Suikoden III: Tabularasa ~ The Pieces of You, chapter 6, 13+
Disclaimer: Suikoden III doesn’t belong to me. The only things that presently belong to me are this laptop, a big dose of writer’s block, and a load of frustration. *sighs*
Started: July 20, 2004
Finished: September 20, 2004
Revised: July 18, 2005
“Tabularasa ~ The Pieces of You”
Chapter 6: Demon’s Game
He could very well be the closest person to me, and I don’t remember him at all.
For some reason, the thought struck Albert hard as he sat down with Caesar in the bar. The younger boy was staring at his hands, his tears wiped away and his face slowly sinking into a more composed expression. There was a silence that hung between them for several minutes, as the initial contact had been made and neither really had any idea what to do.
“… How do we do this?” Albert inquired, tilting his head slightly and gazing at Caesar.
“Hell if I know,” Caesar replied, lifting his hands to rub his temples. “I was kinda hoping you’d know.” Since you’ve always known what to do in the past.
Albert watched the younger redhead carefully, unsure of how to approach the situation. He wondered how awkward everything was for the other boy, especially if what Apple had said was true and they had fought in the past. Although hesitant, he managed to clear his throat and speak again. “Well… I suppose we should start with the basics.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, unaware of the look that Caesar aimed at him.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you tapping your chin like that,” he reflected with a slight frown. “After Soledt, you just … heh, you just stopped showing outward signs of thinking.”
Albert blinked at the strange remark, brows furrowing slightly. “Why would I do that?”
Caesar snorted in something between indifference and amusement. “I really don’t know. We didn’t talk very much once you came home from school. And then you left to go back to Harmonia less than a year after graduating… We never really had a chance to talk after that.”
Harmonia? The name struck a chord of recognition in Albert, and he tilted his head back slightly as his thoughts churned.
Pristine tiles and lush carpets decorated the often-walked paths, archaic tapestries lining the walls and giving the structure an atmosphere of history and magic. There were many scholars here, as well as government officials. From the second story, they appeared as dots of blue and black, traveling slowly across the floor towards destinations hidden by the numerous bookshelves.
His gaze focused on the sigil embedded on the floor of the great library. Black and gold against the marble floors, every inch of the seal spoke of feral magnificence that went beyond the span of mortal knowledge.
“Such a peaceful prison for a wild beast.”
That’s enough.
“… What did you just say?” Caesar inquired, staring across the table at his older brother.
The look Albert returned was quizzical at best. “Say? I didn’t say anything.”
Caesar grimaced at the uncharacteristic confusion on the other’s face, straightening in his seat as he spoke. “You said ‘Such a peaceful prison for a wild beast,’ Albert.”
“Did I? I don’t remember saying that…”
Instead of gawking, as was his initial reaction, Caesar clenched his jaw in frustration at the vague reply. “How can you forget something you just said?” he demanded. “Don’t tell me you can’t even retain thoughts anymore.”
There was another awkward silence that stretched between the two for several moments. They engaged in a staring contest not unlike those that they would when they were much younger, as they were never allowed to fight physically due to their age differences. Caesar fleetingly recalled always stomping off after those staring contests, because he could never best his unflinching brother no matter how angry he got.
That was why he blinked hard when Albert lowered his gaze only after several seconds.
“It’s not as if I can explain it,” Albert said, clearing his throat uneasily. “Lady Sana has said that I forget too easily, and even Miss Apple was shocked. I take it that this isn’t normal for me at all, is it?”
How do you tell someone that they’re the exact opposite of the way they’re presently acting? Caesar brooded, cupping his chin with one hand and sighing raggedly. “So what’s the point in telling you anything at all?” he inquired, unable to keep a tinge of annoyance from his voice. “If you won’t remember it five seconds later, what’s the point?”
As he reflected upon it, Caesar realized that he had been unable to take this sort of tone with Albert for several years. After returning from Soledt, Albert’s goals became career-driven and his wit gained a caustic edge that scared him away from confrontations. Although he had become a moody teenager by that time, he hated arguing with his brother and getting into fights over strategy and Silverberg duty.
Besides, Apple was around by then, and she always made sure to knock him over the head for fighting with Albert.
Runes, I can’t just give up on him like that. I want him to remember these things, too…
“… What’s on your mind now?” asked the older Silverberg, noticing the weak smile on the younger’s face.
