The pace of Lark’s heart was painfully fast and his limbs felt like lead as his body seized awake.

Looking around the room he saw black curtains, a canopy bed, furniture cleaned spotless despite its obvious lack of use. The curtains were closed but he could see light peeling out from the bottom. He wore soft clothes, soaked in sweat from restless sleep. Head pounding he leaned over and held a hand to it, groaning. “Augh… where am I?”

There was no one around but the decor seemed too fancy to be a general hospital. The loneliness became palpable and he called out a feeble, scratchy plea. A moment passed before the doorknob rattled. 

“Ah, you’re awake.”

Shocked to see the king of demons themself, Lark scrambled to fix his matted hair and get a bit more presentable. “O-oh, I’m sorry, your highness.” He stuttered out, unable to do anything but bring the blanket over his body.

Raising a hand in reassurance, Ammut’s smile was gentle. “No need for such formalities. Ammut is fine.”

Nodding slowly, Lark settled back into the soft blankets. Ammut beckoned to someone else outside the door and another demon rolled in a cart. “You’ve been running a high fever for two days. I’m glad to see you up and about.”

“Two days!?”

Falling back against the pillows and sighing loudly, Lark closed his eyes. Cooped up in a bed, unconscious AGAIN! How embarrassing.

Ammut shooed the butler away and brought a chair to sit beside Lark. He wheeled the cart close and motioned to it. “Hungry?”

Lark opened an eye and looked at the offering; porridge with fruit, some muffins, jam, water, pain killers. Looking at it all intensified his hunger.

He nodded sheepishly and Ammut handed the bowl over. Eating quicker than intended, Lark immediately felt more comfortable after some hot food. It was gentle on his stomach and cleared his head considerably.

“I notified Delilah of your sudden illness and she seemed worried. Work has kept her away, I’m afraid.” Watching Lark eat, Ammut sat with hands politely in his lap. Lark only just noticed the blue tail that curled around the demon’s feet; blue and smooth scaled.

“Thank you for taking care of me.” Lark said through bites of a muffin.

Ammut continued smiling. “Please, it’s no trouble.”

Their mood shifted and Ammut’s expression grew dark. “I digress.”

“Tell me what you beheld in your dreams.”

Spoon of porridge halfway to his open mouth, Lark let it stop there. “My dreams?”

Nodding, Ammut crossed their arms and tilted their head. “You seemed quite troubled.”

“Well…”

Clenching his jaw, Lark tried to bring the memories back. All he could remember was the bitter emptiness. “It was… dark. And cold. I think someone was there, I don’t know.”

That was curious. He definitely recalled talking to a person but couldn’t describe them in any way. As he tried to grasp anything in the bowels of his mind it slipped through his fingers. How frustrating.

“I can’t remember.”

Ammut didn’t seem very pleased with that response and put a hand to their chin. “Was it human? Demon?”

“I couldn’t tell you.” Going back to his meal, Lark tried to think between bites.

He glanced at Ammut and watched the way the demon’s shoulders never relaxed. They barely knew each other but Lark hated the stuffiness of keeping appearances. Noticing a gaze on them, Ammut turned to Lark and smiled.

“You stare a bit. Do you live somewhere quite cold? Us demons can’t handle low temperatures.” He didn’t seem to take any insult from it, just amusement. 

“Oh no, it’s not that. It’s true I don’t see many.” Embarrassed at getting caught staring, Lark’s face got hot. “I wanted to say… If you tell me I can drop formalities with you, then I’d say the same.”

It took a moment for Ammut to register what Lark had said, but as soon as he did he chuckled loudly. “You’re very sweet. I’m sorry to say I’m just like this.”

The door opened with a soft creak as someone spoke. “Yeah, it’s super annoying.” A familiar person stepped through, green Saint scarf flashing against the dark decor.

“I’m finally free! Geez, Meis put the most aggravating woman in charge of the church here.” Stretching his arms in victory, Delilah immediately sagged into a chair. He looked exhausted, rubbing his temples with closed eyes.

