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The wind smelled like pears and fresh dirt. I sat on the broken crate behind my favorite abandoned house, watching light filter through like a canopy of sunshine.
He was supposed to meet me here, said he’d bring back something sweet this time. Maybe real honey bread. Maybe an orange.
He’ll be here this time. I'm sure of it.
I waited.
And waited.
The sun crept behind the trees. The wind shifted colder. Shadows stretched long across the grass, and the dancing lights faded into dusk.
He just got caught up on the job. He’ll be here any minute.
I hugged my knees tighter, jaw locked.
I waited until night fell in dark shadows.
“He forgot,” I whispered, as if saying it would make it less painful. “He always forgets, or maybe he doesn’t care.”
My stomach growled, but I didn’t move. I didn’t cry either. I just stayed there, still as stone, letting the silence swallow me whole.
And then… I heard something faint and distant. Somewhere through the trees, from the direction of the hills.
“Remy!”
Not the person I was waiting for. Not anyone I knew. Just my name, floating through the spring air like it had gotten lost on the way to someone else. I turned toward it, but there was nothing. No one.
Just me.
Hungry and alone… again.
                                         ...
I woke up in pain and darkness.
Not a sting or a throb, this was deeper. A full-body ache, like I’d been wrung out and dropped. My chest burned with every breath. My arms, my legs, even my teeth hurt.
I tried to move, but my body didn’t respond. My limbs were too heavy. It felt like they were pinned beneath their own weight, like I was at the bottom of an ocean, being crushed by the pressure.
And then came the grief; crushing and all-consuming, as if my heart had been shattered, torn from my chest, and left to bleed.
I barely managed to open my eyes, just a squint against the light. The gray sky above shimmered between clouds, soft and dull like morning.
…I’m outside…
I could see the stone door out of the corner of my eye. It was sealed shut, its moss-covered frame riddled with fresh cracks.
How long have I been here?
Relief didn’t find me. There was only anger and sadness. So much of both that it loomed over me like a shadow.
Eshlyn was dead, and Val had made me leave her. Leave her there… to die. To die alone. I knew he’d saved me, in his own way… maybe the only way he could. Maybe the only way that was possible. I knew he had no choice. I knew it was what Eshlyn told him to do. I knew he did it for me. I knew there was no other way…
…but I couldn’t shake the feeling that he’d betrayed me. Like he’d stolen my freedom. Like he’d ripped my choice away. And at the same time, I understood completely. That’s what hurt the most. How could he? How could he force me to leave her in that tomb? How could he take that choice from me?
“Remy!?”
The voice cut in suddenly, cracking with relief.
I heard footsteps, fast footsteps running towards me.
Then I saw Val drop to his knees beside me. His breath caught like he’d been holding it for hours. I looked up at him with weary eyes, the words lost in my throat.
“You’re awake!” he said, half laughing, half choking on his words. “By the aether, I was so worried… Are you ok? I thought for sure you’d wake up, but you’d been asleep for so long I really didn’t know...”
I didn’t respond. I could hardly look at him.
Val froze. “...Remy, say something …Please …will you at least look at me? …just tell me you’re ok… “
My voice came hoarse, low. “Get away from me.”
He blinked. “What? ...Remy, it’s me. We made it. I carried you and you passed out …But we made it.”
“I said, get away from me.”
I tried to sit up, but the pain made me tremble. I didn't stop. It was like I needed the pain to numb everything else. I would dig into that pain. Every inch of my body screamed, but none of it hurt like the pit in my chest.
Val moved back a bit, stunned. “I… I thought you’d… I don't know.”
I turned, meeting his eyes with something colder than steel.
“You took her away from me,” I snapped, voice shaking. “You made me leave her to die… to die alone.”
“Remy, please… You would have died if I hadn't.”
The sorrow gripped me." ...Well, maybe I wanted to…” My voice went quiet. “At least then I wouldn’t have to feel this… or live with the guilt of knowing I…” The words turned to acid in my mouth. “I left her behind."
I left her behind.
His jaw clenched. “...Remy… I didn’t have a choice.”
I knew he was right.
