~ The Farce ~ pg 4

Footfalls of activity woke Civyl from his blessed unawareness. His nose throbbed and his shoulder ached from lying awkwardly on his side. The familiar hook of the mountain now tugged with strength, too.  With a groan and a stretch against the bonds on his wrists, he remembered why he was in pain. A different pain settled into his chest and threatened to crush him. All of his personal vows meant nothing if his mind could be tricked. Tears stung the corners of his eyes as he thought about how close he had come to… to… His mind refused to go further.

A pair of feet shuffled up and kneeled down behind him. Nivia’s voice was more understanding than he deserved. “Let’s get this rope off you, eh?”

“Is that wise?” he managed to whisper without his voice cracking. 

“I think that if this sorcerer were able to control your waking thoughts, he would not have had to wait till you slept to make his attempt.” Her words were too kind placing no blame on him, too forgiving for his part… but they did make sense. 

He allowed her to remove his bindings without further protest. Civyl sat up and rubbed his wrists then stretched his shoulder and prodded his tender nose. Nivia offered him a mug of tea without comment and he accepted it, sipping thankfully. The woman sat down in a chair next to him and just offered her presence as what comfort it may be. When the thoughts in his head became too loud to go unspoken, Civyl finally voiced them. “What am I to do, Nivia? I cannot stay here, the mountain will not let me. I cannot take her with me, but..." he hesitated at his word choice, "she will not let me leave her behind.”

“The solution is quite simple,” Nivia said without smiling. “You do not go alone.”

The End

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