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Exhaustion dragged at his bones, weighed heavy along hunched shoulders, and for the briefest moment, he thought that if he tipped forward he might simply manage to sink into the earth itself.
Caleb had gotten used to a certain level of tiredness, a weariness that clung to him like his coat and that he wore with the same familiarity as his amulet. He’d make a liar of himself to claim he didn’t always sleep with one eye open, awakening at what seemed to be the slightest shift in the air.
Even with Nott, with the Nein…
A foolish part of him wanted to relax, wanted to… trust…
That was a dangerous, deadly game. And last time he’d played, well… A shiver ran down his spine at the thought.
But at the moment…
He was used to being tired, but this was more. He supposed that happened, between his overuse of magic and then… telling everyone about himself. Not… Not everything, no, plenty of details he hadn’t dared to utter, hadn’t had the will to dig into those wounds alongside all the others.
But it had been enough. Enough to paint the whole story, to coat his hands in crimson and burns once again, to make them see what he was. He had given the details he had to, from his innocent parents to the way he’d ensured their fates at his own hands…
He wasn’t sure why they allowed him to stay, knowing what he’d done. Knowing what he’d told them.
Nott had even, in the silence that followed his words finally petering out into the hollowed, horrified quiet of his companions, steered him back to bed, curled up at his side and urging him to sleep.
To rest.
If only he could.
His childhood home, his parents and his cat, flashed before his eyes each time he tried to follow the instructions, flashes of flames and burning that felt like nightmares but belonged to his reality.
Gods…
He-
“I figured you’d be sleeping.”
Caleb jerked, one hand starting to come up before his mind finally registered the smooth voice and he froze, arm still half-raised and traitorous.
Mollymauk’s tail flicked, red eyes flicking over Caleb and looking entirely unbothered. A little like before they knew. Before the tiefling had been allowed to see how wretched-
“Caleb?”
Fuck, right…
Caleb could feel his jaw work for a long moment. “Couldn’t sleep,” he finally managed.
He expected questions, or to be told to go rest regardless, or…
Something.
Anything.
He didn’t know anymore.
None of these people acted how he expected.
Had anyone ever though? Trent Ikithon used him, Astrid and Wulf-
“Well, they say that two’s company.”
Caleb blinked hard, staring and…
Mollymauk smiled. “I’m on watch ‘til dawn. I wouldn’t mind company, even if it’s quiet.” They offered a hand.
Caleb stared, fingers twitching. He… He wanted to…
At least then, he wouldn’t be alone with his thoughts. With the memories.
He glanced up at Mollymauk’s eyes once more, rubies glinting in the moonlight creeping into this little rundown place. His shoulders hunched impossibly further, tucking his hands to his chest.
“I’d rather be alone.” A lie that was ash on his tongue.
Mollymauk’s expression pinched even as his hand dropped, and he seemed to hesitate for a moment before he nodded. “Very well. If you change your mind, I’ll be just outside.”
Caleb watched the tiefling go, fighting the urge to call out or rise to his feet.
It was for the better, he reminded himself as he closed his eyes and was greeted by the image of the fire once more. A shudder ran through his body, eyes stinging.
This was better.
They didn’t necessarily have to, but it was a precaution to take a longer path back to Zadash after a long day spent acquiring Nydas’ Arcane Compass. One that required camping overnight.
It was a longer trip and less direct path, but it meant they would be less likely to run into any Empire soldiers that might still be lurking about.
Caleb, for one, was all for that.
And yet, as the sun set and the party settled, he found himself restless.
Of course, he wanted to blame it on his bare neck. He’d gotten so used to the weight of his amulet, to the protection it brought against Scrying and similar tracking and detection spells, that to be without it…
His skin crawled, prickling with discomfort. With the knowledge that someone could find him and if they did-
For a moment, his breath caught at the terror just the thought brought to him.
