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Chapter Text

He thought he was hallucinating when he first heard their voices, assumed that repeated blows to the head had knocked something loose or that this was his mind’s desperate attempt to make what were likely his last moments a little more tolerable. But when the voices got louder, came nearer, he somehow found the strength to lift his pounding head and look up with his one good eye, the other swollen shut and pulsing with pain.

The hallucinations were worse than he thought, because he couldn’t just hear them, he could see them. Their forms swam in and out of focus as he tried to blink his eye into cooperation, but there was no mistaking the seven figures that had stepped into the chamber and were now talking to his captors. He knew they weren’t real, that there was no way they could be here, but still his chest suddenly ached in a way that had nothing to do with bruises or broken ribs. He wanted so desperately for them to be actually there, to be able to see them just one more time, even if all they had for him now was contempt.

In the end, he really hadn’t put up much of a fight. For all his power and talent, he was still a scholar, not a soldier. He wasn’t cut out for this, and his skin prickled with shame to think of how easily they had overpowered him. Not that anyone would ever know, because they’d killed everyone else, most in the fight, and the rest one by one in some kind of ritual. He knew he should have been trying to find out what they were doing, but he couldn’t see very well and his ears were still ringing, and stringing together coherent thoughts was becoming increasingly impossible. Another sign of weakness; he really would have thought he could last longer than this before losing his mind. It couldn’t have been much longer than a few hours.

He didn’t know why they had left him alive. He almost wished they hadn’t. Out of everyone in the expedition, surely none deserved that fate more than he would have. It wasn’t as though he wanted to die, of course – in fact, being on the precipice this way, he was more terrified of it than ever. But he couldn’t deny he deserved it. After all he had done, he deserved worse. Maybe that was why he was still alive, maybe whatever they had in store for him would be worse.

There was a long conversation taking place between his captors and the people he hesitated to call his friends, most of which he could not follow, because thinking still felt like wading through tar and he couldn’t hold his head up for very long at a time and what did it matter what the hallucinations were saying, at any rate? There were more pressing things to occupy his attention, various points of pain on his body, his clothes sticking to the wounds where their blades had cut him, bruises blooming where he had been struck and kicked and thrown against the wall. No matter how many times he spit it out, his mouth was full of blood, thick and metallic on his tongue.

And he was so cold. They had stripped off nearly all of his clothing, leaving him with nothing but boots, trousers and his thin undershirt against the frigid temperatures of subterranean Eiselcross, which only seemed to get colder the deeper they went – which made no thermodynamic sense so it must have been a part of the magic of the ruins. He constantly had to grit his teeth to keep them from chattering and the metal of the chains burned cold against his bare wrists. He was half glad of the chill of the floor beneath him, because it had made his legs so numb that it significantly dulled the pain of his bruised knees scraping against the stone.

After an indeterminate amount of time, he heard movement and painfully looked up again, just in time to see his captors leaving. He wondered whether they had forgotten about him, or purposefully left him to die slowly. The hallucinations, at least, were still here to keep him company. He slumped back down, leaning forward as much as the chains would allow him, grimacing as the cold metal bit into his flesh.

“Oh my gosh, is that Essek??” The first time he could actually make out what any of them were saying, in a voice he was most used to hearing in his mind. Jester.

Hurried footsteps approached, maybe more than one person, he was too tired to look. Then he felt the heat of a body next to him and the unmistakable weight of a hand on his shoulder and he finally realised that it was real, that they were somehow actually here. Too stunned to react, to do anything but hang there, he felt two fingers on his throat, fumbling for a pulse, almost burning hot against his chilled skin.

“Is he okay?” Jester asked, closer now.

“He’s alive,” said Beauregard right next to him, “but he’s freezing cold.” There was a clink of chains above him and he felt a tug on his wrists. “Veth, it’s locked, can you give me a hand?”

He felt like he could barely draw a breath before his arms were suddenly free and he fell forward, pain shooting through his hands and wrists as he caught himself against the floor, oozing wounds bleeding in earnest again as blood rushed back into his arms. Pull yourself together, he thought. Don’t let them see your weakness. He pushed himself up, wiped the blood from his mouth on the back of his hand and looked around.

