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herearedragons · 2 months ago

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The Hanged Man (Chapter 4: In The Wake)

Chapter 1

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The house was still burning when they left.

No one came to try and fight the fire; no one came to speak to them as they watched the flames, or as they walked away. But the village was wide awake, every house full of anxious minds; more often than not the curtains were drawn and the shutters closed, but Selene knew that there were eyes in every window they passed by.

At least some of those people must have been awake when the fire started. Some of them must have known exactly who did this. Selene could have found out everything about the attempt on Edér's life right there and then, simply by listening a little closer.

But there were many of them, and their anxious curiosity was laced with painful fear — and she was already in pain again, her headache back in full swing and her entire upper body starting to feel the aftereffects of Edér's borrowed strength.

She didn't have the endurance for it. Not right now.

That was the limit of a cipher's abilities: you could convince a mind, for a time, that its body was capable of more than it thought — and, for a time, the body would play along, but in the end reality would always return.

Still, in this case it was worth it. She'd pushed both herself and Edér, but in the end it meant that there were still two of them, when there could have been just one.

Now that the initial rush of adrenaline was wearing off, Selene was slowly coming to terms with that thought.

She'd almost lost her witness and her main ally. She didn't, but it was far too close.

Someone — multiple people working together, from the look of it — had made an attempt on Edér's life, while fully aware that he was under her protection. She'd announced it before the entire village, save for Algar, and even he was informed later.

This only made sense if the group that did this stood to lose more by letting Edér live than by making an enemy out of her.

Which only made sense if —

The realization cut through the haze of pain and exhaustion, sharp and bright.

Edér could help her. It wasn't just a matter of her intuition; someone else was afraid of them working together.

This meant two things.

First, she was on the right track with the investigation of Lady Ygrid's murder.

Second, they would try again. If Selene's presence didn't scare them off, failure wouldn't either.

Which meant that she couldn't let Edér out of her sight.

He was walking silently by her side, his grief for his childhood home a dull ache in the back of her mind. Still, compared to what she felt — what he felt — as they watched the house burn, it was almost nothing.

Maybe she wasn't being a good agent when she chose to grit her teeth and sit with him instead of stepping away and taking stock of their surroundings. Sacrificing her own ability to function for the sake of comforting someone; Lady Webb might not have approved, had she known.

Selene remembered having a tooth pulled once, when she was younger. The actual pulling wasn't bad, a fellow cipher holding the pain away from her just like she did for Edér just now, but after it ached and ached and ached. Edér's mind as he stared at the flames felt a little like that: a deep-seated pain left in the wake of something gone.

But it weakened somewhat when she took his hand, and for that reason, she couldn't regret it.

Near the end of their walk to the Black Hound — Selene decided they'd both stay in her room for the night; she would figure out a new arrangement for Edér in the morning — Edér's thoughts stirred, alerting her that he was about to speak up.

She turned to him a second too early, before the words even began to leave his mouth, and realized her mistake when she saw him flinch.

He recovered quickly, and said:

"Guess you knew I was gonna say something."

Selene just nodded; there was no reason to dwell on it.

"You know what, or? — "

"I'm still not reading your mind. I just felt an intent."

Edér nodded.

"Alright. Well, I just wanted to ask…"

There was a pang of hesitation in his mind; he wasn't sure if he wanted to know the answer to his question.

Still, he continued:

"You must've read a lot of minds in Gilded Vale, by now."

"Not as many as you might think," Selene said. "But some."

"See anything in there that could explain… that?" He gestured vaguely behind them, where the orange blaze was still visible in the distance. "Why they hate me that much?"

His voice stayed mostly steady as he asked, with the smallest crack at the end, but Selene could tell that he had to make an effort to keep it that way.

The pain in his mind was familiar in a way she did her best not to dwell on.

"What happened yesterday, it made sense," Edér said. "Wasn't a great morning for me, but at least I saw it coming. Been eighteen folks there before me, I'd be Nineteen. But burning…" His voice trailed off; he shook his head. "No one's been burned alive in Gilded Vale before, not as execution. What'd I do to be the first?"

Selene hesitated for a moment, trying to find the right way to word her answer.

"I don't think it was an act of hatred," she said finally.

Immediately, Edér's mind bristled with irritation, telling her that she chose wrong.

"Right, 'cause burning down a house is how you show neighborly love. The boarded up windows are a nice touch; really lets 'em know you care."

The pain behind her eyes flared up.

Selene took a deep breath.

