Phei had the urge to wake Eira up and test the ability with an audience like her.
But he didn't.
How long was his Elemental Companion going to sleep?
He'd left her in a state that should have required, at most, an hour of recuperation — not the comatose, drool-producing, pillow-desecrating torpor she was currently in with the solemn, almost religious dedication of an ancient Void-Ice fairy who had once watched empires crumble like frostbitten leaves and now treated unconsciousness as her personal art form.
'Beauty and her sleep, indeed.'
He supposed even primordial beings who had witnessed the invention of agriculture — and the subsequent rivers of blood it inspired — required their restorative sleep.
'Lest she wakes up cranky enough to flash-freeze the continent.'
