Chapter 457: Chapter 454: Tea with Friends

Chapter 454: Tea with Friends

 

  Sweet.

  The honey swirling in the hot tea was sweet. Its scent wafted up in the steam, tantalizing the nostrils.

  “It’s good, right?” Plum asked excitedly.

  “Hm? Yeah… It’s nice.” Stryg nodded distractedly and sipped his tea.

  “Too sweet?”

  “No, it’s fine.” He could taste the honey on his tongue, but it felt inferior to the sweetness he had experienced when savoring Tauri’s blood a few hours ago.

  He glanced at the lovely orc sitting cross-legged across the short round table. The perpetual glower on her face and unending silence made him think she was still angry about what happened, though truth be told he was never good at reading others’ emotions.

  Tauri had kicked him when she had come to after having her blood drunk. Things only got worse when she stubbed her toe against his hard shin. She had stomped off, well, more like limped away, while muttering curses at him. She was definitely angry at him, then again, she did come to Plum’s room at the drow’s invitation, knowing Stryg would be there as well. So perhaps she wasn’t angry after all?

  “What do you think, Tauri?” Plum asked.

  Tauri put her ceramic cup down and shrugged. “...I’m not much of an admirer of tea."

  “Maybe if you added a bit of honey?” Stryg offered.

  Tauri slapped his hand away and hissed.

  Stryg froze. On one hand, he was shocked that she had actually hissed at him. On the other hand, he was very much aroused by it.

  Plum, already used to Stryg and Aurelia hissing at everyone, didn’t bat an eye, and instead nodded sagely, “You say that now, Tauri, but you just haven’t tasted the right tea. Virella has been showing me her tea collection and it’s amazing! Not even the lords of Hollow Shade have such an extensive collection!”

  Tauri winced empathetically, “I’ve had more tea than I can count. Every time we had a guest over at the mansion, every morning and afternoon social event ever since I could walk. I would rather have a bottle of wine and ignore all those pleasantries.”

  Plum snapped her fingers. “Ah-hah! So you prefer the strong stuff.”

  “I guess?” Tauri admitted begrudgingly.

  Plum smirked. “I told you, Virella has been showing me her collection, and no one beats out the Silver Mother when it comes to herbs, no one. Leave it to a Red-Green mage to brew the best teas.”

  “What does that mean?” Tauri asked, mildly worried.

  “Oh, nothing. Nothing at all,” Plum said while rummaging through a cabinet Virella had so graciously gifted her. “Ah, here it is!” She pulled out a small jar; inside were dried black flower petals.

  “What’s that?” Tauri asked.

  Plum grinned, “The strong stuff.” She popped the jar open and poured them into the steaming teapot hanging over the fire.

  “Are you sure that’s— safe…?”

  Plum blinked. “Totally.” She grabbed the steaming pot and poured a bit of the dark purple liquid into Tauri’s and Stryg’s cups.

  “Why so little?” Stryg asked curiously.

  “Oh, trust me, you don’t want a lot. Or you’ll start seeing a lot of weeeird stuff,” Plum said.

  “Right…” Tauri eyed the cup warily. “I don’t think we should be drinking this— Stryg! What are you doing?”

  Stryg downed the hot steaming cup in a single gulp. “Huh? What? I thought we were supposed to drink it?”

  Tauri frowned. “Are you alright? Any weird effects?”

  “Um, I don’t think so?” he said.

  Plum leaned towards Tauri, “The real question you should be asking is why isn’t his throat burned?”

  “You’re right,” Tauri wrinkled her brow and glanced at the cup. “The tea is piping hot.”

  Plum wiggled her fingers and waved her hands in the air, “The ~mysteries of Stryg~ or as I like to call it, my friend’s fucking weird.”

  “You sure this tea is alright?” Tauri asked.

  “Definitely, I’ve had it multiple times,” Plum nodded.

  “...I’m gonna regret this,” Tauri mumbled and took a tentative sip. She licked her lips and cocked her head to the side, “Huh…” She took a few more sips and nodded to herself. “You know, it’s not actually half-bad.”

  “Yeah, and just wait until the magical properties kick in!” Plum said with a grin.

  “Wait? What did you just say?” Tauri glared at her.

