Sparks of Rebellion: Book 1 of the Fragments Series

By Toby Cerezo

The world of Threigsinn was shaped by thoughts and abandoned by gods who were ashamed of their folly.

Toby Cerezo's debut novel, Sparks of Rebellion, is about a dysfunctional group of teenagers who must untangle their emotions to unite against an oppressive monarchy. Arvin, a young and cynical prodigy, meets an emissar

• Language: English
• Publisher: New Degree Press
• Release date: Dec 17, 2021
• ISBN: 9781637309476

Book preview

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Sparks of

Rebellion

Sparks of Rebellion

Book 1 of the Fragments Series

Toby Cerezo

New Degree Press

Copyright © 2021 Toby Cerezo

All rights reserved.

Sparks of Rebellion

Book 1 of the Fragments Series

ISBN

978-1-63730-840-0 Paperback

978-1-63730-905-6 Kindle Ebook

978-1-63730-947-6 Ebook

To my friends, who helped me to rediscover the good in humanity.

Contents

Prelude: Lasaire 

Chapter 1:

Home Sweet Home

Chapter 2:

The Messenger

Chapter 3:

Paranoid

Chapter 4:

Transparency

Chapter 5:

Awfully Personal

Chapter 6:

Inhuman

Chapter 7:

History and Histrionics

Chapter 8:

Difficult

Chapter 9:

Spontaneous Combustion

Chapter 10:

Strange Letters

Chapter 11:

Bound by Fate

Interlude: Teas

Chapter 12:

So Dramatic

Chapter 13:

The Golden District

Chapter 14:

One Man’s Trash

Chapter 15:

The Gross Shit

Chapter 16:

Partial Disclosure

Chapter 17:

Uncomfortable

Chapter 18:

Last-Minute Brief

Chapter 19:

Party Crashers

Chapter 20:

Everything Goes Wrong

Chapter 21:

On the Road Again

Acknowledgements

Prelude: Lasaire 

Nothing in the world of Threigsinn matched the ethereal, vertigo-inducing majesty of the Astral Plane—a giant void dotted with bright, shining stars and purple clouds. Only the gods of Threigsinn could walk upon its invisible ground and through its numerous domains after their self-imposed exile.

One of these domains was the Fire Domain, where the skies and clouds had hints of red mixed in with their inky blacks and purples, and where the stars shone bright yellow. Everyone foreign to the area would be warm on the outskirts and positively sweltering at its center. It was home to elemental creatures such as coalwalkers and salamanders that would fascinate and terrify any sensible mortal.

The sweltering center of this astrological oven was marked by the Flaming Palace. The palace was grand beyond grand; it was the kind of endeavor that generations of mortal architects could only dream of accomplishing. Despite its grandeur, however, this wonder was erected by the imagination of one particularly powerful woman.

Lume Lasaire, alias Lacie, was Threigsinn’s goddess of fire, fun, family, and hundreds of other domains. Being alive for thousands of years tended to warp people’s ideas about gods, and she was one of the oldest. Since celestial deities could stop physically aging whenever they pleased, her age was indiscernible from a mere glance.

Some decided to aim for their middle ages to offer a wizened and comforting appearance to their followers. Others remained children to capture the youth and effervescence of their respective domains. Unsurprisingly, though, the vast majority of celestials stopped aging around their mid-twenties. Lasaire was one of the many who chose this path. Her long, fiery red hair curled around her face and spilled over her shoulders, giving off the occasional spark and flicker of flame. Her youthful skin was a gentle tan; the same shade as, perhaps, the inside of a dark oak tree. Her blazing orange eyes often conveyed expressions of joy, anger, or intense boredom. She usually wore long, comfortable dresses and beautiful jewelry because she strove to be as comfortable as she was magnificent.

One day, not too long ago, this comfortable and magnificent goddess paced her red study and groaned. Ugh, if only my grandparents weren’t such assbags.

The assbags in question were Lux Calidus and Friga Tenebris: two halves of the first deity, Etenebris Lux. With the power of thought, they created the primordial gods, who helped to form the world and populate Threigsinn with all kinds of strange life. When Etenebris Lux was in their prime, they worked benevolently, decisively, and efficiently to care for this new life.

They were perfect… almost too perfect.

