Summary: The simple question of where to sleep leads Eden's accidental arrival to discover that there is safety and rest to be found here among the strange men that call a ruined fort home, thanks to a midnight conversation with their leader.
Notes: Vessel's dialogue is in italics, MC is gender neutral, and the tags are in the tags below! Enjoy :D
"Er… I don't mean to be a nuisance, but is… there somewhere I can sleep?"
At my soft spoken question, the chatter (both verbal and mental) of the four men in front of me petered down. Glances were exchanged, ones that I assumed meant a more private mental conversation was happening. I could feel my shoulders tense, feel myself begin to pick at the already-raw flesh of the bottom corner of my thumbnails as the seconds wore on. They could ask me to sleep outside where monsters apparently roamed, after all. Frankly, I would be a thousand times more grateful for a few blankets on the kitchen floor.
Deliberation took what felt like ages. Finally, I heard the voice of the leader cut through the anxious static of my mind.
My room. Follow me.
Somehow, I still thought that blankets on the floor might be better.
The others said their goodnights to each other and to me, though all I could muster was a nod in response. The leader began to walk down the hallway out of the kitchen, lit by candles I was quite sure weren't there before. I was quick to follow.
I was unsure how many of my thoughts were audible to him as we walked in silence. So far, he and the others had been nothing but kind, after it was clear that I was just as confused as they were as to where in hell I'd found myself. But persistent thoughts that my luck might be running out very shortly kept my shoulders tight enough to bounce a ping-pong ball off of. I knew he had a sword. I knew that the shortest one of them could turn into a cat, any kind, it seemed. I wasn't too sure what the others were capable of. I wasn't sure I wanted to find out.
We walked down several hallways in varying states of disrepair. Whatever had assaulted the fort hadn't ruined it completely, far from it. But the evidence of something trying it's damnest to fix that was everywhere. Deep claw marks in the very stone of the walls, sections where night seeped in overtop of crumbled fortifications, even what looked like blast marks caught my attention as I followed my host for the night. What… creature, demon, entity had caused these? What was so terrible that the first thing I saw here was the edge of a blade?
If the leader could hear me, he gave no responses. He simply navigated the labyrinth of endless hallways until finally, he stopped at a rather unassuming wooden door. He pulled it open, and with a gesture, indicated that I should go in first. If my thoughts weren't audible, the gulp of me swallowing my fear before it choked me surely was.
The room was incredibly ornate. Marble floors stretched for what was probably triple the size of the shitty motel room I'd spent the previous night in. White walls with golden vines snaking across them, mahogany shelves that rose to the high ceilings… If I hadn't felt out of my depth before, I most certainly did now.
My host guided me to his very large bed, which sat under a window that dwarfed it in comparison. I was so sure he was going to climb in with me. There was room enough for two, three, possibly even four on here, after all. But no. Much to my shock and relief, he simply turned away once I was seated and walked to the table and loveseat that sat in front of his bookshelves.
I kept an eye on him as I bent over to undo the laces on my boots. There wasn't really anything I could do if he truly wanted to hurt me, but knowing it was coming might give me a fighting chance, at least. He seemed… well, wholly uninterested in me, if I was honest. How much of it was an act, I wasn't sure. But the sheets of paper splayed across his table held his attention for long enough that I could kick my boots off and lay down.
The bed welcomed me with open arms. Tension seeped out of me the further I sank into the comfort of the near-ridiculous amount of mattresses this man apparently required to sleep on. Of course, if I had ever had the option, I would have probably done the same.
And yet, for all that comfort, sleep was nowhere to be found.
I swaddled myself in a quilt that smelled like woodsmoke. I rearranged the many fluffy pillows about five times. I tried sleeping on both sides, my back, and even my stomach. But nothing got me anywhere closer to blissful unconsciousness. A frustrated sigh left me as I finally decided that laying on my back and keeping my eyes closed was… close enough, maybe.
Until I felt eyes on me.
I cracked one of mine open and saw my host for the evening looking at me. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking, thanks to the mask that covered everything but the mouth I hadn't seen him speak with anyways. But when I heard his voice in my head, it sounded… gentle. Certainly gentler than it had the first time he spoke to me.
You are… welcome to read, if you cannot sleep. I have plenty of material in here, and if none of it piques your interest, I can guide you to the library.
I considered the offer for no more than a moment before I found myself walking across the floor to the many bookshelves. For the first time, I thought I saw the ghost of a smile flash across his lips. But he stood and turned his attention to his books far too fast for me to know for sure.
They are, admittedly, less well organized than the library. But generally, those two shelves are reserved for music and music theory, the one in front of you for nonfiction, and the one beside me for fiction.
I whispered my thanks and got to perusing.
The titles on display here ranged wildly in age. Books from several hundred years ago that probably belonged in a museum sat beside books that looked as though they were printed yesterday. The two shelves that held music unfortunately held nothing interesting for me. The nonfiction section, however, had many books on all sorts of animals, plants, and natural processes. I selected one about wolves and brought that one back to bed with me.