That was on her. She couldn't respond with irritation in turn; they were both hurt and exhausted and coming off a near-death experience, and were about to spend the rest of the night in the same room.

Don't get angry at him. Don't get angry at yourself for messing it up. Just keep talking.

"If it was about hatred, they would have done this a long time ago," she said. "Maybe during the first purges, or after Swithin's hanging. But what's the point in mob violence when your target is standing with one foot on the gallows already?"

Edér grimaced briefly at the mention of Swithin's name, but didn't say anything; the sound of his thoughts didn't betray extreme discomfort at her knowing the story, just a sense of regret.

And then came her question, and finally there was something else in his mind except for seething emotion.

He considered her words.

"Maybe they thought I was gonna get away?"

Selene nodded.

"And why would they think that? Forget what we know; no one heard me tell you I know you're innocent. I made sure."

She kept her voice low as she said that. They were walking through an emptier part of the village, and, while Selene didn't sense any immediate attention, the quiet meant that their voices would carry further.

Suddenly, Edér stopped in his tracks. Selene stopped too, and watched his expression shift as he put the pieces together.

"…'Cause they also know I didn't do it," he said. "And they need me gone."

For a second, his mind was still hovering between doubt and certainty, and then the decision was made; Selene could almost see the scales tip.

Edér's hands balled into fists at his sides; when he spoke again, his voice was low with anger, not unlike what she'd heard in Pasca's memory when he talked about Raedulf.

"They were covering it up. That pigshit burned my parents' house down to cover up his crime."

He was referring to Raedric. It seemed that he had made up his mind about who was responsible for Ygrid's death, which was fine; being objective about the case and the available evidence was Selene's job, not his.

"If that's the case, he made a mistake," Selene said.

"That he did," Edér agreed grimly. "Think I've got some words for our esteemed lord, when I see him next."

"You'll have to keep it to just words, unfortunately," she said, aware of the violent intent stirring in his mind. "Any more than that, and I'd have to take you in along with him."

Edér raised an eyebrow:

"You could look the other way? Blink real slow?"

She shook her head.

For a moment, it seemed as though Edér was about to say something else, but then he just sighed and nodded, resigned.

"Alright," he said. "But we're gonna get him."

"We will," Selene said. "Do you want to know what the killer's real mistake was?"

"Not finishing the job?"

"Revealing their hand. Wanting you gone so badly means that as long as you're alive — " Selene pointed at him — "there's a threat to them. There's something you know, or something you are, that can lead us to answers."

"Well, that's something," Edér said, uncertain. "Wish we knew what that was."

Then, he frowned:

"Hey, you okay? You look... kinda shaky."

He was referring to her hand; for as simple a gesture as it was, pointing at him required a significant effort on Selene's part, and her entire arm trembled as she did it.

Gods damn it. She must have seriously overtaxed either Edér's body or her own while dealing with the fire; the kickback from borrowing someone else's strength was usually not that severe.

"I'll be fine once I rest," Selene said.

☾

By the time they got to the inn, Edér was the one carrying Selene's still-damp cloak because she'd dropped it on the way, her hands shaking too badly to maintain a proper grip. She couldn't grab a door handle either, and had to let him open all the doors.

She pushed down her frustration and the tiny tinge of dread at her own helplessness at a moment where they could very well still be in danger, and led the way to her room.

The Black Hound was quiet at this time of night. There were some restless minds awake, people peering out of windows at the fire in the distance, but the anxiety here was much lesser than near Edér's house: less people, more distance, less information about what exactly was happening.

No one was in the common room or in the hall upstairs, which was great.

Once they were in the room, Selene had Edér lock the door and check that the window was still latched shut, the same way as she left it. The room wasn't too cold and the glow of her own hair gave them more than enough light to see, which spared her from having to ask him to light the fire.

Only when the arrangements were more or less to her liking — and she was sure that she wasn't detecting any minds with ill intent in their immediate vicinity — did she allow herself to sit down on the bed, wrap her aching arms around herself, close her eyes and exhale, slowly and loudly.

Everything hurt: her eyes, her arms, her chest, the space between her ears. Edér's thoughts weren't as painful anymore, at least; the worst that was reaching her was vague concern, which paled in comparison to everything else.

Selene allowed herself the luxury of self-pity for a second, then took a deep breath and told Edér:

"Look in my bag on the desk. There should be potions, small vials of clear liquid. Get me one."

He nodded and went off to rummage in her things.

Selene hadn't brought a lot with her: a change of clothes, spare bullets, some snacks, basic hygiene supplies and her medicine. Anything beyond that she could either do without, or purchase on the spot.

