[Realm: Uhorus]
[Location: Verdantis]
[Capital City]
("I really don’t understand it.")
The thought lingered at the forefront of Aerinon’s mind as he wandered through the castle corridors with no particular destination. His hands remained tucked inside his coat pockets, each footstep sounding through the stone beneath him. Servants passed now and then, offering respectful bows as they hurried along their duties, yet he scarcely acknowledged them. His lone eye remained fixed ahead, his expression as unreadable as ever.
("Is my personality truly that much of a problem?")
The question refused to leave him.
It was not frustration or insecurity, simply sothing he had yet to arrive at an answer for. Lyra had repeated the sentint more than once. Alyssia had made no effort whatsoever to hide her dislike towards him.
Even Lucinda, though considerably kinder, had looked at him with an expression that suggested there was sothing fundantally lacking.
He struggled to identify exactly what that was.
("I suppose it’s an ordinary concern to have, especially during tis like these.") His thoughts drifted lazily onward. ("People seem to place considerable value on how others carry themselves. Perhaps that’s simply normal.")
A silence followed.
("If that’s the case, then maybe I should be grateful they concern themselves with it.") The conclusion ca without conviction. ("Though...")
His pace slowed ever so slightly.
("...that doesn’t make it any less tedious. Should it really matter to them this much?") He genuinely couldn’t tell as his footsteps ca to a gradual halt.
To his right stood one of the castle’s towering windows, stretching nearly from floor to ceiling. Beyond the glass lay Verdantis beneath the perpetually twisted skies. The blackened sky churned endlessly overhead while countless Abyssal tears hung suspended.
Ordinarily, his gaze would’ve settled there.
Instead...
He looked at the reflection staring back at him.
The young man within the glass mirrored him perfectly.
Dark hair, a black eyepatch adorned with a single blue flower and the solitary black eye devoid of any visible pupil.
An expression so still it scarcely seed alive.
("That’s .") He regarded himself for several long monts without criticism or admiration. ("...I look good.")
The thought arrived with neutrality; there was no vanity attached to it. It was no different than noting the weather or the colour of stone.
His head tilted ever so slightly.
His reflection did the sa.
("Should I actually bother changing?") The question remained suspended for several seconds. ("People change themselves for the sake of others all the ti. That’s probably ordinary too.")
He considered the notion with all the investnt one might devote to choosing a route through a hallway.
("Perhaps I should ask Ingrid.")
She would likely know; Ingrid generally understood people far better than he did. Having reached that remarkably simple conclusion, Aerinon turned away from the window and resud walking.
He had scarcely taken more than two steps.
"A mont, Aerinon."
The calm, mature voice carried cleanly through the corridor; he stopped imdiately.
Turning slightly, he found a familiar figure approaching.
"Rowena", he fully faced his fellow Inheritor.
Her composed posture remained as immaculate as ever, her teal eyes carrying that sa sharpness they always possessed. She never appeared threatening, yet there was an odd heaviness behind the way she observed everything.
"What is it?" he asked simply.
"There is sothing I wished to discuss." Rowena ca to stand besides him rather than opposite him; she didn’t look directly at him. Instead, she faced the hallway ahead. "Walk with ."
Aerinon regarded her for a brief mont; he couldn’t imagine what topic required a private conversation between the two of them. The Inheritors rarely sought one another out without reason. Most were content remaining within their own responsibilities.
Still...
He gave a small nod.
"Very well." Without another word, they began walking side by side through the long corridor. For several monts, only their footsteps accompanied them.
Eventually, Rowena broke the silence.
"The calamity has worsened considerably these past few days." Her voice remained steady; it didn’t sound fearful, but it wasn’t detached either. "The leylines continue to erode, the Abyssal tears increase in number with each passing day and the strain upon the realm grows heavier by the hour."
She lifted her gaze slightly, though it remained fixed ahead.
"The Abyss truly is a terrifying force." Despite the gravity of her words, her expression scarcely changed. There was no panic or any visible concern.
Aerinon listened patiently.
Then, after another few steps, he finally spoke.
"You’ve never been soone who circles around a point." His tone remained as idle as ever. "It seems you’re starting now."
