Cyan P.O.V.

"Why are we hiding in the library?" Draven asks after breakfast. Even his judging eyes are attractive. How annoying.

"Because we need to talk about those hickey's on Seren's neck," I whisper, double checking the library doors to ensure we weren't followed. "You saw them too, didn't you?"

"I didn't need to. His Grace never returned to his room last night and he was with Seren this morning."

"What... why didn't you tell me?"

Draven twists his nose. "Do you want me to update you on His Grace's sex life?"

"No, just--this is really fast for them, don't you think? I mean, Seren's from the Holy Church." I start pacing past the shelves, nerves growing exponentially. "What if His Grace does have feelings for him, real ones?"

"That's none of our business," Draven says, making me huff.

"How can you say that? Lore has always protected us and cared for us. We need to do the same for him," I argue, pointing accusingly at the heartless bastard.

"He doesn't need our protection. Why are you getting worked up about this? Seren may be from the church, but you admitted he has been questioning himself lately."

"Yeah, but-but what if he was only making us believe that?" I ask, feeling those nerves overtake me. Sure, he looked jealous on the airship, but that didn't mean anything would really happen, especially not so soon! "What if this has always been the plan? Send some paladin to trick His Grace, to hurt him in the worst of ways, and learn every little secret we have," I suggest, wringing my hands together.

"You're sounding extremely paranoid," Draven says, stepping over as if to grab my wrist, but he stops. "His Grace is capable of handling himself. I do not say that because I don't care, but because I truly believe it. If Seren worries you so much, go speak to him again before you do anything rash."

"I wasn't planning anything rash."

He smirks. "Not yet."

I bite my lip to stave off a grin. "It isn't rash if I put some thought into it."

"Even your plans aren't that thought out."

I scoff at his playful smirk. At least he made it obvious that he was joking.

"Why are you getting worked up about this now?" He asks. "We've both suspected something has been going since the airship, at least."

"I don't know," I answer, shrugging. "Before, it felt like Seren might have had some interest and maybe His Grace was messing with his head. Now with what happened, His Grace staying with him, even those matching suits, it feels like things are mutual and that's weird. It's worrisome. The church is... they know how to toy with people. They know how to break them and make them do terrible things. I've seen it with my own eyes. I want His Grace to find happiness, I really do, but I... this is..."

"I understand," Draven says, slowly nodding. That makes me feel a bit better.

"Sorry, I got worked up over nothing," I grumble. This time, Draven risks brushing his hand against my shoulder. The lightest touch that makes me shiver. I bite the inside of my cheek when he releases me, likely thinking my shiver was a bad sign.

"It's fine. The church is a sore spot for you. I stand by what I said, speak with Seren and see what he has to say. You have a knack for sniffing out bullshit," he says, then leaves to attend to his usual duties, which involves being an annoying perfectionist. He needs to ask for a vacation. Maybe we could go to the beach--not that I would go with him on vacation. That's ridiculous, and why would a vampire want to go to the beach? The sun can be super irritating. I'm a total dud head sometimes.

I wait in the library for Lore to leave for the mine. This gives me time to think over what I wish to say to Seren, or rather ask. After hearing Lore's departure, I wait a few more moments to search the estate for Seren. I find him in one of the lounge areas where a small desk rests by the window. He sits there, hunched over the desk. Stepping closer to peer around him, I barely make out a few words that send me barrelling across the room.

"Cyan!" Seren shouts too late. I've grabbed the paper, so fixated on those words that I can't think of anything else.

There, within some text that blurs in my eyes because it pales in comparison, are a few unbelievable words; I am renouncing my title as paladin.

"What is this?" I ask, hand shaking as I hold up the letter.

Seren shakes too. He rips the paper from my grasp to stash under his arm like I haven't already seen it. Mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water, Seren doesn't speak save for a few half sputtered words that make no sense, so I speak instead, "Is it true? You're going to leave the church?"

