Chapter 88: A Feast That Will Never Come
Arthur and Aziel approached the weathered dresser. The brass handles, once polished to a high shine, were now dull and tarnished. Arthur pulled open the top drawer with a soft creak of aged wood, revealing multiple sets of dusty folded clothes inside.
Aziel reached in and picked up one of the shirts, letting it hang loose from his fingers. He gave the garment an odd look, examining the fine but clearly aged fabric, before shrugging his shoulders with his typical nonchalance. The clothes were simple but well-made, certainly better than the tattered remains they currently wore.
They both retreated to opposite corners of the room and changed into their new attire: a white tunic tucked into black loose pants. The fabric felt strange against Arthur’s skin—clean and soft, unlike the dirt-encrusted clothes he’d grown accustomed to. He ran his hands down the front of the tunic, enjoying the simple pleasure of fresh clothing. It had been so long since he’d worn anything that wasn’t torn or stained with blood, sweat, and grime.
Arthur kept the boots he was already wearing, as they might be rather ragged but they were still intact at the least. The worn leather was molded perfectly to his feet after countless miles of walking, and breaking in new footwear was a luxury they couldn’t afford right now. He stamped his feet a couple of times, feeling the familiar comfort of his old companions.
Aziel, predictably, kept his shoeless look, his bare feet making no sound as he walked across the stone floor. To be honest, Arthur was surprised Aziel even put on the shirt, so he wasn’t going to raise a fuss about the footwear.
"Not bad," Aziel said, looking down at himself and then at Arthur. "Almost like we’re people again, not walking corpses." He grinned, the clean white of his tunic making his eyes seem even more vibrant than usual.
Once dressed, they joined the others and helped the rest of the team get packed and ready. Each member carried rather large backpacks filled with supplies—water, preserved food, medical supplies, and various tools that might prove useful. Jonas’s pack was the biggest, which made sense seeing as he himself was the biggest. His massive frame seemed hardly bothered by the weight that would have crushed a normal man.
Soon enough, they were all ready to go. After another short briefing where Lara reminded them of their objectives, they found themselves staring at the door ahead, readying themselves for what was to come.
Lara positioned herself at the front, her hand resting on the door handle. Her knuckles whitened slightly as she took a deep breath, her shoulders rising and falling with the effort to center herself.