Chapter 53

42.3K 2.4K 110
                                    

Early on the sixth day since the attack, Sebastian awoke.

Aldren had been alternatively sleeping fitfully in a small cot or sitting by his friends bedside and was bone weary. However, when he saw eyes long closed flutter and open, he shouted for the Witch or Marcie, who regularly checked on him and both came running.

He stepped back as they checked and spoke in gentle whispers.
Sebastian attempted to talk but screwed his face up in pain and lifted his hands shakily to his chest and abdomen, feeling the bandages and healing wounds beneath.
The witch issued instructions and she and Marcie carefully lifted Sebastian till he was sitting up, then they packed pillows behind him and made him drink.
Jin laughed aloud as the patient took stock of his surroundings and then said in a weak raspy voice, "Forgive me sire...I should not have caused you so much trouble..."
Aldren shook his head, "You did nothing wrong friend, nothing. Strike it from your mind"
Sebastian wheezed then his eyes drifted closed and the lines on his face smoothed out.
"He'll be doing that a lot" The witch said, when he looked at her in alarm.
"In an outin an out, he'll sleep a lot then not a lot, but its good news, means he'll be alright in a few days. Weak, but alright"
Aldren thanked her, she made a humph sound and went to make some tea. Marcie lifted Basti's head gently to help him drink some and Aldren noticed a streak of white in the middle of his dark hair. It stretched from his scalp to the tip, just one thread of white against dark. He was sure it had not been there before.


Over the next few days, Sebastian did exactly what the Witch said he would, he slept, then woke then stayed awake for a long time staring at the ceiling, he ate when he was given food and drank when it was offered, he spoke little, but did not appear to be in too much pain. When his sleeping spells were more regular, the Witch instructed him to begin walking, to regain his strength.
He resisted, panic creeping into his voice until the Witch, with surprising strength, pulled his arm over her shoulders and heaved him out of the bed till his feet touched the floor. Aldren went to take over but Sebastian vehemently refused, so Jin and Marcie took an arm each and he shuffled and floundered around for a while until he was so exhausted they had to carry him back to the bed and lay him down in it. Where he slept for a whole day.
As soon as he awoke, The Witch instructed him to do it again, and again, walking around the room with help until his legs got strong enough for Jin to help him by himself and he was not so reliant on the support.



Dafne took Marcie to one side, after Sebastian took his first couple of steps by himself and told her to see that the Daygon received the same instructions.
She snuck out when no one was paying attention and, making sure the door was locked behind her and made her way to Dafne's room. Inside she found the Daygon prince awake and lucid, Svetatessa was whispering to him in their own language, and he appeared to be listening, as he nodded carefully and whispered something back. He looked gaunt and even paler than usual, and a strip of white showed in the blood red hair that framed his face, just as it did Sebastian's. A memento from the tree that had saved them perhaps?
As she stepped into the room Kesuvanna sheathed his knife and nodded at her from his perch next to the door and went back to staring at the opposite wall.
The prince stared at her as she neared and Svetatessa eyed her approach suspiciously.
She informed them of Dafne's instructions.
The prince nodded "It is right to force the body to endure and strengthen. It must be the case if I wish to regain my previous strength"
Well, at least he didn't object like Sebastian did.
It started in much the same way. Marcie and Svetatessa held the prince up and he commanded his legs to move and support more and more weight. He grasped it very quickly and within a few hours he was walking properly with only Svetatessa holding his upper arm. Marcie marvelled at the fast progression of his recovery.
When Kesuvanna saw her expression of mild disbelief he caught her eye and with a smug look opened his mouth to say something, however Marcie cut him off,
"Yes yes I know, You are Daygon" she said briskly, he closed his mouth with a snap.
Svetatessa lowered the prince to the bed once more, despite his apparent swiftness of recovery he did appear tired, grey stood out around his eyes in contrast to his pale skin.
He eased his bandaged body onto the the sheets and after moment of fussing he looked up at Marcie, as if he had only just noticed her.
"Forgive my condition fair one" he gritted his teeth, "I would not that my weakness was so...apparent"
Marcie waved it away, "Think nothing of it"
He did not appear satisfied, he shifted, Svetatessa twitched, as if to help him. He noticed the movement and shot her a look that spoke a thousand words. She relented.
"You are not of our people, you do not understand our ways" he said to her, he grimaced, "It is not right that I should be attended by you"
Marcie shrugged unconcerned, "You were injured, you need to rest and recuperate." Then she had a thought. "Dafne is respected by your people yes? Well I am assisting her in healing you, this is her home and far from yours, it is an exception"
Silence followed. Then Svetatessa laughed, a rich and throaty sound that made Marcie jump. She said something in their language to the two men and laughed again, turning to Marcie she said, "I knew I liked you"
Marcie did not know what to say so she took her leave, checked on Sebastian and then helped Dafne make everyone some tea.



