The wooden doors that separated D’Argen’s room from the rest of the complex he must have been in were light. They almost matched the walls around them in shade, though he knew the walls to be made of sandstone. The wood was carved into the intricate shapes of flowers and leaves and vines with what could have been either dunes or waves at the bottom. The open window where D’Argen had heard the signing coming from had no shutters, only a thin and transparent sheet that swayed with the breeze and still let in the light of the midday sun. The bed he was on was soft, feathers and cotton most likely, but small – small enough for a healer to lean over him from either side. The sheets were light, a thin linen that would keep him from sweating, and the robe he wore was of the same material with a single tie at the waist.

He knew this place.

He missed this place.

D’Argen was sitting up, having shoved the pillow behind his waist, and leaning against the sandstone wall as he stared out the window. It had taken too long to get into even that position. The light breeze that came in from the window was not enough to cool the sweat already forming on his skin.

It felt like hours had passed, but he did not move. His body was so sore, as if he had lost feeling to every limb. Most likely, he had barely moved at all from his lying position for the past… Lilian had said not even a decade.

Still. Years.

The doors finally opened some time later though the sky was still bright outside. D’Argen watched as Darania slipped into the room with a tray between her hands. She kicked the door closed and D’Argen’s mahee ate up the sound of the wood connecting. Then it consumed the sound of the wooden tray falling and the shattered bottles and bowls that had been on it.

“You are awake!” Darania stated the obvious. She swiftly moved over the shards on bare feet and was at his side in moments. “How are you feeling? Can you speak? When did you wake up?”

D’Argen raised a hand to stall her. His throat was so sore. When he tried to speak, all that came out was a croak, and then he had to cough to try and clear it.

“One moment,” Darania said and rushed back to the doors. She yelled something down the hall and then came back to his side, leaving the doors ajar. “I did bring water, but you startled me,” Darania informed him and motioned to the tray and broken bottles. “Someone will be here in a moment. In the meantime, do you mind if I examine you?”

D’Argen nodded.

Her small fingers were strong as she probed him about. When she started massaging his arms, he felt the blood flow and turn into pins and needles that ached. It felt better than the soreness from earlier that kept him practically immobile. By the time she was massaging his calves, the door opened again and two mortals came in. One of them deposited their tray on the stand beside the bed and the other on a small table near the window.

“We have good news,” Darania informed them with a smile.

“So glad to see you awake, Liege D’Argen,” one of the mortals said and came up to him to stand near Darania. “I am Lisa. Do you mind if I touch you?”

Lisa. Riss. The mortal had familiar lines on her face that made him think of the woman that had fought beside D’Argen against the demons. Then against the Never Born. In his dreams. Was Riss ever real? Did someone’s face, a mortal he had passed without noticing, just take on a more apparent role in that other realm?

D’Argen shook his head. She replaced Darania at his feet and continued to massage his legs, working the muscles. “In fact, Mother Darania has had me do this every day, but I know how important consent is.”

Darania filled a clay cup with water and helped D’Argen drink it. After three cups and clearing his throat multiple times, D’Argen was finally able to say, “Thank you, Lisa.”

Lisa smiled wide and her hands crept higher up. Her touch had D’Argen flinching and trying to back up more into the wall behind him.

“That is alright Lisa, I will do the rest,” Darania said. She handed D’Argen another cup of water and then took the mortal’s spot. “Can you get the kitchens to… oh. No. Would you like something to eat?” Darania changed her original question to a new one as she faced D’Argen.

“The songs from earlier,” D’Argen croaked out, his voice still strange and throat still sore. “They were nice.”

“I thought you would enjoy them,” Darania answered. “Lisa, please gather those willing for another few songs in the courtyard under this window.”

“Yes, Mother.” Lisa raised her chin high to the sky. She left the room, bare feet almost silent against the ground.

“Mayan.” Darania twisted her fingers in the air and the other mortal focused on her. “Please see to the mess I made,” Darania said and motioned to it with one hand. “D’Argen, do you feel strong enough for a bath or should I wash you?”

D’Argen was too tired to feel embarrassed at the suggestion. “You, please.”

