What Are We?

Scarcely 15 minutes had passed since Frank and Sara's run-in with the horseman of death. Sara took Frank to the closest healer she knew of, even if they weren't the most experienced or reputable. She'd known this, and was prepared to pay whatever cost was asked of her, but the process had gone unexpectedly smoothly.   She'd landed in front of the old lady's establishment while carrying Frank on a dinner-table-sized cutting board. The old woman's eyes widened, as if in recognition, then beckoned her inside.   Sara never actually spoke; the old woman merely hefted the board and its contents from Sara with strength and vigor unbefitting of her apparent age and stature, and set them on her kitchen counter.   Sara's expression tensed, and the woman merely chucked, "What's so strange about a cutting board on a kitchen counter?" The woman then looked Frank over. "Oh? a magi? This both raises questions and answers most." The old woman turned to Sara, "What manner of thing caused a magi this level of injury? And you.... I'm guessing you just found out about your... affinity?"   "Frank, a magi? I don't believe that's possible. Also, what affinity?"   The old woman tilted her head, "A bit slow on the uptake, are we? Fine, answer my question, and I'll answer yours. Who or what hurt him like that?"   Sara shuddered, both at the severity with which the woman asked the question and at the memory of the thing they'd encountered. "There was a man clad in flames and black armor. He was very powerful, and it felt like his attacks drained mana. He had a horse also covered in armor and flames."   The old woman nodded, "You could've just said 'the horseman of War,' you know." She shrugged and waved her arms over Frank. As she did so, his visible wounds healed. She continued this process for a few moments before sighing tiredly, "The internal damage will take some time. Would you like some tea while we wait? Though I don't think I could prepare anything as good as the Magi of Feast."   Sara responded with a raised eyebrow, "You mean to say that we fought a horseman and survived, and that Frank is the Magi of Feast?"   "You forgot the part where you're the Sin of Gluttony. How else could you explain it? No mere mortal or mage can stand against a horseman, or any other legendary entity for that matter."   "How..."   "Am I more aware of your abilities than you are? Of course, we Sins recognize each other, and the Magi. I've clearly been around for a long time, but also far longer than my apparent age would suggest. We also have our affinities to Magi as well. You are best suited to the Magi of Feast, and I, the Magi of Peace, though I do not dislike the Magi of Feast. After all, sloth comes after a feast, does it not?"   Sara could only stand in a stupor. "So... I like him because I'm... the Sin of Gluttony?" She felt an aversion to merely speaking those words, as if bile were collecting in her throat.   "You heard another voice, felt another consciousness, right? That was Gluttony. You are you. You can get along... or not. You may even assimilate, but you are distinctly different."   A quiet sigh of relief escaped Sara's lips. It did not go unnoticed. "And... Frank, does he have any 'affinities' I should know of?"   "A worrisome child you are. No. He is as much himself as you are yourself. You're not a child, and I'm not going to walk you through your feelings. I'm the Sin of Sloth, and that sounds a lot like unnecessary work for me.   "But..."   "As pleased as I am to meet a reasonable Sin, and not Wrath, I only have so many spoonfuls of effort to offer, and your incessant questions have used a majority of them. Ask another, and I'll throw your precious Magi out." The old woman had absolutely no intention of being so cold, and literally throwing him out was still 'effort' on her part, but even if Sara would pick up on this, it would still be sufficient to silence her.   The hollow threat served its purpose and Sara immediately silenced herself.   "That's better. Enjoy your tea. The boy should be fine soon, though he'll probably be asleep for a few hours, at least."   Sara wordlessly finished her tea, and didn't speak again aside from thanking the old woman and saying goodbye after collecting her cuttingboard and Frank.   She stopped at a convience store, drawing all sorts of questionable looks while casually jolding a person on a cutting board in the airas if it were a serving trey of pastries, but she sheugged them off, and glared at anyone who stared too hard.   She then took to the sky, gliding to the place she went when she was upset. Normally, she'd come alone and on foot, drawing much less attention to herself, but the stares stopped as she got farther from the city and outright stopped as she reached the outskirts of town.   Orange sun rays shinned down on Sara as she set down the cutting board. She released her magic, allowing the cutting board to return to its normal size, leaving Frank sleeping on the grass, which was admittedly probably more comfortable than his makeshift bed of the last few hours.   Sara unrapped a conveience store hotdog and took a bite. Hunger had overriden reason, as she'd normally never eat anything 'cooked' in a convience store. She grimaced at the comparison of flavor between this abomonation on a bun and the memory of lunch at Frank's one day, when he made her and Ray hotdogs. It was a meat that she couldnt identify, and at this point didnt want to, on breat that somehw sll have teh texture of a dry sponge while also being soaked by the oil from the meat. She twisted open one of the bottles of water she'd brought, taking a big gulp in an attempt to wash away her disappointment. The taste lingered, as did her regret after she'd realized she'd eaten 4 bites of the thing. She downed more water as she steeled her resolve for the challenge that was the last 2 bites.   