Four walls. Solid flooring. A sturdy roof that didn't so much as creak beneath the heavy winds that could sweep through the region. Hell, he'd even managed to set up something of a window. It was by no means what would be considered modern in plenty of other words he'd been to, no more than glorified slab of wood that needed another piece to keep it propped open, but it was something.
Most importantly-
Onyx spread out his arms and waited, a full minute passing by.
-there wasn't a single bug to bite at him.
The place might be small, dark, and void of furniture aside from the gatherings of fur place in one of the room's corners, but it was the little things that mattered. Used to roughing it across foreign lands he might be, but that didn't mean he'd ever come around to the worse parts about doing such a thing. He honestly almost forgotten what it was like to deal with such things, mana able to ward off such pest easily enough.
Once he created himself a proper bed, maybe a table and chair, plus a few other things, the place would really be something. And it just so happened he had all the time in the day to do just that.
But first he had to go get the person that'd put so much time for home décor in his hands.
As he headed over to the simple door, pushing it open, a familiar mist gathered on the other side, a certain spectral steed taking shape.
"Finally came around, didn't you?" Onyx asked. "I told you this place would turn out nice." The horse neighed, stepping forward. "Hold on there." Onyx placed a hand on the horse's forehead, brow raised. "You don't think I forgot about all that doubt you had, did you? Naysayers aren't welcomed in this place."
A snort left the horse and it tried to step forward. Onyx kept his hand on its head.
A stalemate.
The horse rubbed one of its front legs into the ground. Onyx narrowed his eyes and dug his feet into the ground. That proved to be the right move on his part, a grunt forced out of him as the horse began to move forward with renewed force. He managed to hold the spectral steed at bay for but a moment, even throwing his other hand into the mix and grabbing hold of one of the horse's horns.
Bit by bit he was pushed back, until, with a shack of its head, the horse sent him stumbling to the side before settling beside the bed of furs in the corner.
"Just act like you own the place, why don't you?" Onyx muttered with a shake of his head and slight chuckle. Going up against a strength like that would make for some good exercise for this body but he got the feeling his self-appointed roommate wouldn't be so quick to join in on his morning training.
Was that prideful laziness common amongst his kind or something unique to him?
Onyx set that aside for the moment, stepping outside.
He'd cut down a number of trees in his recent endeavors, widening the clearing around the ruins sheltering that dragon corpse. A campfire was set up just beyond the ruins and his cabin both, the woman he'd spent the past few days caring for unconscious and tucked in a bedroll made from furs.
He headed over, kneeling at her side.
She'd been in and out of it for a while now, her recovery from blood loss and sickness a gradual one. She was sound asleep now, her breaths stronger than they'd been the nights before and a healthy coloring to her face.
All thanks to the surprise assistance of his other spectral stalker. He wouldn't go as far as to say he owed her anything, but that timely intervention had turned his futile whim into something feasible.
Onyx slipped his hands beneath her, woman and bed roll lifted, then headed back into the cabin, placing her into the corner near the close-eyed steed.
This cheeky bastard really is acting like he's the one that built this. Onyx thought with a shake of his head. He didn't bother waking the horse though. Much like the one-eyed woman he'd lent aid in rescuing the blindfolded blonde, actually allowing them to ride upon his saddle to back her much sooner.
Whatever their reasons, it wasn't too much to call them friends at this point. Odd friends he knew almost nothing about, one of whom had taken it upon himself to enjoy the fruits of his labor while the other was barely more than a distant stalker, no reappearance made since that moment in the forest.
Eh, I've had weirder relationships. Onyx thought while standing back up.
It couldn't hurt to treat them a bit more like friends, could it?
XOXO
"L-Lord Onyx?"
He hummed as he raised a wooden spoon, carved in his free time, from the metal pot of soup he was steering, tasting the reddish liquid within it. He nodded to himself. It didn't compare to any of the recipes he knew but he was learning to work with the herbs he gathered and the spices bartered from Kalé. With a bit more practice they'd be dining on more than bland food that was good for nothing other than filling their stomachs.
"Are you a seamster like my mother was?" Boc asked. "You-you are a great warrior, I know that but-" He quickly added before trailing off, far too unsure of himself.
Onyx glanced up from the pot.
Departing from their former routine, they'd started doing the cooking out here on the island's surface just beyond the church. Boc still hadn't adjusted to being out in the open space, eyes occasionally darting around the darkness around them. The glow of that oversized tree and moon might've comforted others but that didn't go for someone who'd spent their entire life in caves, surrounded by those who preyed on him for a lack of physical strength.