Jester laughed, a muffled thing as she tried to wind down to sleep, and Caleb managed a proper inhale.
Nothing had happened.
Yet, a vicious voice hissed.
So, yes, undoubtedly, a large part of his current problem was the amulet.
But…
His mind flicked to Beauregard, to their… words. Exchange.
The distrust, the…
The start of trust? An attempt at it?
…Did he even remember how to trust?
She was right not to trust him.
Her contact was right to tell her not to.
Look at what happened around him! His parents, his partners… Even Owelia…
Hells, he’d almost killed Beauregard just to try and get his answers! He’d assumed, of course, that she’d catch herself, reasoned from her abilities that she could’ve pulled herself up easily enough. But how easily she could’ve slipped, how easily she could’ve flailed but missed the platform-
His breath stuttered again as it dawned on him, fully and truly, that despite his mental calculations and belief to the contrary at the time, he’d been ready to kill her just to sate his own paranoia. Hadn’t even bothered to consider that as a risk, and he…
Was it because he trusted her? Or had he not cared in that moment?
He-
He wanted to care…
He did care, didn’t he?
But with Fjord earlier, he’d been ready for a fight, bracing for one in order to protect Nott…
He-
Fuck, he couldn’t breathe!
“Caleb?”
He flinched, curling in on himself.
Never one to be easily deterred, Mollymauk stepped closer. “Caleb, focus on the cards,” the tiefling murmured as he drew out his tarot deck, starting to shuffle them.
Caleb forced his gaze to the cards, though it was only a few moments before they drifted to the person holding them instead.
Mollymauk had been so patient, had stood in quiet support of all of them…
Gods, and Caleb couldn’t even say for certain he’d trust the tiefling!
He wanted to, he wanted to…
“Cards, dearest. Not me, not the world, just the cards. I’ll make sure you know if there’s anythin’ else for you to worry about.” Mollymauk’s voice was soft, like a stream running through quiet woods.
Like the rustle of the wheat in the fields.
Caleb pushed his attention back to the cards, to the careful movement as they were shuffled and shifted and shuffled again.
They could’ve sat there like that for minutes, or hours, even days…
When the shuffling finally stopped, Caleb let his gaze flick back to Mollymauk’s eyes.
“There we go,” Mollymauk murmured, quiet pride in their voice as their tail flicked. Gentle as autumn rain, as promising and warm as the morning sun… “Want to talk about that?”
Caleb recoiled, shaking his head. “Nein.”
“Alright.” Never pushing, never demanding. “If you change your mind, you know where to find me."
“Ja.” Even as he confirmed though, Caleb hauled himself to his feet and turned towards the sleeping bag he’d thrown down earlier.
Mollymauk was… so bright. So good. Was taking care of the entire group.
And Caleb had almost killed two of them today, out of recklessness. Out of paranoia.
It was better that he kept his distance, he thought, even as the renewed thoughts made his hands and breath tremble.
It was better this way, kept away from others.
Caleb watched as the party split.
Piece by piece.
The little thing they’d been building, the haven trembling just out of reach of his ash-stained fingers, crumbled before his eyes.
First Beauregard, ever the lone wolf. Defiant until her last, chasing the shadow of someone likely already gone.
He couldn’t blame her. He just had nothing left to be defiant for.
Then Fjord and Jester, the group’s sword and heart. Their journey done, no reason left to stay when they had lives waiting for them elsewhere.
He couldn’t blame them. There had been a time, once, when he’d yearned for a home too.
For a moment, frowning after the colorful duo, Caleb could almost ignore the ache in his own chest and eyes, could ignore the urge to call them back. To grab on with selfish hands and keep them close.
At least, he mused even though it felt horrid to, Mollymauk would stay. He, like Caleb and Nott, had nowhere else to go. No one waiting for him, no one to find…
He’d stay… The three of them would manage together. They’d-
“Well, I suppose three’s a crowd.”
