Tristan

The morning after, Tristan lay in bed staring up at the ceiling. He knew that he'd slept some, but he wasn't sure exactly how much. It felt like hardly any. Not enough, certainly. He'd turned off his [Clock] skill a while ago, as he'd found himself mostly just watching the seconds and minutes ticking by.

It hadn't helped him sleep, though.

He could feel the overwhelming tiredness weighing down his body. It lingered right beneath his eyes and turned his limbs to lead. It was awful. So he blinked, and blinked, and occasionally some of those might have been long enough to allow for some sleep, but it never came. Or, if it did, it was fitful, and on and off, until long past the time when the sun had begun to rise and filled the small window of his room.

Eventually, after several restless hours of tossing and turning, there was a knock on his door.

He groaned, "Who is it?"

It was Sophie. "It's almost noon, Tristan. Are you okay in there?"

He knew the true answer, just as he knew he wouldn't dare speak it aloud. What kind of answer does one truly expect to that question? Especially from a person who's only been lying in bed and staring at the ceiling for a full night? He hadn't been reading his quests. He hadn't been reviewing his skills. He hadn't been making any checklists or considering any of the other things he might normally do to prepare, especially for tiering up.

He was just trying not to think. Trying not to relive... certain events.

"Oh yeah," he lied, "I'm fine."

"Yeah, that wasn't convincing at all, you know. I think that's what has me so worried. Are you lying to me, or lying to yourself?"

"I'm just lying in bed," he replied. He thought it was clever, but he also recognized he was in no position to judge that--or anything like it--in his current tiredness.

"Can I come in?" she asked.

Tristan tilted his head toward the door, but he couldn't quite see it without shifting positions more, which he wasn't about to do. "I don't know. Can you? I'm pretty sure the door is locked."

There were sounds like the twisting of the handle, but since the door didn't seem to be opening, Tristan just went back to resting his head again on the pillow.

"It is..." Sophie confirmed, but there was something in her tone that told him that she wasn't going to just give up on it--or him? He wasn't sure.

There were more sounds from the door, though this time Tristan didn't recognize them or bother to look in that direction. Within only a handful of seconds, the knob turned and Sophie quickly strode into his room, with Poof in her arms, and both of them wore very clear frowns on their faces.

"Oh yeah, that's right, you can do that," Tristan said blankly.

"Tristan," Sophie began as she walked closer, "what is going on with you?"

Poof began speaking, and wouldn't you know it, but Tristan thought he could actually make out nearly half of the words, even if the little furball was meeping entirely too quickly.

"You (something something) get up! You can't (something) all day! Laziness is (something something something)!"

Tristan closed his eyes and tried to sift through what he'd heard. "Laziness is... what?"

"She said it's 'atrocious in the face of such success,' and--" Sophie blinked at him. "Wait. Did you actually understand what she was just saying?"

"Some of it, but definitely not enough. She was going too fast."

"But you're actually making progress!" Sophie said, her frown now completely replaced with an impressed look of appreciation.

"Yeah, I guess so. I said I was fine."

Poof snorted. "Yes, but (something something), and he's still (something something something something) is atrocious."

"Hey, you said it again, I think," Tristan said, "at the end." He raised a finger and pointed at the astral, whose eyes definitely widened like she might have been impressed. "And you said something else, probably mean, about me, though I might be--"

"She did!" Sophie confirmed. "She totally did, though she wasn't really mean about it. She was just, um, commenting that this isn't like you. More or less."

"That is not what I said," Poof replied, and this time it was slow and, more importantly, simple enough that Tristan understood every word.

Tristan hadn't expected her to be so sarcastic, so he laughed.

Then Poof looked at him, saw his comprehension, and laughed too.

Then Sophie laughed.

They were all laughing, or at least that was how it started, until Sophie pulled back and asked, "So are you ready to talk about what's really bothering you?"

And just like that, the momentary joy dissolved into something else, something worse. Tristan's chest started heaving as a tightening darkness clamped down on him. It felt like a combination of familiar emotions, like anger, and worry, alongside the newest: disgust. But the mix felt so much worse than the sum of its parts.

