#sebazin

I rose to my feet, using the nearest wall as support. I was lightheaded, but that wasn’t a surprise. My stomach languished at its emptiness. It had been days since it had seen food.

Once I could see and balance, I tottered out of the ally and into the street. I had no idea where I was. I knew from experience, by running away from my mother in the first place, that the city was huge. I could potentially wander for days without finding the little bit of familiarity I had in it. And what was home to me was a much worse place than where my mother lived without me. Her shop was in a nice place. Clean. Free of thieves and whores like me. I didn’t know it.

If anything, I was dressed in my clothes. I didn’t look like the dirty whore I was. The chances of interacting with people and not immediately chased off was good. If I could find another person.

I wandered down the street, following it to the next and the one after that. Nothing struck me as familiar.

I grabbed the first person I saw. “Excuse me!” I called to her. She waved at me and continued walking with determination. “Quick question,” I added, laying on some speed to catch up with her.

She finally paused, confusion passing through her eyes. “Is everything okay?”

I suppressed my flash of irritation. People always wanted to coddle me. “I’m a little lost. Can you point me to the market?”

“Aren’t you a little young to be traveling alone?”

With that question, I no longer cared to hide my expression. “No. Market. Please.”

Her lips pursed and I about spun away from her in frustration. But then she explained, laying down a long verbal map. We parted with her instructions forcefully looping through my brain to remember.

I found the market the woman had detailed, only to quickly realize it wasn’t the right one. I knew the buildings well in the market by my mother’s shop. These weren’t them. I could do my discounted shopping and get away with it without scrutiny, but it didn’t help me find my mother. It didn’t bring me back to Seb.

I hauled my unsteady body to the nearest vendor. “Do you know where another market is?” I asked. “I’m in the wrong one.”

I received new instructions, no more easy to follow. I repeated them through my head with a new handful of sausage links to nibble on. My vagabond presence went unquestioned, my acquisition of my bounty unnoticed. I deserved some food.

I arrived at the next market by happenstance and empty-handed. I lost track of the directions I had been given and added a few turns, but the sound of people talking lured me in.

It wasn’t the right market, either. Panic squeezed my heart. What if I never returned to Seb? What if their last memory of me was me turning my back on them in their weakest moment?

I had to walk down a few stalls before I found one where the vendor wasn’t busy. “Do you know where I can find another market? I’m looking for someone.”

The woman contemplated. “There’s one a ten minute walk that way.”

I shook my head. “I came from there. This market is near the edge of the city?”

“I think there’s one past that market on the edge of civilization.” She sounded uncertain. If she was right, I had gone the wrong direction. If she was wrong, I was wasting time I probably didn’t have.

I rubbed my fingers into my temple before my lat as I walked away. Finding the correct market wasn’t supposed to be the challenge. I didn’t know why I had to figure out where I was in the first place.

I took a handful of cakes on my way out of that market, much like the ones that Theo had liked to feed me. They kept well and were easy on the stomach. Hopefully enough to tame the sausages in my tummy. Something both Seb and I needed. The bigger issue was pacing myself so that I didn’t accidentally eat them all.

I made my way back through the first market I’d been pointed toward, eyes sharp for anything I could use to help me or Seb out. I passed by a smithy and hovered around the tools he created, but got shooed away before I could find anything of use. Even clothed, I couldn’t pull off the right kind of look for a blacksmith’s clientele.

Finding the next market was difficult. I didn’t have real instructions to follow. All the direction I had was the sun at my back until it, too, was too high to be of real use. My familiarity with the area didn’t lie, however. The moment I caught sight of recognizable architecture, I knew how to find my mother’s place.

I tucked the remaining cakes away, using folds of my clothing as a makeshift pocket, and I entered through her door. I whimpered at the sight of her predatory gaze, immediately dropping to an unassuming posture.

“Where have you been, Malxir?” she demanded. I felt my headache flare, but it wasn’t from one of her mind splinters.

“Lost,” I squeaked. “I didn’t know where I was.”

“All night and morning?” my mother asked with heavy skepticism. “Did you dirty your clothes?”

“No.”

“You have time to take care of Sebazin before you meet Bertram again.” She was dismissive. Distracted. I wasn’t looking that gift horse in the mouth.

