D’Argen was sitting on the toppled chaise, the wooden frame digging into his ass uncomfortably but easy to ignore. He was staring down at his hands, trying to pick the dried blood out from under his nails.
It was a lost cause, especially as his hands were completely stained in it. Every fold of skin was darker than the skin around it. If he could see colours, he could probably compare the blood to the rouge Yaling sometimes used on her cheeks. Or maybe like the gloss Abbot often put on his lips. It could have been orange, or brown, or another colour altogether as he twisted his hand around and the light hit it a different way.
But that was all wishful thinking.
Even without being able to see colour, he knew what blood looked like. It was more than a stain.
It was easier to focus on cleaning the dried flakes and trying to guess their colour than thinking about what had just happened. How he had missed it. Lilian had been acting strange since Sky Mountain. They were quieter, more severe, and their cries on the summit still echoed inside D’Argen’s head.
Yet he had ignored it all.
Lilian said they were fine and D’Argen believed them. They smiled and D’Argen smiled back. They walked away and D’Argen let them.
He had gone to Acela to report. He had spent a night with Vah’mor to catch up.
He had left Lilian.
He thought they were safe. Now, that they were back home.
But Lilian did not believe that. Was it… was it something about the castle? Did they somehow forget they had returned to Evadia? No. Lilian had probably spent most of the night with Vain in the apothecary with those voided mushrooms.
That had to be it. The mushrooms.
Lilian must have successfully made them release their spores and more hallucinations to happen.
D’Argen glanced up at that thought to look for Vain and ask him. Then he remembered, Vain was inside Lilian’s sleeping chambers. His hands trembled.
Earlier, when D’Argen was trying to hold Lilian down and a crowd was gathering at his back, Simeal had been in that crowd. The court physician had slipped through and done something, her mahee surrounding both D’Argen and Lilian. D’Argen was not sure what happened but he was pulled back and Lilian was picked up.
Lilian started screaming almost immediately, thrashing in the physician’s arms. Simeal almost dropped her. Lilian kept on muttering something about “home” though their eyes remained focused on where D’Argen was collapsed on the ground, unable to move.
“Fine, fine. Here, help me,” Simeal said and though D’Argen thought it was directed at both Lilian and him, it was Vain that moved first. The scholar was my Simeal’s side and the two carried Lilian into their sleeping chambers.
Then the doors closed.
D’Argen was not sure what happened to the rest of the crowd outside the main doors, but they were now closed and only D’Argen, Yaling, and Abbot remained in Lilian’s receiving chambers.
Yaling was standing right beside D’Argen, a firm grip on his shoulder that felt more like it was there to ground her rather than the runner. Abbot was collapsed on the ground right by his feet, leaning slightly into D’Argen’s legs to give contact but not pressure.
The doors clicked open and both D’Argen and Abbot shot to their feet. Vain closed them gently and leaned back against the doors. He looked tired. There was blood visible on his cheek and forehead, a swipe of an errand hand maybe.
“Lilian wants to talk to you,” Vain said, looking right at D’Argen.
The runner was moving forward without even thinking. Only Vain, still standing in front of the closed doors, stopped him from advancing further. He looked down at the shorter man in confusion.
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“It is not good,” Vain warned with a tremble in his voice. “I want you to—”
“Just move,” D’Argen interrupted.
Vain let out a heavy sigh, nodded, and stepped away. D’Argen was through the doors before he even registered it. Vain said something to the other two and then the doors closed softly.
D’Argen could not pay attention to that. Instead, he was looking at Lilian’s tiny body hidden under a soft feather blanket and swaths of already stained bandages. Simeal was sitting on the edge of the bed with a wooden bowl in her lap. D’Argen only glanced at her for a moment before focusing on Lilian. They were smiling but their eyes were still wet.
“I take it I made you panic,” Lilian said and their voice was hoarse.
After all the screaming they had done earlier, D’Argen was surprised they had a voice at all. He moved quickly and sat on the edge of the bed, reaching for one of Lilian’s bound hands.
“Ah-ah!” Simeal interrupted him. “Hands down. Until the cuts heal,” she directed without looking at them.