Caleb knew he responded. A tease about their old lives and their old names, followed by that same gentle dismissal Mollymauk had afforded Caleb’s confessions since the moment the truth had settled. A quip about leaving the past behind.
A carnival, a festival, was the perfect place for a Mollymauk Tealeaf.
Caleb’s jaw ached with how tightly he clenched it, refusing to call out. To call him back. To beg him not to go too.
Mollymauk deserved a nice life, the life of a performer rather than a fugitive or adventurer.
He deserved far more than Caleb could ever begin to offer.
“We were just starting to get to know them,” Nott mourned.
Ash laid heavy on Caleb’s tongue. “We do not know them. At all. Come, let us get off the street.”
He turned, mind twisting, thoughts tumbling. Jumping from plan to plan, idea to idea…
His chest threatened to cave with each breath, sparks licking up the back of his throat as smoke filled his lungs with each word Nott offered in the little inn room they found for themselves.
The others were smart enough to leave, why wasn’t she?
“Why are you here, Nott?!” It’s a snarl as much as it was a hidden plea.
Because he didn’t get it.
There was nothing he could give. Nothing he could offer or do that would ever come close to being enough.
That would ever change what he was.
“I thought it was obvious!” So many things in his life had been obvious.
He gasped as her arms came around him, as she forced him to face her.
“Because we’re friends,” she informed him, like it was an obvious, foregone conclusion even after the other members of the Nein left. “Before I met you, I was just lookin’ for a ditch to die in. But, well, I guess I haven’t been looking for ditches since that pet shop.”
Something in him, he was certain, shuddered and broke, shattering like glass.
“You’ve done that for me, Caleb. So I’m here for you.”
He wanted.
Gods, how he wanted, like a drowning man craved air.
He wondered if she could tell how badly he wished he could return the sentiment, how he’d carve new scars and burns across his skin if she asked him to, how he’d use himself as the pyre to keep her safe…
And that was the very reason he couldn’t stay.
The very reason he broke eye contact so that she couldn’t see his eyes mist over, so that she couldn’t use those keen eyes to pick him apart and find every cut dragged along his soul.
All he had ever brought was destruction, was ruin to those who got too close.
“Very well. I will need a few items.”
It was for the better that he left, that he freed the others before they were burned.
It was for the better that he ran.
Caleb… wasn’t entirely sure why he went back to the inn. Back to Nott.
He just knew he’d been ready to run, to say fuck it and do what he was best at.
He was even less certain why she took him back. Why the rest of the Nein had gathered in his absence.
Why Jester rushed to hug him. Why Beauregard and Fjord smiled at him.
Why Mollymauk tilted their head, smile warm and just the slightest bit playful as those red, red eyes glinted in quiet challenge, daring him to refuse.
He hadn’t, but as the evening loomed closer and they tipped from preparations to simply waiting for their moment…
Caleb wished he had, his heartbeat loud and painful in his ears.
Beauregard and Fjord, for most of the mission, would be in the most danger. They’d be inside, where Trent and Astrid and Wulf would be.
Any and all of those three would kill the duo just for being associated with him. Would torture them first to find out all they knew.
Up until the point she entered the study properly, Nott would be the safest. The sewers were far from sanitary, but the worst she’d find would be rats if she was unlucky.
And if they’ve trapped it? He shuddered at the horrid thought.
Jester’s job was risky, but she would overall be safely away from any manner of central conflict.
So long as she didn’t fall, she would be fine.
Mollymauk…
Mollymauk’s role was the hardest to gauge. If all went well, he would be safe, playing an act and well away from the danger. If things went poorly…
He was a skilled fighter, but how many guards would he be able to take on before his body gave out?
And gods, if Trent so much as caught a hint of any of them… If Wulf got his hands on them…
Caleb knew the techniques to make someone talk, knew in intimate detail exactly what would be done at the hands of a Volstrucker.
He jumped when a hand brushed his shoulder, gaze snapping around as he recoiled.
