Chapter Text
Ugh. My head is killing me. Did Mara convince me to raid the wine cellar again?
Wanting to sleep off the headache, I keep my eyes closed. But then the ringing in my ear fades enough to hear someone in the room talking.
“...were you thinking?!”
A low and sharp voice comes from my left. It sounds male.
“Look, Talyn, we all knew the risks. She chose to-”
A deep female voice this time, a little farther away. At that, I try to open my eyes and see where the voices were coming from, but my lids feel like lead.
“Fuck that!” The male voice, Talyn, seems to have dropped all attempts to speak quietly. “We should've stopped her! We should've-”
What in the six hells did I do while I was drunk?
“Reaver, you know as well as I do that she would have found a way to do it, with or without us,” a second male voice cuts him off firmly. Not quite harsh, but not placating either. Tense.
“This is all my fault,” a second female voice, softer than the first, mutters from my right. “I couldn't hold my ground when-”
“Niel, don't you dare blame yourself,” Female Voice 1 scolds her. The frustration has an undercurrent of sadness.
“Yeah,” a third male voice, somewhat calmer but definitely somber, chimes in, “If you're going to blame anyone, blame the Flamekeeper.”
Flamekeeper? There goes my hangover theory.
The second woman, Niel, starts crying. The sound tugs something in my chest. I double my efforts to open my eyes, but they remain inert. I then hear fabric rustling. Niel speaks through her soft sobs.
“I know, I just…I was the only person there. I could have done something, couldn't I?”
“You'll only make yourself miserable with that line of thinking, Niel,” a third female voice, the gentlest of them all, soothes. “Sable wouldn't want you to beat yourself up.”
I don't know who Niel is or what she did, but I can't bear to hear her cry anymore.
After immense effort, I finally manage to pry my eyes open.
I regret it immediately.
The lights are too bright, and all the colors are swimming. I screw my eyes shut again. A weary groan rumbles in my throat.
“Sable!” Male Voice 2 gasps.
“Sable, are you awake?” Male Voice 3 asks.
A warm, calloused hand grasps mine. I daredto open my eyes again. The light still sears my retinas, but I will my vision to focus.
“Thank the Shapers!” Female Voice 3 exclaims.
I look in her direction. My vision clears enough to see her golden tresses and soft features. I blink a couple of times, trying to get a better look. The image finally crystallizes. Female Voice 3 has a natural glow about her, her cheeks a perfect rosy hue. Her eyes are the brightest green I have ever seen.
Shapers' breath, she's beautiful.
“How are you feeling?” Niel asks.
I slowly looked over to her.
Holy shit…
She’s also stunning. Even though her eyes are bloodshot from crying, they hold a warmth that make me melt a little. The scar that slit her eyebrow is unfairly hot. Silky black hair flows over the shawl wrapped around her shoulders. Her collar bones are prominent and oh so kissable…
Keep it in your pants, Sable!
I decide to try distracting myself by finding the owner of the hand that was holding mine captive. The hand in mine is large and a gorgeous shade of dark brown. My gaze follows the arm attached to it up to the owner's face. He has a jawline that could cut diamonds but eyes that sing of safety. His round glasses only serve to magnify how comforting they are.
If only Mara could see who was holding my hand…
“Sable, you can hear us, right?” Male Voices 2 asks, worried.
I drag my gaze over to where the voice is coming fr-
Spellfyre, kill me-
He’s breathtaking. His crisp white shirt is partially unbuttoned, displaying a deliciously smooth and toned chest. His sharp features starkly contrast the soft white hair that sweeps across his head. His eyes are a piercing blue and, right now, laced with a grief that I wish I could smooth away.
“Damnit, Sable, say something!” Female Voice 1 huffs.
I inhale as I turn my head toward her, preparing to respond, only to be rendered speechless. Everything about this woman exudes strength. Prominent cheekbones support siren eyes that stare me down with righteous fury. They are a shade of dark amber that almost looks like fire, which matches the red that climbs up her hair in streaks. Her arms are covered in tattoos, some of them glowing.
Judging by her shoulders, she could mess me up big time. And I would thank her for it.
While I gape at Step-On-Me-Mommy, a hand gently touches my shoulder. I turn to see who it is.
You've got to be kidding me! He can't be hot too!