Though I tried to read, I found my gaze shifting from the words in front of me to my host at his table more and more frequently. At first it was merely to make sure I would see if he decided that I was no longer welcome. But as the night wore on, my fear melted into something of a… cautious curiosity. For hours, his focus was solely on his papers. He wrote on them very infrequently. It seemed that he was far too busy tapping on his desk and his thigh as he bobbed his head, only to sigh and rearrange some of the papers or cross something out.
Given the two shelves full of music behind him, it wasn't difficult to piece together what exactly he was doing.
It probably would have been easier to write his music with the aid of an instrument, and yet he hadn't made a move to go get one. If he could use his voice at all, he didn't even hum. I wondered why that might be until the thought that he was trying not to bother me drowned out all the other possibilities. He was… being nice. Kind, even. I set aside the pretense of reading and watched him openly for a moment or two.
"Hey." I said softly, unsure if I really wanted him to hear me. But he did, if his head raising from where he was hunched over the papers before him was any indication. "Do you… have a name?"
This time, I was quite sure I saw that phantom smile.
Vessel. The others are II, III, and IV.
"…Is this a cult? Am I going to be sacrificed, here?" I asked, only half joking. Surely he must have understood how bizarre this was.
I watched him chuckle, the motion shaking his shoulders a little, and lean back into his chair to better face me.
Unless you happen to be a goat in disguise, you have nothing to fear so far as being sacrificed.
"Oh, well that's… comforting, I guess. But cult, yeah? Am I being converted?"
My dear, not even Sleep herself knows how you got here. He didn't bring you to us for conversion.
I sat with that in silence for a few moments. Cult didn't seem too far off, but their… deity didn't want me here in the first place?
My thoughts shifted to the last few days before I found myself here. I drove through forests at three in the morning that wanted nothing more than for me to leave. I stayed in shitty motels that hadn't been cleaned in God knew how long and prayed that the bedbugs wouldn't bite. I willed myself to stop thinking as the memory of packing all my belongings, everything I had to my name, in one backpack and making my run for it flashed across my mind. A familiar panic sat surrounded by cold shocks as I tried desprately to keep from crying. I was pretty sure Vessel meant me no harm now. That didn't mean I was willing to hand him knowledge to hurt me with later.
He must have caught some of the mental threads I strained against. I wasn't sure exactly how much he heard, how much he saw, even, but whatever it was drove him to stand up. He walked over slowly. Carefully, even, giving me every opportunity to tell him to buzz off. When he got here, he didn't sit on the bed with me. Instead, Vessel sat cross-legged on the marble floor in front of me. He sighed audibly, a soft frown on his face now.
I… want you to know that none of us are strangers to being lost, in every sense of the word. You are not unwelcome here. And so long as you stay inside when the enemies of Sleep are around, you are quite safe here. You will be taken care of. Just, er, forgive us if we do not get things exactly right at first. It has been a while since even IV was human.
Reflexive mistrust saw me hike my knees up to my chest and hold them there. "What… what do you want in return? Everything's got a price, Vessel, I need to know yours."
This question apparently caught him off guard. He tilted his head to the side, not unlike the wolf cub on the cover of the book beside me.
Price? I do not ask for anything in return. You are not here because you chose to be. The only thing I could really ask of you is to not go through doors that are closed, especially that of our Ritual Space. If the doors are shut, not even I am allowed in. Other than that… er, please do not aid in the destruction of our home, please stay inside if we tell you to stay, and please tell us what you need when you need it? None of us have had to eat, drink, or sleep regularly for long enough that we cannot recall how often those things need to be done.
That… seemed more than reasonable. My brow furrowed as I searched futilely for any indication of a lie, any quirk of his mouth that might give away the fine print I couldn't see. "So… Closed doors are a no-go, if I get told to stay inside it's life or death, don't wreck the place, remind you guys that I need things to survive, and generally don't be a dick? Is… is that it? Are you sure?"
Very. Our home is your home.
I couldn't help the tears that pricked the corners of my eyes. The Garden of Eden, though apparently filled with monsters and a cult, was as close to a paradise as I had ever let myself dream. The mistrust in me was quickly overridden by willingness, at least for now, to believe the man sitting on the floor in front of me.
"Thank you." I whispered. Any louder and I was sure my voice would crack and betray the fact that I was half a step away from blubbering uncontrollably.
You are welcome. Please, enjoy your book and your rest. I will be by the shelves if you need anything.
With that, Vessel got to his feet and strolled back over to his table and his chair. It took some time for me to unfurl from the ball I'd curled myself into in an attempt to keep my tears from spilling out. Once I had, I wasted no time in swaddling myself in blankets and barricading myself in pillows again. My heavy eyelids finally shut and allowed me to drift off into the space between awake and asleep. Even if tomorrow held my exile from Eden, even if I was to be thrown to monsters or something else horrible, for now I was comfortable. Safe, even. As I sank into blessed unconsciousness, that momentary safety was good enough for me.
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Cipher Underlying Issues
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