He didn’t know if there was really a defensive spell around Aveen’s bed, but for what Somna’a guessed, he propably just wasn’t able to see it. He didn’t have the slightest talent for magic. When he wielded his blades, he sometimes had a feeling his aether naturally added some speed to his movements, but he did not think that would count as real magic. His family had always been merchants, travelers, leatherworkers. As far as he knew, there was no healer or magic user in his line in sight, beside his sister.

As Somna’a was lying there on the other bed, looking over to the other sleeping Miqo’te half buried under the blanket, it reminded him of his home. The room he had shared with his younger sister for so long. How they sometimes had talked and laughed endlessly, so that mother or father would come in several times to remind them that it’s time to sleep. That was before their village came into the focus of the empire. Before Somna’a’s parents went to Ala Mhigo to gain citizenship… and never came back. Before he was forced to put his sister on a Carriage to see her savely smuggled beyond Baelsars Wall towards Gridania. It is true. Killing Garleans wouldn’t bring him the final answers to what happened to his parents. Or if his sister had ever made it safely past the Wall. And the more stray Garleans in Gyr Abania they killed or dragged to Ala Mhigo, the less revenge there was left. Somna’a would be lucky if he found another resistance group that would hire him now anyway.

He whished he someday could sleep so soundly and peacefully again like that bluehaired Miqo’te over there on the other bed. At least it looked like he truly slept calmly. Maybe he just pretended, out of fear that weird other man with an occasional attitude could smother him in his sleep, Somna’a thought and had to grin about that. Aveen was careful. Which already made him smarter than Somna’a anyway. And Somna’a found him curiously soft and strong at the same time. He couldn’t put his finger on it exactly. Maybe it was his kindness, his conviction together with his little shaking hands and the softest hair he had ever felt on his cheek during that embrace a few hours earlier. But Somna’a pushed these thoughts away and tried to sleep. He had learned that in his life, getting attached to someone just brought trouble.

He woke to the smell of fresh coffee. It was propably almost noon, regarding the sunlight illuminating one tent side and Aveen’s bed was empty. The blanket and pillow very neatly folded. On the bedside table of the guest bed, right infront of Somna’a’s sleepy nose, stood the filled mug again, around its lower half a kind of strange, orange-red… Aura. Somna’a couldn’t recognize what that was… but of course he had to touch it. He sat up on his bed side and slowly reached one finger into the misty thing around the cup. It just disappeared instantly. Somna’a’s ears flicked and he tilted his head to one side. But as the mug didn’t explode or suddenly began to scream or anything… he just grabbed it and took a sip of the hot black stuff. Maybe the Aura was there to keep it from cooling. Did he need to ask Aveen now if he was able to read his thoughts?

His weapons were placed on the desk and the Keeper took them back and left the tent to take a shower and ask a medic if he could finally leave the bandages off. His regeneration went well and he did not want to take any more resources from the medics than necessary. The rest of the day he made the walk to the camp of his former company. He still had his stuff there and before everything was transported towards the next town, he needed to hurry. Hargrim and the others would leave the medics soon and after that Somna’a would have to think about what to do next anyway. He said goodbye to Nyra and some others and carried his bags up the hill to the medic camp again. Somna’a didn’t own much. Mostly some change clothes, some coin, some tools for leatherworking. Not much was left from his old life and he thought it best to not have trinkets to become sentimental over. The memories were enough. He would stay in the medic camp for now until he had found a new way.

It was already evening again, when he returned and just placed his two bags in the patients tent before searching for Aveen. He found the small Miqo’te on a stonebench at one of the fire places, eagerly writing something in a book which rested on his right pulled up leg. The Keeper sneaked in a wide curve towards Aveens back and just casually leaned his crossed arms at the backrest, right behind Aveen’s neck, so that Somna’a could casually look at Aveen’s writings. Or at least that was the plan, because the healer just quickly closed his notebook, both ears moving slightly forward as if to not be accidently brushed by Somna’a’s leaning body. ”It’s rude to sneak up on someone and look into their notebook uninvited.” Aveen stated so factually, that it was almost funny again and let Somna’a chuckle lightly.

“Did you hear me approach? I am getting rusty.”

“Just a bit. But I already saw you back there around the patients tents. Thats how I knew only you would be so brazen as to try to scare me.” Aveen tilted his head to the side a bit in an attempt to look up to the Keeper leaning half above him.

“I did not think about scaring you, how dare you assuming that about me.” Somna’a just answered gallantly and overdramatic, before walking around the bench to sit next to Aveen.

“I thought you had just left.” the younger one said then, in his voice almost a hint of… relief.

Somna’a leaned his back against the cold stone, his hands casually on his lap and turned his head to the left to look at the Seeker. ”Naah. I would at least have said thank you for the Coffee. That came from you, right?”

Aveen smiled a bit shyly. “Yeah. You looked so happily at the mug yesterday when you left the tent, so I just figured you really like that stuff. Oh, and Reko, one of your…uh… former comrades told me this morning, that you hate it when it’s cold, so I put a simple heating spell around it.” he explained as if it’s the most normal thing in the world to do these little favours for someone. Somna’a was moved by this and couldn’t help but smile.

“Who taught you to be so selfless, Aveen?” he asked softly.

The Healer just shrugged, turned his head to look into the fire infront of them that sent its light and warmth into the evening sky. ”I just think… kindness costs nothing. But I know not anyone can afford it.” he said calmly, still looking into the fire, his notebook with the pen under both his hands on his lap.

“What were you writing?”

“Just… some notes of what I learned here today. They want to send me to Ala Ghiri tomorrow with a load of stuff from our Alchemist. Someone will accompany me, that knows the way because I definitely don’t.” he chuckled a bit nervously.

“I know the way to Ala Ghiri.” Somna’a said plainly and Aveen looked up to him again.

“Hmm. I suppose you do. Have you… already made up your mind what you do now after Hargrim… well… Do you have a place to return to?” his gentle voice and that reassuring look in those brown eyes made it almost hard for Somna’a to not immediatly pour his heart out... but the Keeper wasn’t in the mood now for explanations. ”I don’t. Regarding both, actually. But maybe you could just ask your superior here if he wants to hire me for the trip to Ala Ghiri. I have experience in sellsword work.”

Aveen seemed to think about that for some seconds before nodding slightly. ”I will. That is actually a good Idea. So we don’t have to spare another medic just for the trip.”