He doesn't really think twice when Kamille offers him the book; as her guest, he feels pretty obligated to take whatever she hands to him, but— Caedes promptly inhales the last contents of the potion he’d been given, narrowly stops himself with a cupped hand from spitting it all over her floor, and erupts into a fit of coughing after taking the book from Kamille.

Once he’s finished, he does a double take at the cover of the book in his hand—

Oh yeah, that is exactly what he thought he saw. Is he holding smut? Did Kamille just give him pure, unadulterated (possibly adulterated) smut? As a thanks for saving Zarius? She handed him smut as a thanks for saving Zarius, FUCK, that means he has to accept it as a courtesy, doesn’t he?

“Youuu….”

What is he supposed to do with this, exactly!?

“… really didn’t have to, wow. Uh, your generosity proceeds you, Miss Kamille. Thank you for the… for this.” He clears his throat, and the changeling flips the book over while he speaks. Promptly, he is met with a different set of spicy and shirtless illustrations which (albeit admittedly impressive), really represent everything he’d not expected to be handed from the Witch of the Moonglade...

He does his best not to make a face or wrinkle his nose while he reads the back summary.

Be Still My Beating Heart: the hit sequel to Until Death Do We Part by the Ash Land’s Best-Selling Author, Hugh Jarse. Following the events of Until Death Do We Part, a mortal Ashen Heir and his vampiric right hand man are stranded in the King’s Valley together; and what makes things worse is that the immortal has been gravely injured by an objective gone wrong… and needs blood to heal. Can they survive the day together?

---

When the Order sends Zander and Cassian out together after the unfortunate circumstances revolving around the events of Until Death Do We Part, a simple sabotage mission turns on its head when the involvement of the Crimson Calvary comes into play. After their plan goes awry, Zander abandons his position to save Cassian from sure disaster; but the vampire’s already been gravely injured by the time he arrives.

After helping to subdue their assailant, Zander uses their drake as a means of escape to an abandoned homestead, where Cassian can wait out the daylight. But bad goes to worse when Cassian begins to show signs of vampiric exhaustion, sure to lead to a blood-lust fueled rampage if left unaddressed; and Zander is the only living being within miles.

With Cassian refusing to take Zander's blood at risk of turning him, and unresolved tensions still broiling between them, can they survive together until nightfall? Or will the unanswered questions between them be too much for either man to handle?

Find out in this heart-stopping romantic thriller.

Oh...

Oh, he hates it.

Caedes stares absently, lips parted slightly around the bottom rim of the glass bottle in an utterly baffled expression.

This book sounds like garbage— hot garbage.

Metaphorically and literally.

How can he unread a book’s summary...? Where does the heart-stopping even come into play? The summary sounds nothing like the title!

... And more importantly, did the Witch of the Moonglade actually read this? Why does she have two copies of it? What kind of name is Hugh Jarse? Are they fucking serious with that pen name???

He blinks a few times, brows furrowing; and for a time, he is genuinely clueless to the other conversation happening between Beist and Kamille while he comprehends what the actual hell he’s holding in his hands right now.

Given the look of satisfaction on the Witch's face upon watching Caedes' reaction, it would be a fairly accurate assumption to say she wanted to mess with him too. Not that she also didn't want to make a point - or try to - but if she could do it at the same time she could see the utter horror in a handsome man's face, all the better. She tried to hide her grin behind a cup of tea as Caedes struggled to remain polite as his face muscles pinched and twisted in an attempt at avoiding making a face or wrinkling his nose at it - oh, she was fairly aware of how her tastes looked like to an outsider. One would naturally think that if she had a spare copy, it meant there was one copy meant to be a permanent resident of her library. And she was so unabashed about the fact that she managed to put the spare in his hands without even blushing!

Maybe she could even invite Caedes to a certain group if he showed signs of interest, but that was a conversation for the far future...

Mission accomplished. Now, she could turn to Beist to pay attention to what he was asking.

"I doubt you can possibly put me in more trouble than I already get on my own, Beist. No need to talk to the Consortium about this."

With a gentle tap to his arm, she smiled at him, apparently confident Beist would keep it to himself. And if he didn't... Well, she had her ways of dismissing some kind of problems, but mostly the title of Witch of Moonglade really did give her a free pass in a couple of situations.

"I know barely above what everyone knows. I have a friend who is a werewolf - he helps me keep the forest peaceful and free of bandits. Though it's been a hard job these last few months..."