When the Thinking Creatures were created, they seemed to share that sentiment. The Thinking Creatures, such as elves, dwarves, humans, orcs, fae, and many others, were mortal beings capable of thinking and wanting beyond their primal instincts. Because of these desires, they had started fighting with each other for Etenebris Lux’s favor over petty things like local gossip, failed relationships, and financial status. Mortals knew full well that Etenebris Lux was the only being with the power to provide for them at the drop of a pebble.

As the Thinking Creatures developed these thoughts and emotions, Etenebris Lux began to feel conflicted. A part of them wanted to remain as a keeper of order and Threigsinn’s greatest provider. However, another part of them was starting to envy the Thinking Creatures’ capacity to love, laugh, smile, cry, and feel. Both halves knew they could never walk alongside the Thinking Creatures while they provided for them, but neither of them agreed on what they should do instead.

This inner conflict caused Etenebris Lux to split into separate concepts: Lux Calidus, the god of law; and Friga Tenebris, the goddess of chaos. When these ideals were separated, still more celestial and demonic beings erupted from both deities. Adhar and Terra, Lacie’s parents, were the first two. They were the gods of the sky and the earth, respectively. Considering fire and heat came from the meeting of air and earth, it made sense that Lacie was their Thoughtspawn—a physical manifestation of important mortals’ ideas.

As more gods were spawned, including Lacie’s fish-stinking brother, Dagon, more ideological distinctions were made, and those distinctions eventually created more Thoughtspawn. This cycle continued until the first war came about, known to contemporary Threigsinn historians as the Catalyst War—a multidimensional war with Lux and Friga’s everlasting dispute at its core. Thinking Creatures and new Thoughtspawn alike did all of the twin gods’ dirty work, destroying innumerable homes and lives in the names of their masters.

Horrified by the ensuing violence, Lacie and her family of primordial deities suggested the Exodus. She and Dagon agreed that their best choice was to leave the mortal world behind. In their minds, allowing the Thinking Creatures to rely on gods caused more harm than good; one only needed to see the carnage of the Catalyst War to find proof.

It took plenty of time, but Lacie and Dagon managed to convince almost all of the gods to stop destroying their world. Lux and Friga, however, fought each other to the very end. The world they had so lovingly created became an extension of their increasingly petty frustration. Followers of chaos and order alike allowed themselves to become puppets of these mysterious higher beings with no regards for the world that crumbled before them as a result.

With no other choice, Lacie, Dagon, Adhar, and Terra led the remaining Thinking Creatures against armies of fanatics that had been robbed of their power to think for themselves. Then, they managed to subdue and banish Lux and Friga, imprisoning them and banishing the rest of the gods to the Astral and Infernal Planes.

However, thanks to a bit of trickery, Lacie had managed to convince several gods, including each of the primordials, to leave behind Fragments of their power in the form of artifacts, runes, and hereditary magic. That way, their powers would still help the Thinking Creatures without involving their petty disputes.

It was now nearing the thousandth anniversary of the Exodus and the Fragmentation. Lacie and the other primordials had been, as she often said, wigging the fuck out as they tried to cobble together a celebration, as well as a plan. Lux and Friga were held together in a distant star, which Adhar ruled over as the god of the sky. He recently caught wind of rumors that Lux and Friga had created Fragments of their own before they were imprisoned, but the gods wouldn’t say anything about these rumors when they were questioned.

From what the gods could gather, the Thinking Creatures were starting to speak of Harbingers proclaiming the end times, during which a corrupt Threigsinn would be purged and cleansed. This gossip had not yet left the smallest circles of mortal information sellers, but it eventually would reach the common people. They would need to learn how to deal with the so-called Harbingers to protect themselves and the world they lived in. Unfortunately, even the gods had no clue what was happening with these mysterious doomsayers, and many were quite sure they didn’t want to find out.

Lacie sort of understood why she was relegated to plan the anniversary of the Fragmentation instead of interrogating the old geezers. First, she was the first goddess of fun; it would be ridiculous to give the reins to anyone other than her. Second, she and her brother had rallied everyone against their grandparents. She figured they were the last things that the old coots wanted to see. And lastly, despite her vibrant sense of humor and overall flawless conversational skills, she wasn’t very good at keeping her emotions in check. She was what Thinking Creatures called unstable, but Lacie just called herself honest.

