Look, I'm not dead! I found out people actually like my story, so I wrote chapter two. I must say, it's muchmuchmuch better than chapter one. So, uh, here it is.
"And therefore," Shinon managed to beat the ever-present alcohol and only allowed words to be expelled through his mouth, "if a certain someone hadn't decided to send the entire camp out to protect some run-down village, I wouldn't have to be making all my bows out of tree branches and underwear elastic, those sub-humans wouldn't be shredding us in their sleep from the close quarters, and that pale girl over there wouldn't be staring at that swordmaster like she's gonna eat him!"
Shinon's words brought Ilyana's attention to him and away from Zihark – who was picking something out of his teeth, yet Ilyana found him somehow entrancing. Her face turned pink, so she pretended to interesting in rearranging her moldy cheese and dry jerky to make it more appealing.
Mia, after sharing a laugh with Mist about how that was probably the longest sentence every spoken by a drunk man, glanced over at Ilyana. She nearly gasped when she saw her. "Ilyana!" She said in a hushed voice (probably more for dramatic affect than anything, really). "There's food on your plate, rather than a blur! Are you sick?"
Ilyana didn't respond, or even acknowledge Mia's presence. Either she actually didn't hear her, or she was much too interested watching Gatrie drag Shinon out of the tent by his ponytail, the archer in question trying to pick a fight with one of Gatrie's pant legs.
Mia's hand was on Ilyanas forehead for emphasis, but Ilyana ignored her again. Mia only had one trick left, and she was sure it would work. "Well, I guess if you're not hungry, I'll just take this." She reached for Ilyana's cheese, but as her hand just barely touched it, Ilyana slapped it away without looking at her. 'Well, I got her attention,' Mia thought. Finally, she resorted to Gatrie's method.
"Alright, Ilyana's not feeling well. Put this in a doggy bag for her, will ya, Oscar?" she said rather loudly, rising to her feet. She took hold of one lavender pigtail in each hand and yanked. Ilyana squeaked in pain and finally gave in. She followed Mia out of the tent, shivering at the cold winter air.
"Alright, 'Yana, something's bothering you, and I mean really bothering you if you're not eating." Mia put her hands on her hips and pouted.
"Yeah. I mean, kind of. I mean, I'm not sure." Ilyana explained, rubbing her hands together for heat. Mia's eyes brightened.
"Well, what is it? Is it juicy?" Mia asked, suddenly excited.
"Not really. I mean, kind of. To some people."
"Well, spit it out already!" Mia said, becoming impatient.
Ilyana sighed, looking down. "Well, Zihark and Volke have been spending an awful lot of time together. They opted to be roommates even before the ambush, and Volke only takes his mask off for Zihark," she said slowly, her eyes looking sad. "Do you think they're…?"
Mia couldn't help but chuckle. "'Yana, you and I hang out together all the time, and nobody thinks we're lesbians or something. I think you're over-reacting."
Just as the words left Mia's mouth, the swordmaster and assassin in question left the dining tent, laughing at something. The girls quieted and hid behind a tree, peering out over the sides. "Well, I'm gonna go train a bit before it gets to dark. See you back at the tent." Zihark gave Volke a wave before heading off, but Volke smirked and slapped him on the ass before parting in the opposite direction. Zihark right near squeaked, blushed, smiled a bit, and walked off.
Zihark wasn't the only one blushing. Mia was bright red. Ilyana wasn't, she had seen it before. "See what I mean?" she said, sounding hopeless. "Maybe I should just give up and let them be together."
Mia crossed her arms. "Oh no, missy. There is no way I'm letting you be miserable like that. Besides, we don't even know for sure if they ARE together!" She stood up from her crouched position and tapped her chin. "Well, out options are few and this is going to be tough, but 'Yana, I think I have a plan." She leaned over to Ilyana and whispered in her ear.
And thus, Operation 'Find Out if Volke and Zihark are Together' began.
Zihark slashed through the bark of a tree with a grunt. The blade he had chosen was duller than he had thought, and it was proving to be a pain in the neck. But he didn't have time to sharpen it, he'd just hold it out in front of Soren and let him freak out because they would be unprotected in battle.
He got back into position and stabbed at the tree, full force. The impact left a nick in the tree but also broke the blade in two. He held up each piece in either hand and sighed. From behind him came a chuckle.
"If you twist your hand like you just did before you strike, the blade will get stuck in the ribcage and you're out a weapon." Mia was leaning against a tree, arms crossed. Her voice was totally calm, and her face had a small smirk. "Luckily, I forgot I had a sword in my sheath before I brought one." She tossed him the weapon, he clumsily caught it. Mia drew her own, a shiny silver blade she had brought into the battle when the Daeins ransacked their camp. Ziharks was a simple iron sword. She got into her battle stance. "At your ready."
Caught totally off-guard, Zihark slowly raised his weapon. "Ever ready to train, Mia? I should have seen this coming."
With one last smirk, Mia lunged at Zihark. He blocked her strike with his own sword, but she had anticipated it. Her free hand grabbed Zihark's sword wrist, twisting it so his sword pointed behind him. She held her sword under his neck in a kill-pose. Within a moment, their duel had ended.