But alas, this guy is smoking. A badass scar runs over his eye. His brows are domineering. His slightly cleft chin is covered in a grizzly 5 o’clock shadow that I couldn't help but imagine rubbing along my skin. Tattoos peek out from under his sleeve. I spot the end of the ink at the the crux between his neck and shoulder, both of which were thick with muscle. And-
Damn, if I thought Male Voice 2 had a toned chest…
If my mouth didn't feel like it were stuffed with cotton, I'd definitely be drooling by now.
“...you there?” the guy who I recognize as Male Voice 1 -- Talyn, was it? -- was saying something.
Crap, I wasn't paying attention.
“Ember?” Probably-Talyn tries again.
What?
Finally getting my tongue to cooperate, I rasp out:
“Who in the six hells is Ember?”
⁺₊✧☠︎︎ꄗ𓂀☼ঌ♡✧₊⁺
The room burst into chaos.
The hand that has gently blanketed my shoulder jerks back as though it had been burned. All the questions and exclamations and panicked faces only serve to make my head pound louder.
“All of you, kindly do shut up,” I croak as loudly as I could manage.
The six living thirst traps promptly stop.
“What…happened?” I ask.
Glasses Man, who is still holding my hand, warily responds, “How much do you remember?”
“Nothing that explains how I got here or who you all are.”
“Let me try something different…” he says. “Do you at least know where ‘here’ is?”
I look around the room. Nothing is familiar in the slightest. I start to shake my head before deciding that that hurts worse than speaking.
“No.”
The faces around me frown.
“What's your name?” Glasses asks.
“Sable Dreadbane.”
White Hair mutters, “At least there's that.”
Glasses continues, “How old are you?”
“18- no, 19. Today…yesterday? Is or was my nameday,” I reply. I feel my voice begin to return to normal, thank the Shapers. “Everything is rather fuzzy, but I remember Mara sneaking me out of Wysteria Manor. After that…it's a blur.”
Niel and Blonde Beauty exchange glances. Probably-Talyn runs a hand through his impossibly fluffy hair.
Blonde Beauty speaks up, “Should we tell Windworn?”
The other five say, “No,” in unison.
“Professor Nightrun could probably help. She gave Sable the potion, after all, didn't she?” Step-On-Me-Mommy says.
Professor? I must be in a college of some sort.
“I’ll go get her,” Niel says and rushes off.
I ignore the disappointment that tugs on the corners of my mouth when Niel leaves the room. I turn back to the group.
“Who are you all?” I ask simply.
White Hair clears his throat. The look on his face makes my chest pang.
“Sable, do you…” he started, “Do you really not remember us?”
“I'd definitely remember a face like yours if I knew it~” The words leave my mouth before I can think.
…So maybe I’m flirting with White Hair a little. It helps distract me from my headache! I also hope it'll ease the tension in his expression. Judging by the pink that began to dust his cheeks, it’s working.
Emboldened, I double down, “Perhaps you could…jog my memory?”
I toss in a wink for good measure.
“What? I- You-” White Hair stammers, flustered.
(While I study his reaction, I vaguely register a whispered conversation and an exchange of coins:
“Damnit, Cato. How'd you know? I could’ve sworn it'd be Dessa first!”
“Statistics. Now hand it over Leona.”)
“Emb- I mean, Sable,” Probably-Talyn begins, “why don't we introduce ourselves while we wait?”
Something in his tone makes me unbelievably sad. I wish I could remember these Shaper-touched beauties. Clearly, I mean something to all of them. I’m determined to make Probably-Talyn feel better.
“By all means,” I lilt (as best as I can in my state), “I'd love to get to know you~”
That earns me a raised brow.
(I once again make out whispers:
“Two for two! Give it here!” Cato(?) celebrates.
I then hear an annoyed huff. Probably from Leona(?).)
Probably-Talyn motions to himself. I take this as permission to check him out again.
“I'm Talyn.”
“That's it? Nothing else about you?” I probe.
I try to give Definitely-Talyn an intimidating stare.
He just smirks and shrugs, “For now.”
“I'm Bardric Arkland,” White Hair says cautiously.
“Iridessa Brightsage,” Blonde Beauty smiles softly at me.
By the Shapers, I'd kill for that smile.
“Cato Fairscribe, at your service,” Glasses says.
I note disappointedly that he is no longer holding my hand.
“Leona Goldenspire,” Step-On-Me-Mommy gives a mock bow.
“And how do you know me?” I ask them all.
Please tell me I'm dating one of them.
Leona starts, “We're your-”
“Housemates,” Talyn cuts her off.
Talyn and Leona exchange odd glances. Before I can press further, the door opens.
“Here comes our very own Niel Shieldsong,” Cato announces.