There’s the perception that people soften in their sleep, reveal their true selves, but that’s an old wives’ tale. There’s some basis of truth to it, as it usually is with these things. Alana holds true to expectation, my stern hero becoming as soft as freshly baked bread while in the clutches of a comfortable bed.

Kierra, however, is the opposite. A sleeping predator is less of a danger but there is nothing soft about it. Talia is another exception. Even in her dreams, she remains inscrutable, beautiful in the way a still pond is when the first rays of dawn makes its water sparkle but leaves its bottom shrouded in darkness. Mesmerizing but unfathomable.

Alyssa is not an exception. Normally, she is straight-backed, fierce, and quick to “bite”. She reminds me of the hounds trained to patrol and guard estates suddenly coming to attention with their ears pricked the moment they think there’s prey to be hunted. A vicious bitch, heh, somewhat mellowed by age and peace.

Sleep definitely softens her. Makes her sloppy too.

Crouched beside her, I watch with interest as she snores in ignorant bliss of the three people in her tent. And she’s really gone. The line of drool and the stain on her pillow are sure signs of a deep sleep. I’m almost envious. When was the last time I slept so peacefully? Probably before I left the Hall to deal with this March nonsense.

…come to think of it, that’s the last time we really cut loose. Maybe not a coincidence.

“Kind of impressive,” I whisper, poking the redhead’s cheek. Her face scrunches up in annoyance but she doesn’t wake. I poke her again and she lets out a dissatisfied grumble. Saints, it’s cute. All of it is, the whole limbs thrown out every which way, messy hair, and tattered night clothes. Even the little wrinkles at the corners of her eyes made more prominent by her scowl as I continue poking her. “She doesn’t let any of this get to her, huh?”

“She’s a soldier. She keeps marching,” Alana says from her place by the tent flaps. Yulia, a bit more curious than her sister, has stepped inside and is poking around. “A soldier can’t function without sleep, so they sleep. Even in the middle of enemy territory while surrounded by the corpses of their comrades.”

“When you put it like that.” I poke her cheek again and she clumsily smacks it away, grumbling something unintelligible.

“Are you going to mess with her all day?”

“If only I could.” With a sigh, I stand from my crouch and take a large step back. Then I shout, “Good morning!”

Yulia jumps. Miss Alyssa snorts and sits up with glowing eyes and fire in one hand. I’m unfazed by the display, just glad she has the presence of mind not to go throwing the magic around. And with each moment, that presence grows stronger, reason asserting itself as she blinks away sleep. Her eyes bounce between the three of us before she curses and dismisses her spell. “The hell are you doing in my tent, Lou?”

“You only have yourself to blame. Your lackey was too scared to wake the sleeping bear.”

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“Bear?”

“Your snores sound like a large animal warning away other predators.”

“Ah, fuck you.”

“Is that an invitation, Red Bear?”

“I will hurt you.”

“Good luck.”

I smile as she glares up at me. Saints, I really do have a type, huh? “I would really need the saints’ blessing, wouldn’t I? O—” Her words are interrupted by a jaw-cracking yawn. “Or maybe for the earth to open up and drop you straight into the Abyss. You and whatever titan bastard you summoned to wreck the city.”

The redhead turns her back to us as she walks over to a large basket in the corner. She grabs a red robe from it and brings it to her nose for a sniff. Then proves she is very confident of completely without modesty as she throws off her shirt and shorts to shrug it on. “This better not be a social call because I’m still pissed about the whole destroying my home thing and will probably stay pissed for a long time.”

“It has nothing to do with you.”

“Yeah? I beg to differ when I’m the one cleaning up the shit, literally.”

“You can always quit.”

“Things are probably different in the capital but in the north, you don’t just throw away your responsibilities,” she snarls. “Because if one person can do it, then everyone can and nothing ever gets done.”

Point to her. But. “There’s always another hero waiting in the wings to pick up the slack. Otherwise, we wouldn’t have so many saints.”

“Cheh. You’ve gotten mean, Lou.”

“Fate didn’t give me much choice.” More like the guilds. “But I’m not here to talk about employment opportunities. Or to drop in for a drink, though we should do that soon—"

“No.”

“Yulia over there, I’m sure you know her.”

Alyssa’s gaze flicks over to Yulia who smiles at her. The redhead ignores the gesture and digs in her basket, grabbing a comb and proceeding to tame her bed hair. “Yeah, I can recognize the James girls.”

“Good. Then you probably also know Yulia’s a bleeding heart. She’s worried about all the hapless souls of the camp. Particularly, this sickness.”

She lets out a bark of a laugh. “Yeah? You care about these people?”

“I don’t care.” That’s a lie but the more I live it, the closer it gets to the truth. I hope. “But I also don’t want them to die in droves. If I did, I wouldn’t have warned them. You wouldn’t be here because Kierra wouldn’t have gone to Dunwayne to save them from themselves.”

Some of the tension in her shoulders relaxes. “…she going to help?”

“No and you probably don’t want to hear why. Come on, Red Bear. We’re offering to take a concern off your hands.”

“The healers have been on my ass about getting extra help…fine. You all can go poking around. Suppose if you get sick, the elf will fix you up. Just, don’t destroy my camp. Don’t destroy anything.” She tosses the comb back into the basket. “And do me a favor? If whatever this thing you have for me is real?”

“Are you questioning my affection?” I ask dryly, doing my best to channel my flower’s drab tone that always makes it confusing to tell when she’s being sarcastic.

Unfortunately, it also fails to get a reaction. Funny. I remember her being a lot more explosive. Suppose she’s getting used to me. Or maybe she’s got good reason to watch her actions around me now. Ah, that kind of ruins the fun. Part of Miss Alyssa’s charm was never knowing what she’d do next.

“Don’t make my life harder. This shitshow is hard enough and it’s only going to get harder. I’m stressed and I’m not the one who is sharing four dark walls with half a dozen strangers, not knowing what the future holds. People are on edge. They’re scared and angry. People like that are just looking for an excuse to snap and aren’t thinking about the consequences. So please, for all the blessed tits in Paradise, don’t break the neck of the first person who mouths off at you. Or the dumbass that throws a rock at your head.”

“If somebody throws a rock at us, I’m picking it up and throwing it back,” Alana says and her tone leaves no room for argument.

I chuckle. “I won’t start anything. I never do.” I finish things.

“Guess that’s the best I’ll get. Come on. I’ll drop you three off by the tents. If you need me, find me. Let me handle the trouble, alright? Saints know I don’t get paid enough but it’s my job anyway.”