"Zeice...."
"Yes..."
"Do you love me? I mean, truly love me?"
"What do you think?"
"My heart says yes..."
"Then trust it, as you would a quiet whisper in the stillness of the night."
A gentle breeze stirred, brushing their faces with the soft caress of the morning, carrying with it a whisper of the world awakening around them.
Having breathed in the warmth of Zeice's home, they now moved toward the unspoken rhythm of the day that awaited them.
The world outside was steady, a familiar companion to their footsteps as they began their journey.
Cardfore University, the place where they sought knowledge in every form, was the anchor of their days, their shared voyage into the deep waters of learning.
Twenty-four moons had passed since they set sail, yet the tides still pulled them forward, faithfully, endlessly.
Together, they traversed the streets leading to the university, the grand structure of wisdom growing ever nearer, its silhouette cutting through the morning mist like a silent sentinel watching over their shared future.
With each step, their presence seemed to dissolve into the world around them, as if their existence had become one with the air itself, seen only by the smallest of creatures and felt only by the whispers of the earth beneath their feet.
And then, just as they were about to take another step, a voice, rich and deep, broke through the quiet morning like a thunderclap.
They stopped, exchanging a glance that spoke volumes, before turning in unison toward the source of the interruption.
"Zeice Robert..."
"The Last Ink..."
Zeice found himself struck still, as though plucked from his reality and dropped into another.
The man who had uttered his name seemed to possess an unsettling knowledge of everything.
"Excuse me?" Zeice asked, his voice tinged with both intrigue and doubt.
"Rodney McKenna," the man replied, his tone calm but carrying a weight of certainty.
Zeice, unfamiliar with the name, raised a brow, "Do we... know each other?"
Rodney gave a slow, deliberate nod, "Perhaps not by my birth name. But my pen name... 'Furious'..."
"Furious...? The character? The one who fought against plagiarism?" Zeice's voice wavered with disbelief, his mind struggling to reconcile the familiar name with the stranger before him.
Rodney's lips curled into a smile, a knowing glint in his eyes, "Precisely. Meet me after you've taken in some knowledge today. The location is yours to decide."
"Drost Café, four o'clock," Zeice answered almost instinctively, his thoughts racing even as he continued his walk toward Cardfore University.
"Don't be late," Rodney called after him, his voice warm with a strange camaraderie.
Zeice, without turning, offered a quiet nod, acknowledging the encounter as he continued on his way.
Fleurine, who had been silent through it all, broke the quiet with a soft question.
"Your colleague?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper.
Zeice turned to her, offering a brief nod, "Someone whose fate aligns with mine," he said, his words laced with an almost cryptic meaning.
Fleurine seemed to understand, her gaze thoughtful.
She offered no further words as they walked, their steps leading them toward separate paths.
"Are you sure you won't come?" Zeice asked before parting ways, his voice laced with concern.
"I wouldn't comprehend the struggle between two masters of words," Fleurine replied with a trace of uncertainty, as though torn between her desire to stay and the feeling that her place was elsewhere.
"I'll return home later."
"Let me know if you change your mind!" Zeice called over his shoulder, his words floating on the breeze as he left her behind.
As Zeice continued down the path, his mind became a maelstrom of thoughts. And this time, his thoughts were consumed by one question.
'Furious?'
'I've always been struck by the way you fight,' Zeice mused inwardly, his heart stirring with an emotion he couldn't quite name.
*****
(Drost Café, 03:50 pm)
The door swung open with a soft chime, greeted by the warm smile of a young woman, Daniella Stones, the cashier at Drost Café.
"Table seven, this time," she said succinctly. "He's been here for almost an hour," she added.
Zeice flashed a smile, "Thank you... For your affection..." he replied, before making his way to table number seven.
Daniella was taken aback, her heart racing, and her cheeks flushed with warmth.
'At last... He knows,' Daniella mused silently, releasing a breath she hadn't realised she was holding.