The Mighty Nein were staring at him like an Empire soldier at a purple worm. He tried and failed not to look for Caleb among them; he was the only one looking away. Beauregard and Nott – Veth now, he supposed – were on his either side. He didn’t see his belongings anywhere.

“Has anyone seen my spellcasting focus?” he asked as neutrally as he could. His throat felt raw.

Fjord looked around. “I think they might have taken your stuff,” he said.

“Oh man, Essek, I’m so sorry!” Jester exclaimed. “We didn’t realise it was you! What are you even doing here?”

Essek forced his numb legs into motion and pushed to his feet. “It’s fine,” he half gasped, trying to catch his breath as the chamber span around him. “We should leave. It’s dangerous here.”

Caduceus took half a step towards him, raising a hand warningly. “Whoah, hey, you might want to sit back down. You don’t look so good.”

“I will be fine,” Essek said. He managed a whole four and a half steps towards the exit before his legs gave out and he collapsed, narrowly saved from hitting the floor full force by Beauregard’s quick reflexes.

“It’s usually a good idea to listen to Cad,” she said as she lowered him back to the ground. “You look like shit.”

Caduceus came over and knelt next to him. “Take it easy, yeah?” he said. “This should take the edge off.” He placed a large, soft hand on Essek’s brow and the warm tingle of healing magic spread out from his palm. The next time Essek blinked, he could open both eyes again.

“It isn’t much,” said Caduceus apologetically, “but I’m almost out of everything.”

The healing spell spread through his body, soothing over the most acute pain, and the more his pounding heart slowed, the faster his mind raced. He had thought he was going to die, he had thought he deserved to die, everyone else was dead and he’d done next to nothing to stop it, the Mighty Nein were here, he was going to live, they had barely spoken to him since they found out,  they probably hated him, Caleb was here, Caleb must have hated him most of all, he couldn’t believe he wasn’t dead, he shouldn’t care this much, why were they being so nice to him when they had every reason to hate him, were they going to kill him for what he did, if they killed him here no one would ever know, was that why they were here, he was so happy to see them, why wouldn’t Caleb look at him? He had imagined this reunion a thousand times and a thousand ways, but he had never expected this, for Caleb to just stand there, arms crossed, expression inscrutable. Not even angry, just… indifferent.

Jester appeared on Essek’s other side, holding a large green cloak, which she draped over his shoulders. “Here, you must be freezing.”

Her kindness and his indifference and all of it was too much. Essek looked at the floor, feeling his body start to tremble, then shake. His vision blurred and he realised there were tears in his eyes. He couldn’t even remember when he had last cried, didn’t really understand what it meant, just knew that something inside in him had snapped and his control was slipping. He didn’t want them to see him like this, hated the idea of having to rely on their help and their goodwill, but composure had never been so far out of reach.

Beside him, Caduceus addressed his friends. “Can everyone please go see that we’re safe here and look for Essek’s things? We’re going to need a moment.” After a pause of receding footsteps, he glanced up and added, ”You too, Caleb.”

Essek looked up just in time to see Caleb walking away. He tried to exhale but what came out was more like a sob. He hugged his legs close to his chest and curled into Jester’s cloak and gave in to the despair.

Caduceus wrapped his arms around him and pulled him into a tight hug, impossibly warm against his frigid body. “You’re okay,” he said calmly, “you’re safe now.”

It only made him cry that much harder because after all the pain he’d caused he didn’t deserve to be safe, and he certainly wasn’t okay and doubted he ever would be again.

“Cry as much as you need to,” said Caduceus. “Plenty of room for tears in this world. You’ve had a really rough day and it’s good to let yourself feel your feelings. But they’re going to pass, you’re not going to feel like this forever.”

They stayed there for an indeterminate amount of time, during which Essek tried to stop crying and couldn’t, and then tried to let go and pull away from the hug and couldn’t do that, either. Eventually, Caduceus said, “The others are coming back, so I’m going to cast a spell that will help you calm down. There will be time to talk about it later, but right now we need to get you somewhere warm. Is that okay?”

