A Moment’s Rest
Adelaide trudged forward on leaden feet.
Once the rush of battle—and victory—had faded, exhaustion had quickly overtaken her body. She’d spent most of her own red mana and much of Plum’s, though by now she’d regained feeling in her extremities. There was no helping the fatigue and soreness that threatened to drag her to the ground.
Plum was even worse for wear. She practically stumbled her way down the uneven dirt path towards the lightline, leaning heavy on Adelaide, who held them both upright through sheer force of will.
Theoderic marched at the front of the group, as unflagging as a raging river, but the others looked almost as exhausted as Adelaide felt. Caliburn walked solemnly behind Theoderic, and his usually immaculate tunic was rumpled and grass-stained in several places. Liana and Willam took up the back, trudging along, and even through the exhaustion Adelaide was surprised by the fact that they leaned against each other.
Plum mumbled something into Adelaide’s shoulder, and Adelaide blinked as her lagging brain made sense of the words.
“How much farther?” Adelaide asked, louder than Plum could manage. “I do not know how much longer she can walk,” she added, gesturing at Plum, though the gesture was lost in the darkness of the night.
“We’re nearly there,” Theoderic answered, his gruff voice as strong as ever. “We can rest after we take the lightline back.”
Adelaide nodded, though she knew he wouldn’t see it, and couldn’t force her mouth to make the sounds to answer out loud.
As she focused on putting one foot in front of the other, the banality of it let Adelaide’s mind wander. Her thoughts wound around each other like a tangled knot in a fraying rope. She vacillated between fear and pride and hope and anguish like the swinging arm of a clock, but she kept returning to a single horrific sight in her mind’s eye—that of Elora’s face, shattered and bloody, as Plum’s blade plunged through it like a hot knife through wax.
Adelaide shuddered at the memory and glanced down at Plum. The other woman’s eyes were closed as she leaned heavily against Adelaide’s shoulder. She seemed barely able to walk, much less talk about the person she’d just killed.
Adelaide squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head as if to scatter the dark thoughts.
Later, Adelaide, she thought. You can process it later.
With a start, Adelaide realized what her own thoughts had just betrayed. She’d thought of herself as Adelaide, even in front of several people who did not know her secret. Her pulse thrummed in her ears at the realization and the terror that came with it.
More to discuss with Plum, I suppose, she thought, and set to focus herself on walking, shaking her head again to banish her thoughts.
Adelaide spent the rest of the walk to the lightline waystation with her head down and her head empty. When she focused on it, the walk could consume a surprising amount of her awareness, and she was grateful for the chance to not think for a while.
Adelaide was only dimly aware of arriving at the waystation and traveling through the lightline. She wasn’t even sure if Liana had borrowed yellow mana from her again, but she must not have—Adelaide surely had none left to spare.
Once they were back in the Algaran waystation, Theoderic finally called out the order to rest. Adelaide slumped to the ground, pulling Plum with her. She dimly recalled that she had an extra tunic she could use as a pillow, but exhaustion overtook her before she could dig it out of her pack. With Plum slumped against her, Adelaide felt her eyelids droop, and she fell into blissful sleep.
Adelaide woke with a scream trapped in her throat.
Her heart raced as her eyes darted around the room. What had happened? Where was she? The room was dark, with only slivers of moonlight peeking through cracks in the ceiling.
Slowly, Adelaide’s pulse calmed, and the rapid rise and fall of her shoulder slowed. She gradually remembered where she was—the lightline waystation, having just returned from the Golden Hold, and she’d just been woken by a nightmare. She winced as the memory of the dream flooded back in—the ruined face of a knight peering back at her in the darkness.
Adelaide was sitting upright, propped against the wall, and Plum was curled up next to her with her head on her lap. Her familiar warmth was at once comforting and disconcerting, and Adelaide needed to relieve herself anyway. She extricated herself from Plum carefully, sliding that extra tunic under her head to give her a pillow. She barely stirred as Adelaide stood and made her way to the room’s exit.
Adelaide crept up the stairs, trying to disturb her sleeping companion as little as possible. She stepped out into the cool night air and took a deep breath. She thought she smelled rain in the air—had it stormed here earlier?
“Hey, kid,” said a voice from next to the doorway. Adelaide practically jumped out of her skin.