As much as I wanted to return to Seb, I was afraid to. I tried to settle my nerves by exploring the cavern for anything of use. They had some books, a couple rugs, but nothing sharp, pointy, or of use for picking a lock. I did find something far more useful than tools: a natural spring. It was slight and weak, but it was a source of water.

I dashed to Seb, excited with the spring in sights and cakes on my person. I heard muttering from the other side of the door, but it quieted the moment the door made noise. Sebazin glared at me, breaths laborious, but the chains too taunt above their head to rattle.

“Seb! I found water!” I exclaimed.

Seb winced, turning their head away from me. “Go away,” they rasped, voice barely catching air. “Go away. Leave me alone. Go away.”

My blood froze. I stopped in my tracks, drooping in place. “What?” I knew I’d left them. They’d begged after me. I didn’t have another option. “Seb, it’s me.”

Seb whined, their tail drawing tighter around themselves. “Fuck off. Shut up. Go away.” They hid their eyes from me, the tattoos swallowing up the remainder of their expression. All I had was that they breathed through their mouth, lip drawing and dropping around their fangs.

“I’m sorry, Seb,” I choked, feeling sobs bubble up my throat. I threw myself to my knees at their cell door, resting my horns on the bars. “I’m sorry. I don’t know what to do. I’m doing all I can.”

Seb continued to mutter, but each sound was more incomprehensible than their last. This was Seb in unbridled fear, like I’d walked in on one of their nightmares they never talked about. Seb admitted to fear plenty, but succumbing to it was rare. What had they been going through when I was locked away?

It took me a moment to realize that I couldn’t follow them down their path of panic. As much as it hurt to see Seb working their weak body to get away from me, I couldn’t stop caring for them. Not when I finally had the means to get them more water. When I had cereal cakes to throw to them.

The cup I’d given them the day before was knocked over and rolled to the far wall. With Seb’s lack of lucidity, I wouldn’t know if that method had worked at all. The bucket did. Or they’d have died far earlier. I needed the bucket, well within Seb’s reach but far outside of my own.

“Sebazin, I need you to listen to me.” I tried to be firm. Sometimes it worked to snap them out of it, but they usually didn’t get so bad.

Their knee drew up until the shackles around their ankles stopped them. Their torso twisted away until their arm completely hid their face. I couldn’t make out words from their stream of soft sound, though it sounded like they were shushing me?

“Seb, I need the bucket. Give me the bucket, Seb.”

It was terrifying, really, to see someone like Seb, that put themselves bodily in the thick of trouble for someone, that rose first for the occasion of confrontation, to be reduce to a mumbling, sick mess. I’d seen them cut, I’d seen them give up, and I’d seen the very life leave their body. This was something else. Like their essence was taken away. Seb did not resort to cowardice and hide, no matter how bad it got.

“Sebazin!” I screeched, falling into coughs for my efforts. I had a finite amount tries to get this right and they were making it more difficult than it needed to be. I got my throat back under control and turned back to Seb. They eyed me warily. “Are you back?”

“You’re real,” Seb whispered so quietly, I needed to read it from their lips. My insides twisted. This really was a nightmare for Seb. A living one. If they couldn’t distinguish dream from reality … I didn’t know what to do.

“Get me out of here,” Seb begged. They twisted in their chains, their tail unfurling from around them. “Please, please. Mal, please.”

“I can’t,” I choked. The words cut on their way out.

“Why? Why are we here?” A foot scrambled for purchase. Failed. “Mal, let me out.”

“Seb, I need the bucket,” I told them. The persistent numbness all my life wrapped about me, staying my tears. “I can get you water.”

The moment of clarity passed. Seb hid their face again, resuming the unintelligible muttering. They were bodily weak and their sanity slipped, but they still had fight if I could reach them. Water, however, was a lost cause. Not without their help.

“I stole the cakes you like,” I heard my voice. I didn’t remember opening my mouth. “It’s the best I could do.” I dug them out of the folds of my clothes and lobbed them one at a time at Seb. One rolled away, but the rest remained somewhere in the padding of their gambeson.

“I’m sorry, Sebazin,” I mumbled. I’d said it so many times, the words felt empty. I found my feet, my balance coming from somewhere else outside of my body.

