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Day of Tomes, 13th of Suhin, Year 401

“This has been a hell of a day, eh,” Jack groaned.
“Yeah. Seems like it’s gone on forever,” Erin replied.
“I dunno, wasn’t all bad,” the succubus shoulder checked Erin, who blushed.

Jack kissed the dreadnought on the cheek and gave her a gentle smile, but frowned as her eyes were inexorably drawn to the grisly wound on his face.

“I’m gonna have to get an eyepatch until this is fixed, aren’t I?” he grumbled.
“Here,” Rory reached into his storage and retrieved a long, dark blue scarf, wrapping it over Jack’s eye.
“Oh, that’s a nice color,” Layla chirped.
“It’s your scarf. Hope that black stuff comes out,” Rory grinned.
“Ohhh, you dick,” she groaned.

The Watch had trundled Eckon and Branick off to the Magistrate on duty to be issued a Sanction, which was essentially a warrant for their arrest and criminal charges, all wrapped into one. Since they were already in custody, and multiple members of the guard would testify to the validity of the Sanction, it was largely a formality. Moryven was fairly meticulous about its legal formalities, though, so off to the Magistrate they went. 

The Watch also collected the segregated remains of the assassin, who turned out to be a contractor named Jarn Irevich, hired by Madpike to deal with the four in case they got rowdy. The assassin had a laundry list of suspected crimes, but the Watch had never gotten anything serious to stick. The skill that caused Rory’s gaze to slide off the killer’s features was even more effective on the average citizen of Moryven, and almost no one could describe Irevich with any reliability.

Well, they could describe him now. A head shorter, three to four stone lighter, and extremely dead.

One of the Watch’s sergeants hung back to inform the Chosen that, since their Sanction didn’t include murder or similar heinous acts, without the testimony of a victim, Madpike and Branick would be released within no more than three nights. Tilly had immediately spoken up that she would be down to the magistrate to give testimony that same day, and the sergeant visibly sighed in relief. Rory also volunteered to accompany Jack down to the justice’s offices. The sergeant thanked them and informed the Chosen that Madpike would be charged for the assassin’s assault on Jack, provided they could prove the killer was in the mobster’s employ. The veteran Watchman was openly hopeful the magistrate would consider the wound an attempt on Jack’s life, rather than simply a grievous injury. 

“Perhaps you’d consider waiting to have the wound healed until after you speak with the Magistrate?” the guard asked.
“Sure, but it’s getting late. My friends will need to sleep. We’ll be there in the morning,” Jack gave him a reassuring smile.

The Watchman thanked him again and turned to leave, then hesitated and faced Jack again.

“If you don’t mind… your lordship…” he started.
“Don’t call me that. I’m not some noble or spy from the Necropolis,” Jack’s mouth pressed into a frown.
“Certainly, Master… Jack, right?” the guard nodded.
“Yeah,” Jack nodded in return.
“If you don’t mind me asking, does the wound pain you?” he gestured vaguely.

Jack thought about it for a moment.

“No, actually. I sort of assumed that was because my Fortitude is pretty high?” he made it a question.
“Oh, to be certain, the skill helps. But even if I could survive such a wound, it would be agony, and my own Fortitude is in the third weave,” the sergeant replied.
“Guess Haley was right? About you not needing your meaty bits anymore?” Layla interjected.
“Maybe,” Jack grimaced.
“Thank you for your help, sergeant,” Rory spoke up. “My friends and I are exhausted, and I believe some rest would do us good.”
“Of course, Master Poole. Good evening to you all,” the Watchman tipped his wide-brimmed hat and made for the door.

As the sergeant left, Rory turned and took several crisp steps toward the bar, then laid a small stack of gold coins on the counter.

“This is for the cleaning, and the trouble, Tilly. We’ll understand if you’d like us to seek other accommodations,” he smiled gently.
“Are yeh shittin’ me, laddie? The way Branick bloody pissed ‘imself woulda been worth all the trouble, but now yeh’ve gone and gotten Madpike clapped in irons!” she laughed.

“If’n I were any happier, I’d give yeh the rooms fer free,” she giggled, then sobered immediately.

“But I’m nae. Yeh still have ta pay fer the rooms,” her eyes narrowed.

The Chosen laughed, tension and stress slowly evaporating. 

“So, what are we doing for dinner?” Layla asked.
“I don’t think Jack’s in any shape to cook, and I doubt Tilly will want to feed us,” Erin grimaced.
“Maybe we could order in?” Rory turned back to them.

“Nae. Yeh’ll be eatin’ here. Findam’s almost done with dinner,” she grunted.
“He’s… almost done? Has he been-” Jack’s one good eye was wide with surprise.
“Aye, cookin’ this entire time. Dinnae even know we were bein’ held up, the useless deaf old goat,” Tilly cut him off.

Tilly feasted them into a food coma and plied them with enough alcohol to sink a dingy full of hardened sailors. Jack tried a bit of everything, but Erin noted that he actually ate very little. Once they were thoroughly inebriated, gorged, and exhausted, the four made their way to their rooms, with Erin, Layla, and Rory, forcing Jack to bed first. 

“I literally do not sleep,” he complained.
“Nope, get in the bed,” Erin pushed him into their room.
“You always take care of us, hic, Tex. Time… to night night,” Layla patted him on the head and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.
“You need to rest, mate,” Rory hugged him and joined Erin in unsteadily pushing him into the room. “I’ll make sure the tart gets settled.”

Erin finally lost her patience and lifted him bodily off the ground, stumbling toward the bed with her arms around his waist.