“Easy now, it’s only me.” Mollymauk held up his hands.
Caleb’s heart roared in his ears, so easily conjuring the images of lessons on torture overlaid over Mollymauk’s form.
Fuck, fuck, fuck, he-
“Eyes on the cards.”
Caleb was listening before he even registered it, following an order given in a feather-soft murmur before Mollymauk had even fully pulled out his deck to start shuffling the cards.
“That’s it, nothin’ to worry about for now but the cards.”
There was so much to worry about. So much that could go wrong.
And yet, Caleb forced himself to focus. To watch the way the cards shifted in Mollymauk’s hands. To listen to the soft sound of them flapping and sliding against one another.
Shuffle, shift, shuffle.
Again and again.
“Dank- Thank you,” Caleb finally managed as the other conversations in the room returned to his ears.
“Of course.” Soft eyes regarded him for a long moment. “If you would like, we could step away for a minute. I’m-”
“Nein.” He shook his head. “I just need to get my head on. I won’t mess this up, don’t worry.” He turned, retreating.
“Not what I was worried about,” Mollymauk muttered behind him.
Caleb hunched his shoulders.
Mollymauk had better things to worry about than him, more important things to focus on.
It was better if the others kept their distance, better that he didn’t get too close. He’d only ruin them too.
Caleb was certain he hadn’t taken a full breath since the mission started, could feel his hands shaking even as they regrouped in the same abandoned building they’d used for planning and prepping.
His gaze wouldn’t stop moving, darting from person to person.
Fjord was roughed up, still clearly shaken from whatever had happened in the sewers even as Jester fussed over him, her own cuts cleaned by the half-orc and long-since bandaged.
Beauregard was hovering over their… newest companion? Prisoner? Caleb still wasn’t sure, but the monk seemed to have the other woman, Yasha, handled for the moment.
Nott wouldn’t look at him, and he didn’t blame her.
She’d called him a traitor, and as much as he loathed it, she was right. He’d faltered, would’ve listened to Trent’s honeyed words if that explosion hadn’t interrupted them, hadn’t reminded him of who was really important in the present rather than the past.
Mollymauk was hurt too, and that was without even thinking about how he’d been when the rest of the Nein reunited with him.
And fuck, that was Caleb’s fault too. Most of the injuries were.
Because he’d been stubborn and refused to stand down. Because he would have rather fought and gotten them all killed than let the artifact get away.
He had been ready to raze the sewers, snuff himself and the Kryn out in a blaze just to make sure the others got away. Maybe make some semblance of penance for all he’d done wrong on his way out.
“Look, I know we need to deal with Yasha and the thingy, but can we address the other elephant in the room?” Nott finally demanded, breaking from her agitated silence.
Caleb froze. Jester’s fussing paused as Mollymauk turned from his cards.
“Nott-” Caleb’s voice rasped over the syllable, to beg forgiveness or quiet he wasn’t sure.
“You almost betrayed us!” Nott cut him off, something vicious and hurt to it.
He deserved it. Deserved the way Jester gasped in shock and Beauregard’s eyes widened. Deserved the way his hands shook and his heartbeat roared.
“Caleb?” Beauregard murmured, something close to disbelief despite how she’d once been so eager to find the fault in his story, the crack in his facade.
He had failed. Failed her. Failed Mollymauk. He had faltered when they needed him. He should’ve burnt down that entire damn building to take out Trent Ikithon and instead he’d hesitated, frozen, listened.
He deserved their hate. To be alone again.
“I-” His throat constricted, gaze darting around like it might provide answers. Mercy he didn’t deserve.
“Now, let’s not be hasty with any accusations,” Mollymauk broke in, always the peacekeeper. The one putting faith in them all.
Faith Caleb didn’t deserve.
“I saw it!” Nott hissed. “Or are you going to say I’m lying?” Hurt gold eyes flicked to Caleb once more.
