In all honesty, I was surprised the nightmares had found her first, given the horrors and I were so very well-acquainted. Night terrors were no strange thing for me to witness…I was, unfortunately, intimately familiar with the affliction.
They had started when I was nine years old, dark and fractured memories wreaking havoc upon my young mind. I’d only started to overcome them around the age of thirteen—and only thanks to the careful guidance of my older brother, his patience, and his steady hand. He…Gods. I really didn’t like to think about him anymore, having compartmentalized most of those memories now tainted by pain and regret. But there were certain moments from our youth that remained pure, somehow. Untouched by the schism that had inevitably broken our bloodsworn bond.
And now my heart was aching again, grieving in more ways than one.
I pushed the thought from my mind to remain focused on Arken and her breathing, guiding by example with cycles of deep breaths in through the mouth, holding it for a few seconds, and then slowly expelling the air through our noses.
The tension locked up in Arken’s body was clearly beginning to ease up, but her eyes were still wide and frantic, her pupils so blown out I could only see the slightest glimmers of gold. As she released a final deep breath through her nose with me, her nostrils remained flared, and she was worrying at her lower lip with her teeth.
Clearly, she was still on edge. I only wished I’d managed to wake her sooner—it had taken me several minutes to rouse the poor thing after waking up to her thrashing around the bed, crying out in her sleep. We’d both been asleep for hours, and so I had to wonder…
Just how long did you spend with your daemons tonight, Little Conduit?
Arken ran herself through another breathing cycle, this time without needing to follow my lead. With my palm against her back, I felt the deep inhale straightening her spine.
“That’s a good girl,” I murmured quietly, pausing my gentle ministrations.
I reached over and pulled her sweat-dampened hair back from her neck, securing it with the thin leather cord I kept wrapped around my wrist. That shit would’ve driven her crazy in about three and a half more seconds, I just knew it. Arken and humidity did not get along.
“Keep breathing,” I instructed. “And next, I want you to name five things you can see in this room right now. Can you do that for me, sweetheart?
Still biting her lip, Arken nodded. Her voice was hoarse when she spoke, as if she’d been screaming in silence.
Fuck.I remembered that sensation all too well.
“I see…a stack of books,” Arken said shakily, and I nodded along, encouraging her to continue. “I see your black leather boots. I see three teacups, an old armoire, and…is that a necklace? It’s silver. There’s a bird skull on it.”
Ah. I’d nearly forgotten about that pendant. It had been hanging on a hook on the side of the armoire for so long I didn’t even see it when I walked past anymore, forgetting it was there. And that was for the best.
“It is, yes,” I answered, not wanting to be rude. “Now, can you tell me four things you can touch?”
Arken gave me a look that clearly said,I’m not a child, Vistarii, I don’t need to be placated like this.
But she did, actually. Whether she realized it or not, it was working. This exercise was grounding her, just as it had anchored me as a young boy.
Even after all these years, I could still recall my brother’s instructions perfectly. Night after night, he had walked me through them, always patient. He never judged me for my quivering cowardice, the way I had hidden in closets and spare rooms, trembling as I struggled to parse what was real and what should have been far too distant to ever hurt me again. My brother never pressed me, either—never demanded I explain what horrors haunted my dreams. He asked me just once…and then left well enough alone when I kept those secrets locked away, preferring them dead and buried. My brother was the one who had taught me there’s strength to be found in gentle kindness, and perhaps that was why it was stillhisvoice I heard in my head whenever I needed to retrieve these memories.
Five things you can see. Four things you can touch. Three things you can hear. Two things you can smell. One element you can summon.
Arken’s hand rose to her chest, rubbing small, self-soothing circles against her breastbone. “I can feel my chest. I can feel myself breathing.”
I nodded along as her hand dropped to the bed.
“I can feel the linen, perfectly worn…soft,” she murmured, stroking the sheets contentedly before peering back up at methrough her lashes. Her pupils had shrunk, exposing the glowing amber gaze I knew and loved.
Next, she raised her hand to my cheek. “And I can feel…you.”
That’s my girl.
I shifted myself closer to her before drawing her over to my lap, guiding her movements so her back was flush against my chest, her ass planted between my thighs, my arms encircling hers.
Arken sighed softly, leaning into me with ease as if she’d finally found safe harbor.
“I had nightmares all too often when I was young,” I confessed, resting my chin on the top of her head, rocking us both ever-so-slightly back and forth. Even before falling into bed with her, I had observed that Arken often found her peace in repetitive motion.
“Did you?” she asked gently. “What about?”
“Mmm, that’s a story for another day, Little Conduit,” I murmured. “Can you tell me three things you can hear?”