#zero whump

He chose not to answer. Instead, he asked a question of his own. “What do you think?”

Parvier gaped at him, his eyes wide with panic. Then he turned and bolted, racing down the dark street as fast as he could go. Eldwin watched him for a moment, before ducking down an alleyway he knew was a shortcut. He didn't need to get there first; what awaited Parvier would keep him there for some time.

The front door was already open when Eldwin got there. He sauntered inside, running his hand along the railing as he went upstairs. The smell of blood only got stronger.

“She called for you, you know.” Eldwin leaned on the side of the door frame, his arms folded. Parvier stood frozen by the bed. He didn’t make a sound.

There, lay clumsily as if she’d fallen backwards, was a woman with alabaster skin, frazzled hair and painted lips parted with the ghost of her pleas. Empty eye sockets stared at the ceiling leaking trails of blood like tears. One hand was outstretched towards an empty cot, out of her reach.

“Begged you to save her. Save your daughter. She would have made a wonderful mother; in her final moments, despite being in terrible pain, she still tried to comfort her precious girl.”

Parvier breathed heavily. A low-pitched wail tore from his throat, a sound no man should even be able to make. Then he turned and launched himself at Eldwin, who remained in the doorway and didn’t move as Parvier’s hand enclosed around his throat.

“Where is she!?” Parvier demanded, tears streaming down his red cheeks. “What did you do!?”

“Rosie, was it? Don’t worry. You’ll be seeing her soon enough.” Eldwin brought his knee into Parvier’s crotch with full force causing him to release his hold with a stream of expletives. A well-placed kick with steel-lined boots sent him crashing to the floor. Eldwin straddled his waist to pin him, earning a scream as he pierced his hand with a dagger, through his palm to the floor. With one hand he pressed a knife to his throat. Black chains sprung from thin air, coiling around Parvier’s kicking legs like snakes, painfully tight, squeezing his arms and rendering him immobile. He stifled a whine as Eldwin dug the blade in just enough to draw a trickle of crimson seeping down his neck. “Was it worth it? What did they offer you that you didn’t already have? Sanctuary? Freedom? I thought you were smarter than that.”

“I wanted a new life! Five years contract, I’d be done by the time Rosie’s in school! These people, your people, they’re all monsters, all of them! I thought-” His voice broke off into sobs. Eldwin rolled his eyes. Why he never just killed them quickly, he didn't know. “We would move away, out of the city, away from all this!”

“What a nice thought,” Eldwin said dryly, “But that doesn’t tell me why you thought you could get away with it. You were doing so well. In five years, you could have been an executive, and the world would be at your fingertips. But you’ve gone and thrown it all away.” He retraced the dagger from his neck, twirling it to get a better grip.

“I trusted you,” Parvier spat venom despite his quivering voice. “I took pity on you! No wonder you were always alone. You’re the worst of them all!"

“For what it’s worth, I had nothing against you. You brought this on yourself.” He raised the dagger, point reflected in Parvier’s terrified pupil. “Perhaps you'll be able to protect your family in your next life."

“Wait, wait wait wait, please!”

Eldwin paused. It wouldn’t hurt to indulge him for a moment. The end result would be the same.

“Rosie,” he said weakly, “Please, she's not here, where is she, you- you can grant me that at lea-”

His eyes glinted in the silver blade. Blood spurted with a curdling scream.

*+*

“You’re late.”

Eldwin dropped to one knee, fist enclosed over his his thumping heart and his head bowed.

“I’m sorry sir,” he replied automatically.

“Silence,” Clyde ordered. “I didn’t tell you to speak.”

You never do. A flash of irritation coursed through him. I’m just somehow supposed to know, and I get punished both for not speaking and for speaking out of turn. He didn’t say that, of course. Never mind the fact that he got his job done, he was late. In a world that expects nothing less than perfection, the smallest error was written down as a failure. A weakness that must be corrected.

“Well? Report.”

