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Zestasia was experiencing a feeling he hadn’t felt in quite some time.

As the group approached their destination, the presence of magic felt thick and it filled him up in a unique sense. Every hair on his body felt like an individual trigger that could explode upon his command. He felt hot, like all of the heat inside his body wanted to concentrate at the edge of his fingertips, as if they wanted to circulate in the palm of his hand. Zestasia felt like every impulse that was usually suppressed and controlled by a conscious wanted to disobey everything within him and rain fire on anything that threatened him.

For the first time in nearly five years, memories flooded his mind of a time where control of his emotions was just as likely as him having a good idea were.

Though he found it difficult, Zestasia stuck close to his brother, finding comfort in the man. He always had. Even if the memories were tainted by the many battles that plagued Hellion, Zestasia held onto the cherished moments spent with Pagonia, spent with Ouranós. That in itself was enough to keep the fire in his belly under control. [i]For now.[/i]

His anxious hands dug deep into the pockets of his sapphire-blue jacket and he simply kept silent, which might be a first for him. Truth be told, he just didn’t want to annoy anyone and risk losing any semblance of control he had momentarily gained, but when Pythia had asked about the plan, she presented two options. Had it been any other time, he knew which one [i]he[/i] preferred, but recent developments turned Zestasia’s go-to as the worst-case.

[color=daa520]“We should try and be cautious about this,”[/color] he said. What he really wanted to admit was how afraid he felt right now and that standing next to his brother wasn’t enough to fully contain the unrelenting feeling in his gut to set anything and everything he saw ablaze in golden fire. [color=daa520]“At least until we find who we’ve come to kill and roast that bastard alive!”[/color][/indent][/indent][/indent][/color]