Dem'rick and the Dryhirian Stone

Chapter Ten:

A smile spread across Dem'rick's face, but he hesitated and the smile was replaced with a frown when he got a better look at the woman before him. He recognized her grey eyes but not the narrowness or the hint of sadness in them. Her wavy auburn hair was ended at her chin instead of the long waterfall he remembered months ago and the sharp black uniform threw him off. A black sheath contained her dual daggers rested at the belt of her form fitted pants and another smaller dagger was strapped to one of her boots. Her chest expanded against the leather vest and the loose fitted sleeves of her undershirt blew in the wind.

Dem'rick took a step forward but Hjal grabbed his arm holding him back, "We need to get out of here." His voice was almost shaky as his wide eyes stared at Di, was he afraid? Dem'rick questioned.

"I need to talk to her first." Dem'rick shook off Hjal's firm grip.

"What, no she's—" Hjal began to speak, but Dem'rick ignored him and jogged down the street towards Di. Her eyes flickered away from him and she rested a hand on her dagger. Dem'rick stopped inches away from her, wanting their eyes to meet, but she cast them downward not meeting his gaze.

"Di what are you—" He began to say setting a hand on her arm, wanting to see if she was real, wanting to believe that the woman from his childhood stood before him. The question of why she was here, in the middle of a warzone wearing a Tamarian uniform buzzed in his head. He cast it aside as he tried to catch her downward gaze.

"Don't touch me." She snapped, pulling away from his arm and taking several backward steps away from him. Dem'rick tried to contain the hurt in his eyes, and the realization of what he had done the night he escaped from Tamare struck him like a thousand daggers. He should have expected this.

"Why are you here?" He asked again, before crossing his arms in front of him.

"Should I not ask you the same thing?" Di replied, her back was erect and her hand did not move from her daggers' hilt as she lifted her eyes. The fierce narrowness of them and the snarl in her voice, reminded him of the many times he made her upset throughout their childhood; however, this was different. Of course it would be. He had committed regicide.

"Look I know—"

"You don't know anything, Dem." Di interrupted, a soft sigh had escaped her tense lips and he noticed how pale her face was, "you left. Again. No explanation about why you murdered my father—"

"Wait a moment—"

"and now you are suddenly here making a fool of yourself." Di finished.

"I wanted to tell you what happened, but how would that be for a goodbye. 'Bye Di, I'm going to be wanted for treason because I just killed your father, the king.'" Dem'rick snapped throwing his arms up at her.

"At least that would have been honest," Di scowled, their voices echoed of the stone houses. She let out a sigh, pressing her fingers of her free hand to her temple, "I thought you were family—" Dem'rick caught his breath and her cold stone grey eyes gazed at him. Dem'rick studied her face, the curve of her cheekbones, the redness of her lips, and he noticed the dark circles underneath her eyes, "but I guess I was wrong." She finally whispered.

"You are my family—" Dem'rick took several steps forward and she staggered back. She caught herself against the wall of a building and he pressed his palms on either side her here staring into her eyes, trying to get the truth out of them.

"No, Dem' rick," Her voice stammered, at the realization her being caught by him, "Deverow is my family. My only family now. You are an insect that crawled its way into our home." Her words were harsh; something Dem'rick had questioned all his life, his existence in Tamare, and the purpose of why he was taken in by her family. They sunk into his chest. He leaned down and pressed his lips against hers. She no longer smelled of flowers, and her body tensed underneath his and the click of her daggers rang through his ears. He stepped back just as she unsheathed them in an attempt to strike him.