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17. Basil - Hands-On Training
🕑 Added 2024-07-10 03:23:27 +0000 UTC
Chapter 17
Hands-On Training
“Well, what did you get?” Griff’s voice wasn’t quite as hoarse as last we spoke, but it still sounded like he was talking over sandpaper. His eyes though were bright and eager, like a giddy child ready to open his solstice sweets and presents. In fact, he was looking me up and down as if I had those things hidden on my person. “No weapons, no armor, nor any new rings to speak of… You get yourself a talisman, lad? Some underclothes of protection? It’s not kindly to keep a chained man waiting any more than he already has to.”
The Immaculate Vault had indeed been impressive, but discussing it wasn’t my foremost concern. “Why does your throat always sound scraped raw? Are you sick?” I was already sitting as far away as I could without appearing insulting, and if he was indeed ill, I would use my handkerchief to talk through. I couldn’t afford to come down with something right now; every day here, every moment, I needed to be learning as much as I could.
“Don’t get your knickers in a twist,” Griff chuffed at me. “The walls like to hear me sing, is all. The latrine, too.”
So, he was being kept in a cell when we weren’t having these meetings; I was quite sure how to feel about that. Sorrowful? He must have done deeds to deserve it, surely. As for his explanation… I was talking to a plant now as part of my morning routine, but still, what he was describing sounded like a step past sane. Perhaps it was merely part of his Chaos cultivation?
“I deferred my choice,” I said to keep the next words out of his mouth at bay – undoubtedly more questions about what artifact I had chosen.
His brows scrunched together, forming a deep vertical furrow right about his nose. “You did what now?”
“Deferred. It means I delayed my –”
“I know the word, you snit,” Griff snapped. “Just because it looks like I’m freshly stepped out of the gutter doesn’t mean I did my learning there, too. You judge a person’s skills or smarts from their looks, and you’ll end up glassy-eyed on your first skirmish, Twins mark me.”
Having a battle-tested elder tell me I was going to perish early was not the sort of support I was looking for today, and the shiver it gave me up my spine was far from pleasant.
“I have no plans on taking you, or time spent participating in the war effort, with anything less than the utmost seriousness,” I told him cooly. “There’s also no need for name calling, or such foul language.” Between Hull and Griff, it was like I was spending my days in a tavern lately.
“I take what small pleasures I can,” he said with a grin. His parted lips revealed a medley of vacant and decaying teeth I had hoped to never see again – as improbable as that wish might be with us meeting regularly. “I should have known you’d be one of those, what with your prancy walk and squeamishness. I should have seen it early, shouldn’t I, Stephi?”
I glanced at the fully-armored guard who stood beside us. They were covered head to toe in plate and boiled leather with no obvious signs as to whether they were the same person as the day before or not. Did Griff call everyone who watched him Stephi?
“One of what?” I asked, knowing I’d probably regret the answer. “And I don’t prance.”
“One of those folk who just sit there when they should be shitting. You had power in your hands, raw, ancient power, and you didn’t take it.” His own worn hands were outstretched, grasping at the air as if he could feel the wonders I had held. “It’s no mystery now why your deck is half-formed ideas. You’ve got to learn to commit, Little Hintal.”
I was tempted to snap at him – I certainly wanted to – but hidden within the insults and disparagement, it did seem like he was actually trying to teach me something.
“But what if I choose incorrectly?” I said, quietly. That had been my biggest fear when first scrabbling together my deck, and it had happened a few times, setting my progress back months, if not years. “What if I pick something and then later reg –”
Before I realized what he was doing, he flicked me in the forehead with one of his dirty fingernails “No choice at all is leagues worse than a bad choice. Get that into your head, and you’ll be a better man and duelist for it.”
I rubbed my forehead, far from convinced. “I’ve done what you say, and it’s turned out poorly for me, wasting not only my coin but time.”
“Probably because you tried to ‘fix’ them instead of commit to them,” he countered, elbow on the table between us, his chin propped up in his palm. “Tell me true, when a card didn’t work as you hoped, you traded it away fast as you could, didn’t you?” My face was apparently enough of an answer because he chuckled, wagging a finger at me. “One step down a path isn’t enough to decide if it’s the right one for you. You’ve got to explore it, savor it, like a fine lady: they won’t offer up their charms until they know you’re invested.”
I scrutinized him, trying to detect where he was pulling this wisdom from. “Is this some Chaos way of thinking?”