The medicine was what Edér was looking for. It wasn't rare for a cipher to need some sort of medication to help with the more unpleasant side of their powers; some suffered mood swings, some had trouble focusing their attention or falling asleep, and some, like Selene, had to deal with pain and exhaustion.

She didn't like resorting to the medicine, which was the reason for it being packed away in her bag and not in one of her pockets or in a belt pouch, where it would tempt her at all times. Depending on the severity of her pain, the medicine would either take it away entirely or make it far more tolerable — but as a side effect, it would dull her cipher senses, too. In most circumstances, that was a bad bargain.

But right now, the pain was making thinking difficult, and Selene needed to think. She needed to make a new plan. To review evidence. To make sure Edér was alright.

"Found it."

He approached her with a vial of the clear potion. Selene nodded her thanks and attempted to take it from his hand, only to discover that effort was beyond her at the moment.

Edér ended up having to tip the vial into her mouth, just as she did with the healing potion after he'd burned himself. He noticed the similarity as well; setting the empty vial aside, he said:

"Well, guess we're even about nursing each other back to health now. Feel better yet?"

She was, in fact, starting to feel better; the medicine worked fast. First, the painful knot behind her eyes came unwound; then her upper body began to relax, her mind released from whatever self-destructive loop it was caught in.

Selene nodded.

"Thanks."

Edér stood silent for a long moment; at first she didn't understand why, and then he said:

"Black bones, I really am dumb, aren't I? All that, and I hadn't even thanked you for saving me. Again."

Selene looked up at him. With the sound of his thoughts muffled, it was impossible to tell what was happening in his mind, but he looked as tired as she felt. He'd wiped most of the soot off his face as they walked, but there were still black smears left, and his beard and hair looked several shades darker than they did during the day; his eyes were still bloodshot, irritated by smoke.

To be perfectly honest, she didn't mind the lack of thanks, but it was nice of him to say something.

"It's fine," she said. "I did what I had to. If anything, I wish I could have prevented it in the first place."

"Well, I wish Waidwen had stayed at home and kept growing vorlas." Edér shrugged, exhaustion clouding anything else that might have showed in his voice or expression; Selene wasn't sure what exactly he meant to convey. "I'm still here, and I could've not been, so, thank you."

He settled heavily on the opposite end of the bed; the frame creaked faintly as he sat down. He stared into the space in front of him for a moment, then buried his face in his hands with a weary sigh, elbows resting on his knees.

"I'm sorry about your house," Selene said.

"Thanks," came the answer, flat and muffled between his hands.

She leaned her back against the wall and stared at a corner of the ceiling, both unsettled and relieved by the rare blankness of her own mind.

It was strangely peaceful, sitting together in silence. Whether it was the lingering excitement of a successful rescue, the relief of both of them still being alive, or just a natural extension of her sympathy towards him, for a moment Selene felt a weird kinship with the man sitting next to her.

Her thoughts went back to the first glimpse she'd caught of his mind, back by the tree.

There was the cold, and the irritation, and the fear. The knowledge that he was innocent.

And flashes of a memory from years ago: a man and a woman, unarmed, struggling against two armed and armored guards in a small one-room house.

They had killed those guards.

They were defending a Hollowborn.

Edér had wondered aloud why Selene was so willing to involve herself in his fate, and she had no doubt he'd wondered even more in his thoughts. To him, there was no reason for anyone to ever want to help him.

But many would say that there was no reason to defend a soulless infant, and Edér did it anyway. Even if Selene couldn't admit to him that she knew that — and she couldn't, not while he was still a subject of Raedric's and her suspect — she kept this thought in the back of her mind.

Those with sympathy for the broken beyond repair were rarer and rarer in the Dyrwood nowadays, and, if Selene could save even one of them, she owed it to herself to try.

And she had to admit it: she liked Edér. He was a quicker thinker than she'd expected, brave enough to speak his mind, and resilient in the face of pressure that would have caused many others to snap.

She wanted to see him survive.

Selene thought again about the pain that felt familiar; the thought of his that she had caught and discarded immediately, fearing to hurt herself if she examined it closer. With her mind numbed by the medicine, she could allow herself to face it, for a time.

See anything there that could explain that? Why they hate me that much?

The betrayal of learning that your community wants you utterly and entirely gone, every trace of you. As if you had never existed.

It was a shame that Edér had to experience that, too.