It was only a simple job. Frankly, well below his level. “The mission went smoothly,” Eldwin said, careful to keep his tone level. “The targets were killed, all evidence disposed of. It was an easy task; there is nothing else of note.”

“Johim Parvier?”

Yes, he knew who his targets were. “Dead.”

“The wife?”

“Also dead. Do you not trust me?”

Eldwin felt Clyde’s gaze boring into him. “The child.”

Without missing a beat, “Dead.”

Eldwin tensed as Clyde walked from behind his desk to stand directly in front of him. Cruel fingers grasped his chin, forcing his head up.

"Liar."

The sound of his skin being struck reverberated through the office. His cheek stung, and he resisted the urge to wipe away whatever trickled down his face. He breathed out slowly, determined to not make a sound.

Clyde grabbed a fistful of his hair, yanking his head back. “You didn’t do it, did you? You were too weak to do what was needed.”

“She’s not even a year old!” Eldwin snapped, anger rising within him. He wrenched himself away from Clyde’s grasp. For a long moment he met Clyde’s dull eyes, his own blazing with fury. “What is she going to do? She won’t remember any of this. Both parents are dead, both died believing she was or will be killed. Why do we need to go further?”

He doubled over as a swift kick collided with his stomach, expelling the air from his lungs. No matter how he braced, the effect was the same. A bitter taste filled his mouth with twisting nausea and for a second he thought he would throw up. As he instinctively moved to protect his abdomen another kick to his side sent him crashing inelegantly to the floor. He tried to push himself up, trying to catch some air but all he could do was curl in on himself, arms over to protect his head, knees up to his chest.

“You don’t get to make those decisions!” Clyde landed blow after blow. “You don’t get to question me, think you know better. You. Are. Mine! Your only purpose is to follow my orders!” His voice rose with every word until he was yelling, boiling rage pushing him to his limit. “What did you do with her?” Another hard kick to his ribs. “Answer me!”

“I’m not telling you,” Eldwin managed. He gasped for breath, pulling himself up on all fours. His arms trembled beneath him. Even if he did, Clyde was unlikely to actually do anything. Even he would have to admit there was no point in tracking her down now. It wasn’t about her. It was about Eldwin daring to have a mind of his own. Knowingly and purposefully disobeying his orders. The child would live, but Eldwin was not allowed to make that decision. So he would pay the price.

“Is that so?”

Predictably, Eldwin ended up on the floor again, this time on his back with Clyde’s polished boot planted on his throat. It took every ounce of his willpower to keep his hands by his head while his airways were cut off. His face burned, his lungs fought for oxygen, and he had to stay still. Ignore his body’s most primal instinct. It was easier said than done. But he was experienced.

“You take me for a fool.” Clyde pressed down harder and if his airways weren’t currently being crushed Eldwin might have let out a whimper. Fortunately, Clyde had taken care of that. “I let you have freedom, more than you deserve and mark my words, I can take it back just as easily. If you pull anything like this again, you will regret having taken me for granted, I promise you that.” He let go.

Immediately Eldwin rolled over, coughing and wheezing. He was able to get to his knees. He didn’t dare to stand. He bowed so low the ends of his hair brushed the ground. His body ached. This was only the start, he knew. It would be worse later. At least he didn’t think anything was broken.

“Get up,” Clyde hissed. Eldwin tentatively straightened, unsure if he should stand or not. The decision was made for him when he was roughly pulled up by the collar of his shirt. Clyde kept a tight hold, dragging him down the hall. The office building was mostly empty at the late hour, but there were a few stragglers they passed. Some pointedly didn’t look. Most watched them leave with disdain. It wasn’t an uncommon sight to see. Likely, they wondered why Clyde didn’t have better control over his pet project – it’s not that he couldn’t. He chose not to.

Eldwin often wondered the same thing.

The dark cell was like a second home. In some ways, he preferred it to his nice room at the manor – at least this one looked like a prison. Chains hung from the ceiling, shackles on the wall, and a cabinet with some favourite supplies stood out of reach of any of the restraints.

