章節 24: Old friend
Ezra and Korr stirred awake in the modest inn they had found in Tavelon the previous evening. The morning sun streamed through the cracks in the shutters, casting long slivers of light onto the wooden floor. Korr groaned as he sat up, rubbing his temples with both hands.
"Ugh, I think I drank too much," he muttered, his voice hoarse. "This headache is killing me. I still can't get over that you don't drink at all. You seem like the overly serious type who'd love a good beer after a fight."
Ezra ignored the bear-man's ramblings, sitting cross-legged on his bed, his chin resting on one hand. His dark eyes stared at the wall, though his mind was far from the room. Son of Elthar, the words echoed endlessly, like ripples across a still pond.
Korr's voice faded into the background as Ezra replayed the mysterious woman's warning in his mind. He knew he was of the Elthar bloodline, a clan scattered and nearly forgotten. But the way she spoke—like Elthar wasn't just a lineage but something far greater, something alive and tangible—made his skin prickle with unease.
"She called me son of Elthar," Ezra murmured to himself, his voice barely audible. The emphasis she placed on that word gnawed at him. Was it really as simple as being a descendant of the clan? Somehow, he doubted it. There was weight in her words, something more profound than he could grasp at the moment.
"Ezra!" Korr's voice snapped him out of his thoughts. The bear-man was standing now, stretching his massive arms with a groan. "You're brooding again. You've been doing that since we got here. What's eating at you?"
Ezra shook his head, his fingers brushing the hilt of his sword instinctively. "Nothing," he lied. "Just… thinking about what's next."
Korr raised an eyebrow but didn't press further. "Well, I know what's next for me," he said with a grin. "Breakfast. And lots of it."
Ezra let out a faint chuckle despite himself. "Go ahead. I'll catch up."
As Korr lumbered out of the room, humming a tune he'd probably made up on the spot, Ezra sat in silence for a moment longer. Who was she? he wondered. And more importantly, what did she mean about the danger to come?
The weight of her words hung heavy, but Ezra knew one thing for certain: he couldn't afford to dwell on it for long. Whatever was coming, he needed to be ready.
Ezra walked downstairs, his boots creaking against the aged wooden steps. He immediately spotted Korr at a table near the corner, surrounded by six plates piled high with an assortment of meats, breads, and fruits. A large glass of fruit juice sat in front of him, and Korr was shoveling food into his mouth with the enthusiasm of a starving beast, either oblivious to or ignoring the strange glances he was drawing from the other patrons.
Ezra sighed, shaking his head, and made his way over. As he sat down across from Korr, his sharp gaze swept the room, catching the eyes of several gawking onlookers. He shot them a glare so icy it could freeze fire, and they quickly turned back to their meals, murmuring apologies under their breath. Satisfied, Ezra called over the waitress.
The woman approached with a pitcher of fruit juice and refilled Korr's glass, muttering something about "never seeing anyone eat this much." She turned to Ezra and froze, the color draining from her face. The pitcher slipped from her hands, crashing to the floor and spilling juice everywhere.
"Ezra?" she gasped, her voice trembling. She darted forward and grabbed his face, holding it as if to confirm what her eyes were seeing. "By the Twelve, it really is you! My gods, Ezra, you never even came to visit!"
Ezra blinked in confusion at first, his mind scrambling to place her familiar face. But as realization dawned, his brow furrowed, and his lips parted in recognition. "Serena?" he said, incredulity thick in his tone. "What the hell are you doing in Tavelon? The last time I saw you was… Shit, the start of the Rebellion. What are you doing working as a waitress in some inn? I still get nightmares about how ruthless you were on the battlefield!"
Serena stepped back slightly, her hands still shaking. "Life doesn't always go as planned, Ezra," she said, her tone soft but laced with something deeper—regret, maybe. "The Rebellion ended, and so did my purpose. I tried to stay with the military, but…" She trailed off, shaking her head. "Let's just say, I couldn't stomach the politics. So, I found my way here. It's quiet enough, and nobody asks questions."
Korr, now thoroughly invested despite his mouth being full, pointed at Serena with a turkey leg. "Wait, this is the legendary Serena of the Rebellion? The one they called the 'Crimson Viper' because of how fast she struck? She's... shorter than I expected."
Serena scowled at him, and Ezra let out a short laugh. "Don't let her size fool you, Korr. She could take your head off before you even blinked."
Serena smirked at the compliment, though her eyes held a distant sadness. "That was a long time ago," she said quietly. "And I'm not that person anymore."
Ezra studied her for a moment, noting the lines of weariness etched into her face. "Still, it's good to see you," he said finally. "Even if it's under... odd circumstances."
Serena nodded, her expression softening. "Likewise. You haven't changed much, Ezra. Still getting yourself into trouble, I bet."
"You have no idea," Ezra muttered under his breath.
Serena settled into the seat beside Ezra, her head resting lightly on his shoulder. Her striking red hair spilled down, a stark contrast against his dark shirt. "So, what brings you to Tavelon, Ezra? Still running headlong into trouble, I see."
Ezra smirked, glancing at her. "Started my own mercenary company. Just wrapped up an escort job. Give it a bit, and my story should be reaching your ears soon, Miss Waitress."
