The Sage's Vow

24.1 || Enough

WHEN CALE AND Mara were younger, her only thirteen and him fourteen, he'd known her habits almost as well as his own. This was back when his father trusted him to help her in the ways of a Paladin. Back when he looked at her and saw that trembling girl hunkering in a closet, terrified both by the changes occurring within her and because of what her parents had done. He'd watched her so closely then.

Five years had passed, though. Five years in which he'd been at the Himalayan Sanctum, and many of the things he'd known about her had fallen to the corners of his mind. Sometime in the last three weeks of constant exposure, though, he'd relearned some things.

Such as how to tell when she was faking her sleep.

He knew her breaths weren't deep enough, that she hadn't relaxed quite right into her shoulder like she always did, that her nose wasn't doing that little scrunch it always did when she could have been on the precipice of waking up but drifted back off, the only other time the other habits ceased.

Had he really been watching her that much without realizing it?

Wasn't he doing it at this very moment?

She'd given him plenty of reason to now, though. He wanted to give her space. She clearly wanted it if she was going as far as to fake her sleep, and he'd seen the way she'd shut down around Josh.

But he couldn't forget her face when she'd first broken free from the fear devourer's hold. The dawning understanding quickly swallowed by panic. Then the absolutely sickening devastation. He'd been sure she was going to scream, to collapse. Tears welling in her eyes that he'd had no time to let her shed because Josh was missing in the midst of a monster-invested fog.

Except she could have, because all of them were safe.

Ezraim growled his discontent. Cale released a quiet sigh. He'd been down that road of pointless guilt before, and Ezraim had already pointed out how impossible that knowledge had been to discern on his own.

I know, Cale said.

You all saw horrible things today, little pebble, Ezraim said, voice gentle but stern. I doubt any of you will sleep easy, but you do need to get rest. You have a dangerous road still ahead of you.

Despite what Ezraim said, Mara hadn't been sleeping for almost a week. Cale's mind flashed back to the lifeless body of the crazed man. That death had triggered this, he knew it. And Cale longed to crawl the few feet separating him from Mara, to ask her to fill in the few missing puzzle pieces for him.

But she wanted that space. And Ezraim had summoned other thoughts to Cale's mind.

He saw flashes of that dark mind space. Heard the whispers of his parents. Of Mara. Xander. Ezraim. Even others such as Josh and Joel.

"Why didn't you succeed?"

"Couldn't you have done more?"

"It isn't enough. You're not enough."

So many other weighted whispers, bearing down on his shoulders until he wanted to rip off his ears. Then tear out his eyes as he watched them walk away. The worst, though, was the same scene that occasionally haunted his nightmares. Even more so in the last seven months.

"It's always about you, isn't it? The perfect son. If you're everything they ever wanted, if you're so perfect, then what am I doing here?" Peter, a sneer on his face, before he spun to leave. Because no, Cale wasn't enough. If he was, why was Peter walking away?