Chapter 10: Act I Chapter 10: Cold

Chapter 10: Cold

Raynor’s house was larger than Enya and Nadine’s. There was a cozy living room at the entryway, and from there the room split into three parts leading to the dining room, kitchen, and a longer hallway lined with bedrooms. The wood was a darker, redder color, and there were far more lamps than Nadine or Enya ever bothered with. All the times Enya had been over in the past, she’d always thought it was a warm place.

At that moment, sitting at the table listening to the sound of Callan silently scribbling in his notebook, Enya didn’t find the place welcoming at all. Her eyes drifted over to the old grandfather clock sitting across from the fireplace; it was an hour past when Raynor had said he and Altair would be back. She returned her attention to Callan, who hadn’t spoken a word to her since he’d returned from school. He kept his head down, writing away, and Enya vaguely thought that the boy resembled Altair a lot more than he did his older brother. But then, perhaps that shouldn’t be a surprise. Altair had spent a significant amount of time looking after him ever since Raynor had begun Paragon training. She swallowed, turning to look at the clock again, then back, unsure of how to breach the silence. So instead, she simply sat there, waiting with increasing discomfort.

The light that filtered through the window burned as evening settled. The red hues in the furniture became even more prominent, and Enya wondered if she should try and make something for dinner. She wasn’t the best cook, but she didn’t plan on letting Callan starve, either. She stood, about to head over to the kitchen. The moment she turned away, however, the front door slammed open.

“Move.” 

Enya barely had time to step aside as Altair practically charged through the living room. Her eyes widened when she recognized Raynor being half carried, half dragged inside. His skin had lost its warmth, the lines on his face sharp and harsh under the the sharp light of the setting sun. His eyes were half closed in the manner of someone in between dreaming and reality, but he still turned his head slightly over to Callan and gave a weak smile and wave. “We’re back,” he said. His voice was hoarse.

“Shut up and rest, you crazy bastard,” Altair interrupted, not slowing down as he continued to speed away towards the bedrooms. Enya heard the scraping of wood and turned to see Callan had stood from his chair. Her eyes darted between the boy and the two, who were entering the hallway. Inhaling, she turned to Callan. “Stay here,” she instructed.

“But—“

“Stay.” Enya fixed him with a hard gaze, and the boy scowled, but sat down, though his eyes kept drifting over to where Raynor and Altair had disappeared. Once she was certain that Callan was keeping his word, Enya hurried out the living room, finding the door to Raynor’s bedroom swung open.

She stepped inside, stopping at the doorway. Raynor was sitting on the bed, looking smaller than she’d ever seen him, and Altair was tossing blankets from the stack that had been lying on the desk in preparation. “Really, I’m fine,” Raynor was saying, and Enya realized with a start that his hands were shaking slightly. He was shivering. Altair continued as though he hadn’t heard him. If anything, he just became more aggressive as he chucked a pillow straight at the man’s face with a glare. 

“Go to sleep,” he said, voice utterly cold before he spun around in a sharp motion and made his way out the room, not listening to Raynor’s protests. Enya barely got out of the way in time, hurrying out herself with another glance cast over at the man before the door was slammed shut behind them. 

Once they were in the hallway, Altair released a long breath and slumped back against the door. Perhaps it was that sight that finally snapped Enya out of whatever trance had temporarily taken hold. She glanced over at the closed door, hiding Raynor from view, then back to Altair. “How is he?” she asked, voice quiet.

Altair just shook his head. His pale hair fell messily in front of his face, obscuring his expression. Enya thought she heard him say something, so she stepped closer. He sighed and rubbed his forehead.

“They said it’s normal,” he muttered. “He’ll feel less tired in a couple hours, after the fucker finally sleeps.” He clenched his fist, glaring down at the wooden floor panels. “But his body’s temperature regulation is never going to be the same. He went through three quarters of his magic.”

Enya’s jaw clenched. “Was that on purpose, or…?”

Altair snorted. “It was on purpose.” His eyes darkened. “Crazy bastard.” He rubbed his head. “What the hell is so good about being a Paragon, anyway,” he muttered. “What’s so amazing about dying when you’re thirty and fighting a bunch of monsters that just keep coming. Is it fun ‘saving’ a bunch of destroyed villages?” Altair shook his head. “Is it the glory? The dumb stories?” He tugged at his hair. “Or are you really all just such good and selfless people that you don’t give a shit?” 

The moment he finished speaking, it was like a string had been snapped. His body, drawn tense and taught, collapsed in on itself as he slid down to the ground, face buried in his hands. He looked fragile, tired; not a trace of the burning anger and fire from before lingered on his weary frame. She should say something, Enya thought. Do something comforting.

But how could she? Any assurances she gave would be lies. The Rite couldn’t be reversed. She swallowed the lump that was quickly forming in her throat. All she could say was a hoarse, “I’m sorry.”

The two were silent, Enya standing, staring down at Altair’s unmoving form. Through the door, she could hear an occasional cough, a shifting of fabric. 

“…Just go,” Altair finally said. He dropped his hands, and the look in his eyes was one of utter defeat. “Just go. He’s not gonna wake up for another few hours anyway.” He stood, movements clumsy as he visibly pulled himself back together. “Besides, I don’t think he wants a lot of people around anyway,” he said. 

How bad, Enya wondered, had it been just after the Rite was over? Her eyes drifted over to Altair, who didn’t look like he planned to move away from the doorway anytime soon. She swallowed and spun on her heel, slowly stepping down the hallway, away from the room.

