No one is really sure how she did it, but Lilian, that sweet angel, had somehow managed to convince Tanitha to stay in Yukos. Vahkul grins, his heart light for the first time in years. “Really? She said that?” Lilian nods, her own smile growing to match his.

“Yep! Tans said that so long as you’re here, she’ll stay. But the moment you’re ready to leave, she’ll be packing her bag.” That definitely sounds like her. The corners of his mouth drop just a little. “What is it? Isn’t this good?” Lilian’s hand rests on his arm in a way that’s meant to console.

She’s right, this is a good moment. So, why does it feel wrong? He swallows and Lilian strokes his arm. “I... I owe her something. Do you know where she is?” He pulls at the arm of his tunic, accidentally pulling a thread loose. He’s eager to see the woman again. He wants to make things right with her. He can’t stand the thought of her glowering at him every time they step into the same room.

Lilian’s fingers pause, her eyes diverting for a moment. “Actually, she’s sleeping off her anger. I think it would be best to leave her for the night.” Maybe he should. He doesn’t know if he’s fit enough to take angry punches from the woman, they’re sure to be brutal. Vahkul nods. “Alright. I’ll come by tomorrow, okay? Sleep well.” Lilian pulls him into a tight and unexpected hug. Then she turns to leave.

Vahkul knows that if he’s left to his own devices, his mind will run his body into the ground. He needs to find something to occupy his time with while he waits. Looking around, he spots exactly what he’s searching for. Walking up to the hospital work wall, he writes his name in for the remainder of the day. With the healing center still full, he’s sure that no one will mind the extra hands. Someone walks up next to him and writes their name in as well.

He watches the woman’s hand twirl as the curly foreign script unfolds. He can’t even begin to read that. “It’s Raelle,” The woman next to him laughs. She says something again, in that language that everyone here seems to speak. His confusion must show clearly on his face, because she laughs and attempts to speak the language that he does understand. “Nice to meet, Tracol.”

She butchers his name so badly that he didn’t really know she was saying it until he thought about it. She must not be able to read the common tongue that well either. She sticks out her hand, and he takes it into a firm shake. “It’s Vah-kul.” He responds.

The woman nods, her smile growing as she turns, taking her blond braids into her hands and tucking them into a bun. Then she walks away, a little tune sweeping out from between her teeth. Vahkul’s grin returns. With a hop in his step, he begins doing his assigned rounds.

Almost a week passes before Vahkul sees Tanitha again, but he was so busy working and living that he doesn’t take notice. It’s only when he’s finishing up his last round of the day, and the emptiness of the night has begun to settle that he sees her figure appear. She, Lilian, and Dafiel glide through the door of the center like they’re royalty, all of their aura's growing to fill the empty space in the room. His eyes roll.

Tanitha is in her usual ensemble, but there seems to be another layer of shadows cloaking her tonight, making her normal dark clothing look just a tad more sinister than usual. Vahkul finishes checking on the last person on his roll. He hands her his patented tea so that she might sleep well tonight. He’s thanked, and his heart flutters. There's something inherently satisfying about having earned another’s gratitude.

It's almost as if they've devoted a piece of themself to you.

He gives a nod in the direction of the visitors before he heads to one of the backrooms to change. His gloves come off and are tossed into the laundry basket, and his robe is hung up on a rack, still usable for another day or two. “Goodnight Fringra. Say hello to the little ones for me.”

The laundress gives him a warm smile before returning to sorting clothes. He has a sneaking suspicion that she doesn’t understand a word he speaks to her, but he's still grateful for her courtesy.

Since that was the last thing he had to do, he’s off. Vahkul vaguely remembers agreeing to have dinner with Lilian as opposed to his normal midnight snack and nap. Though his skin hangs tiredly off of his bones, he puts on his usual happy and encouraging mask as he rounds the corner and greets his guests.

“Had I known that more people were coming, I might have dressed slightly better,” Is his greeting to Lilian. She pulls him in for his usual hug and places a loud kiss on his cheek, careful not to scrape him with her teeth. The druid reddens a little.

