The Severaine

Chapter Seventeen Between Life and Death-3

“So how was your first death dream?” he asked softly having established she was all right. He had been lucky to catch her, she had appeared exactly in the place she left, falling through the shift of the planes as the momentum threw her off balance.

“He chose to continue fighting.” She smiled brightly as he pulled her from the tilted position and into his arms.

“You are good,” he whispered. He was still holding her despite the fact she stood on her own. Suddenly he became aware of their closeness, of the warmth where their bodies met. He looked down to her, his eyes drawn to her lips. A primal part of him wanted, no needed, to claim her as his own. He lowered his head slightly and closed his eyes, inhaling her soft scent as he drew closer.

The sweet smell of plum blossom tickled his senses. His lips lowered to brush against hers, sending his pulse racing. Closing his eyes he surrendered himself to their kiss, his hands tracing her contours as his lips on hers vowed silently to make her his forever. Hearing his own thoughts, he pulled back in alarm, remembering himself. Releasing her he stepped away in a quick smooth movement. It was only now, as he realised that he could claim her, pursue a relationship with her blessed by the acceptance of his people, that he realised why he should not.

* * *

Stacy wrung out a cloth in the cool water, placing it on the forehead of the young man Blackwood had named as Marc. He was wrought with fever, convulsions plaguing his semi-conscious body as he writhed in pain. She spoke softly as she took the bowl within her hands advising she would return soon. As she emerged Helen rose to her feet, her eyes meeting Stacy's, and whilst she knew the answer, she had the courtesy to ask.

“How is he?”

“I think the worst is over,” Stacy advised, her vision focusing upon the bowl within her grasp before returning her focus to Helen. “How are you finding it here?” Stacy had been here a short time before Helen and having isolated herself from people for so long had initially found the presence of another daunting, as had Helen. They had allowed each other a measure of privacy, but with their abilities more controlled, thanks to the bracelets Blackwood had given them, they soon found themselves more comfortable together.

Stacy had been alarmed at first to find herself within these walls, the last thing she remembered before waking here was seeing the man she now knew as Blackwood standing before her in her home. She had been disappointed by people so many times in the past, her parents, who abandoned her at a temple when her psychokinesis began to manifest, and the temple itself, who kept her isolated as they tried to purge the demons from her before finally sending her to Mirage Lake. Just recalling its name saw the terror she felt there fill her mind.

Mirage Lake boasted great success in cleansing those touched by taint or impurity. Its sole purpose was to exorcise, cleanse, and modify unacceptable behaviour. The techniques for doing so were nothing short of torture, and those serving this place showed great talent in their craft. When the patients were returned, they were never the same, but that was the point. Their unacceptable behaviours had been corrected; they could once more continue to live an almost normal life.

Stacy flinched as Helen touched her arm, she had been lost in the memories, and whilst she had escaped, she had not done so unscathed.

“Gods, Helen, I'm so sorry.” Stacy gasped as she noticed Helen's colour. “I don't know what stirred such thoughts.”

“You're the one who suffered it, and yet you apologise to me?” Helen gave a slight chuckle. “Come, the ice won't appear in there itself.” Helen gestured toward the kitchen area, specifically to the place Blackwood had left the large ice block to thaw. Taking the ice pick, Stacy chiselled fragments as Helen refreshed the water. “To answer your earlier question, it's quite great actually. Quiet, it's not something I am used to. Even with you, and now him, here it's nice.” Helen had never known such peace, the bracelet seemed to suppress her talents to the point only strong emotional thoughts, such as the ones Stacy had just lost herself in, could be heard.

“So what do you know of him?” Stacy inclined her head towards Marc's room as she deposited the ice into the bowl.

“To be honest not a great deal, he's suffering, I know that much.”

“Yes. I should get back to him.” Helen nodded watching as Stacy disappeared into his room. She followed her in a moment later with a lukewarm glass of water in her hand.

When Helen entered the room, Stacy was helping him into a sitting position. He was showing more awareness than he had for the last few days. His vision fixed on the glass in Helen's hands, approaching she raised it to his lips slowly, his own trembling grip trying to support it as well.

“You were sold too?” His voice was hoarse, his teeth chattering through the shivers which wracked his body.

“You don't know where you are?” Helen questioned softly raising the glass once more so he could drink.

“No. They must have had enough of me though, that they'd sell me on like this. Although I doubt the buyer will get their money's worth, good for nothing, that's all I've been.” His voice gained some strength.

“Marc, the person who paid for you was Lord Blackwood, he's promised to rid us of our afflictions.” Stacy placed a gentle hand comfortingly on his arm before wrapping another blanket over him as his shivering worsened.

“Such a thing is possible? I was certain I had angered the Gods, why else would they curse me so.”