Serena chuckled softly, lifting her head to look at him. "An escort, huh? Dressed like that? How amusing." She gestured to his worn black shirt and pants, the only decent piece of his ensemble being his well-maintained boots.
Ezra shrugged, giving his outfit a once-over. "I had armor, but that escort job turned into a mess. Ran into a damned Chaos Paladin, and let's just say it was more trouble than it was worth. Still, got a decent haul of coin from it." He paused, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studied her. "Speaking of fighting, I don't sense any Aether from you. What the hell happened?"
Serena's smile faltered, though she didn't move from his shoulder. Her voice was quieter when she spoke. "Remember what I said about politics? Yeah. I got offered some high-ranking positions after the Rebellion, and Trevor didn't like that much. So, he had me poisoned. It targeted my Aether veins. They managed to save my life, but only by sealing them off completely. I can barely even use Aether-powered tech now."
She glanced away, her voice thick with emotion. "After that, they tried marrying me off to some noble. Thought I'd settle down and be a good little political pawn. I wasn't interested, so I left. And now..." She gestured around the modest inn, her voice cracking as tears welled in her eyes. "Now look at me."
Ezra's jaw tightened as he listened, his frown deepening. Gently, he reached over and wiped away a stray tear. "Sounds just like that bastard Trevor," he said, his tone sharp. "He always was jealous and petty. This just proves it."
Serena blinked at him, her lips trembling into a bittersweet smile. "Thanks, Ezra. I've missed having someone around who actually gets it."
Ezra gave her a soft smile in return, but before the moment could grow any more sentimental, Korr leaned across the table with a dramatic groan. "Alright, enough of this sappy reunion!" he exclaimed, waving a drumstick in the air. "If you two are going to flirt like that, at least get a room or something. I swear, I've barely seen Ezra do anything but grimace and brood. This is too much!"
Serena let out a startled laugh, wiping her eyes as Ezra shook his head, exhaling in exasperation. "You've got no tact, Korr," Ezra muttered, though his tone carried a hint of amusement.
Korr grinned unapologetically, chomping into his food. "Tact's overrated."
Ezra ordered a plate of sausage and eggs along with a pitcher of apple juice. Serena nodded, giving him a playful smirk before heading to the kitchen to fetch his order.
The moment she was out of earshot, Korr leaned forward, resting his elbows on the table. His sharp eyes locked onto Ezra, and a mischievous grin spread across his face. "So," Korr began, his tone dripping with mock curiosity, "what's your relationship with the Crimson Viper?"
Ezra chuckled, shaking his head as if he'd been expecting the question. "We're close friends," he said casually, leaning back in his chair. "She was a good help in keeping me somewhat sane during the Rebellion. Truly sad what happened to her, though."
Korr's grin didn't fade, but his tone grew more pointed. "Uh-huh, close friends, you say. Look, I've seen how 'close friends' look at each other, and it isn't like that. You two were basically having sex with your eyes back there. Now spill it—what's the truth?"
Ezra sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose, though a small smile tugged at the corner of his lips. "Korr, you've got the imagination of a tavern bard."
"Maybe," Korr said with a shrug, "but I also have eyes, and I know chemistry when I see it."
Ezra didn't respond immediately, instead meeting Korr's playful gaze with a steady, unyielding look. "You can think what you want," Ezra finally said, his tone calm but firm. "The truth is, Serena and I fought alongside each other through hell. That kind of bond doesn't always need explanations. It just is."
Korr tilted his head, studying Ezra for a moment before breaking into a laugh. "Fine, fine. I'll let it go—for now. But if she starts batting her lashes at you over breakfast, don't think I won't call you out on it."
Ezra smirked, shaking his head as Serena returned with his food, completely unaware of the conversation she'd just missed.
Ezra finished his meal, wiped his mouth with a napkin, and then pulled a small card from his pocket, handing it to Serena. "If you ever get tired of dealing with customers harassing you, come find me. I'll accept you with open arms, no questions asked."
Serena smiled warmly, her red hair catching the light of the morning sun filtering through the windows. She leaned in and kissed him lightly on the cheek before giving him a gentle push forward. "I'll think about it," she said with a smirk. "But for now, go see about those armor shops in the city. You're not walking around in rags if I have anything to say about it."
Ezra chuckled, nodding as he stood. "Fair enough. Thanks, Serena."
As they stepped outside, Korr crossed his arms and gave Ezra a long, exaggeratedly suspicious look. "Alright, Mister Just Close Friends, I've never seen just close friends do that." His tone dripped with mock outrage, but there was a glint of humor in his eyes.
Ezra shook his head, laughing as they started down the cobbled street. "You're reading way too much into it. It was just a kiss on the cheek, Korr. Relax."
Korr raised an eyebrow, his grin widening. "Sure, sure. Next, she's going to embroider a 'just friends' banner and parade it around. Real convincing, Ezra."
Ezra rolled his eyes, the corner of his mouth quirking up in a smirk. "Let it go, Korr. Now, let's go find some damn armor before I regret dragging you along."
The two of them strode off toward the market district, Korr still chuckling under his breath as Ezra tried—and failed—to ignore him.
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