20demayo 5-47 Drivel
5-47 Drivel
5-47 Drivel
Erin forewent any thoughts of exploring and headed straight back to the guild to turn in the quest. After her encounter with the supposed Apostle of Chronos, Erin had become high-strung, wary of anyone. She had become infamous, she realised. News and information travelled far too quickly in this world. If Amelia’s words held any truth, the whole continent most probably knew of her by now.
Erin’s mood soured at that notion. Fame was often seen as a boon but only to people of a green mind. Fame only made one a target to those who sought to reave others of their wealth, and those people were just the least dangerous of the ones who gathered around fame-ridden individuals. The most dangerous ones were those who hid their intentions under the guise of amity or a guise that invokes one’s sympathy.
As Erin paid more attention to her surroundings than before, the nuance and subtleties she picked on were concerning and disturbing. Though she had long since accustomed herself to the gazes of lechers, their desires and pheromones were a different experience. It made her stomach churn when she took notice of the small tents pitched under them. Even some women and girls were no different. Fluids trickle down their legs in streams as thin as the finest reeds.
The cloud moved. The shadows shifted. A drunken man passed out in an alley, stirred from the small change of illumination. That faint movement alone pricked at Erin’s senses like a needle stuck into one’s buttocks. She flinched but only a slight twitch in the eyes of the untrained.
“What is it?” Lyra asked.
“Kyu?” Ruri tilted, seeming to be asking the same question given the eyes wrought with worry.
“Nothing,” Erin said. “A mistake on my end. Just the day moving closer to night but I took it for a heralding of an ambush.”
“That’s not nothing, Erin.” Nivia, who had been walking behind the two, strode up beside Erin. “Wary of shadows during the day is not a sign of a sound mind. You need to temper your vigilance.”
“My vigilance is tempered enough. We do not know who or where the enemies are but they do. We are at a huge disadvantage.”
Lyra glanced around. Her eyes could see further and clearer than everyone else in her party. However, she was unable to see past the surface. When she looked at the half-naked brawny man with scars all over his body, she saw only his lustful gaze but whatever was hidden beneath that simple desire, she couldn’t say. “We can just treat anyone as enemies until they prove otherwise.”
Ruri nodded at Lyra’s words.
“That’s a foolish idea,” Nivia rebuked. “We will make ourselves utterly mad with that kind of extreme prudence on anyone that we come across.”
“The divines were merciful with our encounter with that apostle. If she meant us harm, we would have and Erin would have been sickened with grief.”
“Be that as it may, casting suspicions on everyone is not the way. The Spirits will guide us.”
Lyra snorted and rolled her eyes. “They sure are helpful with the Apostle.”
“That’s different. They were in the presence of divinity. They are unable to judge presence tinged with divinity unless the individual is absolutely hostile with every intention in their bones to harm you.”
“I’m sure the Spirits will be very helpful in sensing out enemies in the days to come.”
“You need not be sardonic with me, Lyra. The Spirits are not perfect but they are better than casting suspicions on anyone we cross paths with.”
Erin ignored the bickering between the two that had become all too common and continued in casting her vigilance all over her surroundings. She didn’t notice it before but there were people stalking her. It wasn’t new to her, to be stalked. However, these stalkers were unlike any other. They blended well with the other onlookers. Their gazes appeared to be offhanded but upon scrutiny, a few of these gazes had a rhythm to them. No passing gazes would ever have a rhythm unless they were to look unpremeditated.
There were lots of drunkards in the streets. Some stumbled their way around and some collapsed in places that were most ill-suited to be sleeping in. The former were the ones Erin was most wary of, or so she thought. There was a drunkard on the ground, leaning against a lamp pole. He was in rags. His face flushed with the alcohol he drowned himself in. His gaze was wandering but every once in a while, his gaze would, without fail, glide past Erin.
Along a certain part of the stretched-out street, there was a small gathering. Gamblers, making do with their games on overturned boxes or barrels. A young man was amongst them. He was dressed in garbs that weren’t too fancy but certainly fancier than the company he surrounded himself with. Just across from him, a middle-aged man was playing against him. The old man would cast cursory glances around him as if to stave off his frustration of the losing game but Erin knew better.
“Say, Erin, where are we going anyways?” Lyra asked. The bickering seemed to have stopped and Nivia trailed behind her with a scowl. The winner of the pitiful quarrel was apparent.
“We need to find Aedan and regroup with the rest.”
“How are we going to find him? Do we even know where he went with Lilian?”
“I do.”
“He told you?”
“No.”
“Ugh, by the Spirits!” Nivia uttered upon entering the room, pinching her nose. “Can’t you at least open the windows?”
Aedan titered and took a seat by the window that he promptly opened to let the fresh air in. “Then the spell would break and the whole town would hear Lilian’s cries.”
“Great. Now I’m aroused,” said Lyra, eyeing Erin lustfully.
“Where’s Aera?” Erin asked when she finally took her mind off of the utterly satisfied Lilian.
“She went out to fetch us some water,” Aedan answered.
Erin raised an eyebrow. “You did nothing to Aera?”
“I gave her as much love as I gave Lilian.”
“Lilian’s sleeping like a log and Aera is still fine to be walking around?”
“She’s a surprise for sure. She’s got quite the stamina. If she wasn’t so mortified by her own lust, I say we would still be going at it now.”
Erin rolled her eyes.
“What’s wrong?” Aedan tilted his head. “I took you for the envious type but not the jealous type.”
Amyra sat down beside Aedan, on the floor. “We are famous, that’s what’s wrong.”
“Ah, I see.” That was all Aedan needed to hear. “Who are the annoying shits this time?”
“I bumped into the Rust faith,” answered Amyra.
“That can’t be good,” Aedan muttered.
“And also Chronos,” said Erin. “An Apostle of Chronos is who we met, or so she claimed.”
“Chronos? That’s unexpected.” The name seemed to prick at Aedan’s mind.
“I’m sensing a history there.”
“The Divine of Aeon, or in simpler terms, the god of time.”
“We figured,” Lyra grumbled.
“Aeryo and Chronos were— are siblings, in a sense.”
“In a sense?”
“Their concept of family is different from us mortals. They don’t exactly fuck and then birth out their legacy. It’s something different but that’s beside the point.”
“Does this mean Aeryo has the power to control time too?” Nivia inquired.
“No. Neither Aeryo nor Chronos were born with the powers they have now. It is something they acquired or inherited. Aeryo and Chronos were once a single faith under the guidance of two Divines.”
“What happened? Sibling quarrels?”
Aedan nodded. “To put it lightly, yes. And that quarrel led to a fight between two Divines. No one won or lost. It was a draw. However, Aeryo suffered the most wounds and those wounds are the reason that the throne of the Dragon God is now vacant.”