Races: Online

Her eyes fluttered open weakly, her gaze landing on him. She didn't say a word, but it was already a response. It had taken her too long to recover and he had been afraid that the potion hadn't done a thing. That her situation was more grievous than he thought it was. That there was something graver that happened when he was gone—and he didn't know a thing about dealing with poisons or anything else. He was an idiot, he knew that, but she still did something stupid herself.

She wasn't supposed to do something reckless. He didn't know much about her, but she didn't seem that irresponsible and impulsive when they had first met. She should have left it with him to deal with it instead of taking on more than she could take. All the anger that had risen in his chest when he realized what happened and all the words he practiced in his mind vanished away now that she awoke.

The tension left his body.

He was supposed to chide her, but now all he wanted to do was hug her to his chest. But he couldn't do anything like that, nope, it was too much. They weren't that close at all, and only the circumstances with the Wyvern had landed the two of them here—separated from the rest of the world. 

Still, that was fine—as long as she was alive. 

The guilt that wracked his chest for asking her to go with him during that time, it was still there. It might have been better if she had stayed where she had been. But maybe he could finally get some rest now. He hadn't been able to get a wink in, stuck in this place with her and fearing what might happen next...

"K-Kaden?" 

.

.

.

Somebody's fist pounded on the door—and it pounded as loud as his heart inside his chest. Timothy flinched and bit his tongue, glancing at the door. Knock. Knock. The knocking didn't stop but he refused to say a word. It was better to stay silent and pretend that nobody was inside right? Surely if that was Han then they would go away in an instant, wouldn't they?

No that wasn't right either.

Han would be yelling at him to open the door if it was them, so it must have been someone else. Timothy still didn't say a word and hoped that he stayed quiet like a mouse. He'd pretend that no one was inside the room and wait for them to leave… Did he lock the door?

Nobody in their right mind would open it right?

The doorknob turned and Timothy felt his heart leapt out of his chest, his grasp on the healing potion loosened. It dropped to her lap, he turned to the door to see it creak open. "Timothy are you here? The door's unlocked." She hadn't completely opened it, it was barely a sliver. It had stopped right before it could hit the bag that he dropped on the ground.

...Maybe it was because this was a man's room that she wasn't entering completely, but Timothy was quick to speak up. "I-I am, don't go in—I'm naked." He bit his tongue, "Half naked—but you get the point." There was some clearance away from the blood, she couldn't see a thing from that point. 

"I-I'll be outside then!" Penelope squeaked.

And he'd make sure that it stayed that way. Timothy glanced one last time at Iola, the bottle on her lap and fought back a grimace. He stood up and began to make his way to the door, "Is there anything I can do for you, Penny?" He made sure to call her by nickname, if it actually helped in deterring her from swinging the door open.

"I should be the one asking you that—my brother said something came up. You're unable to study with my brother due to some reason? I came to check up on you and see if you were in any need of help?"

She was too kind like his brother. Timothy really didn't know what to say to that, he scratched the back of his head, hopped over his bag of things and then grabbed for the door to poke his head out. Lady Penelope Primrose's back was turned towards him, she was wearing a lovely purple cloak over her shoulders. It was kind of similar to what Iola had or even what Ellynn had—maybe cloaks were a trend among women, he didn't know. "I'm good, Miss Penny—thank you for coming here, I appreciate it. But it's something that I have to handle alone."

"...Is it a man thing?"

Timothy blinked. "Man thing?" Her words were enough to make him confused that he half-forgot that he was supposed to get her away as soon as possible. He couldn't leave Iola unattended, even when he already made her drink the entirety of the potion that Elliot gave him.

"Yes, it's those activities that are solely for men to do." Penelope cleared her throat. "...I'm not sure how urgent the matter must be though. Is it that painful?"

"I don't think…" Timothy rubbed his face and glanced back at Iola. Her back was still pressed against the wall and she was still unconscious. "I am tending over something, it's an injury so it is painful, and you really don't have to see the room either because it's a mess." He wasn't exactly lying, he was tending over the situation. And the blood was still over his room. "Uh, please thank your brother again for giving me his healing potion—I'll repay it. In kind." How expensive was that healing potion?