“Just remembering something,” Caesar answered, his resolve strengthened by the memories. “I know this is going to be tough, but I’m gonna try my very best to be patient with you.” He watched Albert smile slightly at his words and nod encouragingly.
“Your name is Albert Silverberg, and you’re my older brother. We weren’t exactly the best of brothers by the time you left, but you took care of me…”
* * * * *
There was a fine mist that threaded through Kuput Forest, obscuring the path that the Harmonian entourage would have to follow towards Chisha. Sasarai had thought it the best way to approach the village, considering the uproar that had been caused the last time Mantors had shown up around Chisha. The Mantor riders dropped off their passengers in one of the few clearings that existed in the dense forest before taking their leave again, flying back towards Le Buque against the noonday sun.
By Nash’s estimation, the journey through the forest would take no more than two hours. The four men walked with few words between them, Nash leading and Clive bringing up the rear.
Sasarai found himself missing the comforts of a battle steed. Although horses could be bothersome and far too smelly for his tastes, they made traveling long distances less daunting. He tried not to think too hard about what they would face at their destination, knowing that questioning Grasslanders about an exiled Harmonian officer would be awkward at the very least.
The bishop stiffened when he felt Dios’ hand come to rest on his shoulder, looking back at the taller man in warily. He turned completely when he noticed Clive spying the treetops, frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low.
“We have company,” the Howling Voice Guild Master muttered, unslinging Sturm and quickly realigning his aim to where his eyes had been focused only moments before.
Upon seeing Clive draw his rifle, Sasarai tensed and stepped towards the cloaked man in alarm. “No, don’t--!”
Thunderous noise tore through the forest, and Sasarai winced at the unfamiliar sound of a gun going off. The flutter of wings told him that he was not the only one surprised by the sound, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
Nash scowled as he strode back to join the other men, his blue-eyed gaze on Clive. “Have you forgotten that we’re not supposed draw attention to ourselves? If there are Alma Kinan patrols around, I’m sure they would have heard that.”
There was a disembodied chuckle from above. “I suppose the Gunner has good reason to be shooting at me.”
The three blondes reached for their weapons as a figure dropped out of the trees, Dios and Nash taking a position in front of Sasarai as they recognized the tall figure clad almost entirely in black. “You…,” muttered Nash, one hand hesitantly coming to rest on one of his snake swords.
“He’s been watching us for awhile; I couldn’t pinpoint him until he was almost on top of us,” Clive hissed, expertly reloading his gun and taking aim.
Sasarai thrust up a hand to stop the Gunner, his face hardened as he stared at the notorious figure. “Yuber… What are you doing here?”
Yuber shrugged, although the action was almost lost due to the fact that he still had Albert’s coat slung over his shoulders. “I could ask the same, ‘rune container,’” he taunted, taking pleasure in the grimace that crossed the bishop’s face.
Dios came to his superior’s rescue when he saw him falter at the insult. He took notice of the familiar coat that the demon carried as he spoke. “Are you an emissary of Albert Silverberg again?”
The knight raised a brow before remembering the additional weight he was carrying, nonchalantly sliding the coat off of his shoulders and holding it in front of him like an infested rug. “What, are you referring to this? What does it matter to you?”
Dios fell silent as he saw Sasarai prepare to speak again. “We are looking for your former … employer.” There was no way to properly gauge the mixture of anger and loathing that crossed the bishop’s face; the barely-bridled emotions were far too intense to define.
“Such an elite little killing group; you all reek of blood,” remarked the demon, mismatched eyes gleaming maliciously beneath the visor of his hat. “If I didn’t know better, I would say this is a manhunt.”
Sasarai continued to speak for the group, his eyes growing colder as he recalled more of the demon’s actions during the last war. “And why would it matter to you if it is?”
A broad, eerie smile crossed the blonde’s face at the question, and he met Sasarai’s gaze as he spoke. “Because I know where your man is.”
* * * * *
Caesar splashed cold water onto his face, rubbing at the streams that gathered along the curves of his chin. After explaining their relationship and summarizing the majority of their shared lives to Albert, he had excused himself from the table and gone to wash his face and gather his thoughts. Knowing Albert, he would probably be taking his time in absorbing the amount of information that had just been crammed into his head.
I don’t think I could have handled staring at those blank eyes any longer.
