9. Comatose

Things were weird after Birger and Avery had sex.

It was no one particular thing nor was anything said to prompt the uneasiness.

The two men had woken up the next morning, legs tangled and smelling of one another. After an awkward greeting and a thank you for the night before, Birger disentangled himself, dressed, and left without a word.

Avery took it as a slight.

Determined to glean some confirmation of their newly explored intimacy, Avery cornered Birger in a secluded hallway of the inn. He didn't necessarily have a plan, and he stood there dumbly, looking up through his lashes at Birger. The former knight regarded him with a raised eyebrow as he sipped from a mug of steaming tea, waiting. After gathering his courage, Avery craned his neck, stood on his tiptoes, and Birger followed his lead and kissed him. His tongue tasted medicinal and sweet and his large hand cupped the back of Avery’s head. The kiss felt good, natural, and it lit Avery up just as it had the night before. So, there was something worthwhile between them… But then why did Birger seem distant? Even the kiss, as tender as it was, felt restrained. Birger pulled away, smiled a sort of tired smile and told Avery to Hurry up and pack because Sachie was waiting for them.

Avery also took that as a slight.

Reunited after days apart, Sachie hadn’t known any difference between the men, or at least, she hadn’t let on that she had known any difference as she waved them over and gave Avery a warm hug.

The three of them carried on with their journey; leaving this town and heading south to reach the next. They walked, and though Sachie and Birger conversed, hardly a word was spared to the mage. Avery was positive that sleeping with Birger would open the floodgates of their relationship; nothing like a hefty dose of intimacy to get the ball rolling… Or at least, that’s what Avery had expected. But sex with Birger had done the opposite, it had reinforced the damn slueces. Granted, it had only been a few hours since, but there was no flirty banter nor ribbing. Just a halfhearted smile or two and nothing of substance. Birger had even set a faster pace than usual, which Sachie could barely match—her short legs working doubly hard to keep up—leaving Avery trailing behind like a sullen shade.

Alone with his thoughts, the mage started to sulk, replaying their night together over and over in excruciating detail, trying to fathom what he had done wrong. But Avery could think of nothing. They had confessed their feelings for one another and Birger quite literally opened up to him. Despite it being their first time, the sex was great. The two even snuggled after, finally drifting to sleep with Birger spooning him close. The distance now was baffling. How did it go from pillowtalk to silence so quickly? Was it unreasonable of him to worry this much? Avery, having spent too much time in his head, was now deeply upset. In his frustration he was tempted to hurl insults at Birger, to cuss him out and bring him down. But he knew that would only exacerbate whatever this was, so Avery behaved and distracted himself with another matter… His glamour was failing.

As the day carried on, Avery’s black hair faded back to his natural brown. He didn’t dare force it back as he was too afraid that doing so would make another part of his glamour weaken—the more important parts. It was bad enough that Birger had inexplicably given him the cold shoulder but now Avery’s magic was on the fritz. Not only was it a tremendous effort to keep his glamour up, but even the basic tasks he was always responsible for—igniting kindling for fires, providing illumination in the dark, boiling water on the fly—were now a struggle. Every spell that had once been no more difficult than breathing for him felt laborious and sleep inducing. Must be the death swapping spell, he thought as he relieved himself some paces away from their camp. But if that was the cause, was there a way to fix it? Avery wasn’t sure what to do. He’d never depleted his magic so thoroughly before and didn’t know how to best replenish it on his own. Sleep? Food? More magic? Avery sighed deeply as he tucked himself away. At least Sachie and Birger hadn’t noticed anything different about him (which also upset him because his hair was obviously a lighter shade).

“Everything happens all at once,” he muttered and leaned his forehead against the tree trunk, allowing the rest of his glamour to fall. An instantaneous relief washed over him and that in itself was alarming. It was dark now and if he sat far enough away—but not too far as to draw suspicion—he could go without his illusion. He headed back to the gentle glow of their camp and suddenly felt very scared and very annoyed and isolated and unloved like some massive burden and—

Birger, on the other hand, couldn’t explain his sudden coldness. He supposed he was still cross about the dream treading thing… Yet days had passed since then, and despite any lingering grievances, Birger believed Avery’s trespassing was only insecurity and a misguided attempt to understand him better. No, this was something else. Birger felt… pressured, but mostly terrified of the unknown, and in this case the unknown was a budding relationship with Avery, a man he knew little about. Birger thought it was best to keep his distance until he could sort through his feelings, but as the day carried on, he noticed Avery’s mood shift. He seemed distracted and low, even his magic appeared to be some effort for him. Then there was his hair, now a pretty shade of brown—what was the reason for that?

He watched as Avery returned to their camp, eyes downcast, face in shadows. He accepted his meal from Birger with a despondent Thanks and sat some ways away. Sachie was slouched by the fire and sedated with two helpings of stew, too invested in her book to notice any tension. So, Birger gathered himself and sat beside Avery. The mage was clearly irritated by this, turning his face away, but Birger was determined to get him to smile.

“I know I’ve been distant,” he offered, and Avery only scoffed, still refusing to look at him. “I just… I have a lot of feelings right now. Feelings I don’t quite understand.”

