Chirping. Rustling. He took a deep, calming breath and closed his eyes. The sounds of the woods were all at once quiet and boisterous, a noisy, chaotic din of life.
And there, under all of it, was the familiar sound of conversation: lower, masculine voices punctuated by the higher, brighter voices of women. A smirk begrudgingly crept to Dais's lips.
He waited on the porch another moment before climbing quietly to his feet and turning into the front doorway. After days of fretful stillness, the house had quickly descended into its normal commotion, with most of its inhabitants currently in residence in the living area.
"You have to know how you do it." Kento's voice erupted over the table, his insistence clear.
"I'm telling you, I don't." Iris's reply was remarkably patient. She was seated on the floor, Mia sitting behind her working a comb through her thick, dark locks of hair. "It just happens."
"That doesn't make any sense!" Hardrock planted both hands on the table now and pushed up on to them.
"We're talking about magical armors," she argued, "and you're looking for sense?"
"The washing powder is in the kitchen?" Anubis interrupted, emerging from the hallway with a large basket tucked under his arm. He had collected the blankets on which the woman had slept for the last several days, piled into the bin to be cleaned.
"Yes, the cabinet across from the stove." Iris offered him a pathetic glance, "I really appreciate you doing that." The Warlord dismissed her statement with a gentle shake of his head before proceeding toward the kitchen.
"So when you say it just happens," Rowen started, redirecting the conversation, "you mean you just move?"
"I—guess." Her words were slower now, hesitant, and the slightest furrow crept across her brows. "You all seem very suddenly interested in the armor." Dark eyes passed over Rowen and Kento in turn. "Since you came back from Toyama."
Sage's violet eyes peered up from beneath golden locks, then shifted uncomfortably to Ryo. Mia's hands ceased their work, comb lingering just over the dark strands flowing through her palm. Anubis stopped in the kitchen doorway at her words and turned his head over his shoulder. A sudden, uneasy silence permeated the room, and the disquiet did not go unnoticed.
"What are you not telling me?" Iris pressed, her eyes settling firmly on Rowen. The blue-haired man exchanged a tense glance with Mia, who quietly set the comb down and released the woman's hair. She got silently to her feet and trailed off down the hallway toward the bedrooms, an action Iris followed before looking back to the warriors. Her suspicions had peaked and her patience had waned. "Rowen."
"We found the rest of the legend," Ryo interjected. "We know exactly what Talpa's planning."
"He needs human sacrifices to create a bridge between the Nether World and ours," Sage added. "Specifically, the wielders of the armors created from his."
Mia returned now with a thick tome clasped in both hands.
"Staves of spirits nine forge the bridge," Rowen recited.
"Nine?"
Iris's tone made Hardrock wince. Severe, distrustful. Anubis had turned round to face into the room now, watching her carefully. Dais remained silently lurking in the doorway, arms crossed and shoulder against the doorframe.
"Nine." Sage's reply offered no comfort or reassurance. "The Oblivion armor isn't in the legend."
"It must have been missed in transcription," she asserted.
"This was transcribed exactly," Mia contested, stepping closer.
"Then it's wrong." Iris looked up at her sternly, bringing a frown to the woman's lips. She took a deep, calming breath before lowering to her knees beside her and placing the book on the floor.
"You can see for yourself," she offered, drawing the book open and carefully sifting through the pages. Finally, she settled on the page emblazoned with familiar, circular emblems: numbered nine. Looking up, Mia found Iris's head shaking very slowly, though whether the gesture was of disbelief or something else, she could not be sure. "Iris, the Oblivion armor isn't in here."
"I am its keeper," Iris said, her voice quivering. She was trembling ever slightly, her eyes burning. Her face betrayed a muddled mixture of indignation, anger, disbelief. "Kaosu himself trusted me with protecting the armor from Talpa."
"No one's disputing that," Rowen assured her.
"Why would he have done such a thing if it didn't need to be protected?"