Essek nodded feebly, and didn’t resist the spell when it came. Immediately, he felt is mind go strangely numb and he couldn’t feel much of anything anymore. Just tired beyond imagination. It was an immense relief and decidedly a spell he needed to learn as soon as possible. He finally pulled away, wiping his eyes.

“Thank you,” he said. “I’m sorry.”

“What are friends for,” Caduceus replied simply.

Beauregard and Yasha were the first to return. “Couldn’t find any of your stuff,” said Beau. She looked at Caduceus. “He going to be okay?”

“I’m fine,” Essek said.

“I’m worried about his temperature,” said Caduceus. “He’s been in the cold too long.”

“I am right here, you know,” Essek protested, albeit without much enthusiasm.

The rest of them returned eventually, all empty-handed, Caleb bringing up the rear. He still wouldn’t look at Essek, and he couldn’t have thanked Caduceus enough that right now all he felt was increasingly sleepy. He had to fight the urge to just lay down where he was and close his eyes for a moment.

“Caleb, we need somewhere warm. Can you make the tower?” asked Beauregard.

“Ja, I can,” said Caleb, “but not here. Let’s get back to the surface so Dagen can join us.”

“Can he walk?” asked Veth, gesturing at Essek.

“Yes,” he replied.

“See, that’s what you said last time and then you fell right over,” Veth said.

“Don’t be mean, Veth, he’s really hurt,” said Jester.

“We’re really hurt all the time and we can still walk,” Veth argued.

“Well, maybe he’s used to floating,” Yasha offered. “Maybe he doesn’t remember how to walk.”

“Then why doesn’t he float?” Veth demanded.

Essek cleared his throat. “In terms of magic,” he said, “I am afraid I’m all out.”

“Me too,” said Jester. “Let’s just go so Caleb can make the tower and we can get some hot cocoa and make a big pile with all the kitties and just snuggle together until Essek is all warm again!”

“A big pile of cats sounds somewhat disconcerting,” said Essek, “but I agree we should go. These ruins are more sinister than they look.” He accepted Caduceus’s outheld arm and pulled himself to his feet. His legs felt even more unsteady than before. “On second thought,” he admitted, “I can’t really feel my legs at the moment.”

“I can just carry you,” Yasha offered. “I carry Beau all the time.”

Ordinarily he would have argued against the indignity, but he was just so tired. “Thank you.”

Yasha picked him up like he weighed nothing and held him in her arms like a baby, which was actually absurdly comfortable. His eyes threatened to drift closed.

“Try not to fall asleep,” Caduceus cautioned.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Essek replied drowsily.

When he woke, or perhaps came to, he was rather unceremoniously slung across Yasha’s shoulder and tiny ice particles were mercilessly whipping into his face in the blowing wind.

“This should be fine!” a gruff voice he didn’t recognise shouted over the gale.

There was a moment of activity during which he tried to wriggle around so he could see what was happening, but Yasha’s grip on his legs was too tight and she didn’t even seem to notice he was awake. Then she stepped forward, and the snowstorm changed abruptly into a warm, golden light.

“Oh, hey, Essek’s awake,” said Beauregard somewhere to his right.

Yasha finally released her death-grip and somewhat awkwardly placed him on his feet.

“Welcome,” said Caleb quietly, addressing for him for the first time since they had found him, “to the Nein-Sided Tower.”

“Widogast’s Nascent Nein-Sided Tower,” Veth corrected. “You have good branding, you should use it.”

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

Essek leaned back against the door and exhaled slowly, letting his eyes fall closed. He didn’t remember ever being quite so exhausted, and there was not an inch of his body that didn’t ache. Still, at least he was warm now, and the uncontrollable shivers were finally subsiding. All he had to do now was somehow find the energy to get out of Jester’s borrowed cloak and his torn and bloodied clothes and crawl into bed. It was days like these that made him envy the lesser races for the way they slept; he could have done with an eight-hour break from existence.

Days like these? There had never been a day like this. And it seemed to have gone on forever. The evening alone felt like it had lasted days.

He had somehow kept it together, Caduceus's calming spell long worn off, as Caleb had demonstrated the use of his clever arcane lift and led them up into the dizzying three-tiered library, with soft sofas and a lit fireplace, impossibly warm. Before he hardly knew what was happening, Essek had been seated by the fire, covered with several blankets and handed a steaming cup of tea by, inexplicably, a cat, which he immediately spilled because of how much his hands were shaking.

