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Dorian started awake as he felt a hand gently shake his shoulder. Rubbing his eyes, he looked up to see Fy’ra Rai kneeling by his side.
‘It is your time to take watch my friend’, she murmured softly, ‘Nothing of note to report, but keep your wits about you’.
‘Of course’, Dorian said with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes as he got to his feet, ‘I am nothing if not attentive’.
Fy’ra Rai merely gave a sharp nod before quietly making her way to her bedroll.
Stifling a yawn, Dorian swept his gaze over his friends. The last few days had been rough, and he could see the exhaustion in their faces even as they slept. They hadn’t stopped moving in search of a safe place, ever since the fiasco in Westrrun only a week ago. It wasn’t until Morrighan had spotted this cave nestled in a cliffside that they’d finally been able to stop. It had been a relief to finally make camp, but Dorian still couldn’t help but worry about what was to come.
His eyes stopped on Opal, taking in the thick black rivulets that ran down her face and the crown that sat affixed to her head like barbed wire. She was shivering and her lips were moving ever so slightly, as if she was talking to someone. That wasn’t unusual nowadays unfortunately, and he didn’t have a clue how they were going to handle this. If it hadn’t been for Dariax and Cyrus tackling her when they did….it didn’t bear thinking about. To think he’d once tried to take the crown for himself, what a fool he’d been. Shaking his head, he covered her up with his blanket before settling down at the mouth of the cave.
Leaning against the cool stone he stared up into the night sky. Vibrant red ribbons were weaving through the stars, tumbling over the mountain peaks in the distance and flowing like a stream trickling through a forest. Ruidus was high above, its blood-red light casting a ruddy hue over the land that swallowed Catha’s rays completely. It was mesmerising, a once in a lifetime feat of nature that he would never see again. And it struck terror into his heart.
Ever since those messages from Orym, abject fear had taken root and had refused to budge. Orym had tried to downplay things, and 25 words could only say so much, but Dorian knew him well enough to know that he wanted nothing more than to be at his side. Of course that was impossible, and he didn’t need to add anything more to Orym’s plate, so Dorian had replied in much the same way though he hadn’t been able to hide his longing as much as he’d hoped.
He kept up a good front around the others, though he suspected he didn’t have Fy’ra Rai completely fooled, but every waking second he felt like he was waiting for everything to come crashing down on him. Once the red mist had started to form, it had lodged itself deeper as his far too vivid imagination played horror scenes of the danger his halfling was facing. Not to mention the rest of his friends in Bells Hells. It was a miracle he’d been able to sleep at all.
For a while he sat silently, roving the forest floor beneath them for any signs of danger as his mind played through endless scenarios. Eventually, despite his best intentions, his hand went into his jacket pocket and pulled out the stone that had resided there ever since the day he’d left Marquet.
As Dorian ran his thumb over the blue stone, he couldn’t help but think for the umpteenth time how unremarkable it looked. By now he knew every inch of it like the back of his hand. He’d looked it over so much he was surprised he hadn’t worn a hole in his pocket. No matter how much he tried to keep it secured, he couldn’t help himself. It was his one link to Orym, and every message was proof he was still alive. He’d thought about sending his own message countless times, but the idea that he would never get a reply was too much for him to bear. So instead he waited, praying he would hear Orym’s voice again.
For the remainder of his watch Dorian held the stone in his hand, it’s rough edges digging into his skin. Every few seconds he glanced down to check if it was active, the constant anticipation wearing away at him. The red ribbons continued their dance through the sky, heedless of Dorian’s fear. Eventually, his watch came to an end after what felt like an eternity. Before he went back inside he took one final look up at Ruidus, slipping the stone back into his pocket as he did so.
‘Orym I might be too scared to send a message to you, but wherever you are please remember your last promise to me’, he whispered into the night air, ‘Be safe, and whatever you do come back to me. I still need you ’.
With that, he spun on his heel and made his way back to the others to wake Dariax up for his watch. The fear was still sitting like a lead weight, but he had faith in Orym that he would keep that promise. Because if he didn’t Dorian’s world truly would be destroyed, and he didn’t know if he could ever come back from that.