When she entered the living room, Callan jumped up, and Enya numbly wondered just how much he’d overheard. The boy ran up, grabbing her shirt. “Is he okay? I heard—“

You are reading story Remember the Red at novel35.com

“Callan,” Enya interrupted. She crouched down so that she was eye level with the boy, keeping her expression neutral. “How about we go over to my place for dinner? I’ll ask Nadine to make your favorite.”

“But—“

“Callan,” Enya said again, sharper, and he must’ve seen something in her eyes, because after a few moments of hesitation, he slowly nodded and turned to grab his coat. Enya watched as he pulled it on, her mind drifting unbidden. Buried under those blankets, Raynor had looked so eerily similar to Maren. Maren, lying perfectly still on the bed, even her smile small and tight as she stared up at Nadine and Enya. Her dark hair sprayed out, earrings hanging motionless. The image replayed over and over again in her mind. When Callan came back up to the door, his coat on, Enya shook the thoughts away and offered a hand. “Let’s go.”

—

Dinner was a stilted affair. Nadine’s eyes had widened when she’d opened the creaking door and seen Enya and Callan, but she’d pursed her lips and let them inside without protest. She hadn’t been speaking much to Enya lately; she could still remember those dull eyes from the previous night, and Enya wondered if her sister was ignoring her. Nadine remained silent as she pulled out a metal pot and carried it over to the stove, beginning to cook. Enya kept glancing her way as she set the table. 

“Here.” A few minutes later, Nadine set a plate of food down in front of Callan, and it made a soft clink as it hit the table. The boy barely reacted, and Enya’s stomach twisted. She should’ve said more to him. She hadn’t even told him that Raynor was alright. 

Nadine sighed and sat down across from him. “Listen, kid, can I talk to you?” There was a gentleness to her voice that Enya hadn’t heard from her in a long time. But then, Nadine had always been better with kids than she was.

Just as the thought occurred, Nadine’s gaze shifted over to her, and she nearly took a step back. Her sister’s eyes were sharp, burning, and Enya swallowed before scooping up her own plate and exiting the room. She wasn’t welcome there, those eyes had said. She understood. It was better this way; she didn’t know how to comfort people to begin with, and Callan had always liked Nadine more.

Enya stepped out the back door, quietly shutting it behind her. The last traces of light were fading, and the tips of the swaying grasses glowed softly, clinging to that lingering glow. A gust of wind rushed past, and Enya pulled her cloak closer to her as she stared down at the plate of food. She set it down by the door. She’d eat it later, when she felt hungry.

Stepping further into the grasses, Enya’s eyes trailed over the forest behind the house. Maybe she could get some training in on her own, she thought. She scanned the ground, spotting a grey rock that she unwedged from the soil. It felt solid in her hands, and her fingers began to glow red as she considered what shape to warp it into. Her eyes stared at her rippling aura, and her eyes widened in realization. The magic faded and she clenched her fist. She turned, resolutely walking back onto the street and towards Raynor’s house.

When she reached it, the front door was unlocked, and she found Altair sitting at the table with a book. He was staring at it, not really reading, and he hadn’t bothered to light any of the lamps, either. He blinked, brow furrowing when she stepped inside. “Enya what the fuck?”

She ignored him. “Is Raynor still awake?”

“Probably. What’re you doing back here?“

She ignored him, striding across the living room and carefully opening the door to Raynor’s room. He was indeed awake, sitting up against the headboard and buried under so many blankets that only his eyes were visible. He blinked blearily, confusion evident as Enya entered the room.

“I could do a magic transfer,” she said without preamble, voice blunt. His eyes widened, and Enya continued. “I have enough to do it, and—“ she paused, hesitating. She couldn’t mention Wren or the Arks. The statement sputtered out, losing steam and leaving a long silence to fall over the room. It was strange, Enya thought distantly, to just see Raynor’s eyes and not the rest of him. Finally, the man sighed.

“Thank you, but I’m fine. I chose this. I’m not going to go back on being a Paragon now. I thought you understood that.” His voice was tired, holding the aged weariness of someone a decade older. The blanket slipped a little, revealing the rest of his face, and he cast a small smile in her direction. “Besides, I’m not brave enough to quit.”

Enya’s shoulders slumped a little. Deep down, she’d known he would never agree, but she’d had to at least say something. If not for him, then for her own sake. “I see,” she muttered. “Sorry for disturbing you. Get some sleep. Nadine’s watching Callan right now so you don’t have to worry about him.”

Raynor nodded gratefully, and from the corner of her eye, she once again noticed the slight, ever present shivering. As she stepped through the doorway, she flared her magic. Red glowed around her and wove around the walls, filling the room with warmth. She clicked the door shut and found herself face to face with Altair. He just shook his head, having heard the whole conversation. 

“Sixth bless your travels,” he muttered. 

Her voice was hoarse as she responded. “And may the Second bless your kindness.”

A sharp wind blew past as she stepped out the door. Her hair flared out in the wind, and a few street lamps flickered. Darkness had settled over the village, and the streets were empty and silent. Enya grit her teeth and walked faster, eager to get away from the cold.

You can find story with these keywords: Remember the Red, Read Remember the Red, Remember the Red novel, Remember the Red book, Remember the Red story, Remember the Red full, Remember the Red Latest Chapter