"We never said it didn't!" Ryo's voice was tinged with frustration. "We know this thing is powerful! It's more powerful than all of ours. But it isn't mentioned with ours, either."
"And what does that mean?"
"It means your armor didn't come from the same place ours did," Rowen answered. "It isn't like ours because it didn't come from Talpa." His words brought a long, uneasy pause.
"Then where did it come from?" Iris watched him with narrowed eyes.
"We don't know," he conceded.
"Where do you think it came from?" Her voice was slow and deliberate. Strata was quiet for several moments, his gaze locked with hers as he considered his answer carefully.
"Maybe the Ancient himself." He saw her spine straighten and draw back, as if she was retreating. "Think about it. It's more powerful than any of our armors. He told us if Talpa found it, it would be enough to destroy the mortal world even without the others. And the Ancient defeated Talpa, right? How?" The woman's eyes had not budged from him. "He must have had something that was really powerful."
"Something like your armor," Sage added.
The warriors watched nervously as she sat, shaking her head slowly to herself. Disbelief was crumbling, giving way to devastation. Her breath was hitching, and watery eyes diverted around the room as if evaluating an escape route.
"Iris, this doesn't change anything," Ryo offered. "The Ancient chose you to protect the armor, no matter where it came from, and he sent us to find you for a reason."
"We just don't know where you fit in all of this," Rowen agreed.
"Seems to me you've already decided that I don't." Her voice was calm and resolute now. Iris pushed up cautiously to her feet, her hand clasped gently to her wounded chest. She moved swiftly to the door and pushed past Dais, avoiding his piercing gaze as it followed her.
"Iris!" Mia called.
"I've got her," Anubis said quietly, setting the laundry basket down. He hurried across the living space and out the door, Dais turning sideways to allow him to pass.
"Well, that went exactly like I thought it would," Kento sighed. Rowen ran his fingers through his hair with a frown.
"Iris," Anubis called into the yard. He could see her traversing one of the cemetery's winding paths, dried leaves crunching noisily beneath her feet in her haste. The Warlord paused in his pursuit momentarily and drew a breath. Finally, he called out into the breeze, "Svnoyi."
She halted abruptly in her steps. As he approached, she swung round on her heels, her face unyielding.
"I told you never to call me that again," she hissed.
"It worked," he stated simply. He saw the shaking, furious breath she drew through her nose as she rolled her eyes away from his gaze. Reaching out, his hands settled gently on her shoulders. "I don't understand why you are so upset." A dry, incredulous laugh breathed past her lips.
"Everything I have known for over four-hundred years might be a lie," Iris replied.
"The Ancient trusted you with the Oblivion armor. That is true, and it is the only truth that matters."
She met his gaze, tears lingering along her bottom lashes and threatening to fall. Blinking precariously, Iris managed a calming breath before speaking again.
"Did you know?"
"Yes," he confessed.
"How long?"
"Since the festival."
"And you didn't say anything." She shook her head briefly and diverted her gaze, turning her head away from him. Her lips trembled as she struggled blink away frustrated tears. "You should have told me."
"And what would that have accomplished?" Anubis's voice was dubious. He tilted his head a bit to try to meet her gaze, though she refused to acknowledge the gesture. "You were unresponsive for days. And when you finally woke up, you were incoherent. Muttering nonsense. I doubt you even know what you said."
His words recaptured her attention. She turned her head back to face him now, her gaze meeting his. For a moment, he was taken aback by the fierceness of it, and his fingers instinctively squeezed her shoulders as if anticipating a strike.
"I know exactly what I said," she stated, her voice firm. "And I meant every word of it."
Words eluded him as his heart leapt into his throat. Iris's gold-flecked eyes remained locked on his, a lingering fire flickering in their depths. Anubis released her shoulders and reached up to cup her jaw in his hands. His thumb stretched to gently brush across her cheek, and as she brought her hands to rest softly against his chest, his heart pounded wildly. Finally, the Warlord drew her jaw up and leaned down to press his lips tenderly to hers.