Page 117 of Set in Darkness
“Fair enough. Would you like a drink?”
Leander nodded and Verin approached the drinkscabinet and poured two exceedingly generous drams of whisky. He handed one over and took a swig of his own.
The demigod stared at his own tumbler of whisky but did not take a sip.
Ordinarily, Leander would drink until he would be skirting the boundary between drunk and obliterated.
He couldn’t bring himself to do that today.
“How are you doing?” Verin asked softly.
“What do you mean?”
Verin rolled his eyes and sighed, a long-suffering sound. “You were almost killed a mere fortnight ago. That is not something I expect you to just bounce back from. How are you doing?”
“Sometimes words can be more barbed, more detrimental to a person’s health than a physical attack,” Leander muttered bitterly. If he had to tot up all the bad things that had happened to him in the past year, his failed relationships with people would top the list, not any fear of pain or death.
“Yes, but you just said you didn’t want to talk about that. So let’s talk about this instead.” Verin sat down in one of the plush chairs in the room and gestured for Leander to do the same across from him.
“Okay. The bottom line is that I wasn’t killed. And even if I had met my end on that night, what does it matter? It happens to all of us at some point or another. Death is the only thing we can all expect.” He didn’t verbalise that sometimes he wished the end had come to him, better that than deal with this turmoil.
“Yes, we all can expect it, but not an untimely one. Death is the only thing every creature in existence shares,and our lives are ruled by our fear of it, for ourselves and our loved ones. You know that fear only too well, I’d wager.”
Leander made a noncommittal sound, agreeing but not really wanting to talk about his narrow escape from death either. He would process it soon, and no doubt with Verin, but not today.
“You don’t know what you’re living for until you know what you would die for,” Verin continued, eyeing his brother with evident concern etched onto his features.
Another vague noise escaped Leander.
“Why have you come here, then?”
“…What?” Leander had heard Verin perfectly well. Ordinarily, he would have undoubtedly skewered Leander for making him do something as inefficient as repeat himself. But how by the Nine was Leander supposed to begin to answer his question, even one as simple on the surface as the one he had posed?
“I needed to get away from the silence of Jarryn’s rooms and the subsequent loudness in my mind.”
Verin nodded his understanding.
“I turned Taskevi’s offer down two weeks ago and I can’t help but think that I made the wrong decision. What am I doing here, Verin?”
“Righting wrongs is what I believe you said.”
“And I’m failing.”
“Jarryn will come around. He just needs time,” Verin said softly, a frown creasing his forehead. Leander was well aware his brother was using Aesthesia to feel his pain. “I can help, if you want.”
“No, I deserve this.”
“You would do well to disavow yourself of your self-loathing and masochistic tendencies, Leo. As I told you before, there is no cosmic reinforcement for our actions.”
“How would you know? Are you a god? Do you know what we do or do not care about?”
Verin smiled at Leander’s retaliation. “No, I am not.”
The pair stared at each other, until Leander finally spoke. “My personal life aside, I meant what I said about fixing my mistakes. This is bigger than just Jarryn and me. What do you need me to do?”
Verin placed his tumbler of whisky on the table and, leaning towards Leander, examined him both visually and Aesthesically, verifying the truth of his statement. “Are you certain?”
Leander didn’t even hesitate before he nodded forcefully.
“Good. Follow me.”