It was worse when Gabe was busy and Seb briefly took over the lesson. It wasn’t that Seb taught differently or took a different approach, I just couldn’t read their writing as well. Their prompts didn’t work with their muddy accent making different letters sound the same.

The others had found out that I was – Gabe called it illiterate. Skrit seemed to have known from the beginning and oddly never made a deal of it. Wyst, on the other hand, tried fawning over me about it for weeks.

I hated it. I hated the attention and pity. I hated the lessons. I hated how present I needed to be for them and how tired I felt after them. Seb usually had some offering after the fact to soften the ordeal, but that made it all no less patronizing. I saw the way Alice stared at me when she thought I was too busy concentrating, like I was stupid and not merely unlearned.

It was slightly better when it was just me and Gabe. When the others had their own things that needed done. Our group was busier, considering we’d committed to a path that strayed far from civilization for weeks. No matter how well we prepared, we couldn’t feasibly pack so much in the last city before heading out.

We made it work. Rather well, really. Skrit and Seb went off to track and hunt when we needed it. Alice and Wyst identified and collected edible plants. Gabe set up camp and made surprising spreads of everything gathered to keep us fed and going.

I was the worthless imbecile with nothing to do but fail to write proper words. Gabe always asked me what a word I’d written was, only to write it down better for my to practice my sounds. The sound it out method didn’t even work for me. As abysmal as Seb’s accent was, mine was even worse. I couldn’t make all the sounds Gabe tried to teach me, no matter how I twisted my tongue or held my jaw.

I tapped Gabe’s leg with the tablet to catch his attention and held it over my head. He paused what he was doing and took it from my hands. “Okay, let’s see what you have here,” he mumbled.

I waited for him to decipher meaning out of my made up words and stared off at our packs and Seb’s discarded armor. I could have made myself useful and made our bed. It was an easy enough task, considering I continued sharing bed rolls with Gabe and Seb. Most nights. Gabe let me know when it wasn’t one of the nights I got to use Seb as a heater. No matter how the night started, Seb usually ended up wrapped around me by the time morning rolled in. Seb wasn’t mine. I understood Gabe not wanting to share them.

I didn’t move, however. It was Gabe speaking again that made me realize I’d stopped paying attention to anything.

“Very good, Malxir,” Gabe praised. That was a lie. We both knew it. “May I have the chalk, please?”

I handed over the stump of chalk and stared back at the packs. He’d have my spelling corrected, my letters fixed, and a reply written out too quickly for me to do anything. Even if he could understand my sentence, it wouldn’t be free of error. It never was.

Gabe deposited both the board and chalk back into my lap, immediately returning to building a fire. “Alright. Read me back what I wrote, Malxir.”

My eyes bounced over his pretty, fluid letters. “‘Do you like it … bet-ter when the sun is warm?’”

The sentences we used were stupid, too. ‘Is the sun warm today?’ ‘No, it is trees.’ I wouldn’t answer so poorly if we spoke, but the question was ridiculous anyway. I only didn’t know how to spell the words I wanted and I hated how much Gabe needed to correct me when I did try.

“Very good!” Gabe exclaimed in a way I knew he meant to be encouraging. I stayed my fangs from flashing. “Okay, do you see what mistake you made?”

I searched for his calculated chalk strokes amongst my chicken scratch. “Trees has two Es?”

“Yes, exactly.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know.”

Even the words we used were stupid with stupid rules.

“You remember your numbers,” Gabe pointed out with a gleeful smile. “That’s great, Malxir.”

I wrinkled my nose and pointedly avoided his brown eyes.

“I’m serious, Malxir,” Gabe consoled. “That’s very good. Okay, go ahead and erase your old answer and write your new one. Try to come up with more than a one word answer.”

I contemplated over the way to spell “yeah” when the brush surrounding our camp admitted Skrit sans Seb. She strode up to Gabe to throw two dead rabbits at his feet. “It’s what we got,” she said to Gabe’s imploring stare.

“Where is Sebazin?” Gabe asked.

“Fuck if I know. They didn’t want to come back.”

Gabe cursed, though the word turned out to be a magic one for him to light the fire.

I watched the two of them, too distracted to continue struggling over my writing.

“Are you two having a fight?” Skrit asked.