I can't believe it. The mere thought feels as crazy as the Holy Mother's suddenly appearing before me in ethereal light to say I've been wrong all this time. Because the church digs and digs into a person the longer they're there. Had I been like Seren, had I stayed as long as he had, I don't think I could have left. I can't imagine anyone leaving and now, as he stares at me with a trembling gaze, I think the craziest thing I've ever imagined has actually become real.

"Are you really leaving?" I repeat.

"Yeah," he whispers, sounding as utterly shocked as I am to hear it.

I actually feel weak. I stumble over to the nearby couch where I drop onto the cushions with a soft thud. Seren joins me, clutching the incomplete letter. We sit in silence for a long moment before Seren says, "I don't know what to say."

"What?" I ask, tearing my gaze from the window I've now memorized.

Seren must have memorized his letter because he has yet to take his eyes off it. Even now, his gaze remains glued to the paper as he speaks, "I don't know what to write. Part of me wants to say horrible things, to curse them for everything they've ever done, but another merely wants this to be over with. Send a polite and professional letter renouncing my title so, if the day comes that I may be able to help others in the church, I could potentially still approach them. Does that make sense?"

He finally looks at me. The color has drained from his face. His eyes search mine for answers.

"Makes total sense to me. They're bastards who did terrible things. I've always wanted to tear them apart, so I get the desire to scream at them. I guess you just have to choose which one you think will be best in the long run?" I suggest, unsure of what else to say. I didn't have to renounce my title. I left the church at a young age and it was easy to adapt to the Seymour estate. Seren is leaving a huge part of his life behind. I don't think there is a right answer to what he should do.

"Will you help me write it?" he asks, puzzling me.

"Why me?"

"Because you're the only one who truly understands. Lore, he..." Seren bites back a smile that says so much. "He has a way with words, but he has never been part of the church. He has heard the horror stories, but he hasn't lived them. Not like you and I have." He suddenly rubs the back of his neck, frowning. "I understand if you don't want to. This mustn't bring up good memories."

"I wouldn't say it's bringing up bad ones either. I'm more shocked that you're actually leaving. It doesn't feel real."

He nods. "Yeah."

"I'll look over the letter, but if you're hoping that I can correct your grammar or spelling, I won't be any help there. It's better to ask Draven for that. He is a perfectionist after all."

Seren snorts. "The mad scientist understands complex chemistry but not grammar?"

"We've all gotta be good and bad at something."

He chuckles, heaving a long and unsteady breath. For a while longer, he sits by me. Then he takes slow steps back to the desk where he sits, shoulders tense and pen hovering above the page. I join him, leaning against the desk to read over what he says. That seems to encourage him to continue, occasionally glancing towards me with a silent question; is this alright?

I don't know either though. Seems he is going for the softer route, claiming that he has been struggling with his faith and does not find it appropriate to remain at the church. He hesitates to write that he appreciates what the church did for him. I see it now, the rage in his eyes that filled mine for a very long time. But he pushes through it, managing to finish the letter in a few more strokes.

"Done," he says, pushing the letter away as if that will make it disappear. Resting his elbows on the desk, Seren hides his face in his hands, taking more slow breaths that do little to ease the tension in his shoulders.

I'm not good at this comforting shit, but I try anyway. Seren gives me a lopsided smile when I awkwardly pat his back.

"No need to force yourself." He chuckles. "The fact that you're here is comforting enough."

"Good." I stop patting his back. It was weird as shit. "So, uh, are you going to hand that to them in person or...?"

He shakes his head. "I don't want to go back there. I'll... I'll send it from Lore's estate in the capital. They'll probably receive it on the day we return to Silra."

"You don't want to talk to Olere?"

Seren stares out the window, a sudden clearness to his eyes. He smiles softly. "No, we spoke before coming to Vexsis. He'll understand." Then he turns his gaze to me. "And, um, you could talk to me if you want."

"Huh?"

"You can talk to me," he repeats. "About what you went through at the church, how you got there, whatever really."

"What brought this up?" I ask, suddenly feeling exposed. I glance about the room expecting someone to burst out of the walls to announce that we're being watched. By who? No clue, but it makes me shuffle my weight from one foot to the other.

