I jolt awake with sweat beading on my forehead, along with a terribly aching pain in my skull, on the soft bed, stale air flowing through my lungs as I breathe ragged and gasps through my raw throat for it, the numbing sensation still runs itself through the my body as my chest thrums with a quickly dampening pain. The clench in my throat slowly subsides slowly as I stare with a wavering sight up to the ceiling, my hand clutching at my chest and shirt. My mind feels so muddled, so foggy, what happened? Templar shenanigans, there was a fight, I got fucking zapped by magic, I thought I was meant to be resistant to magic? The pain in my skull flares up again, clutching at it with with my hands as I squeeze my eyes shut, that's a fucking pain in the ass. I groan and rub my temples tenderly, the pain eventually subdued as I look around the room. The walls are molded and gross. the carpet torn, I guess I'm back in the dream room, as if I needed more confirmation that I got knocked on my ass. I lay limply back onto the dream bed, despite the chill and the numb of my limbs, there's still a comforting warmth despite it all.

What am I doing here? I didn't think that being absolutely wrecked counted as going to sleep, but I guess it's similar enough mentally. How do I wake up beyond remembering a memory? Can I beat my head against a wall? Can I snap my fingers to wake myself up? I don't think I can force myself awake in this case anyways, whatever the hell I got smacked with is gonna make sure of that. I rest on the bed for a while longer before sighing, forcing myself to hop off of it and looking over myself. Still the same clothing I was wearing before the fight, I think that's something that's just naturally a part of this dream. Pfeh, natural my ass, I don't think there's anything 'natural' about a dream this vivid, especially when it causes so much pain to pry deeper. Everything's set in its usual place, desk to bookcase to locked up wardrobe, the journal I once left on the desk remains there at least, thankfully. I feel so sluggish, so drained as I limply grasp at the journal, my fingers numbly clutching at its cover before slumping onto the bed.

I run my hand over my face, closing my eyes and taking deep breaths, hurry up and focus your mind Zeke, at least as best you can. I hold the journal above me and glare at it with a grimace, what is the point of you, I wonder. Why are past memories of things that people said to me in a bloody journal to begin with? Why can't you just tell me, why can't I just remember whatever the fuck I did before coming here? The journal slips between my fingers, yelping as the cover of it smacks against my nose and obscures my vision. I huff and let my arms limply fall to my sides, not bothering to move the book off of my face. What's the point of it all anyways? My eyelids feel so heavy, holding them up feels so hard, a yawn escapes my lips, finally bringing up my hands and moving the book off of my face to rub at my eyes. I'm so tired, so sleepy, but I can't let myself fall deeper into the dream of my own sleep. I don't know enough about it to know if that's a good idea or not. Too tired to not sleep, too scared to actually sleep, an absolutely wonderful back and forth that exists to annoy me. Right, up and at 'em Zeke, get your body working, lets' see if there's anything in this room I might've missed.

I groan and force myself back to my feet, swinging my limbs left and right, stretching, slapping my hands against my face to get some feeling back in them. It works, only slightly, but it works, it's an extremely muted feeling but it's better than wondering if I'm putting my left foot in front of my right. I look over and around the room, taking my time to look over the corners and whatnot closely, even tearing at the already torn carpet to see if there's anything underneath. Only molded wood sadly, nothing else to wonder about. I feel the frustration mount in my mind and chest as I grip at my head, the dull throbbing pain returning a vengeance. Stupid dream, stupid books, stupid fucking me too. The dull throbbing evolves into a pulsating pain that runs itself through my skull and down my chest, I clutch and claw at my face and hair, hot and cold hot and cold. I drop to my knees and barely keep my face from plummeting into the damp floor with an upright arm, shaking and trembling, more painful with each passing second. Just as quickly as it comes, it passes by peacefully, the intense feelings dissipating almost instantly as my sweat drips down my face and onto the carpet, the droplets staining the floor further. What the fuck was that? Did they do something to my body in the real world? That's never happened before, then again, I don't think that anyone really knows how the hell this schtick is meant to work. I wipe away the remaining tears from my eyes as I rise to my feet, stumbling back into the wall for stability and continuing to stand up right. I'm dizzy, but I'm still alive, or at least alive-ish.

