. She glanced at the dark cape that hid the boy’s back. Even with it there she could tell how small his back was. It was fragile… and tiny… like it was trying its best to keep everything together. Another tremble, but this one was lighter.

A series of breeze swept their hairs and made them dance. With how quiet everything was, it felt like this was a moment made for them two. A moment in time where no one can disturb them. A space where the only thing that matters are those two. A plane that will bend to their whims, and only theirs. She gently caressed the back of his head.

What are you afraid of? I’m right here. She brushed the back of his head, slowing down to a halt. The series of breeze faded and gave their hairs a moment of rest. It was a beautiful night. No one was nearby, no one to speed up the time around them.

“Look up.” Priscilla’s words gently rubbed his ears. “It’s beautiful.”

Morr turned his head sideways.

It was a beautiful night without a cloud in the sky. The sight of her face against the sparkling stars throbbed his heart. A majestic view to behold. Red-violet eyes that sparkled brighter than all of the stars in the sky. A smile that commanded the attention of everyone around her. It was warm. It was full of life. She was entranced by the sky, and he was to her. A smile that was happy to be alive.

A serendipitous fate between him and her was something Morr knew he could never pay off. Since their encounter with Vogh and Logan, to the days of their escape, to the hardships they faced, to the activities that they’ve done… and now here. The beating of his heart became embarrassingly loud. Her gaze remain fixed to the brilliance of the sky, and he couldn’t ply his eyes off of hers. Peace and serenity… it was all they could’ve hoped for.

Pontiff stepped outside of Mileth Crypt’s entrance, but stopped at the captivating picture under the spotlight. A person who stared so gracefully at the world, and a person who silently enjoyed that view. A silent picture that could tell a thousand stories. The borders around them seemed almost impossible to break through. It was for them, made by those two, and only for them.

“Hey.” Pontiff called out. “You found him.”

They both looked at Pontiff with the stupidest expressions riddling their faces. Their thoughts became one: Somehow, in some mystical ways, Pontiff is always receiving the short end of the stick and missing out on the fun. Finding humor between them seem to be so easy when they experienced so much together. Morr and Priscilla happily smiled at each other, thinking how much their team rules.