Yellow light flooded the room as the sun began its descent for the night, wrapping everything in a warm honey color, along with a bright white that only came about at this time of day and lined everything in a blurry fuzz. Splashes of color littered the far wall, projected through miscellaneous bottles, jars, and glass pieces. Aside from a few distant voices on the street outside, it was completely silent.

There was a strange man lying in Eiren's bed-- one that had risen from the ocean that same morning, exhausted and half dead. His chest rose and fell slowly, shakily, with a certain anxious hesitation. It was as if even in his sleep he feared being perceived as vulnerable. Muscles twitched under blemished skin, every sound threatening to wake him.

Eiren was sat in a chair beside the bed, coat hanging behind him and boots tossed aside. He leaned forward, chin resting in one hand as he stared intently at his new guest. The man had been asleep the whole day- only waking up briefly when Eiren brought him inside. He had lashed out then, confused and shaking, not understanding the language spoken to him. Eiren picked at his fingers nervously as he recalled it; the stranger had seemed more beast than man in that moment...

A knock. Both jumped at the sound, luckily not enough for the sleeping man to wake. Eiren sighed and rose from his seat, cautiously making his way to the door. Now was not the time for a curious neighbor to stop by.

As soon as he reached the door, however, a familiar voice spoke and he already felt his anxieties of the day easing.

"There's something--" Damien started, interrupted as the door swung open.

"Thank goodness you're here, I wanted to come to you earlier but I couldn't leave him alone--"

Now it was Damien's turn to cut him off. He held up a hand before stepping inside, dipping his head a bit to fit in the doorway. "Him? Eiren, what did you do?"

Eiren's face changed, concerned. "What do you mean? The man that came out of the ocean, obviously." He chuckled slightly. "I know our lives can be strange but I think this is significant enough to stand out."

Damien glanced to the side, unable to meet Eiren's gaze, but he said nothing. Instead he silently shut the front door behind him. A serious look crossed his face as he turned back to his friend, one Eiren had not seen in a long time. Damien closed his eyes for a moment, a soft glow emanating from the spot in between his brows– the spot that usually hosted a faint birthmark began to shift slightly, until there was a quick flash of bright light. Eiren blinked the spots out of his eyes before glancing back up.

A third eye had appeared on Damien's forehead, white and shimmery like the others. Eiren instinctively reached past his friend and locked the door.

"Ok, now you're really starting to freak me out," he said tentatively. "Did you see something bad?"

Damien shut his eyes tight, the third roaming in circles, searching for something. After a few moments, he came back to reality and sighed. "I didn't see anything. That's the problem."

Eiren paused for a moment before realization dawned on him. It must have been obvious, for Damien grimaced in return.

There was a moment of silence before Damien inhaled deeply and straightened his shoulders. "I need to see who is here, Eiren. You said he's in your room?"

Eiren simply nodded, moving aside to let the other lead the way. No more words were exchanged as they slipped in the doorway one at a time. The silence was a blade in Eiren's chest, twisting in his lung and stealing his breath. He didn't need to face his friend to feel his icy gaze staring down the stranger lying there. Despite the fire roaring in the room behind them, the air couldn't have felt any colder in that moment.

Sweeping in like a rolling fog, Damien was suddenly kneeling at the side of the bed, eyes unblinking, scanning, as if trying to look into the soul of this strange vessel. There was a brief moment where Eiren almost felt the need to step in between them, as if his old friend would suddenly turn into a feral beast and tear into the poor man. He refrained for now, however, holding faith that Damien would approach the situation with a level head.

The enigma lying under the covers was unmoving aside from the occasional slow, shaky breath. Watching him there, so frail and unsteady, it was hard to imagine he could have an ounce of trickery in him. What activities could he be up to that needed to be shielded from The Prophetic Eye? What could anyone be doing that was bad enough to take those kinds of measures? Eiren could only imagine; for a moment, his thoughts drifted back to his recent nightmares...

He shook his head slightly. No. Innocent until proven guilty. They would at least give him a chance to defend himself.

"Please don't wake him up," he finally muttered. "It took a lot to put him to sleep. I don't imagine he'll react well to being jolted awake..."

Damien didn't reply, but gave a barely visible nod. A sigh escaped him as he rose back to his feet, rubbing his hands together nervously. It was surreal to see him acting like this. It was almost even more strange that he was so relatively calm, considering the situation. Eiren almost expected him to go into a full blown panic, desperately searching for an answer.