Between the simple pouchers and mercenaries, the bandits seemed to be more organized now, but she wouldn't delve into that.

"Well... You said a potion caused this, right? What were you trying to do? Well, I'm sorry for prying, you don't need to tell me anything. But if you ever want to, I'd me more than willing to lend an ear to you. Where do you get your reagents from? I have a few suppliers who I trust with quality reagents, I could give you a few names. And, of course, there's a few things I don't trust anyone else to collect but myself..."

It was clear that between her and Beist, they could spend the whole evening talking about alchemy and reagents, potions and plants, without even noticing the sun rising. Kamille extended her invitation to spend the night both to Caedes and Beist, so they were free to go or go to sleep anytime they wanted. The couch was already taken, though, as Edgar snored soundly from there.

His curiosity piqued by Caedes' reaction, Beist took a look at the book he was given and immediately felt his jaw drop and his entire face warm up, his skin darkening a few shades. Was she giving him a smut novel!? A man she'd met for the first time today, she was giving... oh goodness, Kamille, no! WHY!? ...The art on the cover was admittedly very impressive though.

He cleared his throat and turned his attention back to Kamille, trying to pretend he hadn't seen that.

"It's alright. I can tell you. I don't believe I've shared this information with you before, but I was actually born a Werebeast myself. A Werebear, specifically. Being a Werebeast is... difficult, to say the least. Not having control of yourself at times, turning into a violent beast, being a danger to others. It's truly a curse. I tried to make a cure that would allow me to not lose my mind whenever I transformed. I spent years on the formula, trying to make it perfect. And when I felt I had finally succeeded, I drank it. The results were... not exactly what I'd wanted. I was in control of myself, but I was stuck in my beast form. On top of that, my beast form was altered drastically. I doubt you could even tell I was a Werebear. That was what I looked like when we first met. After that, I attempted to make another potion, to reverse the first one, but I rushed it. It only made things worse. I grew even larger, and more monstrous. What you see now."

Beist sighed and took a sip of tea before continuing.

"Maybe I was too greedy. Maybe it wouldn't have ended up this way if I'd tried to simply make something to completely remove the curse rather than gain control of it. Maybe I should have not been in such a hurry to try to change myself back and taken more time with the second potion, or asked for help with it. I don't know. In any case, this is my own fault."

Zarius is still asleep. 

But the same could not be said for another fellblood of similar complexion currently flipping through a book as she walks down a softly lit hallway. She's shorter than Zarius by a few inches and his younger by a couple of years. Her long curly hair falls across her shoulders and back while the glint of her jewelry catches the light with every step. She's wearing a relatively simple and modest floor length dress that shimmers ever so slightly as she moves through the space. 

The walls are decorated with ornately framed artwork while a deep red runner sprawls down the length of the hall. She walks past solid wood doors leading to various other rooms and vases filled with flora found across the Ash Lands which sit on spindly legged side tables. Whatever this place was, it was large and lavish. 

The younger fellblood pauses at a door before she flips to the next page in the book she was carrying. Tucking a strand of hair behind her pointed ear, she finishes reading and closes the book quietly. For a moment she just stands there in the seemingly empty hall while facing the door before her. A contemplative look crosses her face before she finally steps forward and opens the door quietly. 

She enters into a study lined with shelves of books. The overhead lantern which was darkened, slowly starts to glow and illuminate the room. The door stays open for a moment longer after she passes through it before it slowly closes. Stepping across the polished wooden floor, she places the book down on an ornate wooden desk then turns to face the door once more. 

"Any word from my brother?" She asks seemingly to thin air as no one else appears to be present in the study.

Appearing out of nowhere is a tall half-elf with indigo skin and short white hair that is swept to the side. The man shakes his head in response to the question. 

The fellblood purses her lips. "I see. Please alert me the moment you hear anything."

The half-elf raises and eyebrow and raises their hands to form various gestures. 

She watches these gestures then sighs. "I know he can take care of himself, Eirynor. I am just worried because he should have been back by now."

Eirynor does not look nearly as concerned and just signs not to worry. 

The fellblood turns away from the half-elf and starts searching through the shelves for a different book to read in the meantime. 

When Caedes finally regains his bearings after the shock of… well… all of this, he’s blinking himself back into Kamille and Beist’s conversation. He lifts his eyes, looking absently between Kamille and Beist as they exchange words of werebeasts and the Golden Consortium; slowly, he drifts back into normal function, and tips his head back to finish what’s left of the potion in the bottle without spitting the contents out.

