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“Nothing,” Glenda stated firmly. “Everything has been easier since you were taken. The bandits stationed here rotate once a week, but they tend to leave everyone alone. Your father finally came to an agreement with them, and we received some supplies, proper food, and even medicine.”

Lowering her head to look down at her hands, Linh fidgeted with her fingers. She picked at the sides of her clean fingernails, then twisted and scratched at a finger when it suddenly felt itchy.

“I’m sorry,” Glenda stated, her tone quieter and low. “That’s likely something you don’t want to hear.”

With her eyes closed, Linh shone a dead smile at her. “That’s not true at all. I’m thankful things got easier for everyone after I left.”

“You and I both know that’s a lie. Nothing should have been a cost for your freedom,” Glenda bit out, sitting back in her wooden chair and sinking into the light. “But Bragg was right. The moment you were taken, your father lost much of his will to fight back in fear he’d hurt you.”

“He did hurt me,” Linh quietly muttered, looking at the wall her bed was pressed against.

The silence shared between them was heavy, clogging, and cruel. The unspoken statement was in the air, even if Linh didn’t truly wish to utter what she’d suffered.

“I’m sorry. I know it must have–”

“Don’t. Please don’t,” Linh rushed out, digging her nails into her arm. Tears instantly welled. “I want to forget.”

“I guess we should just be thankful you’re alive. That’s all that matters?” Glenda asked, her question more a way to check if her response suited Linh.

She was sure it was awkward to talk about this. How could anyone give a suitable response when it could never change what happened?

“I’m alive, and I’m home.” Linh washome.

So why did it feel weird being back in her village? Sure, it wasn’t her bed, but she’d worked in the infirmary. She often helped her mother with tending to patients. The room she was in was situated on the top level for ultimate privacy and was one of the biggest and well cared for.

It should be comforting to be here. The sound of the villagers outside should be soothing, so why did their cheer or noises feel strange? She used to love waking up in the morning to bright sunshine, birds chirping, and lively people who were flourishing.

Instead, a swallowing pit of reality made its way into her heart. While Linh was suffering, at the exact same time, the world kept moving. People still laughed, embraced their friends or loved ones, and got to experience life in the ways she’d missed. They ate delicious food, slept in soft beds, and they may have done so at the same time she was weeping.

It felt like a cruel joke.

She dug her nails deeper.I miss Nathair.

She missed the quietness of his cave, and how his entire body blocked out everything except for his radiant heartbeat. She missed the abnormality of his life, his environment.

I wish I had woken up in his arms,she thought, as a singular tear slipped down her cheek. Hopefully with her head down, Glenda couldn’t see.

The Priests and Priestess were always considered hard. People often thought they were emotionless with how they reacted to others.

Linh needed that now more than ever. If her serpent rock couldn’t be here right now, she needed Glenda to at least be a hard pebble. Something that sat in her shoe and annoyed her, rather than embraced her with words that only trickled more pain into her heart.

Grunting beneath her mask awkwardly, Glenda folded her hands on her lap and stiffened her back. “There is already chatter that if you’re taken again, the entire village will riot. They want you home, and the bandits are wary now that you’re back. They’ve been acting out of sorts since.”

Linh bit her lips so hard she feared she’d draw blood. “Have... have any of them left to go tell Bragg?”

She didn’t want to admit it, but she was kind of... scared that she was home. She hadn’t wanted to come back here without a solution.

I don’t want to be taken again.

She also didn’t want to be the cause of exactly what they were threatening: a riot. If a fight broke out and a thick blood scent fluttered into the air, many Demons would come. Two or so a night were relatively easy to fight off with all their fortifications, but a swarm would just be a death sentence for everyone she’d ever known and loved.

“No. We don’t believe Bragg is aware,” Glenda answered. “Any time one of them tried to leave, the Duskwalker hissed and growled until they went back inside the gate.”

Her face shot up as hope bled into her veins. “He’s still here?”

She’d been so worried about asking, but there just didn’t seem to be a good time to insert her question until now.

“I don’t know if that’s a good thing or not,” Glenda stated with a sigh behind her mask. “The leader of our guild tried to makeit leave, but it’s refused. I don’t know how I feel about it either. It’s selfish of me, I know, and I’m really sorry, but I’m glad it’s stayed. I feel like the Duskwalker is the only thing keeping the bandits from leaving to tell Bragg you’re here.”