An Unaccustomed Silence

[Benreeder]

It was the silence that woke Jack. At least, that was what he told himself.

Blaming the lack of sound was easier than looking at the bottom of the bottle on the floor beside him. At least it isn’t mead or grog, he told himself. Sitting up, he kept his arms at his side, hands trembling from the urge to reach for the metal vessel. Sleep pulled at him, but the silence was too new. No sound of teeth gnashing at the gates, no screams or laughter rising up from the dark places outside the walls. Just…crickets and frogs and dogs and people.

He stood and walked to the door of the bunkhouse, leaving the empty bottle and its empty promise behind for the moment. His path led him to the sign of the Infinite Hourglass. The original shop, the namesake for his own business back in Meadowmere. The design was slightly different, but in all the important ways, it was the same. Pausing for a moment, he went to the makeshift temple beside it, the Po Chi Lam. The incense sticks were strings of ash, so he took a new one and lit it from the lantern. With slow, gentle movements, he wiped the dust and ash away, plucking the shortened incense sticks from the sand and tossing them out the door. As he tidied the small temple, the singing bowl chimed on its own, a sound he imagined was happy and peaceful in his own interpretation. The peace of the Lam slowly drove out the jittery nerves, and Jack stepped back out, into the night.

Crickets. Dogs. People.

Tears started, and Jack hustled inside, unsure exactly why he was crying, but certain of what had opened the floodgates.

The Afflicted were no longer slaves to the Hunger. So many dead, but many saved. Hanu, effectively gone, save for whispers. Hermes and Dahlya, gone to the Feywild. And Kelora, brought low by her own blade, albeit she’d put it in poor Poet’s hand to do the deed. Kalen missing. Grimm possibly captured. And Vorn felled by the fruits of his own rage. Too many losses, but it had been Dahlya’s that had cut the deepest. Maybe she had feared that he would try to talk her out of it, but he’d felt the gulf growing between them ever since his illness in the desert. A sense of sadness from her, and a loss that he couldn’t explain, and had long since stopped trying to. Or was it his own overweening pride in thinking he could find a solution to save Ancuram to justify saving Meadowmere?

The thoughts chased each other around in his head, their momentum trying to find their usual outlet in his hands. But, as much as he wanted to find something to do, he stayed rooted to the spot.

There’s nothing to do.

The thought shook him to the core. For months, his mind, body, and soul had been focused on working. Repairing broken weapons, making amulets and potions, and rebuilding walls. For months, sleep had been the enemy. Because if he slept, they might come crashing through the walls. If he slept, people might die. But now, if sleep took him, the dreams of death would come, the pleas of the afflicted to sate the Hunger, and the ease that only oblivion had brought them.

“Like, that’s not on you, man,” he imagined Hanu saying.

I did what I had to do to survive. Hanu would tell me we all do bad things sometimes, but it’s what we do today that makes the difference. Or maybe something a lot deeper than that. Maybe it’s time I tried to find a little peace for myself.

“Look around, dude. Peace is where you make it.”

Jack’s head snapped to the side, certain he’d heard Hanu’s voice for real. But that wasn’t possible…unless he was hallucinating. That was not only possible, it was probable.

Either way, there was truth in the words. The smell of sawdust, hot metal, and herbs was a balm to his senses, and the mere presence of his tools brought him comfort. The big fight was done. Ancuram’s problems were tomorrow’s concern. And he didn’t have to try to fix everything.

Just himself.

With heavy eyelids, he laid out blankets behind the worktable, then bowed toward the Po Chi Lam. As he drifted toward the shores of slumber, thoughts of calming herbal teas drifted through his head.

For the first time in weeks, Jack slept.

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