Avery began eating, heaping generous spoonfuls into his mouth. This stew was his favorite and Birger had made it in an attempt to placate him. He wasn’t sure if it was working, but Avery allowed a delighted hum to slip through before clearing his throat with a rather uncharacteristic grunt. Birger scooted closer.

“I’d like to spend the night with you,” he whispered, “and make it up to you.”

Avery began eating faster, one quick spoonful after another, until he had tipped his head back and shoveled the rest into his mouth. Birger leaned back and watched, a little impressed, a little irritated. He flinched when Avery suddenly hefted himself up, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, and brusquely returned the empty bowl to him.

“Thanks for the meal,” he said and retired to his tent.

Birger sat, shocked. Avery was a lot of things, but rude wasn’t one of them. Here Birger was, attempting to right his wrongs, and yet… He felt himself glower, brows heavy. His apprehension then became perfectly clear. He didn’t know Avery and that was a problem.

***

Sachie shook Birger awake. The roughness startled him out of an unsettling dream and upon waking up he instantly reached for his sword, but Sachie quickly stomped on his wrist and pinned him with all of her bodyweight.

“This isn’t any way to wake me up, Sachie,” he growled, but then his rage petered out, replaced with sleepiness. “The sun’s not even up…”

“Sorry. But we need to head out. Now.”

Birger flung his forearm over his eyes. “Why?”

Sachie could hardly contain her excitement. “There’s an artefact nearby. A celestial orb. I was reading about it last night and—ohh, Birger get up!” She grabbed his blanket and yanked it off of him. “C’mon sleepyhead, I reckon we can make it by dusk if we leave now!”

Birger snarled and sat up and swiped at her, but she was already headed towards Avery’s tent, where seconds later the sounds of his frustrations were heard.

***

“Why’re you wearing that?” Sachie finally asked. She tugged on Avery’s headscarf and he slapped her hand away, readjusting the thin fabric under his nose.

“Because I feel like it.”

“Alright jeez. You’ve been acting so weird lately.”

“I have not.”

“Oh, okay,” she replied in a goofy tone. “Okay mister tough guy.”

“Shut up.”

Sachie had given Birger the supposed location of the orb and he was leading the way, hacking through low hanging branches and such. Celestial relics were often in the woods… Avery wondered about that.

“Where’d you hear about this anyhow?” he asked and Sachie handed him a book. A slender publication, clearly unofficial. He thumbed through it, unimpressed. “Ugh, Sachie, where do you find this shit?”

“Don’t worry about it. It’s legit by the way.”

“Right.”

“I’ve read about this orb in other books.”

“And what does this orb do exactly?” he said, dubious.

“Well…um…”

He looked over at her. She was wearing one of his necklaces and he narrowed his eyes. When had she pilfered that?

“Defensive stuff, I guess.”

“Defensive stuff, you guess,” he repeated, unamused. “You really need to grow up. You’re aware you could hurt yourself, or us, no? If you just go around taking shit that doesn’t belong to you—that you obviously know so little about.”

“Gods, aren’t you in a lovely mood.”

Avery grabbed her shoulder. “I’m being serious, Sachie! You want to go around collecting stuff, fine. But at least understand the consequences of your actions and do your damn research!”

Her bottom lip wibbled and Avery drew in a sharp breath. She motioned to punch him, and he held his hands up to block but then she turned on her heel and sprinted past Birger, causing him to glare back at Avery.

***

The three stopped for lunch when the sun was high above them. They had made good time as they reached their destination—a damp forest with way too many bugs—well before midday. It was a wordless trek, one trailing behind the other, all upset for one reason or another. The three even sat apart, in a lopsided triangle; their usual formation when there was tension. Enough distance but still facing one another. Avery ate his hard cheese and sour bread in silence, until his eyetooth slipped over his bottom lip somehow, resulting in a gruesome bite and an instant taste of blood. He whimpered, and Birger looked up from his meal, brows knotted with concern.

Don’t you dare come over here, mama bear, Avery thought, glaring and willing his glamour back. But Birger couldn’t read minds and thus he walked over. He knelt and gently took Avery’s chin, thumb pulling his bottom lip down to examine.

“Again?” he said with a sigh and produced a handkerchief.

“Yes, again,” Avery hissed, wrenching his face away before Birger could help him.

“You need to eat slower.”

“Kiss it better if you’re so concerned.”

And without any hesitation Birger did, fully, tongue lapping at the cut. Avery was torn between feeling aroused and mortified—he’d been eating cheese!—but his body had a mind of its own. His hands had already clutched Birger’s cowl and were pulling him down onto him as he hungrily kissed him back. Yes, Avery was still irritated, but it was hard to stay mad when this lumbering fool cared for him so openly.

“GROSS! QUIT IT! I’M EATING HERE. HULLO?” Sachie made a rude gagging sound and ran over and kicked Birger’s butt. “Stop that! It was bad enough that I heard you the other night!”

The two men stopped and looked up at her.

“You heard?” Avery asked. “How?”

“My room was next to yours—ugh, I don’t want to think about it, can you please just stop? It’s like watching my parents go at it.” She shuddered then mumbled as she returned to her perch.