For the first ti since approaching him, the smallest trace of amusent appeared.
Not quite a smile, rely the ghost of one.
Rowena’s eyes shifted briefly towards him.
"So you noticed." The corner of her mouth lifted just enough to acknowledge the remark. "The world’s ending, Aerinon." Her expression settled. "I’ve no intention of wasting either of our ti."
She allowed a heartbeat of silence before continuing.
"So I’ll be direct." Her gaze t his fully now. "You are doing too little."
The statent landed without accusation, simply delivered as though she were stating an undeniable truth.
Aerinon’s expression remained unchanged; his lone eye rested upon her quietly.
"You sought out simply to tell that?" Aerinon asked. His voice kept the sa level tone, more inquisitive than offended. There was no defensiveness in the question, only a genuine attempt to understand why Rowena had gone out of her way to find him.
"That," Rowena answered evenly, "and a good deal more." She kept pace beside him, her boots making soft sounds through the otherwise quiet corridor. "The others are unlikely to approach you about this."
She paused briefly, choosing her words with sothing that might have been care.
"So have very little faith that anything they say would reach you." Her teal eyes remained forward. "The rest..." she continued, "...are intimidated by you, whether they realize it or not." Only then did she glance toward him. "And then there’s Lyra." The smallest trace of amusent touched her features. "She’s convinced you’re sothing of a lost cause."
Aerinon listened without interruption.
Ordinarily, remarks like those would’ve wounded another person’s pride.
They might’ve prompted excuses, irritation, or at the very least, denial. None ca; he simply accepted the statents as observations. He knew Rowena well enough to understand she wasn’t trying to insult him. She had never been the sort to throw unnecessary barbs. If she spoke bluntly, it was because she believed bluntness was warranted.
Nothing more and nothing less.
"I’d like to get to the point," Rowena continued after a short silence, "but before I do..." Her gaze shifted toward him again. "...there’s sothing I’ve wanted to ask you for quite so ti."
Aerinon t her eyes.
"What is it?" Her expression remained composed. "Is there a reason you’re here?" The question sat between them; it was vague. Asked of almost anyone else, it would’ve demanded clarification.
Here?
It required none.
Aerinon understood imdiately; she wasn’t asking why he stood in this hallway. Nor why he lived in Verdantis; she was asking why he remained there.
Why he continued serving.
Why, despite possessing power that rivaled Gods, did he still choose this life?
Without hesitation, he answered.
"Each Inheritor born in Verdantis is required to serve, I suppose." The response ca almost chanically, as though he were reciting a law he had morized years ago.
Nothing more and nothing less.
Rowena released a quiet breath that almost resembled a laugh.
"Right." Her voice softened ever so slightly. "The law." She let the words settle before continuing. "Yet laws only govern those willing to obey them." She folded her hands loosely behind her back as they walked. "We’re Inheritors, Aerinon. There are very few people capable of forcing us to remain anywhere. If one of us truly wished to leave, to disappear or even to rebel..."
She shook her head once.
"Very few could stop us." Her eyes lingered on him. "I know your first thought would be Ingrid." There was understanding in her voice. "You’d worry about leaving her behind. You’d worry about what might happen to her."
She nodded slightly.
"That’s only natural, but she’s strong. Strong enough to stand on her own. You don’t need to stay simply because you’re afraid for her safety."
Aerinon listened in silence.
When she finished, he spoke just as calmly as before.
"This is simply the most convenient course."
Rowena looked at him for several seconds, then the smallest smile crossed her face. Not one of amusent, more so one of understanding.
"Hm, I suppose that’s exactly what makes you who you are." Like many things Rowena said, it seed to carry more aning than the words themselves revealed.
Aerinon regarded her briefly.
"You really shouldn’t speak like that," she added after a mont.
His lone eye shifted toward her.
"Why not?"
The question was imdiate and entirely sincere; he wasn’t even challenging her.
He simply didn’t understand.
Rowena held his gaze.
"I think," she replied quietly, "you already know the answer."
Silence settled between them once again; their footsteps continued down the corridor.
Aerinon considered her words.
Perhaps...
Perhaps he did know.
Or perhaps he had known for longer than he realized and simply never found reason to put the thought into words.
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