The Sage's Vow

17.1 || The Wasted Strip

TZANACH GAVE THEM two more days before she declared their stay at its end. Their bonds were stable, and Cale had rested enough that using his magic shouldn't be a risk if he wasn't reckless. He didn't anticipate having to form and hold together an earthen barrier between realms again anytime soon, though.

He checked that both of his blades were secure in their sheaths. After that, he was done. When the pocket dimension shattered, it threw his supplies far away from him. All he had was what he wore and his swords.

Mara 'packed' with the same efficiency, sliding the daggers she kept with her into their spots. Noticing his attention, she glanced up and smiled.

Cale swallowed back his spark of worry and returned it. Dark bags hung heavy under her eyes. She hadn't slept well since waking up. Every night he stirred awake to find her tossing in her sleep, and some days he'd find her laid out on the ground, staring at the ceiling absently in a way that differed from when speaking with one's dragon.

When he asked her about it, she dismissed him, but he could guess what plagued her. Guilt slithered from the depth of his mind as he recalled his own lie. Despite disposing of the man's body before she woke up, he knew she suspected what had happened.

Cale, on principle, wasn't a liar. Lies led nowhere. The ones meant to protect yourself led to worse consequences, and the ones meant to protect others, he thought, only hurt them more in the end. He hadn't moved the corpse so that Mara wouldn't see it, but because he didn't want to, either. But when she'd asked about it, and he had seen the brokenness that she tried her best to hide behind the casual question...

Cale wasn't a liar, but he had lied to protect her. And he had obviously failed. The ghost of that man still haunted her. Did he come clean to comfort her? Here was yet another reason to never lie. It made things more complicated. If only she would open up to him, but what did he expect? With matters of her own guilt, Mara always built barriers and retreated inward.

She is not alone, little pebble, Ezraim said. Kidron is there with her, and he will help her in any way he can. You know this.

Pressing his lips together, Cale wrenched his gaze away from Mara and over to Tzanach. The Elder Dragon paced in circles under the light filtering through the hole above. I know that, he said.

Ezraim sighed. Yet here you are, continuing to shoulder the guilt.

I am simply lamenting the troublesome nature of lying.

I will admit, I agree with you that lying holds very few benefits. Unless you plan on telling her the truth, what do you gain drowning in these wonderings?

Cale said nothing. His brain spun, crafting too many thoughts, yet none at all. He crossed his arms and clenched his jaw.

I know. Ezraim channeled his presence, offering what comfort he could. You cannot control the frustration at your lack of ability to do anything. But trust Mara. She will speak when she is ready, and we both know you will be there in whatever ways you can be until then.

Yes, he would be. That didn't stop him from wanting to revive the dead man just to punch him for the trouble he'd caused.

Tzanach ceased pacing and veered her head toward him and Mara. Alright. The sun sets soon, and the cloud cover should be sufficient. I believe we will be protected from any wandering eyes. At least, if any were to see us, they wouldn't spot you two on my back.

Cale took a deep, steadying breath and walked over. Tzanach was smaller than Ezraim, especially when she crouched down, but he still had a harder time climbing onto her back. Muscle memory tried to direct his hands and feet to the wrong spots. Finally, though, he nestled between her shoulders.