The Past is Never Dead

Chapter Four

"Are you sure?" Kelric looks at him doubtfully, "I am afraid things may be worse in Albright." He fiddles with a string on the blanket, biting the inside of his cheek as he ruminates over the possibilities.

"I'll be alright," Macsen reassures him, stepping closer. He lifts his hand halfway to Kelric's face before letting it fall to his side.

Kelric stares at his hand before standing from the mattress, "We should get ready, it is quite late." Macsen stammers out an agreement, quickly going to grab clothes from his bag.

Kelric follows suit, slipping on a white robe with shaking hands. He tucks the chain around his neck underneath the cloth. He looks over at Macsen, who secures his leather breastplate and the sheath at his belt. He notices the way Macsen purposely avoids looking at him altogether, keeping his eyes to one side of the room.

He hoists his bag over his shoulder, "Are you ready to go?" He walks to the door without looking back, waiting for confirmation before opening it.

"Mhm," He hums, staring at Macsen's back as he exits the room. He walks faster than Kelric, keeping his distance from the elf. He attempts to swallow away the knot in his throat so as not to appear querulous, but he still feels tears prick the corners of his eyes. Macsen doesn't look back at him, not once to make sure if he's still following or to merely check in. He feels that if Macsen noticed he was not there, he would surely look for him, but he's noticed the man growing distant. He doesn't speak of his emotions, no longer initiates touch, is more irritable.

He breathes deeply, exhaling his uncertainty into the atmosphere, but his lingering sadness doesn't dissipate.

"Macsen?" The man halts at the top of the stairs, hand gripping the railing. He doesn't say anything so Kelric continues, "I got you something yesterday." His heart speeds up as he reaches into his bag. Macsen has turned to look at him but remains silent, a curious glint in his eyes. Kelric grabs the box he got from Duvnae, gently grabbing the sword necklace from within. He hangs it in front of Macsen who grabs it and inspects the pendant.

For the first time in forever, Kelric's perfect composure cracks, "I-I was not sure you would enjoy it, but you do not have to accept it." His words muffle the longer he talks, but Macsen pays no mind. He places it against his neck, pressing the metal ball of one end into the loop of the other. He looks at the sword against his chest, the white gold embellished with small blue jewels.

"It's nice," He says, smiling thankfully.

"I have a matching one, but I do not have to wear it if you are not comfortable with that." Kelric looks at the ground, toying with the box in his hand.

"Why wouldn't I be comfortable with that?" He asks, and although his brows furrow in genuine confusion, he doesn't seem to agree with himself.

Kelric opens his mouth to speak, but fails to find the correct words. He pulls the necklace out, gently clasping it around his neck. Macsen stares at it, before taking a step closer.

He pulls gently at the chain until the sword slides into the shield, smiling softly. Kelric stands on the tips of his toes so their pendants can reach. Macsen looks back at Kelric, his eyes widening as he stares into Kelric's eyes. He pushes him away with nearly enough force to send him to the floor. They lock eyes before he hurries down the stairs, the elf close behind.

"By the gods, took you guys long enough," Kissos exasperates, "Did you-"

"If you say anything even remotely related to sex, I will have your head on a stake," Macsen sighs, sitting beside the tiefling. Kelric stares at him for a moment before taking his seat between Kissos and Phigalia. The latter smiles at him comfortingly, her eyes staring at the necklace that sits upon his chest. She glances over the top of Kissos' head to Macsen, her gaze not lingering more than a second.