“I need help.”
It takes him a few seconds to place to voice.
“Aurelius?”
The man’s voice is full of only just controlled panic. “I’m at Prydan’s. I think there is something very wrong.”
“I’m on my way.” Aaron pockets the phone and grabs his jacket and sword.
The Watchman’s apartment is only a few minutes from the castle, a ground floor flat overlooking the nuns field allotments. Aurelius is waiting at the door for him. His faced etched with concern. Prydan is on the sofa, his complexion grey and his breathing shallow. Aaron moves over to him.
“What happened?”
“I was talking to him. Trying to explain something. Stuff about my past and…”
Aaron turns and looks at the man, sensing there is something he is not saying. “… and the other versions of him you knew?”
Aurelius nods.
“Then what?” Aaron rests his hand lightly on Prydan’s chest.
Aurelius shrugs.
Aaron stops and looks at him. “This is one of those complete honesty moment soldier.” He warns him. “If you don’t tell me I can not help you.”
“I opened my memories to him, so he could see it for himself and know I wasn’t lying.” Aurelius admits.
Aaron grimaces. “Please tell me there wasn’t that one particular memory, that we both know is in there, that he saw.”
Aurelius just looks at him. Then he swallows. “I’m sorry.”
“You showed him his own death.” Aaron responds, there is an underlying anger and disbelief in his voice.
“But it wasn’t his death was it.” Aurelius retaliates, “It was that other version of him. It was Perilius’s death. Not his.”
Aaron rolls round so he is sitting on the floor with his back to the sofa looking at the man before him. “Wyrd save me from well meaning idiots.” He whispers softly. “Did it not occur to you that seeing a version of yourself ripped apart by a daemon might not be just a tad stressful?” He asks.
Aurelius drops onto the coffee table, his head in his hands. “I killed him. Again.” He whispers.
Aaron looks at him. His expression softening. “No you haven’t.” He assures the man. “He might wish you had when he comes round but he’s not dead.”
Aurelius looks up clutching at the straw Aaron is offering.
“Back of the fridge there is a beer bottle without a label. Go get it.”
Aaron watches the man go and then turns back to his patient.
Inside Prydan’s mind is a mess. He closes his eyes to focus, feeling his way through the tangled screaming crowd. Far too many of these people hate Aurelius and his presence really wasn’t helping the one lone original voice come through. As the source of their anger and betrayal leaves they quieten and Aaron can hear the voice whispering over and over again “I died.”
He focuses on it, hunting it down and lifting it to the front. Then he cuts through its litany with a long practised skill and a single message. “No it wasn’t you.”
On the sofa Prydan’s eyes spring open and he takes a great gulp of air as man who was drowning. He tries to sit up but there is a weight on his chest. He looks over at the source of the pressure confused.
“Aaron? How did you get here? Where’s Aurelius?”
Aaron opens his eyes and lets go so Prydan can sit up.
“Oh my head what was I drinking last night?”
“Fate.” Aaron responds softly.
Prydan looks at him confused, and then begins to sense the source of his head ache. He clutches his skull as the voices threaten to over whelm him again.
Aurelius returns with the beer and hands it to Aaron. Aaron cracks the top off it with his thumb and then takes a brief swig of it himself before handing it to Prydan.
Prydan stares at it unsure.
“It will help shut them up for a while.” Aaron assures him.
Prydan swallows most of the bottle in one go. It’s coolness seems to seep into his head and a brings a calmness to the clamour in his mind. He looks up at Aurelius and then at Aaron, still confused. “What the fuck is going on? Why is my head full of people?”
Aaron pats his knee. “Welcome to solohood Pry. That’s coalescence.”
+*+
Silas is on the dance floor again. His head swimming with all the booze. It’s a slow numbers. His arms are around someone. He buries his face in her hair. It feels so good and so right as they move to the music together. He feels a gentle kiss on his neck. And then he looks up and sees Sally coming back from the toilet. She stops dead starting at Gemma and him embracing on the dance floor.“Oh crap.” He whispers.
And then the main door is swinging as Sally vanishes through it.
He chases after her filling the room which is cry of “Sally wait.”
But by the time he gets outside there is only darkness wind and rain.
His fist slams into the lamppost in frustration.
“Silas?” He turns to see Gemma right behind him.
He gestures down the road. “Sally.”
Her face looks panicked got a second. “Oh good I’m so sorry I didn’t think...”
“Oh Argg.” He throws his fists at the air. Cursing his stupidity.” The club starts to empty out behind them, obviously some one has called time.
“Let me walk you home.” Gemma offers. “Get a coffee.”
“Ok.”
.
.
.
It was meant to be just coffee. He even remembers putting on the kettle at some point.
So why is the floor covered in clothes, and why is this amazing woman in his arms and why does it all feel so good and so right.
