Welcome to Obonia

Thunder rolled in the distance.

A cool wind brushed through his hair. The smell of salt water filled his nostrils. A sharp pain ripped through his head. He squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to ride the pain.

A hand touched his shoulder.

"M'lord?"

The voice was familiar. Why was it familiar. It brought more pain to his head to think where he heard the voice before.

"Don't move too quickly."

A set of hands grabbed his sides and began to tug. He waited until he was still before trying to open his eyes. A familiar face stared down at him.

The face was scruffy, yet kind in a way. The eyes held mischief behind them, but nothing towards him as of yet. A warm smile graced the features of the person helping him.

"There. Already opening your eyes," the voice had a slight accent to it and some amusement. "You were always one to come to quickly. Ever so paranoid of your surroundings."

The newcomer turned away, humming slightly.

He tried to sit up. Pain sheered itself up into his head as he did. He pinched the bridge of his nose as soon as he was in a good enough position.

"What happened?" he grumbled.

"Hmm? Oh," the newcomer was back in his vicinity. "You were shipwrecked, Cole."

He jerked his eyes open at the mention of his name. He had not heard it in some time. Something was not right. He looked at the man now kneeling next to him, eyeing him up and down. The man was familiar, but not at all familiar.

"Gildhart?" Cole was cautious.

"Yes! Precisely!" Gildhart was excited to see that his old friend was okay for the time being.

Shiron is this excitable, Cole thought.

"Where are we?" Cole asked, trying to stand up.

This odd version of Shiron grabbed hold of Cole's arm and helped him to stand. "How do you not remember? You're home," a hint of concern filled Shiron's voice.

"Home?" Cole scoffed. "I'm on a beach."

"Well..." Shiron paused, thinking. "Not home home. That's in Farovale."

Cole shot Shiron a questioning look.

"It's a few days travel up the coast," then that smile appeared again. Cole noticed that there was something hidden behind it. Shiron knew something was off also and was not going to say as long as Cole did not mention it.

"Fine. Let's move then," Cole tried to take a few steps forward, but Shiron caught him.

The smile came with a more sinister hint behind it, "You're in no condition to travel, Cole. Let's wait a bit."

Cole pushed himself away from Shiron.

Shiron indicated for them to sit, moving at exactly the same time as Cole did. Shiron's smile never once left while Cole never took his eye off of his newfound companion.

"That's quite a scar," Shiron made a motion from the left top of his face to the bottom right.

"It's from the shipwreck," Cole's voice deadpanned.

"Ah."

They sat in silence for a while. Cole felt the pain that he was feeling earlier subside. There was a relief that he could at least think straight without the distraction of pain. The tension was thick enough that Cole could have cut it with his dagger...if he knew where it was. He moved slightly to account for his weapons, but only found his hidden blade.

Great. Unarmed. And no energy either, which means no magic. Cole allowed himself to huff. He hated being defenseless. Even more so around someone he did not quite know.

"You know," Shiron's voice cut through the silent air. "We could get the obvious out of the way." His smile had faded to a thin line.

Cole only quirked an eyebrow in Shiron's direction.

"You're not from here and you don't know me," Shiron's thin line turned to a frown. "You may bear the face of Cole Benworth, but you certainly are not him. You're too distrusting."

"You have a good eye," he was not impressed. Cole was starting to note the differences now as they talked.

Shiron chuckled, "Thanks, I think. Look, you don't have to say exactly where you came from or who you are, but just know, that I can be powerful ally."

Cole's stare started to make daggers.

"I can get you into Farovale-"

"For what price, Gildhart?" Cole interrupted.

Shiron's smile with a hidden sinister desire returned, "I tell no one of you not being from this dimension."

"Observant."

"Anyway," a dismissive wave, "You bear the face of someone that I know to be dead. You can take his spot without anyone questioning it. You can dismiss my comings and goings so that the Light Bringers don't catch on to my studies."

"Studies?"

"Lycanthropy."

"Ah. That lines up."

Shiron stretched out his hand, "A deal?"

Cole calculated his risks for a brief moment before he stretched out his own hand to shake Shiron's. "For now," he said. "You go back on being helpful, I will find you."

"At least you share that in common with your look-a-like," Shiron chuckled.

The pair sat in silence for a while longer.

“That thing has to go,” Shiron finally said, vaguely pointing to his own face. “That particular order no longer exists.”

“I wasn’t under the impression that they did exist,” Cole began to relax a little, albeit still tense from being around someone who he made a deal with that could turn against him in the future.

“’Magic bad’ according to Light Bringers and all,” said Shiron simply. It was not much of an explanation, but if Shiron thought it would suffice, it would. Cole put the information back into his mind for the moment.

Shiron started to twiddle his thumbs for a moment. “How bad is magic?” Cole asked.

Shiron glanced up from his hands. “Oh, well, it’s addicting. Like a drug. Nothing bad comes out of it yet. I suspect that’ll change in my future.”

Cole had more questions. Yet, something told him this was not the time to ask any of them. From what this Shiron had indicated, they would have time on the road. If they talked at all. A distinct possibility. He knew he had to get used to the rules within this new world. He knew he had to blend in to survive. None of this bothered him knowing what he would do as soon as he got to his real home. Cole was well into his plan of finding his Shiron and making sure that the man would never see the light of day when the Shiron in front of him spoke.

"Welcome to Obonia."