Satyrs At Dusk ✔

Chapter Seven

Maxwell recalled everything that happened from the day he saw a flicker to now, where a magical satyr stood in their bedroom. He told Myra the whole story, and at first she thought the two were simply pulling something.

She realized that they weren't joking.

"Where do you need to go? Like, where's the lyre thingy?" she asked, scratching her neck nervously. Saevel summoned an orb and presented a picture of the meadow in broad daylight. A cave entrance sat nearby, eroded into a large rock structure.

"The lyre is holed up in Yewleaf Meadow in Wyoming. It's under protection by a man named Ethryn. He played an important role in our history, as he was the first ever human we've met." Saevel explained, waving his hand as the particles inside the orb rearranged. Another picture formed, and this time it was of a large creature.

The creature was a large aerial predator. It was covered in thick, coarse feathers. Their colors were predominantly composed of pale yellow, soft ruby and dull grey. The tail feather was long, wide and flat, consisting of the same marigold color that coated its body.

The beak was short and plump, akin to the shape of a walnut. There were two eyes on either side of the head, which were colored in magnificent, reflective teal. There were large golden feathers peaking up from behind its head of soft fur, and allowed one large glowing ring of orange to each feather.

"This is Kawe, a tropical bird from the lands of Unore. This is Ethryn's pet beast, held under control by strong magical bonds."

The bird tilted its head in one quick, stiff motion, almost like a twitch. A man with short brown hair and reddened eyes approached from the darkness of the cave, and calmly approached the creature. He stroked a hand against the lemon-colored feathers.

He cooed to the bird in a devious tone, "You are an asset." In response it let out a low, vibrating cluck from the back of its throat. The large wings shifted and its head craned back to dig at its sides. It shook like a wet dog, fluffing up its feathers. Then, it opened its mouth and let out a grating squawk, echoing around the meadow like an angel's call.

Saevel watched with a desolate expression, eyes narrowed towards the bird. "Kawe is being kept against her will. From what I can understand, a barrier around the meadow prevents her from flying off." he explained. His voice was low and solemn.

"She isn't a threat. She's just being used as a liability. We need to rescue her and get that lyre back." His brow was drawn downwards, as he was determined to set off the next minute. Maxwell stood from the bed and placed a hand on Saevel's bare shoulder. The satyr shuddered at the foreign touch.

"I know you want to go, but let's at least stay overnight. Just this once, okay?"

Saevel mused. He then nodded in agreement. "Fine. We'll sleep on it. But first thing in the morning, we need to get moving."

"Roger that." Maxwell grinned, saluting in a playful manner. Myra sat dumbfounded.

"You plan on taking me with you?" she asked once the room fell silent. Saevel's eyes were on her in a flash. His hooves clapped against the floor in anxiety.

"Y-...You're willing to come?" he stammered.

"Of course. Like I'd turn something as awesome as this down! I didn't even know satyrs were real until I saw one, let alone magic and creatures like that." She grinned, sticking her tongue out like a rockstar.

Her tongue piercing showed visibly, making Saevel reel back in confusion and disgust. Myra cackled loudly, tumbling back on her elbows.

When midnight came around, Myra retreated back to her bedroom. Saevel crawled into Maxwell's bed and let out a sigh. Maxwell sat at his desk, watching the raven black sky. He nervously tapped a pencil against the wood of his desk. 'I'm going to sleep with him,' he thought sparratically, as this situation felt so surreal. To change the subject and sway his mind from what was bound to happen, Maxwell spoke.

"Hey, were you an outcast before this?"

"A little. The people of Taintpine never really acknowledged my presence. That was until Empress Luhlo chose me for the mission. The other night, I tried calling out to you through a spell I recently learned. You never brought it up, so I thought the spell hadn't worked."

Maxwell thought back to hearing a voice crying out in a dream. After a while, Maxwell replied. "No, I heard you. I didn't mention it because I presumed it was just a dream." Saevel flinched at that.

"Oh.. Uh, sorry you had to hear it. I was in distress. I sought comfort and you... you were my only option." Saevel's voice was soft and distant. Maxwell turned to see his face, only to pause in shock. Thick tears streamed down Saevel's painted face and his bottom lip quivered a little. Maxwell rushed out of his chair and dropped to his knees in front of the satyr.

Maxwell wiped his tears with a gentle stroke and pulled the satyr to his chest, rocking him back and forth. Saevel blushed and his eyes tinted red at the stress. His watery eyes closed as he unwound.

"Don't cry, please." Maxwell whimpered. Something inside him bubbled up, hot and painful. He cradled the satyr in his arms as he wept.

Desperately, Saevel clutched onto Maxwell's arm and cried into his shirt. As Maxwell stroked his back, he realized that Saevel's sobs were almost akin to those of a goat's call. That was all the more saddening. After a few solids minutes, Saevel's wails crumbled into little shy sniffles.

"Nn," Saevel pushed up with his knuckles, messily wiping his flushed face, "thank you.. I doubt any other person could willingly hold me like you are now. They'd be too disgusted." He let out a tired, humorless chuckle. Maxwell's face bloomed with bright red and he began to stammer.

"Uh, w-well.. I-I, heh, thanks..? I guess?"

Saevel smiled for the first time in what seemed like decades. Maxwell had never seen that smile before.

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Maxwell couldn't sleep; not with a sleeping satyr nestled into his side, not with soft breath feathering against his neck or a limp hand, that wasn't his, over his stomach. Saevel's peaceful face nearly made Maxwell squeal.

The satyr's horns were rested against Maxwell's burning cheek. His blush was so strong that he was sure it would wake Saevel.

His heart never beat so fast in his life.

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