He remembered Jester hugging him as he returned, Mollymauk’s gentle words coaxing him through panic without demanding explanation, Beauregard’s smile and Fjord’s quiet support… Nott’s fierce loyalty and affection…
He’d never deserved any of it.
He was always going to fuck it up. He was always going to hurt them.
“Nott! We don’t think you’d lie! But maybe you just didn’t see right!” Jester piped up.
“I know what I saw! He was standing down! He w-”
“Caleb wouldn’t!” Beauregard shouted.
Caleb’s breath hurt his lungs as the cacophony rose around him, denials and accusations in equal measure.
“Genug,” he rasped, not that anyone would even hear it, lost to the roar.
He just loved disappointing people, didn’t he?
Shouldn’t he have known by now he was always going to end up alone? Fucked over by himself?
“You weren’t there, Beau! Or you, Jester!”
“C’mon, let’s all take it down a notch,” Fjord tried to reason. “I’m sure he had a reason-”
“No! You’re not getting it!”
“Why would he help Trent?!”
“Genug!” The word tore at his throat, but somehow rose high enough to actually cut through the noise. To make the world go painfully silent other than for his own gasps and heartbeat.
“Caleb…” Jester practically whimpered.
He forced another breath into his lungs, forced his expression into a blank stare. Curled his hands to fists so that they couldn’t see how he was shaking like a wet leaf.
Forced his gaze up from the floor until he found those accusing gold eyes again.
He deserved this.
He. Deserved. This.
His eyes burned.
He hated this. He hated this. He hated this.
“Nott, you are right. I hesitated, stood down. Betrayed you all. I listened to him.” Again. Why had he listened again? Why…
Why had he ruined this for himself? He finally had something, something good, and he’d ruined it again. Ruined himself for Trent Ikithon.
“See!” Nott crowed, “He admits it!”
Caleb recoiled.
“Caleb…” Beau’s voice was soft, hurt.
“No…” Jester whined. “No, you wouldn’t!”
“But I did!” Caleb whirled on her, breath shuddering out, coat flaring, eyes burning.
He was fire. A spark.
He was never going to do anything but burn them.
Jester whimpered, Fjord stepping in front of her.
For half a moment, Caleb wished the half-orc would follow through on the silent threat and attack him. End this charade, this dance…
Put him down like a rabid dog before he bit someone again.
“Bullshit! Caleb, what the hell are you playing at?!” Beau snarled.
He snapped around to face her. “Don’t play the fool, Beauregard! You’ve always known what I am! Why are you shocked now?!”
He wanted to cry.
He wanted to scream until his lungs gave out.
He finally glanced towards Molly, watching the entire scene with a look so carefully blank and controlled that Caleb was certain hatred would’ve hurt less.
Caleb was a weapon. A tool. A disgrace. A failure.
He wanted to cry, beg forgiveness, beg for another chance…
He didn’t deserve any of it. They’d already given him so much more than he deserved.
“Don’t fuck with me!” Beau snarled.
He flinched.
“Let’s all just take a minute.”
He needed to go. He’d done enough harm.
He couldn’t stay, not now. Not after he’d betrayed them.
It was barely a thought, bringing his hands up and muttering half-familiar words.
“Caleb, don’t-!” Molly started.
“What are you doing?!” Beau demanded just as fog erupted through the room.
Caleb turned on his heel and did the one thing he was actually good at, good for. He ran.
They’d be better off without him. Safer, happier.
Even as his chest caved in, as regret wound through his veins like poison, he knew this was for the better.
Caleb wasn’t actually certain how long he was running or how far he went. He just knew that by the time he stopped, his lungs and legs were both burning, breath coming in gasps more from exertion than emotion.
It was old instinct to navigate the city, even after years away. Easy enough to slide unnoticed through quiet streets.
He… didn’t have a plan. He supposed, when dawn came, he should find a crowd and slip out of the city. Get as far away from Zadash as he could once more.
