Illusion of Safety // DreamNotFound

Chapter 3

George didn't get enough sleep, that much was certain. Each time his eyes drooped, Clay would shift, and his hand would shoot to where his knife should've been safely tucked. Except it wasn't there, because he'd been stupid enough to forget it in his cart. He'd calm after realizing it was a false alarm, but being unarmed around a stranger was unsettling.

Thankfully, Clay kept his back to the trader all night, which alleviated some of the potential awkwardness. Staring into that mask's permanent smile would've prevented any rest in the slightest. George did manage to squeeze in a few hours right before dawn, once the rain calmed into a mist and Clay seemed to find a comfortable position.

No dreams visited him that night, for which he was grateful. He didn't know if he wanted to relive the horrors he'd seen in the previous day, if it could even be called that. To be fair, it was fantastical, right out of a storybook. As a child, he would've been astounded. A shame, then, that those times had long-since passed.

He woke with the sun, unfortunately, and was surprised to find that it was later than he'd hoped. His stomach growled loudly and he knew there would be no more rest. Clay, however, slept like a baby. George stretched, and wrestled with his thoughts.

This would've been the perfect time to escape without the fae realizing. He could steal his cloak, maybe nab that obnoxious mask to hide his identity, and whatever other materials he had on him. Clay didn't have any prominent knowledge about Valina, George knew that much. Anyone who'd studied the kingdom would learn the same base facts; Redmere was the capital, Indus was a merchant hub, and Ashhedge rained a lot. He wouldn't be likely to find George if he ran now.

With a sigh, he came to his conclusion, although a bit hesitant. Some part of his consciousness, an annoying little voice in his head, knew that Clay wouldn't make it back to Thaeri without his help. He didn't want someone's life in his hands, even if it was a bit selfish to view it that way. He reached over, setting his palm on the other's shoulder and beginning to turn him.

His eyes widened as his wrist was grabbed and the world spun. In a blur of movement, he was pinned to the ground with Clay panting atop him. For a flash, he could've sworn there was a glimpse of sandy hair to be seen, but that thought fled as soon as he was forced to stare into that unreadable mask.

"Oh, it's just you," Clay stammered, quickly releasing him. George rubbed his wrists, in awe of the sudden strength that the stranger had demonstrated. So he was capable of doing some damage, the trader noted, but why hadn't he done that when they were in danger?

"Someone woke up on the wrong side of the tree," George grumbled, letting his half-assed joke fall flat. There was an awkward silence threatening to take over, and he quickly tried to fill it with conversation, "I'd say we should head out now. If we hurry we could make it to an inn I frequent."

"Oh, an actual bed," Clay wondered, clearly stiff from the unwelcoming ground. "One problem, I have about 3 silvers to my name."

George almost groaned. Inconvenienced again, who would've guessed. "It's fine," he exhaled, rubbing his temples. "I don't expect you to have Valina currency anyway."

"Funny story actually," the other chuckled nervously. "Thaeri uses silvers as well. I'm just a little stupid, and when I was forced out of my kingdom, I left my purse behind. Silly me."

George wasn't fond of that news, although he'd expected as much was true. Before the kingdoms had a falling out, they were major trading partners. Having the same currency would only make sense, but that was the last thing he wanted to hear.

The bag on his belt clinked softly as he stood, drawing the two's attention. He remembered the 60 silvers he'd gotten from Darryl, and obviously had more saved up, but no one wanted to spend money on strangers. He had half a mind to sell off the orb to the highest bidder, just to rid himself of all the trouble.