He wasn’t a minimalist, but he could see the appeal. The dingy, vaguely damp atmosphere had a certain charm.

Clyde shoved him to his knees in the centre. A metal collar lay on the floor, attached to a chain. Longer cuffs hung above him. His arms were pulled taut behind his back, in the cuffs hanging from the ceiling, then he leaned down as much as he could as the collar was secured around his neck. It was a position that was uncomfortable from the start, already tugging on his shoulders. It would be killer later. He had a sneaking suspicion that was probably the point.

A gag was shoved into his mouth, iron bit clinking against his teeth. The gag fitted around his face like a muzzle, with metal inside pinning his tongue so he could not speak. It was one of his least favourite instruments, more so when Clyde attached a thin chain to the back of it, stretching it to attach the other end to his wrists, pulling his head back. Any movement would disturb the gag, scraping and tearing the inside of his mouth while the cuffs around his wrists would rub deep. He had the chains on his wrist trying to keep him up, while the one attached to his collar wanted to drag him to the floor.

Next, black cloth was tied around his head, covering his eyes. Rather pointless, seeing as the room would be dark enough when the door closed, but it made Clyde feel good, and it’s not like Eldwin could say anything anyway.

“You forget your place. You don’t get to make choices, to decide who’s punished, who lives and who dies. I gave you the chance to be useful. Do you know what happens to people who are not useful? Most are killed, or sold. Slaves. Lab rats. The only way they can find some value in their miserable lives. Is that what you want?

“Never forget that my word is the only thing keeping you safe. I have been lenient, but you can only push me so far.” Clyde’s footsteps receded, and his voice was more distant, but no less firm. The loud anger was gone, replaced with a cold, underlying tone that only said danger. “Be grateful for what you’ve been given, and don’t try to be someone you’re not. Think about your actions tonight. Decide whether it was worth it. Because believe me, if this happens again there will be no more chances.”

The room shook as the heavy door slammed shut. Eldwin exhaled slowly. He twisted his wrists, ignoring the stinging pain in his mouth to try in vain for a slightly more comfortable position. The clanking of chains was the only sound to break the stuffy silence. He soon gave up. His body ached with the dull throb of forming bruises – no doubt he’d be decorated by morning. His arms were already growing numb.

Was it worth it. Another question he asked himself a lot. It was easy to say no. Every time he spoke without thinking, immediately regretting it when he saw the expression on Clyde’s face. Every broken bone, every gash through his skin. Every time he nearly suffocated in his own fear, every hard-earned lesson he would still learn to this day, over and over again until it’s drilled into his skull. Every day spent in the lab, coming out feeling nauseous and trembling, unable to get out of bed as his body refused to obey him. Every time he stumbled from someone else’s room, sick to his stomach with an encompassing hollow within, it’s your own fault-

Watching the light drain from someone’s eyes beneath his hands. The rush it gives him, and the accompanying guilt for feeling that way.

Every time he looked in the mirror, and didn’t recognise the person staring back. He would ask himself that very same question – is it worth it, while he takes off his glove and glares at the mark, the reminder of the choice he made. When thinking of that night, the night on the train tracks, he thinks about why. He thinks of bright eyes shining with admiration, the sound of children’s laughter. He remembers the quiet cries at night, from one not knowing they could be heard. The utter helplessness he felt.

Tiny fingers curling in his cloak, unaware of the world they missed.

He wouldn’t linger on that question anymore. He wasn't sure he could accept the answer.

“What is this place?” Eldwin dared to ask, although he wasn’t sure he wanted the answer. Every cell in his body urged him to turn back, to fight or flee or do whatever it took to get out of there. It was a strong instinct he was used to ignoring. Despite that he couldn’t help but be tempted. He cast a glance behind him at the elevator. Nels marched behind him, stone-faced. Eldwin stared forward again, dismissing the thought. Stupid thing would take too long anyway.

