"Don't worry about it," I say to Pera as my hand passes through my boyfriend's black, silky locks of hair. "Everything is going to be alright."
We lay in bed together as usual, though uneasily tonight.
"What do you think is going to happen?" Pera pleads. "Is this it?"
We lay together, spoon on spoon, in a small bed in a musty flophouse in the Wesselian slaver town of Zodar. Torrvic and Oinkers snore loudly in the bed next to ours.
"No." I say with false confidence. "Everything is going to be fine. Dorro over-extended his powers; we've seen this before with the seeker stones. There is no reason to think that this is permanent."
"But," starts Pera. "What if it is?"
[Just getting started . . . more to come . . .]