  “Oh! I forgot the pie! I left it in the kitchens.” Plum jumped to her feet. “Be right back!” 

  “Wait, Plum! What was that about—!”

  The door slammed shut.

  “—Magical properties…” Tauri finished dejectedly.

  *Slurp* Stryg sipped a second cup of tea while eyeing Tauri.

  “Do you know what’s in that?” she asked.

  “Nope.”

  “Then why are you still drinking it!?”

  He shrugged. “I dunno, what else am I supposed to drink?”

  Tauri stiffened at his words and unconsciously touched her shoulder. They looked at each other and she blushed furiously and glared at him. “Do I got something on my face?”

  “No,” he said innocently.

  “Then stop staring,” she snapped.

  Stryg’s eyes wandered away, down, and to the ceramic cup in his hands. “Wanna talk about it?”

  “About Plum’s stupid ideas for relaxing before heading to war?” Tauri clenched her fists, “I swear I’m going to wring her little neck when she gets back.”

  “...How are you feeling?”

  “What?”

  “I mean, after the loss of blood and—”

  “I know what you meant. I just don’t know why you’re asking it. Obviously, I’m not feeling well.”

  “Are you feeling light-headed? Cold? In pain?” Stryg asked worriedly.

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  “No.” She shook her head. “No, I’m fine. Your healing spells worked, it’s just…” She bit her lip, “What happened when you were… drinking my… ugh.” She shivered and rubbed her shoulders, “It feels weird even thinking about it.”

  “I hurt you,” Stryg realized, horrified. He had never meant to hurt her, but he knew a vampire’s bite didn’t always numb the target, some people were simply resistant, and he had so little vampire blood in him that his fangs probably had little effect at all. “I’m sorry,” he swallowed the lump in his throat. “I never meant to—”

  “No, no, it wasn’t like that,” Tauri said reassuringly.

  Stryg furrowed his brow. “Then what was it?”

  “It felt… good,” she admitted abashedly.

  “Oh… Isn’t that good…?”

  “No, that’s terrible. I lost control, you lost control.” Tauri stared at her hands and balled them into fists, “I don’t wanna lose control of myself like that...”

  “You’ve never been drunk?”

  “That’s not the same thing.”

  “Pretty similar.”

  “Yeah, well, when I’m drunk I’m not trying to shove my tongue down your throat!”

  “Well, in that case, I have good news for you. I’ve seen drunk people at taverns do that all the time,” Stryg smiled.

  “Not me! I’m Tauri of the goddamned House of Katag! I’m not supposed to get drunk and lose myself! I’m supposed to be strong, always in control of my own desires. We’re not supposed to let ourselves be ruled by our emotions, otherwise, people get killed! I need to be better than that. That’s what it means to be a Katag!” 

  Stryg suddenly remembered the stories of the Katags he had heard during his stay at their mansion in Undergrowth. “The blood of true Browns runs in your family, but you’re not a berserker like your father. Just because you lose control doesn’t mean people will die.”

  Tauri clenched her eyes shut. “...The last time I lost control of my emotions I charged through Widow’s Crag in search of Aizel’s killer. I helped convince Loh to ignore you and the other students while we went off and not only failed to kill Aizel’s murderer, but had almost our entire squad killed.”

  “And you think losing control when I drink your blood might cause something like that to happen again?” Stryg asked quietly.

  “Not just the blood. Everything. With you.” She ran her hand through her black hair. “I don’t know… When I’m with you I don’t know what’s going to happen. Everything is just so chaotic.” She sighed and slumped her shoulders, “I don’t know what am I even supposed to do.”

  Stryg reached over the table and grasped her hand, “I don’t either. But,” he smiled weakly, “At least when I’m with you, it feels like it’ll be okay.”

  “Stryg…” Her pupils slowly widened until they covered her amber irises completely. “Oh shiiit. Stryg, everything is shaking. Why am I sinking into the floor!?”

  Stryg watched, confused, as she flailed her arms about and fell on the floor. “...I think the tea is working.”

  “Why is there a bunny on the table?”

  “They’re isn’t.” He picked her up into his arms and carried her over to Plum’s bed.