Tanitha's brows furrow as a sneer transforms her expression. “Please, traitor and oath-breaker looks just fine on you, beetle.” He can’t say that he expected anything different from her. Their time in the cave had shown him what a petty and conniving person she could be. Though Lilian had somehow convinced Tanitha to stay, Vahkul knows that the woman’s pride must be hurting. And she has every right to feel this way.

A deal was made, and he broke it. He had been meaning to try to come up with a way to pay her back, and thinking, he may have figured out how.

So instead of snapping back at her, he gives a close-lipped smile. Vahkul nods his head towards Dafiel in acknowledgment, and receives a snort in return. Certainly nothing new there. Dafiel had taken an immediate disliking to him once he realized that he had broken a promise. The Onesian man was raised on the principle of honor and ate oath-breakers for breakfast. “So,” Vahkul starts, rolling up the sleeves of his tunic. “Where and what are we eating tonight?”

They all follow Lilian down the spiraling steps that wrap around the base of the great tree the hospital rests in. Each step creeks and moans louder than the last, but onesian architecture is surprisingly sturdy given how simplistic it is. “Well, I actually cooked for everyone. I figured since we haven’t all hung out before, tonight would be a good start.” Leave it to Lilian to turn dinner into a session meant to create life long friends. Vahkul doesn’t want to be the barer of bad news, but he doesn’t think this will turn out the way she hopes.

“Will there be alcohol?” Tanitha asks, her hands swinging tensely at her sides. Dafiel snorts, but when Lilian gives a positive response, Tanitha sends a playful punch aimed at his side, as if to say ‘see it was a good question’. The strange tension is momentairly released from the muscles of her face. Dafiel dodges, but is too busy gloating to see her other hand coming.

He’s knocked in the side of his head so hard that his feet forget to stay the course, and he goes tumbling. Tanitha lets out a booming laugh that startles them and the forest itself. The arms of the trees surrounding them rustle and the twitching of forest insects pauses. Lilian herself even has a small misstep in response to the abrupt noise. Dafiel is quick to join in the laughter. Once the man finds his footing, the two continue taking swats at each other as they march to Lilian’s home and business.

Lilian’s home is one of the few buildings that isn’t located in the trees. She told Vahkul that it was because it was recently built just for her. He could see the sense of pride swelling up in her chest as she did. As she opens her door, Vahkul notices that the counter that’s typically open for customers has been covered with a wooden plank.

The place is lit up with tens of candles, providing an ample amount of light. In it one can see the feast that she has cooked up. Potatoes and meats and cheeses and breads. There are even little cakes and tarts sitting next to the recently dusted bottles of what can only be alcohol.

Vahkul has never been hungrier in his life.

The group hurriedly settles into the main room, sitting snugly on Lilian’s shaggy rug. She pours their drinks, beginning with Tanitha’s. After she promptly gulps hers down, Lilian pours her another. “Alright everyone. Dig in!” And they do.

Everything is dripping with fat and oil, and the seasoning sticks to Vahkul’s fingers like a second skin. Never in his life has he had a meal like this. In the army, everything is dry and stale and made only to keep you alive, but this... This tastes like what he imagines a home feels like.

He can taste every morsel of love and thought put into this meal, and he can feel that Lilian really wants this to work. She wants everyone to be friends. That’s why when everyone’s bellies are swollen with food and their veins are poisoned with spirits, Vahkul suggests that they all play a game.

A chorus of hoots follows the suggestion, leading him to believe that they’ve been drinking for a lot longer than it seems. “Rings and Rubies!” He shouts, standing on wobbly legs. Everyone follows suit with high pitched whoops. “O-okay. Die. We need a die.” He hold out his hand and is surprised to find that it’s Tanitha that delivers the wooden die.

He goes on to explain the rules. “Hey! That’s just Snakes in the Grass!” They must have their own version of the game on this continent. “Have you ever played the warriors version?” Tanitha’s smile is sloppy as she elbows Dafiel. The group shakes their heads, and Tanitha’s smile grows larger. “Well, when you’ve been robbed, you take a nasty swig of spirits, do a haughty little dance, and remove some clothes. Once the game ends, the person with the least amount of clothes has to do a dare, of sorts, thought up by the group.”

