Young Writers Society

Ciaran blinked and snapped out of his foul mood as abruptly as he'd sunk into it. "What world? Well, this is Earth and you're in a country called Australia." He tilted his head and studied the kid, meeting his gaze steadily. "Why did you want to know?"

...They were on Earth?

Was that where the people on Atlantis had come from? It wasn't common knowledge, but he had always been good at listening in on conversations he wasn't apart of. And he thought he had heard them mention a group of them on Earth, too, who did the same things that the group from Atlantis did.

"I-I have to go," he said. "Thank you for the drink and the information."

He got to his feet, fully intending to dart off the moment that he got a chance to.

Ciaran watched the kid get up and turn towards the doorway his fledgling was lingering in. "I don't think so," he said, and stood slowly. "As I said, it's not wise for you to be outside. It's nearly sunset. You should rest."

He didn't say it like a suggestion, and hoped the kid didn't take the order-like tone too personally. Ciaran couldn't help it; he was old and powerful and used to be listened to. That the kid kept ignoring him and trying to leave was as worrying as it was infuriating.

"Zest." He knew his tone was sharp, so he quickly softened it. "I highly suggest you stay here." He paused, hesitating and then added anyway; "Where you will be safe."

He flinched at the tone when the order was given.

"I'm not tired," he said, voice trembling as he just barely mustered the courage to go against what was being said. "And I'm used to people being scared of me - I know how to avoid them, and I know how to hide myself. I just really need to get going - I have to get home."

Ciaran frowned. "And how are you going to get home, hm?" he asked, moving to follow. "Wander the streets until you somehow end up back where you started?" He snorted and shook his head. "No. You should stay here."

"I'll find a way," he insisted. He tried not to falter when he realized he was being followed to the door, but he knew that his fear wasn't as well hidden as he had wanted it to be. He bit his lip beneath his mask; he was supposed to be better than this. He wasn't a scared kid - he had never been given the chance to be one. He was a wraith, and formerly held one of the rarest positions that could be given to a member of a hive ship.

That should have held some kind of weight, but all that he felt was the same confusion and fear he felt when he was first created.

Ciaran sighed. "Child, please escort our guest to a suitable room," he said and pulled up short to watch his fledgling step into Zest's path. "Please, just stay the night and put an old man's mind to rest, will you?"

The last thing he wanted to do was follow the request, but he was beginning to realize he didn't have any other options. Zest bit his lip a little harder; it was starting to hurt, but he didn't stop.

"Okay," he quietly said. "I'll...I'll stay. Thank you...Thank you for your hospitality."