The storm of memories came rushing in, and with them the concerns he'd been avoiding. Concerns for his friends and how vulnerable they clearly were. Concerns for himself and what he was becoming. Concerns for his Path that had once felt as straight as the swords he'd wanted to make, but now...?

Jamal had told him, once--it must have been after Shadow--that his Path didn't seem to care about good or bad. At the time, it had felt only like a minor consideration. Yet here was that same doubt again, and this time he knew it wasn't minor.

Without even realizing it, he'd curled up on the bed, and in the midst of sorting through his warring thoughts, Poof had wriggled into the space between his chest and arms. Now she was just resting there like a warm ball of comfort.

"I am sorry," the little astral whispered slowly. "I can see that you are not (something), but we are here for you. If you need it."

Then he felt the bed shift again, and reopening his eyes he saw that Sophie was sitting at the foot of the bed, too.

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"She said it as well as I would have," the astralist chimed in.

That little bit of extra, unexpected kindness sent Tristan over the edge internally. And for the first time, he decided he might actually want to let it out, that it might be better if he at least... tried.

"I... It's just that... It was the way we killed her," he said, struggling to find a good starting point. "It felt so cold, and so efficient." He wetted his lips, not sure he wanted to say the next words, though he knew they were what he wanted most to say. "It was too easy. It felt like an execution."

"And that's bothering you," Sophie said, not asking but stating the fact of it. "I can see why, given how it looked from where we were standing. But recall the enormous tier difference between us. Efficient is not what anyone would expect from our side of that fight."

"But I suppose I don't need to tell you that. You were, honestly, beyond impressive with the way you leapt directly into the frey back there, and then you didn't ease up at all as you went to town on her. To an outsider it might even have looked like you were the higher tier with as well as you were harrying her. She never even got to use a single skill."

"Doesn't that bother you?" Tristan asked, running a hand through his shaggy hair. "Why does it bother me so much?"

Sophie sat quietly for a bit, perhaps thinking, which gave Tristan the chance to feel Poof's soft almost-purring right against his chest. It was a very relaxing sound.

"I don't know why it doesn't bother me," the astralist replied. "Maybe it's because I was at range and didn't get her literal blood on my hands. Maybe it's because we've been doing this for a while, and I've been a bit desensitized since Venom. That bothered me in a big way, as you might recall, though I don't think it bothered you. Did it?"

"Not as much, no," Tristan admitted.

"So why did this one?" she asked. "What was so different about Timetwister?"

Tristan went back through his thoughts, finding it far too easy to jump back onto that train, but this time he tried not to let it carry him too far too fast. He had to focus, to go back to what he hoped he might find in there somewhere.

And he did. He found the truth--or at least one truth--of it. The new question was whether he was confident enough to say it aloud. How will she react? he wondered. Well, I've opened up this much. In for a copper, in for a gold.

He squeezed Poof slightly against him, just for that little bit of extra confidence, and he said, "Because she was so easy to take down. She was a tier 4, but that hardly mattered because she was so squishy. She didn't have armor. We neutered or dispelled her buffs. She didn't have much of anything, let alone a chance. She just died. And..." He exhaled, steadying himself. "And you don't have any of that stuff either. In fact, you have much, much less than her." He met Sophie's eyes. "You're only Tier 2, Sophie. And what would I do--what would you do--if someone came after you like that?"

Sophie looked away, but only briefly, because when her gaze returned to meet his, it was firm. "I'd fight the best that I could, obviously. I'd call upon all of my allies, and use every single one of my tricks and skills, to show that anyone who wanted to come for me would not have an easy time."

"But..." Tristan wanted to say, 'you're so vulnerable,' but he didn't.

"And you're not? Remind me: which of us was found nearly dead out in a field?"

"That's different though."

"Hardly. What would you do if someone came after you like that? I may currently have less defenses to keep myself safe in combat, but I'm also aware of that lack, and I deal with it smartly."

Tristan heard the heat in her voice and understood he'd upset her, though he hadn't meant to. He let her continue without interrupting.

