Work Text:
The ex-paladin thinks that there is something not quite right with the town. Or perhaps not so much the town itself, but more time?
Honestly, he feels like he is making a big deal out of nothing. But something does not feel right here. It isn't obvious, and it isn't frequent, but sometimes everything just ... glitches a little. A raccoon that he could have sworn he saw only an hour ago is back again, following the exact same pattern. Or the dark shadow (which the wizard swears isn't actually a dragon, but the ex-paladin isn't sure if his partner is pulling his leg again) that passes over the town twice in a night. It could be coincidence - animals move as they will, and it's not like it is unusual to hear a raccoon in this part of the realm - but the ex-paladin has a sinking feeling in his belly that there is something more to this. Though his fighting days may be well over, he still never ignores that feeling, which has saved him many times before.
It is like the world is stuck in a loop, and he is the only one who seems to notice. And once he has noticed, he cannot stop. His sleep becomes interrupted, mind racing with anxious anticipation for the next repeat. The bags under his eyes grow deeper, and the concerned glances that his partner begins to send him makes it very clear that this change has no gone unnoticed.
One afternoon as they wander through the outskirts of the town, basket in his hands and that familiar small knife in the wizard's, he can hold back his thoughts no longer.
"Wizard," he says softly, not entirely sure where to begin.
His closest friend turns to him, setting aside the lemongrass that he had been harvesting. "Yes, Paladin?"
"Have you ever ..." He pauses, but the kindness in the other's eyes spurs him on. "Have you ever noticed that something is just not quite right here? Not with us, of course, but with this place. It's like things are stuck in a loop, repeating the same actions again and again. No often, and really only ever at night, but there is something there, I just feel it."
The wizard lets out a long slow breath, settling back into an uncharacteristic slouch. He pauses a moment, clearly gathering his thoughts. "I should've known that you would notice it eventually; you have always been observant like that. I just ... I didn't know where to start. It's a curse, one that was cast before you arrived here. As far as curses go, this one is pretty mild: it just impacts the wildlife, a slight wobble in time every so often that our brains can't perceive but their's certainly can. It sends them in a loop, their feet or wings falling into whatever pattern is in their recent memory until time settles out and they continue on with their lives. But whatever's behind it, is anything but mild. I have been searching for years but my scrolls and spells don't tell me more than that it is this vast, inhuman entity. And I definitely don't want to do anything that could catch its attention. I didn't want to worry you, not when there was nothing I could do about it and nothing seemed to be getting worse." The wizard just stares at his hands, looking so defeated.
The ex-paladin leans in until their shoulders touch. "I'm not angry, you know. I know you don't keep secrets unless it is for a good reason. And with how anxious and paranoid I've been feeling lately because of all this. You were probably right. But I know now, and you're not alone with this burden. We'll figure it out; or just happily go about our days ignoring it."
The wizard snorts, a little wetly. "Sounds about right."
The ex-paladin stands, offering the other his hand. "Come," he says, "We are far from finished here, and are losing daylight. I know you'll be grumpy all evening if you don't get a chance to finish filling your basket. Anything else can wait."