“Mayan, hot water, a soft cloth, and soap,” Darania directed, her hands moving through the air seamlessly as if she was weaving some spell as she spoke. D’Argen did not scent her mahee come out more than usual, but this was Darania – she could have just grown a tree in the courtyard for all he knew. The mortal was quick to clean up the mess and even quicker to leave, not making a single sound as he did.

“We have been experimenting with new scents recently. One of the shops from the soap district was able to get aloe into the soaps and though it is practically magic on the skin, the scent is underwhelming. Cactus flowers.” Darania started talking even as she threw all blankets and robes aside, her strong fingers digging into the unused muscles of D’Argen’s thighs to massage them.

D’Argen nodded along, focusing on her words rather than the pain she was causing. It was for a good reason. It was… it… she would not hurt him with malice, would she? Could she? D’Argen could not stop his thoughts from swirling. The same face that killed Lilian in that other realm—the dream?—and was suspiciously absent in that final crowd in the hall. He could not recall if she was there at all. It was where he tried to—

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

D’Argen’s thoughts came to a halt only because he realized he could continue the thought. It was where he wanted to take his sword and stab it through himself. The thought did not disappear. It was the hall where he killed Asa, Sa’ab, and Vah’mor. The thought remained. It was in the realm where Darania had pierced Lilian through—

“Lilian?” D’Argen dared to ask.

Darania’s small hands stilled and then resumed. It was barely a moment but it was long enough.

“They are gone?” D’Argen knew the truth, but he felt if he asked it instead of stating it as a fact would allow for a bit of hope to bloom.

Darania nodded. His hopes were destroyed before they could even form. He had known. Deep down, even in that dream world, even before the Lilian in the white space told him, he had known the truth.

“We could not find their body,” Darania added on. She looked right into his eyes as she spoke. “Nor their mahee.” Those words felt pointed.

D’Argen felt the breeze blowing through the window strengthen. A moment later, a chorus of voices came in. Lisa was fast.

“What happened?” D’Argen asked.

“That should be my question,” Darania replied.

“I meant—”

“I know what you meant,” Darania interrupted him. She seemed surprised at her own brashness and then smiled and said, “My apologies. It feels so good to hear your voice, but it is still a habit to cut you off before you go off on one of your rants.”

Those words stung, but D’Argen did his best to keep it from showing on his face.

“It’s alright,” he finally said after clearing his throat. “Have the others not told you?”

“Oh? In the north? Yes, we know as much as we need to. Everyone has given their accounts. However, my own focus is on you. Sit up.”

D’Argen did as she directed, though he was slow to move and had to support himself with shaking arms. His abdominal muscles were quivering. Her hands finally moved past his hips and dug into his waist first. It hurt bad enough for him to hunch over. When she moved to his stomach, he groaned in pain.

Mayan returned to the room just as D’Argen collapsed back against the wall.

“Thank you. Please stay,” Darania said and made another motion with her hand that drew D’Argen’s attention. She then took the tray from the mortal and set it on the ground beside the bed. Mayan moved to the single table near the window and sat at the chair there. His dark eyes focused past the gossamer curtain and his fingers started tapping out a rhythm on the wooden table that was only slightly off from the songs coming in from outside.

While Darania had D’Argen shift around as much as he could so she could finish her massage of his entire body, D’Argen only stared at the mortal. He was tall, probably taller than D’Argen, and definitely broader. His bare shoulders were well formed and his arms were muscled. He wore nothing but a simple cloth around his waist, as most inhabitants of the Rube Islands did, but the way he was sitting with one ankle resting on the opposite knee gave D’Argen a full view of what that cloth was meant to hide. D’Argen felt a heat rush through him that had him flinching away from Darania’s touch when she neared his throat.

“Only neck left,” Darania informed him.

D’Argen shifted on the bed and gave himself over completely to Darania. Her small hands made him flinch when she touched his neck, but she did not go for his mahee. She twisted his head around, forced him to look away from Mayan and the soft folds on his stomach, and kept spinning his head until he felt some of the tension finally leave him.

“That will have to do for now. Mayan will be more thorough later, if you allow it.”

D’Argen felt the heat rise to his face. Mayan’s eyes were once more focused on him and the mortal’s thick lips curved up in a smile that looked mocking. No. Seductive. D’Argen gulped and looked away from him, but he still nodded.

