Martin gave a quick intake of breath before Indenuel sensed more prodding. He closed his eyes, turning his face away, shuffling his feet. He couldn’t be sure if Martin was simply taking longer, or if his own anxiety made it seem so. He spared a glance at the other High Elders who were also waiting.
“There is a lot of corruption that hurt much of his gift,” Martin said quietly. He opened his eyes, staring right at Indenuel, and he wanted to shrivel to dust in that moment. This is what he expected. The hurt, the betrayal, the sadness, all wrapped into one look. “I’ll need six months at least to bring it back to what it once was.”
“Six months?” Navir asked, wincing.
“At least. You used too much, and you didn’t confess right away. That kind of damage lingered, but it won’t be impossible to fix,” Martin said, still staring at Indenuel who could not look back at him. “We have a lot of work to do, my boy.”
Indenuel nodded, still not brave enough to face him. Indenuel sank back into the chair as the High Elders discussed his schedule. For the next week he was to meet with Martin entirely. Starting the week after, he would meet with Martin twice, Captain Luiz three times, and then one of the other High Elders on the sixth day until his powers were back to where they once were.
“One last thing, Indenuel,” Navir said. “We assumed you would want to keep the story of what happened to yourself, so the story is that you fought two marked individuals and won. You do not need to give any more detail if you do not wish.”
Indenuel nodded, feeling numb. The High Elders wanted to keep his possession from getting out, and so did he. He wanted to pretend like it never happened. It might be easier to deal with it that way. With his memory gone, it might be easier for him than for Tolomon.
“Go get some rest. You look like you need it,” Dalius said.
He nodded again, struggling to his feet.
“Oh, I almost forgot to ask,” Martin said. Indenuel paused, looking up at him. “How did you know the name of the devil? That kind of knowledge had been locked away for centuries.”
Indenuel swallowed, then looked down, feeling the panic start to seize him again before he forced it away. “The first Sabbath I was here I… I had a dream where… where he came to me. Posing as my father. I had a few more dreams with him. I thought… I honestly thought he was who he said he was.”
Martin’s face dropped, then his gaze shot toward Navir, who looked genuinely surprised. “Why didn’t you tell us of this the moment it happened?” Navir asked.
“Because he posed as an Oraminian. I was nervous about what you would have thought of me being half Oraminian.” Indenuel stole a glance at Tolomon to judge what he would have thought. There was nothing but concern in his eyes. “But I guess my father will still remain a mystery.”
Navir rubbed the back of his head, frowning, before looking at Dalius, who finished writing what was being said. Dalius glanced up and saw the High Elders gaze on him, then placed the quill back in the ink bottle. “The reason why the devil is so good at lying is because he often takes the truth and twists just an aspect of it.”
Indenuel frowned. “What are you saying?”
“Whoever the devil came to you as, there is a good chance that man exists in real life,” Dalius said.
Indenuel’s frown deepened. “Wait, are you saying my father might be Oraminian after all?”
Dalius began to blow on the ink to dry it before he picked up the quill again and kept writing. “I’m saying…” Dalius said slowly as his focus was divided. “I don’t know what I’m saying, but I’m sure it has been a difficult thing not knowing who your father is. Just… don’t be surprised if your mother confirms you are half Oraminian.”
Martin screwed up his face in confusion, then looked at Indenuel, studying his features. Fadrique and Navir too stared at him, possibly trying to pick out the Oraminian in him.
“And that doesn’t bother you? That the Warrior might be half Oraminian?” Indenuel asked.
Navir studied him for a moment longer before he shook his head. “All that matters is you have green eyes. Though maybe this, too, we must keep quiet until it is confirmed by Lucia.”
Indenuel nodded. “Thank you, High Elders.”
“May God bless you as you work to strengthen your gifts,” Navir said.
Indenuel stared at Navir. He was certain that was a phrase they used with all the people healing their souls, but Indenuel knew the truth. The Gods weren’t going to bless him, because They were dead.
“I will see you tomorrow morning,” Martin said.
“Tomorrow,” Indenuel mumbled as he headed out of his study. Tolomon walked with him, staying quiet. They didn’t talk all the way until Indenuel was back in his room. There were servants there, packing up Tolomon’s cot and moving it out. “You’re not staying?”
“The marked individuals don’t exist, there was never an attempt on your life. I will be fine in the other room,” Tolomon said as Indenuel eased himself back into bed.
“But you’re my warden now. Don’t you need to keep a careful eye on me?” Indenuel asked.
Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
Tolomon smirked. “I will. Nothing better than giving someone a false sense of security, right? I won’t be recovering from grey death this time. You won’t sneak out so easily again.”
Indenuel nodded, resigned to his fate. It wasn’t like he was going to murder again. He doubted he would ever do that again after what happened. All things considered, he was glad his punishment involved Tolomon keeping a watchful eye. It could have been a lot worse.
“Does it bother you that I might be half Oraminian?” Indenuel asked before he could stop himself.
“Should it bother me?” Tolomon asked.
Indenuel rubbed his arm. “The Oraminians… they… your family…”
“Ah. Right,” Tolomon said, not keeping Indenuel’s gaze before shrugging. “If I had known you twenty years ago, yes. It would have bothered me a lot. Now, no. You’re still the Warrior, and I still swear to protect you until I take my last breath. I don’t care what your heritage is.”
Indenuel nodded, looking down at his hands. He remembered the insanity that had happened the past few weeks, and he was surprised Tolomon was still standing. Which reminded him again of Martin’s disappointment when he realized exactly how bad the corrupted pain eroded his gift. The gift he used to save Tolomon’s life. The one that wasn’t as strong as before.
