“So you don’t know your own name, you’ve never met any other human, and you bunked with the Grim Reaper.” Several hours later, after Era had taken an extended nap and been given a spare robe to throw on, Gabriel had subjected him to another round of questioning. “Forgive me if I find that a little hard to swallow.”
“Every word is the truth,” Era stated, sipping tea with more ease this time around. “I have never lied, to my knowledge.”
“Alright, I’ll humor you,” Gabriel replied, smirking. “What was he like, ol’ Death? He as creepy as the legends say?”
“He was very hospitable,” he replied fondly, “and he always made sure I was happy.”
“Oh?”
“Yes, he would ask me every night at dinner how I felt.”
Gabriel propped himself up on an elbow. “And how did you feel?”
“Very… content.”
“Were you happy?” he asked, suddenly serious. “Content and happy are two different things.”
“I suppose…” He thought hard, scanning the ceiling for answers. “I thought I was happy, but it was different than I felt earlier when I learned my name or when you let me borrow yours. I think that was happiness; with Death, I felt merely… secure.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“I was free of worry. Death provided all my meals and free reign of the realm. We were the only two there; I never knew others existed besides us.
“And I was also very passive. I knew nothing. I never questioned anything, I actively resisted it.” He idly stroked a finger over his scar. “But then… well, fear broke down the barriers I had against my doubts. Now it feels like I couldn’t stop the questions if I tried, and I don’t want to try anymore anyway.”
“Huh.” Gabriel tapped his fingers against his upper arms in thought. “So you know next to nothing about the place, despite living there for God knows how long.”
“Yes. I know what it looked like and vaguely how the candles worked, but I didn’t know who put them there, or how they would flicker out or new ones would be lit, and I had certainly never tried reading any of the books.”
“That sucks.”
“Yes, I suppose it does.” Era sipped at his tea again, adjusting the robes slightly after putting down the cup.
“So what are you going to do now?”
“I’m… not really sure.” A shadow of doubt crossed his face. “I wanted to go back, but… now I’m not so sure. I don’t think I ever truly belonged there.”
“And you probably didn’t.” Gabriel sat up to take the empty teacup to the kitchen. “Maybe you belong here and you just don’t know it.”
“Here? In this house?” Era asked in awe.
Gabriel rolled his eyes. “In this realm, kid. You’re welcome here for a while, but you can’t stay forever. You know that, right?”
“I… that is fair, I think.” Gabriel did not miss the slight disappointment in his voice.
“Damn right.” Grabbing a wet rag, he wiped out the inside cup as Era sat in silence.
After many moments had passed, Era turned his head towards the kitchen. “Gabriel? I have a question for you, if you don’t mind me asking.”
“Let me hear it.”
“What is your Mage-Name?”
Gabriel briefly froze, caught off-guard by the query. “I don’t have one,” he eventually replied, returning to his dish-wiping. “I never graduated from the academy.”
“Oh… why is that?”
“Because I made some stupid decisions on ways to spend my free time,” he replied sourly. “That school was only for people who had the drive to become a mage. I was driven by… erm, other desires.”
“Like what?”
“Like stuff I’m not telling you about unless you specifically ask me about them first,” he replied with a chuckle. Era merely looked puzzled, which only amused Gabriel more.
“Gabriel, please slow down! I can’t keep up!” Era cried pitifully, trailing after his friend with a heavy bundle of wood in his arms. He tripped over his own feet, barely catching himself before falling flat on his face, and his waist-length hair, despite being pulled back as usual, was in a state of disarray.
“Geez, do you have any muscle at all?” Gabriel mocked, easily carrying twice what Era was.
Despite his tone, he was grinning wholeheartedly at his houseguest. Era had proven to be a very prim-and-proper guest since his appearance the week before, and the extra hand around the settlement was certainly useful. He’d even found himself growing fond of his effeminate roommate despite his initial misgivings. Guess it makes sense, he thought, I am old enough to be his father and childless. Guess he’s unintentionally filling that little hole in my life. He shifted the bundle of chopped logs in his arms. And he’s a good kid.
He watched as Era leaned over to pick up a dropped stick and accidentally dropped the rest of the bundle in the process. Dumb as a rock, but a good kid.
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