Theoderic chuckled as Adelaide whirled, wide-eyed. When she saw him, she let out a breath of relief.
“Sorry!” she said, a hand to her chest to calm her racing heart. “I did not know you were there.”
“Nothing to be sorry for, lass,” Theoderic replied. “I’m just sitting here keeping watch.” He sat on a piece of fallen rubble, and leaned haphazardly against the wall. He held a softly smoldering pipe in his hand, the silver smoke drifting lazily upwards into the sky.
“Should you not sleep?” Adelaide asked.
“You kids need it more than me,” he answered, taking a drag from his pipe. “I’ll be fine.”
Theoderic trailed the smoke upwards with his eyes, saying nothing further. Adelaide followed his gaze, and leaned against the wall next to him.
“That was yer first time,” Theoderic eventually said softly. “Wasn’t it?”
Adelaide winced and furrowed her brow. “Yes,” she whispered back. “It was.”
Theoderic nodded, puffing on his pipe.
“I wish I could say it gets easier,” he said, still watching the smoke rise. “But it never does.” He blew smoke out of his mouth, and it joined the stream from the smoldering end of his pipe in swirling upwards.
“I still remember the face of the first person I saw die,” he said abruptly. “Kid can’t’ve been older than 16 years. I was a soldier, y’know.” He chuckled softly. “First time I ever went out in public as me was to sign on. Shadow and shade, I was young…
“My first battle came along and I thought it’d be like the stories, y’know? Magic flying and glorious cavalry charges. But a real fight, truly facing down another person who’s tryin’ to kill you? It’s nothin’ like the stories.” He took a long, long drag from his pipe.
Theoderic was silent for a few minutes. Adelaide leaned against the wall and watched the stars as Theoderic sat, seemingly lost in thought. Eventually, Theoderic grunted and leaned forward, finally looking at Adelaide directly.
“But you know all that, don’t you, lass?”
Adelaide swallowed hard, and nodded.
Theoderic sighed. “Dim it all, we’re s’posed to be keepin’ the kids safe…” he trailed off, his eyes turning upwards again.
“‘Nough about that,” Theoderic said forcefully. “Just the ramblings of a man who’s seen far too much. There’s somethin’ else botherin’ you, isn’t there?”
Adelaide swallowed again. “Y-yeah,” she stammered. “There is.”
“I’ve an ear, if you’ve the voice.”
“I…” Adelaide hesitated. She wasn’t afraid to tell Theoderic this—he already knew her secret and had been nothing but wonderful to her about it. But to even say this out loud was a huge leap forward, and saying it out loud would make it feel… real.
Adelaide opened and closed her mouth a few times, trying to find the words. Theoderic sat patiently, still puffing away on his pipe.
“I think that I am ready,” Adelaide said eventually. She had to practically force the words out.
Theoderic nodded. He knew what she meant. “So what’s keepin’ you?” he asked simply.
“Nothing, I suppose,” Adelaide answered, feeling silly. “Should I not wait until we are back at the Law? And tell everyone at once?”
Theoderic shrugged. “That’s up to you, lass. There aren’t exactly rules for this sort of thing.” He looked at her again, and Adelaide met his eyes sheepishly. “Are you afraid?”
“Of course!” Adelaide exclaimed. “If I had not been before I certainly would be now. My mother is actively hunting me down for it!”
Theoderic grunted. “And yet,” he said, gesturing with his free hand. “Yer here.”
Adelaide looked away, ashamed.
“Y’know, kid,” Theoderic continued, unabashed. “I once asked a very dear friend how she was so brave. She laughed, and told me that fear isn’t the enemy we like to think it is. Fear is good, it keeps us safe and secure. We need to be afraid sometimes, even when it feels like it’s rippin’ us up inside.
“Bravery isn’t a lack of fear, she said. True bravery is being so afraid that you feel like everything is shatterin’ underneath ya, and then takin’ that first step anyway.” He looked back at Adelaide and gave her a rare, crooked smile, and Adelaide felt her eyes well over with tears.
“I believe in you, kid,” Theoderic said softly, and then looked back upwards. “I really do.”
Adelaide sniffled quietly and wiped her eyes with her sleeve.
“I…” she hesitated. There was so much she could say, but how to say it? “Thank you, Theoderic,” she said instead.
