War Of Men

Merari

The door creaked open behind her and Emilee came in. She exchanged a few words with the Chèr, then left. Merari was glad. Arcane wouldn't have wanted everybody to see her like that.

'I know you probably won't want to leave, but a few people are in the sitting room. From what I understand, they're making a prayer candle cake. I just thought you'd like to know that they're there if you need a break and... So that you know others care.'

Prayer candle cakes were a custom for when someone was on the brink of death. They could take many forms, but the main criteria was large surface area. The first had been giant cake shaped candles, though nowadays they were often comprised of multiple candles. People would write their prayers for the victim and stick them on the candle cake. Some people burned them and claimed that when it burnt, the sufferer would be freed from their suffering-either by recovery or death. Others kept it and gifted it to the person once they'd recovered.

Merari didn't leave, she wouldn't until Arcane had made a turn for the better. To her surprise, the Chèr stayed firmly rooted in a corner too. Then again, with all their puppy-like stolen glances, it was clear that he and Arcane were pining. If anything became of it, Merari would have to make it clear to the Chèr that if he ever hurt Arcane, he'd have to deal with her.

A few hours before dawn, Medea entered with two cups of tea. 'I thought-'

'Is this your idea of "ensuring the best path"?' hissed the Chèr. 'Is this part of your divine ploy?'

Medea placed the saucers on a cabinet with a clink. 'I did not know that she was going to get hurt. Gadeden didn't tell me.'

Merari kept her eyes glued to Arcane, but queried, 'Why wouldn't she?'

'Because she did it,' muttered the Chèr. 'Tell me, Medea, is your head feeling better?'

'My head never hurt.' There was an odd sharpness to her tone.

'Really? Then why did you take so long?' he probed.

'I was giving you the space you need.'

'How considerate of you,' said the Chèr. Merari couldn't understand quite what was going on between the two of them. Maybe she'd been wrong and the Chèr had some sort of messed up relationship with Medea.

'You two should get some sleep. She'll only wake up around two,' said Medea.

'I'm not sleeping until I know she's alright,' Merari stated.

'Then at least have some tea.' Medea offered them both the cups.

The Chèr took one sniff of it, then glanced over to Merari. 'Come on, let's put a prayer on the candle cake.'

Merari sighed and decided to follow him. If, no, when Arcane got the candle cake, she'd be offended if there wasn't a note from her. Besides, it wouldn't take long.

As the two of them walked past Medea, she grabbed the Chèr's arm. 'Don't do anything rash.'

'What am I supposed to do?' he sharply responded.

Merari raised an eyebrow at Medea, who shook her head dismissively. It seemed that if Merari wanted clarification on what she'd just witnessed, she'd have to find it on her own.

♤ ♤ ♤

Over the next couple of days, Merari felt like a living corpse. She produced more tears than she thought were physically possible, usually when she was alone in her chamber. Once or twice, they came out when she was with Arcane. That left her feeling worse still. Arcane needed reassurance. She didn't yet know.