The piece of bark was rough between his fingers.
Small. Harmless-looking.
Vesperyn brought it closer, examining it. It smelled faintly acrid, like burnt wood mixed with something medicinal.
*Keeps you numb when you can't afford to feel.*
He glanced at the door. Harlen was still inside.
Vesperyn put the bark in his mouth.
The taste hit immediately—bitter, sharp, chemical. Like chewing on charcoal mixed with copper.
His face twisted. "God, that's....."
He almost spit it out.
But then he remembered Harlen's expression. The way the tension left his shoulders after chewing. The distant calm in his eyes.
Vesperyn forced himself to keep chewing.
The bitterness spread across his tongue, coating the inside of his mouth. It tasted like medicine. Like poison.
Like relief.
He swallowed.
For a moment, nothing happened.
Then,
The edges went soft.
Not blurry. Soft. Like someone had taken the sharpest parts of the world and filed them down.
The ache in his shoulder faded to background noise.
The tightness in his chest loosened.
The thoughts that had been circling—*Darian's face, his mother's blood, his father's eyes staring at nothing* they were still there.
But they felt... farther away.
Manageable.
"Oh," Vesperyn said quietly.
He understood now.
The weight was still there. But he could breathe under it.
He sat back against the porch beam, letting the sensation wash over him.
His fingers felt warm. His heartbeat slowed.
For the first time since arriving here, he felt almost—
The door slammed open.
Harlen stood there, eyes sharp.
He looked at Vesperyn. At the bark fragments on the ground. At Vesperyn's unfocused expression.
"How much did you take?" His voice was tight.
Vesperyn blinked slowly. "Just... one piece?"
"Show me."
Vesperyn held up his fingers, trying to indicate the size.
Harlen swore viciously.
"That's not 'just one piece,' you idiot....that's half a dose."
He grabbed Vesperyn by the arm and hauled him upright.
"How do you feel?"
"Good," Vesperyn said honestly. "Really good."
"That's the problem."
Harlen pulled him inside, sat him down hard in a chair.
"Listen to me," he said, voice cutting through the pleasant haze. "How's your heartbeat?"
Vesperyn focused. "...Fast?"
"How fast?"
"I don't know. Fast. Does it matter?"
"Yes, it fucking matters." Harlen grabbed his wrist, fingers pressing against his pulse. "Jesus Christ, kid."
He let go and started rummaging through a wooden box.
"What's happening?" Vesperyn asked. The room was doing something interesting...breathing, maybe.
"You took too much," Harlen said shortly. "Your body's not used to it. Heart's working too hard trying to process it."
He pulled out a clay jar filled with dark liquid.
"Drink this. Now."
Vesperyn took it. Sniffed. "It smells like—"
"I don't care what it smells like. Drink."
The liquid was thick and tasted worse than the bark. Vesperyn gagged but forced it down.
Harlen watched him closely, still checking his pulse every few seconds.
"Breathe," he said. "Slow. In through your nose, out through your mouth."
Vesperyn tried. His chest felt tight again, but different now. Wrong.
"This is why," Harlen said quietly, "I told you not to."
The warmth was fading. Being replaced by something colder.
Vesperyn's hands started shaking.
"I can't—" he started. "I can't feel my fingers—"
"You're fine," Harlen said firmly. "Your body's fighting it off. Just breathe."
Vesperyn's vision swam.
"Harlen—"
"You're fine," Harlen repeated. "Trust me. I've seen this before."
He kept one hand on Vesperyn's shoulder, steady and grounding.
"Breathe with me. In. Out. In. Out."
Vesperyn focused on the rhythm. On Harlen's voice.
Slowly.....very slowly—the tightness eased.
His heartbeat settled.
The cold faded.
He was left exhausted, shaking, drenched in cold sweat.
"There," Harlen said. "You're through it."
Vesperyn slumped forward, elbows on his knees, head in his hands.
"What the hell was that?" he asked hoarsely.
"Scorchroot overdose," Harlen said. "Mild one. You're lucky."
He sat down across from him.
"You take too much, your heart tries to keep up with the stimulant while your brain tries to shut down from the sedative. They fight. Eventually, something gives."
He held Vesperyn's gaze.
"Usually the heart."
Vesperyn swallowed. "You use this every day."
"I know my dose," Harlen said. "You didn't."
Silence.
"Why did you take it?" Harlen asked.
Vesperyn didn't answer right away.
"You said it helps you forget," he said finally. "I wanted... I wanted to stop thinking. Just for a little while."
Harlen's expression softened, just slightly.
"I know," he said quietly.
He reached into his pocket and pulled out another strip of bark. Much smaller than the one Vesperyn had taken.
"This," he said, holding it up, "is a safe dose. For someone my size, with tolerance."
He put it back.
"For you? Half that. Maybe less."
"You're still going to let me use it?" Vesperyn asked, surprised.
Harlen shrugged. "Can't stop you. You'll find something else if I don't."
He leaned back.
"But you do it under supervision. You tell me before you take it. And you never, ever take it alone. Understood?"
Vesperyn nodded slowly.
"And one more thing," Harlen said.
Vesperyn looked up.
"It doesn't make you forget," Harlen said. "It just makes you care less. Temporarily."
He stood.
"The memories come back. They always do. And when they do, they hit twice as hard because you tried to avoid them."
He walked to the door.
"Get some rest. Sleep it off."
He paused.
"And Vesperyn?"
"Yeah?"
"Don't do that again."
Vesperyn managed a weak smile. "Yeah. Noted."