An Ocean of Lies (AFOS II)

Chapter 22: Laurentius

Markolf went from puzzled, to happy, to wanting to rip his head off, to sobbing. Coming back from the dead did strange things to people, it seemed, particularly when they'd been brought up without their knowledge. He refused any drinks, at first, some Onturians gave up anything that might tamper with their powers, but after a while, he had no qualms about taking a swig directly from the bottle. That was progress. Something like it. Irene checked his pupils, his reflexes, while he sullenly drank, sip by sip, his eyes burning holes in Laurentiu's head. He'd been quiet, the whole time, his face the only indicator of his emotions: it would've been easier, better even, to hold a shouting match in the kitchen, the heat of it, the passion. But there would be time for it yet, and he truly didn't want Jo's grandma mixed in it.

"You didn't have the right to do it," Markolf whispered through his teeth, his voice slightly slurred. That was more like it.

"He speaks," Laurentius pulled his hair up, tying it in a bun.

Markolf stood up from the table he was sitting on, bottle in hand, tumbling ever so slightly. "You robbed me from it," he pointed the bottle at him. He wasn't yelling, so anticlimactic, but he'd take it. He was letting it out, he needed it. They both did, for different reasons.

"Of what, exactly? Of a second chance at life? How awful of me, how dare I, truly, I must be a monster," he taunted him. One slap. A shove, maybe. Anything. Markolf was too passive, one of the reasons he could never, ever, truly love him, as much as it pained him. He was a good man, amazing in so many ways: but he lacked passion.

"The afterlife, a spot by the side of the Creators," he took a swig. "Revenants don't go there. You made me into an abomination, this is no life," his voice, shaky, filled with bitterness.

"You don't believe that nonsense, do you?" Laurentius scoffed. Irene sat uncomfortably in a corner, holding an untouched glass, Wyn looked up, perhaps wondering if Jo's grandma was up already with all that movement in the kitchen. Laurentius focused on his staff, pulled magic from the fire, raw, zinging, he could feel it gathering on his skin, joining with his own at his fingertips. He was nearly empty, but he managed to gather enough superficial magic to cast a noise canceling spell around them before the angry whispering turned into full-blown racket. Koldo's wand lay on the table, it wasn't a great idea to bring that visibly angry onturian's attention towards it. He could burn it, break it, or worse: take it to his Knight Captain, Laverna's pet.

"You know I do. You know what I've given up for the order, what I gave up for you," he growled. "You made me a traitor, to myself, to my faith. But you don't care, you only care about yourself, about the great and oh so handsome Laurentius," he laughed, but he didn't look amused, not one bit. He was, though, quite tipsy. "And now I'm a monster, thank you so much, Laurentius, thank you," he put the bottle down. He would've gone for a nice throwing-the-bottle-to-the-fireplace feat, but that would suffice.

"You're right, I deserve every bit of your anger," he rolled his sleeves. "But I'm not sorry, not even a little. You'll thank me, in time," Laurentius sat on the chair Jo's grandmother used to peel potatoes on, right next to the sink. He ignored the leaking copper faucet, a mood-killer if there was ever one. Completely ruined the ambiance he was going for.

"You're not a revenant," Wyn sighed, rolling her eyes. She was a little cranky when she didn't sleep, and she'd missed more than one night. "Shut up, listen to me," she explained—her face a mix of utter annoyance and focus— how it all worked. They'd probably have to tell him, all over again, once he sobered up, but... was he? Interesting. His eyes, glossy and droopy not two minutes ago, were clear and alert. His body was purging the alcohol of his system, faster than Alaric blushed with a dirty joke. A side effect from his coming back from the dead or just a lovely perk of being an Onturian knight? It wasn't the right moment to ask him about it, although things could always be more awkward.