Home for Dinner

10 Months Before Arrival in Arcadia - Mizar

"Smells wonderful," came Shalia Nix’s tired voice as she closed the door behind her, sending one last rush of evening air into the two-roomed home. She had a leather chest-piece, two sheathed daggers, bracers, and her hands were spotted with dried blood. Her black hair was messy and falling out of the red ribbon's hold, and one of her pale cheeks a purplish-pink like it had been recently punched. Another day, another job with the Wardens, a Mizaran mercenary group.

The couple had been able to afford their own small house after a few years of working, and usually they took jobs together. That started when they were both younger and wide-eyed, searching for some sense of belonging and purpose that they found here with the group and eventually, with each other.

Mercenary weddings were a drunken blast on top of it. She would recommend it to everyone.

Jiyn looked over his shoulder from the cooking pot dangling atop the fire and smiled briefly at his wife who had gotten home later than expected. "Should be done here shortly. Managed to find some nice chilis at the market today. Cannot believe how hard it was to find a proper bunch; they've been picked over good for the last two weeks." He carefully stirred one last time before resting the lid back on. He wiped his hands on his apron and approached the dark haired woman who sat a small pouch of gold on their nightstand. He kissed her as a welcome when they were closer.

Her husband nodded to the pouch. “Assuming it went well."

She looked into his eyes but hesitated with her response. "Yes, and Yimu let me take over half the pay. We both know how much he loves the blood over coin. But due to unforeseen circumstances, I had to take off a few fingers and, well, having souvenirs was right up the employer's alley, turns out."

"How lovely," Jiyn said with a wrinkle of the nose and moved over to the cupboard where he removed bowls and cups for the meal, setting them on the table in preparation.

Shalia began to remove the leather armor. "More seasoned hires get a hunch for these things, I hear," she said with a pleased smirk. "You pick out the weirdos who will pay more for the weird things. This employer just happened to be one of them who liked grisly trophies. Though, walking around with severed body parts in my pocket is not ideal, so I'm going to need to scrub these trousers extra diligently. Could have taken it further--Yimu wanted to keep a whole hand for himself! I stopped the crazy, of course but you could see the temptation in his eyes." She chuckled and set the armor and weapons beside the stand.

“Figures,” the silver-haired man grumbled. He did not like when she took jobs with him, not out of a place of jealousy but concern. Yimu was at least twenty years her senior and had a craving for blood and suffering, and was quite unpredictable. Shalia seemed to look at him as a sort of mentor in his skill and experience, and how he was unashamed of his gruesome interests, but even then she had her limits with the way he zealously approached violence. Needlessly taking large body parts for your own personal admiration or plainly brutal torture were the line for her. By the hells, even the Wardens were a little off-put by his behavior and repeatedly warned him he was on thin ice in their ranks.

Jiyn seemed to have an expression of minor disgust and amusement when focusing on only her again. He closed the cupboard.
"You always had a taste for darker things, didn't you? Why am I not surprised you might carry around bits of people and find it humoring?"

Shalia took her clean nightgown from their dresser drawer and went toward the washroom with a gentle elbow nudge to his back. "A lady can’t keep a few teeny bones for herself without being called ‘macabre’? Such a cruel world out there for people like me," she spoke with a playfully dramatic offense. She would wash up well before dinner and finally satisfy her rumbling stomach.