Surrounded by the undivided and uncomfortable attention of the entire Mighty Nein, he had sat there, staring blankly into the fire, afraid to say anything for fear of breaking apart again. The rugged dwarf, introduced to him as Dagon or Dagen or possibly Daggen, largely ignored by all, had made himself comfortable on one of the sofas and fallen asleep.

There was general chatter, most of which passed over Essek’s head, until Beau addressed him directly. “So, what the fuck are you doing here, actually?” There was a sharp edge to her voice.

Essek closed his eyes for a moment, willing himself to be calm. “I was part of an expedition, tasked with exploring the ruins of Aeor.”

“It seems like a mighty big coincidence that we find you all the way out here,” said Fjord.

“Yeah, we’ve never heard you talk about Aeor before,” Veth chimed in.

“Why are you suddenly so interested?” Beau demanded.

Why are you? He swallowed the question and said, instead, “The Dynasty has carried out research expeditions on Eiselcross for decades. I volunteered, because–” the truth was bitter on his tongue but he forced himself to say it “–I no longer felt safe in Rosohna. I do not have many allies.”

“Some would say you don’t have any,” said Beau quietly. It was odd how much that hurt, considering it was precisely what he had expected. Why should they trust him?

There was a drawn-out silence. Still shivering violently, Essek was as cold as he had ever been, but his palms were beginning to sweat. “I apologise for interrupting… whatever it is that you are doing here,” he said tautly.

“Oh my gosh, Essek,” Jester exclaimed, “so much has happened since we saw you. We went to Travellercon on Rumblecusp and fought Avocado who was a god that wasn’t really a god and then we found out he was stealing people’s memories and he lived in a volcano! And then we all had this vision of this really really scary city in the astral plane and then Beau figured out that–”

Most of Jester’s story, as well as the interjections from the others, were lost on him. He kept staring into the fire and the pounding in his ears seemed to get louder and louder until he could barely even hear what any of them were saying. Under the blankets, his hands clenched into fists, and all the while the relentless barrage of information continued, sprinkled with names like “Nonagon” and “the Tombtakers” and “Vess DeRogna” and he knew it wasn’t just interesting, it was vitally important and potentially changed everything, but at the same time he couldn’t keep up, couldn’t see the whole of it. He was warmer now, but still shaking, and he could feel his composure beginning to crack, and then he suddenly found himself looking at Caduceus in some kind of wordless plea for help.

Praise the Luxon, Caduceus seemed to pick up on his despair almost instantly. “I think we could all use a hot meal and a good night of sleep,” he said. “There’s plenty of time to talk about this tomorrow, when we’ve rested.”

“I am really hungry, at least” said Yasha, who had been silent for most of the conversation.

“Sorry, of course,” said Caleb. He called to one of the many cats lounging around the room and then spoke to it quickly in Zemnian. “Dinner will be served shortly,” he then addressed the group. “I have asked them to deliver it here, so that we can stay by the fire.”

Within fifteen minutes, they were surrounded by a feast of staggering size and variety, which served as sufficient distraction that the rest of the evening passed much more tolerably. Not having much of an appetite, Essek only managed to eat a little, but everything he tasted was warm and filling and he dutifully drank the entire mug of tea that Caduceus handed to him once his shaking began to subside.

Once Jester was asking for dessert and Essek had stifled a third yawn in the span of two minutes, Caleb quietly announced, once again avoiding eye contact, that there was a guest room made up for him upstairs.

“What about Dagen?” Beau asked.

“I think he will be fine where he is,” Caleb replied mildly, gesturing at the dwarf, who had woken briefly to inhale an entire pie with an impressive volume of whiskey and not much conversation, and was now snoring again.

And so Essek had been escorted up another level by Caduceus, whose room was apparently on the same floor. They paused outside the guest room, the silence growing so awkward it was almost physically painful.

“Thank you,” Essek managed to choke out, hand on the door. “For all you kindness and understanding.”

“You seem to be struggling,” said Caduceus.

