12. Laurence
Darkness blacker than a moonless night filled the room as the faint red glow of lurking eyes cut through the abyss like shards of the moonlight of a blood moon. Laurence could feel his heart begin to race as the hairs on his arms shifted, standing on end. The eyes were a sight he'd seen only once before, in the depths of sleep, yet here it was, manifesting before him again. "What is it you want?" he called out, his voice now tainted with a mixture of fear and curiosity.
"I want nothing more than to be side by side with you, Laurence," came the ghostly reply. It echoed through the darkness like the crash of waves in the distance. "I am the darkness that stands within the light. A shadow that swallows the darkness of evil."
"Who are you?" Laurence questioned, withdrawing from the direction of the voice. "If I'm to help you, shouldn't I know your name?"
The silhouette of a wolf appeared from the shadows and responded, his voice as mysterious as the shadows themselves, "My name will never be important, Laurence. I am the first and the last wolf, the origin of all."
"Origin," Laurence murmured, the word hanging heavy in the air as he attempted to make sense of the large dark wolf before him. But before he could grasp the full meaning, the wolf vanished into the darkness, leaving Laurence to wrestle with his thoughts.
As he blinked away the remnants of the vision, he found himself sprawled on the floor, bathed in the dying light of the setting sun. Beside him, Cora and Mazella stirred from their sleep, their eyes filled with concern and confusion.
"You bad dream?" Maz asked.
"Yeah, I guess you could call it that." His mind was still clouded, but the rumble of his empty stomach brought him back to the present.
With a gentle hand, he lifted Cora onto the table, ensuring she wouldn't be crushed as he shifted. His stomach grumbled, the last thing he had consumed was the Nimbat, but that was when he was a wolf. He hadn't noticed it until now, but his hunger had turned into a nagging sensation that began to gnaw away at him. He looked over at the empty fireplace and then looked at Mazella.
"You think you can get it going?"
The nimbat excitedly fluttered his wings as he took flight from the table, his agile little form darting across the room before landing in front of the fireplace. "Maz not sure what want do."
Laurence looked down at him. "Well, you light the logs on fire so we can cook."
Mazella lifted his hands out in front of himself and yelled, "F-fire." A perplexed look crossed his face as his voice trembled with uncertainty. "Fire," he repeated, his tone rising in pitch as he strained to command the flames into existence.
Laurence continued to stare at him. "Can't you start fire with your breath or something?"
Mazella's eyes widened in realisation as Laurence's suggestion sparked a memory. "Oh yeah," he muttered, his cheeks puffing up with newfound determination. With a forceful exhale, a fire ball shot out of his mouth, colliding with the fireplace in a dazzling display of flames and sparks. The impact sent ash and embers scattering across the room, illuminating the darkness with a warm glow.
Laurence stood beside the table where Cora perched, watching the spectacle unfold with a mixture of awe and concern. He couldn't help but feel a stab of worry for their safety amidst the chaos. As the flames danced before them, he turned to Cora, her expression as much a mirror of his own.
"Has it been a while since you've don't that?" Laurence asked, his voice tinged with curiosity.
"Yes, Maz not do often. Maz got trouble when little. Maz play dragon."
Laurence watched as Cora wiped the ash from her face, her features contorted in annoyance. "And burnt a house down?" she muttered in a sarcastic tone.
He turned his attention to the flaming logs scattered across the floor, picking them up one by one and tossing them back into the fireplace before anything else could catch fire. "Spuds?" Laurence called out as he made his way toward the door.
He watched Cora nod her head then looked at Mazella. "Who Spuds."
"Potatoes."
"Spuds is potatoes? That weird name," the nimbat said.
Laurence supressed a chuckle, and exchanged a knowing glance with Cora. "No, he was asking if we wanted to eat some potatoes," Cora explained patiently.
Laurence chuckled to himself as he walked through the door, listening to the tiny elf explain what potatoes were to the Nimbat. With a shake of his head, Laurence stepped outside into the cool evening air. He made his way to a small vegetable garden adjacent to the plaith's house, retrieving a fork and a bucket. He plunged the fork into the earth and began to unearth a handful of potatoes.
Laurence's heart skipped a beat as the orc's voice cut through the evening air behind him. He turned to face the plaith, his expression masked in a mixture of surprise and apprehension. "My apologies, only taking the minimum. I hope you don't mind," he replied, attempting to remain polite.
The plaith shrugged, a smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I guess I will just add it to Yadiel's tab."
A nervous energy pulsed through Laurence as he shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "How's Avni doing?" he asked.
"She's up, just trying to get her bearings. Her essence, along with her body has taken a beating," the plaith responded, his gaze drifting off into the distance.
"She will be good to travel?"