Instead of picking up Lilian’s hand, as he had intended, D’Argen slipped one of his under theirs. He gripped tight but the grip back was weak.
“Yea,” D’Argen finally confirmed Lilian’s earlier words. “You definitely made me panic. Are you alright?”
Lilian did not respond verbally, shaking their head slowly and though the grip on his hand increased, it was for barely a moment before it went slack again when pain covered their features. Simeal clicked her tongue and finally put the wooden bowl away. She got up from the bed and started checking Lilian’s bandages again. They were already staining.
D’Argen kept a grip on Lilian’s one hand while he watched Simeal unwind the bandages. The wounds were visible now. There were long lines and short stabs, and they circled all sides of Lilian’s arm from below their elbow to the palm. The deep cut on their palm was one of two that was still bleeding.
“Hey,” Lilian called and he turned to look at them.
“What happened?” D’Argen finally asked when he saw the grimace on Lilian’s face. “You’ve… I mean we have… I thought…”
“I thought I could go home.”
Simeal visibly froze where she was cleaning one of the wounds.
“We are home, Lilian. We’re in Evadia,” D’Argen held onto their hand tight.
“No, D’Argen. Not here. Not… not this realm.”
“What?”
“Where do you think we go when we die?” Lilian asked. Simeal visibly trembled as she started winding bandages around Lilian’s arm again. “I think, no, I feel like I know… we go home. Back to where we were before we came to this wretched realm and these unthankful mortals.”
D’Argen felt the anger pouring out of Lilian but he was still confused. “How do—”
“Sky Mountain,” Lilian interrupted him before he could finish his question. It was not an answer but, at the same time, it was.
D’Argen thought back to everything Lilian had told him about their experience on the mountain and though he knew Lilian was not telling them everything, this was… this was something different. Just as he opened his mouth to ask though, the doors burst open.
Simeal looked up with a scowl but D’Argen was too surprised by who was standing there.
Acela, covered in white and gold with her hair intricately braided, was staring down her nose at the three of them. Behind Acela, D’Argen could see Abbot, Yaling, and Vain, all cowed with their necks bared to Acela’s back. Behind them, the main doors were open and most of the original crowd was still there.
“Are you done?” Acela asked, her question sounding more like an order.
“I have to rebandage the other arm,” Simeal said with her eyes to the ceiling, bearing her neck.
“And you? What are you doing here?” Acela snapped, her eyes focused on D’Argen.
“Lilian asked for me.”
“Lilian has no say at the moment. Not until they explain what just happened. Get out.”
D’Argen bristled at the command and tightened his grip on Lilian. He refused to move.
Acela narrowed her eyes at him, obviously annoyed that he did not listen to her orders. “D’Argen,” she growled out his name and the scent of her mahee, that of a warm summer day with the sun shining down on him, wafted over him. “I said, get out.”
D’Argen felt her mahee bore into him, her powers of persuasion making his grip loosen on Lilian without his consent. Then, the hand in his twitched and D’Argen firmed his resolve. He raised his chin, revealing his neck but also jutting out his jaw in defiance. “No.”
Acela looked visibly startled, the anger on her face washing away for a moment to show surprise before she visibly steeled herself.
“D’Argen,” another voice, a new one, called his name. He looked past Acela to see Arehal. He had not seen Arehal in centuries. More than any of the others. She was not a god of anything only because she preferred to blend in and live among the mortals. Her presence here was enough of a surprise for D’Argen’s grip to slacken. “Come with me,” she said.
D’Argen refused to get up. Acela narrowed her eyes at him.
“Go,” Lilian said from beside him. He turned to face them and noticed a faint smile on Lilian’s lips. “I need to rest anyway.”
“Like she’ll let you rest,” D’Argen muttered under his breath.
Lilian smiled and tried to squeeze his hand. It was so weak.
“Please. I do not want you fighting here. Go.”
D’Argen finally conceded. He leaned over Lilian, dropping a kiss on their forehead, and then got up. Acela was still glaring at him as he walked out of Lilian’s sleeping chambers. She closed the doors with a slam that made him flinch.