Page 21 of Ceridor

An old man.

My heart leapt into my throat as I charged through the common room that served as our dining area for the guests and into the hallway that led to the boarding rooms, with bathrooms flanking each hall.

In front of my room—our room—I saw the shadow of someone standing inside.

I charged back out to Effie. "Ceridor's here. He's come home."

My sister's beautiful brown eyes flew wide. "How did I miss him come in?"

I knew the old man to be one of Ceridor's magical glamours that he engaged to cloak himself in hostile territory on the road—he'd used it to free me from Ulbrecht's men that fateful nighttwo years ago—but I'd been sworn to secrecy on his techniques and had promised not to share them with anyone.

"I know it's him," I insisted.

Just then, a door opened in the hallway. My sister came up to the counter and I waited with bated breath to see who would come into the hall.

It was him.

Ceridor came into the common area wearing loose canvas pants and one of my sweaters, the lilac open weave one that hung wide on one shoulder. He'd worn it so much over the years, it was totally wrung out. He didn't meet my eyes but instead glanced at my sister, his arms crossed over his middle, holding his elbows.

"Where have youbeen?" my sister demanded.

But the words that came out of my beloved's mouth were not ones I'd been expecting. Instead, they stopped me cold.

"I was mugged on the road," he answered softly. Then he held up a hand to halt Effie when she gasped and covered her mouth. Ceridor looked at me, a strange pleading in his gaze.

I had no words. I just stood there frozen and couldn't stop looking at him, so grateful to see him alive.

But the shock had shot me into a fog that I recognized from my terrible adolescence of getting beaten nearly every day by my father. I'd worked through several books on child abuse that Ceridor had sent me from the monastery library, and through many hours of reflection I had come to think that maybe I'd dissociated during the abuse. In order to protect myself, my psyche had left my body, and it felt like I was watching myself from a distance.

Because I'd engaged that coping mechanism so many times over the years, my brain would likely prefer to default to it for the rest of my life whenever such a situation arose, like an empty riverbed just waiting for the water to flow through it.Dissociating had taken the edge off what I'd endured, but now it didn't serve me anymore. I wanted to—had to—come back.

All the tools I'd memorized and practiced flew out the window; I couldn't remember them. But I could at least force myself to breathe.Breathe!

I wasn't sure what Ceridor saw on my face, but his eyes widened and he reached out and took my hand. I squeezed him and forced another breath through, grabbing onto the physicality of his touch and focusing on the warmth of his hand to ground myself in my body.

Ceridor stepped in close to me, slowly wrapping his arms around my back and guiding me to lean into him. "Johann, baby, are you okay? Come back to me.Alles okay."

My partner had been attacked, and yet here he was trying to help me come out of my shock. I wrapped my arms around his waist and focused on the feel of him, his rough fingers rubbing soothingly on the back of my neck, his lips kissing my temple, his slow breaths in turn slowing my breathing.

Eventually he pressed on. "I was attacked in the dark, by four men. They didn't just want my money—I'd already given them my purse. They were looking to kill me for fun. I didn't let them. I fought them off."

Effie sobbed into her apron, and I was grateful at least one of us still had access to their feelings. I felt numb.

Effie came through. "You did it, Ceridor. You fought them off. I'm so proud of you. You came back to us, to Johann."

"Thank you, Effie." Yet Ceridor's sigh sounded a bit dejected, and that reactive pain at hearing him hurting brought me back down to earth.

"Come, Johann," Effie prompted, still scrubbing her face with her apron. She knew I could get like this. I'd told her about the term dissociation that I'd found in my books.

Eventually I managed to come back into my body, snap out of it and squeeze him. Ceridor hummed in my arms and breathed a sigh of relief. Tears finally burned my eyes, connecting me to how I felt.

"I'm so proud of you," I said.

"Thank you," said Ceridor, his voice also choked with tears. "I love you, Johann."

That nearly broke me, but I couldn't let myself feel it just then. I felt like I'd scream and explode if I let myself feel the full extent of everything happening, and I couldn't afford to do that when my partner needed me. "I love you, too."

"Awww," Effie cooed, then when she came around the counter, Ceridor pulled her in with us.

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