Myth//OS - Chapter 65 (Patreon)

I swiped my key and stepped into the hotel room. It smelled faintly of soap and cheap air filtration. It was the kind of place that tried super hard to be comforting, and only partly succeeded. For a place pretending to be home, it had too much of a clinical feeling to it.

A hotel was an obvious choice of where to bring the elf. Kali would probably be pissed if I brought her home, and I still remembered the last conversation we had after I brought Lucia back. Not to mention Aeliel knew me as Nyx, and bringing her home would create all sorts of problems with no easy solutions. Or, at least, not ones I wanted to take.

The shower was still running. I burned one of my utility chips to jump-start it, and now the entire room was fogging up thanks to the steam seeping from under the door. I turned away and slid over to the master bed while rolling the warm vial of Dew in my hand. 

After getting her situated and activating the shower, I swung by my apartment to go grab it. We weren’t too far, and I made good time through liberal use of Wind Steps and Ether Physique enhancing my sprint speed. I was back much quicker than I expected.

I grabbed the remote and flicked on the TV. Some chatter about an Anarch fighting a Warden nearby broke through in dull tones. I couldn’t care less, so I flicked through the channels until I found one full of Glitch Scouts reruns.

The sounds from the bathroom reached me even through the pounding water and racket of the TV. It wasn’t loud, but the broken hitches of breath from someone trying not to fall apart were unmistakable. The agonized groans from hot water pouring over her battered body weren’t much better.

I’d been in these situations too often lately. Old instincts stirred to guard and protect. I couldn’t protect her from the past, though. What happened, had happened. Seventeen centuries, and I still had no idea what to do with that sound…

Her cries cut out halfway through the episode, and the shower shut off shortly after that. I paused my show, stood up, and knocked lightly on the bathroom door. “Aeliel?”

”Hmm?” The elf’s voice held a lazy draw to it. “If this is about the towels, I found them.”

”Potion.” Or, at least, one adjacent… I should’ve dropped by a Cathedral Clinic and tried to get something a little higher grade. A couple thousand Nytes didn’t matter all that much. It was too late now. Maybe in the morning?

“You can come in.” The shower curtain rustled and I heard the wet sounds of feet on tile. “Promise I won’t bite.”

I exhaled through my nose and stayed right where I was. “I’ll wait.”

She paused for a moment like she hadn’t expected me to refuse. When Aeliel spoke again, her tone had shifted. It was softer, though no less intentional. “What’s the matter? Shy?” 

“Old.”

The bathroom door opened. Steam spilled out, followed by the elf. She was barely wrapped in a towel that looked like it’d fall with just one wrong breath. Her skin was flushed from the heat. It made the bruises and cuts slightly less noticeable against her skin. Her hair hung damp and loose, clinging to one shoulder to cover and obscure her damaged ear.

She leaned against the door frame and studied me. The towel pulled up with the motion, exposing the tops of her thighs. “You look about my age, Nyx.”

I held up the vial and stepped away. “Drink.”

Aeliel pushed off the frame and crossed the short entryway to me with a slow, careful grace. It was almost reminiscent of a cat trying to hide its limp. She took the vial, and her soft fingers wrapped around mine without pulling away.

“Always saving me.” She pulled the vial away, though the heat of her remained on my skin for several moments. Without any hesitation, she popped the cork and downed the Dew.

I watched it work. Color returned to a few spots, and her shoulders loosened like some of the pain started to fade. A tiny sigh left her. It wasn’t a miracle cure, but it could help speed up her natural healing rate.

Aeliel took a step closer instead of handing over the empty vial. She was close enough I caught the scent of cheap hotel soap and the sharp sting of copper barely hidden underneath. “You could stay. Just until it stops hurting.”

I backed away to the bed and took a seat. “I’ll stay.”

Aeliel followed me to the bed and sat down just next to me, still barely clad by her towel. She leaned close and traced my sleeve with her fingers. Her breath ghosted over my neck, and the towel brushed my thigh when she shifted her weight.

Her hand trailed upward lightly. It reminded me of a broken paw carefully stretching out to check whether I’d strike or stay warm—

“Aeliel. Stop.” I grabbed her hands lightly before they could go any further and set them down in my lap. I could still see it as clear as day. Her crumpled form curled up in the alley like something feral and broken.

Ripples of surprise crossed her face. It sharply turned into something hurt that was quickly masked. “Oh… sorry, I misread. I shouldn’t—“

”Stop.” I said again. This time, it was toward the welling pain on her face rather than the seductive facade that almost immediately shattered like glass.

Her shoulders tensed and her hands curled into fists. “Of course. Why would an Anarch—“

”Not that.” I bit my tongue. The stupid curse was seriously annoying at times like this. I couldn’t just clearly explain it all out to her.

“Then?” Her expression soured and her head dropped. 

”Not fair.” 

“To who?” Her hands trembled under mine. The question seemed to scare her even more than when I found her in the alley.

”You.” I’d seen this kind of thing far too often back in Serhym. The princess always fell for the knight who saved her. Gratitude, safety, and relief mistaken for desire.

”You think I don’t know what I want?” Her voice was filled with rebuttal, but her injured expression was unbearably fragile and vulnerable. 

“I think.” My voice came out slow and deliberate. “You’re hurt.”