The liquid slide smoothly down his throat, leaving behind a tingling sensation throughout his wounded leg; its taste is laced with iron, but it’s not necessarily… a bad taste in the slightest. It’s pleasant in an unfamiliar kind of way.

He doesn’t think too much of it initially.

Caedes lowers his head, stretching his leg out to flex the damaged muscles and test the healing capabilities of the witch’s potion. It’s… fine; his leg, that is. Ruddy crimson still stains deep in the fabrics of his pants; but what would have been a rather concerning open wound has closed, leaving behind nary a scar as evidence.

He even feels fairly refreshed; the potion wipes away a portion of the fatigue, eases the tension in his shoulders and legs, and somewhat eases anxious wanderings in his mind. It’s quite a turn from how he felt earlier, barely able to keep himself upright as he maneuvered between infirmary and kitchen. It’s definitely an improvement that he’s thankful for despite his many insistences that he’ll be fine; because truthfully, he would be mostly fine.

It wouldn’t kill him, anyways.

He clears his throat to catch the attention of both Beist and Kamille in the middle of their chat, “Well,” he starts as he pushes himself from his seat. He tests his leg; he’s able to remain flat against the floor without strain or wince. “Miss Kamille, Mister Beist… thank you both for your help. I am very grateful, and I’m sure Zarius would be too if he weren’t out cold. However, I am also… very tired. It’s been a long trip. You understand.”

He offers them both a lopsided smile; his cloak shifts, falling down one shoulder slightly as Charlotte climbs up around, and behind his back. “I’m going to check on Zarius and turn in for the night… the infirmary is fine for me to stay in for now?” He turns a glance to Kamille, waiting patiently for her response, before dipping his head. “I’ll leave you to your catching up… have a good night, and thank you again for everything, and for… uh... token of gratitude.”

Caedes looks at the book tucked under his arm and chuckles sheepishly; what the actual hell does he even do with this? Regardless, with that, the pale man excuses himself with a wave, pushes his chair in, and heads back to the infirmary where the fellblood is resting. 

He, likely, will not sleep… but he will do his best to rest after the stressful trip to get Zarius somewhere safe.

The Witch certainly was a mischievous one, and her lack of embarrassement was evidence of it. More than it, it was fun to watch Caedes' embarrassement. 

"You can make yourself comfortable at the infirmary if you'd like, for sure. If you part before we can meet again, I wish you both safe travels."

It's such a shame she didn’t get to know more about Zarius' mysterious friend, but certainly things would come in time...

Turning her attention back to Beist, she listened intently to his story. Despite her generally favorable opinion of the monstrous and terrifying, she nodded along as Beist explained his story. To lose control was a dangerous thing. It was truly a blessing that Beist was as gentle as he was strong - she's seen him knock out someone on accident, and she could only wonder what kind of damage he could cause if he put his mind to it. He was such a caring and gentle soul...

"I don’t blame you at all, Beist. Sometimes we are handed a bad hand at life and want to make the best of our circumstances, that is natural. You're not in the wrong."

That was not her field of expertise. Perhaps she could have a talk with Úlfr to know more about the werebeasts? The lycan was an old friend, and probably wouldn’t oppose to talking about it. She knew it might be a different situation than that of Beist, but it was worth trying.

"I think it's a good thing I brought up the Golden Consortium, then. If there is someone with the knowledge to help you, they might be there. Tell you what: if I ever come accross an opportunity to join the guild, I'll let you know."

Assuming Beist would want to ask for help, that is, as she wouldn’t press any further the gentle giant.

"If it eases your load... I'm always of the opinion that its the deeds that make the person. And so far all you've done is to care for others wellbeing to the point of dropping everything you were doing to answer a call from a friend, no payment expected. If you ever find yourself in trouble, Beist, please don’t hesitate on calling."

She leaned back as she took the remaing of the tea. Let's see how Beist would react to that...

"You might've noticed, but I don’t often care about others monstrousness... Neither the beastly nor cursed... Werebeast or vampire alike... The deeds are what matters."

With a tired sigh, Kamille stood up to start and wash the dishes.

"If you want to stay the night, you're welcome to stay, Beist. I owe you for healing my associate back there. That was quite impressive, by the way."