Hide away, as he had for so long.
Gods, he was so tired.
He glanced around as his steps paused, one of the city’s many walls looming over him, dark and unused. They didn’t really bother patrolling the entire border by wall, not that many would be bold enough to attack a city known for its magic users anyway.
Better up there than down on the ground where he could be spotted, he figured, forcing his tired muscles to move once more, scrambling up the old cobblestones and inlaid bricks until he could pull himself up on the wall properly.
From there, with the same grace as a puppet that’s strings had been cut, he let himself half-roll and half-flop onto the area once used and still relatively available as a walkway, staring up at the stars that continued to twinkle across their navy landscape like dying embers in a fire pit.
It was accurate enough, if one were to ask him.
That’s all that was left of him, wasn’t it? All that was left of Bren.
Trent Ikithon’s Little Spark, a flame coaxed to life and honed into an inferno.
Doused by reality, by loss…
Ashes still trying to find life in a world where he had no place, flinching from everything and clinging on with his soot-covered hands in the same breaths.
It was… just about what would snuff him out, when those final sparks would finally fade out.
For a moment, he forgot that was what awaited him. Had dared to think he could instead become a fire not to burn but to warm.
Had dared believe he could be more than all he’d been made to be.
Such a foolish thought.
He stirred, just slightly, at the sound of soft steps on stone, not even able to move before they were dropping down by him.
“I was hoping you’d come somewhere like this.” Molly’s voice was soft, and Caleb let himself imagine the picture they must make. With a glance, he confirmed the tiefling had laid down so that their heads were only a few inches apart, ruby gaze fixed skywards.
Caleb let his own gaze move back to the stars. “You shouldn’t be here,” he murmured.
“Neither should you.”
The wizard snorted, a harsh sound that tore at his throat. “Don’t worry, I’ll be gone in the morning.”
Molly was quiet for a long moment. “I’d prefer if you weren’t,” he finally murmured.
It earned a soft scoff, disbelief tangling with another pang that went through Caleb’s chest. “Do not lie to me. I betrayed you.”
“You and Nott keep saying that, but I have yet to see the proof.”
Caleb barked out a laugh. “Proof?! How do you need proof of something I’m admitting to?!”
“Fine, not proof then, just your version. Your story, in your own words.” Molly’s voice dipped, softening impossibly further. “I heard you out before. Let me listen to you again.”
A request.
It was always a request with Molly. The tiefling never demanded anything of him, never pressed or pushed.
Just offered, requested.
Caleb turned his head just enough to study Molly from the corner of his eye, the tiefling’s expression almost relaxed except for the slight pinch to his eyes that betrayed worry even as he kept his gaze on the stars.
The human wanted to argue, wanted to stay quiet, send the tiefling away.
Send them somewhere safe, far from his ash-stained hands and greedy embers.
But… beyond all of that, he was… tired. So tired…
And, perhaps, Molly would leave anyway, just as he had before. Perhaps he just needed to know the reason, like a final guilty plea at trial.
Caleb swallowed, dragging his gaze back to the sky so far above. To those dancing lights woven into countless patterns.
“He was… experimenting with the artifact, apparently. Or at least learning of it, somehow,” the wizard started, uncertain and more addressing the night than the man beside him. “I shouldn’t have let him say a word, but I… hesitated. He’s… He’s a powerful mage, far more powerful than me.” Or was that just what he’d been trained to think too? That Trent Ikithon was unbeatable, damn near untouchable?
He didn’t know anymore.
“He wanted me to come back, to… return to his side. He… promised that if I did, he knew a way I could undo the past.” Caleb trailed there, trying to bite back the burn in his eyes and the hysterical laugh bubbling in the back of his throat at the thought.
Even if there was a grain of truth to it, Trent Ikithon would have used it as nothing more than a chain around his neck.