“It was a plague hospital. The whole manor is built on top of it. Most of it’s new of course, but some of the foundations are the same. The place we’re going is a recent addition.”

They stopped outside a large double door, Nels turning to face the wall opposite. He pressed some of the stones at chest height, one, then one beneath it twice, a third a little ways to the right and up, then finally the first one again. He took a step back, his hand on Eldwin’s shoulder as though he thought he would run. One by one the stones sank into the wall, sliding away to reveal another hallway, a lot shorter with only two doors closer together. As they stepped through a magical aura showered them. Eldwin looked up to see a metal bar above the doorway radiating magic. It felt like one of those cleansing doormats, only stronger.

Nels gestured to the closest door. “Go on. I’m not going in with you.”

Somehow being alone felt worse than being with any handler. Eldwin cautiously opened the door leading into a large white room with a couple of metal beds to the side. A few more doors that likely led to an office or storage space. There was what looked like an operating table with straps hanging loosely, and a black reclining chair that… had restraints. There were also various contraptions with buttons and lights. Eldwin had no hope of knowing what they were for.

His instincts that had earlier begged him now screamed at him, alarm bells ringing at full volume. He swallowed, a heavy feeling in his chest.

On one wall was a large mirror. When Eldwin caught his reflection, it seemed to stare back.

“Subject Thirteen?” An eager voice cut through his thoughts. From one of the doors emerged a small man in a lab coat. He didn’t appear particularly threatening but his appearance still put Eldwin on edge, if he could be any more so. The man was small, maybe shorter than Eldwin was, with bronze skin and dark, wavy hair brushed back by protective goggles.. He wore a medical mask that hid most of his face, but his black eyes sparkled in the bright light. He held a clipboard, and had a stethoscope curled around his neck.

What the fuck was subject thirteen? Eldwin threw a wistful look at the door that had closed behind him. Nels was likely waiting outside. It wasn't worth it.

“I’ve been so excited to meet you! I’ve been waiting for an opportunity like this for a very long time.” He certainly didn’t have the serious demeanour Eldwin expected of a doctor – that is, assuming this man was indeed a doctor. He was dressed like one. Or maybe a scientist. “Come, let us not waste any time. If everything goes smoothly, tonight we shall make history. Oh, I have full confidence of course. I assure you, you are in the best possible hands. I’ve spent my whole life preparing for this moment, everything has been meticulously planned and tested.”

“What are we doing?” Eldwin allowed himself to be led deeper into the room, hiding the tremor in his voice. He scanned the various equipment. His fingers twitched. If it came to it, could he make a break for it…?

“We need to go through some tests first, don’t worry it’s just standard procedure, and then we can begin,” the doctor/scientist/conman said cheerfully. “ Ah, I should let you know that everyone is here, so mind your manners.” His tone was placid, but Eldwin recognised the threat for what it was.

“Everyone?”

“Mhmm! Even Lord Alistair couldn’t miss this. Ha, it’ll be embarrassing if it doesn’t work… no don’t worry, it will! It will. I’ve sort of done it once before, almost, kind of, umm but it’s been through some fine-tuning, so everything will work exactly as planned. There is no other option.” The doctor cleared his throat, his gaze sheepishly falling to the floor. “Sorry. I'm getting ahead of myself. It will be fine. Can you step onto the scale for me, please?” The doctor -though Eldwin was really starting to doubt- gestured.

“You didn’t answer my first question,” Eldwin pointed out, as he begrudgingly obeyed. The Doctor hummed in response, making a note on his clipboard.

“You’d protest if you knew.”

Well that was reassuring. “Doesn’t that mean I should protest anyway?”

“Probably. You’re not going to though. Are you? You’re underweight by the way, did you know? We’ll talk about that later. Okay, you can get off.”

Eldwin scowled. This man was really going to get on his nerves. “I get the feeling I’d only make things worse.”

