âFive-year plan for four years. Have you ever heard this? Who will work while I sleep, eh? One hour of work is,â she thought for a moment, âso much money that I can spend on myself. Iâll go to sleep one hour, and then Iâll bite my elbows and stay hungry. Nobody will do the work for me. And while some idiot sleeps, I make money,â Ivakir shared such philosophical thought.
And to spend almost all your life in a dream, this thought terrified her. To sleep and do everything related to sleep was a miraculous stupidness. Why sleep, when time for sleep could be spent on something more useful, for example, ŃŃ cross stitching or improving relations with the family and playing Monopoly together? Ivakir didnât do any of this, but fatigue, inability to concentrate and clearly express thoughts, bags under the eyes and the exhaled body should not be a hindrance to other great things!
âSo, no, no sleep, no naps here. Sleeping is for stupid people,â the witch replied with trembling hands, trying to do her work, looking sleepily from under her very beautiful dark bags under her eyes, which were undoubtedly the rage tonight.
Adam listened to every word she had said. And the rant she went on only had managed to solidify his opinion that she in fact did need some sleep. But also the fact that she wouldnât do so willingly.
The man was NOT good at subtle spell crafting. Not like his mother, especially his grandmother. He didnât really have the big fire-power his grandfather had either. Jack of all trades, master of none was the best way to describe his powers.
But he focused his will and attempted to sneakily extend the fingers of his right hand, whispering under his breath â-Moon shall rise, sun shall fall. Every creature great and small, needs to sleep, within my view. So sleep shall come... and that means you.â and with an effort of will, he attempted to lull her into sleep.