He smiled again and took the pipe from his mouth.
“Want a hit?” he asked, holding it out to her. The smell of the smoke alone burned Adelaide’s nostrils, and she fought back a cough.
“No, thank you,” she replied, laughing softly. “I think you have done more than enough for me already. Goodnight.”
With a nod, Adelaide stepped behind the ruins to do her business, and then returned to her spot next to Plum by the lightline. Plum sleepily snuggled back up to her, and Adelaide let herself drift off to sleep.
Once we return, she thought as she drifted off. I shall finally be me.
The morning came far quicker than Adelaide would have liked. She woke up sore from sleeping upright, with Plum still curled up against her. The two of them were the last remaining members of the group in the lightline chamber, and a part of Adelaide smarted at not being the first one up as she usually was.
She roused Plum, who eventually woke with no small amount of protestation. Adelaide smoothed out Plum’s hair as she sat up, bleary-eyed and pouting.
“G’mornin,’” Plum grumbled.
“Good morning, Plum,” Adelaide responded softly. She let her hand linger on Plum’s cheek after smoothing her hair, and her gaze fell onto Plum’s eyes. She felt as though she could drown in those dark pools, and for a moment she let herself be lost.
Plum’s cheeks colored, and she broke her gaze away.
“Do we have breakfast?” she asked, pointedly looking anywhere other than back at Adelaide.
They quickly ate a breakfast of nuts and dried fruit in relative silence. Adelaide felt a tension in herself rise, and she shifted uncomfortably as they ate,
“I think,” she said eventually. “That I am going to tell everyone. Once we get back.”
Plum stopped, a mouthful of dried berries half-chewed in her mouth. She looked to Adelaide wide-eyed, and quickly finished the mouthful before grinning dazzlingly. Adelaide’s heart skipped a beat.
“Really?” Plum exclaimed. “Adelaide, that is wonderful!”
Adelaide forced a smile. “I spoke to Theoderic last night,” she said. Plum’s smile faltered for a half a heartbeat.
“And he… gave you the courage?” Plum asked, already grinning wide again.
“‘Tis more that… he showed me I already have it, I suppose,” Adelaide mused.
Plum cocked her head, but still smiled. “I am glad, love. What do you need from me?”
Adelaide shrugged. “I do not know. Just… be here for me?”
Plum placed her hand on top of Adelaide’s and gave it a squeeze. “Of course, Addie,” she said softly. “Always.”
Adelaide took a breath and smiled back at Plum.
“Come on, love,” Plum said, pulling herself to her feet and offering a hand. “Let us go home.”
The walk back to Algaran passed quickly. The group still seemed exhausted, but even a night’s fitful rest was enough to see them the rest of the way back to the city. Adelaide’s head was filled with anxieties and fears, and she nodded absently as Plum offered to glamour them again.
They returned to the Fifth Law with no incident, and as they broke to their individual chambers, Theoderic pulled Adelaide aside. She waved Plum along to their shared chamber and followed Theoderic to his study.
“You holdin’ up okay?” he asked once they’d both been seated.
Adelaide nodded. “Just nervous,” she answered, fidgeting with the hem of her tunic.
“D’you want me to call a meeting?”
Adelaide hesitated, but nodded again. “Can I have a few hours? I should greatly like a bath.”
Theoderic smirked, and nodded. “Of course, lass. Take as much time as you need. Come find me when you’re ready.”
Adelaide nodded again, and then, feeling silly, quickly left his study and made her way back to her shared chamber with Plum.
When she got there, Plum was already fast asleep. It looked like she’d barely taken her shoes off before collapsing into bed. Adelaide smiled fondly and gathered her things to head to the baths.
The baths were situated past the latrines and were, fortunately, not divided by gender. Instead, they were a pair of small chambers, big enough that two people could sit together should they choose. Adelaide stepped into one and locked the door behind her.
The room was dimly lit by a lamp on the wall, and the smooth stone had been cut into a large basin in the middle. The basin had a bench on either side for bathers to sit, and a valve on the wall would fill it with water.
The large basin was empty, so Adelaide opened the valve to let water flow in. Keep Vermillion had similar mechanisms, so she knew that there was likely a reservoir hidden somewhere that stored the water. It was likely the same water that the washbasins and latrines used.
