Silvius and Katan

:::Chapter Three:::

~An Even Stranger Stranger than the Stranger~

There’s a sword going through my chest…

Katan stared unbelievingly down at the blood covered blade that had pierced his chest. He had fallen to his knees with the initial blow, blood quickly pooling around him.

'Guess this means I’ll have to buy that new shirt after all,' Katan thought faintly, slightly annoyed at the waste.

He had yet to feel the pain of the blow, but that quickly changed when the hand, still holding tightly onto his shoulder, pushed him roughly forward, drawing the sword from his body and causing him to fall forward in a heap, his arms too weak to hold him up. Pain radiated throughout his body, but he couldn’t seem to get enough air to even gasp in pain.

There was a faint rustling sound as the person crouched down beside him, studying his struggling form. A darkly gloved hand reached down to brush back his still wet hair from his face.

“Well, you certainty are a pretty little thing, aren’t you?” A voice Katan didn’t recognize stated. “If you’re not the one I’m looking for…it’s such a waste. It had to be done, though, you understand, right?”

'I most certainly do not understand,' Katan fumed silently at his attacker. He was still struggling to breathe but, strangely enough, within just a few seconds the pain had begun to fade.

“Hmm?” The stranger leaned closer. “Looks like you really are Katan, what luck!”

Now that the pain was almost gone, Katan tried to get a better look at his attacker. Though the moonlight filtering in through the window by the front door was bright, he could only make out the silhouette of his attacker crouching beside him.

“Now that the messy part is over with,” the stranger began to swipe something across Katan’s back and it only took Katan a second to realize the stranger was cleaning his sword with his shirt! “You don’t mind, do you? The shirt’s ruined, either way, and besides, it’s your blood.”

As the strength returned to his numb limbs, Katan began to wonder what exactly he should do. He watched the shadowy figure of his attacker calmly stand and sheathe his sword in a scabbard hanging at his left hip. Slowly, Katan pushed himself up, watching for any sudden movements from his attacker. His shoulder length hair dripped with more than just water, and his clothes clung warmly to his front, making him wince at the uncomfortable feeling. The slick feeling against his hands caused him to glance down at the large pool of blood beneath him.

“You certainly bleed a lot,” his attacker observed, “but then again, one would when stabbed through the heart.”

You think? Katan wanted to shout at the stranger, but figured it best to keep quiet. No need to anger the guy and get stabbed again.

“Well, best to hurry and get out of here, then.” The stranger began to rummage through a pack that was set next to the door. “Hurry up and get yourself cleaned up. Here,” the stranger threw something on the ground a few feet away from the puddle under Katan, “get dressed in these. Use your pitcher to clean the blood off of you.”

Katan just stared at him in confusion. Now that the stranger wasn’t standing directly in front of the window, he could see him a lot better. It was an elf. Another elf, not the same one from earlier, not Silvius. This elf had slightly shorter ears than Silvius, but they were still very noticeable. His hair was a light color, though it was hard to tell exactly what color it was in the lighting. Silvius’ white hair had seemed to nearly glow in the darkness, this one, not so much.

“Who are you? What are you doing here?” Katan finally asked. “Why did you stab me like that?”

“Well, I had to make sure, didn’t I?” The elf frowned when he realized Katan wasn’t moving towards the clothes or pitcher of water. “I had to make sure you were actually The Katan, and not just some pretty little human with the same name. How else was I supposed to do it?”

“So you stabbed me!?” the delayed feelings of anger finally washed over him. “So you stabbed me to make sure!? To make sure I’m Katan? You could’ve just asked me like any other normal person would!”

“Well,” this guy certainly liked saying well, “it’s the easiest and quickest way to make sure you’re not lying.”

“Lie? Why would I lie? You didn’t have to stab me! What if you had killed me!?”

“Well, you’re not dead, now, are you? And if you had died…well, it would’ve been sad, I’m sure, but that would just mean you weren’t the one I was looking for. Now I know without a doubt that you are The Katan.” The elf looked around the room filled with books. “You’re a bookkeeper?”

“A librarian.” Katan glared, standing up he headed towards the pitcher. The blood had started to cool and stick uncomfortably.

“A librarian?” The elf snorted. “What a waste.”

“Excuse me?”