This dream blows ass, doesn't help that I can't catch a god damn break in any of these human towns, sure sometimes it's me that causes the issue for myself, like when Edward was taking me home, but I make up for it, we made up for it collectively actually. Other times it just happens though, tsk, pain in the ass. I grumble and take a seat onto the bed, flipping open the journal and shaking my head, don't have your eyes glaze over, Zeke. Is there a point to looking through this beyond following the unwritten mental rule I seem to have of this place? Look through the journal, smash my head against a memory book, anything else in between that seems like it's simple filler. I sigh and pinch my nose, landing myself onto a mostly empty page. What's special about this page then Zeke?

"..No, you don't understand at all. There's nothing beneath those lifeless eyes of yours is there?" The memory of Ashfords voice sends a shiver down my spine, filled with such remorse and hatred. I grimace and rub my thumb over that passage, thanks for reminding me that I was an unloving prick, I really needed it. Where would that old man have been taken, anyhow? The Templars don't seem like the type of people who'd treat him lightly, the accusation of being a traitor would've ruined that smithy's business and livelihood, the actual confirmation of one to a Templar?

I feel miserable holding this damned book, I already wanna toss this clump of paper away. I sigh and continue to flip to the next page anyways, biting down the growing discontent in my chest. I swear Ashford, I'll make it up to you somehow, maybe, I'm not going to promise something I can't keep to a man who won't hear it, kind of defeats the purpose. I guess there's the thought behind it, but I digress. Next page anyways, I'll just shove myself through this again and make it work, I hope there's no unwritten rule on how much I need to read, if I need to read any at all.

"Ya did good Rookie, ya did good." I blink, looking over the entry. Was that my Captain before I lost my memory? The womanizer? He did call me Rookie once, I think, what dream was that? Was that last dream or the dream before? Pfeh, dreams on dreams, trying to remember things is a pain, I don't think my ruptured memory helps with that. What do you remember anyways Zeke? Any actual useful bits of information, or just more garbage to drag you down? What's the point of trying to learn your past when you squander what information you do remember, you know that you've likely stabbed someone in the back, you thought as much with Roderick, why didn't you expect this to happen, why didn't you just move out of the way?

I swallow the uncomfortable feeling in my throat and close the journal shut, running a hand over my face and through my face fur.. I remember parts of my past and what I've done, that counts for something right? I know what Templar towers are, I know that I've always felt unnerved around them, even when I was a Templar myself. That Templar, I just didn't expect him to use magic, I don't know the limits of it, I didn't expect to get knocked on my ass either. I didn't want to maim or brutalise that man, I've done that enough and whatever reason he has to hate me has to be something else, right? Something I can't remember? Twisting the journal in my hands, I sigh to myself and stand up, throwing the dream diary onto the dirtied desk as I approach the bookcase. There's no point in being here any longer, and that wardrobe is worthless to me, I can only bite the bullet and run my head into a book. I reach around, feeling my fingertips on the spine of the books as I close my eyes, yanking at whatever one seems to reach out to me. I huff and frown as I tear into the pages, quickly glowing and thrashing out, I drop it onto the floor while I grit my teeth. I'll bare the pain however much it'll hurt, hurry up and finish your stupid flaffing, you waste of paper. I wait, and wait, and wait.