"I wouldn't go that far." Onyx said, gaze returned to the soup. He could see why Boc might've thought that, but tailoring was just one of many things he dabbled in to some degree. He'd lived so many lives that there were many hats he had tried on once or twice. "I travel around a lot. I picked up how to repair my owns clothes if needed."
Satisfied with the coloring and taste of the bubbling liquid, he picked a carved bowl from the cloth beside him and filled it, holding it out for Boc.
"Thank you." Boc said with a bow of the head as he took the offered bowl, though he didn't eat immediately, looking between the food and him. "Might…might I ask a favor, Lord Onyx?"
"Hmmm?" Onyx raised a brow. This was a first.
"Can you leave any tailoring you need done, to me? I don't mean to-"
"If that's what you want, Boc." Onyx said holding back a chuckle. He might be a novice, but Boc was dedicated to following in his mother's footsteps. Few would consider asking for work to be dumped onto them a favor but then again, with how earnestly he worked, none of it probably registered as such.
The relieved smile on his face as he finally dug into the meal only made that seem all the more true.
Onyx filled another bowl and after swirling the liquid in it for a moment, came to decision. "Hey, Cyclops" He called out.
He waited for a moment, Boc's confused look ignored. Even if such a creature didn't exist in this world she had to know he was talking to her.
"Hey, buddy. " Onyx said, looking to the spectral steed who sat behind him, chopping down on a pile of vegetables and fruits paced beside him. "Your friend can hear me, right?"
The horse looked at him…or rather past him, neighing as it shook his head.
A chocked squeak left Boc, his bowl dropped as he scurried away from the fire. "L-Lord Onyx! L-Look!" He shakily warned.
Appearing from the same misty blue smoke just as the horse did, the woman that'd been acting as his other stalker, stepped into existence at his side. Short and dark pinkish-red hair. One eye tinged with gold while the left remained closed, a dark mark in the shape of a talon over the lid. A stone cold expression that betrayed nothing.
The state of her existence and the feel of her soul aside, even appearance wise he could tell she was no ordinary person. The black cloak draped over an equally dark plain dress and botts, both worn and dirtied, gave away as little as her face, doing away with any real guesses.
"Want some?" He asked, bowl held up to her.
"I do not possess a true body of flesh as you do. I have no need of such things."
"…that didn't really answer my question." He pushed the bowl closer to her. "Do you want any or not? There's more than enough for another."
She stared. Then tilted her head slightly. There was no change to her expression as her one eyed gaze shifted from him to the bowl.
Why did a simple yes or no question call for so much thinking? At this rate his arm was going to get tired before she made a decision. The stress his body was constantly under due to all his training was easy to ignore with adrenaline pumping through his veins but not in an idle situation like this.
Finally, she kneeled down shifting into a sit on the dirt beside him as her hands emerged from beneath her cloak. Burns marred the pale skin. Assuming she wasn't always a spirit, were such injuries the cause of her death?
"Here you go, Boc." Onyx said, filling another bowl and holding it out for him. Boc was slow to approach but after a nod from him, took the refill, settling back down on the other side of the fire, a constant eye kept on their new dinner mate.
Onyx filled his own bowl, settling down to drink from it. He'd might not have been able to get the tastefulness he wanted but there was one good thing every bowl of soup shared, no matter how basic. That filling warmth that'd leave him satisfied in no time.
Boc ate even slower than usual while his spectral stalker took only a single sip, no attempt made to blow the steaming bowl before staring down at it.
"You don't like it?"
"Its...fine." She said yet her stare into the liquid didn't stop.
"If you think that's good just give me a bit more time. I'll be making stuff far better than that." He assured her. Like Boc, he doubted someone as unique as her made for a good baseline to figure out the standards of this world but if something as basic as this was considered good, once he actually got some variety going and made proper use of his experience they wouldn't be able to comprehend the dishes he was capable of producing.
She looked to him once more. "What is a cyclops?"
Oh, right. That.
"A monster." He said. "They're larger than most creatures and tend to be on the slower side mental wise but if you can make friends with one, they're far more loyal than most."
The spectral steed snorted while the woman stared.
"They also only have one eye." That addition satisfied her, the woman returning to her meal. Fortunately, she didn't take the comparison seriously.
Though, honestly speaking, he wasn't sure if that was a good or bad thing. She wasn't trying to keep her emotions in check. He'd spent enough lifetimes around people that few could truly hide their nature from him, with or without his ability to get a look at their souls. Aside from curiosity, that of which was so weak it might be more proper to call it the echo of the emotion, she exuded almost nothing.
She sat right beside him, but it felt as though nothing was there. This apathetic state was the norm for her.
No normal life molded a person in such a way.
What an interesting woman.