“Your curse?” Helen prompted wondering what strange condition saw his own parents wish to sell him. Not that any of them could judge. Helen herself had been sold to royalty when her talent had been discovered, and Stacy too had been abandoned. But to be sold at least suggested he was passable amongst the masses.

“I get ill. I think they called me nosokinetic.” He gave a bitter chuckle. “Always, since I was a child. Anytime someone carrying a disease so much as entered the town I was afflicted. What about you?”

“Mindsight,” Helen stated.

“Wow, I bet you're deemed a treasure.” He gave a weak smile, turning his sight to Stacy.

“Psychokinesis.”

“Heh, looks like I drew the short straw.”

“I don't know, you get better right? I can't silence the voices.” Helen placed her hand on his, tapping her forehead with her other hand.

“And I can't control mine. If not for this I think this place would be devastated.” Stacy raised her hand motioning towards the bracelet.

“I suppose it has its advantages, I mean look at me, I've two beautiful ladies nursing me.” He gave a weak smile leaning back against the headboard.

“We should let you rest. We'll be just outside if you need anything.”

“Where are we exactly, there's no windows.”

“We're not sure, Blackwood set aside this area for us. It's private, but we've not seen the outside. He needs to assess us, make sure we're ready for the process,” Stacy explained, but when she looked back to him he was already asleep, his brow still soaked with sweat, but at least his tremors had calmed.

* * *

As Daniel slowly became aware of his surroundings, he found the minimal pain a pleasant surprise. The sound of the winds as they beat upon the woven walls of the shelter was almost soothing enough to lull him back to sleep. As his eyes began to adjust to the darkness, he saw Eiji and Acha both lay close to him. Acha's arm rested gently across his chest, and even in this light he could see the redness of her face from the tears she had shed. Eiji lay behind her, his own arm holding her close as if to offer her comfort.

Daniel gently lifted her arm as he slid from beneath his cover. As he felt its weight he realised it was not only his blanket that had covered him, but theirs too in an attempt to keep him warm. He covered them carefully so not to disturb them, before quietly opening the door. An action which sent a burning hot pain through the place his injury had been.

He took a deep breath, inhaling the scents of the foreign air. The entire place smelt like sweet flowers, and he was unsure why he had failed to notice it before. Seeing the night sky, he made a quick calculation of the time, not realising that although his dream seemed to end in minutes, for him days had passed. He trod softly, in the hope not to disturb anyone as he made his way towards the small beach near where Alessia and Adom had fought. The gentle sounds of the crashing waves upon the rocky shore filled the air. He watched the waves as they fought to pull the smaller pebbles back into their depths.

There was something familiar about this place, something special. He felt comfortable here, safe, and filled with a peace that nowhere else offered him, a peace like that he had once felt returning home. He lay on the beach for a long time, listening to the waves as he studied the stars. Everything was so still, so tranquil, that when a voice startled him, he sat up far too quickly.

“Glad to see you are back with us.” He looked at Alessia, feeling his head spin at the speed of his startled movements. His stomach cramped causing him to lean forwards clutching it. “Do not strain yourself, you are healed, but the muscle is still recovering. Would I be correct in saying you are no stranger to this type of drỳcræft?”

“You did this?” he questioned in surprise.

“I did.”

“Thank you, it feels different to Zo's magic… erm drỳcræft though.” He offered the word she used, which brought a smile to her face. He touched the area where the spear had penetrated, the main noticeable difference being that he was still aware of it. The injury was tender, it felt itchy, like a cut that was starting to heal. “How did you find me?”

“I saw you leave. I hope you do not mind, I thought you may have been hungry.” She passed him a wooden bowl filled with a warm golden soup. Thanking her he slowly raised the bowl to his mouth. “You have some really special friends, they barely strayed from your side for three days.” She moved to sit beside him on the beach.

“Three days?” he choked feeling his muscles protest as his posture stiffened.

“Yes,” she answered softly. While Daniel drank the soup, he was aware of the curious glances she cast his way. He placed the empty bowl to one side before speaking.

“You want to ask why I attacked my friend?”

“Not really, Nemean has explained. It seems you share a special bond with an Oneiroi in training. It can cause all manner of problems, waking dreams and illusions. When she gains her full rank as an Oneiroi it will stop, in the meantime they are working on a temporary solution.”

“Zo.” He smiled, thinking back to the death dream and was grateful for having retained his memories of that time. Given her words he had feared that on waking the memory of what he had seen would have simply vanished. “She is amazing, she let me realise on my own exactly what I would be giving up if I chose to let go.”

“Were you close?”

“She was, is?” He shook his head, unsure what tense to address her in. “My closest friend.”