He looked up from Zenji's body, observing Draenen's expression. He was tired, and what little he had studied about drugs and opiates was enough for him to self-diagnosis the first symptoms of withdrawal. He couldn't tell whether the woman was just too distracted with the older man on the cot or stressed to notice his conditions, or if he was still stable enough to manage a poker face and hide the issue from her.

In other situations, his love for gratifications and chances to show off his skills would have pushed him to test her further. But right there, right then, his brain registered that pleasant tickle to his ego only as a feeble breeze, which died down quickly. He was just happy that she wasn't overly worried and panicking again. As much as he loved her dearly, to comfort someone else felt like an impossible feat to him at the moment.

- He is stable now. - He said with a breath that felt exhausting to even let out.

She let out a breath as well, however, hers was one of relief, and shifted slightly, moving her head in a sequence of little nods, while biting her lower lip. - Okay. Thank you.

- I only cleaned the wound and put a bandage. - Roy's voice had an apologetic sound that he hated to hear in his own voice. He sounded horribly similar to his mother when he did that. - You did what was really important, Sophe. What is that you gave him, by the way?

- Yes, thankfully I still had some of that with me. It's…. - Roy didn't listen to her long enough to hear her answer. The music had grown too loud for him to ignore it now. It wasn't overwhelming enough to induce him to sing its words, but he could have sworn the musician performing it was standing just behind him.

He turned his head to glance back, both to verify his sensation, and to hide his face to Draenen. He knew he had to look awfully pale. That music disturbed him so much, he actually felt cold waves run down his skin.

He didn't hear Draenen's voice in the background anymore, and guessed she was waiting for him to comment. - I see…

He turned back to look at her, and jumped on his seat when he realized she had walked around Zenji's cot and knelt before him. If she hadn't looked worried for him earlier, she certainly was now.

- Sorry… - She said at his startled reaction, one of her hands reaching to hold his. He shook his head.

- I'm just a little tired, Sophe. It's fine.

- Is… - She bit her lip again, glancing behind him. - Is someone there…?

- There is absolutely nothing there, Sophe.

He wouldn't have realized the bitter, icy tone with which he had spoken, hadn't her face turned into a confused, half-panicked, half-irritated expression. Roy abandoned her hand to bury his face in both his hands.

- Forgive me…. That was to myself, not you. I swear….

- It's okay.

- No, it's not okay. I'm sorry. - He lowered one hand to stare at the floor with one eye. He could feel the thin scars on his cheek against his palm. There was just one mirror on the Phathrie, and he hadn't used it yet. That feeling on his skin was all what would remind him of his next look. And it was plenty to make him feel a mix of anger and frustration, that he felt always harder and harder to keep buried inside him for no one to see. Was it the Mist's curse doing this to him? Or was he going to turn into a brooding, angry man like Marekh had been in his last few days?

Right, there was that too. How many days before he'd be gone as well?

- ….Roy? Roy.

He blinked, and looked up at Draenen. She looked hesitant, maybe even sheepish. His best guess was that she was afraid to make him snap again. How many more reasons to hate himself did he need now?

- Did…. did you take my brother's…?

- Not yet. - The question he had dreaded. He glanced towards Zenji, clearing his throat. - I was about to when you came… I wouldn't have been able to even look at him after drinking that.

- Let me go get it for you. - She said, standing up.

Roy's hand reached out to grab her wrist as she did so, though he didn't put any force in it. He was too tired to be violent anyway, and he wouldn't have allowed himself to harm a woman, no matter under what conditions.

The contact almost immediately caused another vision to take form, the music growing louder. Roy forced himself to stare down at the shoes of the woman the Mist wanted him to see instead of his partner.

- I don't think I should…. - He said, forcing his tone to sound tired, but neutral, faking his evasion with tiredness.

He felt her grabbing his hand in hers again. He heard the voice that wasn't Draenen's, though carrying her words. - But you said he will be okay, now.

Roy took a deep breath. - Something could happen…. I…. - A shiver shook him as the music grew louder inside his head. - I will be damned before I let another one of us….

She let his hand go, and for a moment Roy feared he had made her upset somehow. But she didn't leave the room. He watched her feet (no, it wasn't her feet…) move around his chair, and disappearing from his eyesight. A few seconds later, a pair of naked, slender arms wrapped around his shoulders. Long dark brown locks of hair fell around him like rain, surrounding him like silky courtains. He could smell a scent that wasn't the one Draenen had been gifted with.

