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2. The Gleam & The Gloom

2. The Gleam & The Gloom

Uthwix, unsurprisingly, was who Hexlith woke to, her white feathers twitched every which way as she stitched her brother up. Thankfully he wasn’t wounded too badly, spare for a few mid-flight lacerations that needed tending to. Nothing his sister couldn’t patch up, especially with her profound knowledge of alchemy, which made her as close to a mage/witch in this day and age as one got. Her pastel purple eyes lifted gently to look into her brother's hazel gaze, which stared off into space, idle.

“Your mind seems more wounded than your body, what happened?” She asked, seamlessly threading one part of his wing to another. “You fell as soon as you walked in…”

“I almost died-”

“-You ‘almost die’ a lot.”

Then came a short pause, before he found an appropriate answer “I… was saved.”

Uthwix stopped, much longer than Hexlith had, as she looked up from her stitch job, to his wounded expression; As if trying to point out what she herself was doing at this very moment. Yet alas, the serious visage couldn’t hold in the wake of her brother's, which she focused on for a second, intensifying her gaze upon him momentarily - before he spoke again. He looked from the window, to her, squinting as he did.

“Have you ever seen a Nephilim with red feathers? Like… Ever?”

Uthwix lifted her head, staring back at the wound she had tended to. At first - she was a little taken aback by the words ‘I was saved’ considering she had been the one to save him on oh so many occasions in the past. Instinctive envy aside, she sat back in her chair, as she thought a bit deeper about what Hexlith had said.

“No, usually they’re calmly hued…” She remarked, as she tilted her head to the left, allowing her gaze to drift up toward the ceiling fan. “Hm…”

That’s what he thought, but hearing clarification had brought something to light, his eyes narrowed as his head hung low, orbs plastered to the blanket on his lap. He had gotten a weird feeling when he met her, one that superseded his fear of the moment. A feeling that resurfaced alongside her words - which he still… couldn’t pinpoint the origin of. The words stayed vivid in his head, yet their meaning eluded him. Lest, before he got too into his train of thought, he heard a soft giggle from his sister, who - as he looked to - looked away.

“Wha-”

“Go look in the mirror- you’re all patched up Hexxy.” She cackled, her hands braced over her ivory beak as she tried to hold herself back from laughing too hard.

Hexlith, still confused, and dazed, gave her a curious look, before laughing alongside her as awkwardly as possible. He set the bedsheets aside, and moved to his feet. Slowly but surely, he stood and limped his way over to the mirror, where he saw it… the oh so necessary weasel eyes! Vibrant hazel in color, they were used primarily to save one's hide from the deathly glare of a cockatrice, and secondly? As a weird fashion sense. The latter of which, was probably what the Nephilim was referring to on his way through the gates. A thought which engulfed him in a brief fit of laughter, before taking out the lenses, and seating himself on the edge of the bed.

“Well that explains it…” He quipped, with a shaken head.

His usual, dark blue gaze rose from his lap, up to Uthwix with a short grin. One he gave her when he had something on his mind, one he was more willing to let ruminate, than spill. Uthwix knew her brother well enough to know though, that he’d only sit on it for at most - a day, until something was done. What that thing would be was yet to be seen. She had faith in ‘Hexxy’ regardless, especially with the encroaching look of confidence that appeared in his eyes, as he stood and moved to his desk. His left hand drifted toward a pen, while the other pulled out a piece of paper for him to write on; What he wrote?

Stolen content warning: this tale belongs on Royal Road. Report any occurrences elsewhere.

“Unm tle ol tahwia.” The Magkin murmured in poor pronunciation, which brought about a shaky smirk, as he pulled his chair underneath his arse.

“Tahwia? Hmm…? Who’s calling you that, my dear brother?”

Uthwix inquired, as she approached his desk; a spherical bottle in her hand, which contained a glittery, celestial liquid within. A constant disarray between red, and blue, as they attempt to swirl into the coagulation of purple. A marvel that Uthwix focused a majority of her attention on, looking over to her brother, and what he was doing every so often, as she did. Hexlith on the other hand, sat back in his chair, arms crossed in contemplation. His head tilted to the side to look at Uthwix’s potion.

“The red… feathered Nephilim…?” He said with a certain amount of anticipation in his voice, as he began to think his sister knew what he was talking about.

The pause that existed within his question, and her answer- was filled only with laughter, as she placed the bottle down atop a ring stand, and leaned down to hug him as rough as possible. “The Thasclea- they call my work ‘Tahwi,’ it means ‘nice’ in Celestial, but if you add the ‘a?’ It becomes a bit more… intimate. If you get what I’m suggesting~”

With that revelation, Hexlith’s entire demeanor altered. He reeled, flustered by the realization that in some regard- the woman he met in the woods called him ‘Tahwia.’ However, as that reality began to set in? He became less tense, joining Uthwix in her laughter. Something she brought to a halt almost the instant he joined, resulting in a sudden, yet brief silence between the two.

“...How much more Celestial do you know?” The darker Magkin inquired, as he sat up in his chair, and looked at Uthwix in full! A ray of light from the windowsill, shone upon the only white on his body: A single slash of silver between his eyes and beak, which contrasted the rest of his iridescent feathers.

Seeing the blue eyes of Hexlith look back at her, instead of the weasel-hazel ones was a nice change; But, she started to regret telling him. These eyes, colored like a dim, moonless night sky, held a much more intimidating aura to them that emanated a sense of gloom. Nevertheless, Uthwix sighed, and averted her gaze onto the piece of paper that Hexlith had used to write the passage. Another of the words stuck out, as once more- the Thasclean’s used it when she worked with them. She leaned over the desk a bit, and placed her taloned finger down onto the word ‘tle.’

“This means arm, but is most often used to refer to wings, ‘specially if this is a Nephilim- or better yet a Thasclean we’re talking ‘bout, Hexxy.” She lifted her hand from the paper, over to the potion, which continued to swirl into its now purple hue, before moving towards the door. Her head peered back as she approached, and pushed it open with her free hand. “I’m headed over to their estate if you wish to join, perhaps we could press them on this girlie you ran into?”

“No- It’s okay…” Hexxy retorted, not only because he didn’t want to come face to face with the two from last night, but because he needed to check on the cockatrice’s nest as soon as possible. There were eggs left, last he checked; When he accidentally spooked the decrepit mama, and was forced to run! He wanted to check on them on his way home, but feared he’d be caught up in something he couldn’t quite handle in that state. Now that he was rested, and patched up though, it was high time he head off. “Go enjoy yourself, feel free to take the cockatrice eyes I brought ya- and… BE careful.”

Uthwix gave him a knowing look, before responding with a maniacal little giggle, as she ruffled through his satchel bag, and slipped through the door like a goblin! Vials in hand, and a pep to her step. Hexlith watched with soft eyes, as the door swung back and fro in his sister's egress. Which left him to sit and sulk in his failures, and plot… for what’s to come.