“I was… I am hurt quite badly,” Essek admitted. “I know it must be business as usual to you all, but I’m not used to violence.”

“Well, I think you’re very used to violence, really,” Caduceus said, “it’s just much harder for you when it’s suddenly up close.”

That was so agonisingly true that it had effectively knocked the wind out of him. He had no idea what to say, how to begin to explain the regret he felt.

“But that wasn’t what I meant,” Caduceus had continued. You’re a good man, Essek. You just have to try to remember it.” He had smiled and briefly rested a hand on Essek’s shoulder. “Get some rest. I’ll be just across the hall. You’re safe here.”

With a shuddery sigh, Essek pushed himself off the door and forced his eyes open, actually taking in the room for the first time – and his breath caught in his throat. He had never been in this room before, but at the same time every detail of it was achingly familiar, and he realised Caleb must have designed all of it specifically for him. Caleb, who had never been in his actual bedroom, but who had clearly modelled this room based on the furnishing in the parts of Essek’s home he had seen. Staring at the intricate carvings of the posts of the canopy bed that was almost identical to his real one, he wondered whether Caleb could secretly scry, and if that was the case, what reason he could possibly have to scry on Essek’s bedroom. Thinking he must be approaching delirium, he  fumbled for a moment with the clasp and then let Jester’s cloak fall to the floor at his feet.

He spotted a second door to the left of the bed and, despite everything, curiosity got the best of him. He crossed the room and opened the door to a spacious bathroom, decorated with intricate lavender and silver mosaic and, in a bewilderingly thoughtful gesture, an enormous tub already full of steaming hot water. He suddenly wanted nothing more than to wash away all the blood and grime and despair. He wriggled free of his remaining clothes, grimacing as the fabric caught on barely closed wounds, and left them on the floor, as well – they were ruined regardless. He sunk into the near-scalding water with a grateful sigh, the last traces of chill finally melting away in the heat.

Once he finished scrubbing away all the blood, the water was tinged pink. He looked around, spotting a pile of fluffy towels on the counter by the sink, and next to them a set of neatly folded midnight blue pyjamas. Caleb has truly thought of everything, hasn’t he? he thought with a stab of fondness.

Clean and dry, he put on the pyjamas, which fit him perfectly, and returned to the other room, finally falling into the bed’s soft embrace.

As soon as he lay back into the pillows and let his eyes fall shut, he was assaulted by images of his companions being slaughtered, the malicious glee of the attackers, his feeble attempts to fight back, the searing pain of blades splitting his skin and iron-toed boots making contact with his ribcage and the taste of blood in his mouth and the cold metal biting into his wrists. His eyes snapped back open and he barely managed to bite back a scream. He knew right away that he would not be getting much rest tonight, after all. Even if he managed to fall into a trance, what awaited him there was no doubt only more painful memories. He was better off staying awake.

He didn’t know how long he lay there, staring up at the canopy embroidered with a painfully familiar scene of a group of friends in a hot tub, but eventually he began to wonder whether any of this was real. It was entirely absurd, after all, that they would have found him in the buried ruins of Aeor, of all places, and saved him from imminent demise, and brought him back to this marvel of arcane prowess where everything was beautiful and plentiful and warm. Maybe he had had it right the first time and it was all a hallucination, a delirium of his final moments, a fantasy of all the things he couldn’t stop wishing he could still have.

The first knock was so soft that he thought he had imagined it. Still, he sat up in bed, listening, desperate for any distraction from the downward spiral that was about to pull him under. When it came again, unmistakable this time, he dragged his sore body out of bed, stumbling in his haste to get to the door. Only once he had opened it and was looking directly at Caleb, still fully dressed, did he realise that he was wearing nothing but borrowed pyjamas. Even after every undignified thing that had happened, he somehow still found it in himself to be mortified.

“I hope I did not wake you,” Caleb said quietly. “Although I guess you don’t sleep quite the same as I do.”

“I was awake,” Essek heard himself say, distracted by hoping desperately that he didn’t look as obviously flushed as he felt. It was his turn to avoid eye contact.

“Do you mind if I come in for a moment?” asked Caleb. “I have something for you.”

