Chapter 49

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The next time Fetmar woke, the room was bright with the sun and he was mostly alone. No one was around him but he could hear the gentle scratching of writing to the side. Slowly, he tried to look up but he couldn't see properly so he twisted in the blankets. Kicking some out of the way, he found the Winglord sitting to the side with a small desk, writing on some parchment. His hair was back up and he was wearing distinctly royal clothes. It was a strange look to see the second in command of the Dmar army wearing such clothes.

Blue eyes flicked over to him and Fetmar could feel himself flushing embarrassed for some reason. "Morning?" he offered, feeling ten years younger and facing his father after sleeping in too late. He also felt severely underdressed for that moment. He was shirtless, apparently having wriggled his top off during the night due to the heat of sharing a bed with so many people. 

"Afternoon," Tai'ray smiled amusedly. "It's about midday now," he teased, eyes pointedly looking over to the side. "The boys should be back soon."

Fetmar followed his eyes and found a pile of clothing waiting for him. Refusing to blush, Fetmar reached over and grabbed the clothes, pulling the top on. He wasn't really sure what to say now. He stood slowly and glanced over at the doors to the side. "Is there somewhere I can wash up?" he asked.

"Eyeri's room," Tai'ray said, gesturing to a door. "Be quick," he added. "Yerir'o wants to talk to us about your brothers soon. I was going to wake you up soon."

"That's... Yes, sir," Fetmar nodded firmly, feeling less like a teenager with a top on and with the news that Yerir'o wanted to talk to him about his brothers. 

That was never a good thing. Fetmar lived without knowing where his brothers were most of the time. Yerir'o had been the one before to tell him when something was wrong. Something was already wrong. His brother had been tied to the k'nairi with no hopes of walking free and he was soon to be. The other three were on their own now. Fetmar gulped as it hit him in the chest and quickly pushed into the room Tai'ray had gestured to. 

He collapsed onto his knees and leant on the bed, just breathing as tears threatened to fall and it felt like something was gripping his heart. He almost couldn't breathe as he leaned his head against the blue blankets on the bed. He had chosen to live but he had also chosen to abandon his brothers to whatever fates were installed for them. He could not help them now. All he could do was pray to the gods that they would be safe, and hope Yerir'o continued to help them where he could.

It took a few moments for him to recover but slowly his heart felt like it was about to explode and his eyes stopped trying to water. He took deep gulping breaths of air and forced himself to push off the bed. Panic would not help now. He needed to move forward. He stood up and reached down to change into the rest of the clothes. 

They were thankfully mostly human style, with baggy pants and soft leather boots that were likely more expensive than anything he had ever owned before. It almost stung how soft they were. These boots weren't going to cause weeks of blisters to break in. They were comfortable from the first moment he put them on. He grabbed the coat and pulled it on tightly. Something didn't feel right here. He didn't like this. 

"Fet?" a soft voice called. Fetmar turned and looked at Eyeri. Eyeri looked at him with an emotion Fetmar wasn't sure of in his eyes. He dived at him and suddenly Fetmar had his arms full of his youngest. Fetmar wrapped his arms around Eyeri and picked him up, holding him close.

"Hey kid," he murmured into Eyeri's hair. "You doing alright?" Eyeri nodded, pressing tight, like he thought Fetmar was going to disappear the moment he let go. That made Fetmar's chest hurt too. "Hey, Eyeri?" Fetmar said worried slightly.

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