“That’s correct! When did you last eat?”

“This morning.” That was a lie, but he didn’t see what difference a few more hours would make. The doctor made a disapproving noise all the same.

"Well we’ll just have to make sure you eat something after. When did you last do magic?”

“Didn’t do any this week, as I was ordered.” Eldwin resisted the urge to roll his eyes.

"Any allergies, medication? Drugs or alcohol?”

“No, no, no, not for a few days. Do you have a name?” Or a title, or something.

“Oh! I’m sorry. You can just call me Jowan, no need for all the formalities. All right, I just need to check your heart rate and blood pressure. But before I forget, are you binding right now?”

“What?” Eldwin said a bit too loudly. He folded his arms protectively. He supposed it made sense Jowan would know but still, he didn't appreciate it being brought up.

“I’m afraid you’ll need to take it off. It’s too risky to have anything that might hinder your breathing.”

“Why!? What are we doing?” Then- “Here? Now?”

“Afraid so. I’ll turn around to make you more comfortable, so please don’t stab me or anything okay?” Jowan spun on his heel, politely facing the wall.

“The fuck is wrong with you?” Eldwin made sure to turn away from the mirror. He felt the heat rush to his cheeks as he clumsily unbuttoned his waistcoat, tossing it the floor with seemingly nowhere to put it. Losing the extra fabric made it easier to reach up under his shirt without having to remove it. He fumbled around for the end of the bandages. He undid them, awkwardly unwrapping them from his chest. It was stupid to be embarrassed. It wasn’t like anyone here didn’t already know, or that no one had seen him exposed before while at least now he kept his clothes. Still, his face flushed as he turned back around, his arms stiffly crossed over his chest. “I’m done.”

“Excellent! Come, sit down over here, I’ll check your vitals. I want a blood sample too.”

Oh good, one of the… half-bed-half-chair things with numerous restraints. Thick, sturdy leather straps perfect for pinning down poor obedient mages. With presumably near every person he hated watching through that sneaky two-way mirror, he did as he was told. The blood sample was easy. He’s suffered far worse than an empty needle.

“Temperature’s fine. Heart rate and blood pressure are a little high… Are you perhaps feeling anxious?” Jowan inquired, making yet more notes.

“Do you always find something to criticise?” Eldwin pointedly ignored his question. Are you feeling anxious… Oh no sir, I love nothing more than being taken into a strange laboratory where no one tells me what’s going on and my health is in the hands of a ten year old with a sugar rush.

Jowan blinked at him, his eyes comically wide. His mouth was probably hanging open behind his mask. “It’s not a criticism… that’s just how it is…” He trailed off. Eldwin could picture Clyde facepalming in the next room. Good.

“Whatever.”

Jowan looked like he didn’t know how to continue. His brows furrowed, and he shook his head. “Well, anyway,” he tried, his obnoxious voice forcibly jovial, “Let’s move on shall we? Lie back for me.”

Eldwin hesitated. Amidst his irritation his fear grew in the background. His stomach twisted and it felt like someone was crushing his chest. Slowly, he swung his heavy legs up to settle back in the chair. He could hear the rapid thud-thud-thud of his own heartbeat. Maybe if he could be a little more scared he’d just have a heart attack and he could avoid all this. Knowing his luck though, they’d still bring him back and try again.

One by one the leather straps were pulled across him, across his arms, his legs, his chest. He tugged at them when Jowan wasn’t looking. They wouldn’t budge.

It was getting warm, all of a sudden. Hadn’t he been cold earlier? The lights were so bright.

