Sweet warmth sought deep inside him, he felt like clouds had decided to be his bed for today and the sun had agreed to make him warm.
The comfort, it was addicting. It made him wanna never wake up. If this was a dream of him sleeping, then he wished to sleep like this forever.
However, everything must come to an end. Even this mesmerising and soul-rejuvenating dream.
When Orion woke, the first thing he noticed was the softness.
Not the coarse stone of a dungeon floor, nor the cold ache of death lingering in his bones, but something warm, yielding, almost unreal. The air around him carried a faint sweetness, like summer fields after rain, and the warmth seeped into him slowly, patiently, as though mending something far deeper than muscle and bone. His body felt loose, heavy in the pleasant way that came after deep rest.
'It wasn't a dream ?' He blinked, failing to comprehend whether he woke up or was still sleeping.
For a few long seconds, he did not question it. Whatever it was, it was the best thing he had experienced in his life.
He lay there, breathing, relaxed in a way that felt dangerous. Dangerous, addicting.
Then confusion crept in.
Where was he? The last thing he remembered was steel, darkness, the Dark Knight's blade flashing—then nothing. That headless bastard starting to use traps against him. He died, revived, and died again. He kept that on, doing it again and again until he couldn't just remember anymore.
No pain. No light. No rebirth scream. Just blank.
Frowning, Orion shifted slightly—and froze.
An arm tightened around him.
Not hostile. Not restraining. Holding. A little too tight. If the hand wasn't the most beautiful godly hand he had seen in his life, then he might have mistaken it for being crushed by a gorilla. That strength didn't make any sense on that arm.
His eyes snapped open when the arm started to roam somewhere else.
He was pressed against something soft. Comforting. Unmistakably feminine.
Slowly, dreadfully slowly, his gaze lifted.
Marika.
She lay beside him near the Site of Grace, golden hair spilling loose over the grass, her arm wrapped firmly around his shoulders, his head cradled against her chest as though it belonged there. She was fully clothed—something Orion didn't know whether to be grateful about or curse his luck—but that did nothing to lessen the intimacy of the situation.
Orion jolted upright on pure instinct.
Or tried to. That angelic-gorilla arm didn't let him move an inch.
[Rest, you fool. Before your foolish actions turn you into dust again…]
Marika said sharply. The tone wasn't as intimate as the position, honestly. She almost sounded pissed.
Her grip tightened, ironclad despite her slender frame, and she pulled him back down without effort, pressing his head firmly against her softness, his head digging a few centimetres until breath started to become an issue. Though with that, he was breathing, little breathing was also felt doable.
Her sweet smell imprinted inside his mind like a baby chick remembers its mother's face right after hatching.
Orion's face burned, though. This time not by the closeness, gods know he had enough of that, but rather the protective feeling he got from that hold Marika had on him. Like she wouldn't hear a thing about it.
"G—goddess-!" he started, voice cracking like a boy half his apparent age. Though he himself wasn't that old. Only in his early twenties when he was reincarnated. Though he acted like a 10 year old right now.
Completely flustered.
[Quiet]
She snapped. Then, softer,
[You are not done resting. Rest !]
He lay there, stiff as a board for a moment, heart pounding loud enough he was certain she could hear it. Slowly, reluctantly, the warmth sank back in. The steady rise and fall of her breathing grounded him. The Grace nearby hummed faintly, like a lullaby dragging him back to La-La Land.
Against his will, his muscles loosened.
…This was comfortable.
For the first time, a strange thought crossed his mind—something he himself wouldn't have expected, but it was sincere.
'If I had ever known a mother… perhaps it would have felt something like this. Right !'
For a grown man to act like this felt so embarrassing, but for an orphan child, he just couldn't stop himself from experiencing this feeling once in this life. A feeling that someone was out there who cared for him.
Not because if something were to happen to him, the company had to pay remunerations. Not because if he was gone, then there wouldn't be anyone to pay rent.
