You don’t really want to listen to Aurelian saying I told you so.
It’s invisible but present, from the pointed silence to the way he keeps his distance from you. Truthfully, the silence is welcome.
The journey is not though. For the next thousand steps and after, the mundane ruled. Oh, there’s a goblin with a dagger than you kick aside now and then, and occasionally a room housing mysterious trinkets. Nothing that screams exit. You suppose you should be grateful that nothing also screams danger.
After such a long silence, you try to sneak looks at Aurelian. Just to make sure he isn’t plotting something. From the look on his face, he is. What is that thing he keeps rubbing his thumb over?
You’re curious.
About three hundred steps later, Aurelian quickens his pace to draw parellel with you. Finally. He’s holding some sort of silver vessel. After some searching, your brain recognizes it as a drink vessel.
Aurelian has that suave look on his face once more. You don’t like it.
“Relax, Merlin. This is merely one of my favourite drinks.” He pours some of it into his mouth, rim hovering. “Long talks can induce thirst, much less an expedition like this. It’s sweet, I promise.”
Oh just a drink? Like the ones Fritz-or whatever his name was-used to lure in students from the Lyceum? Just a drink?
Aurelian offers you the silver vessel, inviting you to take a drink.
Do you accept?
Accept. Don’t accept. Go back a step. Back to the beginning.
