Interactions/Mentions:@PrinceAlexus Sya
“I’ll write,” Orion promised gently, his crimson eyes meeting Sya's wide blue one with sincerity. “Even if it’s just a note or a few words, you’ll hear from me. And when I do visit again, we’ll share that drink you’re so insistent on.”
When she moved to hug him, Orion remained still for a moment, once again caught off guard by the gesture. Her small frame leaned into his, and he hesitated, unsure of how to respond, before carefully placing a hand on her back. As Sya pulled away, Orion watched her with a quiet intensity, his crimson eyes following her movements as she approached the door of the inn.
“Take care, Lady Sya,” the man said softly, his voice carrying the reverence usually reserved for long-time friends.
Perhaps one day, there would be a true meaning behind those words.
For now, Orion lingered a moment longer near the door, his eyes tracing the path of her shimmering blue scales as they slipped inside the inn, disappearing into its cozy arms. The faint sound of her staff’s concerned voices carried out, blending with the laughter and crackle of fires from the town square. As Orion watched, he noticed the delicate imprint of an S etched into the snowy ground and a smile crept onto his face, brightening the early afternoon despite the lack of sun.
“Cracked eggs,” he chuckled to himself, the absurdity of the phrase lightening his spirit, as Orion shook his head in disbelief. With a final glance at the traces of her presence, he turned away, the sound of his footsteps crunching on the snow. He adjusted the collar of his coat out of warm-blooded habit, pulling it closer against the chill he barely felt. All the while, his thoughts wandered as he walked, thinking about everything that had transpired over his short “holiday”, if calling it that wasn’t a stretch. The man had simply wanted a respite from his duties and, as always, had gotten more than he could chew. Still, he was still able to find at least a few silver linings.
He had made a friend. Although she was bolder in showing her feelings, he appreciated the connection nonetheless.
Furthermore, his relationship with Kira had transformed from just nods and sideways glances to, well…something more. They were at least talking to each other now.
His boots crunched steadily against the snow as he wandered toward the quieter outskirts of the square. The distant laughter and chatter of the town began to fade, replaced by the soft sigh of the wind threading through the narrow streets. Orion welcomed the quiet, the space to let his thoughts settle. The snow sparkled under the dim moonlight, casting a shimmering silver carpet across the ground, an enchanting sight that made the world appear enchanted —as if time itself had paused to admire its beauty.
Yet, tranquillity, as always for him, was often short-lived.
Suddenly, a sound pierced the quiet—a blend of hurried footsteps and hushed voices, carried by the breeze. Orion's keen ears picked up the urgency coloring their whispers, a subtle hint that something was amiss. With a quirk of concern etched on his brow, he quickened his step, drawn toward the commotion. It grew louder as he approached and, soon, the glow of torches flickered in the distance.
As he rounded the corner, the scene unfolded slowly before him. A group of guards stood, their bodies stiff as iron bars, weapons ready. They gathered in a tight-knit circle, voices low but animated until Orion approached. One guard’s gaze shot towards him, and he stepped forward, hand raised high.
“Halt!” the guard commanded. “Who goes there?” His eyes narrowed, a hawk sizing up its quarry, uncertain yet resolute in his duty. Orion straightened his back in turn, feeling the weight of countless stories behind his name as his reddish eyes sparkled dimly under the flickering torchlight.
“Orion Nightingale. Advisor to the prince,” he replied, “What’s the issue?”
The guard hesitated, a flicker of doubt crossing his face, glancing nervously at his brothers-in-arms, before turning his attention back to Orion. “It’s... the princess,” he murmured. “She was attacked by…something. We suspect blightborn.” His gaze shamelessly scrutinized Orion, drawing a comparison between him and the lurking menace.
“Much like yourself.”
A fleeting shadow crossed the guard’s features, as if he sensed the irony in his words, his pulse quickening with a fear that Orion could practically feel in the energies around him. “We’re looking for her now,” he finally concluded.
Orion’s deep red eyes narrowed, revealing a tinge of annoyance at the guard's half-hearted words. He knew all too well the skepticism and disdain that men like this guard felt towards beings such as him. Yet, the urgency of the situation demanded his full attention. “Where was she last seen?” he asked instead.
The guard gulped nervously, his finger pointing toward an icy path blanketed in white. “Down that road,” he said, his voice shaking. “The… thing she was with—he threatened to tear through them like they were nothing. It got one of them, you see. One of her guards.”
Orion’s eyes flitted towards the designated trail. The snow lay like a pale blanket, but beneath its surface were traces of movement—fragile footprints and faint drag marks almost lost in the silvery glow of the moonlight. An unsettling feeling crawled up his spine, as if the very night itself was alive and watching. The air was laced with a ghostly essence of magic, a sour taste lingering like spoiled milk, making his teeth grate together in discomfort.
“Split up and search for the princess,” he ordered. “Avoid engaging any threats alone. If you stumble upon anything out of the ordinary, summon help immediately.” The guards exchanged glances, their eyes reflecting unspoken fears, but they obeyed, breaking into smaller clusters before slipping away.
Meanwhile, Orion stepped toward the path, his mind already concocting horrible images of the scene he was sure to find himself in.
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