Beist just gave Caedes a small wave as he left for the infirmary. He hadn't known him for very long, but he hoped to help him realize his special circumstances at his own pace. Beist didn't really care for the rumors that Werebeasts and Vampires were enemies. Really, he didn't consider himself a Werebeast anymore anyways, so why couldn't the two of them be friends?

Beist didn't know what to say to Kamille after hearing so much of exactly what he felt he needed to hear. His heart ached and he was sure it was visible on his face that he was trying very hard not to cry. He turned away from Kamille for a few moments to wipe his eyes and pull himself together.

"Thank you... I'd be happy to join the Consortium. We could join together." He choked out and then cleared his throat. "Excuse me, something in my throat..." He mumbled unconvincingly before turning back to Kamille.

"I'm glad to help, but I can't take all the credit. That healing magic wasn't really mine. It came from Pretzels here." Beist explained in a whisper, pointing a finger at the white serpent snuggled back into the fluff around his neck and snoozing. The proud little snake had gone back to sleep after growing bored of the conversation that wasn't about him. "He's a touch vain, so I wouldn't say this while he's awake, but he truly is a powerful creature even if he doesn't look like it at the moment. I can hardly keep him contained..."

Beist let out a sigh and put a hand on his chest. The snake had been a handful ever since he'd found him. A giant, feathered serpent atop a mountain slowly dying after being attacked by such a strong group of hunters. He would have died if Beist hadn't happened upon him when he did. And now he was reduced to such a small form, all he could manifest after attaching his incredibly weakened spirit to Beist. How long Beist could contain that spirit that seemed to regain some of its former strength by the day, he didn't know. Even in a reduced state, he could use such incredible healing magic.

It wasn't something he wanted to burden anyone else with knowing, not even Kamille.

"Staying the night wouldn't be too bad. It's been a while since I've slept in a real house instead of my wagon, but I'm not sure you'd have a bed large enough to fit me. Why, you'd probably have to push all the beds in the infirmary together just for me. There wouldn't even be enough left to let Caedes and Zarius each have their own. No, I should get going." Beist joked with a slightly apologetic tone.

When Caedes returns to the infirmary, not much has changed. Zarius remains asleep with his breathing steady. He doesn't even wake up when Kamille and Beist inevitably shove all the remaining beds around in the infirmary. The sound of bed legs scraping across the floor is awful, but only Caedes is awake to suffer the ear agony. 

After a few solid hours of sleep despite the rumbling snore that emanates from Beist. It's not until daylight starts to stream through the curtains that Zarius's eyes flit open. It takes him a moment to regain his bearings which is enough time for another snore to break the peace. 

Zarius makes a perplexed expression as he glances to the side to see Beist not that far away sprawled across at least a dozen beds. The magic he cast on the fellblood's arm must have tuckered him right out.

Carefully sitting up, Zarius rubs the back of his neck before looking around the room. His eyes land on Caedes who is not that far from him. A wave of relief washes over him, but instead of showing it, a smug smirk spreads across his face. 

"Did you even try to sleep? Or did the bear in the room keep you awake all night?" He gestures towards Beist but keeps his voice low. He didn't want to insult the man who basically saved him from losing an arm. 

Swinging his legs over the side of the bed, he takes things slow to ensure that he is stable on his feet as he tests his weight on his legs. He'd already caused the assassin, Kamille, and Beist enough trouble. No need to go faceplanting into the floor now. 

His eyes flit to Caedes again. "My memory is a little fuzzy, so if I have not said it already, thank you, and I apologize for the inconvenience. I owe you."

It's a scary thing to owe a life debt to an assassin. He only hopes that this gamble will end up paying off in the long run. Gods, he prays it will be a long run. 

Taking a breath, he rolls his shoulders. His body still feels a bit off, but he feels good enough to go back out on the road. The sooner they go, the better. Though he supposes he should at least thank Kamille again or leave her a note. He owes her and Beist too. The thought of owing so many people his life sure gives him mixed feelings. Beist likely won't take advantage of him, but he couldn't say with confidence that Kamille wouldn't try to get something out of him later. He sighs. Oh well, that was a future problem. 

"I will not make you linger here any longer," he says to Caedes. "We can leave. Or we can part ways. Whatever is easiest. I just need to bid farewell to Lady Kamille." 

By the time Caedes escapes the kitchen and enters the infirmary, Zarius is already asleep.

