By Zephyria ========
A strong smell of alcohol wafted from the man. The sharp, pungent scent actually cleared Silver’s mind a bit. Despite that, he couldn’t turn away immediately and remained staring at the man. It was more that he was unilaterally held captive by the man’s gaze—by those amber eyes that glowed eerily even in the darkness.
In the next moment, Silver flinched. The man had suddenly tilted his head toward him. The sound of a slight intake of breath followed. That was all. The man’s movement had only narrowed the distance between them by a fraction, and breathing was a natural biological activity for anyone. Yet, for a moment, goosebumps rose on Silver’s skin.
Did he just smell me? Why?
Soon, the man took a step back.
“I’m a mess, aren’t I? I woke up from a nap.”
His voice sounded more drenched in intoxication than sleepiness.
“Where have you been all this time?”
Dizziness surged again. Silver held his breath and spoke.
“I was on this pirate island.”
“I didn’t see you.”
“So what? I have no obligation to be visible to you.”
“That’s true.”
The man gave a short laugh and turned around. His broad back was exposed like a canvas. A black tattoo running from his shoulder down to his lower back writhed flexibly with the movement of his firm muscles. Silver clenched and unclenched his fists.
I have to leave. I shouldn’t deal with that junkie anymore, I need to turn around… But that scent… Ah…
No. Get out of here…
His fragmented thoughts were severed abruptly. His feet followed the scent of sandalwood of their own accord. Silver inhaled and exhaled hazily. After repeating this a few times, he stopped caring whether it was a drug or something else. He had used things like this occasionally in the past anyway. It wouldn’t be a problem to do it again after a long time.
The room was the same as before, except for its owner. A single brazier barely lit the darkness, and furs were piled high in one corner. Gold trinkets were scattered across the table like seeds sown in a spring garden. A stuffed wolf’s head hung on the wall. Inside, there was a bed draped with long curtains. Glasses and liquor bottles sat on the nightstand.
Huh?
Finally, something unfamiliar caught his eye. A pure white bird was perched on a stand next to the bed. It wasn’t taxidermy.
The man raised one arm and gave a short whistle. The bird flew from the perch and landed lightly on the man’s forearm. Its hook-like claws dug into the skin, but the man didn’t even flinch.
Silver’s brow furrowed slightly. That bird?
He remembered belatedly. When he first found the man on the beach, it was the bird that had sat on his back, pecking at the nape of his neck.
“It was yours?”
Silver’s voice rose unconsciously. The man glanced at him from the corner of his eye.
“Mine?”
“That bird. It was with you when you were collapsed on the beach. It was yours from the start, right?”
“This fellow belongs to no one. We are friends. Closer than biological brothers.”
The man looked down at the bird. The bird rubbed its small beak against the man’s forearm. In that moment—so brief that Silver momentarily doubted his own eyes—a warm smile lingered on the man’s lips.
Of course, in Stohl, there were many who gave more affection to animals or insects than to humans. But there was something uniquely…
The chain of thought was soon severed again. Before he knew it, Silver’s gaze was fixed on the man. Golden hair that flowed down to his abdominals. It was long and smooth, unlike a warrior’s. It almost made his naked, muscular upper body look more barbaric. A predator looks more cruel when it lightly presses a fawn’s neck with its paw than when it clashes with its own kind. That beautiful hair was the fawn.
And his build. He was so tall that even the large door suddenly looked small. Yet, he didn’t give the impression of being unsteady. It was a body where the thick bones supporting the heavy muscles felt almost tangible. Additionally, strangely, there were no noticeable scars. Not a single wound, which warriors considered a mark of honor.
His gaze slid below the abdominals. He caught sight of the golden pubic hair slightly exposed outside the trousers hanging loosely on the hips. Even the outline of the genitals, which stood out more because of the darkness.
Silver blinked. Why am I doing this?
I can’t take my eyes off him.
The scent. Fuck, it’s all because of the Narcotic Herb scent.
“Were you a junkie?”
Unable to bear it, he spat out the words. The man and the bird both paused and looked at Silver simultaneously.
