After a few days of emotion therapy, Falk was back on his feet. Clara tended the storefront while Asher stayed near the Dremin, watching over the final checkups.
Falk's appearance had changed. His body was now covered in black feathers that faded into purple at the tips. His broken white mask returned to its original state. There was one more change. His eyes had turned from orange to a bright shade of pink. Clara described it as serenity.
Serenity or not, the Dremin barely spoke any word after he regained consciousness and saw the damage he had done. He kept repeating the same word again and again.
"I'm sorry." He said it for what felt like the hundredth time. It made their conversations awkward, especially for Asher. He hated how much he saw himself in these useless words. How it reminded him of useless things.
"Useless…"
Asher was not sure who said that at first. So many voices echoed that sentiment that it took the Dremin extending on of his feathery arms to the boy's shoulder for Asher to focus.
Suddenly the weight on the boy's shoulder felt lighter. Falk was absorbing the negative emotions. The emptiness that came afterwards felt like wave of bliss. Asher didn't stop him at first. He knew it came from a good place. Still, as the calm began to dull everything, Asher pulled away. It felt too easy, too numbing.
"I promised not to..." Asher managed under a low breath. The boy found himself clenching his fist, his nails digging into skin. The anxiety was slowly setting in again.
Falk nodded. His red eyes closed for a moment. They looked older than anything else about him. It was odd how much the eyes betrayed a person's age and intelligence even in Dremin.
"You know...why name Falk?" he asked. His words were rough, broken. Dremin didn't speak High Loci fluently. They learned it piece by piece. The rest was a mixture of Spirillic and incoherent gurgles. Granted the Spirillic was incoherent as well.
Asher shook his head.
Falk studied him, the sludge along his neck shifting and bubbling. He adjusted his throat before continuing.
"I work under Long Ear. His name Falk. They respect Falk. I want respect."
His voice was clearer now. Still strange, but easier to follow.
Asher stayed quiet, turning the words over. Few sylphs used slaves—too many of their kind were still trapped in chains across the cradle.
"Now Falk no want respect. Want live. Peace." The Dremin closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He stood up from the bed and stared at Asher.
"You choose. Live too. No shame."
The words struck him. Not because they were profound—but because they were true. Shame was what stayed with him. What kept him awake. What he couldn't talk about.
It was the knot in his throat. The pit in his stomach. The weight behind every sleepless night.
"A monster sympathizing with a monster," Regret hissed from somewhere inside him. "How poetic."
Falk flinched, just enough to show he felt it. Then, silently, he reached out once more. He pulled in the spike of agony, the bile of that voice as if to carry some small portion of it with him.
Then he walked past Asher, prompting the boy to follow.
Clara blinked when she saw him at the counter. Falk bowed deeply.
He remembered her words—pay me back when you can work—so he didn't speak again. Just turned to leave.
But as he crossed the threshold, he looked back once.
"No shame," he repeated then turned around and left. The only thing that was left of the Dremin was one of his feathers that had fell off when he bowed.
Asher grabbed it and stared in silence. He tried repeating the words, but they always fell short.
"What was that about?" Clara asked the boy who was barely the height of the counter. "You okay Asher?" Clara looked at the boy. She was still missing an arm, another thing that made him feel guilty and ashamed. He stared at the stump in a trance.
"Asher?" She said his name again. He hated hearing it. So many voices spoke it unison that just hearing it gnawed at his sanity.
"Uh…yes…I'm okay." He replied quickly and hid the feather behind his back.
"We're finished for today…how about you go rest." She spoke warmly to the little boy who nodded and left for his room again.
"How long are you going to keep this up…It's suffocating isn't it…Hearing that woman's affection…her trust. Let's just leave…We're good at leaving." Fear whispered to Asher who gritted his teeth and quickened his pace to his bedroom.
Hours would pass by, and sleep would never find him. He'd pace from one side of the room to the other, sparing glances at the insomnia medicine on the counter. Clara had noticed the signs of his malady and prepared medicine without him asking.
Just thinking about using it made the knot of shame tighten. Taking it meant an easy way out and if he took it, the voices would come biting in full force the next day. He'd rather stay awake till he found a way to redeem himself until suddenly longing spoke up but her voice wasn't in his head but in the room with him.
"Remember"
He looked around frantically till his eyes stopped at the long mirror on the edge of his room before she shrieked another word like a banshee.
"The"
He traced longing's figure. It was a bony husk with disheveled clothes and grey bark for skin. Its eyes were empty sockets. Her scalp lacked a full head of hair and instead had a few strands of white. She looked straight at Asher who fell to the ground and backed away in full force, knocking things left and right.
When he calmed down and looked at her again, she began to smile and smile and smile till her mouth was so deformed it almost made the boy wretch. Her empty sockets glowed with red flames and she opened her mouth. She lunged out of the mirror grabbing Asher
"Promise." She shrieked the final word, revealing rows and rows of serrated teeth. Then she slowly faded away.
Asher, who was shuddering on the ground, cried until he fell asleep. He didn't have the same nightmare. After all parts of it seeped into his reality. He didn't dwell on the fact that his mental health was deteriorating because he knew now what he had to do.
Longing reminded him of what he couldn't escape no matter where he ran. The form she displayed herself in was enough of a reality check.
The next few days, Asher would help Clara around the shop, enough till part of his guilt abated. He returned to his room which was now missing a mirror. The mirror was flipped around and facing the wall. He was not ready yet to face his demons. He needed to heal all his wounds and rest properly for what would come next.
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"Teach me!"