When Kamille and Beist join them in the infirmary later, Caedes has already been quietly occupying the bed next to the fellblood for a time. Charlotte appears to have made herself comfortable at the foot of Caedes’ bed, nestled snugly within a cocoon of blankets that the changeling must have curled up for her from his own cot before he laid down. All eight of her legs peek out at funny angles while she dozes.

He greets the duo of witch and healer as they enter with a lazy wave, and watches them with a quizzical look as they go about scraping the rest of the infirmary beds across the floor together. He grimaces, bearing the sound for only a moment before he gets up to help them.

Charlotte wakes up from the noise and gazes sleepily from her nest of blankets.

When all is said and done, Caedes returns to his cot with Charlotte. The spider’s eight eyes have already shut, and he tries to bunker down with her— but sleep doesn’t come easy. It actually does not come at all; and once he’s certain Beist has fallen asleep, the changeling slowly drags himself back into a sitting position.

---

By the time Zarius wakes up, Charlotte has moved from the foot of Caedes’ bed to sprawl over the changeling’s chest in a way that might appear cat-like if she wasn’t quite so much of an arachnid. The changeling has spent the night very awake; it’s difficult to find rest with company he does not know, let alone when that company is the Witch of the Moonglade, her entourage, and a healer who stands at twice his height.

To ease the boredom, he caved to the book Kamille gave him— only intending to pluck away at the first few pages with disdain— but instead, finding himself halfway through the book by sunrise. Several hours have been spent grumbling to himself about the main characters’ inabilities to have a single proper conversation; this absolute wagon wreck is a page turner if only for its absurdity. Is it really that hard? Just talk to him, Cassian! You’re on the same page, dumbass!

Of course, once Zarius starts to show signs of waking, Caedes is quick to stash the book— so, when Zarius starts to sit up, he can greet him normally without having to explain. Hopefully. “Good morning, your highness.” He greets; Charlotte stirs at the sound of their voices. She curls her legs inwards, reluctant to wake. “How’re you feeling?” He rests a hand on the widow’s back, letting her snooze for just a while longer.

He holds back a chortle at Zarius’ question, but meets it with a wry grin. “I tried to fall asleep a few times, but sawing logs is hardly a lullaby. No luck.” He jests, watching Zarius with a subtle attentiveness while the fellblood gets his bearings. Charlotte stirs again, this time, blinking her eyes open. She looks up at him, before looking towards Zarius with some uncoordinated blinks.

Caedes waves a hand dismissively before placing it over his chest. “Next time, you can carry me up the witch’s endless flights of stairs and we’ll call it even.” He promises noncommittally, chuckling as he begins to sit up. 

He keeps a note of the statement, though; besides if he were to let Zarius die here, how can he hold him to their conversation?

He watches Zarius go through the process of testing his shoulders for a moment, before turning away and sliding his legs off of the bed. Charlotte starts to crawl her way up onto one of his shoulders, leaving his hands free for now. “I’m in no rush, just yet. Besides— who will keep you from yet another ooze incident if I were to let you wander off by yourself? I shudder at the thought.”

If there was a b-witch bold enough to demand people to accept her hospitality, it was her. Beist's joke either completely flew over her head, or seemed to compel her even more to have him stay.

"Nonsense! There's always a way, come on!"

Zarius slept like the dead, or he might as well be truly dead to not be awaken by the ruckus that Kamille raised to prepare the infirmary. As most things in the Witch's house, the furniture moved according to her will, gracefully scratching the floor like nails on chalkboard. Warm as she might be, subtlety was not her strong suit. Checking up on Zarius one last time and seeing as her other guests had everything they needed, she retreated to the upper floor.

And maybe against the expectations, the night was calm and uneventful, regardless of the promise of a haunting experience one might assume from a Witch's house. If anything, it was easy to cast way the strangeness of being in an unfamiliar environment, as the peace and stillness and silence of the place finally set in. A sanctuary of sorts, not in small part due to the the Witch's reputation.

No one would bother them.

It was a silent part of the world, where they woke up with the mists rolling over the river beneath the house. All was white and blurry outside, the chill of the early morning stopping at the Witch's door.