"I know all of this, Tristan. If people came for me like we came for her, I probably would die. You think I haven't considered all the myriad ways this mission could have gone? But more than that, do you think that when I went triple-astralist I didn't know the uphill climb I was setting before myself? Of course I did! Yet I am here to tell you that I still think it will be worth it. More than that, I believe that I can--and will--achieve my dream and prove my Path to the realm. It might take me longer than most, but I am not going to give up. And yes, that means that I need to be a bit more careful than most, especially in these early levels, but I can and will do whatever I need to do to make sure that I don't end up like Timetwister."

In his arms, Poof said, "We will not (something something) without a (something)!"

"Was that last word 'fight'?" he asked.

The little astral grinned at him. "Yes."

"Then I think I get what you're saying. I just wish it made me feel any better."

"You want to feel better?" Sophie asked, still keeping the flint in her words. "Maybe get out of bed and eat something. Or get back to the training grounds. Start thinking about the future again and not just the past. There is a lot we could be doing now, even if it's just celebrating what we accomplished yesterday. It was an amazing accomplishment, and way more than any other pair of tier 2s in the realm can claim right now! I gained three whole levels, and you're on the brink of a tier up! Why aren't we celebrating?!"

Tristan sighed. "I know. I know." He sat up and turned his [Clock] skill back on. "Ugh, it's so late, but I still feel like crap."

Sophie shrugged. "I mean, bad sleep is sometimes even worse than no sleep. Tonight you're going to have to make sure you don't fall into that trap again. Maybe we'll ask Billy to get you a sleep potion or something."

Tristan chuckled. "That might not be too bad. After last night, I'll do whatever it takes to sleep. Maybe even drink again. Although I should warn you--and Billy, too, I guess--because I've been told that it takes a lot to get me that drunk." There was a lingering memory of a party not too long ago at Jamal's, a party where he'd gotten so wasted he still wasn't sure what had happened. He'd blacked out until the morning, and had the worst headache of his entire life, until Cleo helped with that.

"It's not like that's my favorite plan of the week," Sophie said with a chuckle.

"Yeah. Let's keep that as a fallback," he agreed. "I've done that once, at Jamal's, and I'm not looking for a repeat."

"Meep MEEP," Poof said, sounding a bit disappointed, even if Tristan couldn't understand what it was that she said.

"Don't listen to her," Sophie said. "Whatever you want, we can make that happen today. Even if it just means a day off." Then she stood up and began pacing. "We should probably at least begin considering what's next for us, though."

The notification kept blinking at the bottom of Tristan's vision. "Yeah, what is next?" He sighed. "Whatever you want, I say. Maybe it's time I follow along for a bit instead of always leading the way."

Sophie pivoted on her heel and looked back at him. "I don't think we have the same view of how things have been going, Tristan, but that's okay. From my view, we've been doing a good job of communicating, mostly." She lowered her brow and cleared her throat. "It doesn't bother me that our journeys have largely been things you've suggested. They've been great experiences and really fun at times. I also view it as we've been making all of those decisions together. I would have spoken up if I'd thought otherwise."

"Oh. Alright. I just... Huh."

She smiled easily at him. "Besides, if you think back to how we first met, you might recall that being in a party like this is just as new for me as it is for you. So we're both bound to make some mistakes or missteps, but as long as we're open and honest about them, I think we will be fine in the long run."

"You're... really good at expressing yourself," Tristan admitted. "And thanks for the vote of confidence."

"Did you ever consider that maybe I'm better at it because my life before all this would have been even more awful without it? Precision of language and successful communication were practically required around my parents. The first was something my mother used to insist upon."

"Gross," Tristan said, standing up at last despite the headache lurking behind his eyes.

"Precisely. So, since you're finally up, can I interest you in lunch?"

"I could eat," Tristan answered, feeling the intense pangs coming from his belly.

"Okay. Then let's head downstairs, catch up with Billy, and decide where our next steps might take us."

Tristan agreed, and without even really noticing it, he'd managed to take the first steps down the road toward a truly healthy recovery.

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