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The other guy whipped around toward him, brandishing a hilt. A hilt with no blade. I’m so intimidated. Alessio thought blankly, his hand instinctively sliding to his knife. But the Armer Guy seemed to rethink and removed his helmet.

He did look a little less intimidating when they could see his face. A little less.

But Alessio was busy staring at Leana, his mind still trying to wrap around the fact that she was Nithel’s daughter. Not even to mention the fact that they were about the same age and…

“Would you please tell me what this place is if you know?” Armer Guy asked

“Uhh, I don’t know, sir, ask the Drama Queen.” Alessio said vaguely, motioning toward Arsene. Actually, at the exact same time Leana answered. He started – even jumpier than usual, with absolutely no clue what he should do.

Then she turned to him , her starry blue eyes anxious, questioning. There was a depth, an intensity there, that left no doubt she was related to Nithel.

“You know my father, sir?” She asked, softly.

Sir Scary tensed beside him – Alessio darted a glance at him just as something black hovered on Sir Scary’s arm before flickering out hastily. Oh devils oh devils oh devils he’s going to die oh devils-

“You – He is alive, isn’t he? When was the last time you saw him? Was my brother with him?”

“He’s alive,” Alessio stammered. “We were both lost…wherever here is…”

How do you explain the last time he saw Nithel was at a bank robbery where he accidentally saved Arsene who accidentally kidnapped him and the building blew up but he’s pretty sure Nithel’s ok…ish…

Yeah just stick with they were both lost.

There’s very faint music coming from Sir Scary…Alessio darted another nervous glance at him which communicated both an ‘Are you ok?’ and ‘Please don’t kill me’.

“I don’t know where he is now but I’m looking of him too –“ And her last question…

“Your brother wasn’t with…” His voice broke off a little and he looked away for a second. He swallowed and stared at her wide, questioning eyes. “…I’m so…so sorry. I…”

What am I supposed to say? How am I supposed to tell her…?

The least you can do is look her the eyes.

Alessio bit his lip, and swallowed again.

“From…in all likelihood he’s…” He struggled to hold her gaze but he forced himself to do it, and tried again, very softly. “As far as I know he died in battle.”

That was very optimistic, as far as he knew her brother was half dead in some torture chamber. But he didn’t want to tell her that.

Nithel had said he was thirteen.

Alessio racked his brain for some words of comfort, some way to console her, but he couldn’t think of anything.

“I’m so so sorry…” There had to be something he could say, or do, or…? What would Nithel have done? He would’ve held her – but Alessio can’t do that!? Maybe he should touch her shoulder reassuringly, he made a motion to do that but faltered. “I…I’m so sorry…”

 

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