As much as she could be a gracious host, it would seem Kamille didn't like farewells, as daybreak wouldn't find her anywhere. Maybe she had other places to be before sunrise, maybe she was just used to her sketchiest guests habits of leaving before the light rose on the horizon. Yet she would make sure they got everything they needed, leaving a small bundle to each and every one of them, along with a note to apologize for her absence and granting them permission to help themselves to her kitchen. If Zarius' first visit was of any indication, she wouldn't be surprised they would leave their bundles untouched - but the offer was up anyway. Kamille herself would only emerge from the depths of the upper floors past sunrise time, when the cold of the outside world would start to give in to the warmth of the day, painting the gray landscape with greens and golds.

The only living soul in the early morning was Mischief, tapping his little feet around his perch and treasured baubles, possibly adding a new stolen item to his collection. Mischief croaked at the guests when they shuffled out of the infirmary, shaking the silence of the morning for a second only.

And if the trek up the stairs was arduous enough the day before, the way back almost looked like a trap: the stairs dissappeared down the path, veiled by the early morning mists, demanding an equaly slow and careful decend...

Unless, of course, they'd want to go back to the infirmary.

Beist watched on in surprise and a little bit of fear as Kamille suddenly pushed every bed in the infirmary together except for the one Zarius was on, dragging them across the floor and leaving scratches in the wood, until they had all been combined into one bed large enough for the giant beastman.

He'd been joking when he suggested that, but Kamille had actually gone and done it. Would it be rude to leave after she just did all this work just for his sake? It would definitely be awkward. Oh, he should have offered to help move al the beds, but he was too surprised to even say anything.

"Uh. Thank you... Very much, Kamille. I suppose it would be alright to spend one night. Let me just tell Dora. She's been waiting for me outside all this time, she might be worried." Beist said hesitantly, trying to stay polite and not show how much he had been ready to just go back to his wagon to sleep for the night.

He went to the front door and told Dora about the situation and that he couldn't say no to spending the night here. She rolled her eyes and flew back down to the base of the stairs where Beist had parked his wagon to retrieve the sleepy bat still hanging from the ceiling inside before returning. She would be fine sleeping outside, but Beist sought Kamille's permission for the griffon to come at least into the entryway to rest.

Once everything was settled for him and his animal companions, Beist laid down on the amalgamation of mattresses put together for him. The beds groaned as he laid his weight across them, but they were at least sturdy enough with the weight shared amongst them to not collapse under the giant.

It wasn't very comfortable with all of the separate mattresses not held together very well, the gaps between them were easy to feel, and he couldn't shake the feeling the frames could give way at any moment. His bed in his wagon didn't even have a frame for that exact reason. He just tried to move as little as possible as he lied on his back with two arms at his sides and two with their fingers locked atop his stomach. Eventually, his tiredness got the better of him and he finally fell unconscious.

And unfortunately for the other two in the room, unbeknownst to the giant beastman, he snored like a herd of passing buffalo trying to saw through a log while being chased by a congested grizzly bear.

His ground shaking snoring was only interrupted by the occasional incoherent mumble about something to do with plants, animals, or alchemy. One person who didn't seem to mind his snoring at all was the tiny bat that flitted into the room at some point and bit Beist in the arm for a few minutes before flying off to see the rest of the house. Beist apparently didn't even notice as he just kept snoring.

Zarius rolls his eyes at the highness comment. It's becoming very clear to him that Caedes - despite being raised and trained to be a cold-blooded killer - is kind of a brat.

He sighs. Well, regardless, it's too soon to say whether getting entangled with him will be a mistake or not. At the very least, he does owe the assassin for saving his life.

“I am better, clearly.” He flexes his healed hand. Losing it would have been quite an inconvenience, so he’s glad they managed to get at least lucky enough to find folks who could deal with the damage. It would have been awkward to explain to his family what happened and certainly would raise too many questions amongst his other allies. An interrogation about his own folly is not something he wishes to engage in.

He glances back at Caedes as the assassin puts a hand to their chest. He scoffs. “Let us try to avoid there being a next time. This was a rather unpleasant experience.”

As he rolls his shoulders, he’s very aware of how his body feels. He still feels a bit off. It’s not unexpected given just how close to dying he got. In reality, he should feel much worse than just a little off. Kamille and Beist’s magic is impressive to say the least. They’ll be valuable assets in the long run if he can keep their favor.

The tip of his ear twitches at Caedes’s next words and he gives the man an unimpressed look.

“You talk as if this was not a freak accident. I can assure you that I do not go out of my way to encounter oozes on a regular basis.”

