(A month ago.)
He sits at the counter alone, glass in one hand, absently swirling the drink. His other hand is tangled in an unruly mane of blonde hair. His eyes are closed. The noises of the bar reverberate around him, but he does not make a sound. His is the quiet on the verge of a sigh, the silence of what cannot be said.
'You won't find what you are looking for here.'
The words had drift into him from somewhere distant, expanding inside his chest, making it hard to breathe. The fog in his mind clears in an instant.
He puts down his glass and turns towards their source.
In the dim light, he can make out a female face peeking out at him from beneath the brown hood. The eyes that regard him are large and blue like the summer sky, and the naked disappointment in their depths unsettles him greatly.
Leave me alone, he mutters.
She doesn't seem to hear, or if she does, she pays no mind, for she strays closer. He can just barely feel her breath on his ear, but he does not miss what she whispers next.
'At the bottom of those countless glasses, you will find neither the person nor the solace you are seeking.'
His entire body tenses, a cocktail of rage and hurt flooding his veins.
What would you know, he thinks.
He is on the 'other side', there shouldn't be anyone here who knows.
'You have found no oblivion here. This...' she continues with a gesture of hand, 'is but a temporary crutch. It will never be enough.'
He takes a mouthful of drink, and tries not to listen.
'Have you managed to forget?'
The words jar him. She has hit too close. He feels as though something inside him has caught alight. He is burning. He cannot bear to hear another word.
He pushes past her and stumbles out of the bar into the night.
And keeps on walking.
He doesn't care where he is headed, as long as he can get away.
His mind is echoing.
How can I forget?
How can I forget?
He throws back his head and howls those words into the endless starry sky. They echo over empty streets.
Then all of a sudden, he is not alone anymore.
Two soft hands cradle his face, and he finds himself looking back down into the blue gaze he has been trying to escape. She is but a young lass, he realizes belatedly. But on her child-like face is etched such understanding... that he knows that she must know. His past, his reasons for coming here - everything.
He wants so much to ask her how she had come by that knowledge, but as she holds his gaze, he finds he cannot speak.
He cannot pull away.
They stand like that for several moments.
'Your Royal Highness, Prince Halcyon Fairweather of the Aori.' Her gaze never wavers from his as she speaks.
A human, addressing him by his full title. He should not be surprised, but he is.
'I did not intend to cause you alarm,' she says. So quietly, that if the streets were not then bathed in silence, he may have missed it. 'I have come with a proposition for you.'
Taken aback, he eyes her warily.
Nothing could have prepared him for what she utters next.
'Would you like me to take you to her?'
His heart constricts. The trail he'd been following had gone cold months ago, and though he searched long and hard, there had been no new leads.
Who is this young girl? How can she possibly know?
There are so many question he wants to voice. Inside him, disbelief and desperation battle for dominance.
What will she demand of him in return?
As if she had read that thought, her reply slips gently into the space where it belongs.
'All you have to do is take me there.'
This is his last hope.
Please.
His plea is hoarse with anguish.
...
