Page 16 of The Dark Elf's Secret Twins

9

LYKAN

Six months have passed since I last saw Cyra being hauled out of Le Lazurt. A hundred and eighty days since I entered into the deepest depression. In a matter of five minutes, my life became rocked by the removal of someone who I didn’t even consider a friend.

Now I sit here in the middle of some random bar in the city, wondering if Cyra and I were on the course to become something more than what we were. At the same time, I’m trying to push the thought out of my head, dismissing it as overthinking… But it only makes sense.

Why else would I be feeling this way? Yet why am I feeling it in the first place? All we had been were enemies, somehow enjoying each other’s bodies hatefully but in the best way possible. Perhaps it would have been better had we not gone so far as we did.

I lean my elbows on the counter, pushing aside the few empty glasses I’ve already had. A bartender comes over and takes them from me. Playing music on a stage to my left is a group of chivdouyu. The music is good but nowhere near the level good enough for a club like Le Lazurt.

The bartender places another glass in front of me, filling it with zhisk. I knock it back in one go before glancing around me. The bar is filled with zagfer, all chatting and singing along to the music. Their faces are darkened under the ambient orange lighting of the lamps dotted around the bar.

I ask for another refill, again drinking it in one mouthful. This has become a regular thing for me, seemingly the only way to numb the forlorn sadness left in me by the departure of Cyra. I could have indulged in alcohol for free down at Le Lazurt but the bar there is just too painful for me to be around.

Not a day goes by in work where I don't think of the bartender who once mixed and served drinks there. I’m sure she made a killer cocktail. All memories of her departure have become a blur, I don’t even remember who she went to. I’ve blocked it all out.

Just then, a dark elf sits in the stool next to me . It’s a friend of mine who works in the city guard known by the name of Braythe. He’s by far the most intimidating dark elf on the force, standing over six feet with thick dark gray hair running down his back.

I could never tell when he was looking at me because he always wore a fine black powder under and around his pitch black eyes, dark as the night itself. Despite his appearance, he is somehow the most laid back elf I know.

“Another round please,” he calls to the bartender before turning to me. “Hey buddy, why the long face?”

“You know why,” I mutter.

“Are you still hung up about that Cyra girl? It’s been half a year, Lykan! I thought you two weren’t even a thing.”

“I’m not sure what it was Braythe, but what happened to her isn’t right, not one damn bit. Did you know she was a free woman?”

The bartender places glasses of zhisk in front of us.

“Wait, she had her own freedom? So how did she end up back in the possession of a dark elf?”

“She spilled some drinks on someone, something like that… I can’t remember too clearly. Fucking Benshobe just gave her away after that, all to save his own ass.”

At that moment, I notice a look of realization come over Braythe’s face.

“What is it?” I ask.

“I just remembered something I heard two nights ago. I was chatting with some of the other guards, they were talking about that whole incident and a name came up, supposedly the name of the dark elf who took Cyra.”

“Who was it?” I demand.

“Have you heard of the famed miou Nasthyn?”

“Yes! It was him, I remember now. Damn it… if only I hadn’t lost myself in these past months I wouldn’t have forgotten.”

“Do you know Nasthyn personally?” asks Braythe.

“My family does,” I reply.

“Ah, that’s right, your prestigious family of miou warriors,” he chuckles. “When you were one of the miou, did you ever fight alongside Nasthyn on the battlefield?”

“No,” I growl. “Do you know why? Because Nasthyn’s a fucking fraud.”

“Eh?”

“All that glorified bastard does is look at maps, that’s all he did when I was serving and I’m sure it’s still like that. He was never ever out there, fighting with the rest of us whil;e we spilled blood and bled for our city’s honor.”

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