The End of the Dream

Chapter 14

You took the morning slowly.

A bath first, to relax and to ease your aching muscles. All the running around and diving out of the way of vicious monster attacks had left you tense and sore. Not to mention your shoulders, carrying what felt like the weight of the entire world's fate.

That was an exaggeration. Probably. But the stress was still wearing on you. It was so much to comprehend and deal with.

Maybe you were avoiding facing it for a while. You stayed in the bath until your fingers were wrinkled and the water had gone cold.

Breakfast next. Not that you needed to eat, but it was about the routine, bringing back some sense of structure to the chaos you'd been living in thus far.

It was nice to see the faces of other egos too, even if only in passing. You'd ended up spending most of your time with Dark lately, which you didn't necessarily mind. He was magnetic, somehow. Mysterious, captivating. Talking with him was endlessly intriguing. And he'd risked his life to save yours with no hesitation.

But he also had a frustrating habit of pushing you away as soon as you made any headway in getting closer to him. One moment he trusted you enough to share personal, vulnerable information about his past and the nature of who he was, the next he was grabbing you by the throat because you dared to suggest maybe he was a decent person after all.

Talk about mixed signals.

Yesterday had been a shock for everyone, though. You couldn't even fathom the kind of trauma it must have brought back, for Dark and Wilford both.

Maybe he just needed some space.

Like Wilford had taken, speaking of. You hadn't seen Wilford since, and that troubled you. But, you reminded yourself firmly, it wasn't any of your business. You'd known them both only a few days, realistically speaking. Maybe Wilford disappearing off was normal.

You put it from your mind and got on with the business of breakfast. Leaving several strips of bacon sizzling away in a frying pan, you searched the cupboards for a bowl to crack an egg into.

The first you opened was full of glasses, rather than dishware. An innocuous mistake, you had thought, but it attracted the attention of someone new who had entered the kitchen.

"Ah, just what we were after," a smooth voice crooned. "Don't suppose you could pass us those whiskey glasses, now, could you?"

The voice belonged to a striking man in adventurer's khakis and a brown fedora, a coiled bullwhip hung on his hip. He winked as you turned around.

"Well, now. My search for treasure has led me many places, but I never expected to find such a gem right here."

You stared at him. He stuck out his hand, flashing a winning smile.

"The name's Illinois. Professional adventurer. And yes, I am single."

"Yer single 'cause no ones wit' any sense be fallin' for yer smarmy pick up lines, m'boy!" another man boomed, patting Illinois on the shoulder with a guffaw. Illinois nearly buckled beneath the impact of the huge, meaty hand.

He was a great hulking tree of a man—apparently literally, with legs that appeared to be thick stumps. He towered over both you and Illinois. Though not quite as broad as he was tall, it was a pretty close call.

A magnificently bushy beard concealed most of his lower face, but, somewhere amongst it, yellowed teeth flashed. "Capt'n Magnum," he introduced himself. "Ye a new crewmate? Not seen yer face 'round these parts before. Then again, ye seem mighty familiar..."