"Pathetic," she said, rolling her eyes. She lowered her blade, sheathed it, and took a few steps away from Zihark. "You're not focusing. I can see it in your eyes."
Heart pounding from adrenalin, Zihark shrugged. "I don't know what you're talking about." He turned away from Mia and began waving his sword again.
"Oh yes you do. Something's up, and you know it. So, what is it, Hot Shot? You sick? Lonely? Having love problems?" Zihark's face went a shade lighter at Mia's words.
"No," he said, his voice remaining calm. But Mia wasn't stupid (Okay, not blind at least) and had already seen the look on his face.
"I knew it! So who's the lucky gal? Or guy, I don't judge," she said, emphasizing on guy. Zihark rolled his eyes.
"You'd never guess," he said simply. He sheathed his sword and turned on his heel, leaving Mia behind. "I'll see you back at the tent, I guess."
Mia crossed her arms and pouted. Zihark was harder to crack than she thought.
Ilyana shyly approached Volke. Though she was all for finding out if the two were together, she wasn't happy she had to interrogate Volke. He was intimidating, with the mask and all. Of course, she wouldn't have much more nerve if it were Zihark. Oh well, here goes. "Volke?"
The assassin didn't even bother to look up from the knife he was sharpening. "Oh, you talk. What do you need?" He cut some stray rope with the knife, frowned, and began sharpening again.
What did she need? Mia hadn't told Ilyana what to do, and she didn't have a plan. "Uh, well, can I help you?" Yeah, that was stupid. Ilyana is aichmophobic, why do you think she's a mage?
Volke could tell she was improvising. But he was almost finished and needed some cheap entertainment. "Alrighty, then. Think fast." He flicked the knife to the side, and it whizzed right past Ilyana's ear. It took all her willpower not to scream. Volke smirked.
"Uh, nevermind. I guess you're finished." She was just about ready to turn tail and run, find Mia, and tell her she was out. But Mia would take that as an excuse to do something even more drastic, like lock Ilyana and Zihark in a closet together or something. She sat down on a crate next to Volke. Time to do what anyone else would do in this situation – lie to get results, then bolt. "So, I think I saw Sothe following Astrid around like a lost puppy earlier today – he had this dreamy look in his eyes. Is something up between them?"
It was probably the worst lie she would come up with, and she knew it. Volke did too, he began laughing (A/N – Try imagining Volke laughing. I dare you.) "And during this time, were you asleep or hallucinating from lack of food, dear?" Volke got out between chuckles. "I guess you were spaced out during dinner tonight, because Sothe and that short mage, y'know, the redhead? Use your imagination, but keep in mind they're kids." Volke said, finally recovering and using a normal tone of voice. Ilyana was bright red in an instant.
"Oh, I guess I must have been seeing things!" she said, trying to cover herself up. But Volke wasn't dense.
"Of course you were. Now, why bring this up? It's not the craziest thing that's happened around here. Aren't you and Zihark together?" Volke asked.
As if Ilyana wasn't red enough. "W-what are you t-talking about?" she asked. But his question answered hers, he wouldn't be wondering if Ilyana and Zihark were an item if he was already together with him "Anyway, I think I hear Mia calling, bye!" She stood up, darted away from Volke, tripped over a drunk, sleeping Makalov, and finally made it out of the tent. Which led to further problems.
"Ilyana, you're all red! Are you sick?" Zihark asked, returning to the tent from training with Mia. His hand was on her forehead, and boy, was her face warm. "Yikes, you're burning up. Hold still!" Zihark dropped his hand from her forehead and picked her up bridal-style. "Come on, I'm taking you to Rhys."
His mere presence alone made her dizzy. His touch made her burn up like a Yule log. Being carried by him was enough to make Ilyana faint.
Ilyana slowly opened her eyes. Her vision was foggy, but she could tell she was inside a tent. She sat up, and leaned against the pillow someone had put behind her head. Once she could see clearly, she was blushing again.
Zihark was asleep on a box next to her makeshift bed. Rhys was at the other end of the tent, reading something. He glanced up to see she was awake. "How are you feeling? You've been out for a while now."
"I feel fine. What happened?" she asked. All she remembered was an awkward conversation with Volke, running into Zihark, and then nothing.
Rhys stood and walked towards her bed. "Zihark brought you here unconscious. He said he thought you had a fever, and when he picked you up, you were out cold. I checked you out, and we're lucky Zihark brought you here, you were just short of getting pneumonia." He felt her forehead and smiled. "You're getting better already. I guess the sudden cold and your lightning-fast metabolism hit you harder than normal."
Ilyana glanced to Zihark, who was snoring softly in the corner. She blushed a bit, but Rhys didn't notice. Her lips curled into a small smile, before mouthing the words, Thank you.
Aw, that was cute. The idea of Volke and Zihark being together was imagined in the immensly crackified brain of FlamingDoritos, for nobody else in this wide world could imagine such a pairing. Go read her stories, she's uber.