He jerked his head to the side. “Ask a dwarf, and they’ll swear up and down it’s Depths. But spending everything you are on something, so much so that you lose all the rest? Aye, that’s Chaos, alright.” He was smiling as he said the last bit, fondly even, but to me he was describing an utterly horrific loss of control.
I peeked at our guard again, but whoever they were, they didn’t seem to care one whit about what Griff was teaching me.
“I can agree that I might have been premature regarding some of the limited experimentation I did when first building my deck,” I admitted. “However, I must have made some good choices. I ended up here, after all.”
“Didn’t say it was all bad, did I? But…” He reached forward and flicked me in the head again, a hair faster than I could avoid. “Lesson two of the day: just because you won, doesn’t mean you did something right. Think before you argue with me,” he said, making me hesitate over my at-the-ready retort. “You said you’re fond o’ that, didn’t you? Thinking through things?”
I crossed my arms and let out an audible sigh. Did the man want to gutter out all my confidence? Those victories and my performance at the tournament were an important part of why I was able to view myself favorably now. Without them bolstering me…
“Not trying to steal from you,” he said, his raspy voice halfway kind. “Not this time, anyway,” he added with a wink. “But understanding why something happened how it did is more useful than remembering it the way we want to.”
That did sound somewhat reasonable, so I tried to think back on my matches with a more objective lens. “My first opponent in the Tournament only had two cards,” I admitted.
Griff didn’t laugh, which I appreciated. I would have, however, preferred it if he hadn’t been trying to pick something out of his mouth at the same time. With hands like that, he was only making it dirtier in there.
“Another opponent used all neutral Relics, which limited his defense,” I said, attempting to stay on task. “But the others I faced were all skilled. I earned those wins.”
“How?”
I had spent a considerable amount of time reviewing that very thing, a good bit with Esmi, so I had the answer at the ready. “The Master Assassin gave me staying power I wouldn’t have otherwise had.”
“Oh, we’ll be keeping him,” Griff confirmed with a perfunctory nod.
“Water Source Explosion with a Sea Titan was also important, but I don’t have those anymore. And then having a lot of flyers with a Microburst at the ready.”
He had continued to nod along. “Sounds like you’re describing the end of your matches.”
“Correct,” I said with a touch of hesitation at his tone. “That’s how I won.”
“Lesson three,” Griff said, lifting a hand, but this time was ready, and pulled back. He laughed, “Alright, lesson four then,” he dropped his hand. “You start winning the match with the first play you make, not the last.”
“I know that,” I said, somewhat nettled.
“Do you now?” he said, looking doubtful. “What’s your ideal opening?”
I frowned. “It depends on what my opponent is using. Order is a more reactive Source.”
“Aye, in part,” he agreed, “but what if your opponent didn’t do anything at all? What cards would you most like to see at the start?”
“Like in the presummoned fights we do against General Edaine?”
He waved that idea away. “We’ll make you battle ready later. First, we need to make sure that you can beat that brother of yours in a standard duel.”
I still didn’t know why this man would care about my family affairs, but I didn’t think he was any more likely to answer that question this day than the one prior. As for his question, I honestly wasn’t sure. Tipfin had never asked me to consider something so ambiguous before.
“An Assassin, I suppose,” I said. “To Hunt whatever my opponent ends up playing.”
“He supposes,” Griff said, sharing a laugh with our unresponsive guard. “You should know, lad. You’re going to devote one of your opening sources, putting yourself behind resource-wise, in the off chance they’ll play into your card? What if they summon a Soul with Armor? What if they just start shredding you with Spells?”
“That’s why I said it depends,” I answered, trying not to grit my teeth.
“And I’m saying it should and shouldn’t. Get your cards out,” he said, gesturing at me. “We’re going to do some openings.”
“On the table?” I asked, hesitant. I disliked removing my deck from my Mind Home, especially after being so grievously wounded by Ticosi, but had done it the first day because it seemed to be a necessity. However, looking around the room, I saw that others had their decks out in physical form, Sources even floating overhead or at their shoulder, going through mock turns and choices with their advisors. I knew this was how some who were card rich but lacked proper space practiced dueling, and I supposed that made sense with so many of us in a singular room.
“That’s right,” he said, but I was already pulling the cards out at that point. “How many source do you usually draw to start?”
“Two,” I said, adding to the growing stack of summons, “when it was just Order and Air. Sometimes three or more when I also had Water.” I wouldn’t have bothered to include the other information, but I did hope to gain my first Life source soon.
“Let’s imagine two for now,” Griff said, “one each of Order and Air, best of both worlds. Go ahead and pull three summons.”