The water came out cool and refreshing, but Adelaide was desperate for a hot bath. She thought for a moment and then stepped up to the side of the rapidly filling tub.
Thinking of how the air grew cold when she drew in yellow mana for her morning ritual, Adelaide instead pushed in the opposite direction: she pushed her red mana outwards after converting it to yellow.
The effect felt remarkably similar to when she grew her barrier, but there was no familiar orange shimmer in the air. Instead, the air in front of her bent and wavered, like the air above stones on a hot summer day. The water in front of her rippled, and when she stuck a hand in, she felt that it was growing warmer.
Once she was satisfied with the temperature of the water, Adelaide straightened and steeled herself. She peeled off her tunic and trousers, and then hesitated. Her underclothes consisted of a tight fitting pair of short breeches to keep everything smooth and a cloth wrap around her chest to hide it. She unwound the chest wrap and felt a flood of relief as her chest became visible again. Her dawn magic ritual was paying off, and though they weren’t exactly large, she was thrilled to see breasts where their absence had once caused so much pain.
She put her hands to the tie of her breeches and hesitated again. This was always the worst part of undressing. She took a sharp breath inward and pulled the breeches off, carefully avoiding looking for too long at what had just been revealed.
Adelaide stepped into the warm bath and sighed as she sank down into the water. The warmth enveloped her, and she sank down to her chin. After a few moments, she sank even farther, and, closing her eyes, submerged herself completely in the water.
Adelaide felt her hair float upwards in the water as she sank to the bottom of the tub. The dim lighting wasn’t enough to light through the water and her eyelids, so she found herself floating in darkness. She could almost pretend that she was floating in an empty void, with nothing around her and nothing left in the universe except her. It was… strangely peaceful. Adelaide felt a level of serenity that surprised her as she floated, and let her mind float into nothingness for a while too.
Embrace this.
Adelaide’s eyes shot open. The words had felt like a thought, but somehow… different. It hadn’t felt like her own thoughts, or her own words. It almost felt as though someone was speaking to her, but with no words.
She screwed her eyes shut again, ignoring the burning from the water.
Embrace this peace, the thought came again. This time, she was sure that it was not her own thought. She could faintly feel a… pressure, coming from inside her head. She pushed back against it, and felt an odd resistance. She pushed harder, and suddenly it was like she’d broken a dam.
A presence loomed at the back of Adelaide’s mind. Adelaide had felt Plum’s mind before, but this was nothing like that. The presence she touched now felt larger—enormous, in fact. She somehow had the sense that what touched her mind now was greater than she could comprehend.
And it felt… sad.
Let yourself go, it whispered to her. Be at peace. As it spoke, Adelaide felt a profound grief. Its words made her think of all she had lost—her home, her mother, the life she could have led—and she felt an overwhelming desire to do just as the voice said.
Adelaide tried to gasp but took in a lungful of water instead. Panicking, she thrashed in the water. She kicked into the side of the tub, and a bolt of pain shot up her leg. She finally managed to pull herself up out of the water and staggered to the edge of the tub, coughing up water and sputtering for air.
She reached out for the presence but, other than a lingering sense of loss, it was gone. Her mind was her own again.
She set herself down on the edge of the tub, heart racing, as she tried to catch her breath.
What in the dark was that? she thought. Had that even really happened? Had she imagined it, or fallen asleep and dreamed it?
I must have, she told herself. But it felt so real…
Adelaide waited for her body to calm down, and forced her mind to think about anything else.
Naught but the imaginings of an overexerted mind, she thought again. She wasn’t sure if she truly believed that or was trying to convince herself.
Eventually, her heartbeat slowed and her breath returned. Her shoulders slumped as she relaxed, and she let herself sink back into the water. By now, though, it had gone tepid, and she had little chance of relaxing more anyway. With a grunt, she forced herself back to her feet and found the plug to the drain. She pulled it, and the water level began to fall. She sat back on the edge of the tub and stared at the water. She let her mind empty of thoughts and watched as the water began to circle the drain.
When she came back into her thoughts, the tub was empty, and her skin had mostly dried. She took a breath and shook her head, disconcerted. She wrapped her hair in a towel and dressed. She still had a meeting to prepare for, after all.
“I should have liked a few hours, at least,” she muttered, and headed back to her room.
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