Bonus October Short Story? [Deleted Scene]

Hey guys!

This was originally part of Zaxis's short story, but I deleted it because it didn't connect well with the rest? It's just him interacting with Illia (there's some thematic connection, but not much) so I ended up removing it. A friend of mine said it was his favorite part, however, so I decided to post it as its own separate thing. Hopefully you guys enjoy!

[Deleted Scene]

We were heading to the world serpent’s lair so that Ryker could bond with the damn thing.

Curse the abyssal hells! Why did this have to take so long?

I stood in my room, my elbows on the windowsill. The guild manor house was atop an atlas turtle, which meant the scene beyond my window changed depending on our location. Right now, we had the company of the ocean. And that was it.

Well, some clouds, too. Couldn’t forget the abyssal forsaken clouds.

It was night, and the stars should’ve joined us on this trek, but the moon was absent from the sky. Darkness hung over the waves like a sad blanket.

Forsythe sat on his metal perch. It was close to my bed—but not too close—I didn’t want to wake up with soot in my blankets. That had happened a couple times, whenever Forsythe came to cuddle with me.

“What’re you looking at?” Forsythe asked me as he lifted his heron-like head.

“I’m looking for Illia,” I muttered, my gaze set to the edge of the atlas turtle’s shell. I almost couldn’t see it. “She’s usually out and about at this time of the night.”

“Is everything okay?”

“Yes,” I snapped. Then I took a breath. “Illia and I are great.”

“I didn’t mean that. I meant, is she okay?”

“Why wouldn’t she be?”

The darkness shifted with movement, and I wondered if it was Illia or Volke. Or maybe that princess girl, Evianna. There were too many people who shambled around the shadows for my tastes. It made it difficult to spot enemies.

Not that any enemies would attack us in the middle of nowhere…

Forsythe fluttered his wings. “She’s seemed melancholy lately.”

“She’s fine.” But then I mulled over Forsythe’s comment. His words invaded all my thoughts. “But—let’s say you’re not crazy—what gives you the impression something is wrong?”

“She’s been quiet. Secluded. And hasn’t slept long.”

“That’s how she is all the time.”

“It’s different lately. Everything seems… longer. She smiles less. Says less.” When Forsythe sighed, it was like a whistle through his beak. “I worry about her.”

Although I hadn’t thought anything was wrong, Forsythe’s words rang true. Illia had been a little off lately. And when I stared into the darkness over the atlas turtle, I didn’t spot her. That also worried me. Normally, she’d be practicing her magic—trying to master her manipulation—or talking to her eldrin, Nicholin.

Since she wasn’t outside, perhaps Forsythe was right.

I pushed myself off the windowsill and turned on my heel. “All right. I’m going to head to her room.” I pointed to Forsythe. “Watch my room. Make sure no one takes anything.”

Forsythe saluted me with one of his scarlet wings.

I marched out of my room and headed into the corridor. Lanterns kept the place lit, but half of them had been extinguished to keep the light low. Everyone had gone to bed. Well, most people had.

With careful movements, I made my way to the opposite side of the manor house. I wasn’t quiet. I tried my hand at stealth, but it didn’t come naturally. My armor—fitted well to my body and made of scales—didn’t clink, but each time I stepped, it was heavy. The floorboards protested my presence.

Illia’s room was like a second home to me. I made my way there through muscle memory.

I went to softly knock, but the air on my shoulder popped and I knew Nicholin had sensed my presence. The little white rizzel appeared on my shoulder, his ferret-like body small enough that he easily wrapped around my neck like a scarf. He wasn’t heavy, but his little feet tickled my skin.

“Shouldn’t you be sleeping?” Nicholin asked as he shoved his wet nose into my ear.

I grimaced and then grabbed his head. “Where’s Illia?” I growled.

“She’s in her room,” Nicholin said, his voice half-muffled through my hand. Then he bit me, and I jerked away. With a snort and a chuckle, he added, “Where’s Forsythe? I want to play with his feathers again.” He made little grabbing motions with his front paws.

“Back in my room.”

“I’m going to go surprise him.”

Nicholin made that statement like he was a bandit ready to snatch Forsythe’s most prized possession.

This was why I had left my eldrin. Nicholin had stolen too many of my damn things. He hid them under Illia’s bed like a little rodent thief.