Throughout the entire time he had been talking to Albert, Caesar was trapped within the horrible idea that nothing he said would actually stay in his amnesic brother’s head. The unfamiliar look of confusion that continued to cloud Albert’s face unnerved Caesar, and he quietly congratulated himself for being able to sit still for as long as he did.
“It must frustrate you that I still don’t remember anything.”
He tensed and averted his eyes, seeing Albert standing at the doorway with his arms crossed. Burying his hands in his jacket pockets, the younger Silverberg turned completely to acknowledge him. “Yeah, it does. But I’m not going to give up until I’ve exhausted all my options.”
“Sounds like something a tactician would say.” The elder smiled briefly as he recalled that piece of information.
“Yeah, well, our family is known for producing some of the most renowned strategists. ‘There’s a Silverberg behind every great war’ … or something along those lines.”
Albert’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Who said that?”
“… I don’t know who originally said it, but Grandfather Leon said it from time to time.”
Leon Silverberg.
Sunlight through windows, over tiles…
A man stood over him, his aged eyes resting on six figures standing on the other side of the room. The man -- Leon -- removed a glove and produced a knife from his long coat, bringing it to his wrist… He allowed the blood to flow from his wrist and, drip from his outstretched arm and onto … him…
Give me your blood.
Feed me with your life.
Catalyst to my summon…
An unearthly howl resounded throughout the hall.
“Albert?”
He shook his head, his attention returning to the present. “Yes?”
“You zoned out again.” Caesar paused thoughtfully. “Did you forget what you were thinking about?”
Albert shook his head again, raising his hands to rub at his temples. “No, though it’s all rather hazy, to say the least. Tell me more about … Grandfather Leon.”
So he remembers Grandfather, but not me? Scratching his head and trying to hide his disappointment, Caesar sighed. “All right. Where should I begin?”
They walked back to the table together, where Albert waited for Caesar to seat himself before speaking. “Did he cut himself at all? Slash his wrist or something like that?”
Caesar stared at Albert for a good few moments, speechless. When he finally opened his mouth to reply, he could not help but stutter. “… How do you remember something like that?”
“It came to mind as soon as you mentioned him.” He shrugged helplessly. “From your reaction, I take it that he did?”
Nodding in affirmation, Caesar explained, “Grandfather got it during his service to Highland during the Dunan Unification War. He never went into great detail about how he ended up getting the scar.”
“Highland?” Something about the name stirred memories in the older Silverberg’s mind.
“Yeah… A kingdom far north of Toran; its last ruler was Jowy Blight.”
Jowy Blight?
He wasn’t the important one.
The wild eyes and wild hair of a madman driven over the edge by some agony that he does not talk about freely. His laughter resounded with every destructive desire that he wished upon the earth as the very air lurches. He smiled psychotically, his gaze resting on something rising above him…
The screams of thousands flooded his ears.
“Luca Blight.” Albert lowered his head, trying to shake the nightmarish images from his memory. Ironically, the only thoughts that came to mind were ones that he did not want to keep. “That’s where the name came from…”
Caesar watched his brother uneasily. Why does he know about that and not anything pertaining to himself? “I don’t get it, Albert. Luca Blight died sixteen years ago, hundreds of miles from where we lived; why do you remember something like that? More importantly, why would something like that come more easily than thoughts of, say, Harmonia and our family?”
Harmonia again… Something in the back of Albert’s mind clung onto that name again and would not let go of it.
And then his head began to ache again. Unlike times in the past, his headache was accompanied by a sickening churn in his stomach. Urgency. A feeling that he needed to run away.
He pushed himself up and to his feet, meeting Caesar’s confused gaze for a moment. “I … need to get some air. I’ll be right back.” The young man felt as if he was suffocating on the strange urge, stumbling away from his chair before regaining his composure. Not bothering to look if Caesar was following him, Albert strode out of the underground tavern and up onto the grass. The sun had already dipped from its highest point in the sky; only a few more hours and the sun would disappear completely, replaced by the black canvas of night.
Even breathing in the fresh air was not helping much; his headache refused to diminish, steadily becoming more bothersome. He shifted uneasily, his muscles tense and ready to react at the slightest disturbance.
That was why he started quite violently to a hand falling lightly on his shoulder, and he jerked away to stare at whoever had grabbed him from behind.