“You did have a choice,” I tried to stand, but my legs buckled, and I fell to my knees. I braced myself against the ground, readying another try. “Your choice was to take mine. To rip it out from under me.”
“She told me to… You have to understand....”
I do understand.
I stared at him like he was a stranger, not someone I nearly died for. “You said we’d get out together. You said we wouldn’t leave anyone behind.”
He knelt again, voice beginning to crack. “I know. I know I did. I know, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Remy… but I didn’t know what else to do.”
“No.” I turned away, hot tears stinging my eyes. “You chose. You chose to be selfish. You chose what would hurt you less.”
He went quiet. I could have sworn I saw guilt in those eyes.
The wind moved gently through the grass. There was only silence. A silence that hung over us like a weight.
“...Remy…” He breathed.
When I finally looked at him, I wasn’t yelling. I wasn’t crying. I was hollow.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
Val looked like I’d just hit him. His mouth opened, then closed again. Whatever he wanted to say, it stayed buried.
And I didn’t want to hear it.
Not yet… Maybe not ever… because all I could feel now was pain.
I turned away again, breath hitching, the fire in me giving way to something colder. I wanted to scream. To curl up. To disappear.
But then… I heard a voice.
Faint. Familiar. Impossible.
“Remy…?”
My breath hitched. That voice, soft, ragged, barely more than a whisper, was one I never thought I’d hear again.
I turned with trembling hands, my vision still blurred from tears and sunlight, but I didn’t need to see clearly. I knew it was her.
Eshlyn.
She was slumped just beyond a low rise in the clearing. Her form blended with the dirt and shadow, as if the earth itself had tried to cradle her. A bandage wrapped her forearm, red seeping through the edges. Her robes were torn and stiff with dried blood. Her hair clung to her face in wild, matted waves. Her posture mirrored my own, slouched, fragile, every breath a chore.
But her eyes… they were open. Blinking slowly. Staring right at me.
I forgot how to breathe.
Neither of us said anything. Not at first.
We just stared across the distance, too wrecked to speak, too relieved to move. Each waiting for the other to disappear.
“Eshlyn?” I rasped, as if saying her name might break the spell.
Her lips twitched upward, a lopsided smile full of pain and disbelief. “You… look like shit.”
Emotion burst from me like my chest cracked open. I crawled toward her on shaky limbs, dragging myself through the grass until I collapsed at her side and threw my arms around her.
She let out a low, pained chuckle when I met her. “Missed you, too.”
I buried my face into her shoulder, gripping her like the world might end if I let go.
“You ridiculous, infuriating miracle,” I whispered, voice cracking. “Don’t ever do that again.”
She leaned into me with what little strength she had left. “I don't plan on it.”
Her voice turned quiet yet thoughtful. “The last thing I remember was the door breaking. I didn’t run. I didn’t even try. How did I get here?”
Val’s voice came from behind us, softer than I’d ever heard it. “Honestly, I’m just as clueless as you are. I was racing up the stairs… the next thing I knew, you were… just …right next to us, like something carried, or threw you at us. I couldn’t explain it, but I picked you up and kept running.”
I’d think it was impossible… but I knew there was no other explanation. It had to be that stupid invisible hand trick I learned as a kid. A trick never meant to carry more than a mug or a book. I don't know how. I don't know if I could ever do it again, but it must have worked.
She was alive.
I didn’t speak. I couldn’t.
Another moment passed. Then I felt Eshlyn’s breath tickle my ear.
“Remy, I can’t breathe…”
“Then shut up,” I whispered back.
She gave a soft snort. “Could you at least buy me a drink before I suffocate?”
“I’ll buy you a thousand,” I said, “if you never pull something like that ever again.”
We loosened our grip in unison. As she leaned back, her hand brushed my wrist and lingered, just for a moment, before she looked up at me with those deep emerald eyes and donned a light smile.
“All it takes is one death-defying sacrifice, and suddenly I’m your favorite?” she teased.
“I love how well you’re ruining this moment,” I said, staring back and laughing softly. I couldn't help but lean in to hug her again.
