*Spoiler Warning* - Takes place after some intense (in-game) events in Pendrago
It was late when Mikleo finally returned to the inn. It had been a long night in Pendrago with everyone wandering around, lost in their thoughts and wallowing in their grief. The light in the inn was dim, but warm, and Mikleo felt a little better at the sight of his friends as he closed the door softly behind him. They were all seated around a small table in the lobby, exchanging the odd soft-spoken comment, but there was no question that there was more silence than words. Of course, Rose probably would have looked like a crazy lady otherwise, as it would appear to the innkeeper that she was just talking to herself. That was when Mikleo noticed—there was only one human at the table.
"Where's Sorey?" he asked, earning the attention of four sullen faces—even Zaveid's. Mikleo was a little surprised the guy had stuck around, but even he had worn a look of disdain earlier when he'd picked Dezel's hat up from the ground.
"He hasn't come back yet," Lailah replied, voice soft and solemn, her green eyes meeting those of the water seraph. Mikleo was sure his own eyes widened a little at the sound of those words. He'd been hoping Sorey had already turned in for the night and that sleep had found him, but he should have known his companion would be beating himself up over what had happened before he could ever even think about settling down for the night.
"I should go look for him," Mikleo spoke up, immediately turning back toward the door.
"Hey, just come back in one piece, alright?" Rose said, eyes glimmering with tears as she looked up at Mikleo, but they still held a sternness within them, one that certainly made Mikleo want to obey. He gave her a bitter-sweet smile and a confident nod before retreating back outside.
Growing up with Sorey had taught Mikleo to think like Sorey, so it didn't take him long to retrace his steps back to the scene of the crime. Sorey was standing at the top of the stoney steps, staring up at the shrinechurch. Mikleo approached with silent, cautious steps, and Sorey jumped when a hand reached his shoulder. He clearly wasn't himself. Normally, he could sense Mikleo even when he was miles away, but right now, every bond he shared with his seraphim seemed to be out of whack.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to startle you." Mikleo came to stand in front of the Shepherd as he spoke, only to see long, wet paths trailing from his eyes to his chin. Mikleo threw a hand across his heart as it lurched uncomfortably. It had been a long time since he had seen Sorey cry. As a child, he had often shed a few tears when he had injured himself or come down with a bad cold, but since those days, Sorey's face rarely displayed anything but a smile.
"It's okay, Mikleo. I'm glad you're here," Sorey said, offering a smile that his seraph was desperate to see, but it was nothing more than a weak attempt to pretend everything was alright.
Mikleo reached out for Sorey's shoulders, and without a second thought, pulled him in against him. Disheveled, brown hair fell in against Mikleo's neck, and Sorey bit back a sob, letting his head rest upon his friend's shoulder.
"This isn't your fault," Mikleo whispered, promising his dear ally of that. His gentle voice was all it took for Sorey to break down, his hands reaching for the front of Mikleo's clothing and curling gently into the fabric. Mikleo's fingers rubbed against Sorey's back, each movement slow and meaningful as he tried to soothe the pure-hearted young man before him. After a few moments, Sorey's sobs died down, and Mikleo felt the moment was right to speak again.
"You shouldn't be out here by yourself. We wouldn't want Symmone to show up again," he gently reminded.
"She won't," Sorey breathed.
"Still, you shouldn't grieve alone. Every one of us is upset about Dezel."
"It's not just about Dezel. I mean, it sort of is. I get why he did it. Like Edna said, it was his way of finding peace," Sorey struggled to explain. He forced his head up and took a step back, meeting Mikleo's violet eyes, which were slanted with concern. Despite the distance between their bodies now, Mikleo kept his hands on the Shepherd's shoulders, maintaining a connection that made Sorey feel a little less alone.
The pacts with his seraphim used to be like a unified heartbeat, each of their pulses beating with his own in a consistent rhythm. Right now, the pattern was jerky, with long, dead spaces in between, and there had been some terrifying seconds where Sorey couldn't even breathe through the skipping beats.
"What is it, Sorey?" Mikleo asked, voice so tender, it made Sorey feel like he was glass and Mikleo was trying not to shatter him, but how often did water actually break glass? Only when it was too hot or too cold, and Mikleo always tended to be right in the middle of the two, just warm and gentle. Slender fingers stroked Sorey's shoulders through his cloak, but the comfort still sunk in as if they were skin on skin.
