***
The day seemed to fly by too fast, but for Saint, it was fine. The morning had been too cheery with the mood he found himself waking up with. And the rest of the day’s usual routine had been just a tad too cheerful as well. As soon as he’d been dismissed of his duties in the infirmary, he found himself wanting some solitude from the hustle and bustle of the world around him. Now he was alone, sitting on a bench in one of the smaller training grounds, empty of any soul who would have used it at some other time of the day.
He thought back to the shenanigans that had happened today. The joking banters, the smiles and laughter, the practical jokes that oddly ended up causing some property damage- but that was a normal event for this guild-... somehow he found them all irritating today.
How ironic. He thought, chewing thoughtfully on a piece of Mastela Fruit he stole from the pantry earlier. I’m supposed to be a cheerful bastard all the time. But it wasn’t a surprising revelation to him. Not anymore.
Because today, if Fate had been even a little merciful to him, he would have been spending it together with someone he loved. But they were nothing more but mere fragments of a distant memory and nothing more.
Saint let out a groan, ruffling his own hair. Aesirs, I need to stop thinking about this.
He was actually looking forward to a night’s worth of sneaking out to one of the bars in Geffen, perhaps with an added bonus of challenging a few men to a good drinking contest and fooling them into paying for his drinks. Oh yeah, that seemed just about the most wonderful agenda to do for tonight--
The priest suddenly sensed a presence in his spot, looking up to see familiar black hair, blue eyes and a chunk load of armour standing just a few feet away from him. If he took time to observe, they would have been sharing the same passive expression. Almost. She approached him with measured steps, never once faltering until she stood a respective distance away from him.
Kiara. Odin, that woman sure was something. And she had a strange knack of finding people too. He also blamed Fate for this, for forcing him to put up with this woman as his babysitter for who knows how long. Then again, it wasn’t as bad as he anticipated it would. She was level-headed, calm and sane. Traits that he appreciated without really having to voice it out because well, he just didn’t tolerate senselessness as much as he used to.
“Here.” She held out a package to him, an arm’s length away. Her face was still a mask of apathy he wondered if she had ever really laughed at all in her whole life.
Saint looked curiously at the wrapped box held before him, before looking eye to eye with the crusader. “What’s this?”
Kiara cleared her throat. “Just open it.” She simply told him, refusing to meet the priest’s eyes as he shot a suspicious look at her before taking the box. It was wrapped in simple brown paper, held together by a long dark string. He placed the package beside him, untying the string and tearing the paper off as he quickly lifted the lid off it. His eyes grew wide at the bladed mace lying snugly amongst the dark cloth around it. In all honesty, anyone would have been surprised to receive something like this, much more in an elaborately designed box that looked like it would have cost almost half of what the item was.
“This is...” His voice trailed off into a surprised silence.
The crusader sighed, sounding a little irritated with his surprise. “I thought it might be time to retire the old one. It’s seen a lot of use and the blade is getting too dull. It wouldn’t do very well for sparring or fending yourself, you understand.” She explained, shrugging. “I mean, you don’t seem to be noticing that it was getting too chipped even for a whitesmith to fully repair it. I understand that it might be worth something to you, but it won’t help you defend yourself now as effective as it used to.”
The man had gone silent, too silent from what the young woman pegged him to be. By now, he would have been making his most dramatic reaction, gesturing with his hands in such a way that was his trademark. Seeing the man slightly hunched over the unwrapped package with clearly no radiant expression on his face, that was something new.
“... Don’t bother paying me back for it.” She quickly spoke, covering up her curiosity and concern. “Consider it a gift if you want.” Almost immediately, the man’s head snapped up.
“A... gift? You mean like a present?” His voice was small, somehow disbelieving and forced from his throat.
“What else would it be? A death threat?” She snapped, suddenly feeling regretful that she had even hoped he would have the sense to know what a gift was. She would have given him another quick retort, hadn’t he suddenly laughed, continuing on and on and growing ever louder with every passing second. She took a step back, wary of the man suddenly.
Did she do something wrong? Surely he wouldn’t be laughing this hard at her if she hadn’t done something remotely amusing to his sense of humor. Despite the confusion, she was close, so close to socking the guy in the head. But she chose to hold it down for a little while longer and asked, “Do you find something funny with what I said?”
“No! I mean, no... it’s just that...” He took a moment to breathe and calm himself. “It’s just that you’ve got such impeccable timing. You’re something else you know that?” A genuine smile played across the man’s face.
She blinked rapidly, now openly curious with this. This wasn’t the first time someone told her something along that statement, but it was still enough to catch her interest. “... Impeccable timing?”
The priest nodded. He returned the lid on the box and stood, closing the distance between the crusader and him. Before Kiara could process what was going on, he hugged her, smiling and laughing his thanks despite the fact that she couldn’t understand how he could be so happy with receiving a weapon. Actually, she could understand, but to be on this level of bliss? She would never understand the priest. At all.
“Actually... I would have bought myself a new one, but since you oh so volunteered to give me one as a present—”
“Wait, you mean you were chipping it that badly so someone could give you a new one?” She interrupted him, pushing the man away from her with a glare.
“I like presents. What can I say?” He laughed, scratching the bridge of his nose sheepishly. I would have held onto it until the end of time. Was what he wanted to say but decided not to. He grinned again, crossing his arms over his chest and looked down at her with amused, forest green eyes.
“You’re sweet, Blue. Admit it.” He looked at her, watching as her cheeks took on a light shade of pink. That was until she snorted and flicked his nose with one half-gloved finger. “Like Hell I’ll ever be sweet to you, manipulative idiotic priest.”
“Now that name calling actually cancelled itself. How can I be manipulative if I’m supposed to be dumb?”
This man is toying with me! Her mind screamed. Not wanting to cause another scene, because she was certain that the man was masochistic by nature, she spun on her heels and stomped away fuming and trying to control her desire to throw something at his head.
“Forget that I even bothered trying to be civil with him.” She muttered to herself.
“Hey Blue!” His voice called her but she continued on. Either way he continued, “It’s my birthday today! Thank you for the present... really!” The priest watched as she turned the corner and disappeared. Kiara certainly didn’t acknowledge that she heard him, but Saint was sure she heard him nonetheless.
He turned his eyes back to the half open box, eyeing the beautiful piece of blade in it.
Replacing the old with the new... eh?
Maybe... He touched the hilt of the swordmace, trailing one finger across it. Maybe he won’t be going to Geffen tonight after all.
END ENTRY.
No comments:
Post a Comment