“A junkie? What are you talking about?”
“Don’t play innocent. You mixed drugs into the sandalwood powder.”
“Sandalwood powder?”
The man stared intently at Silver.
“You mean it smells like sandalwood? In here?”
“Faintly, yes.”
Silver instinctively inhaled and immediately regretted it. His vision tilted sharply.
“It is sandalwood. I was curious back then too—where did you get such high-quality fragrant wood powder? It’s a rarity that trades expensively even on the mainland.”
“Back then?”
The man’s tone in questioning him sounded somehow anxious.
“When you had the fever. The scent of sandalwood was strong in the lodging. So strong I could almost taste it on the tip of my tongue.”
“Sandalwood scent… You mean you can smell that?”
“It sounds like you can’t smell sandalwood.”
Silver endured the dizziness and forced a smile.
“They called you Stuffy Field Mouse; I guess there was a story behind the name after all. Did you always have a cold in your nose?”
“Not exactly. It’s just…”
The man smiled. Even as his vision wavered, that smile left a strange impression on Silver.
“I only perceive the scent of iris. Very strongly. So much so that it’s suffocating.”
“Iris scent?”
Puzzled, Silver inhaled again. He still smelled only sandalwood. There was no scent of damp earth, strong soap, or dried purple flowers.
“It’s only sandalwood.”
“To me, it’s iris.”
“Fine. Your nose isn’t stuffed.”
Silver waved a hand dismissively.
“My sense of smell is just messed up because I’m high. If I kneaded flour in this state, I’d definitely mess up the seasoning… right.”
The end of Silver’s sentence slowed unconsciously. Suddenly, the saturation of everything around him spiked. The man’s golden hair shone so brightly it made his eyes ache. The black tattoos wrapping around the upper body moved back and forth like fish swimming under clear ice. The faint sunset light leaking through the gaps in the boards nailed to the window turned into a vivid orange.
Hallucinations. These are hallucinations.
Silver stepped back hesitantly. His back hit the wall.
The man headed toward the nightstand. He grabbed a liquor bottle and drank from it directly. A stream of liquid dripped down his chin. His Adam’s apple bobbed heavily in time with the gulping sounds.
Eventually, the man slammed the bottle down. Startled by the noise, the bird fluttered its white wings and flew back to the perch.
The man turned around, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.
“Your face.”
He took a step closer.
“Take off the mask and show me your face.”
“…Why.”
Silver barely managed to let his voice out. Perhaps because of the drug, the strength was draining from his entire body.
“It’s an ugly face. What do you want to see it for…”
“I have to see it. Your real face.”
“My face is the face you know.”
“The one I know?”
The man’s tone dropped.
“A clean and beautiful face without scars. That is the real face of yours that I know. Show it to me now.”
“You’re… drunk…”
Suddenly, the hallucinations vanished. Everything around him returned to its original color and settled, but Silver’s mind became even blurrier, as if it had sunk into the deep sea.
“There’s no way… that’s the real face…”
“Magic played a trick on you. Show me your real face.”
“I’ve… already seen it.”
“Yes, you’ve already seen it. I’m saying I want to see it one more time.”
The man was already close. One step from him. No, slightly less than that. He was excessively close. Silver could clearly see the beads of sweat on the man’s naked chest.
The door was still open. If he walked just a few steps, he would reach the hallway. It was dark and cold, but it was a place he could escape to.
However, Silver’s toes, his gaze, were directed not toward the door, but only toward the man.
“Whether I show you or not… is up to me…”
“I want to see. One more time, up close.”
“I said… I don’t want to.”
“The more you refuse, the more I want to see.”
The man’s hand rose. The long fingers reaching out stopped in front of Silver’s chin. It felt as if an invisible chain had bound the man’s wrist and pulled it back at the last moment.
“Get out of here. No, don’t leave. Please, get out.”
Incoherent words poured from the man’s mouth. Soon, he clamped his mouth shut, shook his head violently, and closed and opened his eyes.
109 – Hell’s Execution Order