A dark smirk and feral, mismatched eyes greeted him. “It’s been awhile, Silverberg.”
Started: July 20, 2004
Finished: September 20, 2004
Revised: July 18, 2005
“Tabularasa ~ The Pieces of You”
Chapter 6: Demon’s Game
He could very well be the closest person to me, and I don’t remember him at all.
For some reason, the thought struck Albert hard as he sat down with Caesar in the bar. The younger boy was staring at his hands, his tears wiped away and his face slowly sinking into a more composed expression. There was a silence that hung between them for several minutes, as the initial contact had been made and neither really had any idea what to do.
“… How do we do this?” Albert inquired, tilting his head slightly and gazing at Caesar.
“Hell if I know,” Caesar replied, lifting his hands to rub his temples. “I was kinda hoping you’d know.” Since you’ve always known what to do in the past.
Albert watched the younger redhead carefully, unsure of how to approach the situation. He wondered how awkward everything was for the other boy, especially if what Apple had said was true and they had fought in the past. Although hesitant, he managed to clear his throat and speak again. “Well… I suppose we should start with the basics.” He tapped his chin thoughtfully, unaware of the look that Caesar aimed at him.
“It’s been awhile since I’ve seen you tapping your chin like that,” he reflected with a slight frown. “After Soledt, you just … heh, you just stopped showing outward signs of thinking.”
Albert blinked at the strange remark, brows furrowing slightly. “Why would I do that?”
Caesar snorted in something between indifference and amusement. “I really don’t know. We didn’t talk very much once you came home from school. And then you left to go back to Harmonia less than a year after graduating… We never really had a chance to talk after that.”
Harmonia? The name struck a chord of recognition in Albert, and he tilted his head back slightly as his thoughts churned.
Pristine tiles and lush carpets decorated the often-walked paths, archaic tapestries lining the walls and giving the structure an atmosphere of history and magic. There were many scholars here, as well as government officials. From the second story, they appeared as dots of blue and black, traveling slowly across the floor towards destinations hidden by the numerous bookshelves.
His gaze focused on the sigil embedded on the floor of the great library. Black and gold against the marble floors, every inch of the seal spoke of feral magnificence that went beyond the span of mortal knowledge.
“Such a peaceful prison for a wild beast.”
That’s enough.
“… What did you just say?” Caesar inquired, staring across the table at his older brother.
The look Albert returned was quizzical at best. “Say? I didn’t say anything.”
Caesar grimaced at the uncharacteristic confusion on the other’s face, straightening in his seat as he spoke. “You said ‘Such a peaceful prison for a wild beast,’ Albert.”
“Did I? I don’t remember saying that…”
Instead of gawking, as was his initial reaction, Caesar clenched his jaw in frustration at the vague reply. “How can you forget something you just said?” he demanded. “Don’t tell me you can’t even retain thoughts anymore.”
There was another awkward silence that stretched between the two for several moments. They engaged in a staring contest not unlike those that they would when they were much younger, as they were never allowed to fight physically due to their age differences. Caesar fleetingly recalled always stomping off after those staring contests, because he could never best his unflinching brother no matter how angry he got.
That was why he blinked hard when Albert lowered his gaze only after several seconds.
“It’s not as if I can explain it,” Albert said, clearing his throat uneasily. “Lady Sana has said that I forget too easily, and even Miss Apple was shocked. I take it that this isn’t normal for me at all, is it?”
How do you tell someone that they’re the exact opposite of the way they’re presently acting? Caesar brooded, cupping his chin with one hand and sighing raggedly. “So what’s the point in telling you anything at all?” he inquired, unable to keep a tinge of annoyance from his voice. “If you won’t remember it five seconds later, what’s the point?”
As he reflected upon it, Caesar realized that he had been unable to take this sort of tone with Albert for several years. After returning from Soledt, Albert’s goals became career-driven and his wit gained a caustic edge that scared him away from confrontations. Although he had become a moody teenager by that time, he hated arguing with his brother and getting into fights over strategy and Silverberg duty.
Besides, Apple was around by then, and she always made sure to knock him over the head for fighting with Albert.
Runes, I can’t just give up on him like that. I want him to remember these things, too…
“… What’s on your mind now?” asked the older Silverberg, noticing the weak smile on the younger’s face.