Jowan fell silent while he carefully measured out needles, filled with a variety of substances. Two clear liquids, one blue. They stung as they entered his bloodstream, and his aether tingled uncomfortably. It wanted to be used, itched to break free. He couldn’t though. He wasn’t allowed to do magic. Various wires were attached to him from the machines, like a control panel. He clenched his trembling fists, his lips pressed in a thin line. He couldn’t do this. Whatever they were doing, he didn’t want it, he didn’t want it, he needed to get out, he couldn’t breathe, all the air had been squeezed from his lungs and all he could hear was a fervent THUD-THUD-THUD, it was so bright and his chest hurt and his vision blurred, he couldn’t breathe, he had to get he had to get out-

“Now now, none of that,” Jowan gently chided. “Deep breaths, slowly, you can do it.”

Cool fingers lightly tapped his face to get his attention. Eldwin’s wide eyes snapped to him. The lights had been dimmed, he noticed. Jowan hovered nervously beside him, but he relaxed when Eldwin’s gaze met his own. “That’s it, breathe with me. Count to five. In, and hold,” he deliberately breathed in slowly, deeply, watching Eldwin intently. Eldwin followed his lead, forcing himself to slow down. One, two, three, four, five. “And out.” Jowan exhaled just as deliberately. Eldwin followed suit. He had to admit it was grounding, even though his anxiety didn’t lessen. He repeated the exercise a few more times on his own, still shaky, but easier this time.

“Good job!” Jowan praised, as if breathing properly was a worthy achievement. “I’m sorry, this all must be very overwhelming. I get too caught up in work. I should have been paying more attention to how you feel.”

Eldwin should feel put out at being treated like a child. He found at that moment he was too worn down to care.

“I want to go home,” he said pathetically. His voice cracked. “Please, I can’t do this, I- I don’t know what’s happening, I don’t want this, please.”

Something flashed in Jowan’s eyes, gone as quick as it came. “I know it’s scary but I promise you, everything will be all right. You have my word. What we are doing here is special. You will be a part of something great, something that will change lives. Wouldn’t it be nice to do some good for a change?”

Eldwin opened his mouth to argue, plead some more, whichever would come out first. He closed it again without a word. The back of his hand seemed to burn.

Jowan seemed to realise he was winning – not that there was any other outcome. “All you need to do is relax. You don’t need to think about anything. Isn’t thinking so tiring? And fighting is so pointless. Let yourself give up. Lie back, relax, and let me do my job. You don’t need to worry about a thing.”

Eldwin begged to differ. He didn’t think he could stop worrying no matter how hard he tried. He shifted uncomfortably, staring up at the white ceiling with dimmed lights. His throat was dry.

His silence was taken for acceptance. Perhaps that’s what it was. He didn’t protest when Jowan checked everything over one more time. He allowed him to tie a bit between his teeth. He tried desperately not to think about why.

“We’re good to go,” Jowan announced at last. He threw one last glance towards Eldwin. “Try to stay calm, okay? I’ll only be in the next room.” He pressed a button on one of the devices, and hurried from the room. Watching from behind the mirror, no doubt.

The machines whirred to life with a deafening humming noise.

He wanted to leave. He had to leave, he had to get away. He wanted to go home, wherever that was.

Since when has what you wanted ever mattered?

It was getting warm. It wasn’t panic or humiliation this time, no, an intense heat coursed through his body as his aether battled to break free, begging him for release. Begging him to do something. It’s not that it wanted to be used, it wanted to avoid what was happening.

His lungs tightened again. His mind raced. This wasn’t right, something was wrong, this was wrong. He pulled frantically at the straps holding him down, he twisted and tugged to no avail. He froze. For a moment it was as though time had stopped. A beat passed.

Then, he burned.

