‘I have no idea where your sword is.’ returned Pio. She put her hand upon her belly to quiet the babies, distraught at their mother’s headache. She was nine months along, three more to go. Her focus had narrowed to the return of her husband, Mithadan. And the coming of her old friends to celebrate the birth of the twins. ‘If you are able, good Sir, I suggest you look for it yourself.’
She longed to be away from here. Away from the daily responsibilities of this place. She had never intended to stay this long. She clung to the thought that Mithadan was on his way to her . . .
She was tired, and sad. For she knew that soon after the birth, Cami would be gone. She would lose her forever this time. To her task and to time.
Pio returned her attention to the person before her. She had lived so long and he so little. ‘The Inn is safe. As long as I stand within it.’ She stood, knowing that the daily, ordinary business of this place called to her, and made her way to the door.
‘Rest as you need, Erdaminéon. No ill dreams will find purchase here.’ She paused as she stepped through the door. ‘You cannot run forever. For good or ill, you must face your doom and master it.’
She closed the door behind her, leaving him to the mercy of his own thoughts.
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Eldest, that’s what I am . . . I knew the dark under the stars when it was fearless - before the Dark Lord came from Outside.
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