As strange as it was, that little smile on his face seemed more of a friend to Abana. It was like one that had long been lost to the wear and tear of time. Her face felt warmer than normal and she hurriedly broke from the trance the sight of Haq's strange expression had put her in to send an accusatory question his way.
"Why would you miss on purpose?"
Haq glanced back at her with a wide grin. Giving no clear response, he began humming, leading the way with his hands stretched back behind his head once again.
"I knew it," Abana muttered. "There's something wrong with him."
But even so, her eyes kept finding him in the landscape ahead, focusing on his back, the strength hidden in his shoulders, and the smallest peeks at his expression as he turned his head to gaze about.
A river was the last obstacle between them and the entrance to the Canyon. With no reservation, Haq declared it a shortcut and bounded into the water.
Abana sighed to herself, readjusting the axe on her shoulder. Whatever feeling had arisen in her earlier was a distant and fleeting memory. It was nothing to think hard about. Not of what may have been attraction, nor that of bafflement at the utter nonsense of missing on purpose.
The water was cool but not frigid, easy enough to wade through as the currents were as gentle as a small breeze. As the height of the water caressed their knees without rising farther.
"How do you to know each other?" Nadia asked as they climbed the bank on the opposite side, squeezing free some of the water that had soaked into her pants.
Haq and Abana stopped and waited for her, having no need to do the same. Abana had deftly gathered the hem of her deep blue skirt and lifted it a few inches so it could pass over the water untouched. As she let it fall again, the fabric neatly landed just past her knees.
"We were born around the same time." Abana took the lead in speaking, despite being about twenty years younger than Haq. She pulled off one of her flat shoes, ones that resembled that of a dancer, and tipped it over. A small bit of water rushed out, landing in the grass lightly. As she did the same with her other foot, Haq had walked up to a worn walking trail, waiting for them.
"We ran into each other once."
"How long ago was that?"
Abana and Haq both paused, neither looking directly at one another, but seeming to have the same flurry of thought, of a memory they had long brushed aside. She met Nadia's eye and gave a hopeless attempt at a reassuring smile.
"It was the last time the Life and Death fought. That was when we met."
"Ah."
It was an involuntary response, one that widened the eyes with the ejected sound. Part of Nadia wanted to ask, to delve deeper, to know the details. And yet, something in her froze, begged not to pursue the matter until later. Shrugging the feeling aside, she asked something else, something easier.
"Are you the only ones your age?"
This time, as the three of them gathered on the trail together, Haq and Abana exchanged a serious look, sparking a new interest within Nadia's mind.
"We're the oldest of the younger group," Abana replied hesitantly.
Haq gave a short laugh and added his own words on the matter.
"We're certainly not the most mature."
Tilting her head as she followed them, walking once again, Nadia pondered those words.
How many more were there? Where were they now? In what way were they more mature?
A short while earlier...
As Haq and Abana were exchanging words in front of the tavern, the upper balcony on the shaded side of the tavern was occupied. Though it wasn't as visible from the ground at the front of the building, the seats there had enough of an angle to see those below with ease.
Two sat relaxed at one of the two tables, the other remaining unoccupied during their stay. Several empty glasses littered the table in front of a woman with white hair. Aside from the first inch of each strand of her hair being black, all but the roots were the color of that which passed her shoulders by with a few extra inches. With bangs and perfectly straight tresses, she set down yet another empty glass, having downed the rest of the liquid inside.
"They aren't wrong," she admitted, licking her lips to secure any residue left behind after her drink. "This is really good."
She turned to the attendant for their table with a bright smile, a stark contrast to not only her companion, but the person standing with them. Trying his best to hide his alarmed wariness, eying the empty glasses, all of which were full just an hour prior, he returned her smile with a tight one of his own. The woman pretended not to notice the clear words written in his eyes. She could practically hear him thinking that she was insane.
It was no news to her. Everyone tended to think as such whenever she drank them under the table with ease. Despite having so much alcohol in her system, she felt none of the effects it should have given. Be it a curse or luck, she wasn't quite sure, even after 200 years.
Her companion made a noncommittal noise in response, more to tell her she was listening than to give a reply. He lifted the glass in front of himself, his side of the table empty, and looked over a paper in his hand with determined focus.
"How much do I owe you?" she asked politely to the attendant.
Together, they looked over at the pile of empty quart glasses.
"That's number seven, Miss. Each is five coins." he replied with a bow of his head.
"Ah. Thanks." Plopping a hefty pouch into his hands, enough to pay for the drinks twice over, she gave him a grin. "The extra is because I appreciate you." She gave the attendant a wink to emphasize her words. It was, as well, a bribe to keep him quiet of anything overheard at the table while the two of them were sitting and conversing. The attendant nodded in understanding of her words and she patted his shoulder gratefully before turning away. "Come on," she said, grabbing her companion's wrist gently and pulling him from his seat.