When I finally pulled away Val was watching us. His expression was unreadable, but his posture was stiff, his hands half-curled like he didn’t know what to do with them, and something about him felt distant. He eventually spoke up, “It had to have been you, right? Your symptoms were the same as Eshlyn’s. You both passed out from aether-strain.” His voice was quiet, almost reverent.
I looked away. “I didn’t think it would work,” I muttered. “It’s not meant to.”
“What’s not meant to?” Val asked.
I raised my shaky hand and focused, just enough to imprint my intent into the aether. A shimmer of shape sparked beside me, delicate and translucent, like a hand of glass.
It drifted down to grab a loose pebble near my boot, pushing it a few inches before fading away.
“That’s all it does,” I said quietly. “Move things. Hold stuff. Maybe lift something light if I concentrate.”
Eshlyn’s eyes followed the spot where it had been, her brow creasing slightly. “Then how did it carry me?” she asked.
My lips parted, but no answer came. I didn’t have one.
Eshlyn leaned back again, her voice weaker but laced with that dry cleverness I’d missed more than I could say. “Well, whatever happened… I think I need to learn that trick of yours.”
I laughed, an ugly, half-broken laugh, but it was real. The kind that comes out of grief and exhaustion.
We were bloodied, bruised, and barely stitched together… but we made it. We made it out, all of us, together.
                                         ...
The woods were louder than I remembered, too loud, almost jarringly so. Maybe it had always been this way, and I’d just forgotten what the world sounded like when it wasn’t buried under the silence of a cursed tomb.
There were birds now. Leaves rustled above us. Branches creaked in the breeze. Even the steady crunch of boots on dirt sounded alien after what we’d been through. Every snapped twig rang in my ear or made me flinch.
We moved through the thinning trees like the dead, battered, bruised, and quiet beneath the morning light.
It was Val who walked ahead, his gait uneven but steady, one hand resting lightly over the bandages at his side. Eshlyn kept close to me, occasionally brushing against my arm as if to make sure I was still there. I appreciated it; I needed something to remind me I wasn’t dreaming. We really were all here. We had survived, but somehow, everything felt different.
Her steps were light. I could see the exhaustion in her eyes. We spent hours passed out in the dirt, but none of us had actually slept.
No one said much. Any words that came to mind just sat heavy in my chest, so I didn’t voice them.
“I think I liked this place better when we were walking into it,” Eshlyn murmured beside me, breaking the silence.
“Because we weren’t half-dead back then?” I asked with less enthusiasm than I wanted.
She smirked with similar energy. “No. Because I hadn’t seen what was under it.”
A dry laugh escaped me before I could stop it, but it felt like a betrayal. I just couldn’t shake the weight of everything that had happened.
“Eshlyn, that has to be the lamest joke I’ve ever heard.” I poked at her.
“It made you laugh, though, didn’t it?” She looked at me.
I rolled my eyes. “Only because of how lame it was, and since when have you been the jokester?”
“What can I say? I’m happy to be alive.” She responded with a smile that gave me hope.
I took one look at that giddy grin and couldn’t stop the matching smile that began lifting my face. I didn’t say anything, but I felt like I could tell her with my eyes. Thank You.
Val glanced back at the sound. “If you two are done flirting, maybe keep your eyes up. It's not a tomb, but these woods can still be dangerous.”
“We’re ready for anything, Val, trust me,” I said with a scowl.
He turned back to look at me without another word.
Eshlyn’s fingers brushed mine as she bumped against my shoulder. “He’s just grumpy.”
“He’s always grumpy,” I muttered, though I didn’t have the same bite I usually did.
The trees thinned further as we pressed on, the sunlight cutting clearer paths through the leaves. I recognized the mossy stones near the edge of a streambed, this was the same route we’d taken on our way in, only now it looked different. Smaller. Quieter.
“We’re close,” Val said, not turning around.
“You're right, I recognize the streambed,” I told him.
“I didn’t ask for your approval.” He added.
Fucking prick. I thought. I guess we started out hating each other, maybe it's best we get back to it.
I said nothing.
Neither did he.
                                         ...
I heard the river before we saw it.
