Satyrs At Dusk ✔

Chapter Twenty-Three

Maxwell pushed open the front door to see Kawe landing, claws scraping the concrete sidewalk. Myra was clinging onto her back with a cheek-splitting grin. She whooped and slowly climbed off of the giant bird, a hop in her step. She seemed so alive; so fluid.

Myra was back.

"That was awesome! I saw Kawe outside the tavern window and I went outside, and she did this woosh woosh thing with her wings and this gold ribbon-thingy wrapped around me and sucked all the black magic out! I'm completely healed thanks to this cutie!" she explained hastily.

Maxwell shot forward and embraced her tightly, spinning the two around in a semicircle. "I'm so glad you're okay, I really could have lost you there!" he wailed, making her scoff with a pleased smile. "I don't know what I would do if my idiot sister died."

"Well you better buckle up cause you're stuck with me for eternity." She clapped his shoulder and brushed the hair from her face, tucking it back behind her ear. Maxwell laughed gently, digging into his pocket for the necklace Penelope had given them back at her camp.

"Penelope wanted me to give this to you. It's to summon her whenever you need her. She said something like... Ah I can't remember. Maybe Saevel remembers." He ushered Myra into the house while Kawe patiently waited outside, pecking at the little chunks of sidewalk she'd chipped from her talons.

Myra was guided to Maxwell's room, the portal still there with a certain satyr within it. He was sitting by the fire, lulled back into his chair with his head hanging back. His eyes were closed and his chest rose slowly, only to sink back down and repeat.

"Hey," Maxwell said, standing before the portal. The satyr jolted, obviously hearing him. His eyes pried open and he sluggishly scrambled from the chair to stand in front of the human. He rubbed his eyes and flipped back the messy hair from his shoulders. "What was the spell that Penelope gave us? With the necklace, I mean. She told us to say something to summon her."

Saevel didn't miss a beat. "She said to squeeze the gem tightly and chant, "sahe'a iyair" and she'll come." Maxwell chanced a look at Myra to see if she was paying attention. Her eyes never moved from Saevel, brows concentrated narrowly.

"You got that?" Maxwell asked. She nodded and gripped the gem of the necklace, the silver chain drooping and jingling by her wrist. She looped it around her neck and wore an excited grin.

"Should I summon Penelope and tell her I'm okay? I mean, I know she's busy but I can't wait to see her again!" she exclaimed. Then her voice lowered to just less of a whisper. "Pretty elf girl."

Maxwell caught her comment and shot a droll glance to Saevel, who just quietly chuckled.

"Go ahead."

_

Two weeks had passed since then. Every week, Penelope would visit three times.

Imni would sometimes come with her, and other times Aimon would tag along with Imni. Penelope and Myra spent most of their time in the living room either playing video games or talking back and forth non-stop.

There was tension between the two, something strong held back. They would blush and occasionally brush back their hair, and Maxwell teased Myra about it all the time.

Now Penelope was in the kitchen, leaning against the counter as Myra washed the dishes. Saevel and Maxwell were at the dining table secretly spying on them.

"Now that we've started to make a camp near New York, there are new clients and we barely have enough assassins to cover all the contracts. We're booming with business thanks to you lot." Penelope explained as the sink water rang through the kitchen. Myra shut off the water and wiped her hands.

"And you guys haven't even settled yet." Myra added, making the Arid elf nod with a triumphant smirk.

"Yeah. Turns out New York has a lot of people who need to be killed. We're starting tomorrow. Lord Imni is going first since he told me to stay back." The Arid elf pushed herself off the counter and glanced at Myra, in all her messy glory.

Her hair was a rat's nest, even if it was pulled up into the tightest ponytail she could manage. Her pink latex shorts hugged her thighs tightly, but they were barely visible over the baggy shirt she wore.

"Do you always dress like that?" Penelope blurted, making the girl turn around and blush with frantic eyes.

"What? No... of course not-" she straightened her posture and cleared her throat, scratching her temple nervously. "-is there something wrong with it..?" she managed. Penelope's ears twitched upwards and she smiled, which wasn't often, rolling her eyes to the two men at the table.

"Does she always dress like a homeless person?" she asked them.

"As her brother, I would know. Yes." Maxwell raised his hand with a smug look on his face, making Myra pin him with a sharp glare.

"Wow. Thanks Somer Himpson."

"No problem, Geter Priffin."

Saevel glanced between the siblings with a brow raised. Penelope on the other hand, let out a laugh at their bickering. Maxwell leaned forward to whisper in Saevel's ear.

"Those two are madly in love." Maxwell murmured, making Saevel agree with a tentative smile. The satyr pushed back the short red bangs from the human's face, tucking the curls behind his ear.

"Like us?" Saevel muttered with a gaze so intense it could bore a hole through Maxwell. The human ran his tongue over his bottom lip and grinned awkwardly.

"Y-Yeah. Like us."

_

"So where did the giant bird go? Kawe, was it?" Penelope asked over the chatter of streamers from the TV. Myra rubbed her palms eagerly, preparing to tell the dramatic story.

Then a deafening crash roared through the house, a satyric wail following. Shouting came from downstairs and a series of bangs sounded from below, vibrating the walls and rattling the windows. Penelope was quick to throw open the door and dash through the hallway, Myra hot on her heels.

They shoved down the stairs to see a middle-aged woman, enraged and red-faced. She had a tight grip on Saevel's horn.

The siblings' mother was home.

The woman roughly yanked the satyr's horn forward to elicit an animalistic cry from Saevel. Maxwell was trying to pull her off, his arms looped around her shoulders from under her arms. The smell of alcohol hung thickly through the air, and an older man, maybe in his late fifties, was standing by the doorway, a plump wad of cash in his hand.

"What the..?" Myra uttered, running past Penelope and shaking her mother by the shoulders. "What the hell are you doing??" she managed through panicked breaths.

"Get this fucking thing out of my house!" she shrieked furiously, her teeth stained with cigarette smoke and booze. Her words slurred, "Monster! Disgusting creature! This thing is horrible!"

Saevel was completely out of magic. All of his energy was drained from the fairly recent events. He wanted to kick her and bite, but something in his gut told him not to.

So, he helplessly let the drunken mother wrangle him around like cattle. Her fist tightened around the satyr's horn and something inside cracked, making Saevel cry out. His voice broke on the note.

Maxwell yanked at her, eventually prying the drunkard from the satyr. Saevel stumbled back and gasped for breath, whining lowly at his damaged horn. Penelope rushed over and tried healing it with magic while Maxwell struggled to contain her belligerence.

She whipped around and backhanded him.

__