Corone, the day they gained notice of the Demon Gate.
Sorian pulled up his sleeve, hiding the scars from his experienced body, and began tying the button and loops of his shirt. He closed his eyes as he could feel the fabric brushing against his many life experiences; battle scars, accidents, memories and mistakes. Each filled him with a strong sense of nostalgia.
“WOAH! What made that one?!” The young boy asked excitedly.
“That’s when I asked someone too many questions!”
The young boy gaped before Sorian gave him a soft pat on the head followed by a teasing smile. Then after taking a few uncertain steps backwards, the boy ran out of the room.
“Sorian…” Her young voice called out. It was the lad’s older sister, leaning against the stone of the door frame in a clean blue dress. “You can be so cruel.”
“Delina my dear, neither of your two siblings seem to understand the meaning of privacy. Always breaking in and waking me up in the mornings.”
She laughed knowingly and knocked back her dark hair before moving over and sitting upon the edge of his bed - her grin still present as she posed as if to show off her new dress. Older than her brothers she was in her teenage years, but still full of innocence and youth. She was the only that Sorian had really connected with. “I guess with us young-uns it must get annoying.”
“New clothes? Expensive.”
“YES!” She exclaimed loudly, “mother said it’s for special events only. But I couldn’t help it. I had to try it on! Does it look good, yeah?”
Sorian smiled at her, she was beautiful, still young and growing, but in time she would most certainly attract a suitable husband. “Yes, quite lovely.”
“It has these tassels that come down the arm, and if I hold them, they do this!” She held out her arms and like wings the extra foldable fabric opened up under the arms and drew in his eyes. Marked with white flower and petal designs it looked fit for a princess as it connected from wrist to hip.
“My, my. You look wonderful my dear.”
His compliment was quickly interrupted by the opening of the front door. It creaked absurdly loud to the point not even a thief could have snuck into this house. Delina almost froze as she heard her mothers voice call in having returned from the early market stalls. She looked at Sorian and then without a word dashed out of his room holding onto the dress to keep it off the floor.
Sorian continued to get ready. He wouldn’t say anything to get her in trouble and planned to forget anything about a blue dress. He straightened his plain clothes, attached his belt and scabbard and slipped his faded green cloak over his shoulders. Then headed downstairs.
“You know I don’t like it when you bring your work to the house.” Meridith spoke out candidly. Delina’s mother was always blunt and honest, even with the difficult things. “It’s one of the terms of your stay… I’m supposed to kick you out.”
Feeling confused, Sorian paused for a moment and looked around the family room. There was nothing different, just the same seating, dining table and kitchen merged into one decently sized main room.
“Ermm…”
“It’s on the table. A letter for you. Handed to me as I arrived back from the market. I had my hands full with baskets and the little man slipped it into my fruit when I wasn’t interested.” Her hands rested firmly on her hips and her eyebrow raised as if to wait for an apology.
Sorian opened the letter, slipping his finger under the sealed fold and tearing it. Unmarked he already knew it was work, so did Meridith and while her glare moved onto her work load. She stomped a little harder as she walked. He had promised her that any work relations would remain separate while under her roof. His extended family were happy to shelter him, but she hated anything with swords, knives or fighting, and Sorian had unfortunately lived a life of it.
He scrunched up the paper in his rough, dry hand and dropped it into the dying kitchen fire. He had been summoned by the Penumbra Syndicate, and while it stated no explanation or information, its destination was always the fire. Secret organizations do not like evidence left strewn about. He wandered to the door rather sheepishly, he never liked upsetting his family, even if they were only distant relatives. He had no other.
He coughed, and then felt the urge to cough again. The chesty sickness had been bothering him for a little while now, and it was just getting worse and worse. He cleared his throat and then grabbed a quick drink to swill around his dry mouth.
“Have you not been to see the doctor yet? I swear by the god of the skies if you pass anything onto my children I’ll kill you myself!”
“No… I haven’t found the time.”
Then make the time. You’ll be surprised by what they can do.”
“Yes. I’ll see one on my way back. I can’t imagine I’ll be gone too long.” He paused by the door as it creaked open for his exit. “I’m sorry. It won’t happen again.”
“I’m not interested in apologies, I want actions, they speak much louder than words and would be promises… Are you not retiring yet?”
“Retiring isn’t really my style….”
“Great.. well keep it away, please. Oh, and your skeleton friend is still sitting in the barn. Please take him away for the day. He scares the sheep.”
—----
Sorian felt the stiffness in his bones as he clenched his hand. His dry dusty fingers were cold and most certainly old, and it was only then he realized the addition to his scar collection. Running from the back of his hand and up to his wrist, it was a long one, and must have happened in the brawl at Etherea. He ached so much he hadn’t noticed his new mark. The cold wind of the plains had really taken an effect on him and even with pulling his cloak over his face, it seeped into his lungs and hurt his chest. He coughed again, hard this time as he placed his hand firmly over his mouth to muffle it. Then, he sighed.
Cazri, at this time riding closest to him, gave a slight glance in his direction. A small acknowledgement ticked in her mind as if to suggest this cough was a sign he was too weak and old. Sorian could feel it in her eyes, but as she turned away and moved into a more leading position, he had no moment to speak up.
Finally they were arriving at their location, moving off the lower plain and around a rocky ridge they finally moved into a position where Storm’s dusty aid was no longer required. The horses made short work of hilly terrain and then revealed before them by the ridge, camped an army of dwarven might. Nestled in amongst the grey rocks tents and temporary structures; dwarves, armour, weapons, more horses, carts and other mysterious siege like weapons that Sorian had not seen before.
Wow… She really has been busy. What possible connection could she have with this army?