It was then that Essek noticed he was carrying something under his arm. “Please.” He stepped aside, gesturing Caleb into the room, then closed the door behind them.

Carefully, Caleb unravelled the little bundle, revealing a number of very familiar items and pieces of clothing, all very much worse for wear and all wrapped in Essek’s winter mantle. Caleb laid them gently onto a chair, then looked up at Essek. “I wanted to return these to you,” he said. “I’m afraid anything of significant value they have taken.”

At a loss for words, Essek said, pointlessly, “You found them.”

“I apologise for not returning them to you sooner,” said Caleb. “I did not expect to see you here and I was… apprehensive about your motivations.”

Essek closed his eyes for a moment. It’s your own fault he doesn’t trust you, he reminded himself, you are the one who betrayed them. Exhaustion once again catching up with him, he slumped into the nearest chair. “I can’t blame you.” He looked up at Caleb. Too tired to lie, he added, “Truthfully, I was not sure if you wanted to see me again. Any of you.”

Caleb took half a step closer, his eyes cool and startlingly blue. “Do you not remember what I said to you on our ship?”

“I do,” said Essek. Almost involuntarily, his fingers came up to brush his brow where Caleb had kissed him. “How could I forget? Still, I was not convinced you would not change your mind. The choices I have made... it wasn’t by mistake, Caleb. I knew what I was doing, and I had no concern for the consequences.”

“We have all been in situations where we have had nothing to lose, Shadowhand,” Caleb replied, seating himself on a settee opposite from him.

The title was a bitter reminder of everything he couldn’t seem to live up to. “Please, don’t call me that,” Essek said wearily. “Not here.”

“As you wish,” Caleb paused, “Essek.”

“Please know that the last thing I want is to hurt you any more than I already have,” Essek blurted, uncertain whether he meant all of them or Caleb specifically.

“You have hurt yourself more than you have hurt any of us,” said Caleb. “I know better than you can possibly imagine what it feels like to regret, to regret so fiercely that it feels like there is nothing in the world but your pain.”

Essek leaned his face into his hand and rubbed his eyes, more to hide his expression than anything. “I think you were right,” he said, “when you said we are the same. I don’t know that I have ever met anyone who understood who I am – what I am – quite so easily.”

“We are the same,” Caleb concurred. When Essek glanced up at him, he was smiling, in that wistful way of his. “In the good as well as the bad. I have not changed my mind, Essek. You are just as deserving of redemption as any of us.”

Suddenly, Essek was blinking back tears, with no way to hide it. “I’m sorry, I don’t know what… it’s been a very long day,” he managed with a watery laugh.

“Of course,” said Caleb, “I should let you rest.” He was on his feet before Essek could hardly blink. He paused at the door. “We’ll talk tomorrow. Gute Nacht, Essek.”

Gripped with a sudden panic, Essek wanted more than anything to stop him, to ask him to stay, to beg him not to leave him alone – and found he couldn’t. The thought of relinquishing what little was left of his dignity by admitting how much he needed help, that he couldn’t manage on his own like he always did, was simply unthinkable. “Good night, Caleb.”

The door closed behind Caleb and Essek was left staring blankly after him. An intense sense of loss washed over him, and his chest somehow felt heavy and hollow at once. Almost as if Caleb’s presence in the room had been the only thing holding them back, the fear and doubt and horrific images were back, circling and threatening to consume him. With sudden clarity, he realised that however impossible it was to subject himself to the mortifying ordeal of asking for help, having to survive this night without help was infinitely worse.

He rushed to the door and almost threw it open. “Caleb, wait.”

Caleb was already floating, halfway up to the next floor, but stopped and turned when he heard Essek. “Yes?”

Essek drew as deep a breath as his bruised ribs would allow and spoke quickly, before he could lose his nerve. “Could you stay? Please?”

Caleb floated back down, and as soon as his feet touched the floor, he was walking back to the door, which Essek held open for him. Instead of walking past him, Caleb gently pushed Essek back into the room, then closed the door behind them.

“I don’t...” Essek swallowed. “I would rather not be alone.”

Caleb held his head between his hands, and placed a single kiss on his brow.

“Ja, I will stay.”