Blood, Gold and Broken Lace

Chapter 3

Lloyd was kinda freaking out. Maybe. Sorta. Just a little.

He was in some place called the 'Sanctum', which was watched over by this magic dude. Who wasn't an Elemental Master apparently. (Maybe he was like Clouse, Lloyd wasn't sure what the guy did.)

He'd lost the Realm Crystal and he lost Morro.

It was horrible but at least he wasn't going to have a breakdown because of it anymore. So—uh...6/10?? Maybe? At least he wasn't a solid 2/10 anymore. Because the aftermath of being possessed was the worst. Tremors, nightmares, flashbacks, the phantom feeling of cold hands pressing all over him. Oh and you can't forget the absolute feeling of helplessness and the void of nothing that clawed at his feet and prickled relentlessly at the edge of his mind. That was probably the worst, Lloyd hated feeling helpless.

So—yeah. He's...sorta maybe okay now. It's been a few days, Lloyd wasn't exactly sure how long but it's been at least three. If the light that showed through that big eye window that came and went was any indication. There weren't any clocks that made sense in this place. So he had to rely on his internal clock (which was shot at the moment), the light levels in the Sanctum and what Doctor Strange said. (At least he was more straight forward then Wu.)

The guy was good enough company.

Lloyd was still freaking out about his friends. But at least the Preeminent couldn't be released. And maybe that was one of the reasons he was sorta maybe okay. Otherwise he'd be...

...

A-anyway. He was okay.

His wounds were healing nicely, the trace of Gold inside him stitching him back together and his Oni–Dragon blood numbing the pain and helping the process even further. Lloyd wasn't sure what he'd do if a broken leg didn't heal in less than a week. Cry maybe?

And Lloyd couldn't remember the last time he'd been allowed to sleep for so long. At Darkely's he woke up at 7 am sharp to the sounds of pots and pans and yelling adults. When he was kicked out for 'not being bad enough' (he just didn't want to push Bradly down the stairs and somehow he was the one in the wrong) he barely slept because he was homeless. And with the ninja....he well...he was waking up with them. Waking up at 7 am was sleeping in. And at some point a bamboo stick to head got real old and you just woke up with the sun instead of trying to roll over. (It seems his sleeping habits hadn't really gotten that much better either.)

So being able to sleep in as much as he wanted was...Lloyd...he wasn't sure what he should do about it. He still woke up earlier, occasionally he'd startle when something creaked a little too loudly or something shifted a little too far to the right. He still woke up at the butt crack of dawn, but it was...nice to have the option of sleeping in. Just having it there did wonders on his nerves. Not much of his nerves but still some of them. It was still nice to have that option there.

So here he was. Somewhere into the fourth or fifth day. Waking up when he normally would've anywhere else. He awoke to silence.

Because no one was here. It was just him and the dust.

...

And that was horrible for his nerves.

He still got up anyway. He had things to do. Even if that was just him telling himself that.

(::)

Lloyd finished running his hands through his hair, trying to avoid his own gaze in the mirror while still trying to see if his hair was going in the right direction. He knew he looked horrible. Not as horrible as he did before—but still; horrible.