“No, it’s not that,” Gabe sighed. He massaged over his face. “They’re starting to slip and it makes me nervous when you or I are not around to correct them. Alone time is the opposite of what they need right now.”

Skrit eyed Gabe with critical intent. “Is Seb about the one to snap – or you? Because they were fine out there. Looking for bullshit, sure, but that’s nothing new.”

“I could use a break,” Gabe admitted. “Sebazin is pushing us hard to more temperate climate to beat the winter. I’m not as young as I once was.”

“You’re not old, either,” Skrit grunted.

Gabe set his mouth. “I’m feeling these longer days.”

“Well, no shit,” Skrit said matter-of-fact. “You’re carrying the group. You do all our cooking, you keep Seb under control, you’re teaching the kid to read, and tutoring Wyst in her studies. When the fuck do you have time for yourself? Something’s got to give.”

Skrit strode over to Seb’s pack, plucking a knife from its contents.

“All of this needs done,” Gabe argued.

“Yeah, and Seb or Alice can do the cooking. Wyst doesn’t need your tutelage. She managed fine before you. The kid isn’t going to die if he can’t read and Seb can keep up on his math. The big guy, well, you’re stuck with them.”

I wouldn’t have minded my lessons in reading and writing coming to a close. I wasn’t a fan of the way Seb ran their economic lessons, either, but I could make do with less overall learning. I could do something useful to help Gabe and group instead. Take over cooking with Seb, maybe.

“Your definition of ‘needs done’ differs from mine.”

Skrit hauled the rabbits to a different patch of moss to tear into them, ripping the fur cleaning off of them. “Because yours is stupid. Seb’s help in tracking is nice, but I don’t need it. It’ll slow me down without them, but I can still get the game we need.”

“You’re contorting the problem out of proportion,” Gabe sighed. “Everything’s fine, I promise.”

“Whatever. I’ll take care of this until Alice is back. Food might be bland tonight, but at least the kid will appreciate it. Go and hit your partner or whatever it is you do.”

“I do not -”

Skrit snapped the feet off the rabbit, cutting through the tendons with her borrowed knife. She gut each one in moments. It didn’t take her long for the carcasses to look presentable.

“Malxir, lesson’s over,” she announced. “Help me get this started so Gabe can go plan a scene.”

Gabe turned to look at me, like he was surprised to see me. “Oh, fu-”

I stared at him quizzically. Hopefully. I was okay with cutting the lesson short, but Gabe was the one that decided when we were finished.

Gabe buried his head in his hand, back to ignoring me for the time being. “I can’t believe they told you that,” he griped.

“I can’t believe it’s true!”

“Sebazin is a miserable liar,” Gabe said. “They still try anyway, but you can tell when they’re making up stories.”

Gabe hadn’t given me an answer for whether or not I’d be abandoning my sentence to help Skrit begin preparing food. “Gabe?”

“I’m not leaving, Malxir,” he finally decided. “Write.”

“Gabe -”

Gabe cut Skrit off. “I appreciate the help, Skrit. Thank-you. I do not, however, require you to alleviate my responsibilities to – to plan a scene. That’s not how things work.” He grabbed the travel cauldron to bring it to the fire.

So much for cutting the lesson short. I frowned at my chalk board, rereading Gabe’s question to recall the answer I’d come up with. I had wanted to figure out how to spell “yeah”. It still took too much concentration to pick apart the word and remember the alphabet.

“What do you do, then?” Skrit asked curiously, adopting more decorum for Gabe than she ever did Seb.

“I am not discussing my sex life,” Gabe said. “I’m not! I’m not sure why Seb is!”

“I give him a list of what I’m craving and he ignores it all anyway.” Sebazin’s voice joining the conversation made me jump. Skrit’s face snapped in their direction. “He’s a Dom, not a sadist,” they told her.

“For fuck’s sake,” Gabe whispered in exasperation.

Seb walked forward and plucked the cauldron from beside Gabe, stopping to pull him into a kiss despite the frustration sharp over his features. Gabe took his time in fight Seb off of him.

“Quit talking about our private life,” he scolded, his finger in Seb’s face.

Seb spun away with an impish grin. “Why? Are you afraid someone might notice that we do it? We’ve fucked beside Mal while Mal slept. You don’t mind the risk, love.”