The steady flow of water, like distant wind through a canyon, rushing over stones and roots. It cut through the trees ahead, a familiar sound that told us we were close.
I didn’t realize how tense my shoulders had been until that sound met my ears. It’d been two nights since I’d last seen him. I wasn’t sure he’d last the afternoon when I left.
Surely Dent’s fine. He’s got to be fine.
The trees began to thin. The sun was sinking low, casting long streaks of amber and violet through the trees, bathing the world in the soft hush of early dusk.
Dent’s camp quickly came into view from the side. Just like before, but so much worse. His lively patch of cultivated wilderness looked completely wilted. The fruit trees drooped under their own weight, leaves curling at the tips. Rows of vegetables had been overtaken by vines and moss. The earth itself seemed tired, broken, and dead.
Panic caught in my chest. If the surrounding wood reflected the state of its druid, then we were long overdue.
Eshlyn and Val slowed beside me, taking in the weary view. Then we broke into a run.
Where is he!? I looked at the hammocks barely visible in the distance.
We broke through the brushline in unison and finally saw him, or what looked like him; he was lying near where we had left him two nights ago.
Two nights. I tried not to let the thought of it cut the wind from my sail.
Dent lay slumped beneath the largest tree in his camp, barely held up by a tangle of its roots. The hammock he’d once used was torn, collapsed halfway to the ground. His head tilted awkwardly, breath shallow, lips cracked. He was covered in leaves like the squirrels had cocooned him into a leafy bedroll.
HE’S STILL ALIVE!
It didn’t matter that he looked like a corpse; his skin hung in shallow folds, eyes sunken and glassy, like death had already whispered in his ear and was just waiting for him to stop fighting. His skin had lost all color. Black veins sported all over his body. His once muscular frame was now sunken. He looked like death, but I could tell he was breathing, which meant we made it in time.
“Dent!” I yelled at him, but he didn’t move an inch.
The others were right behind me as we crossed the final stretch of overgrown grass. I dropped to my knees at his side. His brow was drenched in sweat. His chest rose only slightly, with long pauses between each breath, like his body was trying to remember how to keep going.
“Aether spare him,” Eshlyn whispered, already pulling the vial from her satchel. “I’m not even sure he’s conscious.”
“He doesn’t need to be,” Val said, the three of us now at his side. “Just give him what you made.”
Eshlyn hesitated in self-doubt only a moment before popping the cork from the vial’s mouth. The glass glinted in the low light, the liquid inside still shimmering and gold. Everything we had worked for, sacrificed for, and practically changed our lives for, was this single, hard-earned chance.
She leaned in close, steadying his head with trembling fingers. “Come on, Dent. Don’t make this harder than it already is,” she murmured, brushing aside a lock of sweat-matted hair.
His lips were parted just enough for her to tip the vial against them. A few drops spilled down his chin, lost in the coarse stubble and pallor of his skin. But then, the rest went in. Slowly. Carefully. Eshlyn emptied every drop, her hand refusing to shake.
I held my breath. We waited. For a moment, nothing changed. Until finally.
His chest rose. Paused. Then fell.
A full breath.
Val stood slowly. “Is it working?”
“I think so,” Eshlyn said. “I am worried that even if it kills the parasite, the infection could still leave him deeply wounded. Even then, the remedy is experimental at best.”
Dent moved. Barely an inch, but then another. Then he twitched. It wasn’t violent, but it was scary, like it came from something deep inside him. I flinched, too.
“Dent?” I whispered, leaning closer.
I could hear my own heartbeat. It echoed in my ears like thunder.
Please. Please. It has to work. It has to.
Then his breath caught. Deep. Rasping. But real. A second followed. And then a third. It was like I could feel my heart begin to piece itself back together.
“Dent,” I whispered again before holding him close.
I watched as color crept slowly back to his face, not much, but enough to give me the hope I so desperately needed. The black veins beneath his skin began pulling back, fading from the top down. “I think…” Eshlyn studied him. “I think he’s stabilizing.”
Dent’s eyes fluttered. Then opened. Only slightly. Just a crack. Just enough.