But just cared. That was rare and unfamiliar.
The thought made his chest ache. 'I'm a bit pitiful, heh… ' he internally snorted at his condition. Acting this helpless and soft…but he didn't hate it. It was, as he stated, strangely comforting.
"…What happened?" he asked quietly. "I don't remember."
Marika looked down at him, golden eyes sharp.
Then she snorted.
[Of course you don't…You collapsed] she said flatly. [Again]
[Before you even managed to leave the Site of Grace. Face-first like a sack of grain.]
Orion winced. "Oh."
'No wonder she was pissed.'
Her voice shifted then—not gentler, exactly, but edged with something unfamiliar. Concerned, perhaps.
[You drove your body, mind, and soul beyond reason, you foolish Tarnished. I warned you, didn't I…]
She continued.
[Dozens of deaths. Repeated revival. You treated your existence as though it were an expendable tool. You really expect you won't break just because you can revive…]
Her arm tightened again, this time unconsciously.
[I have seen Tarnished fall to far less. You are indeed blessed with grace for it to bend to your will like that, reviving you at your every whim…However, whether it is mortals or gods, everyone has their limits.]
Orion swallowed. He didn't argue. Couldn't, really, when the ending of her tone became almost sorrowful and her hand was now gently caressing his hair.
Then came the lecture, like a tide.
She chided him for his recklessness. For trying to brute-force mastery through suffering. For mistaking persistence for wisdom. Her words were sharp, precise, each one striking exactly where it hurt.
He swore to god women have this superpower to make you feel guilty more than you actually are.
However, Orion didn't completely dislike it, because beneath the scolding he found genuine concern for him—almost like his own mother, if she existed, would have done.
It was wrong, but he sneakily felt happy.
[You are not forged from iron] she said quietly. [Even iron cracks when struck without rest.]
"I know, I won't do it again…moth-goddess, I mean goddess. I won't do it again."
He lowered his head, cheek pressed to her chest, hiding his flustered face.
Marika blinked. She obviously caught that little slip-up, and for a second went into a trance.
[Mother… how long tis been since I heard that word. That someone called me that]
She murmured to herself, recalling all her children. They all were gone. Twisted, distanced, slain.
[If it be your wish, you may call me mother. I would not begrudge it, nor turn from it]
She paused and then finally spoke with a hesitant tone.
Orion felt like he heard it wrong.
"I-I'm not your son…" He slowly relayed. While he liked this motherly attention, he didn't wish to be someone's replacement. Nor was he actually looking for a mother figure exactly.
Marika's hands around him tightened just a bit, then they relaxed again.
[No, you are not. And yet, you are still a child—one who clearly requires watching over, whether you admit it or not.]
She said, a bit of mischief pouring into that comment, which made Orion's own mouth twitch.
Yeah…he liked these light-hearted situations more than the heavily emotional stuff.
[And I lost all whom I might have called my children, long ago. Failed them—utterly and beyond excuse. You're the only one I have, bound to you by grace. Without you, I'll be another soul drifting alone for eternity…]
She softly spoke, hands caressing his cheek gently. A pause at the end.
[So… if you will permit it, I swear this much: I shall not fail again. Not ever.]
Orion stiffened at the honest confession. For the first time, he genuinely felt that this wasn't the Marika the Eternal from the Lands Between.
He didn't reply immediately. She poured her heart out to him. He couldn't reply with just words, and his heart couldn't figure out which beats were needed to respond to that.
Those beats were foreign to him.
So he just remained there, in her embrace. And through it all, she did not let go.
He didn't try to move away again.
Not when her hold remained firm.
"I…I'm not looking for a mother. I never had one when I needed her, so I long stopped looking for her.
But… sure. I guess having a motherly figure wouldn't be that bad. I can't commit to it though, so you might be disappointed at this frugal son."
xXx
A/N : I believe we needed a bit growth between their realtionship yeah... this chapter try to achieve that a bit. Hope you like it.
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