A Trickle of Soulfyre

Chapter 18 - Confidant

Sleep slipped away from Nash like water from a thirsty elf's hands. Each time he settled into a comfortable position, one in which he thought rest could easily find him, fingers settled around his neck, and his lungs squeezed closed, suffocating him.

There were never any arms attached to the fingers, never any body or face either. The fingers themselves couldn't be real because every time Nash thrashed and tore himself out of their grips, he'd awake to see the guards frowning at him where they stood at the opposite side of the sitting room. Other than himself, them, and Benje, there was no one else present, unless his assailants had somehow turned themselves invisible and evaded his security.

Nash tried to tell himself that wasn't possible, but honestly, he didn't know if it was.

He was almost relieved when Benje's call crystal started flashing where it stood on the coffee table. It was like the sunlight glinting off those teardrop diamond earrings Lyrani had worn when she accompanied Nash to the fairy queen's silver jubilee four months previously. Perhaps that was why he found his fatigue-clumsy fingers tapping thrice to receive the call. He certainly wasn't in the habit of answering other people's crystals.

The guards exchanged a look where they stood at the front of the room and tightened their grips on their spears. It was almost as if they expected Nash's next threat to jump out of the call crystal, and perhaps they were right to do so.

All of Nash's fears vanished when the last face he had expected to see came up in front of him, yet it was the only face he wanted to see, with its bark brown eyes and solemn, shapely mouth.

"Lyr?" Warmth flared through Nash at the mere sight of her, but he couldn't fight a frown. He was her boyfriend. Why was she calling Benje and not him? "Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine, Nash." Though Lyrani's silky, black hair was rumpled by sleep in such a tempting way that Nash just wanted to run his fingers through it, her eyes were bright, alert. "I just got this strange sense that I should call you, but I couldn't reach you on your crystal."

Nash blinked. He hadn't seen his call crystal in days. "I must've left it behind in my apartment when I came to Benje's. Sorry, Lyr."

"There's no need to apologise, Nash. I was just worried when I couldn't get hold of you"—her voice cracked. "I thought the worst had happened." Lyrani let out a breath. "Is everything all right with you?"

Nash sighed. He cast his eyes downwards, tracing his fingertips along where the ghost of his assailant's grasp still lingered on his neck.

"Nash?"

He looked up to see Lyrani's forehead crinkle in concern.

"Is something wrong?"

The silence paralysed Nash for a moment, then he shook his head. "I was attacked in my bed tonight. I don't know who it was, but they nearly got the job done, Lyr... they might have succeeded if it wasn't for Benje and Isarea intervening when they did."

"Stars." Lyrani's eyes widened in horror. "Are you okay, Nash?"

"As okay as I can be." He looked down, squeezing his eyes closed as the world became too much for him to face. "I don't know why I keep fighting and trying to fix everything. The realm has already labelled me a tyrant, a murderer, a villain. It feels like such a pointless exercise. Like trying to roll a boulder up Fegris Mountain."

Some days, it felt like Nash couldn't withstand the force of his opposition, like it would roll over him and all the way back down to the bottom of the mountain, like it would crush everything he loved, everything he had built.

"You do this for yourself, Nash." Lyrani leaned closer, and as if she was gravity, Nash found himself being drawn to her as he mirrored her motion. "You're righting all of Rayn's wrongs because you're a good man."