The workshop was warm, almost too warm, but Barius sat directly in front of the hearth as if cold lived beneath his skin. The firelight painted bronze flickers across his cheekbones and cast his shadow long against the wall. His posture was rigid, one hand pressed to his temple, jaw locked tight.
The pain had passed, but the aftershock lingered.
Nyla hovered in the doorway for a moment, gripping a wooden tray with knuckles gone white. She'd changed out of her herb-stained apron for a simple wool dress split at the sides, worn over soft leggings that kept her warm. The dress had a lace-up bodice and sleeves pushed up past her forearms. It was a healer's version of tidy. Her pulse had steadied, but her breath still felt shallow, like her fear hadn't quite caught up with her body.
She didn't like seeing him like that, bent forward, silent and haunted.
She slid the tray onto the table beside him, slow and careful. "Eat," she said softly.
He raised his head a fraction.
On the tray: roasted potatoes with herbs, soft carrots, slices of slow-cooked beef with jus glistening at the edges, and a hunk of warm bread.
A real meal. Not broth or bitter healing stews. Something to stimulate the appetite a bit more.
"I wasn't sure what you could stomach," Nyla added quickly. "But you haven't eaten properly in days."
Barius blinked, eyes moving from the tray to her face and back again. His voice, when it came, was rougher than before. "Thank you, I appreciate that."
She poured tea. "Eat as much or as little as you can."
Barius nodded once, but didn't reach for the food yet. Instead, his gaze drifted back to the fire, pupils narrowing like he was seeing something else layered over the flames.
Nyla lowered herself onto the stool opposite him.
"Tell me what happened," she murmured. "If you can."
He leaned an elbow on his knee, fingers curling against his brow, unreadable tension in his shoulders. "I saw...a place. A ridge I recognized. Snow. Training. A voice telling me-"
His jaw clicked. His breath stuttered.
Nyla reached forward before she could think, gently touching his wrist.
The contact steadied him.
His posture eased by a fraction.
"I don't remember it completely," Barius continued, softer now. "But I remember the way he spoke. Like he expected something of me. Something heavy. Something...dangerous."
Nyla swallowed. "Is that why it hurt?"
The depth of his eyes flicked toward her, searching her face for something he couldn't name, then dropped to his hands. "I don't know..."
She withdrew her hand, realizing too late she'd been holding onto him longer than necessary. Her pulse tripped. "So we don't force the memory," she said quickly. "We wait for it to come back naturally."
"And if it doesn't?"
"It will."
He gave a small, tired smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "You sound certain..."
Nyla's lips quirked, "Because I'm usually right,"
A silence settled between them, not heavy, not uncomfortable. Warm. Charged in a way that made Nyla overly aware of how close their stools were, how the firelight softened the angles of his face, how his breath grew steadier with each passing moment she stayed near.
"What is your earliest memory?"
Barius eyes became far away, yellow flames reflecting off his glistening eyes, "...you." he said. "I woke, and you were there. I know that's not my first...I can almost feel them in my mind, blocked behind a wall."
Nyla knew memory spells and potions, but using them was another art in itself - one Nyla couldn't guarantee had good results. "Perhaps someone in Astai will have a cure. A specialist."
"Mm," he made a quiet noise but she didn't think he was listening.
"What will you do, once you go back?"
"Assuming I start remembering who I am - I only know my name because of you..."
"Only because you told me it," Nyla said, "The memories are in there, Barius. It's only been a few days since I found you."
"How long does it usually take people to remember?"
"It's different for everyone. You're strong and able minded. I have no doubt they will return, just as they did today, but pushing yourself to remember does you no good."
Barius sighed, as if that comforted him at least a little. "I fear I have no choice now."
"No," Nyla chuckled, "You don't."
Barius looked sideways at her, his own grin curving faintly at the corners, resigned, tired, then winced suddenly, sharp enough that his hand flew to the cut above his brow.
Nyla reacted before he even finished drawing breath.
"Oh, hold still," she murmured, leaning in before he could protest.
She didn't rise or shift away this time. She stayed right there on the stool beside him, close enough that their knees already brushed.
He tried tugging back out of instinct, but she placed a steadying hand on his jaw, turning his face toward the firelight.
"Stop moving. Let me see."
Her thumb grazed the rough line of stubble along his cheek as she angled his head. His breath caught, not from pain this time, but from being touched gently for the first time in...he couldn't remember.
He softened under her hand without meaning to.
"You're still bleeding."
"I'm fine," he muttered, though his voice had dropped low and quiet.
"You say that, and then you prove me wrong," she countered, leaning a little closer.
She smelled faintly of pine resin and something warm, her salve or her skin, he couldn't tell. He felt the heat of her knee against his own, the warmth of her breath brushing his cheek.
His heartbeat spiked before he could stop it. He didn't pull away. Not yet.
Nyla pushed a stray lock of his dark hair back from the cut so she could see it better. Her fingers grazed his temple, light, careful and he inhaled sharper than he meant to.
Her brow lifted. "Did that hurt?"
"No," he said quickly. Too quickly.
Now she hesitated, just a fraction, realizing the closeness. Their faces were inches apart. Her hand was still on his cheek. His breath mingled with hers. And her lips, he stared at them for a second too long before dragging his eyes back up, face flushing hot.
Nyla's breath stuttered.
"Just...hold still," she whispered, voice suddenly gentler.
He did.
He held so still he barely breathed, letting her turn his face toward her again. She reached for a clean cloth in the basin. Her thumb rested near the corner of his brow as she dabbed the wet edge at a smear of drying blood.
His pulse jumped, she felt it in the tremor of his throat.
He angled his head slightly to help her see the cut - and the movement brought them inches away from each others faces.
Not touching.
But close enough her breath caught audibly.
Both of them froze, but Barius didn't take his eyes off her.
Nyla's eyes widened a fraction, surprise and something softer flickering there. Something she didn't know how to name yet. Something she didn't want to admit. Her lips parted as if to speak but no sound came.
For a heartbeat, everything tightened around the space between them. Her palm on his cheek. His breath brushing her mouth. That faint, startled inhale they seemed to share. A subtle lean - barely there, unthinking, inevitable.
Then she blinked hard and drew back just enough to break the spell, color rushing into her cheeks. He exhaled slowly, like he'd been holding the moment still with his breath alone.
"Sorry," she said quickly, putting herself back a pace, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "I wasn't - I was just trying to see the wound."
"I know," Barius began, his voice was deeper now. "I didn't - I wasn't trying to-"
"I know," she echoed softly.
Silence fell. Not necessarily awkward or uncomfortable, but certainly charged, warm and confusing.
She reached for her supplies just to have something to do with her hands. He watched her for a moment longer than necessary, a faint, dazzled confusion settling over his features, like he was only just noticing something about her he hadn't before.
Nyla cleared her throat. "You...should rest."
He nodded, slow, eyes dropping to her lips for the briefest flicker before he forced himself to look away. "I will," he said.
But neither of them moved for a few seconds.
Nyla's legs moved without thought, she rose into a standing position. "I should get some rest. Try to sleep, eat something. Goodnight, Barius..."
Despite herself, Nyla could've sworn there was a small smile on his face, "Goodnight, My Lady."
Nyla slipped out before the moment could swallow her whole.
Barius watched her go, jaw tight, eyes softer than he'd ever admit.
She closed the door gently behind her, feeling his voice all the way down her spine and steadied herself with a grounding breath.