Good Night

A/N: Project-[A]esir fanfic. Because it's been a while since I've written anything about them and then some. And I'm getting some drive to write, which is a good thing.

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Outside somewhere in the silent hallway, the mantle clock signaled midnight, just as the resident chapel's bells could be faintly heard, mingling with the distant rumbling of the waves.

He'd been awake for a while. That was why he knew what time it was.

As quietly as he could, he slipped out of bed, padding towards the chair that had his robes draped over it. He pulled on the first, black and sleeveless, before slipping on the second, white and decked in red and gold. Donning the now familiar uniform of a High Priest, he gave himself a once over in the nearby mirror.

Nothing out of place. Hair mussed up from his light sleep but it would-- Through the mirror, he saw the lone occupant of the bed shifting. He stilled, carefully watching as the figure tossed about for a moment before calming. He let out a breath he hadn't realize he'd been holding.

Why did he fear that he'd wake her? He'd worn her out a few hours ago, wrestling and rolling about before ending the night with intense cuddling (She never wanted to call it any other way).

Maybe because if she would wake and see him all dressed up, he would have crumpled and been unable to explain himself? Possible. Certainly. He was a man and had his own share of weaknesses.

You know you can still turn back. He could almost hear his brother's voice, berating and pleading with him. True, he could have simply refused and climbed back into bed. But that was a him that existed in another time and place. Not that one that existed here and now. There was too much at stake should he turn back.

And yet that voice continued to plead with him in that voice that haunted his dreams and nightmares for years. Or perhaps it was his guilt making him think this.

Aniki. He would have replied, I've already sealed my fate the moment I let them escape. I will not allow another loss.

He was going to silence them, even if the final price to pay would be the forfeit of his life. They would never find out about this secret world, built on years of trust and love. They will not chain another life to the heinous deeds that their kingdom was built on. He may not be able to fulfill the latter, but he could be a factor that would cripple them.

With those thoughts in mind, he moved fast. Taking the combat knife from the desktop, he slipped it into his pocket. He took his swordmace that leaned against the wall, attaching it to the belt that hung snugly around his waist, between the two layers of his robes. He slipped on his socks and shoes and then looked around. The evil wing headband lay untouched on the table on his bedside, but he made no move to take it.

He would be leaving it behind.

Everything else seemed to be in order. All the other necessities lay packed in the bag by the door. He took a moment to breath, to commit this last night to his memory. At last, he moved to kneel beside the woman curled up against a pillow clutched tightly in her arms.

He brushed away the hair from her face. Like a man condemned to the gallows on the morrow he imprinted in his memory every minute spent with her, every touch and laughter shared between them. The darkness of her soft hair, the peaceful expression that came over her as she slept, the way her chest rose and fell gently as breathe passed through her slightly parted lips. And that smile, that rare smile that always stilled his heart in a grip of euphoria.

All these would end tonight. He thought with heartbreaking clarity.

Even if this were the the only memory that would play before he crossed to the farthest end, it would not matter. He could live with it. He had no more regrets, save for this unwilling abandonment.

He bent over her, running his thumb over her cheek before closing the distance between their lips.

In that short moment, he wished time could have slowed. Wished that time could have altered and granted him a miracle. But as he pulled back, he reminded himself he was but a man. The Gods of this world, no matter how people worshipped and revered them, only cared to take the strongest to help them fight in the twilight war that was destined to happen. The human life was expendable otherwise.

"I love you. And I pray to whatever higher order exists, that you and our treasure live on to see more sunrises and sunsets than I would ever see." His voice almost cracked upon whispering these last words.

Without another moment's hesitation, he slipped out of the room, out of the stronghold, and disappeared into the dark night.

-----

"You're late." The man said, watching with unveiled annoyance as the younger man come up to his table. Though Geffen was a quieter change to Prontera that always seemed to be busy at almost every hour, the bars were the same anywhere.

The priest tilted his head and shrugged. Not a moment later, his face broke into a grin at the scholarly man as he took his seat, eyes alighting in an all too familiar glint of rebel and resignation.

"Since when have I ever been punctual?"

END ENTRY.