Chapter 81: Black and White
I should have slept late. My overexertion the previous night left me exhausted, with hardly a drop of mana when I drifted off in Soltair’s arms. Weakness gnawed at me, from the tips of my horns down to my toes. Even worse was the dull ache that emanated from the core of my soul, the constant reminder of the toll of abusing my mana.
Despite the inviting warmth of the soft cotton sheets, an insistent pull tugged me from their embrace, leading me downstairs into the inn’s dimly lit interior. The common room was abandoned, save for my two companions. The curtains were drawn and door locked, sending a small frown creeping across my lips. What was going on here?
Soltair’s gaze lifted to meet mine, his expression etched with a frown that echoed in the stern timbre of his voice. "Shouldn’t you be in bed?" I nodded and slid into a seat, having asked myself the same thing several times.
"How many are left?" I asked, massaging my temples. A slight headache muddled my thoughts, but I ignored the pain, focusing on the hordes of statues filling my memory. I could still save them.
He sighed and set his mug down, looking over the table at me. "I don’t think it’s a good idea to go back there today. Every minute we delay hunting that monster down another person might get hurt. We need you to support us against the Basilisk’s magic, but you can’t do that if you waste all your mana breaking the curses."
"Besides," Trithe cut in before I could protest, "They’ll be here when we get back. What are they going to do, walk away?"
"But, I-"
"Trust us." Soltair’s hand landed on my shoulder, prompting me to look up into his eyes. "Just stay here until we leave."
I squirmed, internally wrestling with my discomfort, but in the end, I couldn’t fight them any longer. "Alright." Not that I had a choice to begin with, when he worded it that way.