When I had the twenty cards out, I did as said, getting a Carrion Condor, Equality, and my Soulforged Scalemail.
“What would you mulligan away?” he asked after I showed him what I had gotten.
“Without knowing what my opponent is using?”
“I promise it doesn’t matter, Little Hintal, but if it makes you feel any better, pure Order.”
I thought on that a moment. Order often had swarm, like the Paladin trainees and Edaine did, in which case Equality could be useful. Order also had archers, which Armor was invaluable against, and by having the Condor, I had half my buffing combo once I started getting Assassins or Executions. Plus, with a source of each type, I could summon the Carrion Condor on my first turn – assuming I went second – if needed.
“Nothing,” I said, watching him closely to see if that was the wrong answer.
He didn’t so much as blink. “Go ahead and draw for your first turn.”
I did so, getting a Human Assassin and a Protection.
I was feeling pretty good about having gotten my Assassin Condor synergy until Griff asked what I would play first.
“Probably my Condor,” I said, “if the opponent is indeed Order. That way I can block some tokens, assuming they have one, and then get my Assassin play later.”
“How much later?” the Chaos user asked.
I did some quick calculations. “The turn after next.”
“Exactly,” Griff said, putting emphasis on the word as if he had just revealed something important. “Your opening is so slow it would put me to sleep. Try again.”
I snatched up the cards, jerkily putting them back in a stack. “It would help if you provided some indication as to what I should be doing.” When he didn’t reply, I took a stab, “If that’s too slow for you, would you prefer I go first by playing my Air Source?”
He arched an overgrown eyebrow at me. “Could you make that work if you did?”
“I could play a Metal Golem,” I said, naming the only Soul I could afford with a single source.
“And attacking with it would be worth being a source behind the rest of the duel?”
I stewed on that. It most likely wouldn’t be. Fast decks almost always used an explosive start, like Esmi summoning and attacking with two kobolds in a go. Gale would likely be doing something similar. “Doubtful,” I finally replied.
“Then try again.”
The next time around I got one of my new Master Shieldbearers in my opening, so I said I’d play that, to which Griff shook his shaggy head again.
“Unless your opponent is breathing down your neck, devoting both your initial sources strangles your future options. Try again.”
This time I vowed to get one of my Metal Golems or my Soulforged Helm, my cheapest cards that I could play regardless of what my opponent was doing. However, even mulliganing my entire opening, it wasn’t until I drew for my turn that I got a Golem as my last card.
“This one,” I said, placing it between us.
Griff looked at the neutral Relic, then me. “Again,” he said.
At first I was put out, but then I realized that he hadn’t actually corrected me, just asked me to do it again. Hoping I had interpreted him correctly, I started over and managed to get to my Helm.
“That’s going to help you against an early enemy summon?” Griff scoffed.
Unlike Edaine’s Shield, the Helm was a one-off, so it was true that I preferred to wait and use it against the strongest Soul my opponent could throw at me. “Not particularly.”
“Again,” he said.
Since the Metal Golem was the only thing he hadn’t commented negatively on, I refocused on that, but after a dozen more tries, I was only able to get one out maybe half the time.
“See the problem yet?” he finally asked.
I sat back, a touch drained even though the drill had been seemingly simple. “My more conservative openings are inconsistent.”
He snorted and then spat a green tinged globule onto the metal floor that I found utterly revolting. “You see that, Stephi, he can be taught.” When I gave him a look, he leaned forward, using a stage whisper. “She wasn’t believing in you the way I was.”
“I see,” I replied, glancing back and forth between the decidedly odd pair.
“Two cards in twenty is what you’re digging for,” Griff continued on, “and that means you’re relying on Fortune more than is healthy. He won’t look out for you the way he has for me. That’s why we got you these.” He snapped his fingers with a dramatic flair. When nothing happened, Griff craned his neck to look at the ever-silent guard. “Sorry, Love. Please?”
What followed next I could hardly believe: the guard pulled cards from their belt, silver-bordered if I was seeing right, and handed them to the chained man, who in turn passed them along to me.
“You purchased these for me?” I asked, unsure how to react. I had seen this Soul being used against Hull by the kestrel summoner but I hadn’t thought to include any in my deck at the time. “And you think they’ll be a good fit?”
“Aye on both counts,” he answered with a pleased crinkle to his eyes. “And why don’t you tell me why I think you need them?”