"The fact that we're both mortals twisted by the church now living among those we were told are the enemy, it makes us have more in common. I thought since I felt better writing this letter with you around, you might feel alright speaking to me about..." He furrows his brows. "Something."

"Something," I repeat. "I may be shit with grammar, but you've got a horrendous vocabulary."

Seren shrugs. Now that the ink has dried, he grabs an envelope from the desk to put the letter in. Once it's sealed, the letter seems more real, like he can't turn back. This moment reminds me of my own, the few throughout my life where I realized everything would change. Those changes were never good until I saw Lore in Trinia Cathedral. That's when the path my life had been descending on faster and faster finally started to move up towards the light. Strange how Seren seems to have had a similar path, albeit much longer, and maybe that is what makes me realize that I wouldn't mind talking.

Lore's the only one who knows my full story. I cried about it some nights, tucked under the covers as he sat on the edge of my bed listening. Just listening. He never pried. I said what I needed to say and he wouldn't leave unless I wanted him to. Sometimes we'd sneak into the kitchens to snack on cookies and sometimes they'd already be in my room so we were prepared for the eventual tears. I never worked up the courage to tell anyone else. I don't know why. And I don't know why it's changing now, but it feels like Seren has been chipping away so gently at my walls that I didn't realize he punctured them until it's too late.

"My parents weren't good people," I mumble, staring at the letter as if it's now meant to become my own. "My mother was selfish, greedy, and never wanted children, so she resented me. My dad was just a patron, some drunk who was barely around. Our house, if you want to call it that, was filthy."

The memories of that dingy plate, mold in the corners of the yellow stained walls and sheets pinned up over broken windows, makes my skin crawl. I crave to itch and itch, barely preventing myself from doing so by clutching the edge of the desk.

"They never cared about me, but I was a kid. I still expected my parents to protect me. They didn't. Sometimes... sometimes my mom brought her patrons home, who showed a little too much attention to me." I hear Seren's chair shift, though I dare not look at him. If I do, I might stop. Although the past is scary to talk about, it's somehow so much better to tell someone. "Nothing went so far as to--they never--I always got away in time, but one night I fought back pretty hard and hurt a very important patron. Mom didn't like that. I guess she thought it was better to sell me than keep me."

My teeth grind making my jaw ache painfully, but nothing compares to the pain of that day. The one where I watched a dhampir hand her a wad of cash. She counted the money with a smile on her face and I learned that my life had a price. Not even a high price, just a bit of cash to tide her over for a month or so. She didn't even hesitate.

"I knew the guy, a dhampir she worked with so I... I knew where I was going and what I would be expected to do. I was barely ten fucking years old when I went into that brothel and saw what was happening to kids like me. They bathed me, put me in more appropriate attire, told me what to do, and tossed me into a room with some old fucking vamp. I panicked. He kept grabbing me. I knew what he was going to do and I--"

Seren grasps the end of my sleeves to ease my hands away from my neck. I see the blood on my fingers, realizing I had started tearing the skin at my neck, then catch Seren's angered stare. It does feel good to see that, like he's angry for me, that I have every right to be angry, but...

"That's the first time I used magic," I whisper, hands shaking from the brilliant orange and red I see with every blink of my eyes. "Fire. There was so much fire. I saw... the other kids, I swear I saw them go up in flames. The flames I made. They looked relieved. I somehow felt relieved too. Other buildings caught fire and I bolted. I never found out how many people died that night."

"You didn't mean to do that," Seren whispers, continuing to hold the sleeves of my shirt to prevent me from scratching. I still flick my nails though, desperate to keep my hands busy, to focus on something other than those hands grabbing me, pulling at my hair, and people whispering terrible things in my ear.

"You were terrified. Everyone would be. You protected yourself in the only way you could. Is that how the church found you?" he asks.

