Page 3886 -- CCCXIV.

Chapter Three Hundred Fourteen: ‘The raging calm...’
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Zeff hadn’t felt this persistently angry in a long time. Which was really saying something, he knew.

As he stomped rapidly toward Graves’ designated guest chamber in their floating encampment, he tried to focus on not losing his cool again. Their last couple of conversations had not been terribly productive or insightful. And if Graves didn’t wish to talk, then they would simply not talk.

The man was holding all the cards, right now, after all. Berating him wasn’t going to accomplish anything.

Nor would attacking him, of course, even if Zeff was reconsidering that option more and more with each passing day.

He just knew that this couldn’t continue. Something had to be done. And apparently, he would have to be the one to do it, because everyone else was obviously not thinking clearly.

Argh. Just when he’d received the so-called “soul compass” from the Black Artisan, too. He’d been hoping to set out immediately in search of Cisco, but then everything went utterly mad, and now he simply couldn’t leave his kin here, completely at Graves’ mercy.

Though, he was beginning to wonder what staying was even accomplishing, either. If he couldn’t persuade Graves to let them all go, then what else was he supposed to do? He’d witnessed more than enough of the Pale Hawk’s power by now to know how little agency he had in this situation, regardless of whatever this “Supreme Will” was that he supposedly possessed.

He couldn’t help thinking that Gohvis had tried to warn him about this. And he’d been too stubborn to listen, as usual.

But what else could he have done? Taken the Monster of the East at his word? Entrusted his kin to that bastard instead of this one?

That didn’t seem like it would’ve worked out any better, but who knows?

Impossible choices. Maddening. Doubly so, when he thought about the fact that, somehow, both of them had been able to tempt him with the promise of meeting one of his missing daughters.

Quirks of fate, he thought. Coincidental or cruel? Lhutwë toying with him? Or trying to tell him something? Someone else, maybe?

It was weighing on him. Making him reevaluate things. Maybe even everything. His entire worldview.

As he neared Graves’ room, he slowed his pace to try and steady himself again. A minute or so of meditation wouldn’t hurt, he felt.

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Thanks for reading, everyone. Happy 4th of July.

Page 3885

“And there were no problems?” said Lord Zeff.

Raul didn’t understand why he was asking that. “No, lord. What problems might there be? These poor guys are all out cold. Literally.”

“You didn’t feel any strangeness?” the man said, still eyeing Raul with that characteristic intensity. “Dizziness? Headaches? Gaps in memory?”

Raul blinked a couple times. He felt the need to be more direct now. “Why are you asking that?”

The Lord Elroy exhaled a heavy sigh. “You’ve forgotten again. I told you before. And you’ll forget this, too, I’m sure.” His expression twisted, and he released Raul from his gaze. “Bastard...”

Raul was entirely lost. He looked to his brothers, but they their faces spoke of equal confusion. “Lord? What are you...? Did I do something wrong?”

“Not you.” Then Lord Zeff patted him on the shoulder. “In fact, you have been doing great work, Raul. Keep it up.”

And then without even waiting for a response, the man left.

Raul could only watch with a strained expression as he watched Lord Zeff go. Such odd behavior. It was growing worrisome. Forgetting things? How could he have forgotten anything? Especially when he had so many people around to remind him?

He didn’t dare broach the subject outright with anyone, but in the back of his mind, Raul was beginning to feel that most pernicious of fears that all servants felt.

The fear of insanity.

Not for himself, of course, but for Lord Zeff. Granted, Raul did not actually know him all that well, so perhaps this type of behavior was not entirely out-of-character for him, but it was concerning, nonetheless.

And it would make a terrifying degree of sense, unfortunately. With how much pressure the man seemed to be under. The weight of everyone’s expectations? Along with all the turmoil that he had endured? Everyone here had been through so much in the recent months, and while it wasn’t a contest, it did seem like the Lord Elroy had gotten it the worst out of all of them.

Or if not the worst, then damn close to it.

And there were countless stories about servants breaking under such circumstances.

Raul dreaded to even think about it further. Everyone was depending on the Lord Elroy, right now. Looking to him for guidance. He wondered if they didn’t see what Raul was seeing.

If that man actually broke...

At this point, Raul couldn’t even imagine what that would do to their brethren.