“Fathers can be complicated,” Tolomon said. “Mine wasn’t the best, but I still mourned his passing.”
Indenuel shrugged. “And I didn’t know mine at all. Can’t even tell you if he was a good one or a shitty one.”
“I see now why you pick and choose who becomes your family instead. It’s easier that way.” The servants finished taking the last of Tolomon’s things to his room. Pablo appeared, moving out of the way of the other servants before walking further in and setting the tray down.
“What’s this?” Indenuel asked.
“Dreamless tea,” Tolomon said as Pablo bowed and left the room. “I asked for it to give to you. It appears you remember nothing about what happened, but the devil still does. Demon induced nightmares are nothing to play with, so I wanted to make sure you got some before you slept again.”
Indenuel winced. “Demon induced nightmares?”
Tolomon nodded, raising his hand. “You have your nightmares.” He raised his other hand high above his other hand. “And then you have demon induced nightmares.” He dropped both hands before pouring a cup of tea. “This will stop any dreams at all. No dreams, no devil coming to play with them.”
Indenuel didn’t want to ask, but he couldn’t help it. “What do… what do demon induced nightmares…”
“They are incredibly realistic, even though they are implausible.” Tolomon sipped the tea before handing Indenuel the cup. It was still incredibly hot. Indenuel had no idea how Tolomon could have sipped it already. “Your brain goes through all the worst possible scenarios, and it feels real. Not only that, but since you have the power of speaking to the dead, your body isn’t still. It moves and jerks, or sometimes you get up and flail around.”
Indenuel stared at Tolomon, then attempted to take a large swallow of tea. He tasted the rosemary and chamomile, then grimaced. “Is that garlic?”
“Yeah, try and focus on the other herbs,” Tolomon said. “In about six months the memories should be locked away enough that you won’t need it. But just in case, if you find yourself trapped in a demon induced nightmare, I will ask you to tell me something you smell, and to answer an odd question that would make no sense to help wake you up.”
Indenuel did not like the sound of any of this, but he realized this was simply Tolomon being Tolomon.
“Six months, then?” Indenuel asked quietly. “Will this affect my power? Will no one come see me for six months?”
Tolomon shrugged. “As long as they’re good spirits, it doesn’t hurt your power. Especially if they need to get an urgent message.” Tolomon took back the empty cup and filled it again, taking another tiny sip before handing it back to Indenuel. “Two cups should be enough. And in six months you can return to your regular nightmares.” There was an underline of lightheartedness in his tone. “Get some sleep. You look like shit.”
Indenuel closed his eyes and drained the second cup before handing it back to Tolomon, shivering. “Nasty stuff.”
“You should try the dreamless tea Sara makes. Almost can’t taste the garlic,” Tolomon said, placing the cup by the kettle before picking the tray up and heading for the door.
Indenuel frowned. “You take dreamless tea too?”
“I do, yes.”
“But you’re not a speaker of the dead.”
“I’d still rather not have nightmares. Even the regular kind.” Tolomon opened the door, the smile disappearing from his face. “I haven’t dreamed in twenty years.” He said it as if he didn’t expect Indenuel to hear.
***
Indenuel slept in, the note of apology sent quickly to Martin, who answered just as quickly to take his time. Despite the servant spending a long time styling Indenuel’s hair, he sat slumped in his seat in the dining hall, his fingers in his styled hair, elbow on the table, eating as much food as he liked. Indenuel was going to train at Martin’s home, since the Cathedral was still being fixed. He also got the sense that no one wanted him to see how much damage the Cathedral had gone under. It caused some guilt to trickle in, but he tried to brush it aside.
We’re all safe. Everyone is safe. No one got hurt.
Except for the damage done to his soul. But they were working on that.
“I was instructed to give this to you once you were up and feeling better,” Pablo said, setting down a bottle of wine on the table and handing him a letter.
Indenuel straightened in his seat, turning the letter around. “What? Who’s this from?”
“Captain Nathaniel. He dropped it off before he returning to the war last week.” Pablo left the dining hall as Indenuel stared at the letter in his hand, then looked at the bottle of wine before giving Tolomon a curious look. His bodyguard sitting next to him shrugged. Indenuel opened the letter.
Indenuel,
I would like to think of myself as a man of my word. As promised in previous letters, here is the bottle of the finest wine in the world for saving Tolomon’s life. Though I was not planning on physically beating some sense into you, I hoped for a good conversation while we drank it. I’m still visiting again during the Spring Welcoming. Schedule me in sometime then in your busy schedule. This visit I know was a surprise, but I’m glad I came.
Work on getting better. I know my father; therefore, I know he’s already forgiven you. He is a good man and wants what’s best for you. You know now what it’s like to be in the grasp of the devil. Never get to that point again. Don’t get better for the world, don’t do it because you need to end the war, don’t even do it for my father. Get better because it is the right thing to do. I care about you a lot, and I know you will exceed my expectations as you work through this. You cannot do this on your own. You aren’t expected to. We are here for you, all of us. I’ve been thinking a lot about what you said about God, and for me it changes little. We still need each other, more than ever. Just because God isn’t there anymore doesn’t mean there isn’t good in the world. It means He trusted us enough to be the good the world needed.
-Nathaniel
Indenuel crumpled the letter as he did everything in his power to fight back tears. For the first time since he learned about God’s sacrifice, he felt a glimmer of hope in the higher power’s plan. “Damn that man.”
“Aha! Nathaniel strikes again,” Tolomon said with a smile.
Indenuel shook his head as he stood. “It’s disgusting.”
“Absolutely nauseating, isn’t it,” Tolomon said.
Indenuel gave Pablo the bottle of wine back, with instructions to save it for the Spring Welcoming in three months before they left for Martin’s house.