Lounging on the fat chair facing the sky, Mok peered at the bright blue sky. Painted ribbons of white clouds spanned the horizon. A storm was building up. It was rolling in from the north and the east. Strange. The myrian wasn't that accustomed to the weather patterns of Sunberth yet, but this was strange. It didn't matter. A light sprinkle would damper only his cloak, but not his spirit.
Opening the bottle of dark whiskey, Mok focused on Zandelia who followed immediately behind him and took her place at the balcony. Hooking his finger around the handle the myrian propped it on his shoulder and took a long draught from the alcohol. Chugging it like a champ, the myrian slowly put down the bottle and licked his lips. Delicious. The myrian was barely phased by it.
Intently listening to Zandelia's words Mok took each and every sentence into consideration. The myrian was not quick to judge when it came to his own family. His team mate looked like an old veteran and it showed through the haggled reflection of her face and eyes. She spoke of the debaucheries city known as Sunberth under her breath before beginning. This confused Mok. He was hearing her clearly, but he couldn't believe it. He loved this place. Here was his family.
Next she spoke of Mura. Her face bleeding of turgid bitterness. She had not let go of her dreams yet. The konti did not accept her, they rejected her. She sought the light, but found only darkness. In a way she was just like Mok. The only difference was that the myrian embraced it. The darkness in his heart fueled his actions. It allowed him not only to survive, but to prosper. Zandelia needed to use the darkness in her heart to inflict pain on her enemies, not on herself. This attitude would eat her up.
Mok would say nothing yet. He couldn't just come out and tell her off. The myrian had no right to tell his Crimson sister what was right and wrong. She had her own free will. The half-blood’s minds trailed off as Zandelia finished her story.
Zandelia had only found disappear and failure in Mura. Her mind and soul where now adrift. Mok needed to put an end to that. After waiting in awkward silence for a few moments, the myrian listened as Lessira broke the tension with a small assuming question: What is Mura?
Without turning towards the Konti sitting next to him, Mok mumbled,
"It is the land of the Konti..." Waiting until the conversation halted again, the myrian capitalized and finally stood up and said his part,
"Zandelia...You are no longer adrift. You have found your way home! This is your family, Zandelia; we the Crimson are your brothers and sisters. We may not be able to heal your past," now Mok began to waive his right arm over the city,
"But we got your back until the bitter end. And you know that! We will fight side by side until the BITTER END! Now drink!"Taking his flagon over to Zandelia he forced the handle into her hand,
"Zandelia today forget about your worries. Promise me?" Looking his team mate eye to eye, Mok waited for a response,
"Tonight we are getting loaded! It will take your mind off this stress alright?"Taking the pulp out of his pocket, Mok yelled,
"Ya here yet Cade? Cade? Sally! Bring me a singing kettle and some cups! I'm tipping if you come fast!""Right away Mok!" she yelled back at him.
~~~~~
9:58 AM
It was time now. The myrian sat in a close circle with his friends now. He had boiled the pulp down into a thick tea. Pouring each member of the group a cup of pulp tea, the myrian drained the whole kettle. Turning the device over, he scrapped the wet residue of pulp and placed it in a small black pile.
The scene had changed dramatically though. Wind was blowing through the curtains and the sky was almost completely black. The temperature was still mild, though. The myrian just shrugged though. Looked like a storm had suddenly arisen. No matter.
Mok raised his glass,
"Lets do this." Red = Myrian
Bold = Common