Tragic Innocence

Chapter 42: Enchantress and Turon

            Crow felt his body lifting and could feel swaying movements all around him.  There was no pain nor sorrow, only a deep void that yawned vastly all around.  Peace filled his breast and he could not clearly recall what it was that he had been battling with.  He gazed down and gasped with bewilderment, seeing to his astonishment, his own body resting in twisted angles of stillness atop Pentulla as if she slumbered.

            Yearning suddenly filled his heart as he longed for their survival and how so many things had been left unsaid and undone…  Then--

            “Crow--” a raspy voice whispered his name close by.

            Crow struggled to open his eyes, but felt hot pain, white and volatile, shooting through his head.  He heard his own voice groaning with unfamiliar declaration.

            “That’s it--Crow, listen to my voice…” again, the raspy voice pleaded.       Crow could feel warmth pressing firmly on either side of his face.  His face was then turned into another direction and again, felt a sharpening ache lighting his body.  He grunted and gasped, feeling his body tensing.  Delirium washed over his entire being.  One moment he felt light and free, and the next, heavy and filled with nothing but anguish.

            “Crow, you will be fine.  You have, miraculously, survived--” the voice cracked upon itself as tears could now be heard.  “I don’t know if you can hear me, but I have used part of my magic to aid in your healing.  I know that you have always been adamant as to regarding my usage of power reserves.  But I truly felt it a need to utilize it this time, twice.  Crow--can you hear me?” the voice was filled with quaking fear. (* does twice have a significance?)

            Crow attempted to move, but felt stiff and achy all over.  His throat felt as if he had swallowed masses of bloody sand, for it was dry and extremely painful.

            “Here, drink this…”

            Crow felt his head being lifted up very gently and his neck protested hotly, but he had no choice.  Then cool, blessed liquid dribbled down his parched lips and he attempted to open his eyes once more.

            “That’s it…  Crow, you are doing it!”

            The Turon listened with full intent the soothing and familiar voice as it coaxed him to consciousness.  His eyes felt hot and sticky, but he forced himself to open them.  Once accomplishing such a tedious task, he saw that the illumination of the chamber that he resided was dimmed to a tolerable pleasant ambiance.

            “There now…  Your wounds have healed quite nicely, however, the pain will take time to replenish to newness.  I am sorry, I could only reach so far before it becomes me…”

            Crow closed his eyes and opened them again, attempting to focus upon the hazy objects that surrounded him.  It was very dark within the far reaches, but yet, it was softly illuminated.  “Where--” he swallowed hard with a whimper, feeling the walls of his throat collapsing.  His eyes began to well up with tears.  “Where--” feeble coughs interrupted his attempts.

            “Shhhh.  You are safe, here, with me.  I assure you that no harm can touch you.  Even his magic is too weak to break through my barrier.”  Her inflection was filled with brittle resentment as her soothing hands brushed through his lengthy hair.

            Crow opened his eyes again, this time, feeling less agony.  He surveyed the space enveloping him and found it strange.  It was vast and empty, filled with nothing but deep blackness, however, the heavens shown brightly all around.  Stars, many of them, softly glowed along with the twin moons.  He turned his face and studied the shimmering that seemed to keep the heavens at bay.  Magic.  But whose?