Still, she was the one who had suggested Fragmenting the gods’ power in the first place, and she also worked with Dagon on their little contingency plan back when she first suggested the Exodus to him. She felt she deserved at least some part in the behind-the-scenes work. But after she ran through every factor in her head, she could only let out a defeated sigh. For now, all she could do was hope the plan would hold up against the power of two old and untamed gods.

For this plan to work, the four primordials needed to choose champions—Fragments that would be taught how to use their powers via direct telepathic connections with their patrons. These champions would become the voices of the gods, and they would act on their patrons’ behalf to prevent the Harbingers from enacting the old gods’ will and tearing Threigsinn apart in the process.

Lacie set her sights on the newly rising human kingdom. For the longest time, the Thinking Creatures had been spread across Threigsinn in loosely formed tribes. King Initium of the human Empire of Nuamon had been the first human to unite his people. He was also, by far, the most forceful. He encouraged his subjects to hunt down, capture, and kill Thinking Creatures that weren’t human. He even added the word Inhuman to the Nuish language in order to dehumanize anything unlike the human species. 

His son, Sgrios, hadn’t made things much better. Under the rule of King Sgrios, the dwarves were extinguished, and the elves, fae, and so-called aberrants were driven into hiding, living in fear of what the empire had created. Most, if not all Fragments were passed down to Nuish nobility as rewards for doing all of Sgrios’s dirty work for him. All of this violence created harsher divisions between chaos and law and tightened the old gods’ grip on Threigsinn’s people. However, it also made the royalty of Nuamon into perfect heaven-sent messengers.

Lacie chose a prospective young noble—Ferdinand, the duke of Sales. He was young, impressionable, and fit to head up the line of succession. She briefly considered the even younger Prince Vilius, but the poor boy was only two. Ferdinand, however, was twelve, and he was already being raised to rule by his parents. They were overbearing and only saw the young duke as a path to fame and glory. In Lacie’s eyes, he would inevitably rebel and stop them from dictating his life for him. She just hoped his parents’ mental conditioning wouldn’t go to his head.

She let out a small sigh as she sat down on the bed, her arms crossed. She chewed on the inside of her cheek, lost in thought as she imagined every possible outcome.

Lacie?

Lacie looked up and saw Teas, her scarlet-skinned and orange-eyed king courtesan, standing in the doorway. He was a good foot taller than her in their normal forms, and curling ivory horns that signified his demonic heritage only exaggerated the height difference. His brown hair was pushed back and shaven at the sides, allowing his horns to demand the attention of those who looked at him. At the sight of him wearing his blood-red waistcoat and black cravat over his white shirt, which strained to contain his muscles, Lacie couldn’t help but smile up at him. Hello, handsome.

Teas grinned and sat down next to her. You look great, he said. His fingers gently intertwined themselves with hers. Are you ready for tonight?

Even as she felt herself heat up at Teas’s touch, Lacie sighed and looked into his eyes. Can’t we just put the party on hold? she asked. This whole thing has been stressing me out beyond belief.

Teas squeezed Lacie’s hand. I know better than anyone how hard you’ve been working on this plan. Harder than even some of the other primordials. But… He paused for dramatic effect. We need to throw this party. It’ll keep everyone calm when you tell them all. And you’ll have to tell them soon.

I know, I know. Lacie sighed. Honey, I have to ask. Is this how you usually feel before we do social things? I feel so… tired. She rested her head on his shoulder, her eyes closed. I feel like my legs are made of lead.

Really? Teas asked, a smirk unfurling on his face. Well, yes, it is. Among other things. You know I’m not much of a social person. Maybe the presence of purpose is easing my mind. Contacting Thinking Creatures directly is exciting, but it can’t be any easier on you. He kissed the top of her head and rubbed her back. Look, as soon as your speech is over, I promise we can have some time to ourselves.

You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Lacie teased, fiddling with one of the buttons on Teas’s waistcoat. Ugh, I’m sorry for ragging on you whenever we hosted those parties. I guess I never appreciated what it was like to be so… nervous. It’s been so long since I’ve felt so drained.

Teas melted a bit as she touched him. His scarlet cheeks turned raspberry red. It’s alright. So long as you don’t make me give any speeches, I’ll be okay. His slow and earnest cadence soothed Lacie just a bit. You do so much for all of us. I’m surprised you haven’t imploded yet.

