Page 103 of Spoils of war
But nothing came.
Just wind. Just the soft crackle of flames outside.
And then—
Sleep.
Not like before. Not shallow or haunted or panicked.
I didn’t fall.
I drifted.
----- ?⋅?⋅? -----
For a moment, I forgot where I was. The hut. The fire. The cold air curling around my ankles. It all reminded me, and the world came back slowly, piece by piece. I sat up, the blanket slipping from my shoulders. Pale morning light filtered through the slats in the wall, and something inside me felt different. Lighter. Quieter.
Aran peeked his head into the hut, already grinning like he knew what I was going to say.
“How do you feel?”
“I—” I rubbed at my eyes, squinting against the light. “I didn’t dream.”
His grin stretched wider, like he’d just won a bet.
“See? Told you that stuff would work.”
I didn’t answer. I was still trying to wrap my head around it. There had been no fire. No screaming. No waking up with my heart racing or sweat sticking to my skin.
Just sleep. Real, solid sleep.
“It was weird,” I said after a moment. “I didn’t think it would actually do anything. But I slept.” I looked down at my hands, at the blanket gathered in my lap. I didn’t even realize I was gripping it. “I didn’t dream, at all.”
Outside, Will crouched by the fire, stirring a pot.
“So what, you’re saying some magic rocks and purple water actually worked?” he chimed in. His voice wasn’t sharp. His jabs were always saved for Aran. And Aran, of course, didn’t miss a beat.
“Yes, Will,” he said, stretching like a cat in the sun. “That’s exactly what we’re saying.”
Will stood with a sigh, and came over. He handed me a bowl of oats, warm and heavy, and met my eyes.
“If it helped you sleep,” he said, “that’s all that matters.”
I took the bowl in both hands, letting the heat soak into my fingers.
“Thanks.”
Aran nudged a pebble near the fire pit. “Maybe we should go see her again. See what else she’s got. If this worked...”
Will raised a brow.
“You want to stock up on trinkets and potions now?”
“If it helps Kera,” Aran said, unfazed, “I’d buy her whole stock.”
I looked between them, unsure. The sleep had been real. The calm, the quiet, the stillness in my chest. But it still felt fragile, like something I could lose the second I trusted it.
“And you can afford that, can you?” Will crossed his arms. “One night doesn’t mean anything. We can’t count on it.”