“How long have you been here doing this?” Katan didn’t answer. He began to strip his clothes, unembarrassed at being seen. Using the cleanest part of his shirt, he wiped off most of the blood. “Well, you’ve been gone for a long time, I wonder if you’ve been here all this time?” The elf mused to himself absently as he stared at Katan cleaning himself. “It’s been…how many centuries now? Three? Four? That’s a pretty long time to be librarian.”

'Is it normal to be talking like this to someone who just stabbed you?' Katan wondered absently.

“I like being a librarian,” was all he said. He poured water over himself, getting all the blood off of his body, but didn’t have enough to wash his hair. He did the best he could, then walked over to the pile of clothes the elf had thrown on the floor and began to dress. Why waste free clothes?

The elf opened his mouth to say something more, but was interrupted by a loud bang on the front door.

“Katan, you in there?” It was a voice Katan didn’t recognize, deep and dangerous sounding. The elf had unsheathed his sword, and was posed tense and angry.

“Who is that?” the elf asked quietly.

“I’m not sure,” Katan said just as quietly.

“Katan,” the pounding on the door became stronger, and Katan wondered if the old door would hold, “Katan, its Robert! Open up!”

“Robert?” as in Robert the Blacksmith? Katan went towards the door, but the sword suddenly swinging his way stopped him. He really didn’t want to get stabbed again.

“Who’s Robert?” the elf asked.

“He’s my neighbor, the blacksmith.” Robert the Werewolf. Glancing at the puddle of blood it occurred to Katan just how good of a nose werewolves were said to have.

“Tell him to leave. Don’t open the door all the way. If you do anything funny I’ll run both you and your neighbor through.” The elf backed into the corner beside the door, his sword still up and waiting.

Katan nodded silently. Opening the door just a crack, he peeked out cautiously. It was the first time Katan had seen his silent neighbor face to face. Usually the large man would be facing a billowing flame, hammer in hand, forging something; though Katan never really paid any attention to what he was working on. It was probably the first time for Katan to actually see the man’s face.

He was tall. Very tall. Katans eyes were level with Roberts’s chest when he first peered out from the door. The moon shone down brightly on him, highlighting every bulge of muscle and the chiseled structure of Roberts angry face. Robert’s golden eyes glowed eerily in the dark, his dark brows lowered dangerously as he scowled down at the librarian peeking from his house.

“Robert?” Katan grinned at the other man, conscious of the sword wielding elf next to him. “This is the first time I’ve heard you say anything; I didn’t even recognize your voice.”

“What’s going on?” Robert demanded. He put one hand on the door and tried to push it open. Katan gave a strained laugh. Trying not to be too obvious about it, he put all his weight against the door, trying to hold it closed. The door still opened slightly, and Katan pushed even harder, his smile becoming more and more tense. The guy was opening the door that held nearly all of Katan’s weight with one hand!

“Nothing’s going on. What makes you think there’s something going on?”

Robert paused, his head tilting to the side as he studied the smaller man. Robert wasn’t one to interfere in anyone else’s affairs; he came to this small village to get away from such troubles. But he actually liked this little man that would randomly come to his shop and chatter away for hours about nothing. Whenever the forge was silent, Robert could often hear the little librarian through the thinner wall where his shop and the librarians faced each other, chattering to himself. But this time, this time the chattering was with another unknown person, and the heavy scent of spilled blood wafted heavily from the librarians house.

Katan’s face was tense with strain; the fact that he was trying to push the door closed was quite obvious from the light sweat on his forehead. The scent of blood was strong, and undoubtedly came from both Katan and the room beyond. Katan’s auburn hair was actually stained in it near one side of his face, as if he had been laying down in a puddle of it. Making a decision, Robert pulled the door, causing Katan to yelp in surprise. The door paused slightly when it closed shut but, in one fluid motion, Robert continued to pull and the door tore open and off its hinges. Katan, still holding the door handle on the other side in shock, came tumbling out.

Robert grabbed the smaller man to him before Katan could fall to the ground, and stepped away from the door way as a slight figure appeared, sword glinting in the moonlight.

“You broke my door!” Katan sputtered, furious.

“Someone was threatening you,” Robert replied calmly as he glared at what appeared to be an elf. “Who are you, stranger? And what do you want from my librarian?”

“My name is Silvius,” the elf stepped out of the library, teeth gleaming as he grinned at the blacksmith. “I’m here to collect Katan, my lover that seems to have gotten himself lost for the past few centuries.”


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A/N: ....aaaand hopefully the next update won't take as long as this one did :P
j/k