“Don’t you dare fucking judge,” Soren hissed. “Gorgons are very instinctual creatures. The most we could do was prevent him from hurting himself and others further. We did what we could, and he did as much as his instincts allowed him. Unfortunately, pregnancy happens to make him more paranoid than normal.”
Killian pursed his lips. “His face and arms look a bit thinner, which tells me he isn’t eating enough.”
“Well, he likely isn’t, but then, he falls into fits easily. It's hard to shovel in food when he is trying to turn you to stone or bite you,” the Harpy stated testily, before practically barking, “Fix that,” as he turned and left.
“I’m getting tired of being snapped at,” he said stiffly, glaring after the man as the door closed behind him. “I may hurt him.”
Cyrus chuckled. “I have no inclination to stop you.”
Killian grunted, before looking back down at Ender with a sigh. “Should we try to move him? Surely he has a bed?”
“Our source of information just left.”
Killian jumped as someone cleared their throat, both of them looking back at the other man who they’d apparently forgotten about. Which was a testament to how tired both of them were, as the guy was over seven feet tall, and sporting bright-green hair.
Cyrus’gaze flicked to Quill, before he found himself eyeing the chickens as a few of them took a seemingly threatening step towards them.
“Yep, I’m still here,” the Fate said with an amused smile, as he also briefly glanced down at the chickens. “Just ignore them. The demons all belong to Ender, and they mostly only listen to him. They have names, and I know them, but right now they aren’t being friendly, so I don’t think they deserve them.” When the man’s words were followed by more angry clucking, he snapped, “Oh, knock it off! I feed your asses half the time!”
Cyrus cleared his throat awkwardly. “So…what relative of mine are you related to?”
Quill tilted his head, laughing almost nervously. “I'm afraid I don’t know why you think we are related.”
He frowned, his brow pulling at that. “You know what you are, don’t you?”
Quill smiled brighter at that, but didn’t say more on the subject, just asking, “Want me to show you to Ender’s room?”
“Please,” Killian cut in.
With his Baby sounding more tired than before, he didn’t press the previous issue, and instead, he just swept Ender up, clothes and all.
They followed Quill back through the doors, and down the hall, where they took a set of stairs upwards from the foyer. The second floor of what he assumed was Ender’s home, or domain, had the same wooden floors and dark-green flower wallpaper as below.
Off to the right of the steps was a small sitting nook, with an old-fashioned wooden rocking chair on a rounded green rug. To the left of the chair was a small wooden table with a floating old lantern-type lamp above it. To the right of the chair, against the wall, sat a large bookcase filled with actual paperbound books. Not a single one looked new, but then, it wasn’t like much was made with paper anymore. On the wall behind the chair was a painting of chickens running.
There were three hallways, one directly to the left of the stairs, one straight across, and the last went to the right. They took the one to the left. Filled with doors, and what seemed like more artwork of chickens, the hall was long, and curved to the left at the end. Oddly, while the doors in the hall were all wooden, each was made from a different type of wood, and the hardware was in various styles, none matching.
As Quill stopped before the second door on the left, one that was made of a dark wood, and sporting an antique bronze doorknob with the design of a snake slithering around it, he said, “And this is where you’ll find Ender’s room. The whole house, well…home space, is his, but others do live here, so I’d say avoid snooping for now. Wait—” The man chuckled. “—actually, don’t snoop at all. Ender may be the most paranoid out of us all, but that doesn’t mean the rest will react well to a stranger coming into their room, and in some cases, their living space. As some of the rooms here are expanded and have their own private living areas.
“I'm not sure how long you intend to stay, but you will notice a lot of traffic, and just people coming in and out of the place. Numerous others live in Ender’s domain, myself included. But you’ll likely not even see half of them, as some are often away, and a few are hermits who rarely come out of their rooms.
“Either way, as there are likely places you won’t be allowed to go within the compound, I’d say until Ender wakes up, or Soren fetches you, stay put to avoid getting shot.”
“We’ll stay put,” Cyrus grunted.
“Good, good,” Quill hummed, while he opened the door and helped them move their things inside.
As they walked in, Cyrus’ brow rose at the mess. Clothes, blankets, and random shit littered the floor, as if a tornado had blown through, or a teenager. Like the rest of the space in this area, the style was very old farmhouse vibes, with wooden floorsand walls, not a curved wall to be seen, though there was a dark forest-green accent wall behind the bed.
The only thing that really stood out from the rest was the oversized rounded bed against the right wall. With a wooden frame and a carved headboard, the thing likely could comfortably fit five of him. It was covered in green sheets and a thick quilt, and along the left rounded edge, near the headboard, was what appeared to be a large, partly-constructed basket, or he supposed the better word for it would be a nest, made of clothing and who knows what else.
Antique wooden dressers lined the left wall, and there was a full-length floating mirror in the corner. The wall across from the hallway door was sporting two fake windows with beige curtains, both showing a believable night view of a lawn and some trees. On the floor by the windows were several, he assumed, fake potted plants. There was more chicken art on the walls, and above the bed, was a knickknack shelf full of pretty much just small ceramic chicken figurines.
“Ignore the mess, it usually isn’t like this. Boss has just been struggling at making his nest. He hasn’t much liked what we’ve given him. Usually, it’s the main source of his fits,” Quill explained.
“I see…” he said hesitantly. “Thank you for guiding us here.”
“No problem. If there is nothing else, I’m going to head to sleep. I’m sure you two could use some yourselves.”