Just as her thoughts started to spiral, going further down the path she usually kept closed, his voice pulled her back to reality:

"…There's something I'm wondering about. How'd you find me?"

Selene looked over. Edér was still sitting on the opposite edge of the bed, his face no longer in his hands; his expression was still weary, but more focused than it was before. He'd pulled himself together, for now.

"I was on the edge of town, checking the horse lead," she said. "Then I saw fire in the distance, and ran to see what was happening. Once I got close enough, I knew that it was your house, and could sense your mind inside. You know the rest."

Edér hummed in acknowledgement.

"Nice trick, that; talking inside my brain. Blocking my pain, too. I still don't get the thing with the cloak, though."

"I borrowed your strength. Convinced my own mind for a time that it was in your body, which is stronger and can do things I normally can't. Usually I'd explain before doing this, but…" Selene shrugged, and felt a pinch of relief when her body didn't protest at the motion. "There wasn't much time."

Edér's brows knitted together in a frown as he — probably thought about her explanation, but, again, she couldn't know for sure.

Now that the pain relief had fully set in, she was already missing her telepathy.

Eventually Edér nodded, to himself more than to her, but it seemed like there still was something on his mind.

Finally, he said:

"It's funny, you know; twice now you showed up just when I was sure I was about to see the Wheel. That kind of luck… Hel, it's almost enough to make me think maybe my god's not dead after all."

Once again, Selene couldn't tell the intent behind his words. Was he just sharing an insight? Asking her to reaffirm his faith? Something else?

Still, she had to respond somehow.

"…You think Eothas sent me?"

The corner of his mouth curled up into a mirthless smile.

"Don't think there's anyone left who can say for sure what Eothas did or didn't. But you, well, you're the closest thing to a miracle I've seen in a long time. Trying to figure out how I should feel about it."

Me and you both, Selene thought.

All she could say for sure was that Edér wasn't mocking her when he said that, and that his uncertainty seemed genuine.

"Well, if a god did send me, it would have to be Ondra," she said after a few seconds of silence. "And I don't think she'd do that."

"'Cause you think she doesn't like you being in Dunryd Row."

"No. Because I used to serve her, and then turned away from my duties."

The words left her mouth before she could think better of it.

Selene wasn't sure what she was doing. Sure, she felt some sympathy for Edér, but this — she didn't talk about this. She just didn't. Even without the headache that would usually accompany those memories, just a vague mention was enough to conjure a sinking feeling in her stomach.

But it was too late to question herself, because she did say it.

Maybe it was the medicine clouding up her thoughts, but, for some reason, some part of her felt like he'd understand.

Edér was watching her intently; it felt that way, at least.

"What happened?" he asked.

The sinking feeling got worse. For a second, she could almost taste briny water in her mouth again, but taking a deep breath was enough to make that disappear.

"I was unhappy," Selene said. "I got tired of drowning everyone else's sorrows. When I said that I was going to leave the temple, some people tried to stop me by force. I still left, but it wasn't pretty."

That was an understatement, but the full details didn't really matter.

"Ondra never spoke to me," she said. "Not when I was devout; not when I began to question; not when I was getting sick from doing something I didn't believe in anymore. Every single person I knew was certain that I was chosen, but I don't think she ever cared about anything that happened to me."

After a moment of hesitation, she added:

"I want to believe that Eothas is different. Maybe all of them are; maybe Ondra is kind and caring, just not to me. I don't know. I just know that if anyone comes to me looking for the gods' wisdom, I can only disappoint."

She hoped she'd be able to leave Edér with some hope for his own faith while also letting him know that he wouldn't find any answers with her.

She had no way of telling if it worked; his expression stayed attentive and guarded, and she couldn't tell whether there was acceptance or disappointment on the other end.

"Well, that's honest at least," Edér said. "I appreciate that."

And then:

"Wasn't right what those folks did, trying to get you to stay. Thing with faith is, you can't force it on people any more than you can force it out of 'em."

For reasons Selene didn't fully understand, breathing became difficult for a moment.

She nodded, hoping that would suffice as a response, and, seemingly, it did. Edér's eyes crinkled as he gave her a brief smile; this time, there was no bitterness in it.

She was right. He did understand; the part of it that she could bear to share, at the very least.

Maybe saying it was a good idea after all. It wasn't exactly relevant to the case, but, still, the two of them were in this together; a small show of trust could only serve to make their cooperation easier.

The strange tightness had disappeared from her throat at this point, so Selene spoke up:

"We should rest; there's still time until dawn. Take the bed, I'm fine sleeping on the floor."