Birger breathed out a laugh and gave Avery’s lips a parting peck before he hefted himself. He helped Avery up and the two men crowded Sachie, looking down at her.

“What.”

“Do we need to have The Talk?” Avery asked, fixing his headscarf as he sat beside her on the rock. Birger joined him and flanked her on the other side.

“When a man loves another man…” Birger began but Sachie softly jabbed his arm.

“Shut up. I’m not twelve. I’ve had sex before.”

Avery blinked, enlivened. “Really now? Do tell.”

But Birger was frowning. “I don’t want to hear about it,” he said gruffly and returned to his belongings to store their remaining food away.

“Just some girl…” Sachie said, nonchalantly. She popped a berry into her mouth and chewed.

“I knew it!” Avery said as he slapped his thigh. He leaned and wiggled his pointer finger at her. “I’ve caught you eyeballing some of our proprietresses. I wouldn’t be surprised if you bedded a few behind our backs.” Avery could be a sleaze at times—a knack for it, if you will—and Sachie grimaced and batted his hand away.

“That’s none of your business,” she spat.

“You brought it up!”

The two were set to regress but Birger marched over and grabbed them by their arms, snuffing their friction and making them stand. “Enough. The insects are feasting on me, and I would rather not make camp here. Which way for the orb, Sachie?”

She led them deep into the woodland.

“I swear you take us to the eeriest of places,” said Avery as he carefully avoided knobby roots and intricate spider webs. “Anything we should keep an eye out for?” But he knew the answer, something vague, it always was—

“A pillar, apparently,” Sachie answered. “The orb is housed on a pillar.”

Birger accidentally walked through a web and flung his hands about in a sort of quiet panic.

Then there was a sudden snap of a fallen branch in the distance followed by a heavy creaking. The three froze. Sachie readied her mace, Birger unsheathed his sword, and Avery peered about, smelling mulch and hearing nothing more than the ubiquitous hum of insects.

Birger eased and Sachie belted her mace. They pressed onward, now uneasy, eyes scanning the endless expanse of brambles and trees. Avery was about to protest traveling further until they came across a burnt down temple, with a dead tree nestled within its walls. “Looks Tatran,” he said, unsettled by the sight of it. Of course, it wasn’t Tatran, there were no old practitioners of celestial magic. But the building was similar to modern Medina shrines, with its mother tree and walls of carefully fitted stones… Avery drew up beside Birger and pressed against his arm.

The altar inside was in shambles and layers upon layers of ancient wax covered what remained. And indeed, there was a short pillar, scorched by fire yet still erect, and there sat a pristine orb overseeing the ruined altar. The orb was the size of a small melon and pearlescent like Sachie’s mace. Avery tilted his head, curious as to what it might do. The mace hadn’t done anything more than what a blunt weapon could, and he never felt a thrum of magic from it, but for some reason Sachie was fascinated by the celestial collection. They were pretty, he had to admit. Maybe that’s what lured her to them? Pretty things from a culture long passed.

Sachie looked over at Avery, smug—See? I was right—and he rolled his eyes. She circled the pillar as if assessing how to best pick it up and then she went for it, on her tiptoes, her small hands scooping the orb from what was once an ornate cushion. She held it up, triumphant.

“What does it do?” asked Birger, genuinely curious. He walked over and studied it. “A ball.”

“It’s not a ball it’s an orb and it’s…” She rolled it around in her palms. “Well, it's supposed to be a shield. I think.”

Avery slapped his forehead and groaned aloud. “Sachie, this was a waste of time. You do realize what you seek is far south of here? Far south. Past Hov and whatever else. On an island. At this pace, we will all be two years older by the time we get there. We set out for a wish granting disc and now we have a mace and a ball.”

She scoffed. “Exaggerate much?” She shook her head. “There’s a way to activate it, one moment.”

Avery was skeptical. He popped his hip out and crossed his arms, waiting.

Sachie frowned at him and then frantically turned the orb over in her palms. She then cracked it against the pillar, making the two men wince. But nothing happened; the orb was unscathed and Sachie shrugged. “Whatever. Point is, I got it. Let’s mosey.”

But that wasn’t enough for Avery. “No, no, no—hand it over.”

Sachie held it close to her chest. “I can do it, just give me a second.” She began slapping it. Pap pap pap.

“Pfft, absolutely graceless. You obviously don’t know what you’re doing.” Avery snatched it from her hands and right then—as his body seized up and his mouth uttered a strained Hrk—he knew that had been a rash endeavor. His world went dark and silent, and the abstract well that was his magic, dissipated. A hollow feeling—that.

Birger stood, shoulders slumped with a faraway stare, as his companions bickered. It was only when he saw Avery’s body violently stiffen did Birger spring into action. The orb dropped from the mage’s hands as he teetered backward, ankles locked. Birger caught him mid-fall, startled by the feel of his rigid body, not unlike a large plank of wood. Avery’s arms were locked at the elbows, his hands grasped at nothing, and his eyes were wide, lips parted, all as if he had been turned into living stone. Birger laid Avery down as gently as he could and looked up at Sachie who looked down at him with equal fright.