The Demon Lord And His Hero - Chapter 297

The sky was clear and the weather was pleasant when they reached Hide. The harbour was crowded with people and goods moving on and off the ships.

A hooded Enkansh carried Levia in a bag and disembarked from their ship. Not wanting the little monster to be seen by anyone, Syryn had wrestled her into a large cloth bag. Levia pouted in the bag but obeyed Syryn after she was warned by the mage.

“Welcome sailors! Bed and food for everyone at only twenty-five silvers per head! No bed bugs, no lice, and a free bath, only available for the first three people to buy a room!”

“Hands for hire!”

“Come stay at Hide Inn!”

“Pork buns! Pork buns!”

The cacophony of noises stopped the siren in his steps. He took a breath of the myriad smells in the air at Hide. Some smells were delicious and others made him want to retch.

“Are you okay?” Rowan asked Enkansh after stopping beside him. Aquamaring blue eyes under thick gold lashes regarded the siren with some concern.

The siren nodded. “Just a bit overwhelmed. My senses are confused by the smells.”

“You’ll get used to it,” Artemus said as he hauled a nauseous Syryn off the gangplank. The mage still hadn’t recovered completely from the food poisoning he had given himself.

“Syryn, did you take the medicine I got you from the healer?” Artemus frowned as he asked the mage who was squatting with his head between his knees.

He hadn’t. The smell of it had made him more nauseous and he’d poured it into the ocean. Even the sage couldn’t help him with his sickness because Syryn’s bag didn’t have anything for food poisoning. He vowed to buy himself a lot of different kinds of medicines that didn’t smell like old feet and basel.

Rowan silently patted Syryn over his head. He had witnessed the mage dumping his medicine but said nothing about it to Artemus. Bending down, he observed the mage’s pale face.

“Ryn, think about this moment the next time you decide to throw away the cure for your illness,” he said in a low voice.

Syryn gave Rowan a look that was dirtier than the bottom of the shoe he had discarded at Coop island. “Screw you, Rowan,” he said in a hoarse voice. “Kick me when I’m down, will you?”

The blond chuckled, the deep sound of which Syryn loved. “I’m just reminding you that you chose to remain sick, Ryn. Now be a good little mage and drink this.”

Rowan was holding another small vial of the medicine the mage had previously dumped. Syryn’s face darkened when he saw it.

“I like it when you’re obedient,” Rowan said in a buttery smooth tone. “Are you going to disappoint me, Ryn?”

Syryn’s eyes were glued to the anti mage’s perfect lips, an instrument of disaster that played Syryn with its words. The mage knew he was being manipulated by Rowan but was helpless against it. Was he going to disappoint Rowan? Only when hell froze over.

The mage snatched the vial out of Rowan’s hands. Screwing his eyes shut, he poured the contents of it down his throat. The reaction was immediate. Syryn almost threw up. Soothing back rubs from a comforting warm hand helped him get himself together.

Artemus had witnessed the exchange and it nearly made him roll his eyes. Syryn was a big baby and Rowan was an enabler.

“I’m getting late,” he declared to his companions. Artemus just wanted to get home and take a nice long bath. The visit to Coop had him feeling like he was carrying layers of grime on his body despite the daily baths he had taken.

“Right, let’s go home,” Syryn replied, already recovering from his nausea.

________

“Here we are,” Rowan said to Syryn and Enkansh. “Home sweet home.”

A tall iron gate painted black and gold stood before them, allowing the group to see through its bars to the large manor in the distance.

“I own this place?” Syryn said to the anti mage, eyes wide with surprise. He hadn’t expected it to be so big.

“Yes, Artemus gifted it to you,” Rowan replied. He wasn’t feeling very salty about it anymore but the vinegar jar wasn’t empty yet.

“Why?” Syryn asked. Rowan was his boyfriend but it seemed like Artemus was his benefactor.

“I don’t know,” came the reply. It sounded a little forced to Syryn. “If you don’t like it, I can get you another place where you want. You just have to say it.”

Enkansh blinked up at the sky pretending he was deaf and dumb. Levia was squirming in the bag and making sounds that conveyed she wanted to be let out.

“I do like it,” Syryn replied. “You don’t have to get us a new home yet. Maybe we can move out after we…” he trailed off as he looked at the gold ring on his finger.

‘Syryn and Rowan Windwalker’ he pictured the writing inside the ring.

“After we?” Rowan prompted Syryn to finish what he had been about to say.

Enkansh sighed and began to loosen the strings that tied the bag Levia was trapped inside. Her violent squirming had already mostly undone the strings.

“After we make everything final,” Syryn replied. He was too embarrassed to say anything more.

Rowan nodded. There was a conversation waiting for Syryn and he needed to have it soon.

“Can we go in?” Enkansh asked with impatience. “Or are you two going to make a baby right now?”

Syryn scoffed. “Babies and kids are too noisy.”

Nevertheless, he pushed open the gate. Syryn could see a red-headed child running out of a garden with a tall blond man. The child’s laughter sounded like bells to his ears. He was holding a small basket overflowing with flowers.

Lucien, Syryn recalled the name that Rowan had told him. What a beautiful boy, he thought.

Lucien spotted them just as soon as Syryn saw him.. The boy dropped his basket and began running towards Syryn.