A House Filled With Night

“We should leave.”

These words came from Sylvain as he backed away from the tombstone. He turned and started to leave without waiting for anyone to follow. The others jolted out of their reverie and stumbled after him.

“I don’t know what’s going on,” Sylvain whispered to the others as they hurried back through the corridors of the church, “But we can’t hang around here and talk about it. We—”

He stopped short as they entered the sanctuary. There, kneeling at the altar, was a familiar hooded figure. Sabia.

At the sound of his voice, she stood and approached, speaking urgently but quietly as she came. “Sons of Midnight, I have overheard his plans again. He knows you’re here. I came as quickly as I could but—they may be here any moment now. They have orders to kill you and your brothers as soon as they see you.”

Sylvain cursed under his breath.

“We have to leave now.”

He turned away from Sabia without another word, but this time, she grabbed him by the hand.

“What? What is it now?”

“Sylvain…that’s your name, isn’t it?”

He said nothing in reply.

“Please don’t hate me. I’m not my father.”

“I don’t hate you. Although I don’t see why it matters.”

“It’s because…I…”

He sighed and pulled his hand away, turning once again to leave. The rest of the Sons of Midnight followed. Runa hurried to catch up. That woman had always made her feel uncomfortable.

“Wait, please!” Sabia shouted, stumbling forward with one arm stretched out. Her hood fell back, sending her unkempt hair flying about her face. “It’s because—I—” What started as a cry fell to something almost a whisper. “I’m in love with you, Sylvain.”

Sylvain stopped just as he reached the door.

“You don’t mean that,” he said coolly.

“But I do! I fell in love the first time I—”

He turned. “You don’t love me,” Sylvain said again, but this time, there was anger in his voice. “Because it’s impossible for you to know even the first thing about us.”

“I know that you’re brave, and beautiful, and—”

“That means nothing. For all you know, we could be murderers, or worse.”

Casimir pulled at Sylvain’s elbow. “Hey,” he whispered. “Get ahold of yourself. We need to get out of here.”

“We’re leaving,” Sylvain said, sharply.

“Wait!” she cried once again. “I don’t care what you are, nothing matters. I—”

“Don’t follow us!” Sylvain commanded, lifting a stern hand and halting her in her steps. “Since you don’t know, I’ll tell you. Our father was a demon, and we’re his bastard sons. Don’t ever come near us again.”

The sound of marching footsteps reached their ears and Sylvain cursed again at the banging of fists upon the church doors.

“What a fool I’ve been. We should’ve left long ago—”

The doors swung open.

Fiske bolted.

“Are you serious, Fiske?” roared Torin, “Again?”

They scattered in a second. Runa went stiff with panic amid chaos of their flight and the clamor of soldiers pouring in. Torin grabbed her hand and dragged her along, breathing hard.

“Come on, Runa, we have to go!”

Soldiers followed at their heels as they turned at the corner and stumbled back into the corridors of the cathedral. In darkness and the desperation, her eyes could barely make sense of walls and doorways zooming past them. The other brothers were nowhere to be seen. But they had no choice except to keep on running.

“They’ll catch up any second,” growled Torin.

He suddenly dove for a pile of old supplies stacked against the wall, throwing a dirty piece of canvas over himself and Runa. They huddled between the wall and a couple of crates, desperately trying to catch their breath and quiet down. He backed himself into the wall and pulled her against his chest, holding on so tightly that she couldn’t budge even if she wanted to. He cocked his head to the side and listened.

“Runa,” he whispered into her ear. She felt her head twitch to the slide just slightly. His breath tickled. “They’re going to pass by any moment. Don’t make a sound. Don’t move at all.”