They had done what? My jaw dropped despite myself. Seb caught my eye and tossed me a wink.

“There is no reasoning with you.”

Seb chuckled and swung the cauldron as they stepped away. “I’ll fill this up.”

Gabe switched his irritation to Skrit. “Did they put you up to this?”

She held her hands up defensively. “They don’t need my interference.”

“No,” Gabe sighed. “I suppose not. For someone that doesn’t care for it, you sure live vicariously through Sebazin.”

Skrit shrugged, but had nothing to say in response.

His attention switched to me again, waiting patiently for me to return the favor. I still tried to process the shock of sleeping in the same bed as they had sex beside me. I blinked, closing my mouth, regaining some composure. “Malxir, focus,” he said softly. I very well was focusing. Only not on what he wanted me to work on.

When both Gabe and Skrit settled down, however, it was easier to form each sound on my lips to figure out how yeah should have been spelled. I got through the entire word by the time Seb came back. I wanted to add that I hated being cold. That I was always cold. It hadn’t been something I adjusted to well, even though I’d spent a fair amount of my childhood freezing my tail off. I had often lost color in my fingers getting the things done outside that I needed to live. Not that Gabe needed to know most of that.

“I don’t sleep,” Wyst said. “Not really.”

“Must be nice,” Seb grumbled. “No dreams?”

“What was it about?” she asked gently.

“Doesn’t matter.”

“You don’t want to talk about it? It could help.” Wyst had her kid gloves on, treating Seb with the type of care she did for me when she thought I was acting irrationally.

“No,” Seb said sharply.

“Is it the same thing every night?”

“I’m not talking about this with you,” Seb snapped. I heard their bare feet on the ground, pacing. When they got closer to my bed, I could even hear their tail whip angrily through the air.

Wyst let them have a moment to cool down. The night was still. Quiet, except for a few crickets and toads.

“How long has this been going on?” Wyst asked.

“Long enough I can deal with it on my own,” Seb grumbled, deep and low.

“Does Gabe know?”

“Yes,” Seb hissed. “There’s nothing he can do, either. Fucking leave me alone. I need to walk it off and I’ll be back to sleep.”

Wyst sighed, something pent up yet hesitant. “Sebazin, I want you to stay away from Malxir.”

“What?” Seb barked.

“I think you’re leading her on,” Wyst explained softly.

“I’ve been very fucking clear,” Seb growled.

“Why are you sleeping with her?”

What did Wyst mean? I had one night with Seb. That was all. Forever. Seb was right. They’d been explicit with what to expect from them. I had to admire them from a distance, maybe without them fully knowing. And that was okay.

“What the fuck do you think we’re doing?” Seb sneered.

It occurred to me that the cool sweat on my back wasn’t necessarily mine. Seb had beckoned me over. Invited me into their bed. I explored with my tail to run into what must have been Gabe. He slumbered on, oblivious to his partner’s plight.

“Don’t you think you’re a little too old for her?” Wyst’s voice gained an edge, something to contend with Seb’s.

“This isn’t sexual!” They growled lightly. “Doesn’t need to be to share space.”

“Are we going to pretend the scabs on your ribs are platonic, then?” Wyst asked snidely. The marks that I had left on them. The enjoyment Seb had gotten out of my nails raking down their side and between their scars had been genuine. I hadn’t meant to get too exuberant about it. Especially not enough to draw blood and leave evidence days later.

“No,” Seb scoffed. “Don’t you think if my end goal was to bed Malxir, I’d have left by now instead of asking Gabe if he’d convince you to travel with us?”

“This was your idea.” Wyst didn’t ask. She stated it like fact.

“No. Gabe already planned on asking you to join. For you, despite Malxir.” Right. Because Gabe didn’t like Seb sleeping around. I would be a constant reminder that Seb wasn’t entirely faithful. He treated me well anyway. Like he cared. Genuinely.

“Why did you want us to?” Wyst asked in wonder.

“For Malxir,” Seb answered immediately. “Have you ever seen how skinny Malxir is?”

“I can see -”

“Under the shirt,” Seb amended.

“No.”

“No, of course not,” Seb agreed. “You’re jealous of me for that, aren’t you?”