“Now, I have questions and so do you. Do you feel up for it?”

“How long?” Was D’Argen’s first question.

“Seven years,” Darania answered immediately. “Too short. We were expecting another decade, at least. Delcaus—anyway. Too short. Do you know why you awoke now?”

D’Argen nodded in answer but he did not voice it. “When Delcaus awoke, did he tell you anything of what happened before?”

“Before?”

“Or, during, I mean. Did he remember anything while he was…?”

“Do you?”

D’Argen once more nodded in answer without detailing it out loud.

Darania frowned, her white brows furrowing together. She bent over to pick up the bowl of warm water with a soft cloth inside it.

D’Argen looked away and noticed that Mayan was, once more, looking out the window. He was tapping a different rhythm from before though it still did not match the music from outside.

“What do you remember?” Darania finally asked.

D’Argen was staring at Mayan as he said, “That you made us fall.”

Mayan did not react at all and it confirmed D’Argen’s suspicions. He must not be able to hear. Darania, however, flinched so bad that she dropped the bowl and spilled water all over the ground.

“What are you—”

“I remember,” D’Argen dared to interrupt her. Mayan looked at them only once the water touched his foot. He jumped up into action.

“Leave it,” Darania said and spun her fingers through the air. D’Argen focused on them. It looked like a spell, yet it was not. Some sort of language? A way to communicate with Mayan specifically or wider?

“How long have you known?” D’Argen asked her once he was sure she would not try to deny it again.

“Since the mahee left us,” she answered.

As D’Argen had suspected. Almost five thousand years. And she had not told anyone at all.

“And the old realm? Do you remember that?”

“No,” she denied. D’Argen was not sure whether to believe her or not.

“But you remember that we fell? That you were the cause?”

“I was not the cause!” Darania sounded angry. Mayan must have been quite tuned into her because the large mortal quickly approached her with open arms. Darania waved him away and he stopped, dropped his arms, but did not leave. “I was… I just… I just asked you all… I mean…”

“To forget,” D’Argen added in when her last pause did not seem like it would end any time soon. “You willed us to forget. Not only forget though. You willed us to not even think about it.”

Darania nodded slowly. In all their existence, almost ten thousand years in the mortal realm and over another five thousands in that strange dream realm, D’Argen had never seen Darania look like this before. It took him too long to realize that she was ashamed.

“Was it worth it?” he asked, his voice quiet.

Darania’s eyes shot up to him and the shame disappeared, replaced with a conviction that only the strongest of the Never Born could have. “Yes,” she answered, her voice firm.

“And is it still?” D’Argen asked her again. “To still keep it from us all?”

“Yes,” she did not even hesitate to answer.

“Okay,” D’Argen nodded and looked at Mayan again. He had no idea what motions Darania used to direct the mortal, but he hoped his clumsy pointing to the bowl would be enough. After mocking rubbing his arms and pointing to the bowl again, Mayan nodded. He turned to Darania as if to check, but she was staring at D’Argen with a slack expression. Mayan left the room with a quick step.

“What do you mean, ‘okay’?” Darania finally asked once they were alone.

“I mean, alright. I agree. Everything is fine. I trust you. I will keep your secret.”

Darania looked confused, but she did not question it further.

“But,” D’Argen decided to add on, “on one condition.”

Darania did not look happy. She spun her hand in the air and D’Argen understood it to be a silent prompt for him to continue.

“You cannot tell the others about what happened to Lilian’s mahee. Nor Thar’s.”

“I knew it,” Darania sighed out. “I felt something, but what I felt is impossible.”

“Was,” D’Argen corrected her.

“I take it you mean to say I cannot talk about what happened to your mahee either?”

“It is all the same thing, is it not?” D’Argen asked and felt like he could finally smile.

“Fine,” Darania agreed quickly. “Now. I need… ugh… I did not expect this. I need a moment to think, gather my thoughts.”

“Of course.”

“I will have Mayan wash you, if you do not mind. And, if you are up for it, I would like it for Mayan to walk you around the courtyard.”

D’Argen felt his cheeks flush once more, though this time the heat confused him. He nodded and watched Darania leave.