“Just remembering something,” Caesar answered, his resolve strengthened by the memories. “I know this is going to be tough, but I’m gonna try my very best to be patient with you.” He watched Albert smile slightly at his words and nod encouragingly.
“Your name is Albert Silverberg, and you’re my older brother. We weren’t exactly the best of brothers by the time you left, but you took care of me…”
* * * * *
There was a fine mist that threaded through Kuput Forest, obscuring the path that the Harmonian entourage would have to follow towards Chisha. Sasarai had thought it the best way to approach the village, considering the uproar that had been caused the last time Mantors had shown up around Chisha. The Mantor riders dropped off their passengers in one of the few clearings that existed in the dense forest before taking their leave again, flying back towards Le Buque against the noonday sun.
By Nash’s estimation, the journey through the forest would take no more than two hours. The four men walked with few words between them, Nash leading and Clive bringing up the rear.
Sasarai found himself missing the comforts of a battle steed. Although horses could be bothersome and far too smelly for his tastes, they made traveling long distances less daunting. He tried not to think too hard about what they would face at their destination, knowing that questioning Grasslanders about an exiled Harmonian officer would be awkward at the very least.
The bishop stiffened when he felt Dios’ hand come to rest on his shoulder, looking back at the taller man in warily. He turned completely when he noticed Clive spying the treetops, frowning. “What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice low.
“We have company,” the Howling Voice Guild Master muttered, unslinging Sturm and quickly realigning his aim to where his eyes had been focused only moments before.
Upon seeing Clive draw his rifle, Sasarai tensed and stepped towards the cloaked man in alarm. “No, don’t--!”
Thunderous noise tore through the forest, and Sasarai winced at the unfamiliar sound of a gun going off. The flutter of wings told him that he was not the only one surprised by the sound, and he took a deep breath to calm his nerves.
Nash scowled as he strode back to join the other men, his blue-eyed gaze on Clive. “Have you forgotten that we’re not supposed draw attention to ourselves? If there are Alma Kinan patrols around, I’m sure they would have heard that.”
There was a disembodied chuckle from above. “I suppose the Gunner has good reason to be shooting at me.”
The three blondes reached for their weapons as a figure dropped out of the trees, Dios and Nash taking a position in front of Sasarai as they recognized the tall figure clad almost entirely in black. “You…,” muttered Nash, one hand hesitantly coming to rest on one of his snake swords.
“He’s been watching us for awhile; I couldn’t pinpoint him until he was almost on top of us,” Clive hissed, expertly reloading his gun and taking aim.
Sasarai thrust up a hand to stop the Gunner, his face hardened as he stared at the notorious figure. “Yuber… What are you doing here?”
Yuber shrugged, although the action was almost lost due to the fact that he still had Albert’s coat slung over his shoulders. “I could ask the same, ‘rune container,’” he taunted, taking pleasure in the grimace that crossed the bishop’s face.
Dios came to his superior’s rescue when he saw him falter at the insult. He took notice of the familiar coat that the demon carried as he spoke. “Are you an emissary of Albert Silverberg again?”
The knight raised a brow before remembering the additional weight he was carrying, nonchalantly sliding the coat off of his shoulders and holding it in front of him like an infested rug. “What, are you referring to this? What does it matter to you?”
Dios fell silent as he saw Sasarai prepare to speak again. “We are looking for your former … employer.” There was no way to properly gauge the mixture of anger and loathing that crossed the bishop’s face; the barely-bridled emotions were far too intense to define.
“Such an elite little killing group; you all reek of blood,” remarked the demon, mismatched eyes gleaming maliciously beneath the visor of his hat. “If I didn’t know better, I would say this is a manhunt.”
Sasarai continued to speak for the group, his eyes growing colder as he recalled more of the demon’s actions during the last war. “And why would it matter to you if it is?”
A broad, eerie smile crossed the blonde’s face at the question, and he met Sasarai’s gaze as he spoke. “Because I know where your man is.”
* * * * *
Caesar splashed cold water onto his face, rubbing at the streams that gathered along the curves of his chin. After explaining their relationship and summarizing the majority of their shared lives to Albert, he had excused himself from the table and gone to wash his face and gather his thoughts. Knowing Albert, he would probably be taking his time in absorbing the amount of information that had just been crammed into his head.
I don’t think I could have handled staring at those blank eyes any longer.