Nothing, there's no pain, the fluttering of the page reaches its crescendo and then stops, falling flat onto the carpet with no further movement. I stand stock still, patting myself down, I'm still here, I'm still in the dream. I lean down and pick up the book, its blank pages seem even duller than what I'm used to, though I flick through them anyways. The book seems so light, so fragile, where's the pain of being sucked into a memory? I yank at a page roughly in frustration, the thing tearing immediately and flying out of the book. I look up the floating page as it slowly drifts to the ground, staring at it with unblinking eyes. The book shakes and shudders in my hands before it crumbles, turning to dust in my hands. I finally remember to blink, clutching at the dust with my hands, but it falls to the ground despite my attempts to grasp at it, sinking into the carpet, the torn page following the same fate. I feel so cold, my legs shaking as I stumble away from the bookshelf, landing on my ass with my back against the side of the bed. What did I do? Why didn't it work, it worked the same every other time, what happened?

..Did I just delete some of my memory, an entire event within my mind, gone just like that? That's what those books are meant to be right? If that's gone, that means it's all gone? I feel so cold, shivering and bringing my knees to my chest as I look over the room, the walls of it seem so close and so confining than before. It's so hard to breath, I bite down on my jaw and wrap my cloak around me, hoping to a god that it does something to stave off the creeping chill. Why didn't it work Zeke? Why didn't it work, it was meant to work, how do I get out of here? I shiver and stand onto my wobbling feet, I can see my breaths forming in the suddenly freezing air, desperately clawing at my cloak to cover myself, my fur worth jack shit for being warm like normal. I feel a sense of despair form in my chest along with the chill, taking a running start and throwing myself into a wall, desperate for something to happen. I bounce off of the wall and onto my ass, much to my dismay. It's just a wall Zeke, what did you think would happen? Did you think it would magically open up and show you the way out of here? My teeth chatters as I stiffly move over to the bookcase, something's gotta be here right? I run my hands over the books, desperate to grasp at something, my hands slide off of the spines of the things as much as I try to grab at it.

A worthless endeavour, I move to the wardrobe, as stagnant and unmoving as ever, there's nothing I can get from this, stumbling back to the desk. I willingly throw my arm into the void, my mind clouded with the oppressive chill, there's nothing here either, there's nothing at all. I'm trapped here. I stand slowly with that realization, walking back to the bed and limply falling on top of it. What do I do here, do I just sleep? Will I wake up if I do sleep, or will it just pass the time? With a shuddering breath and some twisting and turning, I wrap myself in the blankets of the bed, the comforting warmth does little to soothe myself, it does little at all to battle the freeze. I squeeze my eyes shut and smother my face into the pillow. Just go to sleep Zeke, go to sleep and pray this ends.

..

I pace back and forth in the room, rubbing my hands roughly over my face, tugging at my hair and running them over my ears, repeating that process as I continue to move too and fro. I spice it up by walking in a circle, sometimes I smash my head against a wall to remind myself that I'm still stuck in here. The sleep did nothing, it did worse than nothing actually, the freeze and the tugging at my chest only hurts more so now. What are we doing here Zeke? Why do we subject ourselves to this, is this some sort of retribution for being a prick in the past?

I curse to myself as I continue my pacing, this isn't a curse by any means, this is an accident of disastrous repercussions, if I didn't get zapped I wouldn't be in this god damned situation, stuck in a dream that refuses to dissipate itself, and I can't remove it myself either. So what do we do Zeke, do we continue to waste our non-existent energy and time? It's our only choice really, we have to wait till someone else wakes us up. Consulting the books is a bust, they're as uncooperative as before, at least I'm used to the chill. I take a seat on the bed and claw at my face, scratching at the skin underneath the fur a slight bit too intensely, this place is getting to me. Stupid stupid stupid, gods, you promised Edward that you'd be more careful, and here you are in what's basically a coma. Edward, poor man, he'll have to drag my ass through the streets, I won't even fault him if he leaves me there this time.

...I've caused so much trouble for him, haven't I? The only person I know a decent bit in this god forsaken world and I'd call a close friend, and all I've been is a burden on him, he should just leave my ass in the dust, leave me with the Templars so they can burn my ass at the stake or whatever they do. What about money? Would they have a bounty on me, would Edward hand me in for it? I think he should, but...

