The room was shrouded in darkness, the faint glow of a single candle flickering in the corner, casting long, wavering shadows across the walls. The air was thick with the smell of herbs and ointments, a mixture of hope and desperation. Taniwha lay motionless in the bed, his body wrapped in bandages, wounds hastily patched but still fresh. His chest rose and fell steadily, though his face remained pale, drained of color and life since the brutal fight.
Heizenburg sat close by, his weary eyes watching over his unconscious comrade with a heaviness that spoke of sleepless nights and guilt. The flickering light danced across his stern face, but the weariness in his expression was unmistakable. A soft knock echoed from the doorway, and Heizenburg barely turned his head.
Venerem stepped quietly into the room, his broad frame outlined by the dim light spilling in from the hallway. His steps were slow, measured, as though he were afraid to disturb the silence that seemed to cling to the room.
"How is he?" Venerem asked, his voice low, rough around the edges from exhaustion and concern.
Heizenburg sighed, running a hand through his hair before replying, "His breathing has gotten better, but he still hasn't woken up yet." His voice was steady, but beneath the calm exterior, there was an undercurrent of worry he couldn't quite mask.
Venerem crossed his arms, standing by the doorway as he looked over Taniwha. The big man's face was hard to read, but the subtle tension in his jaw betrayed his concern. After a moment of silence, he nodded slowly. He stood there for a few minutes longer, the weight of the moment pressing down on both men like a heavy, invisible shroud.
Finally, Venerem turned to leave, his back to the room as he spoke quietly, "It's not your fault, kid. Our job... it's a risky one. I know it, you know it, and he knows it. What happened out there..." He paused, as if searching for the right words. "It's the life we chose. Get some rest." His voice was firm, but there was an underlying gentleness to it—a rare softness that Heizenburg hadn't often heard from him.
Heizenburg remained silent, watching Venerem disappear into the hallway before finally standing up himself. He lingered for a moment longer by Taniwha's side, staring at the peaceful rise and fall of his chest, wishing he could somehow will his friend back to consciousness. But there was nothing more he could do tonight. He needed rest, just as Venerem had said.
Heizenburg walked out of the room, his footsteps heavy as he made his way down the narrow corridor. The hallway was dim, the walls lined with old portraits and tapestries that had seen better days. Each step echoed faintly off the wooden floor, and the weight of the day's events pressed down on him like an iron cloak. When he reached his own room, he pushed the door open, the hinges creaking slightly in protest.
The room was quiet, colder than he remembered, as though the warmth had long since fled. He closed the door behind him with a soft click and stood in the silence for a moment, letting it wash over him. The stillness was unnerving after the chaos of the battle, but it was a welcome reprieve. He placed his sword carefully on the desk by the window, the metal gleaming faintly in the candlelight.
Without another thought, Heizenburg collapsed onto his bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. The exhaustion hit him all at once, his muscles aching, his mind heavy with unanswered questions and lingering guilt. He closed his eyes, the darkness closing in around him like a comforting embrace. His thoughts began to blur, sinking deeper into the void of sleep. But as the silence deepened, a faint noise echoed through the still night air—a distant sound, barely audible over the pounding of his own heartbeat in his ears. The sound of the tavern door swinging open with a heavy thud, followed by the muffled footsteps of those who entered.
Heizenburg stirred slightly, but he did not wake. In his exhaustion, the noise drifted away, swallowed by the darkness. Outside, the night grew colder, and the world beyond the walls of the inn stirred with new, unknown dangers.