“To…” she grunted.

“Bed…” she fell with him, onto the mattress.

They lay there together for a few minutes before Jack finally took a breath.

“You know, actually, this is really nice,” he smiled and closed his good eye.
“Mmm. Yeahhh,” she sighed. “Feel nekkid without my arm’r, tho.”
“Should be ready tomorrow,” he snuggled closer to her.

“So… about that threesome?” Layla lilted..

Jack’s eye snapped open, finding Layla leaned against the door jamb, a loopy, inebriated smile on her face. She gave him an exaggerated wink.

“Like a dog with a bone,” he grunted.
“Mmm, bone,” she stared at his breeches.

Erin’s thick snore rumbled into the silence. Jack and Layla’s eyes snapped toward her, then back to each other, where they stifled a laugh at the nearly identical incredulous looks.

“I don’t think tonight’s your night, El,” he smiled at the succubus.
“Hope springs eternal, Jackson. Ask her about the kiss when she wakes up,” Layla licked her lips and winked at the nightbringer.

She grabbed the door handle and began to close it, then stopped.

“If your eye isn’t better tomorrow, we can see if I can help. If you want,” she smiled.
“You just want to make out,” he chuckled.
“Absolutely, Tex. Night,” she started to pull the door closed again.
“Layla?” he called.
“Yeah?” she turned back to him again.
“Thank you,” his expression was dark and serious.
“You’re welcome, Jack,” she blew him a kiss. “See you in the morning.”

She shut the door, then he heard her giggle in the hallway.

“Unless you get bored and decide you wanna give me the twenty-one-tentacle-tickle,” she called through the door and skipped down the hallway without waiting for his reply.

“Hopeless,” he grunted, then snuggled closer to Erin and let his eye drift closed.

-----

Jack opened his eyes to a twilight sky, the distant sparkling cerulean lights of the world tree’s branches in the distance. The next thing he noticed was that he could see out of both eyes.

“JACKSON AVERY HOLT.”

Jack sensed the enormous presence of the Nightfather behind him, didn’t turn around, instead watching the gentle play of light across Ilani’s leaves and branches.

“Hey, big guy. What’s up?” he smiled.

“I AM… PLEASED… YOU ENDURE.”

“Me too,” he grinned, finally turning to face the mountainous serpent. “Thanks for looking out for the others while I was… knocked out, I guess?”

“THE UNDEAD CANNOT ORDINARILY ENJOY THE PEACE OF SLUMBER, EVEN WHEN IT WOULD BE A MERCY.”

“Oh, what happened then?” he quirked an eyebrow.

“THE SECOND BREATH.”

“I was dead?” his eyes widened.

“THE WILL TO PERSIST BEYOND THE MOMENT OF DEATH IS NOT SO SIMPLY EXPLAINED.”

“Did you save me?” he asked.

“AFTER A FASHION. IN THE FUTURE, YOU WILL BE ABLE TO CAST SOME MAGICS IN AN INSTANT, WITHOUT INVOCATION. I SIMPLY USED SUCH AN ABILITY TO GALVANIZE YOUR FLESH.”

“Neat. How’d you do that, when I don’t have the… skills, I guess?” he smiled up at the giant snake.

“I AM HE WHO WROUGHT THE NIGHT.”

The great serpent seemed somehow to shrug. Jack laughed at the gesture.

“Got it. So, did… you… need me to do something?” the nightbringer looked around the hill that surmounted the vast plains, surrounded by primeval forests on every side.

“YOU ARE GENEROUS OF SPIRIT, JACKSON AVERY HOLT. YOU TEND TO YOUR COMPANIONS UNDER THE NIGHT SKY, NEVER LAMENTING OR CURSING THAT WHICH YOU HAVE LOST. THIS PLACE IS BOTH REAL AND A DREAM. UNDER THIS SKY, YOU MAY REST, WHILE YOUR BODY LIES IN TORPOR.”

“Oh… so… you did all this so I could take a nap?” Jack smiled at the serpent.

The great snake’s titanic eye shifted, looking down the hill, his gaze remaining there until Jack’s naturally followed.

At the foot of the hill, Erin stood in a flowing dress that shimmered like the night sky, filled with twinkling stars. She grinned up at him, standing atop the hill. 

“GO TO YOUR LOVER, AND KNOW PEACE WHILE I CAN PROVIDE ITS EMBRACE. WHEN YOU REACH THE FOURTH WEAVE, I WILL ENSURE YOU RECEIVE A SPELL TO REPAIR YOUR FLESH FROM SUCH WOUNDS YOU MIGHT ENDURE IN THE FUTURE.”

“I dunno what to say, big guy…” Jack stared down the hill, watching Erin wait patiently for him.

“YOU ARE THE FIRST OF MY CHOSEN THAT HAS ELECTED TO BE BAPTISED IN DARKNESS. I SENSE A SNARL IN THE BRANCHES OF FATE ON THE HORIZON, AND I FEAR FOR YOU ALL. MY BELOVED CANNOT YET SEE BEYOND THE SHADOW OF WHAT COULD-BE, BUT WE BOTH WOULD SEE YOU SAFE.”

“Really? The first?” he turned back to face the god of darkness.

“YOUR WORLD IS THE NEAREST AMONG THE SEA-THAT-IS-NOT, THE EASIEST TO REACH IN MY STATE. BUT ITS SOULS FEAR THE TOUCH OF THE DARK.”

“I… I’ll try to do a good job,” Jackson swallowed.

“OF THAT, JACK, I HAVE NO DOUBT.”

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