He wouldn't do that, the stupid man, I've worried him so much, but he won't do that. I don't know if I'm meant to feel happy or sad about that. Stupid mess, stupid Zeke, stupid me, I shouldn't be here. I close my eyes and take in breaths, okay Zeke, that's enough, as much as you believe it, it's not a good use of time. I let out a heated huff as I feel a bitterness form in my chest, what's a good use of time when you're stuck in your own mind? I pull my knees to my chest as I rock myself, biting down on my lip, I can feel a coppery taste in my mouth as I do so. At least I can feel here. Another throb pulsates in my head, my eyes widen, I barely have enough time to clutch at it before it cranks itself, running itself through my skull and the rest of my body. It wracks my body, hot and cold hot and cold, what are they doing, what's going on? Why are they doing this again, are they doing this or am I doing this to myself? I grit my teeth and let it flow through my body, the pain turning into a red hot anger flooding my veins. Despite the throbbing in my head, I stand on shaky feet, a hand clawing at my face as I look up to the ceiling. Is this some sort of joke to you, some sort of sick jest? My spare hand clenches, my fingernails digging at my skin as the rage reaches a new height, I look down to it, then back to the roof. There's little hesitation, a desperation in my mind begging for anything to happen, I lean my head back and drive my face into my fist, I feel my bones crunch as a shattering noise filling my ears-

As I jolt awake, sweat beading down my drenched face as I take in the air, sweet crisp air, it has the disgusting taste of medicine, but there's a taste. I blink rapidly to clear my blurry vision and look around the room and over myself, I'm stuck in a bed, not my dream bed, an actual bed. Oh my god, I'm back, I'm in the real world! My head feels like a jackhammer's pounding itself into me, but I'm here! Elation fills my body, the elation leading to a joyous laughter, which quickly turns into a painful coughing fit. I slowly push down the coughing down and run a ragged breath through my lungs, it still feels raw, like my insides were lit up. I reach up and touch my face with a hand, the phantom pains of my own punch mutely rippling through my face, I can't believe that actually worked, I pulled that out of my ass because I was angry and pissed.

I look around the dark room, moonlight spilling into it, beds lined up against the walls with white sheets tucked in . Am I in a medicinal bay? It'd make sense if Edward dragged me somewhere, is this a Templar base of some kind? I grunt and grit my teeth, ignoring the pain in my muscles as I twist myself into a sitting position, slowly rising and stumbling onto my feet. A plain white gown cascades down my body, someone's changed me out of my regular clothes, that's not surprising but I do feel awkward about it. I slowly amble my way in the dark to the door, weakly grasping the handle and pulling it backwards, squinting my eyes and hissing as torch light burns my eyes. Maybe moving around so soon after waking up isn't the best idea, but I need to move.

I stumble my way to the next room, leaning against a wall as I look over it. Tables that's clear of people litter around the area, there's no one else here either. It faintly reminds me of the barracks Edward brought me too, once, though more organised. Alright Zeke, what's the plan? Find out what's going on, get your gear and leave? I'd like to do that, but I'd feel bad about leaving whoever's been taking care of me behind without a thanks. How long had I been asleep, anyways? Its' at least been a while, it is night after all. I walk towards the tables and examine the doors with squinted eyes, there's no markings on them, and even if there were, I don't think I'd understand them. Fantastic, stuck in an unknown building with nothing but the clothes on my back.

"Hello." A flat and expressionless voice calls out from behind me, twisting around to face them with a surprised yelp. A disturbingly large man stands upright, a surprising presence in the room, glad in a white and red robe with an expressionless face. His face is surprisingly young looking, with grey eyes that's focused intensely on me and short light brown hair on his head. When did he get there? I didn't even hear him, hurry up and respond Zeke.

