Chapter 4 of Hardest of Hearts
The third time Julien’s head falls back against the grainy wooden posts making up the walls of the cage that he, Lady Aranessa, Thaisha Lloy, Vaelus of the Mournvale, and the recently-deceased Occtis Tachonis are currently riding in, several hundred feet off the ground, he lets himself give up keeping any sort of awareness.
Aranessa’s head hit his unarmoured shoulder the second he’d removed his pauldron and demigauntlet. He remains confident in his assessment that she has never, in her life, had to rough it the way the other four have by the increase in volume and duration of her snores. A rough-hewn wooden bench in a rickety carriage grasped by a bird is not the level of comfort she is accustomed to. It is becoming increasingly obvious that his lady is exhausted and terrified; they all are really. Thaisha had attempted to provide sisterly comfort, rubbing Aranessa’s back and detangling the strands of hair she could reach, before the druid quickly slumped onto his lady’s shoulder. So here he sat, a glorified pillow for two extremely powerful women while trying not to stare at the ancient woman teaching the talking corpse how to trance so said corpse does not lose his entire sense of self.
Give me a reason to end you, boy. Please!
Julien only realizes he’s no longer leaning against the wall, but has been staring for who knows how long, when a bright acidic green appears from one open eye on the Dead Boy’s face. Occtis startles as their gazes meet and closes his eye again, settling back against the wall of the carriage, which sets Julien’s teeth on edge. There is a disquiet within him he is unable to identify that is most assuredly related to the one Tachonis he has decided to spare, for now. Most of Julien’s feelings can be easily classified as branching from either curiosity or irritation, and that is where he is comfortable. Curiosity has led to many a delightful outcome, often involving disrobed bodies or illicit substances. Mild to moderate irritation is simply how he exists the remainder of the time, and he’s made it this far.
Nothing feels real anymore, and it has not felt real in fucking days. Sleep, I should try to sleep.