Throughout the entire time he had been talking to Albert, Caesar was trapped within the horrible idea that nothing he said would actually stay in his amnesic brother’s head. The unfamiliar look of confusion that continued to cloud Albert’s face unnerved Caesar, and he quietly congratulated himself for being able to sit still for as long as he did.
“It must frustrate you that I still don’t remember anything.”
He tensed and averted his eyes, seeing Albert standing at the doorway with his arms crossed. Burying his hands in his jacket pockets, the younger Silverberg turned completely to acknowledge him. “Yeah, it does. But I’m not going to give up until I’ve exhausted all my options.”
“Sounds like something a tactician would say.” The elder smiled briefly as he recalled that piece of information.
“Yeah, well, our family is known for producing some of the most renowned strategists. ‘There’s a Silverberg behind every great war’ … or something along those lines.”
Albert’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Who said that?”
“… I don’t know who originally said it, but Grandfather Leon said it from time to time.”
Leon Silverberg.
Sunlight through windows, over tiles…
A man stood over him, his aged eyes resting on six figures standing on the other side of the room. The man -- Leon -- removed a glove and produced a knife from his long coat, bringing it to his wrist… He allowed the blood to flow from his wrist and, drip from his outstretched arm and onto … him…
Give me your blood.
Feed me with your life.
Catalyst to my summon…
An unearthly howl resounded throughout the hall.
“Albert?”
He shook his head, his attention returning to the present. “Yes?”
“You zoned out again.” Caesar paused thoughtfully. “Did you forget what you were thinking about?”
Albert shook his head again, raising his hands to rub at his temples. “No, though it’s all rather hazy, to say the least. Tell me more about … Grandfather Leon.”
So he remembers Grandfather, but not me? Scratching his head and trying to hide his disappointment, Caesar sighed. “All right. Where should I begin?”
They walked back to the table together, where Albert waited for Caesar to seat himself before speaking. “Did he cut himself at all? Slash his wrist or something like that?”
Caesar stared at Albert for a good few moments, speechless. When he finally opened his mouth to reply, he could not help but stutter. “… How do you remember something like that?”
“It came to mind as soon as you mentioned him.” He shrugged helplessly. “From your reaction, I take it that he did?”
Nodding in affirmation, Caesar explained, “Grandfather got it during his service to Highland during the Dunan Unification War. He never went into great detail about how he ended up getting the scar.”
“Highland?” Something about the name stirred memories in the older Silverberg’s mind.
“Yeah… A kingdom far north of Toran; its last ruler was Jowy Blight.”
Jowy Blight?
He wasn’t the important one.
The wild eyes and wild hair of a madman driven over the edge by some agony that he does not talk about freely. His laughter resounded with every destructive desire that he wished upon the earth as the very air lurches. He smiled psychotically, his gaze resting on something rising above him…
The screams of thousands flooded his ears.
“Luca Blight.” Albert lowered his head, trying to shake the nightmarish images from his memory. Ironically, the only thoughts that came to mind were ones that he did not want to keep. “That’s where the name came from…”
Caesar watched his brother uneasily. Why does he know about that and not anything pertaining to himself? “I don’t get it, Albert. Luca Blight died sixteen years ago, hundreds of miles from where we lived; why do you remember something like that? More importantly, why would something like that come more easily than thoughts of, say, Harmonia and our family?”
Harmonia again… Something in the back of Albert’s mind clung onto that name again and would not let go of it.
And then his head began to ache again. Unlike times in the past, his headache was accompanied by a sickening churn in his stomach. Urgency. A feeling that he needed to run away.
He pushed himself up and to his feet, meeting Caesar’s confused gaze for a moment. “I … need to get some air. I’ll be right back.” The young man felt as if he was suffocating on the strange urge, stumbling away from his chair before regaining his composure. Not bothering to look if Caesar was following him, Albert strode out of the underground tavern and up onto the grass. The sun had already dipped from its highest point in the sky; only a few more hours and the sun would disappear completely, replaced by the black canvas of night.
Even breathing in the fresh air was not helping much; his headache refused to diminish, steadily becoming more bothersome. He shifted uneasily, his muscles tense and ready to react at the slightest disturbance.
That was why he started quite violently to a hand falling lightly on his shoulder, and he jerked away to stare at whoever had grabbed him from behind.
A dark smirk and feral, mismatched eyes greeted him. “It’s been awhile, Silverberg.”