"Uriel! Uriel! Uriel!"
Rain fell softly from the skies, the echoing patter spreading across the sand.
The skies were a dull grey, and the wind was soft.
All there was, was sand, and an ocean, its waves pushing and pulling across the shore.
Across it, a figure walked: a tall man lit on fire, moving with no aim or purpose.
"Uriel! Uriel! Uriel!"
The flaming man walked on, the rain doing nothing to extinguish his burning flesh, his steps leaving charred marks in his wake.
Silently, soothed by the winds and cald by the sound of rain, he walked, and he walked, and he walked.
It was quite peaceful.
"Uriel!"
...
Lashes fluttered, eyelids opening, imdiately blinded by the warm light of early morning.
Uriel blinked a couple of tis, feeling a warm and tender palm caressing his cheek. Confused, he took a few monts to gather himself.
The fog dissipated, and his consciousness stirred just as his vision cleared.
He was still in the bed he’d crawled into, in one of the rooms of Ayah’s house, the window beside him open, allowing fresh morning air to stream in and cool his warm body.
The streets outside were mostly empty, sparsely populated by a few working awakened and drunken figures making their way back ho, returning from festivities that had swept through the city after the rush of rewards everyone had received.
He remained dazed, staring out the window, breathing slowly, his mind empty.
"Uriel?"
The voice stirred him, and he finally rembered the palm that had been caressing and gently nudging his face, waking him.
He turned, laying eyes on Ayah, who, for the first ti, wasn’t hidden or veiled beneath her crimson robes.
Her radiant azure eyes sparkled, contrasting against her healthy, rosy beige skin and the long, curling coils of lavender-colored hair that fell freely behind her.
Her face was mature and elegant, yet still bore the freshness of youth, her eyes kind, her smile warm.
She lightly tapped his cheek. "You’re awake."
Slowly, he sat up, just as she sat on the bed beside him.
Her hand left his face and rested on her lap.
For a few minutes, neither spoke, Ayah allowing Uriel to fully wake up, not rushing him in the least.
"You didn’t seem to be having a pleasant dream. I thought it’d be better if I woke you up. Sorry," she said at last.
He shook his head, running a hand through his long hair.
"No, you did good. I wasn’t." He eyed her. "I didn’t think you looked like that beneath your robes."
She chuckled. "And what did you think I looked like, hm? A monster of flesh and bone?"
"No," he yawned, "but maybe like a lady ford of shadows, or sothing like that. and Enoch had a bet about it."
"He guessed you were a lady made of water and ice. I thought you were a mix of shadows and fire, for so reason."
She pouted, just the slightest bit. "You two really are strange, you know? Most assu I’m simply a beauty protecting herself, or soone trying to hide a scar."
"Why would an elental body be your first assumption?"
He looked away, slightly embarrassed. "A man can dream."
Ayah rolled her eyes. "Whatever." She smiled and stood up. "There’s a bathroom to your right as you exit. I left all the essentials you’d need in there for you."
"Take a shower, then co down. I’ll be making breakfast."
With that, she ruffled his hair and headed out, opening the door and descending the stairs, leaving him alone.
Still in bed, Uriel stretched and groaned, a slight ache pulsing from his chest as he did so. It lingered for a few monts, then faded.
He exhaled deeply.
He slipped out of bed, then shook and stretched his body so more, pushing the lingering languid laziness out of him.
Heading out of the guest room, he was t with a small corridor; stairs to his left leading down, and two doors straight ahead, likely extra rooms.
To his right was a slightly open door. Pushing it open, he found a small bathroom: old mint-green tiles on the floors and walls, a sink and mirror, and a tub positioned against a window that looked out onto a small elevated garden on the roof.
"..."
Uriel stepped in, closing the door behind him, and removed the scholar’s robes he still wore before looking at himself in the mirror.
He was imdiately taken aback.
It had only been a week and a bit, yet his hair had grown longer, a sea of silver-white trailing behind him.
And his body, once slowly gaining size, had shrunk again, ribs and bones visible, tightly hugged by jade-white skin.
He shook his head, then turned on the water in the tub.
As it ran, his thoughts flowed.
He crossed his arms, mind lulled by the sound of streaming water and echoing splashes.
’What the hell happened during the Death Advent?’
He didn’t rember much. Everything was fragnted and blurry, yet he could feel that sothing had happened.
’I was on my knees, eyes closed, forehead touching the ground... then the monsters attacked, and—’
His gaze narrowed.
’Soone ca to help . Was it the Lady of Fire? I rember a set of blue eyes and—’
He closed his eyes, and in that mont, a flash returned.
[]
The words resurfaced, and he opened his eyes again.
’She saved . At a cost.’
He didn’t know how to feel about that realization, nor what to think. The implications were too complicated for him to fully grasp.
He could ask Enoch. Maybe even try to find Persephone, or ask Thoryl.
But he didn’t want to. So he ignored it.
TCHI.
He turned the water off, then slipped into the warm bath, a quiet moan of pleasure escaping his lips.
’Who cares.’
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