Dragons, Dystopians, and Denial

Elias wasn't sure if he should, but he didn't care. He reached out to pat her shoulder.

"We're both a little messed up, and that's messed up. But life sucks, I guess. At least we have each other?"

He offered a small smile, but it was getting hard to sound genuine. Her sudden outburst seemed to fade the rum's effects.

Jerica tensed as he patted her shoulder. She wasn't liquored up enough to find it endearing anymore, and she barely resisted the urge to swat him away. She took a deep breath. Stop being a bitch. She slowly let the breath out, willing it to take some of the rage with it.

"Yeah." She couldn't be bothered to force an ingenuine smile. "Guess the gods hate us both equally."

"Well, I don't know about that," he said, letting his smile fade into a forced half-smile as his hand slipped off her shoulder. He put his hands to his side and then set them in his pocket. "If there were gods, I think they abandoned us a long time ago."

"Oh, it's just an expression." Jerica waved lazily, shooing away the fact that he took her seriously. She sighed and wandered back to the fire then sat down, deciding to forgive him. And to keep to safer topics. "But whatever, no point in crying over spilled milk. Life sucks and then you die."

Elias followed after Jerica, sitting across from her and glugging some water from the canteen. When finished, he laid down, staring up at the night sky.

"Yeah," he agreed solemnly. "What our purpose in this life is, I don't know. I'm convinced we're all born to die."

“Some people are useful. They create knowledge. And beauty. And art.” Jerica stretched her legs out, thinking about Rek. Her mind flicked to Akeno. “Or even just kindness. And patience. And love.”

She sighed. “And then there’s us.”

Elias huffed through his nose. "Yeah," he said flatly. "Two people who hate themselves out on a journey without really knowing what they're doing. I'm sure this story will end well."

“Well...” she smirked, looking at him playfully. “You did get the honor of being rescued by the pretty princess.”

Elias tried to chuckle, but he was too tired to do so and instead sighed. Sleep suddenly hit him hard while he was laying down.

"I knew I was the damsel in destress," he dead-panned.

"Don't worry. We'll get you competent in no time..." Jerica hesitated, remembering how pitifully the training had been going so far. She yawned. "Well, some time. Then you can be a damsel in defense."

Elias wanted to roll his eyes, but he found himself closing them instead. He should probably get his sleeping bag instead, but he didn't care. The ground and vastness of the night sky started to lull him to sleep.

"You're real funny, you know that?" he said with a strained voice.

Jerica tensed a bit, gaze flicking towards him as she tried to read his tone. But she couldn't.

That rarely ended well for her when she was a kid. She could still hear Biryn's voice in her head, 'Oh, you think you're funny, do ya?' Immediately before he hurt her and told her that's what he found funny.

But, she wasn't scared of Elias. And she thought she was funny, too. "I'll take that as a compliment."

Elias paused for a few moments, letting the peace and tranquility of the alcohol flow through his blood. It made him giddy at first, but now, he just felt numb. It was nice.

"It is," he said quietly, eyes still closed. "Even though sometimes you try too hard."

"You'll have to be more specific than that." She smirked a bit, closing her eyes. "I try too hard most of the time."

"You're a natural comedian then," he said, groaning and sitting back up. "Especially since you make me laugh all the time."

It was hard not to smirk at that, but he kept his neutral expression and picked off the sleeping back from the saddlebag and unrolled it near the fire.

"I'm going to go to sleep first, but just wake me up when it's my turn to keep watch," Elias said, not caring if she was tired too. He was much more sore and he couldn't stay awake even if he wanted to.

He laid on the sleeping bag and let the wave of sleep wash over him.