He certainly wouldn’t be seeking them out intentionally ever again. This whole incident has soured his enthusiasm to try and use having a working relationship with Lloyd to his advantage in any future schemes.

“You shudder, do you?” He muses. “Well, I suppose we cannot have that.”

Zarius leads the way out of the infirmary and back into the common space of the home. He does a quiet search for the witch, but only finds her mischievous bird and a note apologizing for her absence. Part of him is relieved they have the chance to leave without any lengthy conversations, but another part of him feels a bit unsettled. Maybe that’s because of the unknown contents of the care bundles Kamille has left for them.

Despite all that Kamille has done for him, he’s still wary of her intentions. He’s not ungrateful, of course, but he knows she’s smart and crafty. Schemers best recognize their own kind after all. Though he’s not as worried about being poisoned by the witch given all the opportunity she’s had, he still wonders if any of her gifts would give her a way to spy or track him.

Would he care?

Maybe the answer to that would change in the future after they learn to trust each other more. After they fight monsters together, after they have a confrontation at a ritzy ball, and after they have shared personal secrets and goals with one another. Maybe after all that, he wouldn’t worry about the witch discovering who he was, but for now, he still wants to keep his cards close to his chest.

He starts to turn away from the bundles, rejecting the offering of care. Then his stomach twists with hunger pains. Some things magic can’t fix. He takes a long breath then tucks the bundles away in his own bag with an air of frustration and defeat.

“Let’s go,” he says quietly to Caedes before stepping back out the front door and starting the long descent down the stairs into the swirling mists of the early Moonglade morning.

A hum of feigned interest paired with a quirked smile and an impish sounding agreement of, “Oh, yes; clearly,” makes the assassin that much more of a punchable brat. It is, frankly, a miracle that Zarius doesn’t use him to test the strength of his healed arm. The changeling grins when Zarius scoffs back at him and bubbles into a soft laugh that’s ultimately drowned out by the snores of one large werebear still snoozing in the infirmary.

He feels the tip-tap of Charlotte’s narrow legs as she shuffles, ultimately resting her head on the dip of his collarbone while Caedes studies Zarius quietly from across the gap. All things considered, he does look better: it’s difficult to forget the way he’d been before; the waves of consciousness, the silence between dazed murmurs, the smell of blood and decay and pinpricks of anxiety while he watched Zarius nearly fade away; and with him, would have died every word spoken between them.

Their deal still stands, and for now, so does the tiniest sliver of hope that this all will mean something in the long run. There’s so many ways that this could go wrong; there’s so many ways that Zarius could stab him in the back; and there’s so many ways he could fuck things up.

It’s hard to tell where this might go.

A snort punctuates the silence after Zarius gives him a look that is less than impressed. “Hells if I know,” Caedes objects; he shrugs innocently despite the mischievous smirk on his lips. “I don’t know what your hobbies are; for all I know, you could go ooze jumping every other week. I’m just saying, someone has got to keep you out of trouble.”

One thing he does know, however, is that Zarius is very fun to irritate.

Caedes doesn’t make a gesture to leave until Zarius has gotten out of his bed; but once he does, Caedes is quick to follow on sore legs. Charlotte glances sidelong at the sleeping Beist as he heads out the door, and wonders if he has anymore candy. He seems pretty asleep though, she concludes, after the room nearly shakes with another earth-trembling snore.

That’s okay.

When Beist wakes up, he’d still find a small daisy sitting between his eyebrows, threaded with small webs in his fur from the little spider to keep it from being inhaled or blown away while he sleeps.

Caedes, however, wouldn’t leave much behind but a memory.

He waits at the threshhold, his own offered bundles already tucked away into his pack (along with one very questionable book); he chuckles over the change in Zarius’ expression, waiting for him to sweep the bundles into his bag. “Ready? You sure you don't want to say goodbye?”

It’s difficult to determine the web of a future; the way each thread intertwines with purpose, delicately leading one into another in search of stability and purpose. There may come a time that Caedes regrets not leaving a thank you note to both Beist and Kamille; but that time is not now. It’s far too soon for him to realize the parts that those within this home will play in the long run, or that those here will be anything more than a temporary face, or mean anything more than a deal, a favour, or a good deed come months to pass.

When he’s ready, he follows Zarius and closes the door behind them, barely able to hold back the taunt in his voice as he adds just before the two descend the first couple of endless steps, “You’re not going to need me to carry you down the stairs too, are you, Zarius?”