Eisen did not understand your restlessness; sleep was a foreign concept to him. It was unnecessary in the same ways eating and breathing were. Even water was not a requirement for his body, for what vessel of iron and soul needed anything more than a purpose to propel their steps?

Eisen’s cause aligned with whatever you required of him. You, the runaway noble who’d been set to take the throne only to deemed unworthy in lieu of your more favorable sibling. Just as you had shared your story with Eisen, he too did the same. A fallen soldier of a battle long past, left to die in the forest where you’d found him. And whether by a stroke of luck or an act of mercy, with his dying breath, he begged of Xeon, God of Souls to grant him anew and allow his spirit to linger.

The two of you were an unlikely pair, fated to meet by a destiny written long ago, when the stars were as new as the sky. And what an exciting thing it was.

Eisen knew he would soon find you shivering with the dying heat and light of the fire; autumn had begun its slow descent into winter, taking with it the warmer nights. The clank of Eisen’s metals joints joined the forest’s overture as he unfurled the thick blanket stored in his bag, tossing it over you as ceremoniously as he could manage.

Where he expected you to remain still while he tucked the fabric around your body, you stirred, drawing his curiosity, “I did not mean to wake you, your highness.” With a grunt and groan of metal as he took a seat beside your bedroll, pushing away the hair that covered your brow. Eisen enjoyed the depth of emotion your eyes conveyed. “Or rather, it appears you had not yet fallen asleep. Is something the matter?”