"I didn't ask for your help," the mage said with her voice shaking, Her red staff right in his face
"Well it did sure look like you needed it," our hero said his voice as soothing as the sea
She replied "What would you know about it, rich boy"
He paused for a second caught at a loss for words
His brain was in shambles. His thought process was, 'Wtf does she mean? Was she always so random?!'
He said, "Ummm…Rich? What do you mean by that?!" His voice showed his tone slightly more uneven
The mage said "Your clothes, the way you fight, the way you talk even how you fight
It's all screaming I had a privileged upbringing"
His face wrinkled, he started clenching his jaw
His voice suddenly exploded with "Yeah, I was liked by many and lived in a sanctuary
That doesn't invalidate what I have done here"
She rolled his eyes, "Yeah it shows in your lack of care for your life"
There were the smallest of pauses before
Her voice suddenly spiked with "Some of us don't get to see our 30s and you're out here throwing your life
like you are some sort of hero who will save a damsel in distress,
wake up, this is the real world-.."
He interrupted with, "So you want me to believe you had all this under control?
That you were fine?
Oh come on who are you kidding"
The mage said "Yeah I actually did,
you know we didn't have the right to be babysit by mommy and daddy out here,
surviving is all I know and I didn't need a naive child like you to show me how it's done
And also, interrupt me again and I swear I will slice that pretty neck of yours open"
Meurum responded with, "Why are you like this?!
I literally just saved you,
yet your voice echoes so much hatred,
what have I ever done to you, tell me"
"I don't know maybe live safely in a literal sanctuary utopia
while letting us rot and die away outside
We saw our loved ones die one by one
but of course, how can I even blame you,
we are subhuman scum anyways so why let us inside" the pyromancer responded
meruem wanted to speak but all that came out was silence
He wanted to say words but they were all stuck in his throat
Suffocating him
He believed that If you don't like the hand that fate's dealt you, fight for a new one
Yet he realized the hand he was dealt was a royal rush
So what would he know about suffering or changing fate
The silence was loud
He thought to himself 'This silence is so bad, what should I do, what do I even say in timed like this, fuck it I'm just trying to say anything, better than staying any longer in this silence'
The only words able to come out of his mouth after all that trying were "I'm sorry"
And the silence still elongated after, Uncomfortable quietness
His posture curled into itself; he was staring into the sand, his legs unconsciously fiddling with it, all while his hands sweater a river.
Her expression wasn't only anger
She looked sad, looked pained
He waited as her red face slowly turned back to pale white
As her hyperventilation slowly disappeared
Then he whispered, with a broken voice "Do I still pack my things up and leave?"
The pyromancer turned her entire body away from him
Her voice seemed slightly shaky
Yet her words were as firm as a newly forged sword "No need anymore,
sadly we are short on the swordsmen department after that attack,
letting you go would be a waste"
He tried to thank her
Only to keep stuttering
So he decided to use body language instead extending his arms
But it was too late she had already turned her back on him
He gave up lying on the ground
Seeing her silhouette shrink more and more in the distance
His eyes started closing
Little did he know he wasn't getting much sleep anytime soon