“…Remy?” His voice was dry, almost a ghost, but it was him. It was Dent.
I choked out a laugh before pulling him into an embrace. “You big bastard. You scared the shit out of me.”
He blinked slowly, confused and dazed. “…You came back?”
“Of course I came back,” I said, releasing my grip and wiping my face without realizing I’d started crying again. “You think I’d let you off the hook. You still owe me a blanket.”
A weak smile tried to form on his lips. I smiled back.
Val let out a breath and turned away, rubbing the back of his neck like he didn’t want us to see how relieved he was.
Eshlyn collapsed into a sitting position beside me, exhaling as if she’d been holding her breath, “It worked…”
We sat in silence after that. Long, quiet, healing silence.
The air still smelled like rot. The trees still drooped, and the garden was still overgrown.
But Dent was breathing.
We’d done it.
                                         ...
The fire crackled low between us, casting long shadows across the half-ruined camp. The logs we’d gathered were damp, and the flames sputtered often, but the warmth was enough. After everything, enough felt like a luxury.
Dent lay nearby, layered with the blankets that Val, Eshlyn, and I provided for him, propped up by what remained of the torn hammock. His breathing had steadied. The worst of the black veins were gone, faded beneath his skin like distant memories. He still looked pale, but life was back in his eyes. He didn’t talk much, didn’t need to. Just being here, still alive, was more than enough.
Eshlyn sat a little closer to the fire, her legs curled beneath her, and a pot of tea simmering quietly by her side. We had cleaned up in the river enough to wash our hair, get the grime off our bodies, and clean our clothes just a bit. I could tell the weight of exhaustion still pulled at her, like it did me. Her hair was tied back in a messy braid. Her satchel sat open beside her, half-filled with notes and vials. I couldn’t help but feel comfortable around her now, even more than I cared to admit.
Val stood a little farther off, sharpening one of his blades with the whetstone from his pack. His posture was still tense, always slightly turned away from the rest of us, like his presence might crack the fragile peace forming around the fire. We hadn’t spoken since we sat down.
“Your aether control’s impressive for a self-study,” Eshlyn said softly, not looking up as she stirred the tea. “That little trick with the hand… I’ve never seen anyone able to manifest intent the way you did, and without an incantation? That’s rare.”
I didn’t respond right away. My eyes stayed fixed on the fire, watching a log split and crack inward with a hiss.
“It was stupid,” I muttered. “I didn’t even think it’d work.”
“That’s another reason why it’s impressive,” she said, glancing at me with a tired but genuine smile. “You pushed past what you thought the spell could do, what you could do.”
“Oh, stop it,” I said with a weak chuckle. “You’re gonna make me blush.”
That earned a ghost of laughter from her, but then she looked at me with quiet sincerity.
“Maybe I like seeing you blush.”
Her words sent butterflies fluttering straight through me. I lit up with embarrassment and looked away, just for a second. But then I decided not to. I wanted her to see it, to let that feeling resonate between us. So I turned back, meeting her eyes with my own.
We didn’t say anything.
It felt like we didn’t need to. A whole conversation passed in the silence between our gazes, wordless and warm.
Then, she reached into her satchel and pulled out something small, delicate, and shiny.
A silver bracelet.
Polished but well-worn, etched with tiny, elegant runes that spiraled along its surface like ivy. The metal caught the light in a way that made it feel alive somehow.
She turned it over in her hands for a beat, then held it out to me.
“What’s this?” I asked, my brow furrowing.
“A gift,” she said plainly, as if that were explanation enough.
“Eshlyn, I can't, I mean, it looks expensive. You should keep it.”
She shook her head. “You said you didn’t have a focus before, so here you go. I used it during my earliest training. My old tutor had it commissioned when I was younger, back when people thought I had so much potential.” She said with a dramatized voice. “I’ve carried it around since, but I have no use for it now. I’d really like you to have it.”
I stared at the bracelet. The runes flickered softly in the firelight. It looked delicate, but I could feel the weight of it. It was full of history, purpose, and care. A piece of her world, her past, that she was choosing to give to me.
“You must think I have some real potential, huh?” I said, trying to tease.
