Page 43 of The Dark Elf's Secret Twins

Benshobe sighs and runs a hand over his hair.

“I think you ought to take the night off. You’re too far gone to continue working.”

“Are you going to send me away like you did with Cyra?”

“Are you still hung up on her?” he says. “I thought you got her back.”

I wave him off.

“That’s not the fucking point. Just leave me alone.”

“You know I can’t do that. A drunk security guard looks bad for business.”

“Fine,” I quip. I push the chair back forcefully, grinding the wooden legs across the floor with an ear piercing screech. “I’ll get out of this dump.”

“Come back when you’re sober.”

I give Benshobe the middle finger and make way for the exit. I throw the doors open and step out into the chill of the evening air. The club has only been open for two hours into its evening service and I was already bowing out of my duties.

I begin the journey home, stumbling along the pavements and gripping the walls for support. I eventually reach my estate a half hour later, tripping as I approach the front door.

“Damn fucking ground,” I groan, struggling back to my feet. My mood only worsens when the keys drop from my pocket. I fumble around with them before finally getting inside.

In the main hall, I cast a sidelong glance towards the direction of Cyra’s bedroom. For a brief moment, I contemplate going over to see her. It feels awful knowing she’s just around the corner but that she wants nothing at all to do with me.

Sighing, I shake my head and make my way to my bedroom. Once there, my eyes gravitate to the glasses and alcohol sitting neatly inside one of the cabinets. Without hesitating, I pour myself one drink after another, laying on my bed as I finish a bottle.

I’m so absorbed in my own thoughts that I don’t notice myself passing out. Only when I jolt awake two hours later do I realize I’ve been asleep. A few seconds pass when a headache hits me out of nowhere. I throw a hand to my forehead, grasping it in agony.

“My fucking head,” I groan.

The full white moon still looms high in the pitch black sky. I can’t help but feel it judges me as I swing my feet onto the floor. In the dead silence of the night, the full weight of everything comes bearing down on my shoulders.

Even worse is knowing that there’s no one I can talk to. There’s no distractions around me but another bottle of zhisk from the cabinet but I don’t have the stomach. More than ever, I feel lonely and isolated. I look to the moon.

“At least you have the stars for company… What did I do to be so alone?”

It all comes rushing to me. The pain, the losses I’ve endured, the internal voices of regret and shame. To others, I may seem like a resilient elf but internally, I know I’m at my weakest point.

I don’t know what else I have left to lose. My brothers in arms, my honor… Shit, I had even lost my children for two damn years. The kids may have found their way back into my life but it’s not like they understand.

The one person who I know can make it all better comes to mind; Cyra. The image of her face brings a temporary moment of relief but it soon dissipates when I remember she’s nothing more than a stranger now.

“This is all too much,” I tell myself. “I don’t know what to do… And even if I did, would I even have the strength to move forward?”

I finally rise to my feet, fighting off the dizziness and pounding headache with deep breaths. The pungent smell of alcohol is overly apparent so I open my window to clear the air. I strip off my clothes and throw on a robe before heading for the door.

“Need… to get sober…”

Stepping out into the hallway, I stumble into the bathroom across from my quarters. A splash of cold water reinvigorates my senses, its icy sensation sending a chill down my spine. Only then do I notice how thirsty I am.

I need some fucking water.

I tread through the ghostly quiet hallways, hearing nothing but my footsteps and the nagging voices in my head. I descend down a flight of stairs and veer into the kitchen on my left. Only when I enter through the door do I notice the dimly lit lightbulb illuminating the room.

I don’t believe what I see before me. Seated at the table by her lonesome is Cyra, seemingly lost in a deep, meditative state. Under the glow of the yellow light, her skin is as clear and beautiful as ever.

What is she doing here?

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