Edér shook his head.

"Make it the other way 'round," he said. "No disrespect, agent, but I'm not letting a lady sleep on the floor."

Despite herself, Selene chuckled.

"That would have been very polite of you, had you not almost burned your face off less than an hour ago," she said. "You're more hurt than me, and you need a good rest for the healing to fully set in. Besides, I'm going to stay awake for a little longer, go over my notes."

From his expression, it seemed that Edér wasn't fully convinced, but he didn't keep arguing.

"Alright. Wake me if you change your mind, or if there's trouble."

"I will," Selene promised, and stood up.

As she did, Edér regarded his own filthy, charred clothes for a moment, and then said:

"…Yeah, Pasca'll kill me if I let that touch her linens. Think I'm gonna have to take those off; don't know what your sensibilities are, but you might wanna shield your eyes for a second."

She nodded:

"I'll give you privacy."

Selene sat down at the small desk on the other side of the room — conveniently positioned so that her back was turned to the bed — and took out her journal again.

Hearing shuffling noises behind her as her co-investigator and official suspect presumably stripped down and got into bed, she briefly reviewed her earlier notes: the notes she took at the crime scene, a recollection of her conversation with Pasca, and some inconclusive notes about the notable lack of recent hoofprints and horse excrement on the outskirts of Gilded Vale, as well as a lack of eyewitness accounts of a woman riding into town. There was also a proper case summary now, written just after her conversation with the innkeeper, and a single, mostly empty page dedicated to her investigation of Hattorn's fate.

"'Right, I'm decent, kinda," Edér's voice sounded behind her back. "I'll have to get new clothes from somewhere tomorrow, else this investigation's gonna get real awkward."

"Good point."

On a new page, Selene started making a list. First item:

Get Edér a change of clothes

"Know who can help with that?" she asked.

"I'd ask Pasca."

"Alright." Selene noted it down.

She mulled the next point over in her mind for a moment, before putting down:

Move into a room for two

It wasn't ideal — her pretense of still suspecting Edér would definitely suffer — but after tonight, she couldn't see a way to keep him safe outside of her presence.

What else?

Search the remains of the house

That was just practical. If any of Edér's things happened to survive the fire, he should have them.

There was maybe one other thing she could think of regarding the consequences of the house fire.

"Edér, is there a healer in town?"

"Not anymore," he said. "Left a couple years ago, once Raedric got too crazy for her tastes. No one was brave enough to take up after her. When someone gets real bad, folks trek out to Anslög's Compass to see her."

No active temple, no healer: Gilded Vale wasn't too kind to the sick and injured.

"Alright then."

She'd have liked to have Edér checked for lasting damage — a single healing potion should have fixed most of it, but the effects of those often varied — but it seemed like that wouldn't be easily possible. She'd just have to trust that the potion sufficed, and keep an eye out for symptoms that said otherwise.

For now, this seemed like a good plan.

"You should try to sleep," Selene told him. "Let me know if my hair is too bright."

It's been a complaint in the past, when she had to share rooms with others: not in the temple — she's always had a room of her own there — but later in Hadret House, when she was in training. She'd learned to cover her hair and horns to let her roommates sleep.

"Nah, I'm fine. Goodnight."

With that, there was a shifting noise — probably Edér turning away — and he fell silent.

Left to her work, Selene started writing a record of the house fire by the light of her hair. Once that was done, she did her best to extract points of interest from her own story, and listed them in a small neat column next to the broader account:

Multiple perpetrators

Windows were boarded up, fuel and kindling was used — time and preparation, premeditated

Likely multiple eyewitnesses, but no alarm was raised. Might be able to extract perpetrators' identity from witness memories

Working version: meant as a cover-up, not mob violence. Whose orders?

About midway through that list, the familiar all-encompassing noise of active minds started trickling back into her awareness, bringing an aray of distractions, but also palpable relief: it was good to have her most important sense back.

With it came the hum of restless thoughts from where Edér was supposed to be sleeping, betraying the fact that he was wide awake.

Reasoning that the way he spent his resting time was none of her business, Selene ignored the noise and moved on with her work. Still, she couldn't help but be aware of it: a buzz of anxiety just loud enough to be heard.

There was a feeling underlying it that wasn't quite pain, but something similar to dragging your hand through gravel; a sharpness that wouldn't let his thoughts rest.

Following an instinct, Selene closed her eyes for a moment and saw flashes of something: a grey, cold night from long ago, soldiers bundled up in their cloaks, resting their heads on their packs, trying to fall asleep. There had been word of Readcerans nearby.

