Fire and Ice
The lights were out. Prox was sleeping.
It was to be expected really, Karst thought, as she trudged through the snow of her hometown. Fire could be generated through psynergy, but without constant usage of such power, such fire needed fuel to feed it. And whether it be wood or oil, such fuel was in short supply. So while the occasional fire might still burn, it was the embers of one rather than a fire in itself. No need to light the dark when none were awake to see it. And after all, if all went well, darkness and its coldness might no longer be an issue.
Kicking some snow aside, the Mars adept wished she was among those who would perform the first half of that task.
Even clad in armour and her dark red attire, Karst felt naked out here-unarmed. No creature that prowled the wastes to the north would dare attack Prox, even at night, but even so, it didn't feel natural to be without her weapon. Maybe it was instinct, maybe it was because of her unease about one of the two that would be accompanying her sister and Saturos. Few, if any Proxians trusted the smooth talking (if he talked at all) man named Alex, but most, if not all were willing to accept him as a necessary evil. He clearly had his own interests in mind when it came to restoring alchemy, not Prox's. If it wasn't for the fact that all of Weyard would benefit from the return of its energy source, his presence might have caused more people to question his motives. But once the Golden Sun rose, it would be come one, come all.
Yet Karst still disliked him. Maybe it was because his motives were so unlike the fourth member of the group that would depart tomorrow. And maybe such a departure was the reason she was still up this late…
"Karst?"
Well, she'd soon find out.
She didn't turn her gaze to meet that of the Valean, nor did she stir as his feet crunched on the snow. Either three years of training hadn't taught him how to shift his weight off the point of contact with the substance, or he simply wasn't trying to be subtle. Three years ago, Karst would have mocked him over the former possibility. Here and now, she suspected the latter. Felix could be quiet, but unlike Alex, he was honest. He wouldn't hide if there was nothing to hide. So while the plan was for him to return to his hometown wearing a mask, he wouldn't be hiding anything tonight.
Which was unfortunate. Right now, Karst would have rather faced a demon than the ugly truth of her circumstance…a weapon that her scythe would have been useless as.
"It is you," Felix continued, walking up beside his main sparring partner. "I knew that-…"
"I couldn't sleep."
"And you thought walking out here in the freezing cold would change that?"
Karst said nothing. She wanted to mock her…friend over his lingering sensitivity to cold temperatures. She wanted to find anything to fault him for. Yet she couldn't. Not without being petty. There was a precedent for that to be sure, how the silent man beside her made her feel like a child when there was only a year separating them. Yet this would be Felix's last night in Prox for quite some time, and whilst there'd be the expected pomp and circumstance tomorrow, she didn't want it to come just after a sour note.
"Listen, Karst, I-…"
"Don't do this," the Proxian whispered, meeting the teen's gaze with her own for the first time this night while raising a hand in feeble protest. "Don't say it Felix."
"Why?"
Karst opened her mouth…then closed it. Why indeed? Was it that some things didn't need to be said? Was it that it would make his departure tomorrow all the more bitter, and their promised reunion at Venus Lighthouse all the more distant? Or was it that the notion of hearing such words terrified her?
The Proxian didn't know, thought she suspected that Felix might, that he would say such words in an instant if Karst didn't want him to. Maybe that was why she…respected him. In a shrinking world where people either lived in ignorance or lied to themselves that the glory of the past was still retained, he was perhaps the most honest man she knew. Not blunt, not simple, just…honest. It was…endearing.
"I know what's bothering you Karst," Felix continued, the words almost as unpleasant as the ones she feared he might say any moment. "I've known what's bothered you for three years. I've accepted that. I've dealt with that. Yet running from a problem isn't going to change anything."
"Your fellow villagers did."
And there it was. Petty spite. The response of a child. Felix knew it, Karst knew it, heck, even Mars knew it if the warrior god was inclined to be like Venus here and now. Which Karst doubted very much. She'd fought in his name, and now she was being like a child who could barely walk, let alone wield a weapon.
So Karst began walking. Walking away. Walking back to Prox. And as the path of Mars dictated, she didn't look back…however much she wanted to.
She wouldn't look back until it was too late.