With another pop of air—and a puff of sparkles—Nicholin disappeared from my shoulder. After that, I opened the door to Illia’s room and stepped inside. She sat on her bed, up against the wall, her legs crossed in front of her.

She wore a pair of loose trousers and a tunic, her normal sleeping attire for the manor house, but her eyepatch was on her lap. As soon as Illia heard the door squeak, she scrambled to grab the eyepatch and secure it into place, going so far as to twist the leather strap into her curly brown hair.

Illia gritted her teeth as she struggled, but the moment she realized it was me, she calmed herself.

“Zaxis?” she asked.

Then she gently removed the eyepatch strap from her hair and threw her eyepatch onto the bed.

I shut the door tight and walked over. Normally, she didn’t take her eyepatch off. Ever. Most had never seen her full face—with the scars that ran over her missing eye and onto her cheek. Some people would think her empty socket was disturbing, but it never bothered me.

That kind of injury would’ve crippled others, either emotionally or mentally. They would’ve given up. Too afraid of adventure. Too afraid of pirates. But not Illia. She was the type of person who never let anything stop her. I… I really admired that about her.

When I had told her that, over a year ago, it had resonated with her, I think. That was when she started taking her eyepatch off around me. No shame. No hesitation.

I sat on the mattress and scooted over to her. “How’s my starfish doing tonight?”

Illia rolled her one eye. “What have I said about that nickname?”

“No one else is here.” I waved to the empty room. Then I shot her a smirk. “We’re alone.”

That got her chuckling. “Fine. But don’t think of any new ones tonight. Some of your pet names just get weird.” Illia leaned onto me, her head on my shoulder. “You just came to check up on me?”

I stroked her wavy hair. “Forsythe got it in my head that you weren’t doing so well. I told him that was insane.” I waited for a moment. When Illia said nothing, I added, “It’s insane, right?”

“I don’t know,” Illia murmured. She reached up and grazed the scars across her face. “I’ve had a lot of nightmares lately…”

Damn. Forsythe had gotten this right? Now I looked like a lunatic who couldn’t love his woman properly because I wasn’t picking up on her distress.

I pulled Illia closer, my grip tight. She practically squeaked in surprise.

“What do you need from me?” I asked. “What’s bothering you? Need me to set something—or someone—on fire?”

“N-No,” Illia said, half-laughing. “But thank you for that, Mr. Pyro. I didn’t think you’d jump to that conclusion so quickly.”

“I’m ready at a moment’s notice, my lady.”

For some reason, that chilled her mirth. Illia grew quiet and still in my arms. She said nothing as she nuzzled against me, her ear on my collarbone, her hands on my chest. I didn’t mind—I’d protect her all night, if she wanted—but this was usual behavior. I didn’t need Forsythe to point it out to me this time.

“Do you think anyone would notice if I vanished?” Illia finally asked.

The question caught me off guard, but I was ready for anything. I forced some confidence into my tone and smiled. “Is this a joke? I would notice. Volke would notice. Hexa would notice. Master Zelfree would notice. You want me to keep going?”

Illia exhaled. “I just… I feel disconnected from people. Most of the time. And to make myself feel better, I separate myself from people further. Does that make any sense?” She sighed into my scale armor. “It sounds stupid to me.”

“Who cares?” I said as it rubbed at her arms, enjoying how soft she was whenever she wasn’t guarded. “I mean, I care about whether you’re sad, I meant—who cares if you sometimes need to separate yourself? I’m here for you. Always. Even if I have to wait out in the hallway.”

“That’s not what I meant. I’m afraid I’m distancing myself so much that no one will want to be around me.”

“If anyone makes you feel that way, they’re gonna have to answer to me.” I shrugged as I imagined punching a few people in the face for daring to bother Illia. But I knew they wouldn’t. Everyone was always concerned about her. Why couldn’t she see that?

“Thank you,” Illia whispered.

“Don’t worry, though.” I kissed the top of her head, her silky hair a delight to touch. “No one is going to do that.” The others cared about her. That much I knew.

Illia wistfully sighed. “Are you going to stay with me tonight?”

“If you want me to.”

She bit her lip and then slowly nodded.

I held her tighter again, content to sleep in the sitting position, if she wanted. My thought briefly went back to Forsythe, though. Would he be okay with that maniac, Nicholin? I hoped the two of them wouldn’t get into too much trouble…