The sun was deceptively bright, unblemished by clouds. It offered a radiance that warmed the skin, relaxing the bodies of those who droned on in their worship. As the crowd pushed closer to the church, the streets became more empty, filled by stragglers who wished to empty their purse and shop keepers who would be more than happy to collect. The young adventurer was an exception to this, wanting to neither spend his coin nor collect any more. He had spent the early morning finding a place for himself and his brother to reside for the upcoming days, perhaps weeks. Clothes were acquired, food stored, and the grime on their bodies had been removed through intense scrubbing and irritation.
While the elder of the two stayed behind, content with allowing the trickle of time wash away his bitter memories, Finn was given no such solace. His day was to be spent ironing out the wrinkles of his own mistakes, created by his departure. It was his own fault, but that much was without question. Who in their right might would leave for months, knowing they may never return, leaving only a letter in their wake? A letter as descriptive and helpful as one would expect, devoid of any details that might have hinted at his actual destination. Instead, his words held a map of his thoughts and hopes as a desperate attempt to make her understand.
It explained that he had been approached by his guild master, given information of strange movements in a neighboring country. That the effects of this phenomena had begun to trickle into their country, and seemed to have an adverse affect on Humans, infecting their blood and transmissible. The information was sparse, offering little in terms of evidence. However, the news was enough to get Finn's attention. The death of his Guild Master still fresh in his mind, and the knowledge that this information could have held merit, was enough. In his mind, at the time, he would be able to move to preemptively protect both his guild and his lover, and perhaps he'd simply find the rumors to be false.
The reality of the situation had hit Finn far too late, making it impossible for him to reach out with an update to those who mattered. As the days turned into weeks, even he had begun to doubt his return. Now that he finally stood back in Fiore, in the town in which he had begun his journey, it was time to bring it to an end. His feet had stopped moving, standing him before a very familiar door. He had been told he could use it any time he wished, and that when she was in the town, she could be found here.
His hand raised, clenching into a light fist and resting his knuckles against the wooden frame. There was a pit in his stomach, empty and calling, fueling an anxiety that had once not existed. A lot could have changed in his months of absence. He surely had. His short sleeves showed still healing wounds littering his arms, and his face showed an aged exhaustion that had not been there previously. With a deep inhale, aimed at steadying his nerves, he knocked upon the door. His knuckles rapt at the wood, making loud and sharp noises to echo throughout the house, making sure to grab her attention wherever she may be.
Then he waited. Nervous, unsure of what was to follow, he could only allow the events to unfold as they would. He hoped she would be there, but would fate really be so kind as to give him this show of pity after so much anguish?