His blood was on fire. Searing agony spread through his veins and he screamed, muffled slightly by the bit the reason for which was very apparent, his teeth dug into the firm leather and he thrashed against his restraints, his vision blurred. His face grew wet and it burned, aether forcibly torn from his body in a way that was never supposed to happen. Too hot, too bright, too loud, with the sound of the machines and a THUDTHUDTHUD drowned out by a high-pitched screech in his ears, he wanted to sob, it was all too much, it burned it burned it burned-

“I can’t do it! I can’t, make it stop, please!” His back hit the wall. Emerald flames raged above him, surrounded him, radiating intense heat that burned even though it didn’t touch. Streams of tears ran down his face, his cries unheard. They loomed over him with a roar, hungry for his screams. They hate him. They will not be caged, they cannot be controlled, and they are furious with him for trying. He begged, pleaded, he tried to tame them, bargain with them, tried with all his might while they ravaged his skin, blazed through flesh, through bone, with no help no found, no mercy no mercy, as his body is reduced to ash…

***

“Time… tell…”

“...temperature…”

Voices weaved in and out of perception. They sounded so far away. He opened his eyes – at least he thought he did. Everything was dark. He could vaguely make out some blurred movement. A whine escaped his throat as he was poked and prodded, the slight sting of a needle piercing his skin. He wanted to push them away but his limbs were so heavy, weighed down with lead. Maybe they weren’t connected to him at all.

His face was relieved of pressure when something was pried from his mouth. More voices chattered beside him. He strained to catch their whispers but it felt like listening through a cloud, a thick fog enshrouded his mind making it impossible to discern between garbled words. That’s okay. He didn’t really have the energy to think. His head lolled forward, someone guiding him to sit up straight. It was cold, he realised. So, so cold, and these hands on him were so warm. He leaned into their touch. Fingers pressed to his neck. Something bright flashed in his eyes and he whined again, trying to pull away but someone held him in place.

“Not unexpected…”

“...success…”

He groaned, letting the words fade out. It hurt even to pay attention. Like someone was hammering into his skull. His whole body ached with a deep-rooted chill in his bones.

Another hand slid under his knees, lifting him up only to put him in another chair, more straps tying him down. He should protest, probably, but that was so much effort. His eyes fluttered closed, accepting sleeps sweet embrace.

***

Dark leaves crunched beneath his boots, leaving their trunks bare to rot. It’s familiar, in a way he cannot place. It left him yearning, craving for more. He trudged deeper into the woods, grey grass giving way to dry, cracked mud.

Someone coaxed him to drink. Warm liquid slid down his parched throat, tasteless but soothing when every swallow was accompanied with a sharp pain. A low voice mumbled incoherently at his side. They should speak clearer. He couldn’t understand what they were saying. He tried to tell them so, but he couldn’t seem to form the words. It was so cold. Was it always so cold?

His watched his breath freeze in the air. He must have wandered for hours yet nothing changed. The land was barren, home to naught but but decay, Death had claimed this forest her own. No man, animal, or even plant was able to survive her onslaught.

He thought he saw a figure, a mere glimpse of a ghost that disappeared if he looked for too long. He never seemed to get closer. Neither could he get further away.

“Shit, you said he’d be fine!”

“I also said recovery would take time. It hasn’t even been a full day, have some patience.”

“Will it be like this every time?”

“It’s hard to say for certain. Some level of fatigue and delirium is to be expected, standard procedure you know, comes with the territory, but- but I’m hopeful the severity will tone down if his body gets used to it…”

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” A familiar voice broke the eerie silence. Smooth, like silk.

He whipped around, scanning the horizon with no one to be seen. Something brushed against his shoulder making him start. A quiet laugh rang through the air, oddly distant yet at the same time all around.

It wasn’t a pleasant sound.

“Who are you?” He asked boldly despite his trembling. It was the cold, he told himself. It was so cold.

“You know me. Not as well as I know you.” He did feel drawn to them. He couldn’t think why though. He should know why. He noticed then the mist that enveloped the trees, a blanket covering the dead. Had it been there the whole time?

“What is this place? Why am I here?”

If he didn’t know better, he’d say the forest grinned. He never got his answer for the woodland faded, succumbing to darkness once more.

***

He awoke in a room that was not his own. There was a double bed, for one, with a firm mattress that didn’t creak or sink. Soft pillows surrounded him with a sweet floral scent. Tall windows let the sun stream through behind elegant curtains highlighting towering bookshelves. There was also a wooden wardrobe and dresser, intricately carved. It was a room he’d seen many a time in the homes of nobles, but he’d never used one himself. It wasn’t his place. Shit, he shouldn't be in here.

