Page 52 of Obsidian and Frost

This apartment was a former Guardian Movement safehouse, now bequeathed to us for long-term use.

The architecture was acutely similar to that of the Guardian Compound itself.

It was a seamless blend of classic architectural gravitas and subdued, more homely ambiance.

Ornate Corinthian columns rose from the tiled floor to the ceiling, anchoring the space. Everything was steeped in shadowed green and soft amber tones, the only illumination coming from scattered candles that flickered with a steadiness that served to assist with creating a calm atmosphere that Ketheron required.

It was an open-concept space, as they referred to it on this mortal plane.

The kitchen was made up of custom cabinetry and paneling that possessed avibe,as Ariana had called it when she visited, of ancient temple designs. Triangular magical symbols were carved into cabinet doors and alcoves. The stove was currently clean, although it never stayed that way for very long due to ourcooking experiments,the art of which neither of us had been familiar with, so it had been a messy and curious experience. Across from the dark stone sink was a simple plush couch that faced a wooden coffee table.

I made my way toward the second door to the far right of the space—Ketheron’s bedroom.

The fact that he hadn’t come out to greet me meant he was likely deeply immersed in another study session.

I rapped on the door and a brief murmur of acknowledgement sounded—yes, he was certainly immersed.

I opened the door carefully.

Ensuring my movements were not brash or sudden was imperative with him.

His bedroom fused a child’s sense of wonder with a scholar’s structure. A small wooden bed rested beneath an arch with plush pillows and his beloved stuffed bunny and bear nestled amongst them. A round knitted cushion was currently beneath his chin as he lay on his bed reading from a volume titled,Landmarks and Wonders to Behold.For the last few months, we’d been visiting landmarks across the supernatural world. I’d taken him toHeelor MountainsandWistering Waterfalls, both stunning and picturesque sites. He was now deciding betweenSanctum SandsBeachandKrestaz,the latter being a magnificent volcano, as being our next tourist adventure.

Potted plants were positioned all around the space, interspersed with candles that emanated a strawberry scent. It was Ariana’s scent. Fortunately, when she’d visited here several times, she hadn’t made the connection and had just believed hehad become a fan of strawberries. Although, her dragon love, Vorzyr, had most definitely realized. However, he’d merely had a word with me and nothing more had come of it. It was a comfort to Ketheron to have the room smell like her, so I wouldn’t take that from him. Besides, he didn’t mean anything disturbing by it. He was still learning much.

I smiled as I took in his sketches and notes all over his desk, along with several opened volumes, most about the geography and political setup of the supernatural world, and one being a fiction book from Ariana about the adventures of a warrior princess.

“You’re late tonight,” he spoke, looking up at me and moving back from his book into a sitting position, his glowing black eyes fixed on me.

He was wearing a dark gray hoodie and slim black joggers, which had become his comfort clothing. His gray-tinted skin and the golden fissures that formed jagged patterns across every inch of him, visible on his face and his neck, hands and feet, contrasted against his clothing, a reminder that through the normality of such an outfit, he was actually anything but.

Well, neither was I.

We had that in common. And, honestly, it gave us both a sense of solace.

“Yes. As I was on my way home from my Haven Initiative update meeting with Ryker Morgan, I thought I was needed somewhere, that my assistance was required.”

He arched an eyebrow. “And it wasn’t?”

“No,” I murmured.

“What was it? Was somebody in distress? Do we need to prepare?” He closed his book and pushed off the bed, urgency radiating off him.Oh no.

“All is well.”

He started. “You’re sure?”

“Yes. It was… personal anyway. Nothing to concern yourself with. No overarching threat or anything of the sort.”

He stared at me for several moments.

That was normal. He still didn’t trust in anyone’s word at face-value. Thisstaringwas him searching deeper, trying to see into me, to be absolutely sure.

“You are sad.”

I jolted. “Excuse me?”

“You are sad, Cassius. What has happened? What upsets you?”