Leaving Things
The hushed tones of an argument suddenly rose in exclamation snapped Talah awake in his bed. It quieted almost as instantly, but it was clear he hadn’t imagined it from the continued murmur from down the hall. He strained his ears to listen further, trying to avoid prying himself from the warmth of his bed early. He thought he almost caught a word, but the echo of an old house, the twitch of his ears, the pounding in his own chest, they all fought for his attention too hard.
It was nearly dawn, the etching of shapes coming into focus with the soft blue light making everything seem one milky grey color. The promise of a bright morning was still far off, dulled, and not yet committed to providing the light of day. The chill in the air brought goosebumps across his shoulders as Talah pulled his groggy frame from the warm nest of covers. He didn't bother binding himself up in leathers just yet. Curiosity got the better of him - the sense of safety his parents had worked so hard to provide had finally taken root enough to ignore the minuscule dangers of being exposed under his shirt.
Even as he opened his door, the individual words were too hushed to hear, almost hissed in their frustrated rush to spill their contents, meaning he could tell they weren't coming from Zaer. And even in the pauses, the warrior father was silent, or perhaps too quiet even for an assassin’s hearing. Talah slipped silent and bare feet out into the hall, pulling the sweater over his head to keep warm. One of the ones Flynn had gifted him over the holidays.
He approached the bathroom, inching closer to the master suite when the click of the door knob made him freeze. He didn't hide, though, like he once would. This was his home. His family. There was nothing he needed to flee from, but perhaps the instinct to not get caught still gripped him from somewhere primal. So he waited. Still as death itself, he was poised like an alerted deer in the forest.
“What will you tell him?” Zaer's deep tenor finally rang out through the crack in the door. It didn't sound as it should. Something was wrong and the anxiety seized the teen like a vice. Zaer was upset. No, even frustrated or emotional l he didn't sound…
It came out so broken, Talah didn't even wonder who ‘him’ was, suddenly ready to run in and defend his parents from this new threat.
“He’s probably still asleep, I don't want to bother him if I don't have to. Tell him whatever you think is best.” Flynn responded as he opened to door to see their son standing right there in the hall. Surprise spread across the man’s face, and then something else joined the expression Talah couldn't quite place - his attention was too focused on the duffel bag his dad was carrying.
Flynn left without a further word. Heading down the stairs, the sound of his steps pounding so loud in Talah’s ears the boy barely noticed Zaer coming out to join him in the hall, or that he reached for the hem of the warrior’s sleeping shirt. They stayed still until the final slam of the door left the world silent again.
“He’s not coming back, is he?” was all Talah could manage.
Zaer released a deeply unsatisfied sigh, and only answered, “Go pack your things.”
One more affectionate pat and Talah sprinted off in denial. Finding the first window he could that would show where Flynn was going, swapping to a different window, then another to keep him in sight as long as possible. He didn't call out, or cry, or beg; just watching until the brunette was out of sight and remained in place for the longest seconds in his short, fractured memory.
Future uncertain, past untraceable, there was soon nothing left to do but follow orders; comfort in doing as he was told. There was a brief acknowledgement that Zaer was waking Leona and Rennistraz with the news, but it was dampened and dulled. He would help look after them soon, but for the moment the boy needed... what did he need? He needed to pack. Talah went to the room with his things to bind himself in leathers and pack. All his training hit like a truck, taking over and held him together as each strip of armor hugged him tight. It had just been a place, like any other. Nothing he should have relaxed into and he would try harder not to get attached next time.
“Zaer. I'm ready to go.”
@zaerathian @batandmole