I’m the queen of the Fire Domain; I have a duty to my people and all that. You know that.  Lacie rolled her eyes.

Teas laughed. I know. Your work over the past thousand years has helped so many people. But you don’t have to be scared to ask for help every once in a while. 

Lacie felt her stomach flutter as Teas stood and pulled her up with him.  I can’t ask too much. I have too many people relying on me.

Well, isn’t that exactly why you need others’ help in the first place? 

She opened and closed her mouth. For once, she couldn’t think of anything to say.

Teas sighed and gently tapped her head with one of his horns. Are you ready?

Just one thing. Lacie wrapped her arms around Teas’s neck and kissed him. For good luck.

Teas nodded wordlessly. His embarrassment might have gone unnoticed if Lacie hadn’t learned how to read him. Alright then, he said stiffly. You’re going to do great, Lacie.

I know, Teas, she joked, elbowing him in the side. As her husband put his arm through hers, she let out a small sigh. "Are you ready? You’re already getting all clammy."

I’m, uh, fine, Teas stammered. Lacie chuckled as she led him out of her chamber and strode into the great hall. This was going to be the start of a new era; Lacie could feel it in her gut. Her gut instinct was never wrong. 

At least, she liked to tell herself that.

Chapter 1:

Home Sweet Home

I don’t fully understand, Mr. Retz.

For Lux’s sake, Arvin. You can’t just keep haggling for steaks for your giant wolf.

Seven years later, Arvin White, a thin teenager sporting a worn brown leather jacket and breeches, stared down Kinsel Retz, a much older and stronger butcher with a bloody apron. It’s not like I can just let him loose in Bramblewood Forest. If he just hunted the deer willy-nilly, he’d—

He’d cause exponentially greater losses in profit than if I gave you monthly rations, Kinsel said, mimicking Arvin’s nasal voice. Don’t you ever make any spare money from those potions of yours? He gently drummed his fingers on the wooden counter between them. The drizzle outside matched his rhythm as it pattered against the windows.

Arvin shook his head. No, I prefer direct trades.

Don’t you have your own house? That’s not normal for someone your age.

The mayor doesn’t make me pay rent. Arvin reached into his bag. He didn’t enjoy being the local charity case, but he’d learned to take what he could get. If you really need more convincing, I do have some rare sleeping potions that can clear your nasal passages. I know how much your wife complains about your snoring.

Kinsel stopped drumming his fingers as his face turned bright red. How do you know—

Listen, Mr. Retz. These potions are made from moonleaves, which you know full well will only sprout once a month, and they’re absurdly difficult to make. You can’t find this recipe outside of the capital. I can give them to you and help you sleep more peacefully. But first— Arvin withdrew a corked vial of rose gold liquid from his ever-hefty satchel and gently shook it in front of the butcher. —I’m going to need more steaks. He stared intently at Kinsel.

A moment passed. Kinsel let out a long sigh and walked into the storeroom behind him.

A few minutes later, he returned with an exasperated smile. You’re the worst, kid. He slapped two steaks onto the counter.

Arvin grinned. Is that so? Because the way I see it, we both benefit from this trade. He stuffed the steaks into an empty grain sack and left a week’s worth of sleep potions in their place. Have a good day, Mr. Retz.

You’d think your parents would have had the decency to teach you some manners, Kinsel teased before Arvin shut the door.

Arvin groaned as he left and dragged his hand down his face. He stopped at one of the puddles outside the butcher shop and leaned in to observe his reflection: his orange shoulder-length hair, his olive-colored skin, and his eyes—brown on his right and green on his left. His most prominent and mysterious feature was a large, scarlet burn that circled his green eye and distorted the upper left part of his face. It had been there as long as he’d wandered Threigsinn, almost like an oddly haunting birthmark. His friend, Chepha, liked to joke that he looked like charred firewood, and it was difficult for him to disagree.

Arvin shook himself out of his trance and pulled on the hood sewn onto his jacket. He started toward his home on the other side of town. Rain was rare during this time of the year, but he still wanted to be prepared for it.

He started thinking about what Kinsel had said to him. Even though he didn’t really mind that he was an orphan anymore, it was still a little grating to be reminded of it during a business transaction.

As he ruminated over Kinsel’s words, the mayor’s daughter, Felicia, called out to him. Hey hey, Arvin!

