14. Adjustments

There was quite a lot that Zepha had to get used to.

There was Zesha...well, more of a lack of him, now that he was gone and no longer serving Lord Zangurak alongside his twin. That was a constant thing that Zepha missed, and he would pray, everyday, that Zesha would come back, that they had never separated, that Zesha was still here serving Zangurak or that they could be training together every free afternoon they had.

Of course, that didn't happen. But yet he still hoped. He just wanted his brother back.

Another thing that Zepha had to get used to was the lack of sight. Some of his fellow Gurak mocked him for being unable to see, sometimes losing his way or bumping into various things and people. However, there was Yin to back him up, and so those that did mock him whenever Yin was around didn't really ever do it again after a couple threats and a few needles being thrown around.

And then one more adjustment was needed, and that adjustment came in the form of Yin.

Yin was the one constantly caring for him, helping him get dressed and the like since Zepha couldn't do all those things himself since he was blind. It hurt him, that Yin had to be worrying so much for him and stuff. And it was embarrassing at times, too-especially when she had to help him dress-...at least it was embarrassing for himself.

So when he asked Yin about that, he was surprised to hear that she seemed pretty okay with it all.

"I'm-I'm cool with it. Really, I am."

He gazed in the direction of where Yin's voice was coming from. "You're fine with dressing and undressing your childhood friend and fellow right-hand man of Lord Zangurak, Yin? Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Yin's voice sounded sincere. "I mean it." She paused, before speaking again as she held one of his hands in hers. "Zepha. I know that it's all weird to you that your best friend is literally taking care of you and stuff. I mean, even I think it's kind of weird, even though I'm a tailor and stuff. But...hey, we're friends...we've got to help each other out no matter how incredibly awkward it can get. Right?"

"Right..."

...It was now getting incredibly awkward.

"Erm, Yin? I need to shower?"

The two were currently in the bathroom. And Zepha was completely shirtless-he had yet to take a shower after the training they had done together earlier. Said training was harder than usual due to Zepha being blind, but he was growing used to being blind. He found himself able to pick up the sounds of people's movements better, able to sense when something was coming closer to or farther from him. Those skills would definitely be useful in battle-and Yin had been there to cheer him on, to encourage him.

Of course, right now was not training, it was bathing. And...it was really getting awkward now with Yin being in the same room as him while he was half-naked.

Suddenly, a question struck his mind.

"Yin?"

"Yeah?" He heard her tilt her head a bit. "What is it?"

"...How did the mission with trying to assassinate General Asthar go?"

There was a moment of hesitation, and then-

"I failed. Badly. Though Lord Zangurak let me off easy, saying I should wear more armor next time." He could hear her frown slightly. "Armor slows me down, though..."

"Then you'll need to get used to it." He responded quietly. "A good warrior adapts well to any situation-including wearing heavier, more durable armor than chainmail."

He heard her smile a bit. "True." There was a pause, before she spoke up again. "Zepha? Would that apply to relationships with others?"

He blinked a bit. "Relationships? Yin, what do you mean?"

Zesha, Zepha and Yin were childhood friends. They told each other secrets, had played together, had sparred together. They talked together, stuck together like glue. Nothing seemed to really separate them at all, not even as Yin went into the trade of assassination and being a tailor while Zepha and Zesha became right-hand men to Lord Zangurak.

At least, they could claim to be inseparable until now. Now Zesha was traitor to the Gurak Continent, and that meant that he wasn't with them.

Yin squeezed Zepha's hand a little. There was a pause, before Zepha felt Yin press her lips to his. The kiss was gentle, but brief, and Yin quickly pulled back only a moment later, letting go of his hand.

"Erm."

There was an awkward pause, before Yin spoke up quietly.

"Zepha...I understand if you don't...feel the same."

There was a pause, before Zepha leaned forwards to kiss her lips.

Unfortunately he missed and ended up kissing her nose instead. Yin giggled a bit, before kissing him on the lips.

"That's my nose, silly...my lips are here."

He couldn't help but chuckle a bit. "I see..."

"So, uh...does this mean we're romantically involved with each other?"

"...Yes, I think so..."

At least the adjustment in the form of Yin could be worked through a bit easier now.

Zesha was sharpening his swords in his room when he heard a knock on the door. He paused, before putting his swords aside and opening it to see a male human standing in front of him. He had olive skin and golden irises. He was tall, muscular, with short black hair which was partially shaved at the temples and adorned with a single feather. He wore a white short-sleeved shirt, over which he had a sleeveless black jacket, withdark trousers and thigh-high black boots with spurs as well as a black waist cape.