“Low cost,” I said right away, “so I can open with them, like the Golem. Good health pool, so effective on defense. Flying, so I can attack with them if I ever need.”
“For extra damage, too, when you have some Feral Strength.” He noticed my eyes widen, and he smirked, “That’s right, lad, I listen. And if you’ve played three different Sources before, you know what sort of trouble you can get in…?”
“Not having the right type at the right time,” I said, catching onto his meaning. I reread the text of the Zephyr. “But these can help with that.”
“That it can,” he said with another smile, and this time I didn’t mind the broken landscape it revealed so much. “It’s not just about getting a card out early, boyo, but one that helps you build, like the Golem’s card draw or this one’s refresh.”
It was only now that I realized that the two cards in my hand felt thicker than they should, and I slid my fingers, revealing a third tucked behind the second.
“A full set,” I breathed. “Do you really think I’ll need that many?”
“What did I tell you? You’ve got to commit, lad. Your deck is a smattering of singles and doubles, no consistency.”
It felt somewhat strange to hear a self-proclaimed Chaos user tell me that. “You can’t expect me to have three of everything, especially not my Rares. I’m not Prince Gerad,” I whispered since he was sitting just two seats behind me.
Griff pinned me with a nonsense stare. “What’s your excuse for your Commons and Uncommons?”
I didn’t have one; I had favored diversity at the time, but perhaps, as he was saying, that decision had been a mistake.
“They only had two Metal Golems at the time I purchased them,” I defended myself lamely.
“So, he probably has another by now. Send a runner and buy it!”
I wasn’t quite sure how I would handle my next interaction with Throice, not after Hull had conned them out of an Epic card using my family’s name or my inability to uphold my promise to speak well of their house to my parents when I wasn’t currently talking to either my mother or father.
Griff leaned forward again, maybe taking my hesitation to be reticence. “Chasing too many things at once is no way to build a deck, lad. It’s also no way to live a life. The perfect you’ve been waiting for doesn’t exist, but if you commit to the life you choose, you can make perfection out of near anything.”
That statement didn’t seem to entirely make sense, but I was distracted by Griff offering me his hand. Despite the dirt and grime that covered it, I made myself return the handshake, doing my best not to recoil at all as I did. I owed this man, and I was glad for the opportunity to show it.
He chuckled, gripping my hand and giving it a firm shake. However, when it was over, he kept his hand right where it had been.
“Merits, lad,” he told me, pointing to his palm. “Need you to pay for those cards.”
The Zephyr Souls immediately felt heavier than they had a moment before. “But that’s half the merits I have left.”
“Perfect. They just got another Master Shieldbearer in. Sashra!” he belted across the hall, turning many heads, including the woman at the card stand who I had purchased from before. Griff motioned her over before I could protest.
“But I can only have one Bodyguard summoned at at time,” I hissed at him, hating all the attention we were getting.
“Commit, Little Hintal,” Griff said, clapping me forcefully on the shoulder, leaving a stain I was sure. “You won’t regret it.” He smiled the widest he had all day. “Or maybe you will. I’m just a Chaos user in the wrong kingdom, after all.”
***
Our advisor meeting was the last class of the day, and dinner was a boisterous affair, with everyone who hadn't been in the Vault asking after our artifacts. So, I got to tell them the story Griff hadn’t been interested in hearing: that I had planned to get a sizable Source crystal for Life, but E’lal had informed me that very morning that Life Source cultivation was faster than Order, at least at first, so I had decided to hold off. They were mostly disappointed by the news, the Deepkin especially, which I wouldn’t have minded, giving me more time to speak with Esmi or Hull, but of course, those two were both inundated with questions as well.
I finally begged off to go write a letter to Throice, completely unsure what I was going to say, and had only been in my metal box of a room for a few minutes before I heard the door squeak open. I turned, expecting long-legged E’lal.
“A’cia?” I said, nearly jumping out of my skin at seeing the beautiful elf standing in my entry. “What are you doing here?”
“Greetings,” she said, inclining her head, which made me feel like a barbarian for welcoming her so poorly. “E’lal wished to spend the evening with Ky’reen.”
My self-recrimination was interrupted by that new and curious information. Why had he encouraged my interest in the wolfkin the day before if they were together? “They’re a pair? He made no mention of that…”
She smiled at me, and my chest fluttered involuntarily. The firelight glinted over A’cia’s green hair – a shade darker than E’lal’s, like a leaf in the flush of life – and hinted at the perfect symmetry of her face. Esmi was pretty, more than pretty, but A’cia… I didn’t think I had ever seen anyone as stunningly gorgeous as she was. It was hard even to look away, her flawless form demanding attention like a far off mountain peak or a radiant rainbow.