Felicia was about the same age as Arvin. She always tried to talk to him, but it was rarely because she wanted a genuine conversation.

Irritated, Arvin took a deep breath and looked over at her. What do you want?

I was just thinking that you’re really good with chemicals. Right?

He narrowed his eyes. Yes. And?

Well, I was just wondering if you could make the other kids and me some drinks for the Carnival? Everyone at the after-party would really appreciate it… Felicia wrapped her pinky around Arvin’s.

He sighed. I’m not interested in your after-party. He carefully removed his pinky from hers, his brow furrowed.

Aww, why not? she asked, pouting.

Because you keep asking for the same favors in the same way, and you keep expecting the same results. When you think of a better opener at a better time, let me know. Arvin disdainfully eyed her as he turned away.

Felicia sighed and grabbed his wrist. Arvin, I’m sorry; I just want to help you get out there more. Her airheaded manner of speaking was replaced with a shockingly businesslike tone. I know you and Chepha are close friends, and she’s amazing, but you never talk to anyone else.

Arvin blinked as he tried to process the sudden change in her demeanor. Perhaps it’s because we both have similar interests in trade. I understand your desire to be young and free, but if I’m going to provide for myself, I won’t have much time to party, he lied. He doubted that the local social butterfly would understand his aversion to large gatherings. Especially since we don’t get anything from the empire besides the occasional bounty poster. It’s difficult to find most of my ingredients.

Seriously? Dad already told me you don’t have to pay rent, so— She sneezed before she could finish. Ick. I’ll talk to you again once the rain lets up. Same time, same place. Okay?

Before he could answer, Felicia turned on her heel and strode away. Arvin continued his dreary walk home as he tried not to put his growing annoyance on display.

He eventually arrived at his homely hut and opened the squeaking door. He looked at his best friend sitting on the table.

Hello there, Chepha. Glad to see you on a day like this. Arvin smiled despite his sour mood.

Chepha Vulcana was the blacksmiths’ daughter and hardworking apprentice. She was also Arvin’s only friend for the past year. Despite her gruff and overworked parents, she acted as a ray of sunshine for everybody in Shantyton. Her dark brown hair was in a high ponytail with strands that framed her round, sun-kissed face. Her dark brown eyes were aimed at Arvin.

Hey, look on the bright side, Arvin! We finally got to use those hoods. She rolled her neck. I’m glad Mom liked your idea.

I enjoy preparing for the unexpected. He adjusted his satchel. As he turned to close the door, he heard a loud growl in the distance. Ah, I see Fido smells the snacks I brought him. Just a minute, boy! I need to start working!

Chepha sighed, looked out the window, and leaned back on the table. You know, the rain actually looks really nice out there.

Arvin nodded absentmindedly, rifling through his bag before pulling out a bundle of carrots. I guess. Could you help me fix up a new batch of sleepers?

Huh? Chepha looked away from the window. Oh, um, sure! What happened to the last batch?

I gave them to Mr. Retz is what happened, Arvin said. He turned around and raised a steak in the rain. Fido! Eat up!

A giant grey wolf charged and leapt on top of Arvin, leaving mud all over his jacket. Hey, down! he yelled, scratching Fido’s ears. He smiled despite himself as the wolf rolled off him, wagging his tail excitedly. I have your food, boy.

Chepha smiled as Arvin waved the steak in front of his snout. You gave them to Mr. Retz? What did you get for them?

Arvin looked over his shoulder as Fido gnawed on his food. Steak.

Frig off. Chepha rolled her eyes, her smile reaching her ears. You know, you could just let Mr. Retz rent Fido to hunt.

Arvin stared. And you think Fido won’t eat all of the venison?

Hey, Mr. Retz could train him!

But would he? Arvin crossed his arms.

Chepha laughed. Sometimes you act like he’s your only child.

Lux, I hope not. Babies are so high-maintenance.

Chepha smacked the back of his head, probably with more strength than she intended. Hey, babies are the lifeblood of this town. Why do you think everyone has so many? She laughed.

Ow, fair enough. He laughed and fell onto Fido’s back. Come on, now; we have to start working before night falls. Sorry, boy. He sighed, scratching the wolf’s neck as he stuck his head in the door.

Aw, get a room, you two, Chepha teased. She pulled on her goggles and rushed down to the laboratory. Arvin laughed, shut the door, and donned his goggles before following after her.