“He promised you your parents,” Molly realized softly.
Caleb lost his battle then, a noise ripping from him that was somehow both a laugh and a sob. “And I was enough of a fool to listen.” He let his head fall sideways, meeting the red eyes that had already been fixed on him through the blur of tears. “I could have gotten Nott killed for a man who lies for a living.”
Molly hummed, as if he was considering the information. “But in the end, you chose her. Chose us.”
“That’s not the point! I-”
“No, that’s not your point. My point is, in fact, that I’d rather have you by my side than pretty much anyone else.” That little smile was back, softening the tiefling’s features and making his ruby eyes almost seem to glow. “So what if you made a mistake? You’re still here, aren’t you? The way I see it, that’s a lot more important than a lot of ‘almosts’ and ‘what ifs’. We could fill an ocean with those and still not be satisfied.”
Caleb swallowed. “I can’t promise I won’t mess up again. I’m not…” He laughed, a quiet, bitter thing. “I am broken, Molly. I do not know what you see in me.”
“I see plenty, and a lot more good than bad.” The wizard let out a soft, disbelieving noise. “You don’t have to do this alone, my dear. Burdens are far easier shared.” Molly paused, almost hesitating, before they oh-so carefully moved to hold their hand in the scant space between theirs and Caleb’s faces, palm up and open. “Let me help you carry yours.”
Caleb stared, feeling like his throat was closing.
And by the gods, he wanted to reach out.
He wanted, had wanted since the first time Molly had offered that hand.
“What if I hurt you?”
Because he so often hurt anyone that got close.
He was fire, a spark… He didn’t think he could take burning someone so precious to him again.
“You won’t, but it’s a risk I’m willing to take.” Molly’s fangs glinted as his smile widened. “If you’re willing, that is.”
Caleb took a quiet breath, then slowly brought his own hand up, letting it rest over Molly’s, letting the tiefling curl their fingers around his. “Ja,” he murmured, watching the way Molly rubbed a circle on the back of his hand for a long moment before he dragged his gaze back to the other’s face. “I’m… willing.”
There was a part of him already wondering what the hell he was doing, howling against letting someone so good so close to him, but…
He wanted. He wanted like he needed air to breathe, a desperate, greedy thing.
He swallowed. “What about the others? They will not-”
Molly chuckled, squeezing his hand as he slowly moved to get up. “I think you’ll find them far happier about your return than you expect. Jester was nearly beside herself when you ran out, and Beau’s angry at just about everything that happened with that conversation. Nott’s particularly upset, and not just because of the mission, and Fjord wasn’t sure what to do with himself. I’m just the lucky one that started running second.” The tiefling’s tail flicked. “I’m afraid you might be quite stuck with all of us.”
Caleb managed a soft, amused huff of his own, holding onto Molly’s hand and letting the tiefling help pull him to his own feet. “I think I’ll manage,” he mused.
He wanted to be, and maybe… just maybe he was allowed to have. Even if he didn’t deserve it.
“Good, now… Interestin’ part is getting down from here.”
Caleb laughed as he moved to the edge, already picking out a route back down to the ground as he glanced at Molly. “How in the world did you even find me here?”
Molly smiled, a quiet, bashful thing. “You mentioned once that you used to go out and stargaze. I figured if we’d already retraced so many steps of yours tonight, you might have fallen back into old habits. You like the quiet, and you were trying to get away, and this was the best view of the stars that got you away and somewhere quiet.”
Caleb stared, mouth falling open in surprise. Molly dropped his hand to start their climb down the wall, and it was only the tiefling disappearing downward that shook Caleb from his stupor, a smile tugging on his lips.
He’d mentioned that, rather offhandedly even, on a late night watch when Molly had caught him looking skywards rather than towards the horizon.
Perhaps, just maybe, it wouldn’t be so bad to let someone in…
Maybe, he could have this, have something good…
“Coming, Magic Man?”
“Ja!”