Malay's voice chuckled, her chin resting on the top of his head, as her arms almost playfully rocked him left and right. - You know, "one of us" includes you as well. Zenji was struck by a Lamia, not cursed. He will be okay even under someone else's watch. I will treat Moffu with cake, okay?

- Zweeha may disagree…

- She won't. - Unfamiliar lips pecked a kiss against his left temple, while the feminine hands unclasped from his chest, the right one sneaking up to play with his hair behind the right ear. - Things didn't exactly go as planned, but an Immortal was taken down. She couldn't be in a better mood with me.

- …. - The alchemist cleared his throat. It felt horribly dry. - And Asgard…?

A sharp pain struck him in the head, as an high-pitched note played at a much louder, briefer intensity than before. Then everything ceased. Roy blinked, and looked around, confused. All he saw was Draenen, still standing behind him, looking down at him with that concerned frown that was almost motherly.

- He…. I'm sure he is okay. - She said, clearly hesitating. - He's a tough guy. And there were other Immortals there. I'm sure they found him and took him back while we couldn't see. Are you okay…?

The black pools shifted left and right one last time. The effect of the Mist had never ended so abruptly with him… it had always been like a song fading down in the distance. That was unusual…

And the fact that it had ended when he had mentioned Kenjii's last name was even more unnerving. - Yes…

- So, take your medicine, okay…? I have to go to Aht Urhgan to fetch more stuff. I would be less worried to leave if I knew you'd be okay and sleeping in your bed.

Roy stood up from his chair, looking first at Zenji, pausing on him for a minute, before turning to observe her. - ….Okay.

A small smile reached Draenen's lips, and she moved the chair aside to hug him. Those smiles had gotten so rare of late, it was like a throbbing pain for Roy to realize that. Embracing her for a few moments, he inhaled her scent, inwardly imposing himself to fixate that feeling in his head and never forget it.

- I'll go get it now and lay down immediately. - He said softly. - You should go talk to Zweeha now. I think the Captain had more questions, too.

She nodded, pulling away just enough to look at him. She was still smiling slightly, with a faint blush on her cheeks. That little embarassed expression she always put up when she wanted to kiss him or tell him that she loved him but couldn't get herself to. He didn't mind that though. It made her rare initiative more precious and sweet, and each of her kisses was like bliss to him.

He complied to her signal and kissed her, finding himself wishing he could freeze time again. It didn't last long, like many of the best moments do. The moment he forced himself to pull away and go towards the bunkroom, fear and worry burdened him again. On top of that horrible cake of emotions was now also a cherry of guilt for lying to the woman he loved.

- Going to bed?

He stopped in the hallway to look at Excaliace, as the Elvaan walked out of the storeroom with a filthy mop hanging on his shoulder.

- I'm going to take the medicine. - Roy hadn't registered his question right away.

- I know. So, want me to strap you, so you don't fall off?

The Hume paused, then pulled a corner of his mouth. - No… I'll just lock the room.

- Fine. Don't forget to slip the key under the door before you take the stuff, then.

Roy wasn't sure of how much time had passed before the music would return to play in his ears again. Sitting in the bunkroom, on his cot, the only things that were giving him an idea of the flow of time were the wet patch where he had poured Mirror's medicine, and the spot where Zenji's cot used to be at before they had moved it to a room closer to the galley to medicate him. The removed cot had left a rectangular patch of dust that was slowly spreading and blending with the color of the rest of the wooden floor.

At some point, someone had knocked on the door to ask where the key was, but Roy had pretended to be asleep. It would have been a while before they'd realize he had kept it with him to not let anyone in.

The wet patch on the cot was almost completely dry when Roy's eyes finally closed, lulled by the melody of the Mist.

He sensed something unusual from the first moment he opened his eyes in the mansion. It was the first time he'd find himself in a different position than the one he'd fall asleep in. There wasn't even a bed in the small attic he found himself in. He was sitting at a writing desk, with the empty vial of medicine and the key before him. An unexpected detail from what he could remember of his previous visits.

That Malay wasn't there with him didn't surprise him much. The Mist-maker seemed to have troubles showing her to him when Draenen was far away. However, he could've showed him an illusion of Draenen, or maybe even Marekh. Why was he alone that time?