She takes a big swallow of her drink, and somehow, someway, she convinces the group that this is the only way the game should be played.

The first thought that reaches Vahkul tells him that he should have died in his sleep. “Holy flames,” He groans, turning onto his stomach. Nausea sits at the tip of his tongue threatening to jump. His head pounds, but it only takes a moment for his healing to kick in. The sickness doesn’t go away though.

Last night... Last night was a ride that he can just barely remember. He sits up, his hands going to cover his eyes. Lilian’s windows have no covers, so the light, though dull, is still blinding. Vahkul stands, and immediately knows that something is wrong.

A string of air brushes along the inside of his thighs in a way that shouldn’t be possible. He looks down. “Oh God!” He screeches, dropping back down to cover himself. One hand goes to his chest and the other goes to his privates.

A groan sounds from next to him. “Unholy hells, shut up!” Tans, ever the lady, curses him before rolling over. His eyes widen as her exposed backside comes into view. She wears nothing but an arm band of some sort. Her hair is loose, the wild curls falling over the nape of her neck. Oh no, this isn’t good. This isn’t good at a-

Something hits him in the face. A small yawn fills the empty air, and as whatever it is that hits him slides down the planes of his features, Lilian walks into his line of vision. “Cover up and come with me to make breakfast,” She whispers. Vahkul looks down to see that she has tossed him a pair of soft brown pants and a green tunic.

Quickly scrambling into them, he responds with, “What all happened last night?” He hates to admit it, but he was properly toasted. He’s terrible as it is with weak ale, but then Lily and Tans pulled out spirits, their faces the picture of luring innocence, and it was just downhill from there.

She giggles, and it’s so utterly female that it almost startles him. Sometimes, given the carnivorous teeth and other strange tendencies, Vahkul forgets that Lilian is indeed a woman. She, at times, blindsides him with startling girlish displays. He steps over Daffy, who is also scantly covered with the corner portion of Lilian’s rug. It seems no one saw it fit to bring out sheets for the night. Lilian leads the way to her small kitchen. Opening a cabinet and pulling out a few utensils, she starts, “Last night was amazing. It was so freeing, and seeing you like that- It was just eye opening.”

How did she see him? What did he do? The questions are tearing him up inside, but Lily seems so content with pulling things out for breakfast that he can’t find it in him to voice his anxiousness. She hums as she lights the fire for her stove, then swishes her hips, which are just barely concealed beneath the tangle of greenery that she might call a night dress. The vine-like tendrils swish as she moves, often times parting to reveal pale skin. Vahkul doesn’t recall her wearing that last night.

She pulls a pan from its resting spot. “Could you pass me a few potatoes from that sack in the corner?” He does as she asks. “Oh, your clothes are in my room, just back there. I know you probably want to cover your chest up.” She gives his chest a quick side eye causing Vahkul’s hand to rush to cover the raised and darkened skin peaking through the tremendously low line of the top he'd been given. “Though your robes aren’t clean anymore. I can take them to the laundress later if you'd like.” Vahkul’s brows furrow, but he follows the direction that she pointed and finds himself in a small room.

The first thing that captures his attention are the walls. Walking forward, he sees that every inch is covered in paint. Vahkul draws a finger cautiously across the flat wooden planes. A grand mural covers the entirety of each wall, all of them coming and connecting at the corners. A story is written in the captivating swirls and brushwork, and a play is acted before his very eyes.

In the first act, there is a small girl, grieving. She sits on her knees, arms splayed out and tears running rivers down her cheeks. Her clawed fingers drip blood that’s only illuminated because the moon sought to shine its light on her. The next act of the tale is told on the second wall.

Grand trees lean down to comfort her. Though their roots are planted deeply into the ground, their trunks bend fluidly, their branches all reaching out to soothe the child that cries in the moonlight. Their leaves catch the blood falling from her fingertips. Her face has taken on a serene expression.

Vahkul turns to the final piece of the story.

