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Zephyr glanced tentatively at the calendar pinned on the far corner wall, usually forgotten, and leafed through to the next month.
Almost a year, He thought and frowned.
It was a year since he helped in [Name] regaining her coherency in reality and burying the scarring trauma beneath her skin. Since he kissed without feeling sexual intercourse was a forced addition. And then, during that time, Zephyr became less and less aware of his surroundings.
Till one day, reality slapped him in the face, literally.
Scowling, Zephyr ripped the stray, wet scrap of paper off his face, and glared down at it. It was drained of color in most places, and was tearing apart between his fingers. He scanned over the paper with an air of uninterest, and then his eyes flew open.
At the bottom of the page mentioned a reward, thousands and thousands of dollars, to find a missing person. The dated picture showed a small girl that was named missing.
She looked no older than twelve at most, from first glance. Her hair color was sapped out to a static gray, and her skin drenched in pus yellow.
But the eyes were a bright [e/c] with a smile that matched its glowing nimbus.
It made him choke on his tongue and throw bounty to the ground in a wet wad.
For the rest of the year Zephyr was helping [Name] perfect her speech again, he made no mention. When he hinted at it, asking of her family, friends, she replied she had not recollection. Her memory teased their names on her tongue, but vividly showed their faces.
She always smiled though, even if her family was separated from her. As though she didn’t… care that they weren’t there with her. Zephyr sometimes wondered why. The group of mercenaries weren’t the best people for her to be around, considering they did almost any job if money was included. But she stuck around.
For that, Zephyr was secretly thankful. Grateful.
It was too much to hope that Vashyron and Leanne wouldn’t find out while scrounging for work wherever they could to pay off their eccentrics.
It was hot. Real damn hot.
Leanne fanned herself with free fingers, while the other hand held [Name]’s casually. Vashyron slugged off his jacket and slung it over his shoulder as he peered over the job board with Zephyr.
None of the jobs offered were considerable, and didn’t pay shit. Groaning, Zephyr kicked the wall violently, before being chided by a Guild member, who he dismissed.
“Ah!” A high voice cried, and Zephyr spared a glance over his shoulder.
It was an almost hefty woman, stout but held up by slick red heels that increased her height by a half a foot. She wore a skin tight dress dyed a fading brown and bright red that pushed up her bosom at the corset. He heard Vashyron hum to himself, presumably landing his gaze on her breasts before the rest of her body.
“It’s you three!” She smiled. Zephyr didn’t recognize her, and his eyes narrowed. “Garigliano told me your appearances, and he was spot on, as usual!”
Zephyr recognized the name. It was that gay ‘artist’.
“Why would he tell you what we look like?” Leanne asked. “Does he have a job for us?” Stupid question.
“Yes actually! He said to give you three this,” The plump woman handed them a slip of paper, before she turned on her glamorous heel and wobbled out. They never even got her name.
On the paper it described the details to find a collective album in the ruins of Lucia, presumably lost during the massacre.
Vashyron pursed his lips before grinning wildly.
“Alright! Let’s go!”
Zephyr’s lips thinned as he thrummed his fingers against his thigh.
After they descended to Level 6, they entered Lucia. The wayfaring smells of dust and rot met their noses as they dug through the rubble. It took hours to find the goddamn thing, but they managed to salvage some discarded weapons on the way.
It was a large book, the covers burned and peeling away with age, and beneath the covers revealed it was a metal box, locked shut, with no key.
“Eh,” Vashyron grunted as he patted his hands on his pants. “He can figure out how to open it in his own damn time.”
“Are you sure? He probably expects us to have the key—” Leanne began, but Vashyron placed a finger on her lips and hushed her.
“You see Leanne, in this thing called life, it’s filled with lies people tend to believe. So if we just say one little lie to give our asses a break, I don’t think it’ll hurt anybody.” She frowned, but quickly gave up, with her shoulders slumping.
Zephyr didn’t say anything, but he was grateful. Less time out here pretending to be an archeologist, and more time with [Name]…
They took the book and [Name] with them to Garigliano’s mansion on the cardinal level and Vashyron tossed the box over to him. The flamboyant man made a slight whimper as he caught it, and delicately dusted off the cover in disgust.
“You could’ve made it at least decent.” He muttered, and from beneath his silken shirt, pulled out a small ornate key.
“See? We didn’t even need to lie!” Vashyron whispered to Leanne, nudging her, only earning a hard punch in the arm.
Once the box was open, the cardinal rummaged through its contents. He glanced up with thinned lips and Zephyr noticed his gaze zero in on [Name].
He looked over her pretty [color] dress with dark boots, and her hair tied back into a tail of curls.
“So different,” Garigliano muttered. Delicately he handed over the tin box of mystery to a maid nearby before he marched over to [Name], and seized her in a hug. A more than fucking friendly hug, might Zephyr add. He was groping her back and shoulders and shoving himself against her.
Zephyr would’ve thrown his ass off, if not for his happy cry.
“Oh my little darling! [Name], you’ve gotten so big.” Zephyr’s stomach fell, and his lungs winded.
What did he say?
In an instant, he remembered the aged flyer, and his chest clenched as hard as his fists.
“I think you got the wrong person,” [Name]’s warbled out, muffled by the cardinal shoving her face into his shoulder.
“Of course I do not! Do accuse me of such, I’m never wrong! Look here,” He cried, and shoved the box into her hands once he pulled away from her. Zephyr watched as her eyes glided over the contents, then rummaged within it as Garigliano did.
“What is it?” Leanne quipped, not fully understanding what was going on. Zephyr understood, and scowled hard at her, but she didn’t notice.
“I… found my family,” [Name] said slowly, her brows pinched together and her lips frowning.
“That’s right!” Garigliano grinned, and gave her a loving kiss on the cheek. “But I do not understand, what happened to your parents? Did they die during the accident or survive like you? Where were you? We thought you all were dead.” He said in a flurry of words, and [Name], not listening, flicked her eyes up to Zephyr, which he stonily met.
“Well, I guess we won’t have you to mooch on us anymore, we can mooch on you,” Vashyron joked. They didn’t pay attention to him.
[Name] smiled weakly at Zephyr, and he frowned.
They didn’t share a word while he, Vashyron and Leanne left.
He never saw [Name] after that, not for a year, and it was the anniversary they met. Not that he was paying attention—oh who was he fooling? He was counting.
That night, lounging back on the spacious roof, he shivered with loneliness. As his eyes found the stars, he glared at them with such intense venom; he wished he could pierce their hearts.
“This better not turn out like it did in the fucking stories.”