Hadrian stared as Edwin did his morning routine of kissing his medallion and then doing stretches. The vampire never understood why the hedge healer did it.

Edwin, as Hadrian had expected, was a stubborn mule that needed to be dragged to bed every night. Hadrian had not been too concerned with that on the road. Edwin liked to give a good example to the children, and so he laid still during the entire time he was supposed to be asleep.

Whether he actually slept or thought of vaccines, illnesses or necromancy, was up for debate. Hadrian would wager his money that Edwin had not slept more than three hours at a session while they traveled.

Which was why, as soon as Edwin got distracted, Hadrian cast his strongest sleeping spell at his friend. A spell so strong, it could put a dragon to sleep. Or an army of halflings. Hadrian had tried both after unsuccessful heists and could attest to the success of the spell.

Now that Edwin spent time sleeping, instead of pretending, he was not such a stick in the mud. Just yesterday, he had play wrestled the children. Hadrian had, of course, joined in, on the children’s side, and they had Edwin in a headlock almost as soon as Hadrian had joined in.

Hadrian smiled at the memory and vowed to make sure Edwin got his eight hours of sleep. For someone who knew so much about medicine, Edwin was neglectful of his health.

The vampire remembered how Edwin had drunk from the pond at Bern and Leila’s, and shuddered. Did he want to die? That though made him stop. There was a little something called survivor’s guilt that had plagued Hadrian for three millennia. Was it eating at Edwin too?

Losing his wife and children must have hit Edwin like a raging bull. Did he hate himself for it? Was healing people the only reason why Edwin got up in the morning?

Because if that was the case, then Hadrian was not going to stand for it. Edwin had three children now, four, if you asked the hedge healer. Hadrian grinned at the thought. Edwin had called him a man-child often enough for the vampire to know it was the truth.

Then his face grew dark again. Oh, sure, Hadrian himself could take care of the children if something happened to Edwin. But the world would be a little dimmer without the healer. How many healers would risk their jobs and hides to heal? How many would spy on a rich family that could send assassins at them?

It must be very convenient for the king to send Edwin to do the hard work. And it was convenient for Hadrian to let Edwin claim the children as his. He stopped at that. They were alike, rogue, and king, in their misuse of Edwin Roberts.

“Do you have a toothache?” Asked Edwin suddenly, braking Hadrian out of his thought. “You look as if you are in pain. Or constipated. Please tell me pig blood does not lead to constipation.”

“You are valued,” blurted Hadrian, and then he raised a hand, so Edwin wouldn’t interrupt him. “And you have a family. So, come here and tell me why you are so bend up on your self-destruction. Because I don’t like it. It brings me pain.”

Hadrian stopped himself from saying, and it will bring me constipation. This was a serious, grown-up talk. Where Hadrian had to listen to Edwin. There would be many times and places for a talk between Harry and Eddy. But this was not one of them.

“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Edwin, a stony expression on his face. He made to move towards the door, but Hadrian leapt and blocked it. Two hands rested on Edwin’s shoulders, and Hadrian headbutted the hedge healer lightly.

“Ouch,” said Edwin dryly. His eyes were locked on the door handle, as if it could save him from having to speak with Hadrian.

“That didn’t hurt. It is just a reminder that you are alive. With me so far?” Asked Hadrian, not resisting the slight jape.

“I know I am alive. Dead necromancer become soul eating Liches, if they take the preparations for it. And I have not. Before you ask,” said Edwin. He made a step to the side and Hadrian began leading him towards the window.

“Harry…” said Edwin, not understanding what his friend was on about.

“Harry has left the building. I am Hadrian. Here to help the only friend, I have made, in the last 3050 years,” said Hadrian. Darn, but it was hard not to become Harry at that moment. Edwin’s eyes softened and he stopped resisting. They made it to the window and Hadrian opened it.

The night air hit their faces. Edwin shivered. Whatever it was because of the cold or because Hadrian was acting his age was something, he was not sure of.

“What do you see?” Asked Hadrian.

“I see the lady from the neighboring house with her children. I see the bird that wakes me ever since we got in this inn. I see…” The words hitched in Edwin’s throat. He knew what he saw, but he felt it would be better not to voice it. But Hadrian showed him no route of escape.

“You see life. You are a part of this world, Edwin Roberts. You are more alive than me, practically a zombie compared to the children thou,” Hadrian berated himself in his head. Harry was showing again. Guess his sire was right. He was good at spotting other’s hurts, but he hid behind his own.

“I miss Helena and the children,” whispered Edwin. He made to close the window, but Hadrian didn’t let him.

“That medallion. You keep their ashes inside, don’t you?” Asked Hadrian. To his credit, he kept the pity out of his voice and face. The last thing Edwin needed now was pity.

“That obvious, eh, Harry?” Asked Edwin in a weak attempt to let the conversation end. Hadrian let him because the pity he felt was chocking him, and he didn’t have any words left for Edwin.

They stood before the open window, staring into the night before them. Both lost in thought, both remembering all that they had lost. Finally, Edwin spoke.

“I’ll bury them. I had a priest say a prayer for them, but I never laid them to rest. Will you come with me, Hadrian?” Asked Edwin. Hadrian’s breath hitched. Edwin needed the support of Hadrian, not the pity of Harry. And he was going to give it. No matter the cost.

“Must you even ask? Of course, Edwin.”