"I dreamed a little dream of thee" - by Mnar.

Post date: Jul 7, 2020 5:14:53 AM

“You said you were going to bring him back here,” the little human girl says.

She looks to be about eight or nine years old, with the serious expression that always comes across as charming when worn by young children. She sits across the small table from Alosaka, a tiny little teacup held in her delicate grip. The table is set out with the rest of the tea set, and stuffed animals sit at the other chairs. There is Mister Bear, with a missing button eye, and Madam Purrfect, the tortoiseshell cotton cat. The table is too small for Alosaka to use a chair, so he sits cross-legged on a blanket. It’s a comfortable position for him.

“To face justice, you said,” she continues. A little frown appears on her lips, and she sets the teacup down on its saucer. “Well?”

“I know it’s not perfect,” Alosaka says. He considers his own teacup, filled with some cloudy concoction that doesn’t resemble any tea he is familiar with, then looks back at the girl. “There will be a trial in Mist Harbor, and then he’ll be punished there. It’s better than nothing, isn’t it?”

“No!” She smacks the table with her palm, rattling the tea set. To the side, Mister Bear tumbles out of his chair. “You said here! You lied!”

Kuon help me. He rubs his forehead with the back of his hand. A faint headache is already building there. “I know. I know what I said. But this is still justice. Everyone agreed—”

“They agreed because they know they can cheat!” she interrupts. “Did you see how Faerinn was smiling? Because he knows! I’m surprised they didn’t all burst out laughing when you said yes!”

“I…” The headache is building. A buzzing sound seems to build from somewhere, like a thousand cicadas singing in the trees outside. He stares down at his teacup and its dark contents. “How… how do you know that? You weren’t there.”

“And Naamit.” A look of true fear passes across the girl’s face. She looks over her shoulder, as though the woman might have somehow snuck up on them. “That town is her home. You think they’ll care if she just makes you vanish? They’ll give her an award! And you’re just going to walk back there?!”

“This… this is wrong.” The buzz is louder now. The little teacup spills out of his numb fingers and discharges its cargo of blood all over the table. “You weren’t there. You’re not even here—”

“You promised!” the girls shrieks. She climbs up onto the table, and her arm fails, falling apart where the reapers’ teeth carved it away from her torso. A slick spur of bone protrudes from the gore. Still she continues, crawling across the table, pieces tumbling away with every inch, until all that remains is a three-fingered hand that grasps at Alosaka’s tunic and claws its way upward. In his head, in between the buzzing of the cicadas and his own horrified screams, he hears her still. You promised. You promised!

YOU PROMISED YOU PROMISED YOU PROM—

He tumbles back, away from the table, and lands on the sanded cedar floor beside his bed. Sweat-slick sheets tangle around his legs, and he kicks them away with a desperate cry. A word, a gesture, and light fills the room, blinding like the sun in its intensity, until his night-shocked eyes adjust and the glare resolves itself into the simple, hard shapes of his room in the Empath Guild’s dormitory.

He lays there, panting, wedged in the small space between the bed and the wall. He is of high enough rank for a notionally private room, with its own desk, but there is no door, only a plain white sheet split down the middle, offering a small measure of separation from the hallway and the hospital beyond.

Footsteps intrude on the silence, and the curtain across his doorway parts, revealing a gnomish attendant. She looks at the room, looks at him, then sighs and vanishes.

A few minutes later she is back. Her little arms have more strength than one would expect, and she hoists him back onto the thin mattress. He’s not wearing much, not at night in the summer heat, and a flush crawls up his chest and face at the realization. But then, she’s a healer – it’s nothing she hasn’t seen before.

“Here.” She presses a small cup into his hand. “Drink.”

He takes a sip. Milk, hot, and a tang of bitterness. He lets it sit on his tongue for a moment. “Laudanum?”

“Just enough to help you sleep. Drink.”

He does. After a moment his tongue gets used to the unusual bitterness, and all he can taste is the milk.

“Thank you.” His words slur. A fog seems to fill the room, and he realizes he’s looking up at the ceiling. The attendant whispers an arcane phrase, and the light vanishes as quickly as it came.

There are no leaflets this time. Perhaps their novelty was wearing off. Or the scrivener was simply closed for the day.

Instead a man stands by the fountain Gardenia Commons. He has a bell in one hand, and rings it regularly. When, after a few rings and enough people are staring in his direction, he raises his voice and shouts to all who will hear.

“Hear ye, hear ye!” His voice is hoarse from hours of this, but he is still enthusiastic. He must be getting paid well. “Rejoice, citizens of Mist Harbor! The criminal and monster Socius Leiffen has surrendered for trial, for the murder of countless innocents! Now, at last, our own town may be free of his reign! We need no longer fear his dagger! And the bounty placed for his capture is cancelled!”

The crier’s words generated mixed reactions. Most are neutral, their faces barely betraying any expression except curiosity. A few laugh and slap their friends on their backs. But a fair number glower darkly at the news. Whether they are friends of Socius’, or merely hoped to claim the bounty for themselves, is known only to them.

[Original: 07/05/2020]