A Room, a Bed, and a Voice

When the bowls were empty, Traveller stood up.

They walked to the bar where a tired-looking woman was wiping the counter. Traveller spoke in a low voice. The woman nodded and handed over a heavy iron key.

"Upstairs. Last door on the right," she said, not looking up.

Traveller came back to the table. "Time to sleep."

Bob picked up his stick-sword and followed Traveller up a creaky wooden staircase. Their room was at the end of a long, quiet hallway.

Traveller unlocked the door and pushed it open. The room was small and simple. There were two beds, a small wooden table, and one window. A single, glowing crystal on the table cast a soft, yellow light.

Traveller unclasped the heavy white robe, letting it fall from their shoulders onto a hook. They kept the hood up, their face still hidden in its deep shadow. Underneath, they wore simple, dark travelling clothes. They looked tired and sat on one of the beds, which sighed under their weight.

Bob, however, was not tired. His eyes were on the other bed.

He had never slept on a bed before. He walked over to it. He poked the mattress with his finger. It was soft. Bouncy. He poked it again, harder.

A slow smile spread across his face.

He climbed onto the bed. He stood up on the soft surface, wobbling a little. Then, he jumped.

Boing.

He landed softly. It was a good feeling. He jumped again, higher this time.

Boing.

He started jumping up and down, a silent, happy laugh on his face. His grey cloak flapped around him.

Traveller watched him for a moment, the corner of their mouth twitching into a small smile. They didn't tell him to stop. They just lay down on their own bed and pulled the blanket up. Soon, their breathing became slow and even. They were asleep.

Bob kept jumping. For a long time, the only sounds in the room were the soft boing of the bed and Bob's quiet footsteps.

Eventually, he grew tired of jumping. He sat down on the edge of the bed and looked at the window. He could see the lights of Mokhaven below, and the dark shapes of the hills beyond. The two moons, one large and silver, one small and blue, were rising in the night sky.

It was quiet. Peaceful.

Then, a voice spoke. It was soft, clear, and sounded like a woman. It came from right outside the window.

"Bob."

Bob froze. He looked at the window. They were on the top floor of the inn. There was nothing outside but the night air.

The voice came again, a gentle, beckoning whisper.

"Come to the window, little Human."