Naihabi Ridge

Chapter Seventeen - Solemnity

Avi

It was dark.
    
I kept my eyes closed because they hurt too much to try opening them. I felt every inch of my body in languages of pain, and I remembered what it felt like when the straps held me down. Shivering hurt, but I was cold. And hot.
    
Figured.
    
My ears rang and I regretted that I had to breath through the pain in my chest. I groaned on the inside because it would hurt too much to do it physically. Then a familiar smell of arid disease hit my senses and I coughed, instantly regretting every moment I struggled against the constricting belts. I bit my lip and opened my eyes, and I was unsurprisingly met with darkness. Why did so much of this nightmare have to consist of darkness?
    
As I laid there staring at the ceiling, quiet voices resounded in the distance somewhere above the ringing in my head. A scene played back in my mind and I was fairly certain of where I was. A familiar creaking noise met my ears and a long sliver of light burned into my eyes. I shut them and tried not to wince again. Just the thought of wincing hurt.
    
"Do you think he's even still alive?" An unfamiliar, youthful voice whispered hoarsely. I didn't like his tone or the things he was saying one bit.
    
"If you're implying my medical skills are insufficient, I'll sew your mouth shut." Another unfamiliar voice said, this one older but with a charming lilt. Harsh like my father's was, but this person's voice was more rough around the edges. More relatable, somehow. "And give him a few more days. They must have found him on the brink of death, and for him to catch fever—no one would be able to heal over just three days! I don't know how he was able to keep up with them. Honestly, that Romia girl ought to be more responsible with her apprentice."
    
"Like you're one to talk, Master Steph." The boy jeered.
    
"If I recall correctly, you were on your hands and knees begging for an apprenticeship." The man chuckled at the undignified grunt that came from the boy, then the floorboards creaked as he came up to the bedside. I felt his hot breath on my cheek as he examined me. I didn't move, though. I didn't even think about it.
    
"He's conscious." The man stated, and there was a moment of what I assumed was surprise from the boy as well as from me. I hadn't the slightest idea of how he could tell, but I didn't particularly care, either. I had more painful issues to worry about.
    
"So why does he still look dead?"

I wanted to punch the kid. He made me clench my jaw, and there was shot of pain up through to my ears, making the ringing worse. And knowing I was not indeed dead... the little brat.

But in all fairness, I couldn't disagree with him. I hadn't seen myself, but if I looked like what I felt like, then the whole Ridge would be evacuated by now... When was now?

Then the man's words came back to me. It had been three days?

The door was more closed now and the light was no longer in my eyes, so I could open them. I ignored my body's obvious dislike of that idea and blinked a few times.

The man was standing right next to the bed. He was older than Master Romia, but probably not by much. Late thirties, early forties, maybe. He had a short beard that matched the shade of his dark chocolate hair and his dimples fit like clockwork on his slightly aged face. He was masculine, so to speak, and most would call him attractive. But what stuck out was the deep, jagged scar that ran from under his left eye all the way down his neck and into his shirt. He smiled kindly at me.
    
I looked over at the boy who leaned on the doorframe. He was probably fourteen or fifteen, but I already knew that he had a solid grasp on insults. He had heavily tanned skin and overly scruffy hair that was almost the same dusty color. He was shorter than me by at least a few inches and he had a boyish look to him. His features were rounder, but he had plenty of scratches in and around the dull and standard rags that were only worn at Naihabi Ridge—probably from his touchy behavior. He stared at me, his eyes wide as they met mine.
    
Grudgingly, I remembered what he would be staring at. I was a freak now. I had smokey white hair and unnaturally bright orange eyes. I would have to get used to those kinds of looks or forever hold my peace.
    
The boy looked at his master, recovering from his surprise. "Do we know how he got this way?"
    
The man shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Romia just carried him in and asked me to do something,"—he looked at me and chuckled—"and I have never treated anyone so close to death in my life."
    
If there was any time I wanted to speak, it was now, and I really, really hoped that the voice could hear my thoughts.
    
"I'll have you know I'm not a god, Avi."
    
Speak of the devil.
    
"I can't just heal you whenever I want to. I'm only a celestial." She sighed as if she had explained this a million times, "But I can relieve some pain, if it's necessary. It will slow the healing process, though."
    
Yes. Yes to it all. Anything that would help because as it was, it was almost physically impossible for me to move or communicate in any fashion.
    
"Your choice."
    
Immediately, the pain in my body lessened, though it didn't disappear like before. No, but it was one of the best feelings to clear my throat and take in a deep, free breath of stale, crusty air. I felt better already.
    
I looked again at the pair that was still in the room with me and I noticed the man's eyebrows lift dramatically as he saw my movement loosen. With a huff, I propped myself up on my elbow to get a better look at the place.
    
It was still dark, so I didn't get to see as much as I would have liked, but it was still the familiar old shack feeling I'd gotten from this place the last time I was here. I sighed, remembering how long ago that was. Four months at least. I didn't even know how long it'd been, only that it was way too long.
    
I cleared my throat again in preparation to speak, but it still came out as a croak. "Who are you?"
    
The boy burst out laughing, but the man bent down to me and began asking questions quicker than I could follow.
    
"Is there anything that hurts?" The man finally got quiet, and I chuckled, wincing.
    
"Are you joking?"
    
"How are you moving so freely then?"
    
"I'm not," I said, looking down at my shoulder, which was wrapped neatly in long strips of frayed fabric. They had taken my shirt off to access my arm, which was brought up in a sling that tied uncomfortably at my neck, and my collar felt like a million stab wounds had banded together under my skin. But I put that aside and instead pulled the sheet away with my left hand and dangled my legs off the side of the bed, helping to pull me to a sitting position. But before I could attempt to stand, the man was already trying to get me to lay down again.

I growled my denial, then heaved a sigh. "Where is Master Romia?"

I was looking at the man in front of me, but it was the boy who responded, "I can go get her," and ran off before anyone could stop him.

When his steps faded, I looked the man in the eyes and a grim irritation ached within me for reasons I couldn't understand. "Who are you?"

I thought I saw something cross his eyes and he hesitated. "I am Stephan Otek, the doctor who treated you after your master—my friend—brought you to me, barely alive. And the boy that was with me is Kit, a refugee I took in after his village was attacked. People call me Steph, though, if—if you want to..."

I went still. Was that fear on his face? I had been staring into his eyes and I realized now that I couldn't do that anymore. Not when even I could agree that orange was a scary color for eyes.

I lowered my gaze and stood, but stumbled sideways into the wall with my injured shoulder. I gasped through clenched teeth at the shrieking pain that struck my broken collar like lightning and my breaths came heavy and black dots blurred my vision as Steph hurried to me. He quickly swept me off the ground and laid be back on the bed, but by that time, I was panting, wishing more than anything for a moment of painlessness. I was answered with dizziness and finally, pitch black.