Suddenly the fire in the room felt too hot, and I moved to bank it.
“We all are,” A’cia said, pulling me up short.
“You… all are?” I turned back to look at her, thinking I had perhaps heard wrong. Her unwavering smile said otherwise. Now it truly felt like the flame was roaring at my back, sweat starting to seep down my neck.
“Why wouldn’t we be?” she asked, tilting her head in the same fashion as E’lal. Having seen the gesture a few times now, it actually wasn’t that different from what we humans did; it was the long, tapered ears that stood out on either side of their heads that made the action seem more pronounced. When I didn’t answer, she gently closed the door. “He also informed me that you have begun cultivating Life, and I have consented to assisting you.”
The way she said the last part made it sound more serious than providing some simple suggestions to a neophyte Life cultivator.
“Thank you. That is very kind of –” I wasn’t sure why she had moved her hand to the top of the loose garment she wore, made of strips of green cloth of various shades, until she pulled one edge of it down, revealing a pale shoulder. “What are you doing?” I half squeaked, taking an involuntary step back.
“Assisting,” she said, perfectly calm as she closed on me. Her eyes never left mine as she advanced, and nearer now, I could see that they were dark purple, like amethysts.
“You can’t mean, you’re not thinking –” I sputtered, while at the same time hearing in my mind what E’lal had said was a stronger way to cultivate Life than watering plants. That’s exactly what she’s thinking.
A’cia put her free hand on my chest. Her touch wasn’t as warm as Esmi’s but it was still quite noticeable. “After a night with me, you’ll be able to summon a Life source.” She leaned closer. “Maybe even two.” I could smell her breath, taste it even. It was like lilacs but with a deeper, earthy scent that was arousing.
“But, but –” I said, having difficulty forming words, “what if we make a child?” There were countless other reasons why the two of us shouldn’t spend a night together, but Twins twist me, that was the one that fell out of my mouth.
“It would be a blessing,” she said, managing to shock me even more than I already was. In my confusion, I failed to resist her slowly guiding me with her hand over to my bed.
“What? Why?” I said. My mind was trying, and failing, to catch up with what was happening.
Her smile turned wan. “Unlike you humans, we elves have difficulty conceiving. This is why the Twins have made us long-lived, so we have more time to make the attempt, and the Twelve reward our efforts.”
Esmi understands me wanting to cultivate Life. Will she understand this? What if I’m up too late with A’cia, and I don’t rise with the sun. I can’t afford to lose another Order source. Air wants me to be free, is this freedom? Damn the source, you love, Esmi. Show her with your actions. But what good is your love for her if you end up dying? Will she thank your corpse for staying true?
My racing, addled thoughts, had a familiar edge of hysteria to them, a sensation that, when I recognized it for what it was, gave me a much needed moment of clarity. Fear was fear, regardless of the catalyst, and I had faced much worse before; I was stronger than this. I planted my feet and removed A’cia’s hand from my chest.
“This offer of yours is very… kind, A’cia. But I am afraid that I cannot accept it.”
She considered me, not angry but perplexed. “You do not wish to learn?”
“I do,” I said, taking a deep breath to help regain proper control of myself. “But I am engaged to another. Esmi, with the kobolds, from our classes.”
“But you two are not yet married?”
The way she said ‘married’ made it clear to me it was a word she was unfamiliar with. “That is true. But being engaged means we are promised to be married, so we behave in many ways as if we already are. One of those ways is staying true to each other. Not bedding other people,” I added when A’cia still seemed somewhat in doubt, “or doing anything physically romantic with anyone else.”
“Your Order cultivation runs deep,” the elf said, more to herself than me.
I went to correct her before realizing that she probably had the right of it: restricting when and who we were intimate with surely created a more ordered society, at least on a familial level.
“I’m sorry,” I offered instead. I had never been propositioned before and had no idea if I was rejecting her appropriately. I hoped I wasn’t doing an unkind job of it.
“There is nothing to apologize for. Growing one thing only to endanger another is not the proper way.” A small laugh escaped her. “Our guide here, Qi’shen, claimed to have educated us on your ways, but I see now that there are still gaps in my knowledge as wide as a valley. No matter.” The look she gave me was more serious now. “You will need to mate with Esmi. It will not be as productive since you are both new and unfamiliar with the proper techniques, so frequency will be important. I can also be there to provide guid –”
“I’m sorry,” I repeated, interrupting her as gently as I could; I wished I had stopped her sooner to avoid imagining what her words had brought to mind. “We can’t do anything like that, not until we are married.”
