The very top of Sky Mountain was shaped like a crater. It was filled with snow over black volcanic rocks and stood tall above the clouds. In the fading night, it was filled with sounds more horrible than any battle.

Lilian was screaming at the top of their lungs, a continuous wail that stopped only long enough for them to take a breath and then start again.

D’Argen was responsible for holding their legs down as they thrashed. He was told to be quiet after the third time he called Lilian’s name in a panic. Yaling was right by D’Argen’s hip, holding down an errand arm. She let go at one point and it hit D’Argen across the face hard enough to bruise. He did not let go of Lilian’s legs.

“Just one more moment!” Abbot called over Lilian’s screams. There was the faint scent of oil accompanying his words but medicinal herbs easily overpowered the scent of his magic.

“By the mahee, Abbot, if you say ‘one more moment’ one more time, I swear I will moment you off this voided mountain,” Yaling muttered. She continued with a string of quiet curses that D’Argen heard only because he was so close to her.

“Thar, can you hold their mouth open?” Abbot asked.

“What are you doing?” D’Argen asked in a panic before Thar could say anything.

“I told you. Tea. Well, it is too cold to be proper tea but, a herb.”

“What herb?”

“Something to calm them.”

“Abbot,” D’Argen growled out the artist’s name between clenched teeth.

“Thar, hold their mouth open.”

D’Argen still could not see anything but the thrashing under him increased as the screams were interrupted by gurgling, coughing, and choking. It sounded like they were torturing Lilian. He closed his blind eyes and held Lilian’s legs tighter.

A hand on his shoulder startled him into opening his eyes.

“D’Argen, you can let go now,” Yaling said quietly.

The entire mountain was quiet. Lilian had stopped thrashing at some point and was breathing slow and heavy. It was intercepted by the occasional sob but it was too quiet. They were not sleeping.

“Abbot,” D’Argen called the artist’s name as he stood up.

When Abbot answered him, it was right in front of him. D’Argen listened carefully and concentrated. Abbot was saying something but he could not listen to the words at all. Instead, he focused on where they were coming from. Even with blind eyes, he knew where Abbot’s face was.

The slap he aimed for the artist’s cheek would have landed if he had not stopped himself at the last moment. He clenched his fist and bit his tongue. Nobody dared to move or say anything.

Lilian gasped out a sob. Their breathing steadied. It turned deep.

D’Argen dropped his hand and hissed out slowly, “Do not ever fucking ignore me again.”

“I apologize,” Abbot responded immediately.

“How are they?”

“Sleeping,” Yaling answered.

“I didn’t ask you! Abbot! How are they?”

“May I conduct a quick exam?” Abbot asked, his voice low and careful.

D’Argen only released one sharp nod and then crossed his arms over his chest. The anger burning inside him was there only to overshadow the fear. He knew it was unfair to take it out on Abbot but that knowledge did not stop him.

Abbot shuffled around. Lilian’s breathing changed. He said something quiet and Lilian responded even more quietly. D’Argen did not hear their words. Then Abbot returned to stand in front of D’Argen.

“Awake. Not in pain. A few visible wounds but they will heal shortly. Their mahee is fine.”

“Lilian?” D’Argen finally let his voice soften.

This book's true home is on another platform. Check it out there for the real experience.

Lilian hummed out something that sounded like a confirmation or an affirmation.

“What did you give them?”

“Cannabis tea,” Abbot replied. “Well… a much more concentrated version. Something Lilain created. It has a calming—”

“Thank you,” D’Argen interrupted. He would not apologize for the almost slap though. Should he? He probably should. He opened his mouth to try and figure out how the apology should come out.

“I’m sorry!” He blurted out without thinking. “When… when you and Yaling were unconscious… I, uh… I had to reach into your mahee to… umm… check. I’m sorry for not asking for your permission.” See? That one was easy. Not the right apology, but one he had to make anyway.

“Forgiven,” Abbot replied immediately. Yaling echoed him.

“And… ummm…” he opened his mouth again to try and apologize for the almost slap. Was it worth it? Of course, it was. Before any more jumbled words could make it out though, a heavy hand landed on his shoulder.

It startled him but the hand remained, anchoring him down.

“We are all fine,” Thar said from behind him.

D’Argen closed his mouth. Fuck.

“Abbot?”

“Yes?”

“I am sorry,” he said the words slowly. “I don’t know what came over me.”

“Uhh… it… it happens?” He sounded so unsure!

“No! It doesn’t. And if I ever reach out to you in anger again, you will stop me! Now that is an order. Do you understand?”

