Genesis [malexmale]

Chapter Ten

Chapter Ten

The first battle came suddenly in the night.

The night had started in silence. Insects no longer chirped in the darkness, animals no longer rustling. The only sound in the forest was the occasional call of an owl, a smooth haunting sound that echoed through the trees before fading. Overhead, the sky was a blanket of billions of glittering stars, mists of blue and purple weaving them together.

The fortress was quiet, though, most did not sleep. The only lights came from handheld candles drifting through the darkness, whispers of creatures ghosting through the house. Above, Geara had turned in for the night, with much force, as she had refused to quit lying amongst piles of scrolls and books. It was only when Starkin gave her a solid hug that she melted into his arms and fell to sleep, having been given my permission to take her to her quarters to rest.

Meanwhile, Satanika had become my shadow. She followed me closely, even when there was truly no reason to. My encounter with Atlan had concerned her, in terms of my mental state, and she insisted on sticking close to ensure I did not snap.

I didn't plan to.

Not yet.

I had enough control to keep my emotions under lock and key. Atlan's threat, and his taunting, had done nothing more than strengthen my resolve over the situation, over my desire to capture him. I was unsure yet if I was to kill him. I was also unsure as to who it was that supposedly held the ultimate decision over his demise. I'd attempted to contact the Source over the several days following my encounter with the creature, however, I only received gentle hums in response, as if the Source was attempting to calm me and assure me that all would turn out as it should.

I did not like that response. I did not like it one bit.

It was the Source itself that warned me of Atlan, so surely the Source would be happy to inform me how to rid the universe of his stain. Yet no word, simply humming. A humming that sounded painfully similar to that of the owl off in the distance.

"Joxeia, it's cold out here." I stood at the edge of a terrace branching away from the family room, not turning to face Satanika. I could hear her boots creak on the sand and stone of the foundation as she approached, and she came to stand at my side, dressed in a pair of snug black pants and a loose flowing rose colored top. Her curls were coiled up into a loose knot atop her head, though a few stray strands bounced near her temples, fell to her shoulders and down the back of he neck.

"It's not too cold," I replied. Satanika arched a brow skeptically, then reached out to place a hand on my bare arm, as I wore only a sleeveless high collar top and black lounge pants. She scowled, rubbing at my arm before she stepped in close to put her arms around me.

"You're freezing, Jo! I can see your breath, yet you stand here in nary a jacket?" Her demand was hissed in concern, but her nickname caught me off guard as I turned to look at her questioningly.

"What did you call me?"

"Jo," Satanika declared, keeping her arms around me, and I could feel the heat of her body warming the physical cold, but it unfortunately did nothing for the coldness lingering in my chest, "I find that such a name suits you. The real you. The you that shall return one day. May it be tomorrow, or the day after, or the day after, or--"

"Yes, yes, I quite understand the length behind your estimation," I said dryly, reaching up to pry her arms from me, laying them at her sides, "Feel free to call me as you wish... As I shall call you something as well." Satanika raised her brow, folding her arms over her chest.

"It better be cute."

"Satan."

"Satan? That sounds so bland! Do I look bland to you?"