It's just two years and twenty-seven days.
Patience is a virtue. That is what Our Lady teaches. It is through that virtue I endure. As she has endured the mists and all its legion, certainly I can survive a single one of its creatures. Only two years and twenty-seven days. Then I shall be free of this trial, and "It."
It won't tell me it's name, because it is a coward. It avoids, redirects, or mocks me. It is Hubris incarnate. So I call it Hugh, for short. At first, it was my own feeble way to claim ownership of my situation. To mock it back, but seems to be accepting of the name; dare I say partial to it.
Hugh has been with me for a while now. They are a constant unwanted companion. A creature of darkness, and evil. The Church often speaks of the Legion. They are often described as guile, or violent. Monsters that corrupt and destroy. What was left out of the sermons was how they are also unbearably clingy. Hugh is needy, and always watching. Even with my eyes closed, I can feel its gaze. Though I cannot tell exactly where Hugh is laying about in the darkness of this cheap inn room, they make themselves known. A claw or something as sharp is ticking against the wood of the furniture in a torturous off-beat rhythm. Ticking. tick-ing. ticking. They have been making that noise since sundown. It wants my attention.
"Will you stop that?" I relent.
Hm? Oh. You're awake? The voice is directionless and presses against the air of the room.
"You know I am awake. Stop making that noise."
The ticking stops for five breaths. Then it starts anew, the tickity-tap violating the tranquility that dangled over my bedframe.
What noise? Its tone smiled. My eyes opened and found a spot in the darkness to stare down. Is it keeping you up?
"For the past four hours"
Why didn't you say sooner? Hugh teased.
"We have to travel tomorrow. Let me rest."
Of course. We need you in tip-top shape. New town. New people. New opportunities. We can't have you gobbled up before we get there.
I held my breath, waiting for the ticking to start again. Silence. Minutes passed without another word between us. I slowly started to close my eyes once more, the blankets growing heavy.
Four more months. It broke the stillness of the room and my comfort crashed to pieces. I grabbed at the blankets and harshly turned away from the noise, pushing the pillow over my ears but it was no use. The voice was as loud in my head as it was through the rest of the room. Four more months, and I'll even let you sleep in.
"One."
Three
"Six Weeks."
Three. Months. I have all night.
"Fine--Fine. For the love of Ezra's chosen. Just let me sleep!" I snapped, and Hugh settled into the cold air in gleeful satisfaction.
Deal.
And then there was quiet. A peaceful, intoxicating hush spread across me like a tattered quilt and numbed my senses. I was drifting away. It wasn't a natural slumber, but nothing about this was natural. Ezra gives small miracles even in the bleakest of times, and we must take what tastes of heaven are given.
Goodnight...
Just two years, three months, and twenty-seven days.
