Lonely Day - Chapter 11: Two

It was still raining when Giorno and Fugo arrived at the Inn of Ill Omen. They got off the horse.

“I think we might end up in the same room from that day,” Giorno said. “Go to the basement.”

“No, what if someone is there?” Fugo panicked. “Maybe we should go to a different inn. This one is too close to Bravil.”

“I can see the other inn from here. You have nothing to fear. Maybe we should go in together. I’ll rent a room both of us can share.”

“Yeah, I think that’s a good idea. Let’s go.”

The regulars were inside the inn, and the two blonds approached Manheim Maulhand, renting a room. They got the room Fugo and Trish had when they were here last.

Giorno changed into something comfortable and noticed Fugo still wore that skin-tight armor. “You aren’t going to change?”

“This is comfortable to sleep in,” Fugo lied. The light armor was tight around his rear. “I might need this in case anything happens.”

“You sound like we’re going to die.”

“You never know.”

The blond was worried for him. However, there was nothing he could do, so he sat on the double bed. “Come rest with me,” he said, lying down. Perhaps cuddling in bed will ease him, he thought.

Fugo placed his bag near the bed. “Sure.” He got on the bed, and when he was sure Giorno wasn’t looking, he took his ebony dagger and hid it under the pillows.

Giorno fell asleep first. After an hour of watching the shadows, the Imperial finally grew weary and closed his eyes.

-

When they both woke up in the morning, the air chilled, and a wraith appeared, dagger in hand.

Giorno shook the slumbering Fugo. “What is that? Wake up!” He shook him. “Come on!”

“Wha—shit!”

He took out his ebony dagger and stabbed it, but it did nothing. Giorno cast a fire spell, hitting it, but then the wraith silenced him. They both moved out of the bed before it could hit them with its dagger. Fugo finished it off with a fireball.

“What was that?” Giorno asked.

“It’s—don’t worry about it. It’s dead,” Fugo answered. “We should get out of here.”

The Breton examined the fire still burning the dresser, rug, and blanket. “That’s probably a good idea.”

They rode on Star and made their way to the Imperial City. Gray clouds rolled above their heads. Fugo tried to get a good view of the city to cheer himself up, but the winds blew Giorno’s hair in the way.

“Giorno—ah! Yuck!” Hair had gotten in his mouth. “You forgot to tie your hair.”

“Braid it for me.”

“Do I look like I know how to braid hair?”

“I’ll get Trish to do it for me.”

Once they reached the stables and went into the city, they headed straight for the Arcane University. Even inside the city, the winds still blew everything in the way. Aside from the weather, hardly anyone was outside, probably thinking it would rain again.

The two blonds were in the Imperial Arboretum, holding each other's hands and heading to the Arcane University until someone they recognized stopped them.

“Stop!” Narancia said. The cheerful Wood Elf looked gloomy. He then looked at the Breton. “Oh, hey, Giorno! What’re you doing with Fugo? Wait, Fugo, when did you change your armor?”

“Good morning,” Giorno said. “He and I are—”

Fugo didn’t realize he had on his shrouded armor. “We’re going to the Arcane University. As for the armor—” He couldn’t think of an excuse. “It was nice seeing you again, but we should tell Trish we’re back.”

Narancia frowned. “Trish is dead.”

Fugo’s mouth almost made a frown. “What?”

The Wood Elf avoided making eye contact. “Somebody killed her last night. The whole city has been talking about her murder.”

“Who?” Giorno asked. His arms shook, and he tried to hold on tightly to Fugo’s hand.

“Nobody knows,” the Wood Elf answered.

Fugo let go of the Breton’s hand and dashed towards the Arcane University. Giorno chased after him. As for Narancia, he went back home.trailed

When they reached the university, twice as many guards patrolled the grounds, and mages of all ranks gossiped. Raminus Polus stood outside the lobby doors, his face with a frown.

Fugo’s heart beat rapidly. “How’s Trish?”

Raminus looked at the two blonds. “It’s best if you come inside.”

Inside, Tar-Meena and a guard sat on a bench.

“Tar-Meena, would you tell these two what happened?” Raminus asked.

“Certainly, once I returned to the archives to check on any missing books before bed. But once I got there, I smelled something burning and rushed to find Trish’s body. I—her face—” The Argonian hugged herself. “I can’t. I’m sorry. You don’t want to know the details. I’m so sorry for your loss.”

“Cannolo Murolo, your turn,” Raminus said.

