Chapter eleven: Wylan

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Waking up had been a crucial mistake on his part. In the void of darkness he had been in, Wylan hadn't felt any of the pain or the searing fire that now covered the entirety of his being. His mind had been numb to the fact that he couldn't move his legs and that he could feel his own warm blood slowly creeping closer and closer to the outer edges of his bandage, betraying him as more and more of it seeped out. Every joint, every muscle felt like it was pinned to whatever position he'd been thrown on the ground in, he couldn't move anything and if he did, an agony so sharp it could form a physical blade, would scrape down his spine fraying every nerve. Wylan had a terrifying suspicion that the knife had possibly nicked— or worse— his spinal cord, and that nothing short of a Grisha Healer would be able to help him.

No matter how much his body hurt however, it was his heart that took the most damage every time he saw Jesper look towards him. Seeing the sheer terror and worry that filled Jesper's face as he was forced to sit and do nothing while Wylan was in pain was almost too much for him. Jesper hadn't even been able to crack a few jokes to lighten the mood in all of his stress. This anomaly of a silent Jesper was the final pin in Wylan's debate of how serious his injuries were.

The others had tried asking Wylan if he was okay, about what had happened to him, but he couldn't answer them no matter how hard he tried. Breathing hurt and every time he opened his mouth to talk the bruises on his face twinged in pain. He'd tried mumbling a few things at first, but they couldn't hear him. The people they had been wanting to meet, the people that had captured them, they were incredibly talented and could have killed him instantly. The fact that they hadn't was not a small miracle, although now he figured it had been done on purpose to use him as leverage on Inej. An idea that he whole heartedly despised.

Two of the black clad assassins had jumped Wylan at his position on the bridge. The surprise of one of the men grabbing him from behind and the other one swinging a punch at his face had made him tense up so much that he'd accidentally triggered the gas bombs. Fortunately however, triggering them was the only reason he'd been able to get away from them, if even for a moment, and prepare enough to fight back. The explosion and following cover of the gas had loosened the grip the guy behind him had and he'd used it to wrench free of his enclosed arms. The men had chased him into the cloud of smoke but Wylan had headed straight for Kaz, knowing that the only way he could possibly survive was if he had Kaz's help.

In the end it hadn't mattered, but at least Wylan was able to give them more of a fight with Kaz's cane flying behind him. There had been two other assassins Kaz was fighting when Wylan joined him so odds weren't in their favor, but they'd held their ground for a few minutes. By the end of it, Wylan had been the one to seal their loss. He had turned to warn Kaz who'd been busy fighting two of the men off, when one of the people Wylan had been barely holding back had turned to sneak up on Kaz with a knife. The panic that had ensnared him foolishly caused Wylan to forget his own remaining opponent and help Kaz. The action had resulted in the man he was facing sending a long, jagged dagger through his back, the point of it barely pushing up through the front of his shirt. He'd released a cry as the pain cut through him after the blade and as his knees buckled, sending him to the ground. Kaz had been distracted by his dramatic fall long enough for the others to rip his cane from his hand and push him to the ground, pinning him right next to Wylan. The last thing he saw before a boot came down on his face was Kaz's panicked eyes. Then everything had gone black.

After that, he'd fazed in and out of consciousness seeing only snippets of faces and bandages, feeling only enough pain for his mind to register it before putting him back into an endless void. He remembered little before waking up in the cramped cabin, tied up on the ground beside the other three. Everything had seemed like some strange fever dream that had passed in front of him without his eyes truly focusing in on anything enough to catch it.

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