  She grabbed his cheeks and stretched them. “Why are you so cute?”

  “Thanks?” he tried to smile.

  “You’re cute. Like a girl. Are you cuter than me? That’s not fair.”

  “I’m gonna ignore that,” he grumbled, and not for the first time he wished he could grow facial hair, even a thin mustache would have been enough.

  Stryg laid her down on the bed and lay next to her. 

  “The ceiling is on fire!” she pointed shakily.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll protect you.” He wrapped his arm around her and she nestled her head over his chest. 

  “But the fire,” she whispered like a co-conspirator.

  “Just close your eyes. Sleep will do us both some good.”

  Tauri kept whispering nonsensical words and Stryg mumbled along with closed eyes. After a few minutes, the world’s noises faded away and Stryg fell asleep, the fatigue of the last few days finally claiming him.

 

~~~

 

  Stryg walked under the scarlet canopy of Vulture Woods while humming a cheerful tune. His arms ached and there were blisters on his fingers but they were minor inconveniences that could not dampen his mood. Today he had hit 10 out of 10 targets in bow practice, the only 16-year-old besides Srixa to manage it. The hunter in charge was impressed and had even given Stryg a compliment.

  The other teenagers, on the other hand, had given him a look of envy. Yet, Stryg couldn’t help but beam with pride. He didn’t care if it might cause him trouble later, he had finally done it! He was finally on his path to becoming the tribe’s greatest hunter.

  He couldn’t wait to tell Lunae, so when the others had left for dinner, he had sneaked out of the village. 

  The trail to Lunae was always different. She rarely stayed in one place and preferred to wander through the forest. Why? He had asked her many times, but she had never given him a particularly meaningful or satisfactory answer.

  As he walked, Stryg munched on an apple that he had stashed away from the village’s storehouse.

  Birds chirped in the canopy and the occasional vulture squawked in the distance. A black fox scurried past and disappeared under a bush. The breeze blew quiet through the woods. Stryg closed his eyes, relaxed his shoulders, and listened for the melody of the forest. He knew the melody’s pattern, ever-shifting so slightly yet in tandem with the forest, like the land changing seasons.

  It was easy to get lost in the overflowing melody. Stryg couldn’t pinpoint a precise note in the endless song flowing past him, but he could tell where something was off. A hollow spot among the notes, where the melody shifted around instead of flowing through, Lunae. She lived in the forest but she wasn’t a part of the forest, her own existence was set apart from the rest.

  Stryg tried to listen for her notes, her piece in the song, but he could never quite tell what it was. He could never directly listen for her, but he could listen for the dissonance of the forest’s melody that always surrounded her.

  It took a little longer than usual, but he found the dissonance in the melody, and to his surprise, it was much closer than usual. Not far from the village at all, almost as if—

  Stryg smiled wide. Lunae already knew. She had been watching him. She had seen him score each target. His smile broadened and he ran to her. The wind hit his face as the trees passed by. The songs of the birds slowly disappeared one by one and the breeze died in the air.

  “Lunae—!” He suddenly ran into a clearing and stumbled to a halt. 

  Shattered trees speckled the clearing and thick dark blood soaked the charred ground. An amethyst dragon or what was left of it lay still in the dirt. Its wings had been torn apart and its chest had been ripped open, broken ribs protruding from the bleeding cavity. The dragon’s serpentine neck was twisted and bent back. Its jaw was ripped off, hanging only by a loose string of flesh. The once brilliant deep purple eyes were now glazed over.

  Atop the dragon sat a teenage girl. She wasn’t a goblin, no, Stryg had never seen anyone like her. She had warm brown skin and pale snow-white hair and she was covered in specks of blood.

  The teenage girl was looking down at a small fox on her lap, casually chatting away as if it were an ordinary day and a dragon wasn’t lying dead underneath them. 

  The girl abruptly stopped talking and looked up at the goblin child standing at the treeline frozen like a deer.

  She narrowed her ever-changing iridescent eyes and her red lips slowly curled in a smirk. “Well, hello there.”

  Stryg took a trembling step back. “Y-You’re not Lunae…”

  “No. No, I’m not,” Caligo chuckled. “And what might you be?”

 

 

 

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