“I wasn’t in the archives. I was guarding the area. I saw a blond guy with Trish inside, but when he got out of the archives, she wasn’t with him. I didn’t think much of it. Tar-Meena went into the archives and left, screaming, telling me what happened. I know the blond guy murdered her! I tried to search for him, but I didn’t know where he went.”

“Did this guy have four knots behind his head and have blue eyes?” Fugo asked.

“Yes.”

Giorno looked at his lover, knowing who he was describing.

Fugo clenched his fists. Prosciutto. He left the lobby, slamming and almost damaging the door on his way out.

“Wait!” Giorno shouted.

He didn’t stop until they were at the bridge to the Arboretum. He didn’t face him.

“This is all your fault!” Fugo shouted.

“How, exactly?” Giorno asked. Trish’s death hit him hard too. He crossed his arms, angered and upset.

Fugo turned around and faced him. “You had Trish join the Mages Guild. She would’ve been safe at home if she didn't join.”

“I didn’t force her to join. It was her choice.”

Fugo stood silent for a few seconds. “You and I, we’re done.” The Imperial’s eyes were teary. “Don’t bother looking for me. There’s something I have to finish.”

He ran off. Giorno would’ve chased him, but the wind blew a Grey Fox poster into his face. He looked at it, realizing he should’ve focused on his original task: finding the Grey Fox. Then he remembered how Trish couldn’t find her dad. Giorno had the same struggles when he cast the clairvoyance to search for the Grey Fox. He knew there had to be some sort of enchantment to keep him from finding the wearer.

Wait!

Before Giorno could connect the dots, somebody hit him in the head, knocking him out cold.

-

Fugo was at the Imperial City’s stables when he spotted somebody familiar.

“It’s been a while,” Sorbet spoke. A smile was on his face. Knowing him, he probably did something sick and sadistic. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you upset before.” He giggled.

“Go away.” The Imperial wiped his tears.

“Will’s planning to head to Skyrim soon,” he informed him. “I’d hurry if I were you.”

“Yes, yes, I’ll hurry!” Fugo said as he walked towards Raven, Trish’s horse.

“I don’t think you’re encouraged enough to kill him.”

“Relax, I know what happens when you break the tenets.” He got on the horse.

“About that, we know you killed Vicente. Illuso’s not happy about that.”

“So what? People die.” He was about to ride out. After this, he was going to kill Prosciutto and then alert the guards about the hideout in Cheydinhal.

“Wait!” Sorbet stopped him. “We have Giorno.”

“What?” Fugo got off the horse and rammed the Wood Elf’s body against the city wall, squeezing and grabbing his neck. “Do you want to die?”

“Kill me…” he struggled to speak, “and you kill him!”

The Imperial let go of him. “Piece of shit! Go!”

“Finish the job!” Sorbet yelled before leaving.

Fugo got on the horse again, casting the clairvoyance spell while heading to Bruma. Gripping on the reins tightly, he shifted his weight forward, making the horse speed up. Eventually, he caught up to Will, traveling with two others on the Silver Road.

Blinded by rage and tears, Fugo jumped off his horse and stabbed Will repeatedly, painting his white coat red. Will would’ve cast a spell to get him off, but the poison on his daggers kept him from casting a spell.

“Fugo?” Straizo called out. “What are you doing? Dire, do something!”

The chiseled, blond man with a widow’s peak grabbed Fugo, casting a shock spell when he grabbed both his arms, causing him to drop his dagger onto the ground.

“Don’t touch me!”

Fugo had a flashback where he was alone in the archives with a mage who helped him with illusion spells. The mage was middle-aged to elderly, and he grabbed his shoulders, casting a charm spell.

The Imperial got off Will’s body and stood up, Dire still grabbing him.

“Don’t...”

Fugo harshly stomped his foot repeatedly onto Dire’s foot until he let go.

“Charm me...”

He grabbed his dagger from the ground.

“Ever again!”

Fugo slit Dire’s throat, got back on his horse, and left, heading to Cheydinhal.

Straizo rushed to Will’s body, but he was already dead. He then tried to heal Dire’s wounds, but the poison did more damage, eventually killing the blond man. The long-haired brunet rushed to find a guard.

-

Giorno awoke, vision blurred. He wiggled his arms, but somebody chained him. Casting a spell didn’t work, and where ever he was, the lighting was dim. He tried focusing on any sounds.

“I thought Fugo loved Trish,” said a voice.

“I thought so too, but I saw him kissing the guy below,” spoke another. “The three have kissed each other.”

“And that’s okay?”

