Three bells. Eld winced at the sonorous tolling. That meant he’d been aimlessly shuffling around the labyrinthine passages of the Survey Squad HQ for over an hour now, and he still felt wide awake. No drooping eyelids. No stifled yawns. Nothing.
Groaning, he continued on his way, large feet scuffing over the flagstones that lined the floors of the winding corridors. These early morning walks were becoming an annoyingly regular occurrence. Sleep had always come easily to Eld and still did, technically speaking. But recently, his sleep had become at best restless; at worse, utterly broken. He always awoke with a violent lurch, heart hammering in his chest. muzzy, half-remembered dreams whirring round his head. A woman’s voice crying “Wait!” followed by terrible, terrible screams.
He knew why he was having the dreams, of course. Stopping them was the problem.
Groaning again, he paused to hitch up his shorts before striding off once more, a definite direction now in mind. The walking hadn’t been any good for tiring him out, but he had worked up an appetite. He’d go to the kitchens, he decided, grab anything that wasn’t nailed down and take it back to bed. Then sleep, he hoped.
But, as he reached the sprawling kitchens, it became painfully apparent that that wasn’t going to happen either. Judging by the mouth-watering smell wafting... Well, just about everywhere, someone had beaten him to it. Slowly, carefully, Eld pushed the heavy wooden door to the kitchen open and peered through the gloom. A familiar figure stood hunched over the nearest stove, tossing food around a hissing skillet with an ease that only the natural born cook can achieve. That, coupled with the stooped shoulders and the fly-away hair, meant that it could only be one person...