“I know you do… more than that, though, I’d like to train you.”
“No way,” I responded.
“Why not?” She retorted.
I guess I don't really have a good reason.
I shook my head, trying to make light of the sentiment before my fingers brushed the edge of the bracelet.
“Fine…” I said softly before taking it and putting it on. It practically glowed against my skin.
“It's beautiful… I love it.” I told her before continuing, “Let's not do anything tonight, though. I think I just need a break from everything.”
Her voice lightened into a smile. “Tomorrow then.”
I looked at her with a confirming nod, “Tomorrow.”
We fell into silence again, the good kind. A quiet that felt earned and whole.
As if the aether couldn’t allow such a thing to last, it wasn’t long before I felt Val’s presence. It pressed against me like a weight on my back. I knew he was resting further behind us. He wasn’t talking, just watching… probably listening, but for the first time since I’d woken up, he didn’t feel like a question I wanted to ignore.
So eventually, I stood. My legs ached, but I needed space. I needed to get away and process… everything.
“Where are you going?” Eshlyn asked gently.
“I’m going to go sit by the river for a bit,” I said. “I just… need some fresh air.”
She hesitated, then asked, “Do you want company?”
I paused in consideration.
“No,” I said. “You're sweet for offering, though.”
I walked away from the fire, brushing past low-hanging branches and the skeletal remnants of Dent’s garden. The moon was out, half-hidden behind mist, but still bright enough to shimmer off the slow-moving stream. I found a patch of soft grass along the bank and sat down, letting the cool breeze settle over my skin.
For the first time in days, I breathed deeply.
A few minutes passed. Then I heard someone behind me.
The steps were too heavy for Eshlyn, too deliberate for Dent. I didn’t look at him, but a rough outline of his figure lingered in the river's reflection.
Val stood just a few paces back, arms crossed, eyes on the water, the same as mine.
“Didn’t think you’d come over here,” I said flatly.
He shrugged. “I’m wondering how close I can get before you rip my head off.”
“You’ve got, like… three feet of mercy left,” I muttered half joking. “Unless, of course, you plan on saying something stupid.”
A beat passed. The river moved slowly between us, even though we were on the same side of it.
“I don't want to argue…,” he said, finally stepping forward and lowering himself to sit a few feet away. “Is there any way things could just… be alright between us?”
I didn’t respond at first.
“Honestly, Val… I just… I don’t know if I can forgive you,” I said, staring at the water. “I’m not sure what to do right now.”
Another pause.
“You could punch me,” he said in a way that made me think he was serious.
I breathed a chuckle through my nose before taking a long moment to actually consider it.
He shot me a glance before I could answer. “Well, damn, you could try not to look so excited about it.”
I almost smiled. Almost.
“...Val…” I finally spoke.
“I don’t expect you to forgive me,” he interrupted, voice quieter now. “...and I know things might not be able to go back to the way they were… I just don’t want us to be at each other’s throats. That’s all.”
I couldn’t help but think back to when he looked at me, holding that damn door like I’d be the last thing he’d ever see.
“I understand,” I admitted, voice low.
In more ways than one.
We didn’t say anything after that… but we didn’t move away either. For the first time since I woke up, we were together not as enemies, not quite as friends either, but it was something close to peace, and maybe… that was enough.
We lingered for long moments before he finally got up. “I’ll let you enjoy the view, but I’m here if you need anything, ok?”
I turned to look him in the eyes before he left, “Thanks, Val.”
In more ways than one.
                                         ...
I was lying on my back, looking at the stars, just starting to enjoy the quiet, when I heard another set of footsteps approaching.
Of course, the second I come out here to be alone, suddenly everyone wants to talk to me. What’d I expect?
Dent sat down beside me with the slow stiffness of someone still half-dead. His movements were quieter than I expected; he was big, sure, but something about his presence never felt overbearing. I didn’t know what it was, but he always felt… grounded.
“Come out here to be alone?” he asked, voice rough but warm.
“Sure did,” I replied, not looking at him.
“Perfect. Me too.” He groaned like an old tree as he settled beside me, close enough for our shoulders to touch.
