Azarei's Quest

Chapter Eight

 Azarei's sword made a sickening wet sound as he pulled it from the last hell hound's body. He'd conjured the sword out of thin air, it was made of pure magic. He thought it was pretty awesome. Katar did not.

"You couldn't have turned these ones into frogs too?" Katar snapped, attempting to wipe the hound's blue black blood from his face but only smearing it.

"I thought you could use the exercise," Azarei joked. "You're getting kind of chubby, you know."

Katar glowered at him.

"Not that you got much exercise," Azarei continued. "I killed most of them. You're welcome by the way."

"I killed 9 of them," Katar said through his teeth.

"Yeah, but I killed 11," Azarei said, his lips downturned in a mocking frown. He walked closer to Katar and put a comforting hand on his shoulder. "I know you did your best, but it wasn't enough."

With a flick of his wrist Azarei's bloodsoaked blade disappears. Katar looks around them at the dead hell hounds strewn across the forest floor around them. It was truly a gruesome scene. The grass was stained black and red from both parties' blood, though there's much more black than red. The gore didn't seem to particularly bother either of them, both were used to killing to survive.

"All I'm saying," Azarei said, removing his hand from Katar's shoulder. "Is that you need to start pulling your weight."

"Pulling my weight," Katar repeated flatly.

"Yeah, exactly."
"I pull my weight," Katar said slowly.

"I mean..." Azarei trailed off, rubbing the back of his neck.

"You think I don't?"

"I just feel like I do more than you do."

Katar rolled his eyes. "You don't let me do things," he argued. "Even now that you know I'm a man. Every time I go to gather firewood you stop me because 'there could be sprites in the trees'."

"Sprites are dangerous!"

"They're glorified pixies!" Katar shoved his hand through his hair in exasperation, streaking it with blue, black blood.

"They're evil pixies."

"They're not evil!" Katar shouted. "They're territorial!" He shook his head. "I'm not going to argue about wood sprites with you."

"Good, because they're evil."

Katar sighed, very heavily and very dramatically, crossing his lean arms across his chest.

Azarei's eyes are drawn to the hound bite on his forearm. He layid his hand over it and mumbled a quick, "Curictus."

The skin around the bite began to mend itself at a mild speed. Katar looks at him with admiration in his eyes and Azarei can tell he's impressed him again. It makes his body flood with warmth. Azarei does the same for the bite on his leg then spells them both clean.

"I'll mend our clothes later," Azarei told him. "Best to save some juice in case we run into anything else."

"We didn't 'run into' them," Katar argued. "You wanted to take a shortcut through the dark part of the forest. What did you expect?"

The corner of Azarei's mouth raised into an amused half-smile. "It's 6 hours faster to go through here than to go around the lake," he points out. "Can't argue with those kinda numbers. And I didn't hear you complaining." He began walking along the path again, leaving the bodies of the hounds behind.

"Because I thought you'd handle it yourself like you did last time," Katar spat, walking alongside him. "I didn't think you would make me fight a pack of hell hounds just because you felt like getting some fucking exercise."

"The exercise wasn't for me," Azarei reminded him. "It was for you. If you're not careful you're going to be bigger than me soon."

Azarei was lying of course. Katar was as lean and beautiful as the first day he saw him. Azarei mostly just wanted to test out the magic sword, he'd never used it before and learned the incantation from a book he'd bought recently, but he thought telling Katar that would only land him in more trouble.

"I'm armed," Katar reminded Azarei with hostility in his voice. "I could kill you."

"I'd wait until we're out of the dark forest," Azarei suggested easily, unphased by Katar's threat. "If you kill me now who's going to save you from all of the beasts?"

"I killed 9 of them," Katar repeated.

"I killed 11, princess."
That comment earned Azarei a hard punch in the stomach, catching him by surprise, though it probably shouldn't. It stops him in his tracks and he doubles over in pain.

"That wasn't very nice Katar," he wheezes. He takes a second to let the pain fade a little then slowly straightens and begins walking again.

Katar doesn't reply to Azarei's comment, just keeps walking, his face impassive. Azarei is beginning to wonder if harsh words and mild violence were how he shows his affection. Or at least he hoped that was the case because he's on the receiving end of a lot of it.