Framework of the Frontier, Sain Artwell [read me a book .TXT] 📗

It took some searching, but eventually Rulu herself spotted an access to the underground stream through a shelled badger burrow, which she was able to empty swiftly with her psychic magics. In the burrow, spring water flowed lazily through a groove eroded in the bottom.

Ember found an escape from the stench of badger poo and earth in Will’s arms. She nuzzled up against his chest, tenderly caressing his bearded cheeks, while he returned the affection in ear and head scratches. His slow breathing, trickle of water, and the occasional splash of Rulu added weights to her eyelids.

Despite hungrily chewing on a piece of jerky, Ember was quickly losing the fight against the dreams. But, she could not yet give in to the tempting bliss of sleep.

“Will?” Ember asked softly, pushing a thigh over his lap to hug him tight.

“Mm-hm?” His chest rumbled beneath her ear. A hand moved to cup her rear.

“Are your thoughts still a mess?”

Will took a deep breath, followed by a silence so long, that for a moment Ember thought he had fallen asleep. When he spoke again his voice relaxed. “I guess they are.”

“I’ll listen, if you need an ear.” Ember moved her ear to tickle his nose with it, eliciting a chuckle, and earning herself pats on the butt. “Unless, it’s a private thing only to be shared with your God.”

“Heh. Of all the things on my mind, he hasn’t been one of them.” He patted her butt again, leaning his head back against the anti-magic chest. It was clear, from his hesitation, that Will was not a man used to sharing his burdens. Holding his heart was a thing Ember could do, even if she might never match Rulu or him in usefulness.

She took his hand, snuggling up closer, burying herself in Will. “I love you,” she whispered.

“Love you too fluffy butt.” Will let out a long exhale and poured out the surface stream of thoughts.

He was afraid to ‘be a little bitch’, that he would lose her if he was weak. He hated himself for not being careful enough in the dungeon, and spoke of two friends — Abraham and Daniel — who he believed would’ve done it ten times better and twice as fast. He feared the thoughts he had when fighting against the swarm’s psychic control. He resented the Letter King for tricking him into such a dangerous mission and hated himself again for not embracing the danger like a real man should. He feared how Rajza’s gang would react and feared for Rulu’s safety. He missed things of his old realm. He worried over being too stupid to seize this new life he had. And lastly, he hated his God for working in mysterious ways.

He was a confused mess, that’s for sure. But he was a warm hearted and a lovable mess who belonged to her, though if someone truly did love him as she did, Ember wouldn’t mind him receiving more.

Ember felt the anxiety of his breaths melt slightly as he spoke. She did not reply until he had been quiet for a while.

“I still love you,” she said, climbing up to give him a kiss on the brow. “You’re doing great for someone from so far away. Don’t you worry what your friends or others might’ve done. Their life is not your life. It’s okay if you’re a little dense. It’s okay if that leads to some mistakes. Rulu and I are not the sharpest girls either in every way, if you didn’t notice, not in every topic. I for one am thankful to have met my lovable bumbling Will to get into and through trouble together.”

One long exhale deflated Will. He slumped against her, face resting on her breasts. Ember wrapped her arms around him and held him there.

“Your sword…” Will mumbled, half asleep. “…sorry about that. Can it be fixed?”

“No. Don’t be sorry. It’s just a sword,” she replied softly.

“Clearly meant a lot to you.”

“It did. But then, you let me cry and gave me a hug and reminded me of things much more precious.”

19

William’s next two days were occupied by what felt like refreshingly mundane troubles: Rocks in sandals, ticks under the clothes, and a blessed amount of two finely developed rears swaying on the path ahead. Neither of them was dressed in more than loose scraps of their former clothes and the way those new mithril boots dug into Ember’s upper thigh was divine.

Scaling the Towers of Epelos they managed to avoid run-ins with the huge shadows stalking the cliffs and skies. The only true close call they had on the way to Nastall was a moment after spotting the Twin Statues, when William slipped and nearly dropped the chest full of loot into a black ravine gaping into the heart of a mountainous ruin.

All in all, William considered the whole delve into the Maze a moderately successful mess. Sure, they got a bit bruised in there, but it could’ve gone worse, considering the number of lives it had claimed.

It had been a close call.

He would take every precaution for the next delve. They were going to practise and prep. But first, it was time to celebrate.

William took a deep breath of relief at the sight of the increasingly familiar pile of crooked stones. Three birds sat on top, happily chirping a late afternoon song and welcoming them through the gates of Nastall.

Two of the birds thumped on the dirt and the last one flew off. Rulu ran to pick them up. “Behold and be impressed! I have mastered the third eye, whilst you have wasted two days hauling a heavy box.”

William chuckled wryly at the smug aboleth. “Congratulations. Give yourself a big applause for me too. I would, but you know… heavy box.”

“Good job, Rulu.” Ember patted her