Chapter 11
Chapter Eleven
L ying on a low stone wall, to any casual observer Leander would appear to be sleeping.
However, the wide smile on his face made it clear to passersby that he was not asleep.
He was not wearing a coat or cloak of any sort, just a neatly pressed shirt and loose trousers.
In this cold weather, where the snow was falling in the first flurries, signalling the beginning of winter, he was obviously shivering.
He was attracting several odd glances as a result.
He had spent ages watching the crumbling stone crawl around under his hand, its grey hues more kaleidoscopic than he could ever have imagined.
Time was so unbelievably slow. It felt like every second was a new moment happening, and he tried to wrap his head around it.
Then he would blink and the feeling of the stone beneath his hand renewed itself, and all the thoughts he had been clinging onto then floated away like bubbles carried off in the wind for children to burst .
For what felt like hours, he had gotten caught up in the sway of the blades of grass visible through the fallen snow all around the stone wall. They danced to a melody Leander could only just make out, a distant sound, but one he wanted so desperately to hear more of.
For his part, Leander was blissfully unaware of the stares he was receiving. The demigod’s eyes were open, pupils barely the size of pinpricks as they stared up at the bright, grey-white sky.
A warm energy slowly settled over Leander.
Everything felt so clear, like he could see each and every individual snowflake that was falling around him, right from the clouds, all the way down to where they settled on his nose and cheeks.
He licked his lips, the cool white snow melting on his tongue.
He was able to do this because everything had slowed down to the point where he could focus on the individual, and entirely unique, patterns of every falling snowflake. They were beautiful. He supposed that winter wasn’t so bad after all.
After a while of remaining still, Leander could no longer sense the wall he was lying on.
It was there, he knew it, and he was vaguely aware of it, but he felt…
light, like he was floating. His limbs were simultaneously too big and too small, his feet both too close and too far away. He wasn’t really here… he didn’t think.
“Get up.”
Very slowly, Leander’s gaze moved from its unfocused upwards stare to find the owner of the voice he had just heard. The voice sounded distant, as if there was a wall of glass between him and the speaker, muffling it .
A blanket was thrown on top of him and he moaned in half-hearted protest at the weight of the itchy material, suddenly covering his body without warning.
Perhaps unsurprisingly, it grounded him; the blanket was heavy enough to counteract the weightlessness which descended upon the fallen demigod each time he indulged in the illicit substance.
Moments ago, the sensation had felt so wonderful, so freeing.
But now, with instant realisation, Leander found himself frightened from the lack of control that accompanied the weightlessness.
He dragged the blanket closer to his chin and breathed in deeply.
“I will not ask again, Leander. Get up.” The disembodied, distant voice was clearer and Leander focused his gaze, which seemed to shine a bright amber in his intoxicated state, on his favourite brother. Verin Talius had a look of thunder about his face.
“Hello, dearest brother,” Leander’s words were not slurred, but they were exceedingly lethargic, as with everything that seemed to move around him at a glacially slow pace.
Knowing he had no other option but to move of his own free will before he was bodily shifted by the Talius scion, Leander took another deep breath and worked hard on focusing on controlling his limbs.
They responded and Leander released a gleeful cackle as he pushed himself to sit up on the stone wall.
He adjusted the blanket so that it was wrapped around his shoulders.
“Today I had eight cups of coffee, went for a walk, ate a whole bag of those little butteries the baker in the Bazaar makes, read an anthology of poems, found a lovely girl to tend to my throbbing cock… and I took enough opiates to bring down a small horse. You might call it self-destruction… I mi ght call it self-care. Balance is key in life, wouldn’t you agree, dear brother? ”
“The Nine will not protect you from the wrath of our father,” Verin, when Leander glanced up, looked like he wanted to slap his brother.
The demigod grinned stupidly.
He heard the sharp crack of skin against skin. It took a good few moments for the pain to register in his mind, and he loosened a hand from the woven, scratchy blanket to rub his cheek, which was starting to burn something fierce.
That caused him to sober up a little.