They waited as the soldiers approached. Torin dropped his forehead onto Runa’s shoulder and closed his eyes, willing for them to pass by and move on. She had already gone stiff and breathless just from being so close to Torin, but she was afraid that, if when she got her senses back, all the air would come out at once and she’d give their position away. She focused on controlling her breath. She looked down at the smooth, pale hands wrapped around her waist. The first group of soldiers were passing by. She bit her lip and placed both hands on top of his. She squeezed her eyes shut, trying to imagine herself as a tiny creature hiding in the safety of a tree. A big, warm, sweet-smelling, tree…

The last soldiers passed by and Torin popped his head up, breathing fully. He sniffed a little.

“Your hair…tickled.”

“Your breath tickled.”

Silence.

Runa reached out for the canvas, ready to pull it down. “Should we go now?”

A pause. Torin swatted her hand away and pulled her back again, sliding his arms further around her.

“We should wait…a little more…just in case.”

His nose nestled into her shoulder, and she felt his body relax as he breathed in deeply.

“Torin?” she asked after a while.

“Hm?”

“What are we…doing?”

“Hm?”

“What about your brothers?”

“Hm? Oh!”

Torin’s head popped up and bumped into a crate. He threw off their covering in a flustered attempt to hide the expression on his face, but he had to face her as helped her up.

“I—I’m sorry, Runa—” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked away. “I wasn’t thinking, and—I—”

“We should probably go,” Runa said, turning so he wouldn’t see her flushed face.

“R-right. Let’s get out of here.”

—

By the time they made it out of the cathedral, there was no sign of the other Sons of Midnight anywhere. Not to mention, it seemed like there were soldiers everywhere. The city was absolutely infested with them. They tried hiding in a restaurant for a while, but left after hearing talk about a group of strange brothers and a “suspicious woman.”

Torin raked a hand through his hair as they trudged down another alleyway.

“This is bad. I don’t know if we can get out of the city tonight. We don’t know if the others are gone, or if they’re trapped like we are. And this city is riled up looking for us. I think it’s too risky to try sneaking out until dark, but I have no idea where to hide until then.”

Runa looked around, realizing the street they were in.

“I think I know a place,” she said, a little hesitatingly.

“You do?”

She nodded slowly. Maybe this isn’t a good idea. But they were running out of options.

She pulled him along through street after street, doing her best to put together the broken pieces of her mental map. Finally, they came upon a familiar little house. The woman she was looking for stood outside, sweeping her doorstep with uncanny accuracy.

“Auntie,” Runa said, approaching.

The blind woman looked up in her direction. “Runa? Is that your voice I hear?”

“Yes, it’s me, and a friend. Could we come inside?”

“Of course, dear.”

She welcomed them both in, standing expectantly in the entryway as Runa shut the door and Torin peered outside the window.

“Auntie,” Runa began, hesitantly. “I’m afraid we’re actually in some trouble. My friend and I are being chased by Lord Cargan’s soldiers. I promise we aren’t criminals or anything of the sort. We’re just—well, it’s difficult to explain. You see, he—”

Meriel reached out and took hold of Runa’s hands.

“You don’t have to explain. That fool goes after anyone but criminals. I don’t doubt your honesty. Any friend of Fiske must be good at heart.”

Torin raised an eyebrow. “Fiske—Fiske?”

Runa looked at Torin nervously. Meriel just smiled and turned to him. “Oh, are you a friend of Fiske, as well?”

Runa laughed awkwardly, but it did little lighten the suddenly tense air in the room.

“How do you know Fiske?” asked Torin, still staring intently at the woman.

“Oh, he and I ran into each other one day at the marketplace and—silly thing, he just keeps coming back to visit me. Heaven knows why. He made up some nonsense about his mother being close to my dearly departed sister, but I know better. He’s a good young man who likes to help out poor, hopeless creatures like me. Do you know him as well?”

“We’re…brothers.”

“Oh? Brothers? He did mention something about a brother the other day! It’s very good to meet you.”

“Yes, it’s—it’s good to meet you too, but…who exactly are you?”

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~ A/N ~

Aw, cuddles <3

So how’s the fall treating y’all? It’s kicking my butt.

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