He let the silence linger for a while before finally speaking up.
“Your friends seem cool. I don't know about that Eshlyn character, though. She’s trouble.”
I blinked. “How so?”
“You’re way too into her.”
I sat up on my elbows and shot him a look. “I am not!”
“Come on,” he said with maddening calm. “You might as well have made love in the middle of camp.”
“You’re so full of shit,” I snapped, and punched him in the shoulder, not hard, but not soft either.
“Ahh,” he grabbed the spot dramatically, wincing like I’d impaled him. “I’m still sore!”
“Oh, you think you get a free pass because you almost became a zombie?” I teased, the grin tugging at my mouth before I could stop it.
“Maybe just one or two.”
“Fine. You get one pass. But next time, I’m drowning you in the river.”
“That’d be tough,” he said, smirking sideways. “Seeing as I can turn into a fish. But hey, guess that’d save you from having to talk about your feelings.”
I almost snorted. “Oh, like you want to hear all about my feelings?”
“Wow, you have something seriously kinky rattling around in there, don’tcha?”
“That’s it.” I looked around with exaggerated menace. “I think it’s about time I bashed your head in with a rock.”
He raised his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright, I’m just kidding.”
I laughed through my nose. “Glad to see the parasite didn’t touch your sense of humor.”
“It’d have to kill me first,” he said, flashing that wide, lopsided grin. Then he rolled onto his stomach with a grunt, resting his chin on one arm so he could look at me properly.
The humor faded from his face, just a little.
“Okay, seriously. Val and Eshlyn look like they got hit by a soulquake, and honestly… You don’t look much better.” He looked at me in hesitation. “What the hell happened out there?”
I didn’t answer at first, just sat back to stare up at the stars.
“Too much,” I finally said. “Just way too much.”
He didn’t chime in, so I kept going. “Val said he cared about me… in a way I don't think either of us were ready for.”
Dent finally spoke up, “What? Like he professed his love for you or something?”
“No, nothing like that.” I practically interrupted.
“We thought we were going to die, and things just got emotional. He just said some personal stuff that he probably wouldn’t have said otherwise.”
Dent nodded slowly, the way someone does when they’re still following, even if they don’t know where the story's going.
I shook my head at the honesty of it all. “I didn’t think we’d make it out, and when things got bad… he did something that really hurt me… I understand why he did it, and I know it's not fair for me to blame him.” I stopped, biting back the lump in my throat. “It just…It hurt in places I didn’t know existed. Places I’m too afraid to touch… even on my own.”
Dent pulled his head up, resting it in his palms. “Damn, that sounds rough. How do you even come back from that kind of thing?”
“I don't know,” I said in longing truth before turning my head to meet his gaze.
“Would it help if I turned into a fish and flopped around dramatically on the ground?”
I blinked at him, caught somewhere between laughing and crying. “You… what?”
“Big fish. Shallow water. All the flopping. I can jump pretty high with it too, it's real dignified stuff.”
That did it, I actually laughed. Just a little. Just enough.
“I’m serious,” he said, totally expressionless. “You pour your soul out, I become seafood. Everything's better.”
I shook my head, smiling despite everything. “I'm so glad you’re ok.”
He rolled to his back again, and the silence stretched. “I came out here because I want to say thank you. I feel like I’ll never be able to make it up to you, but I want you to know, I am truly grateful.” I didn’t answer. I didn’t have the words, so we just looked up at the night sky. It sparkled on without care for our worries, vast, quiet, and steady, like it had nothing to prove and all the time in the world.
“As far as everything that happened, I’m not going to tell you what to feel,” Dent said after a while. “...but for what it’s worth… he made a hard call. Doesn’t mean it was the right one. Doesn’t mean it's not going to hurt… just means he made it.”
I nodded, eyes almost stinging. “Yeah.”
“And it’s ok to carry that hurt,” he added, “but don’t let it be the only thing you're carrying around.”
“…Thanks, Dent.”
I wasn’t looking at him, but I knew he smiled. “Anytime... Just let me know when you need the fish thing… I’ll practice my flop.”
“... you're unbelievable.”