Aureate Fates

5

Marisol wiped her moist palms on her black pants. "Reese, I'm sorry, I'm just—"

He shook his head with finality. "Have a good fight. Remember to duck."

When he walked past Marisol, she wished she had the courage to thank him for the gift—the mystery elixir that she would have to rely on now. 

Thirty minutes.

Thirty dammed minutes till she had to burn Kyra to the ground.

                  
                                 —REESE—

He shouldn't have walked off, shouldn't have left her to prepare alone. He shouldn't have, but he didn't quite feel like hearing the truth. The truth about distancing from Jaak.

As Reese shoved his way through the crowd, aiming to reach the bathroom, he began to heal his wounds. Releasing his magic bit by bit.

He didn't have to use his power at all for the opponent he just faced. It wasn't an easy battle, but it was one that didn't require magic. Just flesh and bone. 

He already felt his cuts retracting. Not all at once, but slowly. Reese never learned a faster way of healing.

He needed to wash his face properly before watching Marisol's fight. Focus was something he sought. Thema once told him to splash a bit of water on his face after a fight—it would calm the adrenaline in his veins, make him less likely to unleash the lingering aggression on someone innocent.

After the coolness of the water graced his face, he'd apologize to Marisol. Apologize for his impulsive irritation. If only the crowd wasn't so big, he'd finally be—

Someone crashed into him.

Clear blue eyes halted him dead in his tracks. Thick, golden silk for hair and a boyish face. The face he found rather boring.

The boys' eyes widened as he beheld Reese from the floor that was littered with pieces of sharp glass and strange liquids—liquids he did not want to know the source of. Drew Orvar was unaware of the giant foot that was inches away from crushing his hand—a hand made for quills and parchment. Reese acted without thought.

He roughly hauled the boy up from the ground, not caring if he was startled by the sudden contact. Drew appeared awe-struck, almost as if he wasn't sure how he landed on the floor.

"What are you doing here?" Reese growled, eyeing the rabble of raging citizens. He returned his attention to Drew. "And what were you doing on the floor? Certainly you can't be that dense."

It had only been this morning when Reese had to ward off the beggar who approached Drew like he was a meal. Perhaps, Reese should have let the circumstances play out. Should have stayed out of the mess.

Reese could feel the boiling of his skin. He knew it was the aftermath of the fight, the lingering aggression Thema warned him of. He tried to keep it on a leash as he spoke to Drew, but the tactic didn't prove to be promising.

"You ran into me," Drew voiced, subtly giving the man beside them a cautious look. He was stubby and eyed Drew with a sort of madness.

A result of limitless alcohol.

"If I was anyone else here, you'd be gutted for talking to me that way," Reese stated, truthfully. "I'm sure Erik doesn't know his littlest brother is playing rebel at a fight club."

Drew's face scrunched in distaste, "My brother mustn't know everything I'm up to. Besides, I'm not here alone. I'm in the company of another."

Reese gave a dark laugh. "Yeah? In that case, I'm sure your company is as stupid as you are."