A’cia frowned at me, seeming like she was starting to get a tad annoyed by my humanisms. “But you claimed being engaged was like being married?”
“It is,” I said, doing my best to be apologetic while also standing firm, “but not in all ways, especially this one.”
“So many barriers here,” she said, shaking her head. “It is no wonder that so few of your people cultivate more than a trace amount of Life. Come,” she said, taking my hand. “I will teach you as we teach children.”
“Children?” I asked, not entirely comfortable to be touching her again. We were, however, moving to the center of the room, away from my bed, which was a good thing, and if it was taught to elf children, it had to be safe, didn’t it?
“Face me,” she said, pulling me down to the empty metal floor. “Knees touching.” I did as she bade, sitting cross-legged directly across from her, the joints of her legs lightly resting against mine. “Eyes here,” she said, pointing to her purple irises, “and try to blink infrequently.” She breathed in deeply, and it was a struggle to keep my attention forward considering how generously the Twins had endowed her. We were close enough that when she exhaled, I felt the edge of her breath tickle my face. “Feel the life in me,” she said. “Now you.” I did my best to mimic her, taking a lungful of air, similar to my Air cultivation, and then blowing it out. “Do not push your breath out,” she said, “let it release naturally. It is a cycle,” she said, breathing in again. “Always around us.” She breathed out, and so I breathed in, realizing this time that I was inhaling her air. I nearly choked, but A’cia was nodding encouragingly. “Yes, that’s right. You take in my Life, I take in yours. Do not stop the cycle.”
I swallowed the air, breathing out raggedly, but with more repetitions, the intimacy of the cultivation grew less intimidating to me. Staring into her eyes helped some with this, primarily because looking at her so directly for such an extended period of time felt like an even worse breach of etiquette than breathing her air. If I was to do something like this, it should be with Esmi, not someone I had first shared words with only a few minutes ago. Still, A’cia’s eyes were beautiful – hypnotic in their uniqueness. I wanted to ask if they were uncommon in her lands, but I got the distinct feeling that I wasn’t supposed to be talking right now.
Eventually though, the awkwardness was too much for me and I had to say something. “Children do this?”
“For hours at a time,” she answered on her exhale. She said it almost as a challenge, and I decided to take it as such, focusing on doing better than those nameless young elves rather than on how this cultivation was making my body increasingly aware how very close it was to another body it found alluring.
“Well done,” she eventually said, breaking eye contact with me.
The change was a shock, and I blinked repeatedly. We must have been at this for at least an hour, if not more, considering how bone dry my eyes felt. Despite my blinking, an afterimage of purple hovered in my vision, and I noticed that I was still breathing in the same shared pattern without conscious effort – which I promptly lost the rhythm of as soon as I focused on it.
“We’ll do more in the morning,” A’cia said, unexpectedly. Then she truly surprised me by disrobing – with no shift underneath – and slipping into E’lal’s bed, the one with vines growing up and around the metal frame. “Rest well.”
I sat on the floor, mouth agape for a time. After the training A’cia had just done with me, I didn’t think I had the heart to tell her that spending the night in the same room as someone who could be construed as a lover was also off limits when engaged, particularly so when that other person slept naked.
When it was obvious she had no other plans than sleeping, I finally got up, shifted the logs of the fire some so they’d gradually burn out, and then crawled into my own bed.
I laid there awake for a time, hearing A’cia breathe – breath that had been on my face not long ago. I shifted, doing my best to rid myself of thoughts that would most certainly not help me slumber. It was a small blessing that the fire had been low when she had disrobed so I had seen very little. Still far too much.
“I seem to keep getting into trouble when Esmi’s not around,” I whispered, so quietly the sound barely reached my own ears. If Esmi happened to stop by in the morning before A’cia left, I wasn’t sure how I was going to explain the elf’s presence. Maybe if I had A’cia demonstrate the Life cultivation we were doing, perhaps guiding Esmi and I through it – just the one made for children, of course. You’re trying to fall asleep, remember? “Twins,” I said with a tiny sigh, shutting my eyes tightly, “please see me married soon. I don’t think I can survive much longer alone.”
Comments
Hailhound
Oh poor Basil. So smart in some ways and so not in others. He and Esmi really need to spend more time together, and finally get married (though obviously there are barriers to that). They balance each other out.