The two were silent, before the stranger in front of him spoke up.

"You're Zesha, aren't you?"

Zesha nodded. "I am." He muttered quietly in response. "May I ask as of who you are and why you're standing right in front of my door, human?"

Zesha wasn't going to act completely un-himself and act prim and proper in front of any human that didn't seem of authority. That wasn't like him. He'd rather stay himself as much as he could.

The other let out a quiet breath, before speaking. "My name is Dagran. I'm a mercenary on contract with Count Arganan, and I want to help you."

Zesha blinked a bit in surprise. "What...?"

Dagran only continued. "Look, I know that not a lot of us here at the castle trust you. I don't know why you're here except that you're going against your own kind..." He made eye contact with Zesha right then and there. "I know what it's like. To not be trusted. People don't just fear us mercenaries, they look down on us as well."

"I see..."

Zesha wasn't sure whether he should try trusting this person more or not. But he was willing to 'experiment' a bit with things. See how working with one person or another could lead to. If he was lucky, he could find out more about the Outsider...

"I was thinking," Dagran spoke up again, "I think I know a way of how you can earn trust with Count Arganan and everyone else in the castle, at least."

Zesha raised an eyebrow. "You think you know, or do you completely know?"

"...I completely know." Dagran finally answered. "If you take on the Tower of Trials and conquer it, you would be more in Count Arganan's favor...and that could help you be less likely to be assassinated, I guess..." He ended awkwardly.

Zesha paused, thinking. Dagran could be right-but what if it didn't work?

Well, no harm in trying. And this Tower of Trials sounded like a good excuse for Zesha to practice his fighting skills.

"Sounds good."

Calista looked around quietly. She'd been wanting to speak with Zesha, but he wasn't in his room.

So where was he?

The answer was in the military wing of the castle, training with none other than Dagran. When she found them, the two were sweating, clashing blades with one another.

"You're pretty good." Dagran huffed, ducking to dodge a swing of the swords from Zesha.

Zesha sidestepped a stab attack, nodding in response. "You're not bad, either..." He then turned, his eyes widening in surprise. "Cali-I mean," His words fumbled a bit, before he stopped and recomposed himself, bowing slightly. "Lady Calista..."

Dagran also turned, also bowing a bit to acknowledge her presence. Calista let out a breath, before speaking.

"It's fine, it's just the three of us in here." She started, walking towards them. "I was looking for you, Zesha."

Zesha blinked. "What for?"

"Well..." Calista winced, before speaking up. "Apparently all of Sir Therius' armor got stolen just now. Therius claimed that Yin could have done it..."

Zesha winced a bit at this. "Yin? Well, they do have similar body-builds...so...I guess that would make sense..."

Dagran made a bit of a face. "Does that mean Therius is running around with no armor on or will he get new armor made?"

"For now, the former option, but later the latter option..." Calista trailed off awkwardly. "I hope he gets some new armor soon..."

Therius sat in his room, obviously annoyed.

"Give my armor back!"

"Really? Should I?" Yin gave him a little half-grin. "You look dashing enough without it-"

"Shut up."

Therius was now stuck in nothing but a plain shirt and pants-it beat being in rags, but it still wasn't good. Yin paused, before waving and rushing off.

"WAIT!"

Of course, he lost her. And now he was in his room somewhat sulking about it.

It seemed that ever since he met Yin, things had just gotten weirder for him. First she was admiring his skills at fighting (which was nice), then she lent him her sword (which was a bit more nice), and then it turned out that she stole his sword (which was not nice), and now she stole his armor (which was seriously not nice at all).

That had to be the oddest thing that ever really happened to him, honestly.

And now these stupid feelings were coming up. And they were getting rather annoying.

He should seriously hate her more than the mercenary he had gotten into a fight with that one time. Seriously, who goes and steals other people's armor and sword?

But then why was he getting butterflies in his stomach? Why did he keep feeling more awkward about this every time he thought about this entirely ridiculous situation?

Therius buried his head in his hands.

"Why now...?" He muttered.

Yes. Why did it have to be now that possible romantic sentiment had to come into the picture?

Then again, lust wasn't any better, either.

Thank goodness he had enough self-restraint. Had it not been for that, he would have banged his head against the wall in frustration.