Chapter 31
I Want to Sleep
When the alchemist reached the bedside, he leaned slightly towards Kaep.
The movement was precise, almost mechanical. His shadow covered part of the young man's face as he observed him silently for a few seconds.
He said nothing at first; he just looked at him, with that gaze that seemed to pierce rather than see. Kaep held the contact, uncomfortable, unsure whether he should thank him, pretend he was fine, or simply stay still.
Finally, the alchemist spoke.
—You look better now —he said in a calm voice, without losing his analytical tone—. It seems that wound closed better this time.
Kaep blinked, confused by the comment.
"This time"?
The man's tone was that of someone who had already expected that result, as if he had seen the process before.
The way he said it left Kaep with the feeling that the comment wasn't so much an observation… but more like a verification.
Remembering what had happened, Kaep brought his right hand to his head.
The touch returned the sensation of a firm, dry bandage. There was no moisture or stabbing pain, only a slight discomfort when pressing.
Of course… he had passed out from blood loss.
That explained everything —or at least, part of it—.
—You think so? —he replied, arching an eyebrow while carefully feeling the wound.
His voice came out hoarse, somewhat worn, but with an attempt at humor that didn't quite land.
The alchemist watched him without changing his expression, as if he had already expected that kind of response. His eyes followed every one of Kaep's movements with surgical attention.
—Yes —the alchemist replied with complete calm—, although I should tell you we had to use stitches to make sure it didn't open again.
—What? —Kaep looked at him with a mix of surprise and alarm, his hand still on his head.
—You heard me —the alchemist continued, so serene he almost sounded indifferent—. Oh, and don't worry, we used disinfected thread in hot water to sew the wound.
Kaep blinked several times.
—Sew…? My head?
The alchemist gave a slight nod.
—We couldn't just let you keep bleeding out.
Kaep fell silent for a few seconds, caught between disbelief and resignation.
Finally, he let out a forced laugh.
—Well… I guess thanks for the fix.
The other didn't respond, he just crossed his arms and examined him again, as if he were still evaluating whether the "fix" would hold.
—By the way… thread? —asked Kaep, frowning—. Where did you get thread?
The alchemist looked at him without answering.
He only blinked once.
—… —
Kaep waited.
—… —
Nothing.
—Hey… —he insisted, sitting up a little, with a mix of curiosity, suspicion, and unease.
The alchemist finally exhaled slowly, his tone unchanged.
—Relax —he said at last—. A thread is a thread, after all.
Kaep watched him in silence, trying to decipher whether that was meant to reassure him or worry him more.
The alchemist's calm was so natural it made it impossible to tell if he was being completely serious or not.
—Oooh...?, Do you really want to know? —asked the alchemist, and a barely perceptible hint of amusement seeped into his voice.
Kaep froze.
He opened his mouth, then closed it.
He moved his head a little to one side, then to the other, as if weighing the risks behind that question.
His face was a parade of grimaces: doubt, curiosity, fear, resignation.
The alchemist watched it all in silence, with a slight smile that didn't quite manage to be friendly.
Finally, Kaep sighed, let his shoulders slump, and murmured:
—Better not.
He preferred not to keep asking. For some reason, he sensed he wouldn't like the real answer.
The alchemist nodded slowly, satisfied, as if that was the answer he had expected from the beginning.
—A wise decision. —he commented with a calm that did absolutely nothing to reassure him.
Kaep averted his gaze, trying to convince himself he had done the right thing by not insisting.
Although, deep down, his curiosity wanted to know.
—"A wise decision"!? —repeated Kaep, jolting in reaction.
He turned his head sharply until he was face to face with the alchemist. Their eyes met, and for a second the air seemed to stand still.
The alchemist, unperturbed, held his gaze with total serenity… and then raised a hand, making a casual okay gesture with his fingers, accompanied by a slight tilt of his head.
Not a word. Just that gesture.
Kaep watched him in silence, unsure whether to feel relieved or insulted.
—…I don't know if that reassures me or worries me more —he murmured at last, letting himself fall back onto the bed.
The alchemist let out a brief snort that, for him, was the equivalent of a laugh.
—Both are valid —he said finally, before straightening up and looking towards the window again, as if the matter was now closed.
Kaep followed him with his gaze for a moment, still bewildered.
For some reason, that casual calm was annoying.
—Alright, getting to the point —said the alchemist, turning his face slightly towards Kaep—, good thing you're awake. That means you can take over the watch shift.
Kaep blinked, still processing.
—Were you on guard? —he asked, sitting up a little.
—Yes. —the alchemist replied without embellishment—. After we all attended to you, and the others… and then saw off those who didn't survive, we've been rotating shifts to rest while we waited for Bairon and the others to return.
The tone in which he said "those who didn't survive" was flat, without drama. Not out of coldness, but because there was no strength left for solemnity.
Kaep lowered his gaze for a moment, letting those words settle. Around him, the hall felt larger, emptier.
—So… none of them have returned yet? —he asked, although he already knew the answer.
The alchemist shook his head with a slight movement.
The silence that followed was heavy.
—So they haven't returned? —repeated Kaep, with a knot in his voice. The anguish was noticeable even in the way he clenched his fists on the sheets.
—No… —respondied the alchemist, crossing his arms—. Still… none.
He made a brief pause before adding, with a calm that didn't match the anger filtering into his expression:
—What have returned… and keep on returning, are those fish monsters.