Wyst didn’t reply. I’d have loved an answer. Why would Wyst be jealous of Seb? And more importantly, over me? That made no sense.

“Is it because Malxir approached me first? Because I set aside my age and fucked Mal anyway? Or maybe it’s because I’ve known Malxir for days and Mal’s sleeping in my bed tonight, hmm?”

“I am not jealous of you,” Wyst emphasized.

“Right,” Seb drawled. “Did you tell Malxir you were interested? Or was Mal supposed to catch the hint? Do you think I slept with Mal because Mal beat around the bush?” Seb snorted. They asked many questions, but in the kind of way where they already knew the answers.

“You. You are -” Wyst cut herself off.

Seb let her struggle over her accusation for a moment. “An asshole?” they supplied casually. “Can’t bring yourself to say it? You shouldn’t have stuck your nose where it didn’t belong, little elf.”

I didn’t like that their conversation turned into a fight over me. I wasn’t worth it. I appreciated that I continued to have Wyst’s support. She deserved my loyalties. But pitting herself against an ally wasn’t helping anyone. Seb wasn’t a threat. I was sure of it.

It also felt wrong to reveal that I’d been eavesdropping. I was already the center of attention. I didn’t need to be present for it, too.

“Mal is my teammate,” Wyst seethed.

“And so am I,” Seb sneered. “If you want Gabe’s knowledge, you’re going to have to accept that I’m his and we have an interest in Malxir as long as the kid lets us near. I don’t know what the fuck Mal sees in me, but I’m using it as a way in. I gather Malxir doesn’t do that much.”

“No,” Wyst agreed begrudgingly. “I’ve tried getting to know her.”

“Yeah,” Seb said softly. Like they were diffusing the argument. “Let me try and help.”

I didn’t need help. I’d never asked for it. I’d only petitioned Sebazin to stay. Something for me.

“Hey.” Skrit’s voice cut across the camp, sharp and cross. “Shut the fuck up. Some people are trying to sleep.”

Seb sniffed a laugh that sounded genuine. “Sorry, Skrit. It’s my fault.”

“Your gods damned fucking nightmares aren’t our problem,” Skrit snapped. “Don’t make it now.”

“I know. I’m sorry,” Seb stressed. “Wystralei didn’t know yet.”

“What kind of adult has nightmares that keeps them up anyway?” Skrit grumbled, no less irate.

“One damned by the gods, I guess,” Seb muttered. “Good night, Skrit.” Seb paced closer, dropping to their knees between me and Gabe. “You, too, Wyst,” they said. “This conversation is over. I won’t have it again.”

“Which one?”

“Both.”

“That’s not how that works,” she said haughtily.

The blanket lifted from me, touching me with chilled night air in the stamp of where Seb had been. They wriggled into place, their back to me rather than their arm around me as before.

“It will be,” they warned, voice too soft to possibly carry threat. I heard it anyway. “I won’t entertain it again.”

I scooted subtly back into them until the pattern of their scars were tangible through my shirt. Their tail wrapped around mine, curling over my ankles, in response.

“Good night, Wyst.”

Their face twitched and their ribs jumped. “Malxir?”

“Sebazin!” The relief about knocked me off my feet.

“You left me,” they accused. “How long’s it been?” Their words were barely intelligible. It was only years of traveling with them as their accent ebbed and flowed and compounded with drunken or concussed slurring that let me understand.

“I had to,” I whined. I needed to again. Besides the fact that I had no idea what an hour felt like, I also didn’t have an indication of how long I’d been free from Bertram’s home. “I must again.”

“No, don’t leave me,” Seb gasped. “Please don’t leave me alone anymore.”

I eyed the contents of their cell around them. The bucket had moved closer to them, still upright. Whether or not there was any water left, I couldn’t see. The bread was gone. No traced of it remained. Either Seb shared their cell with many rats and mice, or they’d figured out how to get it and eat it. The straw bedding was pushed around them, the floor beneath them bare stone.

“I need to go,” I said numbly. They were alive. There was nothing for me to do. The food my mother had given me and I’d saved for them was still in her home. If they had water, it had to be enough.

“Malxir!” Seb shouted, their voice cracking in the effort. “I can’t,” they rasped as soon as they could. “I can’t do this. Don’t leave me alone.”