"That's not a bother—you don't have to replace it." Penelope nodded albeit she still didn't even do anything as much as look back at him. The way she stood outside of his door made him think of a Soldier. Or maybe a Guard? She was too stiff and serious over there. 

"Alright, thank you… I'm uh, going to close the door again. I'll see you tomorrow, Miss Penny?"

"Goodnight, Timothy!" She didn't even really look back.

Timothy closed the door and waited. He placed his ear by the door and waited to hear the sound of footsteps going away, after a minute or so. He opened the door to check if the presence of the young woman was gone. He then shut the door, wiped the sweat off his forehead and involuntarily sighed in relief. 

He had thought that he was a goner.

If Penelope had seen the blood and the girl… who knew what conclusion would come to her mind? She'd probably scream and he'd get thrown out of the Academy for not only bringing a stranger from outside—he'd get told that he'd kill someone too. Now wouldn't that be a story?

His bag still lay down on the ground—and there was food there! He quickly bent over to pick it up. He was glad that his bag was unsoiled from the puddle of blood somewhat close by but the food didn't mix with the blankets, did it? 

Swoosh.

The sound of a door swung open, "Tim guess what—" 

Timothy froze and glanced behind him. Han stood alone, his hand on the doorknob and he gaped like a fish. This person had no sense of privacy, but more than that, the man stepped into the room and shut it behind him. His gaze went past him and towards Iola, "Is she dead?"

"No." His voice was calmer than he expected it to be.

He could imagine Penelope shrieking if she had seen it, but Han's question threw him off along with their actions. Somebody normal would have bolted right away from the scene or attacked Timothy maybe, but Han shut the door behind him and stared at Iola. Han asked him if she was dead. 

Han eventually blinked and rubbed his eyes, glancing around the room. "What the hell happened here and why the heck do you have Ch—someone like them here?"

He took it better than Timothy expected. And their words didn't exactly escape him either, he had been about to say a name. "Do you know her?" That wouldn't make any sense because he and Han had lived together in the same village all their life.

Unless Iola had met Han before him on the street.

"I've never seen her before… but I thought she looked like someone else." Han rubbed his face. The man locked the door behind him and scratched his cheek. "I must be wrong. But really, is she fine? Is she evil, is that why you knocked her out or something? What exactly happened here?"

Timothy narrowed his eyes at Han before making his way back to Iola. "I met her during the trouble in the city, when we got separated? Or maybe I should say—the moment you left me, I ended up meeting her and she needed help. So I took her in."

"...That doesn't explain the blood vomits and stuff." Han motioned gingerly around his room.

Timothy hadn't considered the time it would take to clean it up, but now that was another notion. He looked at the unconscious woman and grimaced, "She… did that? She stumbled upon a tome and overexerted herself and tried to study it." That was easy enough to guess but for the reason she did that?

She probably knew better than to do something risky like that right?

Iola said she learned magic before, so it must have been from some tutor or teacher and she was aware that studying higher tiers of magic without preparation—and trying to read it all? What exactly had gone through her mind?

"A tome?" Han asked. His tone was light, but the way he said it… he probably also figured it out, didn't he?

"I managed to get one from the underground library. I doubt it was what the Mage had wanted, so I took it for myself."

"And you did plan to keep it to yourself?"

"We weren't ready to study it." Timothy wondered if he should pick Iola up and put her on the bed, but was that too dangerous? He picked up the bottle on her lap and also picked up the tome and placed them on the table. He made sure not to glance too hard at the tome—it was probably going to be like those glyphs on the walls before.

If you try to decipher it bit by bit, one might end up getting too absorbed? He hoped that wasn't the case. He glanced back at Han, the man was unusually silent. "Are you planning on telling somebody about this?" He should be more nervous, but his tone was flat as ever.