"Yeah. Surveyors came to town and convinced me to go with them. I was starving, living on the streets, and desperate for a home, so I went. I believed their bullshit at first because it... it was the first place I'd ever been where I felt cared for. I had a nice room, a clean home, friends, good food, books, toys, whatever I wanted and I knew no one would s-sell me."

"You said it yourself, that's what they prey on," he says.

"They've always been damn good at it."

"Yeah." Seren releases my sleeves, determining that I'm not a detriment to myself or anything around us. Although that may change any moment. I've always been a bit explosive.

"Don't talk to anyone about this," I say, shuffling my feet. "Especially not Draven."

"Draven doesn't know?"

"Absolutely not."

"May I ask why?"

"By asking that, you've made asking if you can irrelevant," I reply, glaring at Seren's awkward smile. "But no, you may not ask because it doesn't matter why."

He makes a face that says he disagrees before he actually says it, "I think it matters a lot and it may be a big reason why you two keep dancing around the issue."

"What issue?"

"The liking each other issue."

I choke on my own saliva, then slap my chest. "Maybe you shouldn't send that letter because it's clear you aren't in your right mind."

Seren sighs. "I have never been more clear headed than now, so if I may give a small piece of advice; we need to stop letting our past dictate our future. If we don't, we'll never actually move forward."

Offering a soft smile, Seren stands up and leaves the room though he hesitates in the doorway. Looking back at me, he says, "Thanks for telling me and, if you ever want to talk about anything else, I'm here."

I give him a dismissive wave until he disappears. Falling back onto the couch, I knock the heel of my foot against the floor to a random rhythm. Moving on from my past isn't so easy because it clings to me in a much more physical way. I glare at my hands. My neck stings from itching it earlier, a reminder of what happens when I try to move on. I press my palm to the irritated skin, mouthing a short spell to heal the minor wound. Though the physical pain leaves, the mental agony always remains.

Let's say I try to talk to Draven, let's say our feelings were mutual, he deserves much more than what I can give. I can't bear the idea of asking him to wait for me. Wait until I can hold his hand without ripping my skin off. Wait until we can kiss without having a panic attack afterwards. How could I ask that of him when I have no idea if I ever will overcome this?

And telling Draven what happened to me is much different than telling Seren. I don't want him to know about where I came from, what my parents were like, what happened to me. I just don't. It's scary to think about. It's scary to imagine how he'll react, even if deep down I think I know he won't care. That doesn't ease this anxiety because that isn't how nerves work. They don't make sense. If they did, the world would be a much simpler place.

"Cyan?" Draven calls. I freeze. His footsteps grow closer, then he's standing in front of me. "I saw Seren head up to his room. Have you talked to him yet?"

"Uh, yeah, we talked."

"How did it go?"

I gaze up at his stupidly attractive face and pretty orange eyes. The ones that I've seen many people shiver in fear from, but they've always made me short of breath. Long before these feelings ever came to me, I thought they were the prettiest shade I'd ever seen. If Seren can move on from the church, I can move on from my own past, can't I? He never imagined this day would come. And I can't imagine ever changing. I can do this. I can tell him.

"Cyan?" He calls and I take a deep breath, hoping to steel myself for what I'm about to say.

"Seren's leaving the church." But I cop out like a coward.

"Relieving news," he says.

"Yeah. It's great." I get up from the couch, wishing to escape when I know it's hopeless. I can't escape my own cowardice.

I feel Draven's gaze on me when I walk by. My hands clench into painful fists. The heat of embarrassment tickles the back of my neck, so I hurry to my room where I lock myself away for the remainder of the day.

- - ┈┈∘┈˃̶༒˂̶┈∘┈┈ - -

We've learned about Cyan's past. Were you expecting this? Will he ever be able to move on from his past and talk to Draven? We also got the official letter Seren will be sending to th e church to renounce his title. So much going on! Reminder, if you want to read 15 chapters ahead and anything extra I've written, head over to patreon. It costs $2 to get access to a lot of content or you can follow my patreon for updates about future projects. If you follow, you don't pay anything, you just get to see content that I post publicly ^_^ I've left an external link or just go to patreon.com/twoony