Great Spirits

∆ Twenty-Five ∆

Wren woke feeling refreshed despite the weight of his thoughts, even those involving Silas. He hadn't expected to sleep so soundly. Yawning, he moved to stretch but stopped midway when he touched something soft and fleshy. Wren turned and shrank back, though the surprise should have faded by now. Silas had always done this—sneaking into his bed when there was a perfectly good one nearby.

Instead of reacting negatively, as he always did, Wren threaded his fingers through Silas' hair, quietly observing him as he slept. How tired must he feel after the week they had... He snatched his hand back the moment he realized what he had done and got up from the bed, creating much-needed distance between them. It'd do him no good becoming any closer to him, Wren reasoned.

He drew further from Silas, heading towards the washbowl and splashing water onto his face. His hands turned cold and wrinkled, resembling raisins, by the time he stopped. Almost involuntarily, he turned to look at Silas. Beneath the bed, tree roots and a large patch of grass had grown. It seemed like his power was trickling out unnoticed, as if a block had been removed, and the excess was now seeping out. Was that what Silas meant then? That was what he got from them in return?

Wren groaned. He needed a quick wash and a change of clothes. And great gods, he needed to do something with his hair. It was a tangled mess, threatening to mat if he chose to do nothing with it for another day. A knock came from the door, distracting him from his thoughts. He opened the door without thought and was faced with a towering, overbearing Yali woman who shoved her way through, making way for Calla to pass as a small giggle escaped her. Seti's long thick braid swung across her back like a pendulum.

"Seti," Wren said, exhausted.

Oh, please, Wren, don't sound so excited," Seti drawled, lounging in a chair. The shirt she wore bore the distinctive Yali design, dipping low and cut short, revealing her waist, which accentuated her figure. She casually tapped the seat next to her, and, with a reluctant sigh, Wren obliged. Meanwhile, Calla strolled towards the bed where Silas lay, her gaze lingering on the floor below as she took note of her surroundings.

"Walla told me you'd be here. Said you and he went hunting after the night at the tavern." She searched his eyes and said, "seems that much is true. You look like shit."

Wren huffed, frowning. Her gold and thatched bracelets jingled as she crossed her arms and rocked back against the chair.

"Yeah, I am in great need of a bath right now. I am just waiting for Silas to wake up."

She flicked her brown, studied eyes to Silas and the undisturbed bed before looking back at Wren, grinning. "Had a long night did you?"

"Something like that," Wren grumbled.

"A bit grumpy for a person who had a nice romp, eh?"

She sat forward and leaned against the table, eyeing him. "You okay, Wren?"

Wren was anything but. He was stressed and needed someone to confide in other than Walla or Silas. Wren was not sure if Walla would want to speak to him for a while after the words that were exchanged, which worried Wren. Silas and his words disturbed him and filled him with much fear for what was to come. Seti was steady ground he could rely on. Despite her demeanor, she was a good listener and, most times, did not shy away from hearing another perspective other than her own.

Wren shook his head, eyes welling with tears. "Seti, I do not know what to do. Walla he–– he despises Silas and despises the fact that I despise that."

Seti snorted. "Funny. He was the one spinning all those tales about the two of you around the ship. Figured he..." She shrugged and sat back. "He'll come around. I am sure. He'd do it for you."