Keep Trying

26th day of the 6th moon, 1162 HC

He's shaken awake, "Mulsae."

He bolts up. It's only ever danger when someone tries to wake him up. He relaxes a bit, when he sees its Nori. Then his stomach clenches because Nori has never woken him up, either. It must be important.

"Do you ever sleep?" He blinks away the last dregs of his sleep.

"No." Nori continues in her normal emotionless tone, "A spy report has just landed on Riko's desk that details who Garrick's human is. They've listed Hanna Linwood and Ellara Fellmark as her aliases."

"Oh fuck." He sits up and puts his head in his hand. The poor woman. Fuck.

Mulsae looks up, "How is the report written? Ellara is her real name. Can her real name be removed?"

Nori crosses her arms and bows her head while she thinks. "Actually," she raises her head, "It might be straight forward. The spy wrote both the real name and his whole ordeal uncovering it on a separate page. I could just remove that page from his report."

"Do it. Try to alter the report. We can't do anything for Garrick, but perhaps we can keep Zudaeshi off the poor woman's heels."

Nori simply nods and departs through the bathing chamber where her walk-through mirror is located.

Next to him, Damion shifts under the blankets. Mulsae turns and slides down beside him, burying his face in the pillow. The quiet stretches.

"She's going to bring him in soon," he mumbles into the fabric, "I don't want to break Garrick."

Damion's voice is low, steady, "But you need to keep Her eyes off your people."

Mulsae echoes the words, "But I need to keep Her eyes off my people." He is the Master of the Water Sanctum. This is what he was born for. Protection, not peace.

He stares at the ceiling, eyes open in the dark. "I regret what I did to you."

"I know."

A silence, softer this time. "But maybe I needed someone like you," he murmurs. "Someone to cut through the haze. Someone to sober me from the taste of power."

Damion breathes slowly beside him, but says nothing. Mulsae closes his eyes. He doesn't expect forgiveness.

Then Damion speaks, quiet but clear, "You're trying to be someone I wouldn't have had to suffer for. I appreciate that you try. Please... keep trying."

Mulsae swallows. His thoughts curl like mist across still water. How do I honor him while still playing Her blade? How do I shield my Sanctum's people while sharpening myself for Her hand? How do I make peace with his pain... while living a life that keeps making more of it?

"I'll keep trying," Mulsae places a hand on Damion's, "Please help me stay focused."