“Then maybe I want someone close.” She whispered and grabbed my hand. “Just for tonight.”

”…” I stayed silent. She already had her answer, anyway. Aeliel released me and back away, putting some distance between us.

“You're cruel, Nyx.” There was no true venom in her words though. Instead, there was a trace of relief? Or maybe it was just acknowledgement.

“I know.” I never claimed to be a hero. Or righteous for that matter.

“I don’t have clothes.” She adjusted her towel. She still had exposed skin, ‘course, but it wasn’t nearly as flirtatious as it had been when she stepped out of the bathroom.

I subtly formed a pair of sweats and a hoodie of Ebonshroud that were a little different from mine just out of her view. I then tossed the two to her. “Here.”

“Right.” She caught them and turned away, dropping the towel.

“…” While she changed, I hit play on the TV again and started Glitch Scouts back up. 

Once she was dressed, she dropped onto the bed next to me and crossed her legs. She was still close, but the air was significantly less charged than it had been. “Is this Glitch Scouts?”

My back straightened. “Know it?”

[Nighteye snickers and puts away her popcorn. If you had cat ears, they’d be sticking straight up.]

So now you pop up? Here I was thinking you’d stay hiding like you always did when the going got tough, Nightloser. Seriously. Without fail, if I remembered right, she’d just disappeared and turned into a silent audience abruptly. 

[Nighteye snarls in irritation. She doesn’t hide. She gives you space to think and figure things out yourself.]

That… that was a bit better then how I put it, yep? Fine. I’d give you the benefit of the doubt, Nighteye. It totally wasn’t because you were scared to say the wrong thing at the wrong time.

“Yeah.” Her eyes flicked to the screen then back to me. After a moment, she hesitantly spoke again in a much quieter tone. “My niece lives with me. Watches it nonstop.”

”…!” Her niece sounded like an incredibly smart and intelligent—

“She’s three years old.” A crooked grin tugged at her lips. The poor elf looked like she was barely holding herself together. “So, yeah, stellar taste.”

The smile faded from her face and her hand drifted up to her ear. I grabbed her hand just before she could touch it and gently folded it in between my own once more. 

“H-how is she going to look at me now?” She tried to laugh, though it came out thin. “Kids are honest. She’s probably going to ask if I lost a fight with a blender.”

“Be fine.” I squeezed her hand gently. In the morning, I was going to run by a clinic and buy something more suited for wound restoration than Dew. 

We both sat in silence for a while and watched the show. One episode rolled into the next, and it was only after the third one that she moved away from me on the edge of the bed and laid down. She stared at the ceiling unseeingly. “Do you… ever get tired?”

”Sometimes.” Sleep… it was a blessing back home before Bastion. And the strongest kind of drug. Something in her voice gave me the feeling she wasn’t talking about actually sleeping, though.

“Lonely, then?” Her gaze flicked to me, and her hands curled in the sheets. The feral cat energy she’d been giving off had faded almost entirely. There was still a hint of it in the way she looked at me, though.

”Mmm.” Loneliness… it was only those last hundred years or so… I was glad to be in Bastion. It wasn’t the same as Serhymn. Far more lively here than that dead place.

“I think about—about leaving. Not out there.” Her voice was tight and she brushed a hand across her face. Most of her injuries had turned to faint scabs, and the bruising had faded significantly. “Just… where it's quiet.”

”…” Where it’s quiet… I had my fill of Silence to last a lifetime. I could see how she’d want it though. There was a certain seductive peace in Silence.

”You know.” Her voice trembled weakly. She only continued after a long pause. “I didn’t think anyone would find me there. Or care. Maybe I should’ve jsut—“

She cut herself off. I turned away from the TV and watched her. She bit her lip, and her hands clenched tightly into the sheets. Eventually, she let go of the bunched up sheets and turned half on her side to face away from me.

”They didn’t even say my name. Just… just elf.” She huffed out a broken laugh. “I’ve lived here my entire life. I know the streets. And yet th-they looked at me like I was an abomination that wandered in from a rift.”

An abomination that wandere in from a rift, yep? I could relate. ”Belong?”

”I want to.” She sighed and twisted to look at me once more. “I kept trying to run. It felt so, so easy to stop, though. That—that scares me.”

“…” I picked up the remote and hit pause once more. It stilled on a shot of the city being destroyed by a gigantic scaled monstrosity.

“You stayed.” Aeliel said. 

”Yep.” 

”Why?” 

I took a breath and thought through my words, carefully selecting ones to get my point across. “Leaving. Is easier.” 

“Heh.” She dropped back and her eyes finally closed. “Yeah, it is.”

I hit play once more and settled back into the bed. I didn't speak again. Just alternated between watching the show and the rise and fall of her chest. The TV hummed quietly between us.

“Goodnight, my Anarch.” She drowsily called.

”Night.” I turned the brightness and volume down and continued to watch Glitch Scouts late into the night. Only once I was sure she was asleep did I turn it off and take the chair.

— - —

AN: This one took me a while. I rewrote it a solid three or four times, then realized what I was originally planning was full of plot holes and bad planning, and then rewrote to this. I still dunno how I feel about it. I think it’s the first time I’ve written something that’s, like, mildly suggestive.