Spellbound by Marcus Atley

closet.
    The thick black leather was painted on. There was no other way that Stavros could have gotten it on his body. Stavros pushed back the masked cowl and smirked smugly as if he knew what Elion was thinking, and maybe he did. Elion wasn’t sure if his jaw was even capable of leaving the floor despite him being sure his cheeks were flaming. Stavros shifted the heavy sword that was sheathed at his back, and Elion groaned. Audibly.
    “Not up to your qualifications?” Stavros snorted. Elion blinked rapidly a few times, urging his eyes away from the smooth leather detailed with beautiful, ancient designs.
    “No, uh- you’re qualified. Armor- armor is qualified,” Elion stuttered. Stavros gave him an incredulous look. “Can we just go?”
    Elion made quick work of suiting up, quickly feeling inferior to Stavros though the quality of his armor was no less superior. He was proud of it, not proud of the blood that had soaked into it or the tallies that marked his battle victories, but it had always made him feel like he was someone strong, someone able to be something greater. He was learning, though, that Stavros had a way of making him question everything without even saying a word.
    Stavros cocked his head curiously when Elion slipped his bow into place and watched intently as he slipped an enchanted dagger into the side of his boot.
    “What?”
    “Nothing.” Stavros shrugged, but didn’t lessen the intensity of his stare.
    “Is something wrong?”
    “No.” Stavros looked away, his eyes focusing on nothing in particular while Elion finished up.
    ~~
    An awed, whoa , slipped through Elion’s lips as he took in the landscape around them. The mountains in the distance appeared to reach the clouds and the snow that capped them was blinding. The air was sweet, with hints of earth and forest blended in. The plains around them were still partially covered from the latest snowfall; not enough to make walking difficult, but Elion knew that could change at any moment the further they traveled. Just outside a dense forest a few large elk grazed, the only sign of any other life besides them.
    “This is beautiful,” he finally said. Stavros nodded before taking off in a steadily paced walk. “How long until we get where we’re going?”
    “Depends. Might take a week, might take a month.” Stavros shrugged. Elion arched a brow as he waited for Stavros to begin explaining.
    Stavros didn’t.
    ~~
    “This sucks,” Elion muttered after a few hours of silence. Stavros ignored him as they trekked through the wilderness that was quickly losing its beauty in Elion’s eyes. Now, as the snow began to fall as a thick, heavy blanket, his muttering turned into pure whining. “This really sucks.”
    “This is nothing,” Stavros chuckled. Elion stopped, his boots sinking into the fresh snow. Stavros glanced over his shoulder, his eyes glistening from cold and diluted sunlight, and Elion felt weak, because that look combined with that sound- he wanted to bottle it. “What now?”
    “Nothing.” Elion shook off his shock and continued. “Have you ever seen a case of Stockholm Syndrome?” he asked, quickly catching up with Stavros.
    “Can’t say that I have,” Stavros mused, a brow arching under his cowl, “Why?”
    “No reason.” Elion shrugged lazily before clearing his throat. “Does it always snow like this?”
    “No. Most of the time it’s worse in these parts,” Stavros said. Elion huffed and kicked at a chunk of firm snow that threatened to trip him.
    “We’ll set up here for the night.” Stavros gestured to a small cave entrance no more than a few hundred yards away. There was a stream not far from it, still running despite the increasingly low temperature. There were enough trees to provide an extra bit of shelter, though not enough to leave them blind to any possible dangers. Elion scrunched his nose and followed Stavros in, watching as the older man scanned the area for any sign of recent