Duruin shuffled around the small room, trying to stretch his leg muscles in a way that didn't cause them to cramp and seize. His shoulders felt tight and weighed down and his head felt as though full of wool. He gritted his teeth in frustration and tried to ignore Svetatessa's and Hesuvanna's silent judgement.
Once he was at full strength he would have to prove his worth yet again, for fear of them renouncing his worth as a warrior. Maybe he would hunt down those three interlopers and personally avenge when they had caused done to him? Oh yes, that would be perfect. No weapons, he would rip them apart with his bare hands, saving the servant for last. No punishment greater than watching your masters die and knowing you would soon follow.
Again he cursed the Mes'soon for sparing his life; it created too many questions and doubts.
He walked and stretched until he could no more then lay out on the bed, calming his breathing.
The woman, Marcie, entered the room, her arms full of fresh linen bandages. She paused at the threshold of the portal and hesitated.She did this before, as if unsure how to treat him. Should she bow? She was unfamiliar with their customs so he allowed the slight upon his person. The Forgotten were beyond the boundaries of the civilised world and were therefore exempt.
"Dafne has asked me to change your bandages" she said, shyly in the rarely used language of their people.
Hesuvanna and Svetatessa exchanged a look.
"Proceed fair one" he said, begrudgingly, recognising it as an important part of his recovery, however humiliating it would be.
The woman walked to the end of his bed and piled the linen on the floor, she reached out and with a glance at his face to ask his permission, began to unwind the soiled bandages.
He felt no pain from his wounds but refused to look at the ruined skin until the woman uttered a small gasp and he looked down, his heart thudding, expecting the worst.
The terrible wounds that had split him open were sealed.
Great white lines of scar tissue formed what had been gaping chasms in his flesh.
He sank back into the pillows, relieved. However the woman did not appear as relieved as he, she stared that the scars in disbelief,
"Incredible" she whispered, placing her finger on a scar and tracing the ridge of what had only a few days ago been a mighty gash in flesh and organ.
"Have you not seen the powers of the Mes'soon at work?" Svetatessa asked,
Marcie shook her head.
"I only found out about it recently" she said, entranced by the pale lines on the pale flesh.

"It is an honour to be chosen by the great one to have thine life preserved" Hesuvanna said, his voice twisted as he said it and the woman glanced at him sharply. No wonder she knew the other life it had saved.

"It demands a heavy price though" she said, taking in his feeble prone body. He gritted his teeth in shame.

Svetatessa made a sound of acknowledgement, "No gift given is without price and no price goes unpaid" she said.

The woman continued her work in silence, she gathered the soiled bandaged and informed him that he would not need new ones as the wounds were sealed. He thanked her after a moments hesitation, dipping his head In her direction. She left.

He strained and listened and heard her lock the door at the end of the corridor firmly behind her.

"Is the sliva'e who caused this behind that door?" he asked,

"Undoubtedly" Svetatessa replied sourly, "The main room is used as a treatment room for the villages sick. There is no where else the Mi'calla would tend to him"

"It would be so easy to dispose of him" he murmured, already planning having the sliva'e's throat in his grasp"

"Victory is never easy" Svetatessa chided, "The Mi'calla is great and will no doubt have employed magic to spare her home the blood soaking"

Duriun growled.

"Patience"Svetatessa said gently, "The time will come, put it from your mind, focus on recovering your strength and partake in your vengeance when the might of the Mi'calla is not opposing you"

He listened and beheld the wise words. However his frustration and need for action burned within him. He wanted to shout, to scream and release this anger within him, yet his body betrayed him and he was left tired and trembling. So he closed his eyes and tried to sleep.

But his dreams were filled with images of a person running and catching him and he unable to fight as he was so weak and they laughed and then the image was burned away and he was walking through The Forgotten Forest, the trees towering above him and pressing in on him from all sides and he stumbled among them, wishing he had a horse as he tripped over a root and cut the palm of his hand on a broken branch and he stumbled and staggered until the trees formed a clearing filled with old broken and dried tree stumps, and in the centre of the clearing stood a woman, her back to him. As he approached she became clearer and he saw that her skin was made up of hundreds upon hundreds of twisting tree roots. He walked around her and saw her face. Her beautiful face.

"Mes'soon"He whispered,

The Mes'soon ignored him and raised her thin tree root arms above her head towards the sun that shone bright and yellow over the clearing, filling it with glorious light, she beheld it with huge black orb like eyes. Eyes filled with many thing, things more important and with more meaning than him.

He felt so small while the Mes'soon began to grow, or he became smaller, until she towered over him like a mountain. She stood with her arms raised seeming to capture the sun in her outstretched hands when the sun set, instantly.

The darkness filled him and dwarfed him and yet he could see the Mes'soon clear as day. And then she lowered her arms turned and looked down at him where he stood. And he was struck by how sad she looked and her eyes seemed to swallow him until they were all he could see.

And that was when he awoke, weeping.

He curled his body inwards and squeezed his eyes shut, the tears dripping down his nose. He was thankful Svettatessa and Hesuvanna had partaken in Man'tra to stay awake at his side and sat as still as statues, aware of nothing but that which might pose a threat to him. They would not notice his quiet sobs or the shaking that racked his body. He felt a sting of pain in his hand and when he looked he saw a small cut across his palm.

Dragon Tamer - Book 1Where stories live. Discover now