"Blake! Blake!" Emeryl darted out of the hallway. Around the table Prism glanced up from his large blue book. Blake studied the white kitten sleeping on the table with fierce intensity. Beside him Bentora lay her head on the table, eyes shut.
      "Aren't you too young to be up this late?" Blake yawned. Stopping to catch his breath Emeryl smiled.
      "I promised to heal you if nothing else came up." He dragged a chair next to Blake and settled into it.
      "Why? Prism looks worse than I do." He insisted. Prism eyed Blake from behind the book. Most his bruises had faded away, but he still looked lightly battered.
      "But yours is fresh. Just let me see." He yanked the arm out of the cloak. It was near midnight and the rest of the town slept peacefully. Two other men wasted time at the inn's bar, babbling nonsense to each other. The irritated barkeep stayed silent as he washed out dirty mugs and waited for his shift to end.
      The door slammed into the wall as a large bulky man entered. He carried a sword in his hand and sweated fiercely. His bald head shined with beads of sweat.
      "It's the smithy." Prism closed his books, surprised. The stalwart man lumbered over to them, slapping the sword on the table.
      "I won't repair this!" he declared firmly.
      "What? But..." Prism touched the sword, "Ow! It's still hot!"
      "A ghost appeared when I tried to forge that sword! I'm not touching it!" he exclaimed, marching out the inn's door.
      "How odd." Prism said with lack of any other observations.
      "You think, Maskini..?" Emeryl asked.
      "I don't see why. Look at the time, we should go to bed." Prism seemed to just recognize how late the night was.
      "Looks to me like someone already is." Blake slapped Bentora's cheek.
      "Huh? Huh? What?" Bentora lifted her head off the table.
      "We're going to bed." Blake scooped the kitten off the table, pushing the chair out.
      "Wait!" Emeryl moved with him.
      "I'm fine." Blake pulled his arm away.
      "But... I'm not finished." Emeryl whined. Sighing, Prism walked into the hall with the book under his arm and key in hand.