“Sorry, Verin.” Leander meant it, or at least a part of him did.
“Say that word disingenuously one more time, Leo, and prepare for the consequences.”
Leander kicked at the heaps of snow on the ground as he continued to focus on his breathing for a while. When Verin suggested returning home, Leander’s only sign of acknowledgement was to shakily stand up… and then sit back down as he discovered his legs wouldn’t quite obey him.
“I think I might have finally done it. He’s going to be so angry with me, Verin. Maybe I should flee. I doubt he would have me hunted down.”
“You may test that assumption at your convenience.”
When intoxicated, he became much more susceptible to suggestion and the carefully constructed barriers around his mind were like rotting wood. He was vaguely aware of Verin’s probing, but he didn’t care.
“Why couldn’t you just bugger off. Leave me alone… in my hard-won peace?” Leander muttered sullenly as he hitched the itchy blanket tighter around his shoulders.
“Believe it or not, little lion, I have plenty better things to do, and I would like nothing more than to, as you so eloquently put it, bugger off. Honestly this is not my choice, but father requests your presence, and I do so hate to be the disappointing son when the mantle so easily falls upon your shoulders.”
Not all Verin’s words penetrated through the fog that still rested heavily on Leander’s mind.
Though he had been present enough to ask the question, the intoxicated young man made no effort to listen to his brother.
He was in a pleasant state of peace still, a place where everything was a little less saturated in colour than normal.
The demigod blinked as a snowflake landed upon his eyelash, threatening a cold sting on his eye.
“Father?” he finally responded. “What, by the Nine, does he want with me?” Leander giggled. It started out light and false but soon overwhelmed him to turn into a borderline hysterical laugh. “He’s wanted nothing to do with me all these weeks I’ve been here. Why now?”
“It is not for me to ask. I was simply tasked with fetching you.”
“Better you than Venser, I suppose.”
“Yes. Quite,” Verin murmured. “Now, how do we sober you up?”
“You’ve never tried it?” Leander breathed out the words. He had stopped laughing and there was an element of seriousness to his tone now.
“Of course I haven’t, you complete wastrel.”
Leander’s fingers, gliding gentle along the skin on his arm, found a scab and his fingernails instantly started searching for purchase on the rough surface as he tried to pull the scab free from his skin.
“No, I don’t think you could handle it, brother.
” There was a matter-of-fact way Leander spoke, something rarely seen in the otherwise free-spirited demigod.
“The drugs cause enough pain, just as they also remove it.” He finally managed to loosen the scab.
His face, twisted in momentary pain as he glanced down to look at the sight of the injury, the raw, irritated and red surface left behind.
He stared intently at the scab, examining every colour and jagged edge, before discarding it onto the snow-covered ground next to the wall.
“None of that.” Verin took Leander’s hand to stop him from continuing to pick at his blemished skin. “It will heal without your assistance.”
Leander pulled his hand away from his brother half-heartedly, his fingers itching to continue worrying at the scab, but he abandoned his attempt all the same with a shrug, the sensation passing more quickly than usual.
“You haven’t answered my question.”
“Hmm?” Leander’s shivering became a little more prominent as the effects of his chosen substance, which had kept him in a warm and comforting cocoon, began to ebb away.
He was slowly coming down from his high.
As his body became heavier, his awareness and alertness heightened. “Oh, no need. I feel much better now.”
“I didn’t ask how you felt. I asked how to sober you up. I cannot bring you before our father like this.”
It was moments like this, coming to the end of his high, where Leander lost all wilfulness.
This was when he was at his most pliable.
Probably the perfect time to be presented to his father, he considered with more self-awareness than should be expected of someone who very recently considered himself capable of wingless flight.
“So, what do we do, Leander?” Verin asked again, not bothering to hide the irritability in his voice.
“Just… I want to go home now.” Leander was tired of this conversation. He was already tired from the meeting with his father which was yet to happen. “Give me some orange juice and I will be fine.”
Verin nodded and his hand steadied Leander as he stood up on still shaking legs. “Come on then.”