In Lost Dreams the Four Were Bound

36 - Neris - Entertaining Her Paramour

Neris took her time walking Davnian from the infirmary and up the high ramp to the village's grand terrace. As they strolled together, gawking talvuo bore witness to her struggling lover. They whispered and cajoled. Familiar faces and bedtime partners shot glances at her while scrutinizing the pale man by her side. Others were stopped dead in their tracks, their green and grey eyes filled with fear and curiosity. But no matter the age, state, or familiarity of the passersby, all eyes were drawn first to her gorgeous figure, then to the claw that hung at his left side.

[They can't tell what to think about me.] Davnian's words were fresh in her mind.

A first they took in the sights near the elders' overlook. All around the quaint huts and branches, small tables had fitted with places for food and drink. A small clay oven had been moved to the middle of the platform, where talvuo came to drop off time-worn mementos and trinkets. Calling to those who wandered was one of her brother's apostles, joined by a fire keeper and a mason to ensure nothing went amiss.

For the better part of an hour, they were content to watch while exchanging flippant pleasantries. As she flirted and gawked with the crowds, Davnian scanned and analyzed the village. He wore a gaze of deep meditation as he focused on each area within their view. Never once did he betray that something was amiss, but Neris knew better. Had everything been pleasant, he would have played his part better.

After moving on from the perch, Neris was content to stand by him. As he surveyed the world around them, she studied him in turn. Every bit of the man she had known as the Virage was on display while they moved from terrace to terrace and took in the sights.

At one point, a pair approached the two of them. In one breath, they introduced themselves to the feared visitor, and with his hollow response had abated in the very same exhalation. He did not have time for others. A colossal weight sat upon some unseen scale, and like the arcane forces from his lecture, he was trying to reason how to even them.

"Is there a reason why you're fidgeting with that?" Davnian asked as they stood in the shade beneath the bows of a great tree along the village's outer rim.

"It's been quite a while since I've spent so much time outside," Neris confessed as she fanned herself with her small silken shawl. She had been lazy and preoccupied with decadence and avoidance since she had arrived in the village. So much time spent out in the sun was wearing on her pitch skin. Her similarly hued attire was not helping, serving only to gather sweat and heat. "Thank the gods for the shade."

He laughed. "I seem to recall you being much more resilient."

"I have plenty of stamina, if that's your meaning." Neris shot him a heated glare. He donned a crooked grin as she feigned annoyance. It was true. She had always been somewhat athletic and toned, even after months of lounging before they retreated from the ancient Delvori fortress. Months of lying on her laurels--or back, as it were—had done her a disservice. "Perhaps I should coax our blond paramour to take me on her adventures."

"You should," he said matter-of-factly. "I feel like you'd enjoy the hunt."

"And the filth," she said, sneering.

"Like that ever stopped you."

Neris was both hurt and heated. His words stung, but they weren't wholly untrue. Still, with visages of her previous life's tormentors fresh in her mind's eye, it did enough to unnerve her.

"I didn't mean it that way," Davnian said, one step ahead of her comeback.

"No, what you said was fair. And I do have my moments," Neris said as she shook off the displeasure.

"I'll divest the two for you. Erotic and all pleasing."

"I'm not sure I completely agree with those words either, but I'll accept them." She feigned annoyance once more as she turned her gaze toward the village center. The bridges and terraces were abuzz with talvuo preparing for the evening's festivities. Between strands of sunlight and sweeping waves of moving branches, they gathered around the increasing number of clay ovens. Purging and renewal, so sang the song of spring. "The whole place is overtaken."