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Niarok

“I’m a doctor. I didn’t mean to stare. I’m sorry. Although if you ever want to tell me how you got them, I’d be happy to hear the story.”

Liorah looked entirely taken aback by Niarok’s answer, as if she’d expected a death threat or a challenge. But then she shrugged and grinned.

“There’s not much to tell, it was Aydin’s girlfriend– I mean his ex.”

She snickered.

Niarok’s gaze snapped back up to meet Liorah’s. Aydin’s… ex? Okay, well… that was something interesting.

Liorah raised an eyebrow.

No, I don’t know anything about this. And I’d prefer if you didn’t tell me. Unless it has to do with you.

Liorah pulled up her right sleeve to reveal a thicket of scars. Niarok resisted the urge to wince. He had about that many scars in various places on his body, too. There was a huge scar that ran from her wrist to her sleeve, crossed down the middle by three concentric circles. Those didn’t look like battle wounds…

“And some of the others were his friends, or his father, or his King, or a second-cousin twice removed or who even knows.”

She rubbed the mark. Like she was trying to shove down bad memories. Niarok’s heart broke.

Another person like him.

“I don’t think he gave me any himself but that’s not his fault,” Liorah finished, a look of keen satisfaction settling across her face. Soooo…

Maybe she’d given him some herself?

“I thought you were friends,” Niarok muttered. He had a feeling there was something akin to horror on his face, but he didn’t care. No wonder Aydin was traumatized. He had an ex, a violent family, and a friend that did… this? Oh, and he used to be an assassin.

Liorah blinked in confusion. “Of course we are.”

Ironic humor bubbled up in Niarok’s throat and he barely suppressed the laugh. “Are all your friends like that?” he choked. Wow. No wonder the world in general was traumatized. Of course, Niarok had plenty of friends like that…

“Oh, he wasn’t my friend then. Family feud, sins of the fathers, so on and so forth,” Liorah gestured at some sort of distant memory. “And he was being a real idiot about it too.”

Niarok couldn’t decide whether to laugh outright or just kind of… die right there. On the floor.

Liorah grinned. “He didn’t tell you?” She asked, clearly taking a serious amount of delight in this whole thing.

Niarok shook his head slowly, noticing the flash of pain beneath Liorah’s humor.

She was trying to make light of an incredibly traumatizing situation that had probably eternally ruined her self-esteem.

Niarok’s heart sank. Why? Literally why was the world like this?

He couldn’t figure out how to tell Liorah he cared and he understood without it coming across like he was just violently tearing down her walls to issue a challenge.

Maybe another time?

A crashing noise and a groan distracted Niarok and his hand went to his sword.

A man with short black hair and dark skin was sprawled across the floor, apparently having fallen out of the ceiling.

Liorah was looking between him and the roof, confusion written all over her face. Niarok suppressed another chortle.

Ah, and he possessed that strain too. Laugh, or cry. Better to laugh.

“Is everyone in this entire place trying to give me a heart attack or is that just a bonus?” Liorah intoned, her voice a razor edge of sarcasm.

Niarok gave her a sideways glance of sympathy.

“Hello? Do you know where I am?” the new ceiling flopper asked, his voice soft and dubious.

Yila marched straight up to him.

“Yes, I do,” she snapped, all the trauma coming through in her strained voice – which to everyone else probably sounded like the most unstrained thing they’d ever heard. Niarok resisted the sigh. “You’re in a hellhole of an evil omniscient castle, stuck here with the rest of us. Welcome in.”

Okay, but no need to traumatize him…

Liorah snickered. She clearly liked Yila.

Great.

Niarok had a feeling he was going to be dressing quite a few wounds in the near future.

“Oh, don’t worry. The rest of them are a bit more decent than me,” Yila continued, jerking her chin at Niarok. He sighed. “I’m just the gatekeeper.”

Liorah laughed. “Speak for yourself, love,” she said through laughs, grinning.

Niarok couldn’t help the tiny little smile that turned his lip up. If Liorah and Yila could just refrain from killing each other, they could make a great team.

“I’ll only kill you if you try to hurt me or one of them,” Yila said.

“Okay?” the man said uncertainly. He held up his hands. “I won’t hurt anyone unless it’s absolutely necessary. Besides, I’m unarmed.”

Niarok looked at his face.

He was telling the truth, and Niarok trusted him.

He also wasn’t an assassin.

Good. At least someone here wasn’t a wrecked mess.

“I hope you will keep your word for your sake,” Yila spat.

She was wrestling with her demons.

Niarok grimaced.

“Very dramatic,” the man muttered.

Niarok snorted.

That was one description for Yila he’d never heard, but it was… accurate. Very accurate.

And Liorah was snorting again. Then laughing. Hard. Almost hysterically.

Niarok couldn’t decide whether to grin or laugh.

Lorcan passed her, and she immediately stopped laughing to glare at him. They clearly had history.

He didn’t look at her, and that seemed to incense her greatly.

Lorcan hummed a melody as he passed, and Liorah’s face carried enough mocking sarcasm to down a grown man.

Niarok chuckled under his breath.

Mostly because Yila and Lorcan were having a moment.

At least someone else in here was being nice to his sister. She needed friends.

He grinned, shook his head, and watched the new guy.

He was favoring his right leg ( @inkhorn it was his right leg, right? Or was it both? I can’t remember lol) as he sat down against the wall, scanning the crowd and clearly coming to the uncomfortable conclusion that just about everyone in here was capable of killing him. Niarok sighed.

What a group they were.

Evie walked up to the man, and Niarok decided to wait a bit before talking to him so he didn’t overcrowd him.