“Oh! Oh. Yes. Yes, sir. I mean… we are good. I promise. If anything… consider it payback for me blinding a higher-ranking god.”

“You what?!” Yaling screamed.

“I… uhh…wait, you remember?!” D’Argen spoke at the same time.

“Well, no, I do not remember it, but I remember shining a light in a mimic demon’s eyes that just so happened to be screaming at me it was D’Argen and you happen to be blind. Plus, Thar was fighting a demon that was a bear. I just put two and two together.”

“Well, you came to four a lot faster than we did. Wait mimic? No. It wasn’t—”

“Can I see your eyes?” Yaling asked from right beside him, interrupting his thoughts.

D’Argen nodded. “Umm… Abbot?”

“Yea, D’Argen. It looks like we all saw different things and—”

“I am sorry. Truly,” D’Argen interrupted, focusing on what was more important to him now. The demons and sightings? They could talk about those later. But he needed to make sure that Abbot knew he did not mean the artist any harm. Ever. It was itching at him that he even reached out to the other. Something about it felt so wrong. He would not let this go. Not until—

“We are good, D’Argen. I promise.”

D’Argen felt Yaling’s hands on his arm then his face, turning him. He wanted to flinch away from the touch but Yaling was too strong. Her thumbs pulled down at the skin right under his eyes and D’Argen clenched his eyes tight.

“You know that… you know that ranks don’t mean shit to me. Right? I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have even thought it. You knew what you were doing and telling me every step would have only delayed it further.”

“Open, open,” Yaling directed.

“I know. Seriously. Drop it. You are making a bigger deal out of it than it is.”

D’Argen squinted one eye open only for a moment before closing it tight again. But it was a big deal. He had almost harmed another Never Born. Just the thought made him sick to his stomach. True, it would have been a slap that would have faded in seconds, but that anger was not him. And, even if it was, his mahee should have stopped the thought from even forming! Something was wrong. With him. With this mountain. With this entire fucking situation.

“Does it hurt?” Abbot asked from somewhere over his shoulder. The artist moved too quietly.

“Umm… no… not really…”

The scoff from Yaling revealed his lie was easily seen through.

“Yes, yes it hurts. Especially when you’re trying to force my eyes open!”

“How long has it been?” Yaling asked as she held one of his eyes open with two fingers. “I swear, it feels like I have been asleep for days.”

“Pretty much,” D’Argen answered and then backed up. He waved his hand in the air to keep hers off his face and clenched his eyes closed again. He wanted his blindfold back.

“Your eyes look fine. In fact, they should have healed already with your mahee.”

“I didn’t have much left before.”

“Then give it a day, not even. Do you need to replenish?”

D’Argen nodded. Then shook his head. Yaling let out a huff of air.

“Is everyone okay?” D’Argen finally asked.

“Well… Lilian is just lying there and Thar is bleeding up a river over here, otherwise, we are fine.”

D’Argen was not sure which one of Abbot’s points he should focus on. Not much he could do about Thar though, not with both Yaling and Abbot there, both of whom were much better in the healing arts than D’Argen. And Lilian was closer. He walked a few steps until he felt a hand on his leg. He crouched, touched Lilian’s cold skin, then sat down right beside them, holding their hand between both of his own.

Movement around him had him flinching but he held Lilian tight. They held back but the grip was loose.

“Thar?” D’Argen finally asked and then cleared his throat. “How bad is it?”

“It is numb.”

D’Argen was not sure where Abbot was standing but with blind eyes, he would not be able to convey his command anyway. Instead, he motioned with his free hand in the direction of Thar’s voice and only said the artist’s name.

“Come here,” Abbot said. Thar grunted but he was being taken care of.

“How is your mahee?” D’Argen asked.

“Replenishing. Slowly.” Thar answered.

“Can you make it go faster? I want us off this mountain as soon as possible.”

Thar hummed and then groaned.

“Sorry,” Abbot said quietly. “Oh wow… you will definitely need your mahee to heal this up otherwise it will scar pretty badly. Your tattoos are almost completely destroyed.”

“Tattoos?” Yaling voiced the question D’Argen wanted to ask.

A shuffle, a grunt, and no reply came.

“Yaling,” D’Argen called her name. She shifted from his other side. “There is some scent around here. It makes us see and hear things. Can you cover it up with something?”

“Here, take this,” Abbot said.

“Ah, got it,” she answered back.

D’Argen heard her shuffling around him and a moment later he recognized the strong scent of tobacco in the air. It may not be strong enough come nightfall, when the hallucinations were the strongest, but it would hopefully do for the dawning day.