"Oh, uh, sorry, I didn't hear you there sir. Do you know where I am? I only just woke up and I'm very confused to say the least." I respond to the stranger. He continues to stare and focus on me even as he approaches, I swallow the encroaching lump in my throat as I look up to him, dear god, hes fucking massive and his arm's the size of a god damned tree trunk.. He holds his hands up to me with a faint glow, a shivering and disturbing feeling runs up my body from foot to head, subsiding when he lowers his hands.

"You've sufficiently recovered, follow me." His tone is low and monotonous, giving me a small gesture to follow the man before twisting and marching off. I blink as the words process in my mind before hurriedly limping after him, wincing in pain with each step as my muscles strain to keep me up right. Couldn't have given me a cane or something huh, you meathead, or use some of that magic to actually help me. I grumble under my breath but remain resolved in following the burly stranger, looking side to side as we pass non-descript doors and hallways, I have no idea where the hell I am. You might be stumbling into your death, Zeke, be careful.

The stranger remains silent as he escorts me to wherever I'm going, at least he slows down at points to let me catch my breath and soothe my aching muscles. We finally come to a stop outside of a large looming wooden door, the stranger motioning his head towards the door.

"In." Is his only demand before taking his place nearly the door, standing upright and I assume taking guard. I look up to the man out of the corner of my eye as I grasp at the handle of the door, pushing it open and walking into it. The room itself is very spartan, the only furniture being a table at the very end of a room with two seats on either side as well as a singular torch illuminating the cold stony brick walls. There's a figure hunched over the desk at the end, their head flicking upwards to face me. It's a man, his face is rugged and littered with scars, even slicing into the eye patch he wears. His amber eye bores into me as he sits straight, deep black hair flowing backwards and to the side of his head as he runs an armoured hand through it before clasping them together on his desk, his lips are thin and pursed, armour a darkened silver hue in the flickering light.

"You've awakened, then, take a seat." He speaks, his voice is gruff and deep, fitting of his visage and figure as he motions with a hand towards the seat in front of him. I hurry myself to it, as fast as I can limp anyways, taking the offered seat. I look to him and suppress the rising tremor in my throat with a cough, my fingertips tapping against the desk.

"I must apologise for any, well, issues I may have caused lately, Sir, it wasn't my intent-" He silences my thick sounding apology with a raised hand, pursing my lips flat immediately. Jesus christ, I don't want to test him at all.

"I've already heard of what happened, your friend was very vocal about it. You go by Zeke now, correct?" He asks as he clasps his fingertips together again, looking to me over it. I don't speak but I do nod vigorously, I assume that he speaks of Edward. But, going by Zeke now? Does he know me?

"It's what I've always gone by, Sir. I don't recall much of my memory beyond a few weeks ago to be truthful, and Zeke is the name I've adopted because of it. Do you know me by any chance?" I feel nerves creep into my chest as I ask the man, tilting my head questioningly. Zeke you're trying to pry into a man who can crush your head between his hands-

"Mn, your friend said as much too when we asked about you. As loathe as I am to believe you, I sadly must give you some leeway about this. My troops have been punished for their actions, their ill will was no order of mine. As for knowing you, 'Zeke', we have worked together at some points, you were sullen, also a prick." He speaks in a level tone, though there is some aggravation in it towards the end. I sigh and lean on a hand, looking away from the man.

"Tsk, figured that much. Seems to be a running theme with whatever memories I do manage to crop up. For what it's worth, I really am sorry about it." I apologise weakly, scratching at the back of my neck awkwardly. Shit, being in the room as someone who knows who I am, who I have done wrong is worrying. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as worry grips me, I'm in a weakened state with a man who likely loathes my existence. I bite down on the inside of my cheek to subdue the feeling of worry as the man continues his permanent stare.

"Your words do little, but I suppose I'm grateful that you're not quite the person you once were." His reply does little to calm my beating heart, neither does his gloved fingers tapping on the wooden surface. Is he irritated, is he bored? What's he thinking?

"Is there an issue Sir?" I ask him as flatly as I can, trying to ignore his almost scathing stare. The question seems to bring him back to his senses, the intensity behind his eyes dying down.

