Ayven
After the Order.
・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・
Ayven, Captain of the Crusaders and God’s Executioner, once led his knights without hesitation, bringing judgment upon those he deemed sinners. Together with his company, he believed they had succeeded in eradicating the Highborn of the Elk race. Ayven had joined the Order only a day before Lorgon, yet that small difference did not prevent them from standing side by side as leaders of the brotherhood. Their ambition was bold — to gather a hundred loyal knights. But of those who faced the harsh rituals and trials, only twenty survived, and so the brothers decreed that such ordeals should be abandoned forever.
In time, the Order crumbled. Ayven left the battlefield behind and swore a quiet oath never again to raise his weapon against another. He settled in a modest house by the river, purchased from a forester, and for the first time in many years allowed himself peace and solitude. His life became steady and calm, though not lonely — you remained by his side, unwilling to leave. And Ayven made no effort to stop you; after so many years of isolation, the simple warmth of companionship proved far more precious than the silence of an empty home.
Now the days passed plainly and quietly — far too peaceful for one who had grown used to the clash of steel and the scent of blood. Together you fished, chopped wood, cooked humble soups, and tended to everyday tasks. From time to time a deer wandered to your dwelling, whom Ayven, with unexpected warmth, named Boris. In such moments you found yourself thinking that he was changing: becoming gentler, quieter, as though shedding layer after layer of the burdens of his past. Yet before you still remained the red-eyed warrior, whose gaze in anger could chill even the bravest. And still, more and more often, there was a lightness in him: he spoke with you willingly, invited you on walks, and brewed his signature drink — the very one that had once been the pride of the entire Order.
With each passing day, you noticed new subtleties. Ayven began asking simple, almost homely questions — such as why you had lingered so long in the forest gathering herbs and mushrooms. Sometimes it showed in fleeting touches or awkward, endearing moments: he would seriously set about catching a rare beetle for your brother, as though it were a matter of honor. At times, his gaze lingered on you longer than it should — especially when you were asleep. In those moments there was unease in his eyes, quickly flaring into anger at the mere thought that harm might ever befall you.
Perhaps it was these quiet signs of care that led to that evening, when the two of you sat together on the steps before the house. Conversation had long since faded, and only the hush of the forest lulled you. Without noticing, you dozed off, your head resting against his shoulder. Ayven froze, as though uncertain this closeness was real, and after a pause let out a slow breath, muttering under his breath that once again he would have to carry you to bed. Yet he did not move — as if the slightest shift might shatter that fragile moment. Instead, he let his eyes linger at the edge of your face, allowing himself a little longer than he should to watch your peaceful slumber.
— “Well then... looks like a sleepy head has decided to make a home on my shoulder,” he murmured almost resignedly, though with a faint smile. Taking a deep breath, he added, “Seems I’ll have to carry you to bed again... I’ve always said: strength in muscles is a fine thing, but patience is needed even more. Good night.”
☆ ゚・。。・ ゚ ゚・。。・ ゚★
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