The girl is reborn. The knees that were once pressed harshly into the ground take root in the soil. She becomes the embodiment of life and her eyes now sparkle with an unconstrained joy.

“It’s just a story.” He jumps. “The nannies used to tell it to the kids to get us to fall asleep when the moon shined too harshly through our windows. The story of a little girl saved by the forest. I loved it. I used to imagine that it was me, and in a way, it is.” She looks away from her murals, fiddling with her fingers. “Breakfast is ready, I was hoping you could make something for my headache though. Something that would go well with potatoes, hopefully.”

Her laugh drives away the feeling that had begun to creep up Vahkul’s chest. “Of course.” She turns and Vahkul goes to the corner where he spots a pile of clothes. His head tilts as he sees something strange on the arm of his tunic. “Is that blood?”

He shrugs it off, sure that there’s a reasonable explanation for it. Grabbing his belt, he returns to the kitchen, completely abandoning his clothes. There's no point in hiding when everyone has likely already seen his chest. Besides, as familiar as they are, Vahkul actually hates robes with a passion.

Lily is scraping food onto plates when he enters her small kitchen. “There’s a pitcher of water in my cabinet over there. Use whatever you need.” He opens the cabinet and pulls out the pitcher of water.

Not feeling like boiling anything, he settles for making room temperature tea. He makes Daffy’s and Lilian’s first. Then, when he gets to Tanitha’s, he hesitates. He isn’t sure what urges him to do it, but he adds something different to hers, and before he can take it and spill it out, Lilian is calling everyone in for breakfast.

He watches, seemingly compelled, as Tanitha raises her cup to her lips. As soon as the first drop of her tea wets the tip of her tongue, tension melts out of her. She looks to Lilian. “This is really good.” Vahkul takes a sip of his own drink as Lily mentions that he was in charge of the tea.

Tans nods her head at him, and he notices that the shadows that follow her have billowed back, if only a little. His heart, which is pounding painfully against his ribs, begins to settle. He’s happy that the herbs had a positive effect on her.

Everyone eats in relative silence, content with pretending that the actions of last night were mere dreams. And since Vahkul can barely recall what happened, it seems appropriate.

After clearing off their dishes, he finally manages to gather the courage to pull Tanitha aside. Her eyes roll, and she looks ready to spit poison, but Vahkul holds out a hand. “I know that you’re angry with me, but could we make just one more deal?”

Her arms cross and the relaxed pose she takes up has her hip popping out. He’s thankful that she wrapped herself up in one of Lilian’s night gowns, but it still doesn’t cover too much. “I’m not stupid enough to make a second deal with an oath-breaker.” Her brow twitches, and Vahkul watches, mystified, as her shadows grow. Something in her face twists. But as quickly as the change came, it’s gone.

“I’m begging you, Tans. Let me make it up to you. I want to make it up to you.” She shakes her head in a way that makes Vahkul think that there’s more to her anger. “I want you to come by the healing center a few days out of the week.” She scoffs and Vahkul puts his hand on her shoulder, hoping that she won't break it. “Just come and lounge around for a few hours at the end of my rounds. We can talk, exchange stories, drink tea, and get to know each other better. We could be friends. That’s all I ask.”

He can tell that his request is a lot for her. Her body takes on an extreme amount of tension, like she’s at war with some inner part of herself. Vahkul steps away, intent on giving her a moment to think, but those twenty seconds are longer than the previous twenty-four years of his life. “We will never be friends,” she spits. His chest aches. “Itumas make you weak, and I cannot afford to be weak.” He should have expected as much. “But... we could become acquaintances.”

His head rises at the sudden shift in her tone. Her voice doesn’t even sound like her own. He must think this, because it's the first time she’s said something nice to him. Knowing that this declaration has probably taken a lot from her causes a grin to begin forming on Vahkul’s face. Tans punches his shoulder and directs her eyes elsewhere. “I’ll come by every two days. Just know that if you pull any weird stuff that I'll kill you.” She points a finger at him, eliciting an enthusiastic nod.

After that, everyone goes their separate ways, and he finally begins to get settled into his new life.