"Huh??"
***
[A deafening silence echoes throughout the dunes]
Both [Solan] and Sarah's eyes meet for the very first time.
[A light breeze eminates across the sand]
[Solan], still peaking his head above the corpse of his prey, hardens his stare towards Sarah. The young mage, frightened and confused, mouth still open, is trying desperately to decipher the situation.
[Solan] is a tall man, roughly around the same height as Arieth, maybe a little taller. Sarah, seeing a towering figure over a freshly slain titan corpse, is more than a little unsettled. What has her more confused is how this skinny, red-haired stranger felled this massive beast? Sarah almost died trying to fight a smaller one, so how could he? The man looked no older than 20, roughly around the same age as Sarah. After gazing closer at his face, she remarks, as though almost tired of seeing it, that the man is quite beautiful at that. [Solans'] gaze intensified, the bright fiery red eyes stared her down as if to pierce right through her. His two pupils sliced into vertical slits, as though the world's sharpest blade swiped clean through his iris.
'I… uh… who? No, what are you?"
[Faint echoes of flesh can be heard tearing off the corpse]
[Solans'] gaze intensifies further, eyes staring directly into hers. The mere pressure this guy's emitting is enough to kill someone; no wonder Sarah can't find the words to speak.
After taking another bite of the Sand worm, he turns around and sits back down, both horns still poking up from above the corpse.
Sarah: "E-Excuse me!" Sarah shouts out, voice quivering in fear. "H-How did you get… uh, here?"
[Solan:] "Rather rude way to introduce oneself."
Sarah, still shocked from almost being crushed moments earlier, is now frustrated with the attitude this stranger is giving her.
Sarah: "Rude? You almost killed me a moment ago! If anyones rude i-it's… you-"
Cutting Sarah off from her sentence, [Solan] stands back up and turns around, once again facing the young mage. Sarah, still frozen on the ground, can't help but feel mesmerized by this figure. He exudes this kind of elegance that one would see around a high priest or a temple guard, as though something in the realm of the divine wraps around him, covering him like a soft blanket. Doesn't change the intimidation factor, though.
With a push from over the corpse, the young dragon vaults over the dead beast, now his entire radiant form in full display. Every bit of his body, now exposed to the poor young mage cowering on the sands in front of him.
Sarah: "Oh… my god! Put some clothes on, you pervert!" She shrieks, all the intimidation seeming to melt away into embarrassment.
Confused, [Solan] looks around as if to look for this "Pervert."
"Does my being nude cause you discomfort?" [Solan] asks rather politely, twisting his head around, examining his form in full. "I find it rather freeing."
Sarah: "Yes, it does!" She said, still facing away from [Solan], now face beat red.
"Not that I wear clothes before, my wings would have gotten in the way, I suppose." He contemplated, now considering the transition into normalcy.
[Solan] now fully facing Sarah, notices the staff lying next to her, mesmerized by the intricate details lining it. Its hilt is carved out of the wood of a dark-oak tree, wrapped in a fine white cloth. Its hilt slowly bending and curving into an intricate spiral. Atop the spiral, a beautiful light blue crystal lies stagnant, suspended in the air. After which, he looks towards her. Sarah Chatsworth is a rather short girl, roughly around 160cm, with a decently skinny figure. She has long, brown hair tied down into two tiny pigtails on both ends. Her eyes emit this chilling blue, as though gazing into a snowy forest, forever trapped in a blanket of ice. He examined her clothes next. The first thing he noticed was the pitch black robe that covered the majority of her body, the only thing of variation on it was that the cuffs were lined with a flowing white lace. Her clothes consisted of a short, laced, tannish brown dress, held down by a brown belt around her hip.
Sarah, noticing his intense gaze, quickly stands up, face still beet-red from all the embarrassment of being stared at by a fully naked stranger with horns. Eyes closed, she begins to walk forward, taking off the robe she has on her person.
"Here!" She stated, giving the now folded robe to [Solan], her face still facing away. "Please put on some clothes!"
[Solan], still hesitant about the person in front of him, accepts the gift. As he tries to put it on, he quickly notices it won't fit his frame. If he were to try and put it on full, one quick motion from either of his arms, and the thing would rip straight down the middle.
Sarah, disappointed at the lack of effort on his part, accepts defeat, putting the folded robe down on the ground.
[Solan]: "I appreciate the offering, but sadly it does not seem to fit me…"
"I noticed," Sarah stated, now trying to fixate her gaze on his eyes.