“I do not care much for her.” In agreement, Ammut seemed unfazed by Delilah’s arrival.

Relief flooded through Lark and he straightened his back. “Delilah! I’m sorry you’re being held up by me.”

“Pssh! I’d rather spend my time here than back home, on occasion.” Throwing Lark a wink, Delilah leaned back in the chair, her pose finally relaxed. “Orimir knows how to keep everyone in line.”

Tilting his head, Lark finally dared to ask what had been bugging him since before. The way Delilah sometimes acted was strange, considering her position. It was impossible to read thanks to a combination of her skillful masking and his own blindness. He looked between the king and Delilah as he put his empty bowl down.

“Do you hate the church?”

It took both of them by surprise. 

Ammut put a hand to his chin, tail twitching. “My apologies. I forget Saints are… usually devout. The majority, anyway.”

Lark shook his head and clenched the blankets in his fists. “I…” A bubble popped; an uncomfortable rush followed.

“I don’t believe in any of it.”

Raising their eyebrows Ammut leaned back in the chair, suddenly quite contemplative.

“There’s a lot to unpack with that question.” Mused Delilah with a snort, dragging her chair over to put by Ammut. The slide against tiles grated on Lark’s ears until it rested peacefully on the carpet. “I’m not going to get personal about it, but let's just say there’s been something weird goin’ on lately.”

“I heard you got sick the instant Ammut unpacked that crystal.”

Lark nodded and Ammut’s face scrunched into a grimace. “He had quite the fall, almost instantaneous.”

“You didn’t tell me he fell!” Delilah’s voice was panicky as she stood.

“Just to the floor.” Ammut said simply.

“That’s supposed to make it better??”

Pinching the bridge of her nose Delilah groaned loudly, sitting back down with a thunk. 

Then she started explaining her previous words a bit, exhausted all over again. “I’ve done some digging. And what I’m finding isn’t pretty. A bunch of conspiracies and deaths that weren’t… accidental.”

Tilting his head at her Lark watched the crease of her eyebrow deepen. “Then why do you still work for them?”

“Because he’s hopeless.” Ammut interjected, crossing his arms with an eye roll.

“NO. I’m getting to the bottom of it, that’s what. You don’t get to talk.” Pointing a finger at them Delilah hissed through his teeth. His challenging words made Ammut’s entire persona change and Lark felt the air get heavy.

“Oh, I do get to talk.” Rising from their own chair Ammut stood over Delilah with glowing eyes. “Who was it that brought you back from the brink, Delilah?”

Looking between them, confused, Lark felt like he was accidentally privy to something much more personal. There was history here that shouldn’t be in the open yet.

“Shut up. You don’t have to remind me.” Looking away from Ammut with angry, narrowed eyes, Delilah hunched over in his seat defensively. “I can’t even begin to repay you, so don’t push it.”

The room practically sizzled with aggravation and Lark tried desperately to sink into the blankets. Why they were deciding to have a personal argument right in front of him he had no idea, hoping it would all blow over.

Ammut’s voice broke the quiet and seemed much smaller. “You’re not squandering his efforts.” There was a hint of jaded sadness. “But don’t live your life trying to repay him, he’s not worth that much.”

Delilah’s tone was strained, angry even. “How can I not? That saved my life.”

Getting drowsy from their hushed voices, Lark sunk into the cushions. He didn’t know exactly what the other two were talking about and even if he was curious, his body ached for more rest. Running a high fever for days had exhausted him even if he felt like he couldn’t sleep anymore.

“Ah, we should let Lark sleep.” Hummed the demon, fixing Lark’s blankets with a gentle motion.

As Delilah spoke, her words faded in and out. “He’s been doing enough of that lately. I wonder if… he … narcolepsy.”

“I think … more than that. Something … wrong.”

“... symptoms… same…”

Their voices blurred together in a gentle background noise that lulled Lark further. Hoping he wouldn’t have more weird visions, Lark tried to keep his eyes open. To no avail, his vision blackened and the gentle touch of sleep caught him.

Thankfully he was free of dreams.