In His Name

Chapter 37 - Rest for the weary

Rosco sways precariously, sitting heavily on a stone bench nearby. For a second, he expected the bench to crumble under his weight. It doesn't of course, because the massive weight on his shoulders is not a tangible one. He mostly tries to avoid big philosophical thinking, too many dark holes in his mind he might fall into. So, Rosco had never considered the weight of a soul before. And now that he is, He's finding it rather difficult to equate the weight of them. It's nothing like carrying a heavy burden in your arms. It's draining, but not in the way muscles grow weary with use. He's starting to get tired but not sleepy. Hayden had told him to say something if it became too much for him, but how is Rosco supposed to know how much is too much? The whole thing is so alien to him he can't even really sort out how he feels to himself much less try to express the sensation to someone else.

Hayden works quickly, as if sensing Rosco's decaying energy, but it still takes time to work through the entire room. He lays a hand on all the souls still remining. Their bodies become solid again and he whispers a few words Rosco doesn't understand. Rosco means to watch the whole process, since he can't do anything else he wants to offer what support he can, but his eyes start refusing to stay open.

He wakes up to Hayden tenderly carding his fingers through his messy curls, "It is not yet time to sleep, Rosco." The god's voice is soft and smooth.

Smiling sleepily to himself, "Sorry," Rosco mumbles, sitting up from the bench and rubbing his eyes, "I was trying not to."

Hayden smiles, almost painfully sweet, "You are doing very well," letting his gaze trail over the souls gathered around them, "They are very content with you."

"I know," Rosco yawns as Hayden helps him to his feet, "I can feel it."

Hayden stills, looking down at the boy more intently, "You can?"

The question puts Rosco on high alert, waking him up fully, "Yes?" he admits wearily, "Should I not?"

"It is not bad," Hayden reassures quickly, "I was just, not expecting it." Dismissing the thought with a shake of his head, "Come, it is time to take our travelers to their resting place."

The doorway shuts behind them with a clack. Hayden keeps a hand at Rosco's elbow and Rosco is too tired to protest it. Just letting himself enjoy the comfort. Hayden had brought them back to the river, not the same place Dora had brought Rosco to before, judging by the angle of the water, but a similar distance from it. The water is just as beautiful and even more enticing than it was the first time. The pattern of the lights almost drawing him into a sleepy trance.

"I will take them now." Hayden commands, holding out his hand.

Rosco looks between the offered hand and the water, "Can't I carry them a little further, we're almost there?"

Hayden denies him with single shake of his head, "You can come no closer." The god says firmly, "you have already done more than is fair to ask of you, l will take them the rest of the way."

Rosco frowns but does as he is told, setting his hand in the god's waiting one. The souls drift away from him, surrounding the god in his stead. Rosco sways again, suddenly feeling so light he might just drift away but Hayden holds him firmly in place.

"Wait here." Hayden orders, lowering the boy to sit in the purple grass, "And don't listen. The lullaby will be hard to ignore now that your soul is weary."

The boy nods, pulling Hayden's coat a little tighter around his shoulders, it hadn't been this cold when he came here the first time. Either Dora had been keeping it warm for him, or Hayden was still really upset, and judging by the way Hayden's eyes have stayed black, Rosco feels safe in assuming it's the latter. Dora's lantern had dispelled at some point in all the commotion so as Hayden moves away from him, he takes all the light along with him. The god's kneeling silhouette dark against the water's edge. Rosco forgets the water, the lights, the lullaby, the cold. He'd known Hayden is a god on the first night he'd met him. Had seen him command spirits and elements, heard him named God of death by one who knew him. Yet for the first time it's really resonating. Humming in his bones and the depths of his soul. Knowing a thing and really knowing a thing are not always the same, but as he watches Hayden whisper over every soul and pass them into the water, the sobering truth settles in his heart, becoming true in a way he's not sure he's prepared to deal with.