He deftly finished the glass and set it down carefully, the white band on his right hand's index finger leaving a tiny clink of a sound behind as he nodded respectfully to the attendant. The two of them meandered down the stairs and down into the lively tavern below. The air was filled with conversation of those who had been outside, as many hadn't ever seen those two before. Abana herself, with her unique coloring always seemed to leave more whispers in her wake. It was something unseen across the planet. She was, in fact, the only being, human or not, that was blue. Most of the murmurs and comments weren't hostile, instead they were filled with fascination and curiosity.
The man handed over a few rare coins to the owner of the tavern on their way to the door, the end of his long coat billowing slightly behind him as he moved quickly through the masses.
"Come again!"
The woman turned, giving a big smile and wave as they passed over the threshold while he just nodded once. Door closing behind them, shutting out most of the noise inside, they stood silently at the top of the steps for a short moment. Gracefully, putting his hands in his pockets, he started down the wooden planks, black boots touching down on the dirt lightly and with little sound.
She grabbed the railing and rushed down, stopping ahead of him. Turning to face him, she asked the biggest question at the moment.
"What do you suppose we do, Lyruk?"
Unbothered by his silence, she looked toward the way Haq and Abana had left with the strange girl. Biting her lip, she folded her arms across her midsection, an air of uncertainty and concern permeating the space around her. Lyruk sighed and glanced that way as well.
"You want to join."
At his bland statement, her head whirled around to meet his calm gaze. Excitement widened her eyes. Regardless of danger, she was more than a little keen to join the group.
"Should we?"
Lyruk gazed off into the distance at the figures disappearing over the horizon, on the backside of a large hill. His long hair, tied up behind his head, brushed his coat collar in a light breeze. The red and black hair that framed his face, bangs too short to tie, did little to stop him from seeing that which he wanted.
With a sigh, he gently brushed his thumb over the white band on his finger, hidden in the shadows of his coat's pocket. The continuous design around the white material resembled that of an infinity symbol, that, or two of them entwined together in a collection of three connected oval-shaped loops. At his touch, he swirled it around his finger a few times, finding peace in the movement.
"They'll head to the Canyon," he said eventually. "Only one of them is properly armed."
Elavale grinned at his words. If he had the mind to say that, it meant it was also their destination.
"Ly, you were planning on following them regardless, right?"
From a few feet away, before a response could be given, a small fluttering caught their attention. A butterfly, one not tangible but created of magic alone, floated gracefully over to Lyruk. He touched it once, letting it dissipate.
The corner of his mouth lifted.
"Elavale."
"Yes?" She responded quickly, also understanding what the symbol meant. Though she wasn't bouncing up and down visibly, the way she nibbled on her lip in anticipation, eyes alight, made her eagerness obvious.
"It appears we've been invited to join."
Setting off in the same direction the other three had left, they too began the journey. Elavale skipped a few paces ahead and walked, hands behind her back, gaze uplifted to the sky and scenery. With a smile, she turned to look back at Lyruk. He remained as he was, steps even and with hands in pockets, his long coat displaced in the movement, exposing a black shirt and pants, a silver belt bisecting them. His purple eyes met her blue ones inquisitively.
"That Nadia girl seems nice," Elavale admitted.
Undeterred by his quiet, she turned to face forward again, continuing her thoughts to answer his unspoken question.
"But she's got her hands full already. I mean, of everyone, those two are constantly fighting each other."
"There's always a reason."
"Hm?"
Elavale, surprised by his interjection, nodded, coming to her own conclusions.
"Yeah. Opposition of sides. Maybe height is involved since they're both short." She tossed around several ideas and reasons behind their mutual combativeness. "Competition. Age similarities. Maybe one of them said something they shouldn't have."
Lyruk gave another few noncommittal hums in response to her continued list of endless reasons.
"You'd think since they're older than us, they'd calm down a bit," she said, ending her rambling on the matter.
"It's certainly fascinating," Lyruk responded quietly. Certainly so, as of all the reasons she listed, he expected the real ones to be nothing of the sort. Though he was nearly twenty years Abana's junior and forty to Haqin, there was something he'd long since noticed about their interactions. More specifically, it wasn't both of them, but rather, just one of them. Time had made it more difficult to hide from the sharpest observant eyes.
"Right? But, somehow, no matter how much they bicker and fight one another, they never seem determined to be rid of the other."
Perhaps, they never intended to harm one another, despite the fighting.
Lyruk's mind drifted briefly over to a woman that stood at Death's side and a man who stood with Life. Though they hadn't named themselves star-crossed lovers, it was clear that one had erected a fortress of a wall between them, an uncrossable boundary, one that the other wished didn't exist.
Galbnad and Inaleon.
The looks in their eyes, the vulnerable emotion in its barest form, weren't dissimilar to Haqin's, that is, when he looked at her.
Only, of course, when he thought nobody would notice, and never more than a fleeting glance.
Perhaps, Lyruk thought to himself, there were other reasons at play, ones that kept them from trying to kill each other.
Even if they wouldn't acknowledge them themselves.