The fireplace flickered with errant licks of orange and yellow, the crackling embers the only real sound in the massive room. Obviously an ancient meeting hall of some kind, it had well been converted into a luxurious den of antique sofas and fine wood tables. Ancient bronze shields, scuffed and marked from battles centuries past, along with twin broadswords of a celtic design hung over the thick, deep granite fireplace.
Ozzy leaned against the edge of massive furnace, peering into the dancing flames. The soft glow and warmth reflected in a muted, hazy fashion from his iron-like hide. He had recently noticed that the metal wasn't shiny or polished like steel, but more of a dense, rough grey.
Think I need a wax... he thought, a slight smile creasing his lips.
"Your hair..."
He turned, looking back at Lykopis. She lay comfortable along one of the softer sofas, the fireplace playing havok with the glitter of her eyes.
"...is it....solid?" she continued.
Ozzy cocked an eyebrow, running his hand through his tossle of white.
"...no..." he replied, seemingly just learning this himself. "...it feels more like...like...fiber-optic thread...or something..."
He paused, frowning.
"Want to touch it?" he asked, leaning his head out.
"No, no...that's okay..." she held her hand up. "...simple curiousity..."
"And boredom?"
A slight grin upturned the corner of her mouth. It was the first expression resembling a smile he had seen from her since all of this had happened.
"...somewhat..." she sighed.
"Where is this 'craft' that Paragon is sending?" Ozzy asked, turning fully from the fireplace.
"It's not coming, Ozzy." Lykopis stated very evenly.
He stared at her for a moment.
"What? But, you said--"
"Edmund said that he had talked to Paragon. That William was sending a ship. That we were going back to Munich." she replied, her eyes still staring at the flame. "As if everything was normal. Status quo."
She glanced up at him.
"There is no craft. No ship is coming for us. And he had not talked to William."
"Wait...how do you know all--"
"Did you see him, Ozzy? Did you talk to him?" she interrupted. She shook her head, looking back down at the fire. "He was....mad."
Baxter shrugged.
"Mad about what? About the situation? I mean, we're all somewhere between shocked and---"
"No, Ozzy. No. Not angry. Mad." she drove home emphatically, catching his eye. "His mind was...he...he wasn't acting himself."
Ozzy stared at her for a moment in silence.
"How...how do you know, Lyly?"
"After centuries of human interaction...after the falls of empires and the conqueoring of nations....do you not believe I know madness when I see it? When I hear it?" she explained. "Something in his voice...his urgency to leave us...the...humor in how he took his transformation, and how he tried to repair it....it was transparent...sad."
"...Edmund lost more than his body in our missing year..."
They both went silent again, Ozzy contemplating her words.
"....we...are...alone..." she finally said, the words escaping her lungs in a breath of sorrow and mental fatigue.
They were both silent for a few minutes, her last words hanging in the air, and in their minds.
After a moment, Ozzy walked over. He picked her legs up off the sofa, just enough to be able to slide in under them, gently replacing them back down in his lap.
Lykopis lay there, staring into the flickering light. Ozzy sat at the end, still holding her ankles softly. He, too, stared into the fire, as if they were both going to find the answers they were looking for in the random dance of flame.
"I've been alone before." he finally spoke, his voice rising above the crackling fire. "Trust me....this isn't it...."
"Hmp.." she grunted, lost in the flame.
"You....me....Adem....Vic and Icky..." he continued. "...as long as we stick together...", his voice trailed off, finding no need to continue.
The two sat there listening to the snapping fire for awhile, content in their own silence...