The grip of a sabre in her — his — hand, the awareness of his shield within reach, not knowing whether it would do him any good if an ambush sprang on them while he was still asleep.

Selene opened her eyes, resurfacing, and exhaled slowly; she had held her breath during the vision.

She didn't mean to dive in; if she did, she'd be breaching her promise. But the thought seemed to find her, rather than the other way around; did that still count?

Either way, she now had an idea of what was keeping Edér awake.

A lingering echo of his thoughts told her that it wasn't a rare occurrence, and that normally he'd reach for his pipe and whiteleaf to lull his mind back into behaving.

It wouldn't be good for him to spend the rest of the night without rest. The healing would take better after some sleep, and, considering the circumstances, Selene needed him to be sharp tomorrow.

"Edér," she said quietly. "Are you awake?"

"Yeah." A shifting sound as he turned to face her. "Need something?"

Selene turned to him as well and found him sitting up, looking at her.

The cold white light of her hair picked out scars across his upper body. There were many, which made sense for a soldier: thin lines and jagged shapes, faded, but still visible. Something made her linger on that for a moment, wondering how many of those scars already existed by the time the night from the vision came around, and how many were acquired after.

Selene pushed the thought out of her mind. It didn't really matter; her thinking was probably just being affected by the memory she'd picked up.

She focused. She needed to tell Edér something.

"Since you're awake, I just wanted to say. Whoever set the fire will probably try again; from here on out, we'll only be getting closer to answers, and they'll only get more desperate to stop us. I'll be surprised if that's the last attempt we see on one of our lives. Yours more likely than mine, since Dunryd Row will have questions if I don't return."

Even before she finished speaking, she could feel Edér's anxiety stir — and yet outwardly, his expression had barely changed.

That was why she needed her telepathy.

"Should've said so sooner," he said. "Nothing lulls a guy to sleep like a promise of murder."

"Well, they will try. But they won't succeed, and they won't get as far as they have today, either. I'm not leaving you alone anymore, and when it happens, I'll be ready."

Edér raised an eyebrow:

"You'll be watching over me, is that what you're saying?"

"Yes," Selene said simply. "The harder they'll try to get rid of you, the harder I'll fight to keep you around."

Remembering their earlier conversation, she added:

"Not because any god told me to, but because it's the right thing to do. In fact, if a god spoke to me right now and told me not to, I'd do it anyway."

There was the tiniest thrill of dread in her stomach as she spoke the second sentence. She'd blasphemed many times in the past — against Ondra, and against other gods on occasion — and, as freeing as it felt, the very next emotion she felt was always the fear of retribution.

Still, Selene meant what she said. And no retribution came this time either, just like all the times before it; more proof that the gods probably couldn't care less.

Edér stared at her for a long moment; so long that her attention began to drift away, and had to be wrangled back into focus. She was probably getting tired too.

"You really mean it, don't you," he said. "You'd really do it."

Selene nodded.

In the light of her hair, she saw the corner of Edér's mouth twitch, and then he ran a hand over his face and shook his head, silent.

"Well," he said finally, "Guess the least I can do is pay it back. Whatever you need for this case, you can count on me to help. And I know you've got your cipher stuff and all kinds of training, but, for what it's worth, I'll be looking out for you too."

He was sincere, and Selene thought that it was only fair to respond with sincerity in turn.

"I need it more than you know," she said.

Edér nodded, a serious look on his face; the sound of his thoughts told her that he had noted her words.

She could feel things shifting in his mind, folding into patterns.

The gravelly feeling was gone. He'd sleep fine now; even if Edér himself couldn't tell yet, she could.

Selene tried to speak, and found herself yawning instead; just as well — her body was making the point with her.

Edér gave her a look.

"You still working on your agent stuff?"

"I'm just about done."

"Good. You'd better catch some sleep too."

It didn't take her long to figure out her bedding situation; the carpet in the room was thick and reasonably comfortable to lie down on, and Edér insisted she take the pillow from the bed, at least. Normally, her cloak would have made a great blanket, but it was still miserably damp, hanging from a hook on the wall; Selene had to make do with some of her spare clothes instead.

By the time she'd fully settled down, she could already hear Edér's thoughts slowing. He'd be asleep before she was.

Selene closed her eyes, and hoped that there was a decent amount of time left until dawn.

#pillars of eternity #edér teylecg #oc: watcher selene #herearedragons writing #project: the hanged man #edérene tag

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