Both of them turned to glance at the stranger once again. They had a silent agreement, as they usually do, that they would wait and try not to assume the worst.

Neither left the other's side for hours. What else was there to do? Eiren wasn't sure how long they sat there– long enough for the sky to turn dark. Long enough to practically memorize the faded blue markings that ran along the man's skin. Some were like ribbons, sprouting from his back and wrapping to the front of his torso. Some seemed completely random, like a circle on his elbow, or an eye symbol on one hand. Though it was hard to tell in the position he was lying, some unreadable sigils appeared to be spread out across his back. They were all beautifully made, but had a dark undertone to them that couldn't be placed, as if they were meant as identifiers rather than a form of self expression.

There were a few moments where they thought he would wake up, rushing to their feet as he rolled over or made a sound. Every time, however, his muscles would relax once again and he would sink into the bed with a heavy sigh. It was like he was in hibernation, trying to preserve himself through the harsh conditions he'd been put through. Even while they needed answers, a part of Eiren still felt guilty at the thought of eventually having to pull him away from his dreams.

He thought back to earlier that day. The pain that shot through his body as he heard that voice... If this man was feeling even a fraction of that, he couldn't blame him if he slept for a month straight. Just a second of it was enough to practically drive Eiren to his knees, like his whole being was on fire.

Glancing down, he could see Damien twisting a piece of fur between his rough fingers, half buried in the rug they sat on. Though his expression remained stoic, it was easy to tell he was growing impatient. His foot would tap, or his eyebrow twitched, or he would rub his hands together. It was like the human version of raised haunches and slitted pupils– he could never say it, but he was fearful for the first time in centuries.

Without a word, Eiren gently placed his hand over his friend's, steadying his anxious fidgeting. Damien closed his eyes for a moment, brows furrowing, before letting out a deep exhale. It sounded like he had been holding his breath all night and only just remembered to let it out.

Eiren opened his mouth to speak, then paused, mouth open, contemplating what could be said to make any of this less daunting. Not much, he thought. His gaze fell back to the floor between them, covered in layered furs and blankets, glowing slightly in the dim moonlight that poured in the window. He stopped on one, a beautifully woven piece made with dyed alpaca fibres. It was draped over the back of a chair, carefully spread out so as to not get it dirtied or frayed.

Softly smiling to himself, he nudged Damien with his shoulder, nodding in the direction of the blanket. "You remember when we got that one?" he asked in a hushed voice.

Damein was pulled back into reality with a jolt, appearing almost dazed as he looked in the direction Eiren pointed. Once he collected himself, he gave the other a look, as if to say, Really? How could you forget? Even so, he glanced back at it with a glimmer of fondness in his eyes.

When he was quiet for a moment, Eiren decided to start. "That shepard in the–

"In the mountain pass," Damien finished with a nod. "Three of her alpacas had run off after getting spooked by some falling rocks." His hand eased a bit under Eiren's. "She made that for us as a gift when we brought them back."

Eiren chuckled a bit thinking about it. "Maybe it wasn't the most convincing human look to run up into the snowy mountains and come back with one on each shoulder. She almost tried to marry you right there, take you home to tend to her farm. I thought I might never see you again," he joked.

Damien huffed, probably the closest thing he would give to a laugh. Eiren took it as a success.

There was a long pause before Eiren spoke again. "I won't let this take that away from us. I promise." While it was meant to comfort his friend, he was partially reassuring himself as well.

Damien simply nodded. Although they exchanged no more words, Eiren couldn't help but feel there was more Damien wanted to say. He wouldn't push it for now.

The atmosphere quickly fell back into cold silence after that. At some point, Eiren rose to his feet and left to make chamomile tea. The hearth was barely aflame anymore, a few hot embers glowing at the base. He stopped to feed it some more fuel and breathe it back to life, watching the small flames lap at the wood like starving beasts to a fresh kill. The fire was alluring, in a way, like a haven away from the uncertainty awaiting him just a room over.

Shaking it off, he hung the pot of water over the fire and straightened up, brushing off his hands before turning to collect a handful of loose leaves and tossing them in. Concerned about leaving Damien and the stranger alone for too long, he decided he would go back while he waited.

He walked through the door to find his bed on fire.