I hugged myself tightly against the shroud of Seb’s thin cries and pleads. The raw sound of my name weighted me down even after I no longer physically heard them.

My mother waited for me in her shop when I climbed the ladder back into daylight. Late daylight, judging by its long shadows cast about the floor.

“Close the door,” she ordered. The tone in her voice was daggers. If I thought I could, I’d have jumped back down the hole to get away from her.

My mother didn’t give me any time to think or worry about it. The moment I’d swung the lid more closed than open, a pain so much worse than anything she’d used on me before ripped through my body. I collapsed, my sight blackening. My scream sounded as if it came from someone else.

I panted on the floor where I’d dropped, too afraid to curl up into myself. I must have lost enough time that I was late. I’d tried to do everything she wanted. Her magic hurt worse than anything I suffered traveling as a mercenary.

“You’re a worthless, pathetic child,” my mother sneered, venom dripping from her voice. “Why can’t you do anything? You can’t even do what I raised you to do!”

Oh fuck, what did she raise me to do? She used me and sold me. I usually found my own food. She’d never taught me anything specific except to stay quiet and still while she was around. I could do that. I’d always done that. I hadn’t said anything!

“You couldn’t be a man to Lowdie, could you?” my mother barked. The familiar mind splinter, no less damaging, pierced through my skull

I wrapped my arms around my head and sobbed. The liquid from my nose could have been snot or blood. I was well beyond the point of dignity and composure. My mother would make it worse for crying on her floor, but it was the only escape that I had left.

I couldn’t remember my time with Lowdie. I wasn’t sure how I got out of that room in that house. I thought I could do things I normally couldn’t when I went to the other place. I shouldn’t have disappointed anybody.

“Get up off my floor,” my mother demanded.

No. I couldn’t. I had no control over my tears. My body wasn’t working.

Another mind splinter scrambled my brain. “Get up, Malxir.”

How was I to do that? I didn’t know how to anymore. But then I did it. The height of standing was too much and I had no clue how I got there, but I had followed her command.

“Clean up,” my mother demanded off hand. “You’ve soaked your clothes in blood.”

I jerked my attention to my chest, staring at the stains in question. I didn’t remember how they’d gotten there. I hadn’t been wearing my clothes through the worst of the day.

“How?” I asked.

My mother’s lips formed around her magic. I reeled back in a panic, trying to physically ward off the attack with my hands. I didn’t have the means to take another one of her assaults.

“Nononono, please,” I sobbed. My back smacked into the counter. “Please, no.” I wasn’t trying to be glib. I didn’t want to be smart. I truly had no idea how I was supposed to do everything she demanded of me. I was tasked with keeping Seb alive, but without the tools to do so. She didn’t give me enough to live off of. And she kept me locked up so that I couldn’t do any of it myself. Now she wanted me to take out blood with no soap? No water?

“I want to,” I gasped when no pain came. She held off her disappointed punishment. “I want to, but I don’t know – how?” Granted, I had the knowledge. After years of traveling as a mercenary, it was practical clean up. My mother simply didn’t have what I needed.

My mother sneered at me, but she didn’t hurt me. “Get in the room,” she ordered. “Out of my sight.”

I didn’t trust my legs to support me. I crawled past her, tail tucked tight. I had no more answers than before, but I was going to accept her dismissal in haste. She couldn’t hurt me if she couldn’t see me.

My stomach protested at me when I collapsed on the floor beside the bed. It remembered the food I’d stored away for Seb, even if I hadn’t gotten it to them yet. I was weak and tired. I knew food helped when I felt like this, but I couldn’t do that to Seb. I had to try.

My mother kicked me awake. I startled back into the bed frame, cracking my spine on the edge of the wood.

“You never took care of your clothes,” she noted. “What kind of lazy worthless are you, Malxir?”

I stared silently up at her. There was no point in trying to defend myself. She would do with me as she saw fit regardless.

“Why didn’t you clean yourself?” my mother demanded.

It took me a second to comprehend that she expected an answer. “I don’t have water or soap.” My voice sounded foreign, far too raw and cracked to sound like my own.

“I gave you water to clean up yesterday. What did you do with it?” My mother was far from sympathetic. I found myself curling up against her quick anger, fully expecting a psychic attack.

