Accursed

Chapter 2 - Chasing the Lights

When I arrived back home, an empty nest greeted me. Mother and Father were out—I assumed they were picking ingredients in the forest for future meals. Aksel still remained in his chamber, even though I didn't even need to peek into his room to find out.

I sat the man I'd retrieved down at the table beside my kitchen and immediately went to fetch water and a cloth to freshen him. He was sweaty, out of breath, and hot to the touch as if he were running a fever.

I put on a tea kettle to soothe his aching muscles and to calm him down from whatever tribulations he'd just been through. I, myself, was exhausted for carrying this man all this way to my home—he was not light, and he was easily twice my size. I was guessing around six feet tall and approximately one-hundred and sixty-to-seventy pounds.

As I was brewing the tea, I brought the bowl of lukewarm water and a plush cloth over to the breathless stranger I'd brought into my home. His breathing was ragged as if he was still physically exerting himself to the point where he couldn't even focus on his surroundings.

Dipping the towel into the water, I squeezed out the excess water weight and began patting his clammy forehead, brushing curls of his hair out of his face. He strikingly reminded me of my brother—but only if I looked at his hair. I supposed Mother styled my brother's hair in that way to make it seem like he did it himself. I found it quite morbid.

The rest of this man's face was aged slightly more than my sibling's, maybe by a couple of years. His chiseled jaw was set on such a sturdy angle that if he wasn't panicked, I'd assume he was constantly tense. Purple bags settled under his bloodshot eyes, indicating that the last time he saw the insides of his eyelids had been days ago. The redness masked the sky-blue trying to flourish naturally in his corneas.

Regardless of all the questions floating around in my head, I couldn't help but remain silent and analyze every feature of his panicked face and the contours of his rigid, defensive stance—even as he was sitting. His knuckles were practically white as both of his hands were clenched tightly.

I felt more than embarrassed to start questioning him, which I didn't even feel like I should say anything at all. It appeared that he'd been through enough for one day, or for multiple days, judging by the lack of keeping up with his personal hygiene.

After what seemed like the longest silence, the man spoke, his voice such a deep, yet crisp undertone that made my ears vibrate with each word he spoke. "I am surprised you have not inquired my name." he pointed out blatantly, the accent in his voice suggesting some type of aristocracy, though he certainly did not act condescending.

I wasn't fully prepared for him to speak, so when he did, I made an awkward noise in my throat that sounded something between a cough and choking. "I did not think it important to bother the breathless man in need of desperate help." I retorted to mirror his dialect so he could understand me best and not think of me as lower than him.

A quirky smile swept across his lips. "An unpopular opinion, I see." He was obviously referring to the fact that everyone just stared at him. We both knew they had been judging him, but neither of us had really paid attention, thankfully. "It's Klaus."

I stopped patting his clammy skin to look at him evenly. "Katrien." I stated firmly with a nod, averting my eyes away from his curious, piercing gaze and continued to wipe away the sweat and dirt.

His eyes seemed to flash brilliantly at the sound of my name. "Interesting," he commented. After that, he furrowed his brow and scrunched up his nose as he looked around my kitchen and dining area. "I do not know where I am."

Bringing my gaze back up to him evenly, I plopped the rag back into the cooling water. "What do you mean? How do you not know where you were going?" Then I remembered the state that I found him in. "Were you running away from something?"