"You bring up terrible memories, Zeke. You were a terrible person with little life behind your dull eyes, and looking at you now, it's as if you're an entirely different person. Tell me, do you know what it's like to see such a naive child with the face of a man you hate?" His tone is one of a cold fury, his eyes reflecting a sudden anger in it. My throat clenches as silence reigns in the room, the tapping of his fingers stopping suddenly. Fuck this was a terrible idea, Zeke how do we get out of here? There's the giant outside the door behind you with a man who wants your guts on the floor in front of you, you legitimately can't run to save your life, ohgodpleasen-

The frustrated growl of the leader in front of me brings me out of my thoughts, a clenched fist smashing at the table beneath us. I let out a small yelp and push myself away, the chair legs grinding against the floor, the mans' violent outburst disappearing as quickly as it appears, his face returning to an impassive neutrality.

"That, right there, is my point. You never would've held that fear in your eyes, you'd sooner break your face against someone else to try to take someone down with you, I've seen you do that." His voice is a low and angry growl, though even that quickly dies down. I purse my lips shut as the silence continues its dominance in the increasingly tense air, only slightly diffusing when the man lets out an aggravated sigh.

"You confuse me Zeke, but there's little we can do tonight. Your friend will likely be here at sun rise, so you best rest up." He speaks up finally with an authoritarian voice, standing to his full height, fuck he's tall as well, I've never felt so dwarfed continuously.

"Hey, do you mind if I ask a few questions beforehand? I just want some answers, if it's okay with you of course." I quickly pipe up and ask him, he hums in thought, but he does sit down to my surprise. I fully expected him to tell me to go to hell.

"I don't see the harm in it, I suppose. Ask away." He says after he seats himself, making eye contact and maintaining it. I awkwardly shift in my seat, it feels like the man's gaze is a contemptuous leer.

"Okay, so, where am I exactly? I figure I'm in a Templar base of some kind near a Templar tower, cause it feels like a hammer's being smashed into my head repeatedly." The mans' lips twitch upwards, he's full of surprises apparently. Actually, that might be because he likes the thought of that happening, ich.

"You're correct about that on both parts, you're in the Templar tower, to be specific." He explains. I nod along with him, I thought so, though there's never a harm in asking to confirm it.

"I think I recall something about that from a memory, that Templars live in these towers, though I don't remember anything else. Where is everyone else? I'm not sure about how Templars work, but I thought there'd be more around." He raises his eyebrow at that question, a small smirk on his face.

"It's late at night, there's very little who would still be up. I'm awake because I have to deal with the paperwork that's come up because of today. Kedrick, the man who escorted you here, is awake because it's his personal duty to look after whoever's in the infirmary, human or otherwise, he takes pride in it." Kedrick's the man who's been looking after me, huh? I'd like to thank him, but I also want to stab whoever kept trying to use magic on me. That reminds me actually.

"Speaking of that, who the hell kept zapping me? I could feel that even through being knocked out, and it stung like a bitch!" I basically demand an answer to the man in a slightly theatrical manner, huffing afterwards. He continues to tap his fingers against the table, humming in thought, a hint of suspicion.

"I'm surprised that you could feel anything Zeke. In truth, the clerics were trying to use healing magic on you to soothe what pain you might have, to heal whatever damage might have been done, and to figure out why you reacted the way you did. Doing so might have made it worse, though, you reacted as harshly to the magical examination. Your friend was very vocal about his dislike of what happened, but one of the visitors who came was more than slightly intrigued by it." He clarifies, that does answer the question of what was happening to my body. I thought basitin bodies were meant to be resistant to magic? Another question that I can't bloody answer, fantastic. What's the chances it was Lucy who was interested? It's more than a little high Zeke, she's weird.

"I don't know anything about why it happened, it just did, and it bloody hurt. What's your name Sir? I don't think you've mentioned it." I ask the man once more, I swear I'm gonna stop asking questions soon, don't smash my head open just yet. He does seem a little surprised, but the moment is brief, passing back into impassiveness soon after.

