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[row][cell][sub]Location: Zeph's Home > Heading into town[/sub][/cell][/row][/table]Zeph leaned against the counter, a mug warming his hands as he watched thick snowflakes drift lazily down, layering the already heavy pine branches outside his kitchen window. The morning—or what passed for morning now that the sun never rose—was quiet, the only sound a soft whisper of wind through the trees. His hazel eyes were unfocused, thoughts tangled up as memories from the previous night played back in his mind. 

The cavern, unassuming from the outside, but glittering with odd crystals hidden deep within. The bladed teeth of those fish that still sent phantom pain through his arm when he thought about it. The gemstone—whatever it was—which had caused pure panic to flash through the little firefly. And yet, tiny as she was, he couldn’t forget the power in which she wielded. A bright, warm light cutting through the darkness that had closed in around his vision. 

But he had always been lucky, Seluna saw fit to let him see another day, and they’d made it back to Dawnhaven in one piece—just barely. That much was a miracle in itself. One owed mostly to Tia for saving their lives. He didn’t like relying on someone else to bail him out, especially not a Priestess, but he knew without a doubt she’d saved his life. And now, he owed a debt. One he’d have to figure out how to repay.

She hadn’t saved them without a cost, either. After her legs gave out, Ivor had ended up carrying her the rest of the way into town. Zeph’s jaw tensed as he recalled the way she’d swayed on her feet, pale and shaky, and how his hands had shot out just in time to catch her before she fully collapsed into mud and ice. She looked a mess—blood and dirt streaked across her clothes and tangled in her hair, all the color drained from her face as she shivered against the incoming storm. Not exactly what he pictured when he thought of a pristine Aurelian Priestess—with all their decorum and elegant grace. But even then, she’d tried to wave them off, stubborn to a fault. Against Ivor, though, she hadn’t stood a chance. He scooped her up and carried on.


By the time they reached Dawnhaven, the town was mostly asleep, the streets dotted with only the occasional patrol making their rounds through the snow. Zeph hadn’t been surprised to see the Champion emerge from the temple doors, stern-faced and all business—just like when she’d passed prisoner duty off to him. He almost laughed at how rigid she looked, but thought better of it when he saw the way she scowled at Tia—and then turned her daggered gaze on him and Ivor. Anger, like a smoldering ember, daring them to add fuel. 

Something about the way she stared down Tia didn’t sit right with him, but he wasn’t dumb enough to pick a fight with a Champion. He knew it wasn’t his place to get involved. Champions had their duties. Protecting the Priestess was one of them, and whatever tension was between the two of them wasn’t his problem. So he didn’t let it bother him. Not much, anyway.

Once they handed Tia off, the Champion snatched the spear out of his hand without so much as a word and ushered Tia inside, swiftly slamming the doors in their faces. Bewildered, the two men parted ways shortly after and Zeph didn’t waste much time getting home. He’d barely managed to kick his boots off before collapsing into bed. The exhaustion hit him hard—muscles aching, head pounding—but at least sleep came easy.  

Now, in the stillness of his kitchen, a faint smirk tugged at the edge of his lips. The short-lived adventure had been exhilarating—far more than anything he’d experienced while serving in lowly guard ranks. A fleeting thought crossed his mind and he wondered what it might take to become a Champion of Aelios. Did the Sun Goddess take in detractors from another nation if they bent the knee to her? Aurelian Priestesses seemed a lot more entertaining than Seluna’s solemn lot. 

Tossing back the rest of his coffee, his stomach grumbled, reminding him that the few bites of rainbow fish hadn’t done much more than keep him on his feet. With a sigh, Zeph set his empty mug in the sink and grabbed his heavy coat from the peg by the door, shrugging it on and bracing himself for the cold.

Stepping outside, the frigid air bit at this face, but he barely registered it. This was something he had long been used to. If he hadn’t known better, it could have been just another dark winter, like countless others Lunarians had endured before it.  

With his hands stuffed into his pockets and snow settling atop his black hair, he made his way down the road toward the tavern. A hot meal sounded like heaven—a thick stew, fresh bread, maybe even those pastries from yesterday. The pathways had been cleared—someone else’s problem today. Luckily, he didn’t have duty today. No hauling snow or guarding the town’s edge from whatever decided to crawl out of the woods. 

Finally, a break.