"Of course, I'm upset about Dezel, just like everyone else, but he had his reasons for what he did, and I have to respect that. But what happened after that..." Sorey trailed off, eyes closing tightly as he choked on his words, and Mikleo wasn't sure if it was from sorrow or pain. Sorey did look like he was physically hurting as he swung an arm up over his face, wiping at his tears.
"Sorey, what happened after that? Were you hurt?" There was desperation in Mikleo's eyes now, a need to know. He regretted that he couldn't sense what Sorey was feeling.
"When Dezel broke the pact, right before he made his sacrifice, it was like... a hole formed in my heart, right where the pact used to be. And then there's this pain that radiates out from it."
"Pain?" Mikleo quizzed, looking slightly horrified. He couldn't stand the thought of Sorey in any discomfort. The Shepherd reluctantly gave a nod.
"My whole body has been full of this constant ache ever since he passed," Sorey admitted, his gaze tumbling toward the ground. He felt Mikleo's grip tighten on his shoulders.
"Why didn't you say anything?" The water seraph's voice was harsher now, his eyes pleading to know more, but Sorey wasn't looking up to see them.
"I didn't want to worry anyone. They all had enough on their plate. Besides, I thought it was probably normal to feel something like this after losing a bond with a seraph," the Shepherd shrugged.
"You shouldn't hide this from us. Lailah might even know something about it if you ask her. She is a Prime Lord."
"Lailah?" Sorey let out a sniffling chuckle. "You know how she gets when we ask questions. She'd probably just dodge it."
Mikleo stared at Sorey for a long, silent moment, and eventually, Sorey's gaze travelled up to lock with his own. Perhaps Sorey did have a point, but Mikleo still didn't like that he had been suffering for hours and hadn't said a word. If Mikleo hadn't caught him breaking down, he probably would have set off in the morning with the rest of the group, never saying a word about feeling under the weather. Mikleo let out a sigh of defeat. Sorey was nothing if not stubborn—Mikleo had known that from a very early age.
"Whatever the case, you should take some time to rest before we leave Pendrago. We'll stay in town for a couple of days, let you recover—"
"No," Sorey shook his head, pushing forth a small smile. "It's okay. Everyone is doing their part to help me. I have to do my part as well."
"Urgh, why do you have to be so pigheaded all the time?!" Mikleo growled, and he raised his fist up to bonk Sorey on the forehead.
"Ow!" Sorey groaned, rubbing the injury, and scrunching his eyes up.
"Will you just listen to me for a second?" Mikleo asked, brows pulled downward into a frown. Sorey nodded obediently, and Mikleo's hand returned to his shoulder, caressing gently.
"You can argue all you want, but I'm not leaving the city until you're feeling better, and I know you won't leave me behind," he said, voice maintaining its dire tone. "Sorey, this journey won't mean anything if we lose you, so please don't try and fight me on this. Just rest until we understand what's going on. Please, Sorey." Mikleo was nearly pleading now, his eyes slanted with desperation and the deepest worry.
Sorey succumbed to his seraph's soft voice, and the tender look in Mikleo's amethyst eyes settled a section of the unease that dwelled in Sorey's heart. He felt the pulse of Mikleo's bond jump back to life and fall into sync. He put a hand to his chest in joyful surprise, green eyes popping open with relief. If a little heart-to-heart was all it took to fix his internal rapports with the seraphim, then maybe it wouldn't take long to repair the damage. One down, two to go.
Sorey appeared tearful again as he felt Mikleo's familiar stream of water course through his veins, and Mikleo stepped in closer, pulling Sorey back into his arms as the connection reached him as well, tugging them together like a needle pulling thread.
"You're right. I'm sorry, Mikleo," he whimpered, nestling his nose in against his seraph's neck, and feeling so thankful that Mikleo had always and would always be there to lean on—when he was lonely, scared, hurt, or simply in need of a friend. Mikleo would do anything he could to help or protect him, but Sorey realized he had to let him do those things; it was a two-way street, and he would do the same for Mikleo in any situation—protect him, comfort him, keep him safe and happy.
"Everything will be alright, Sorey," Mikleo vowed, his hands tousling the back of Sorey's hair as he held him close. Tears dried against the fabric of Mikleo's collar, and Sorey nodded against him. Yes. Everything would be okay.