He took a look around, trying to define the purpose of that small room. The chair he was sitting in was the only one present, and now that he took a closer look at it, he realized that the he wasn't sitting at an actual writing desk, but what looked closest to those mirrored desks that women often keep in their bedrooms for their make-up.

Three reflections of himself stared back at him from the three mirrors embedded in the detailed, carved wooden frame that connected to the desk, giving him a view of his front, left and right three-quarters. He took barely a second to frown at the tired bags under his eyes, before the scars taught his attention. He could still spot where the stitches had melted in his skin, in thin black lines that traced perfectly the tattoos he had seen on Malay's face. Draenen had done a very good job medicating him, and judging on their look, Roy estimated that the scars would eventually turn white. He had seen worse.

The rest of the walls of the room were occupied by dressers, each topped by several miscellaneous ornaments. A changing room, maybe? No one of the items he could see would give him an idea of the owner of the room.

In a corner there was a small door. He could've almost missed it with how low it was. A plain, smooth square of wood with a thin doorknob, with two slits on the top to let the air through. It was concealed in a corner next to a dresser and facing one side of the desk. One would have needed to squat to pass through.

Frowning, but relieved of the easiness with which he had managed to get up – almost as if that place itself gave him new energy –, Roy left the chair, and crouched to look at the door. He had to put himself on all-four to get to it, wishing to take a peek at what was outside from the slits.

Just as his face was close enough though, a figure on the other side of the door appeared in the slit, staring at him with big, golden eyes. Roy gasped, and pulled back to sit, staring wide-eyed at them. The figure giggled. A familiar voice, he was sure of it. Then the figure straightened up, and for a moment Roy could only see short green pants, before the legs wearing them scurried away.

- W-wait….! - Licking his lips, Roy grabbed the doorknob and pulled the door open, crawling outside and finding himself in a hallway leading to two staircases, leading down and upstairs.

He was pretty sure the figure had taken the right, and so he climbed on the stairs leading up. There was a strange scent in the air, one he couldn't quite figure out. His attempts to guess quickly stopped as he finally found the other presence in that wing of the mansion with him.

The black-haired child was standing against the window, with its hand relaxedly folded on the sill. Its feet were bare, and one foot absently swung left and right as he stared outside. When Roy cautiously approached, he turned to stare up at him with the same vivid golden eyes he had seen before.

The musketeer frowned. - Aderyn…? Why are you here…?

The kid beamed at him. - We have a guest! - He said, turning to look outside again in excitement.

Roy observed him for a bit, and then took another look around the corridor, before approaching to look out of the window. That side of the house faced the front yard, much smaller compared to the one in the back of the Palace of Sleep. There was a small wooden bridge just past the gate that gave access to the manor. And standing there was a figure in Immortal Robes.

The man was well aware that somewhere in that mansion there had to be an Immortal, the one who had stopped the Mist and disappeared. But he had never seen him before, so that had induced him to think that he'd be in the deepest part of the manor, where he still hadn't received access.

So, that other Immortal could be the only other Immortal he knew to have entered the Mist. While it pained him to see Kenjii there, he also felt relieved. After all, it was to find him that he had decided to not take the medicine of Draenen's brother that night; to have found him so quickly would have given him better chances to help him out of there.

"If there is a way out of here."

He observed the younger Hume outside. Kenjii seemed aware of the dream, and conscious. He was staring up at the structure with a circumspect demeanor. Could he not see him through the window? It was pretty foggy out there, so Roy assumed as much. But there were other matters at hand, such as his state. He still wore his keffiyeh, and to see his brand was impossible.

He didn't have many hopes to get an answer out of the kid next to him. Aderyn was an illusion the Mist-maker had made for him, and as such Roy suspected that the vision's knowledge would be limited to his own. Or, maybe of the Mist-maker's himself, which is what lead him to give it a try.

- Was he branded….? - He asked quietly.

- He was not invited. - Chimed the children, propping on its toes to look at Kenjii as he walked closer to the manor. - He followed Samantha. She is trying to hide from him. Maybe they are playing Hide and Seek.

Roy frowned. - Who is Samantha…?

Aderyn turned to look at him as Kenjii disappeared from their sight, tilting his head in a mischievous expression. - The dancing pixie.