#diego deleon

The sentiment echoed through the scene his head was playing and tainted the image. Had he ever seen that warm, encouraging smile? In his state he couldn't be sure. All he could do was lumber up onto his knees and wait for the world to stop moving. The only things remaining in his line of sight were the ground and the golden, fan-shaped pendent that he'd dropped in his stupor. A trembling claw grasped at it quickly, clutching it in a newly balled-up fist as the rest of his body shifted upwards and stumbled over to the bed. As his weight crashed again onto his mattress, he burrowed his head between the pillows, and as he drifted off to sleep, his last conscious thoughts were concerted, frustrated attempts to get the song out of his head.  

”even the most turbulent storm of aether within you can be tamed if you only remember to breathe” The voice of his mentor echoed through the recesses of what Diego could access of his lucid memory. ’Breathe. Breathe, gods dammit!’ He thought. Those were the only thoughts he could process in the moment; desperate commands to himself. His lungs swelled within his chest, and barely any air remained in them. A pain  jutted into his abdomen with every attempt to open his lungs, but the pain only goaded him on. ‘I will breathe. I have to’ he repeated. Pushing through the pain, he pushed his diaphragm out, letting the slightest bit of air leak in, and with it came the briefest sliver of a cool sensation. ’that’s it!’ Again the pain shot through him. Again a small puff of air came through, but not nearly enough to sate the needs of his body. He was losing consciousness quickly, and his vision was going dark. One last heave of air inside sent a gust of cool aether down to his chest, barely enough to feel. But it was enough for him. With the last mote of energy that Diego had in him before his consciousness faded, he snapped the collar back on. Immediately a biting shock of cold pumped into his neck as the magicked metal did its job. The swelling in his throat eased almost immediately and air began to flow in. It was a few more moments before the inflammation in his lungs subsided, giving Diego enough control to violently heave in oxygen. He couldn’t find it in himself to move yet, but clarity began to return to his senses.  As soon as he felt capable of moving his eyes, they darted over to the clock on the wall. ’Sixty two seconds’ he thought. ‘A whole tick without the collar. A new record.’ A weary grin came to his face as his lids fell shut. For today, he was satisfied. For today, he could rest.