The basement was much larger than the ground floor. The walls were lined with shelves filled with notes and supplies. The air was filled with dust and soot. Were it not for the four tables littered with even more notes, dusty glassware, and haphazardly scattered reagents, it would have fit two kitchens and a bedroom. Instead, two twin beds sat in adjacent corners in case Chepha decided to stay the night.

Chepha saw the state of the lab and let out an exasperated sigh. You know, you could stand to make the place a little neater.

Cleanliness isn’t necessary when I know where everything is. Arvin watched her walk off to grab a cauldron.

Lux, you’re insufferable sometimes. Chepha began dragging said cauldron from the corner opposite her bed. Hey, I’m gonna need you to light the fire! She pulled her goggles over her eyes.

On it. He pulled his goggles on and pointed at a pit in the center of the room. Thanks for making that basin, by the way.

Chepha smiled and tossed some hay into the pit. Hey, we made it for you almost a year ago. You have to stop thanking me.

He shrugged and yawned. It’s been very useful. His green eye turned red behind his goggles as a bolt of fire flew from his finger. He cringed involuntarily as the hay caught fire.

Meanwhile, Chepha only looked at him as she hefted the cauldron over the flame. What happened today, Arvin?

It’s not a big deal. He laid out the carrots on a cutting board and finely sliced them with a knife from his bag.

Chepha poked his cheek with her gloved hand and said, Y’know, I can tell when you’re lying to me.

Arvin smiled, slid the carrots into the cauldron, and rummaged through some drawers. Do you want to hear the abbreviated version or the full one?

Aw, do you really have to ask at this point? Chepha groaned. You gotta be more open with me! She slapped his back and laughed with Arvin as he stumbled forward.

Alright, alright, I’ll tell you! Arvin pulled out a bushel of moonleaves: stark white flowers with black stems and leaves. Well, I had just made the transaction with Mr. Retz. As I left, he asked me if my parents had taught me any manners.

Chepha winced. Oh, Friga, that sucks.

Arvin sighed. That’s not even the worst of it. I met Felicia on my way back. He began plucking the leaves and slicing them into ribbons.

Yeah? What did she want this time? she asked, her arms crossed.

Booze, what else? He slid the herbs into the pot, turning the water inside a silvery grey like the potions he’d given to Kinsel. But it was strange; she changed her demeanor and told me she just wanted me to open up to other people here.

Chepha tilted her head. Well, that’s… unusually nice of her, she mused, stirring the concoction with a comically large spoon. I think you need to turn up the heat, by the way.

Arvin smiled and snapped at the bright orange flames. His smile slid off of his face as they started to crawl up the cauldron. Yes, I’d suppose it was. But I’m not sure if she was being facetious.

Chepha rolled her eyes as she continued stirring. I don’t think she’d be a bad friend if she’s being honest.

That’s not exactly something for you to decide, he snapped, pointing again and causing the flames to disperse.

You know, I think they’re more open to being your friend than you realize. She pulled the spoon away and left it to dry.

Oh, they wouldn’t. They would treat me like a charity case once they knew I’m an orphan; Felicia’s dad already does, anyway.

I don’t think the others would be bothered by that. Chepha sighed, grabbing the bottles from a cupboard. I really appreciate being the one gal you can trust, but you need to get out more. Get a girlfriend! Learn to dance!

Chepha, you remember what happened when you made me dance at last year’s Carnival. I tripped over you and myself several times.

Well, practice makes perfect. Chepha sighed. But you can’t just talk to me and Fido forever! I know you’ve wandered a lot before, but it’s almost been a year since you settled down here in Shantyton, and you haven’t made any new friends. She returned to the cauldron and flicked Arvin’s forehead. Corks, dork, she declared.

He sighed as he rummaged through the cupboard behind him. So sweet, yet so rude, he mused as he turned with a jar of corks in his hand. He slid the jar across the table and slapped the table as Chepha caught it.

Oorah! she shouted, pumping her free fist in the air. She opened the jar and withdrew a pair of tongs, dipping the bottles into the mixture and scooping as much as she could before corking them shut.

Huzzah. Arvin grinned. He grabbed his own pair of tongs and helped her cork all of the bottles. When they finally finished, they flopped onto their respective beds.

Jeez, Arvin. Chepha sighed and turned