“Soap?” The syllable was so faint, it hardly reached my own ears. I hadn’t thought to scrub my tunic. As soon as I’d left my m other’s line of sight, a bloody spot on my clothing had vacated my mind. Granted, I hadn’t meant to pass out on the floor, but cleaning up wasn’t the thing I’d accidentally avoided.

“Give me your clothing,” she sneered. “You don’t really get the luxury of present nice to Lowdie anymore.”

I whimpered despite myself. I was going to repeat that encounter? How many times until they gave up? Until I remembered something? I couldn’t pretend when I hated that function of my body so thoroughly.

As much as I hated it all, I automatically moved to comply. Fast action to my mother’s orders lessened the punishments. The punishments that caused the bloody clothing in the first place. I whipped off my tunic and wriggled out of my chausses, shoving them all in my mother’s direction. I swore I saw a brief moment of satisfaction. She gathered it up without another word and swept out of the room, leaving me behind without direction.

It was bright again, in the little I could see outside. I’d slept through the night on the floor where I’d collapsed. The soreness in my body could have been from the position I’d slept in or from the shackles at Bertram’s. Probably both.

I wobbled to my feet, taking my time to adjust my balance. My body responded sluggishly and my tail didn’t counter as well as it normally did. It moved, just not correctly. My tail wasn’t something I had to think about to stay upright.

I tried the door after my mother to find it steadfast in place. It wasn’t a surprise, of course. I expected it. I needed to try anyway. I checked the door to outside as well, wiggling the lock I could break through in seconds with the right tools.

I was still her prisoner.

I had nothing to do but wait.

My mother appeared again about half of the day later. She looked no happier than before. “Today you’ll take care of Sebazin first and then wait for Bertram in the cavern,” she told me. “Do not make him wait for you.”

“Yes, Mother,” I mumbled. They really were going to try again. It would never work.

She left me trembling in her wake, no further explanation. It gave me time to collect my wits, and then hunt down the meal my mother had given me the day previously and one of her cups with the only water I had available to me. It wrenched at me, the thought of offering dirty water to Seb, but it was all we had. I couldn’t bring myself to quench my thirst with it, but given a couple days in Seb’s position and I wouldn’t hesitate. I used to drink from murky puddles, when those had been available to me.

Getting past my mother without her noticing what I carried was easy. She didn’t care for what I did once it followed the path of her intentions. I struggled again down the ladder, and then I was temporarily free.

“Seb?” I asked in the door as I let myself in.

Seb was still. They’d brought their tail in tight in some sort of self-placating wrap. Something I normally resorted to. Not Seb. If it weren’t for the tension in their tail, I would have thought them gone again. It scared me, how little they breathed.

“Seb,” I tried again. I hoped the volume of my voice woke them. It didn’t. I couldn’t be too late. Bringing them their food. Replenishing their water. This couldn’t be the way I lost them.

“Sebazin, please,” I begged, rattling the door with my words. I could pretend that I had time. I could talk to them like they wanted. I missed them, even if their haunting cries after me was my first thought of them every time they crossed my mind.

I contemplated the food in my arm and threw it at them. I wanted to hit them, to see if I could physically startle them awake. They needed the food. I couldn’t throw too hard and risk anything bouncing out of their reach. I didn’t know if they’d gotten anything from the bread I stole for them.

The food could survive getting thrown. The cup of water, on the other hand, required a different method.

I wasn’t reaching Seb’s bucket. I didn’t need to try to know it would never work. All I had was shoving the cup into their cell as far as I could like I had with the bucket, careful not to snag the cup on the floor and spill its contents. It would take luck for Seb to reach it and pull it closer, but luck was all the two of us had left.

I sat and used the toes of both feet to keep the cup steady. I strained as hard as I could against the iron, ignoring its pressure into my groin. When the cup was as far as it was going to get, my job was done. They hadn’t stirred once.

“I love you, Sebazin,” I murmured. It didn’t matter that they wouldn’t hear. “I love you so much.” I did. I always had, since I met them.

I wiped my sleeve across my face and sniffled when I rose back to my feet. They were going to wake up, find the food, drink enough water, and they were going to live. My mother would slip eventually. She couldn’t leave Seb strung up forever. We were going to get out.

We had to.