Page 39 of Wizards & Weavers
The wizard let out a long sigh. Braiden watched as his excitement seemed to dissipate, his cheery mask disrupted for a scant few moments. There it was again, this exhausted version of Augustin Arcosa that Braiden had only seen in seconds and snatches. There was more hopeful intent behind these silly bubbly dreams than the wizard was letting on.
Braiden slowly finished the last of his drink, savoring the suds and the sugar. He watched the wizard through the bottom of his glass: vivid and vibrant through half a glass full of purple, then tired all over again once the color and sweetness had drained away.
Glass tinkled against earth and grass. Braiden wondered why Elyssandra had dropped her cup so suddenly, then stiffened when he saw that she’d traded it for the weapon at her hip.
Her sharp ears wavered, listening for something. She held the golden blade with a familiarity that was at once reassuring and chilling. The elf knew how to wield it, and Braiden feared for whatever stood in the way of its pointy end.
“We should head back inside,” she said, her voice steeped in unsettling calm. “Pretend we haven’t noticed. It’s all right. We’re fine. I just know that someone’s watching us.”
The three of them headed back to the jade flower, talking nonchalantly, though Braiden suspected that the other two were doing a finer job of pretending than he was.
Elyssandra had her knife and Augustin had his gale-force magics. Whatever it was that lurked in the long grass of the cavern, Braiden would feel better knowing that he could fend it off with a bolt of cloth or a gauze bandage.
His nerves settled when they returned to the warmth of the cottage. Elyssandra reassured them one final time that they were safe. Her relaxed posture and smile were more reassuring than anything she’d said. They bid each other good night, then went to their respective bedrooms.
Which, unfortunately for Braiden, meant his bedroom that he had to share with Augustin. He pushed the door open, his stomach in knots when he saw that they would have to share the bed, too.
“Well, this is simply remarkable,” Augustin declared. “To think that we’ve been afforded the very finest in elven accommodation. Out here in the dungeon wilds, too.”
Braiden couldn’t disagree. Again this had far surpassed his expectations of his first night in the dungeon. The bed was lavishly decorated, if not very spacious, its bed knobs carved into elaborate pinecones, the sheets sewn out of a soft, satin-like fabric that reflected the same jewel-toned accents found throughout the house.
The rest of the room was very basic, yet beautifully appointed in its sparseness. A chest of drawers stood alongside a full-length mirror, each finished in decorative flourishes of leaves and vines. And next to that, a plush stool, the perfect kind for someone to sit on while putting on or removing their shoes.
Augustin demonstrated the stool’s function, sighing in relief as he pulled off his admittedly lovely boots. He headed for the door in the far wall, pushing it noiselessly open, filling the brief silence with a whoop of delight.
“A lavatory. There’s a sink and a tub and everything! Elyssandra really is spoiling us. A bit too late to draw a full bath, I think.”
Just as well. Braiden didn’t want to begrudge the wizard his evening ablutions, but he didn’t fancy the thought of waiting for Augustin to finish splashing around in the tub before he got his turn to wash up.
The day’s journey had actually been shorter than he’d expected, but Braiden felt the exhaustion deep in his bones. Anyone would be tired if they had to fight a few elementals and save an airheaded wizard from a thorny pendulum-related death.
“Would you mind if I went first?” Augustin asked. “I promise, I’ll be quick. I won’t make you wait very long.”
Before Braiden could answer, the wizard was already unclasping his cloak and unbuttoning his shirt. The blood rushed to his cheeks as Augustin stripped down to the waist.
Elyssandra’s words from before came whizzing back to Braiden’s mind, something about how the wizard was so leanly muscled for someone who relied on magic.
Braiden stared at the bedspread, suddenly very interested in riffling through his rucksack, intent on setting his eyes anywhere but on Augustin’s very attractive physique.
“You go right ahead,” Braiden stammered, aimlessly unloading his things onto one side of the bed, finding any excuse to avert his gaze. “I’ll just be here.”
Out of the corner of his eye, Braiden saw the wizard shrug. The door to the lavatory clicked shut, the sound followed by the rush of water and Augustin’s happy humming.
Braiden picked out a comfortable set of clothes to wear for the night, realizing he’d also picked the side of the bed farthest from the lavatory and closest to the rest of the house. In case he felt too nervous in the night, perhaps, and needed to flee from the arrestingly handsome wizard with the annoyingly enticing frame.
It didn’t take long for Augustin to finish. Braiden barely registered the wizard telling him it was his turn before he rushed past, the faint scent of flowers wafting from his skin.
Braiden quietly shut the door, finding that the smell had lingered. It must have come from one of the many beautiful bottles arranged around the sink, a variety of soaps, tinctures, and lotions that had unfolded along with the hairpin house.
He watched as his reflection shook his head in the mirror, the both of them still not over the fact that this was their fanciest, most luxurious vacation yet. There were even fresh towels laid out by the sink, in various sizes, too, in case one wished to dry their hands, or their face, or their body.
Braiden resisted the urge to slather himself in all the lovely oils and potions secreted within the beautiful bottles, only taking the time to wash up nicely and clean his teeth. Once he’d changed into his night clothes, he returned to the bedroom.
Only to find that Augustin was not only still bare-chested, but bare-legged, too. He stood by the full-length mirror witha mournful look, petting his removed trousers with all the tenderness accorded to a sickly, beloved pet.
The way he was standing in front of the mirror afforded Braiden a sneak peek at the various muscular crevices he hadn’t already gotten an eyeful of just yet. Braiden clenched his fists and gritted his teeth.
“A shame about these pants,” Augustin said, this handsome mirrored apparition who only wore a sad face, snug striped underclothes, and very little else. “They were designed for me by a tailor in the garden city of the Il-venessi capital. Made as a set, of course, to go with the shirt. You wouldn’t really know from looking, but the material is meant to be comfortable in all kinds of weather.”
