Twenty one. He had turned twenty one today.
To any normal human in the entire world, this meant one thing: free to drink without having the law to watch them, legally becoming an adult, and being allowed to do whatever the hell they wanted to do. What a mileage point, to become as crazy and acting as mature as they thought a sophisticated grown-up should be like. Only to remember the financial issues stabbing them right in the back because of university, obtaining an overpriced education that they could've gotten at any old community college. Prices kept rising and inflation was only making matters worse and here they were in the present day, where a simple T-shirt could cost more than fifty bucks. There was nothing special about the age. It was overhyped and everyone made too much of a big deal out of it. Just another day that he didn't want to celebrate - a waste of time and resources. There was nothing special about the day a person was born; it was shared with millions of other people.
But apparently, that wasn't going to happen. Spending his day at work was a complete "no". He had been sent away without giving him any task or mission or any other kind of assignment and hanging around his colleagues was something he didn't feel like doing. They were all insane, rowdy, and pathetic. All of the things they talked about or tried to bring up were a complete headache that weren't worth trying to converse about. Somehow, Riley of all people knew what the day was and did not help with the matters at all. "Go home to your family for the day" she had said with her blank state face, sitting on the red velvet throne of gold and diamonds at the Royal Palace in Norway. Now that she wasn't allowed to leave, the helicopter was supposedly in his care. Too bad he never bothered to try and learn it.
So here he was, sitting on the leathery cushion in the back seat with one of Argona's lackeys at the front and piloting him back from his station in South Dakota back to Europe, back to Italy. The whirring of the blades and the rather strong force of wind was not helping with the most comfortable flight and he sure as hell didn't trust the pilot... or rather, the man sitting in front was a fine pilot. He was rather crazy and annoying however and he was a headache. For all of the loyalty he had displayed for her Highness, this was what he got in return? His new friend was one step closer to getting his skull bashed into his head every time he spoke.
"I heard it was your birthday today, man. Happy birthday!" This was the fifth time he had tried to create some kind of conversation with Warren. The masked man could only detect sycophancy. Lower ranked members always seemed to try and use whatever opportunity they could to get on the good side of superiors. Too bad he didn't have a good side that wasn't reserved for only two people in existence.
Warren didn't try to answer, his eyes wandering towards the blue sea below and the waves of clouds that surrounded them. How much longer...?
Nervous was practically written all over the other man's face and his voice was shaky, almost hesitant. "Heh, whatever." One hand had lifted from the stirring device to rub the back of his head, a laugh in an attempt to brush it off. "So what else is new?" A long pause commenced and Warren didn't bother to listen into what the man was saying as he rambled on and on about something that wasn't anything useful. "I heard that Riley and the others were successful back in Norway. Fixing up the place, converting everyone to Argona's side. Yeah, it's looking real good. They'll be able to finish the job no problem." More chuckling and he could feel his hand reaching for any kind of knife that might be tucked away in his pockets.
"I hope you're not trying to waste my time here."
"Huh? What, no man! 'course not. Want to ensure a pleasant trip for my superior is all."
Warren's arms were crossed in front of him, eyebrows only taut slightly in minor annoyance. "If you're trying to kiss ass, I recommend you shut up." There wasn't anymore conversation after that, and he was definitely grateful for it. Hell, even more appreciative that his house was in view and the helicopter was beginning its descent down towards the ground. After what seemed like an eternity of hovering a few inches off the grass, it landed and he wasted no time getting off and walking towards the entrance.
In front of him was a church, one simple in design with the purest of white painted on each and every wall, dark blue bordering on black tiled-roofs with a large pointed pillar for the bell that was used in ancient times to signal deaths, times of mourning, and every curfew or mass that was to begin and end. The maroon red door beckoned him, the building in top condition as always. She was doing a pleasant job keeping everything neat and tidy while he was away, wasn't she? Without caring to knock or give any gesture that there was someone outside, his hand reached for the handle and pulled the heavy door open, sunlight washing into the cathedral.
This place may have been his sleeping chambers and prison before, but yet, it wound up becoming his safe haven and the one place he could constantly seek refuge. All of the wooden pews were still in top condition, books filed away where Bibles once were. The altar itself seemed to remain almost untouched and mosaics splashed with vibrant colors filled every inch of what would've been a rather dull establishment. Sharp green eyes scanned the vicinity for any sign of life, his footsteps echoing about, almost too loudly for his liking. Where were they? Did Argona go back on her promise and they were taken? There wasn't anybody around, so that could only mean one thing.
Finding himself in front of another door, he knocked on it gently with an eccentric rhythm. Morse code. Something that they had come up with on their own, in the case that something went wrong. The door was locked on the inside and once he finished and took a step back, there was a click! and it crept open cautiously. A young woman was on the other side, milky brown hair and bright, innocent almond eyes had locked with his and after a few moments, her arms were wrapped around his neck in a warm embrace that didn't make him attempt to flinch back. "You're back!" She was always so energetic and full of life, something that seemed to be dead within him.
"I apologize for not speaking about my arrival sooner." If he knew her well enough, she would scold him for his 'stuffy, formal' language as soon as he finished speaking. Warren entwined his arms around her waist, drawing her closer to him. "How is she?"
He was right.
The woman had taken a step backwards, hands on her hips with so much as a huff in what seemed to be mock annoyance. "Can't you speak casually with me? We've known each other for years now."
Guiltily, he held his hands up, almost as though he were surrendering to a cop who had caught a criminal redhanded in the middle of their act, the lights flashing all of the attention to them and they were being held at gunpoint. There wasn't anyway that he could refuse what she asked of him. Something in the way she spoke or looked at him with those gleaming, shining irises forced him to comply. Must be why women played the role of seductresses or witches in most media, past and future. "Anna, my love?"
"Oh, yes!" Her eyes widened owlishly, a grin stretching across her features in the most enthusiastic manner possible. "Judith is doing wonderfully. Also..." She jabbed him at the side a little with a teasing smile as he lowered his arms. "She wants to tell her father something~"
Warren couldn't help but sigh a little. A warning tone had snuck into his voice. "Anna..."
She was playing innocent. "Yes?"
"You didn't spend the entire morning trying to teach her how to say 'happy birthday', did you?"
Whistling, whistling. While it was clear that she was lying - she knew it and he knew as well -, he was playing with her. Perhaps a little sacrifice wouldn't hurt if it meant seeing his beloved smile some more. "Maybe. You'll have to witness it yourself." Without another word, his wife had pushed him into the room, the cradle with a toddler shying close to her second birthday was standing there, arms outstretched and reaching for him. He had picked her up, the weight so much as light as a feather, and tiny, bubbly eyes were looking up at him.
"Daddy!"
The tiniest of smiles crept up onto his lips with the next words he heard. "Ha... happy... birth? Birthday!"
"Happy birthday, Warren. I love you."