Every chew as utter agony, and after her 5th chew on that second to last bite, she ripped open the bag containing the store's contents and pulled out a battle of apple whiskey. She'd never been much of a drinker, but she remembered Frank liked it, and although whiskey was a bit strong for her tasstes, she loved apple. She thought it a fair enough compromise as she opened the bottle and took not a sip, but a rather sizable gulp. This turned out to be a completely different sort of agony from the hotdog. It burned her throat. She seemed to have gotten sme in her nose, and it was stronger than expected. She coughed and sputtered, smacking her chest to get the hotdog down and to distract from the sting of the alcohol.   She paused as a groan from Frank pulled her attention from her compunded misery, and she glanced over. He was looking at her in confusion. Her cheeks redenned as she muttered the question "How... long have you been awake?"   Frank tried to sit up and she ran to support him, "About the point when you ripped open the bag like it personally offended you."   "No, it wasn't the bag. It was the damn hotdog! I... i mean... ugh, tht's unfortunate." She pulled him close, "I'm glad you're alright, and... thank you."   Frank was likely bewildered, though she couldn't care less at the moment, putting strength it to her support/hug of the man who'd put his life on tehline to protect her.   "I should be thanking you, shouldn't I? Wasn't that a horseman we fought? How are we not dead? Actually, where are we?"   "There's a place I like to go when I've had a bad day, or am going through a rough patch. It's on the outskirts of town, and that's where we are now." She wiped the acohol taht she coudl feel trying to trip down out of her mouth.   "There's.... a lot to unpack there. How'd we even ge here? Why'd you bring me? How'd we survive a runin with a horseman?"   Sara sighed deeply and took a much smaller gulp of whiskey. "I flew us here, and i broht you here... just... because...." She could feel hr face heat up, but she shook it off, "As for that last question... I have to ask first... Frank... what are we?"   Frank tilted his head in confusion. "Not 'who are we', or some question about a specific person, but 'what are we'?" He paused, the buried his face in his hands as he glanced at her. he grabbed teh bottle from her and took a large gulp, then a second. "haaah, 2 for courage." He steadied hsi breathing and sat himself up, as Sara released him. "That question is laoded as fuck. What do you think we are?"   "I don't even know anymore..."   "I suppose that's why you asked. I'm pretty sure we're friends, at least i'd hope so at this point. If we'e mor than that, its news to me... not that i'm against the idea...." Frank stammered these words and paused, catching himself. "This is what I meant by the question is laoded. What way are we talking here?"   "We survived an encounter with one of the horseman. The lady who healed me said no mere mortal or mage can stand against them. You did, and then..."   "...and then...?"   "I... changed, I charged at him. He... backed off."   "...huh? How'd you change?"   "I...don't want to say. Also, that woman said you're a Magi, specifically the Magi of Feast."   Frank's espression hardened as he gazed upon Sara. "That's not the first time iv'e been told that, and today was the best evidince of it. had I been essentially anything less, I'd be dead i'm sure. Let's say I am, then what? What'll you do?"   "What kind of question is that? I'm not going anywhere. You've already won my stomach ya know."   Frank sat stunned for a moment. "Yay....?"   Sara lightly smacked him, "What are you making me say?!"   "Literally none of this is my fault!"   Sara snatched the battle from Frank, took anoehr sip, then turned red-faced yet again, before shoving the bottle back into his hands. "I meant... what kind of creatures are we? We fought a legend, a creature of nightmare, and lived to tell the story."   "Well, i'm apparently a Magi. You choose to remain anonymous."   "...You won't run if i tell you, right...?"   "No. you havent freaked out at the fact that i'm allegidy a Magi, and you stayed and protected me when the horseman put me on my ass. Unless you're an eldridge horror hellbent on devouring me and the world, or something like that, i'm no going anywhere."   "Funny you should say that..."   Frank's face paled, "Wait... you are?!"   "Not quite. I'm a Sin, specifically the Sin of Gluttony."   Frank stared at her for a moment, and broke into a grin. The grin lasted for but a omoment befoe it became laughter, which grew more and moer histarical by th second. "Hahaha... you mean.... you're... haha... Gluttony? That's fuckin.... hahahaha... perfect!"   "What?!"   "I'm literally the Magi of Feast! hahaha! What bettr place is thre for you? hahahaha!"   Sara's jaw fell open and her mind went blank for a moment. Somone could've shoved another hotdog in thre and she wouldn't have noticed for a few seconds at best, before turning her gaze toward teh sunset. Frank finally controlled himself and followed her gaze as they looked over teh hillside covered in wildflowers taht matchd the settign sun. Sara's mutter was lost on the wind, "not against the idea... huh?"...