Kaep went still. The mere memory of those beings made him tense up immediately. The image of Korper, the din on the other side of the door,
the fish monster that attacked him in the room where he first met the alchemist, that slimy, gray skin, all came rushing back to his head.
Instinctively, he looked around for any sign of chaos in the hall.
He hadn't noticed it before, but…
"A battle camp barely holding on."
The candles were still lit, the wounded people were breathing, and no screams or blows could be heard from outside.
He exhaled slowly, forcing himself to calm down.
—I suppose… they managed to keep them away —he said finally, more to convince himself than out of genuine confidence.
The alchemist gave a slight nod.
—For now, yes. But I doubt that will last long.
Kaep swallowed.
"For now," he repeated mentally, as he took another look, now noticing the pitiable state of the hall with new eyes.
—Did you notice? —said the alchemist, with a tone that wasn't a question but a confirmation—. Well, they've attacked us several times… but all of them have been the two-limbed ones, unlike the one that supposedly left the redhead in that state.
Kaep looked at him attentively.
"Two-limbed?"
His mind pieced it together almost instantly.
"Two, huh… like the one that threw that coral spear at me in the alchemist's room," he thought.
The memory was immediate: the silhouette, the wet sound of its footsteps, the stench it emitted, the way it moved.
A shiver ran down his spine.
—How many? —he murmured, barely audible.
The alchemist heard him, or perhaps sensed it, because his response was almost automatic:
—More keep appearing. And if what you told your uncle is true… then there will be more and more…
Kaep fell silent. The image of the hull from the outside with those things climbing and getting inside the ship tightened his chest.
The alchemist exhaled and leaned forward, resting his forearms on his thighs.
The movement was heavy, lacking its usual precision, as if his body was starting to demand payment for so many hours awake.
—Although it also turns out —he said in an almost resigned tone— that the third-graders are having a hard time dealing with them.
Kaep raised an eyebrow.
—With the two-limbed ones?
—Exactly. —The alchemist nodded, running a hand through his blue hair, messing it up even more—. So I've had to help every time, which has left my sleep cycle in a deplorable state, despite the shift changes.
His voice sounded controlled, but tired. That kind of tiredness that doesn't just come from lack of sleep, but from not being able to trust that closing your eyes is safe.
Kaep watched him in silence.
—I guess that explains why you look like you're about to fall asleep standing up —commented the young man, trying to lighten the mood.
The alchemist let out a soft snort.
—Although I can deal with those things without resorting to my materials… —the alchemist continued, letting his shoulders slump slightly—. So many hours are exhausting me.
For a moment, he fell silent. Then he looked up.
His eyes, tired but still firm, met Kaep's.
The contact was direct, without pretense.
There was none of that analytical coldness from before, nor that clinical distance with which he usually spoke. There was something more: weight, weariness, an involuntary honesty that wasn't seeking pity.
Kaep held his gaze, surprised.
He hadn't expected to see that kind of tiredness in someone like him.
The silence between them stretched for a few more seconds, until the alchemist blinked and, almost as if he realized what he was doing, averted his gaze again.
He returned to his usual tone, dry and controlled.
—Anyway… it was that, or stay staring at the ceiling counting cracks while the others rest.
Kaep let out a light laugh, more from nerves than humor.
—That's why I wanted to ask you… —said the alchemist, passing a hand over his face with a slow gesture again, almost clumsy—. No, rather… ask you if you could take my shift. I want to sleep.
Kaep looked at him with some surprise.
It wasn't so much because of the request itself, but how he said it.
The alchemist's voice no longer sounded firm or measured, but worn out, cracking at times between fatigue and the effort to maintain composure.
For a moment, Kaep mentally compared him to the man he remembered from a few hours ago: the one who gave orders calmly, who controlled every detail and spoke without a hint of doubt.
He found it hard to believe it was the same person.
Now, facing him, he only saw someone tired.
And yet, he was asking for permission, not for help.
Kaep nodded slowly, with a short gesture.
—Yes… alright. Go on, sleep for a while —he replied, softer than he expected to sound.
The alchemist watched him for a moment, gauging if he was serious. Then he just nodded, as if that was enough.
as Kaep was getting down from the bed
—Why me? —asked Kaep, tilting his head.
The alchemist blinked a couple of times, as if he hadn't expected the question, and straightened up a bit more, sitting on the bed.
His gaze softened slightly, though his expression remained tired.
—Because the girl you were with earlier mentioned that you are a Marked of the Academy —he replied naturally, as if mentioning an unimportant detail.
Kaep tensed.
The term hit him heavily, like a blunt blow to the chest.
The alchemist continued without stopping:
—So I assume you'll be better at dealing with the monsters than the rest… even if you are a third-grader.
The silence that followed was thick.
Kaep averted his gaze, uncomfortable.
He didn't like how that sounded, nor the way the alchemist said it, as if being Marked was a fact that justified putting him on the front line without hesitation.
—Right… of course —he finally replied, in a low tone.
He didn't deny it, but he didn't confirm it either.
The gaps in his memory had increased; he didn't even recognize the meaning of being a Marked.
The alchemist, for his part, seemed to grasp more than Kaep had said.
—You don't have to explain —he added with a slight wave of his hand—. Just stay alert. If anything approaches, make sure it doesn't reach the others.
Having said that, he turned over while lying down and covered himself with a blanket.
Kaep watched him, unsure whether to feel flattered… or used.
"So the Marked are stronger than the rest…? So I am strong?"