Time: Late afternoon. Date: March 8th. Location: The Crayhorn Estate, Khaggon. Status: closed @glynwarrens.
Efrain had finally returned home after three days of panicking. There was no better word for it. He’d panicked. He’d hurt his dearest friend, his baby brother, and had learned that for all his attempts to help people, he’d simply hurt them. Anxiety coiled in his chest, around his heart, as he stepped through his own front door. He had only seen his parents briefly after the disaster, had mumbled something barely coherent about what had happened, and had fled their presence the moment they’d tried to comfort him.
Only a week ago he’d comforted Avriel in Arx. He’d seen how hurt he’d been and how hollow he was afterwards and yet he’d still caused him more pain. Then he’d abandoned him to it. When they’d first met, he had feared that he would be a terrible brother, a useless one, and all he’d done since was prove himself right. He chewed his lip as he set his coat and things his own bedroom door before marching down the hall. He resolutely did not look at the study door. He’d disabled the lock, and the spell was gone, but the sight still made him sick to his stomach and caused his head to ache. In his absence, he had spoken to a high ranking cleric about the damnable geas and had been given a proper sling for his arm. They’d assured him that the pain in his head, the aftershocks, would fade eventually, but for now they felt inescapable and vile.
Too soon he was in front of Avi’s room. A door shouldn’t be so daunting, but Efrain would have preferred to face a dozen vampires and ghouls than to face his brother. He forced his breath to steady even as his heart continued to beat at a rabbit’s pace and knocked. “Avriel?” he called. “Avi, are you home?”