The Undead Sorcerer

Chapter Six

The singing, plucking, and strumming of music didn't settle until late last night. Even after that, glasses kept clinking for what must have been another hour. A true night's rest eluded me for the better half of the night. How could I sleep after what happened? Now, I don't want to wake. It would have been better for me to have slipped away into a deep sleep rather than the possibility of Justina revealing my secret to the entire party. Justina... She didn't cower in fear, cringe in disgust, or stare with pity in her sweet eyes. In fact, I remember her gentle fingers on my cheek. I haven't been that afraid in a long time. Someone's knocking on my bedroom door.

"Good morning, Allistair. Did you forget we're joining the village church service?" Henry encourages."We must join the townspeople in their morning prayer," he tells me. I roll over, pulling the pillow over my head.

"I'd rather not," I complain.

"Come on now, you must be diligent," Henry urges, clapping his hands or something. The curtains flutter about, and the morning sun bursts through the windows, searing anything not covered by the pillow or blanket.

"Alright, alright, I'll get up! Shut the blinds," I plead, giving in. I hear him smirk on his way out. "Damn it," I swear at my burnt foot, reddened by a second's exposure to the sun filtered through the curtains. A few years ago, my aversion to the sun was only a minor drawback to my fast healing. But, it's quickly become a curse on my existence. Hopefully, the layers I packed will suffice for today.

"Morning," Henry greets me.

"Morning, is everyone set to leave?" I inquire, earning a few looks from the campaign gathered in the foyer. They raise eyebrows at each other with silent questions screaming between them.

"Almost, Sunny's the last one. I believe she's still tuning her viola strings," Edward answers.

"Is she performing in the chapel this morning? The bard's repertoire might liven their stuffy lecture," I comment, earning several wide-eyed looks. Why are they staring at me like that? I came down dressed and even fixed my bedhead. I don't think I said anything weird.

"Nice to meet you, Alistair. I don't think I've met you sober so early," Edward admits. There's some nervous mutterings around the foyer. "Pardon me, I couldn't help it. That was terrible of me," Edward apologizes. "It's good to have you join us," he adds. Oh, that's it.

"None taken. Didn't need a drink today," I answer, and I feel Justina looking this way.

"Just a minute, thank you for waiting," Sunny is running down the stairs in a long, delicate pink dress with short, laced sleeves. Mathew shoulders around me, nearly knockkng me over.

"It was well worth the wait, m'lady. You look lovely," Matthew flirts, offering to carry her viola case for her. His enthusiasm is shameless, but I appreciate he's focusing his attention elsewhere rather than antagonizing me another day. Morgan picks up the pace to catch up to Sunny. The two carry traces of heavy floral perfumes that linger as Morgan passes by.

"You're absolutely stunning," Morgan tells Sunny, the two gushing over each other's dresses. Even Henry has dawned a rather festive blue stole over his white button-up cloak, adorned with matching blue frills. It's been years since I've been in a sacred home, but I don't remember dressing so lavishly. Perhaps I should have. We are envoys from the capital. What sort of image is expected... I find Justina again. The doctor is dressed in a white tunic and trousers, an outfit that suits the armored knight I saw briefly yesterday. Funny, though, her clothes have no expensive dyes or frills; she glows without them.

"Justina, would it have killed you to wear something more appropriate?" Henry mutters under his breath, and I avert my gaze.

"I beg your pardon?" Justina wonders.