As she gazes up towards [Solan], she remarks on how pristine his features are. Every part of his body seemed like it was molded to perfection, albeit a little skinny, but she didn't know that [Solan] had been trapped in the desert for a week. Noticing her gaze, [Solan] reaches his hand out towards her, placing his hand upon her head.
"Now, if you'll excuse me." He said, quickly turning around towards the corpse he had slain.
[A gust of wind blows from beyond the dunes]
Upon [Solan] turning around, Sarah notices the large scars on his back. They curved down both of his shoulder blades, burned in by a thick layer of skin. Tiny marks rest upon his back, cracks in the skin where his wings would be. All the embarrassment and fear Sarah felt towards this strange man now shifts to one of sympathy.
Perhaps not literally,
But she, too, had scars on her back.
With a quick motion, Sarah picked up her robe and slowly walked towards the strange young man, who was now crouched down next to the corpse. She then, slowly and steadily, slides the robe over the top of his back, shielding the scars from view. As if [Solan] could feel her intention, he did not jump back or act startled at this random act of kindness. Because for the first time in his whole life, he had felt compassion.
"Sarah Chatsworth" He said, mumbling under his breath.
"Hm?"
"Your name. Sarah Chatsworth, correct?" He said, now raising his voice for her to hear.
"Yup, you got it," She reaffirmed, a soft tone emanating from her voice.
She couldn't explain it. It was a though, all the tension she felt towards this strange young man no longer exists. As though all the fear and hesitation just melted clean off her. She felt some strange connect she could not explain, as though their souls resonated on the same hue – the same frequency.
"Do you have a name?" She asked, curious about this stranger's history.
Hesitant to reveal his title, [Solan] contemplated for a moment, deciding whether it was safe to reveal his true identity to this kind young girl. He decided against it, not out of distrust or a dislike for her, but a strange sense that if she knew who he actually was, it would only cause her trouble.
"No. At least, I don't know if I do," he said softly, as though sad at the thought.
[Solan], now cradled up in a ball within Sarah's robe, begins picking a piece off the corpse and eating it. Rather repulsed by the sight, Sarah looks away towards the horizon. The sun was beginning to set. Rays of yellow and orange light shot out across the dunes, wrapping the sands in a warm, soft light, as though the very desert was saying a heartfelt goodbye. The once blue sky now radiates a blissful red, a red that reminds one of a certain stranger's hair color.
[The whistling of sand dances around you]
Looking down at the strange young man, she contemplates for a moment.
'I got it,' she whispers to herself.
Sarah: "How about… Egan?"
"Egan?"
Sarah: "Yeah, in my home country, it means little fire or warmth. Suits you, right?" she said, proud of the work she's accomplished.
Egan: "Egan… I think… I like - that." He said, collapsing backwards into the arms of Sarah,
Sarah: "Woah, there, big guy. Get up! You're way too heavy."
[A soft breath emanates from the young dragon's mouth]
"He's out cold, huh? I wonder if he's gotten any rest?" Sarah says, even more curious about this man's backstory, "Speaking of recovery, where did Arieth go?"
***
A cold gaze stares at the pair in the distance. Two Midas touched eyes, fixed on their every move. Arieth Valmere, still fixated on his notebook, glances back up, facing the pair again.
"I was hesitant when I heard of the plan. I'm not one to be so trusting. Upon first seeing the girl again, I found nothing noteworthy, so leading her out into the desert seemed like an unnecessary chore. Guess I was wrong."
"I hate being proved wrong."
He speaks his thoughts aloud while writing them down in his notebook.
[The twinkle of falling snowflakes emanates from next to you]
"I don't remember asking for two escorts on my quest slip." He mocked, still facing the sunset.
"Isn't that right, Arch-mage?"
An old man, covered in a long gray coat with a giant hood obscuring his face, appears next to Arieth. His white beard still flowing out from under his piercing blue eyes, now more fierce than ever before.
"If you ever lay a hand on them again, I will kill you, Valmere. Or should I say, Honor?" Says the old man, a thick, gravely voice bellowing out with all the ferocity of a charging lion.
"Like you could, your way out of your prime, old timer. Don't make threats you can't back up. It could get you killed."
[A black mist begins enveloping your body]
"Sarah Chatsworth, after seeing him… maybe you're worth my attention after all." He says, slowly being enveloped in a black void.
"Thanks to you and that red-haired soul bearer."
"I am overcome with joy!"