Skye [Loki]

Chapter 9 | A Beloved Friendship

Chapter 9 | A Beloved Friendship

* Hesitantly dragging Mathis into the barn, Skye wasn’t short to quickly shove him backward, hastily turning to lock the wooden double doors.

With a swift ‘Ooompf!’, he landed upon the floor, angrily dusting the fragments of straw from his body. “Are you always this polite to your guests?” He sarcastically remarked, raising a brow as she turned to glare at him.

Shooting him a smile, she observed his muffled appearance upon the ground. Her heart froze, but she continued anyway. “Only to those ‘uninvited’!” She gingerly replied, shifting to stride straight past him to lounge upon a bale of hay.

“I’m so very sure.” He mumbled before scrambling to his feet to join her.

Fumbling with the hem of her dress, Skye regretfully lowered her gaze. “You remind me of him, you know…” She mumbled, catching Mathis of guard as he seated himself next to her.

“Whom do you speak of?” He confusingly uttered.

“Your father. You just - look like him.”  Skye murmured before shifting to glance at him. “-except you don’t.” The frowning of his brow worried her slightly, bring back unwanted memories. “You resemble him, except your eyes are much gentler and your face - it seems so calm and collected.” Her words turned into a whisper as she once again lowered her head in regret. “He was so dark and conniving. I couldn’t ever raise my eyelids to observe his wicked form. He was just- oh… what’s the point!”

“He must have done something very grave indeed for you to remember features such as that. He barely shows himself anymore.”

“H-he did…” Skye paused, hate filling her heart as she jolted from the bale of hay, retreating from Mathis’ presence. “Which is exactly why I shouldn’t dare to trust you!”

“Skye, I am nothing like my father.” He motioned, moving toward her frantic form. Never had he seen such a beauty in such an anxious form. Her eyes held a certain strength yet leaked her very fear into the daylight. He form trembled and this pained him.

“How do I know that!? How do I know your words hold the truth!? Why are you running from him in the first place! Huh?” She demanded, needing to know his past.

“Because he is a cruel, heartless monster.” Mathis raged, taking a final step forward before his eyes darkened with anguish. Memories of his past life were a torment. It pained him to think of such things but it’s all his life was filled with. “Ever since I was a boy, I’ve had to stand by and watch as my father destroyed my homeland. His cruel and wicked objectives are punishing and relentless. I’ve stood by and watched for long enough. I have aged to realise the difference between right and wrong and he believed that he could blind me with anger and torment while he plagued this beautiful land.”

Skye could only tremble at his words.

“My mother died trying to escape from him and his wicked life. And as for me…” Mathis paused, threading his hands under the collar of his shirt to draw back the material away from his skin. “This is how he treats his own flesh and blood.”

Skye stepped forward, speechless and horrified by his story of anguish. Unconsciously she raised her trembling hand, skimming her fingers across the horrific scar his words were motioning toward. Bladed from his collar bone, deep beneath the concealing fabric of his shirt, a battle wound was painfully obvious.

Did this mean he was the good guy?

“W-when did this happen…”she stammered, lifting her eyes to meet his own. Only then did she truly see the pain oozing from his sapphire irises. They swells with distaste of the subject but Mathis knew he must push on.