“Apparently. Anyways, we should go check on him.”

Something near him opened. It was something above. He tried to focus on the source of the noise. His vision cleared, revealing a trap door. He examined the room, looking at the green rug, the large iron door in front, and the chairs stacked on the table to the left. There was also a stone bed.

A blond Wood Elf dropped down to the floor along with a black-haired one. They wore the same outfit Fugo had on. Giorno began shaking.

“Nervous, aren’t we?” the blond said.

“Hmm, he doesn’t seem special. What do you do?” asked the black-haired one.

“I can heal others,” Giorno answered.

“That’s it?”

“I can steal and stuff my entire ear into my ear canal.”

“Sorbet, darling, I have to see that! Can we release him?” the blond asked.

“Sweetheart, hush!”

A Khajiit in dark green robes opened the door. “Fugo is back.” He then looked a Giorno, flattening his ears and exposing his sharp teeth. “Release him and return him to him.”

Already? Giorno wasn’t sure when he got here, but he feels he’s barely been here. He was sure they would torture him, but they left him unscathed except for the bonk in his head when they dragged him here.

“He works fast under pressure. We should do this to lazy recruits.” Sorbet unlocked the chains, freeing the Breton.

“We get to see him do it!” the blond cheered. “Please, can you do it before leaving? I promise not to kill you if I see you.”

Giorno folded his ears into his ear canal, causing the blond Wood Elf to squeal in delight.

The Khajiit’s pupils narrowed with his ears up and forward. “Intriguing, but highly disturbing. Can he go now?”

“If you tell the guards about this place, we’ll know,” Sorbet warned him. “You’ll see him on the way out.”

Giorno went out of the room, ending up in the hallway. He walked forward, ignoring the other door to the right, knowing it wasn’t the exit. To the left was a big room where he could see Fugo and the way out.

“Giorno!” the golden blond shouted. He ran to hug him, giving him a tight squeeze. “Are you alright? Did they do anything to you?”

“I thought you and I were no more,” the Breton reminded him.

“I didn’t mean that!”

“Could you two leave now?” Sorbet asked.

“No contracts for me?” Fugo said. “Why spare Giorno? I know who killed Trish. Why?”

“Because nobody wanted him dead, but somebody wanted her dead.”

“Why?”

“How should I know?”

“Fugo, we should leave,” Giorno said.

They left the sanctuary, ending up in the Cheydinhal basement. Fugo held onto Giorno’s hand tightly. They found some crates to sit on, but he never let go of the Breton’s hand.

“I love you,” the Imperial said.

“And I love you too,” Giorno replied, “but shouldn’t we leave? Let’s head back to the Arcane University.”

“About that. I’m not welcomed anymore. I killed Will along with somebody else. There was another person, but I didn’t kill him. I should’ve. Damn it! I’m wanted for murder. The guards are probably looking for me.”

“Then we need to keep moving. The battlemages might try to find us.”

“Where will we go?” the Imperial asked. “There’s nowhere we can hide. They’ll just use clairvoyance.”

Clairvoyance, Giorno thought. “Do you remember that cave near Skingrad?”

“Where we met your father, the vampire, yeah. Why?”

“He will protect us.”

Fugo let go of his hand and stood up. “A vampire? Are you insane?”

The Breton furrowed his brows. “Are you judging me? I’ve known you were an assassin for a while, even before this. This is the best way for us to survive.”

“We’ll have to avoid the sun and drink blood. Is that the life you want?”

“I want a life with you. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me.” Giorno looked at his lover’s locks, noticing small strands of white hair. “Your hair’s turning white.”

“It is? Hmm, maybe I should get a mirror. I’ve been under a lot of stress, I guess. Anyways, do you know where to find him?”

“Yeah, but we should get out of here.”

“Let me change into less suspicious clothes. I have a red velvet outfit I could wear. I’m not sure if the guards here are aware of my crimes, though.”

“Alright. We’ll head out to the closest gate.”

Fugo changed his clothes. “The one leading to the Nibenay Basin? That’s where my horse is.”

“My horse! He’s still at the stables.”

“Star? Oddly, your horse was at that gate. Maybe he knew you were there.”

“Let’s just head outside.”

The two stood outside the city of Cheydinhal with their horses. Giorno cast the clairvoyance spell, leading north. “We have to go north.”

“Will was heading to Skyrim. Do you think—”

“That he was hunting him? Yes. Maybe it was a good idea that you killed him. I’ll have to cast the spell to find exactly where he is. Let’s ride!”