He scrambled to his feet, wincing at a pulsating pain drumming through his skull. He staggered, using the bed frame for support so he didn’t collapse. He pressed a hand to his forehead, biting back a groan. Was he sick? His legs felt like they’d give way under him any moment, muscles twitching. His stomach lurched and he clapped a hand to his mouth, swallowing bile. Gods, he hasn’t felt this awful in a long time. And he was freezing. It was summer, at least that’s what he thought…

Dubiously he eyed the distance between the bed and what was presumably the exit. He didn't fully trust he wouldn't collapse. Before he could make a decision the door opened to reveal a young girl, maybe not even out of her teens in a maids uniform and a shimmering, see-through mask. She carried a tray with a bowl of water and a cloth. Her eyes widened, fumbling to not drop the tray. “Ah, you’re up! That’s…” She cut herself off, “Please wait. I’ll go inform the Masters.” She scurried out of the room, returning in less than a minute later with Alistair in tow, Clyde at his side. Both wore the same clear mask. They were magic, presumably, although he couldn’t detect a trace.

Fuck, this was his first time actually meeting Alistair. He must look awful. He wanted to greet them properly, to apologise for his state, but he couldn’t get his brain to work. Instead he just stared at them, awkwardly, like he’d been caught doing something he shouldn’t. He clung tightly onto the bed frame.

It was Alistair who first spoke. “It’s good to see you awake.” His voice was softer than Eldwin had expected. “How do you feel?”

“Um,” Like shit, sir, wasn’t exactly an appropriate thing to say to one of the most powerful men in the country. “I’ve been better, sir.” He settled for, dropping his gaze. Blatantly lying would do him no favours. “If I may ask… what happened?” He didn’t remember being sick.

“No doubt you have many questions. All will be answered in due time. For now you need to rest. You’ve been through quite the ordeal. We thought it best to move you into the main house to better keep an eye on you. Consider this room yours. The staff will assist you, so don’t push yourself to do anything. The doctor will stop by later. He will want to talk to you so you should sleep now. I’ll have fresh warming bottles sent up.”

“I… thank you sir.” He still reeled with confusion, but warmth and sleep was an opportunity he wouldn’t pass up. Even now, he was finding it increasingly more difficult to keep his eyes focused. The floor seemed to sway.

He didn’t need to look to sense that Clyde glaring daggers at him, which was as confusing as it was concerning. What had he done to upset Clyde this time? He couldn’t remember doing anything wrong, and Alistair seemed pleased…

“Eldwin?”

He flinched. He only ever heard his name when they were really mad at him. Keeping his eyes fixed on the ground, he answered, “Yes, sir?”

“You did well.”

His breath hitched. The gears of his mind stopped turning as he ran through those words in his head. You did well. Had he heard that right? Was this still some weird fever dream? When was the last time someone told him he’d done well? Not since his early training days, surely. Now ‘doing well’ was expected of him, nothing to be praised for.

Was he taking too long? He was probably taking too long.

“Thank you sir.” His tone wavered only slightly. Exactly what he’d done well he didn’t know, but hey, he’d take it. He didn’t look up until everyone had left, Alistair murmuring orders to the maid as the door closed with a gentle click.

Exhaustion slammed into him. That short interaction had taken a lot of effort, apparently more than he thought. He allowed himself to fall back into the bed, immediately sinking into the warm blankets. To say he ached would be an understatement. It felt like his body was protesting the very idea of being alive.

He racked his brains for any idea that might give him insight. Everything was a such a daze. He should have asked what day it was. He was at a complete blank. His aether flickered weakly, like a dying flame. He should be worried. But thinking was so much work. His eyes drifted closed, sleeps allure already drawing him in. He’d get his answers in due time.