"My name is Captain Lucas, though I don't imagine why you'd need to know that." He replies, his tone as blank as his voice, it's unnerving, but he does seem like a very logical type of captain.

"Hey, it's nice to have a name to a face, don't you think? And it's better than just thinking of you as 'that captain dude', ya know?" I rebut with a small smile on my face, I truly believe it's at least polite to know a mans' name. Lucas doesn't seem to share the same thought, or at least, he doesn't let it show on his face

"Mn, I suppose not. Is there anything else you want to ask?" I shift awkwardly in my seat and bite my cheek again, there is another question I want to ask, and I hope he does answer cause I've been worrying about it non stop since the fight itself. Fairly sure Edward would kick my ass if I brought it up in front of him.

"Actually, there is one last question. Who was the one that put me into that bed, the one I was in a fight with? He didn't seem very happy with me, he acted like a borderline wild animal, no offence to him though. I didn't want to hurt him, I swear! I tried to talk him down." I feel my voice turn almost shrill at the end in an effort to defend myself, to give my side of the story at least, though I quieten it down with a cough afterwards. Lucas's body posture shifts slightly, though I can't tell much from it still, his face as stoney as ever. It's a better mask than Edwards, or maybe I'm just used to the way he thinks.

"You would be speaking of Alex, he is a.. Dear friend of mine, another man who you rubbed the wrong way when we met, he's always been tempermental. It's unfortunate that you happened to run into him, he's horrible to put down when he's riled up. Don't worry about that though, we'll get it all sorted tomorrow. If that's all, you best get to bed sooner rather than later." He finally finishes and stands upright, a bulb lights in my head. Shit, he knows who I was right? He'll know my name!

"Wait wait wait wait, please, I know I said that'll be my last question, but I need to know, what's my name?" I stand up with him and lean my hands onto the table, leaning into him with a desperate stare and a begging voice. He doesn't reply quickly, and I can hear his deep humming in my chest, my ears flicking with apprehension

"...I apologise, Zeke. While you likely had a name of your own, it was never spoken when we met, you never introduced yourself as anything other than a superior after all." He replies in an oddly melancholic tone. I sigh and bite my cheek again, pushing myself off of the table. That's a bloody disappointment

"Well, shit. It was worth a shot, thank you for all of the answers, and I'm still sorry about the whole thing." I give Lucas a small polite bow, disappointment and frustration brewing within my chest. I thought for sure he'd know my name at least. He could be lying, Zeke, he hates you after all, he could be lying to keep you down in the dirt.

"Your apologies are unneeded, but welcomed. You're dismissed, head back to your bed for a night." He says with a sense of finality in his tone, his arm swaying itself towards the door dismissively. I bow to him again before taking my leave, the door thudding shut behind me. I sigh to myself and rub my face. Another bust for your memory, maybe you shouldn't be shredding those books either.

"Follow." Kedrick instructs monotonically as he stiffly marches, back to the medical bay I guess. I blindly follow the man through the unfamiliar hallways and doors.

"Hey, Kedrick. Thank you for helping me tonight, duty or otherwise." I say to the back of his head, the imposing man doesn't stop his march, nor does he show any reaction to my words. I suppose he doesn't need to listen to me, but it's nice to thank him nonetheless.

"In." Another monotone instruction from the man as we finally approach the medical bay. I give him an appreciative nod before walking into the room. Despite being a medic, or a cleric, Kedrick is.. Rather unnerving to be around, I don't recall him saying anything beyond a few scarce words, can his face even make an expression beyond its blankness, is it magic or just him being able to control his face that well? I slip into the bed, a thick sense of weariness washing over me as my eyelids become heavier. I close my eyes shut as I sigh, despite the strange exhaustion, I don't imagine sleep would come to me easy tonight, and there's good reason to believe that isn't there Zeke?