'There will be no more hidden truths when faced by a literature student,' she continued, a faint smile curling on her lips.
*****
"Tell me, Zeice! Do you feel broken?" Rodney asked immediately as Zeice settled into his seat.
"You should know better than anyone, Rod," Zeice responded, his words curt.
The two men sat in silence for a moment, their piercing gazes locked, as though in the next few seconds, they would wage war against each other, united by a single purpose, to preserve their lives.
"For our destruction!" Rodney declared, raising his glass in a toast.
"For a new beginning after destruction!" Zeice countered, his eyes distant, haunted by the past.
Rodney's gaze held steady, the fire within his eyes never fading.
Amidst the gentle clinking of stainless steel and the soft rattle of cups in Drost Café, the conversation between the two men became louder than all the noise of the world around them.
Zeice set his coffee cup down, gazing at the dark liquid, rippling gently as though seeking answers within it.
"Rod, I've allowed it for far too long... Letting the words I've crafted with blood and breath be stolen by those who have no claim to them," he said, his voice a whisper, but resolute.
Rodney nodded, a bitter smile tugging at his lips, "We're not just fighters, Zeice... We are the architects of fate, the sculptors of the world, with ink and meaning."
"And now, they want to steal that world from us, to claim it without shedding a drop of sweat."
Zeice lifted his gaze, his sharp green eyes fixed intently on Rodney, "What do you have?"
Rodney leaned back in his chair, his hands clasped together on the table, casting long shadows under the dim café lights.
"I've gathered a few names. They are authors who share our struggle."
"They, these people, are the ones whose works have been plagiarised, twisted, and outright stolen, with not the faintest shred of recognition."
Zeice sighed, "The word thieves hide behind screens, using tricks to obscure their tracks, sheltering under a system that blinds justice."
Rodney tapped his fingers rhythmically on the table, "And we will be the shadows that haunt them. We will peel away their lies, shatter the chains they've forged, and reveal their true faces to the world."
Zeice narrowed his eyes, "Hmm? You have a plan?"
Rodney's grin widened, faint but knowing, "A publication. Not just any publication. We will write their story, the story of the word thieves, in such undeniable detail that they cannot escape it."
"We will reveal who they are, how they operate, and expose them for the liars they are, borrowed pens, stolen words."
Zeice fell silent for a moment, a sly smile spreading across his face, "A resistance on our own turf... A word against the word mafia."
Rodney nodded, "And more than that, we will build a sanctuary for true writers."
"A place where every work is protected, a haven where the essence of literature is safeguarded with its full dignity."
Zeice stared out of the window, watching the twilight sky blaze with the last vestiges of daylight, its fiery hues stretching across the horizon.
"A revolution in literacy... A revolution against the word mafia," he murmured, almost to himself.
Rodney raised his cup once more, a small, almost wistful smile playing at his lips, "For those who have lost their voice... We will return it!"
Zeice raised his own cup, inhaling the calming aroma of the dark liquid, letting it fill his lungs before speaking the final words of the evening.
"For the immortality of words..."
Once again, the sound of clinking cups echoed through the café.
The quiet of the afternoon would bear witness to their vow, etched in silence.
The night returned, the moon shining bright in the sky once more.
The sounds of nocturnal creatures rose in the distance, a peaceful hum settling over the world as the evening took its place.
The silent oath between two warriors of the written word came to an end that day. Rodney, having filled Zeice's mind with his latest plans, returned to his own affairs.
"Your friend... gave quite a speech today," Daniella remarked, approaching the table where Rodney had just sat.
"His spirit..." Zeice nodded thoughtfully, a flicker of admiration for Rodney passing across his face.
"You could do that too... And more," Daniella responded, walking away from table seven, carrying two empty cups that had once held the soul-soothing liquid.
Before she left, Daniella cast one last glance over her shoulder, "If love no longer holds you, I promise, I'll replace it..." she said softly, then resumed her work.