Several Healers were fussing over a small, writhing lump on one of the beds that she took to be M'iki. His mother--Eilie, she remembered--was crying silently off to the side, while his father, Mousse, was looking decisively grim. She could hear them talking quietly, but couldn't make out what they were saying... something about a "True Rune."
The Healers finally left, and only one stayed. He said something to M'iki's parents, and Eilie finally burst into tears. The Healer shook his head and walked away, but not before Kylia grabbed his arm. "What's... going to happen?" she asked, her voice slightly cracking.
The Healer sighed and ran his hands through his hair. "He's not going to make it. I don't know how in Faranth he made it this far, but a wound like that'd kill a normal person." He shrugged and walked out of the room, but Kylia could see he was actually deeply concerned.
Her eyes, brimming with tears, searched around until she realized that crying wouldn't do anything to help Eilie. At least she should be there for his parents if he...
She shook her head, walked up, and asked if she could talk to him.
Something cold was on his chest. His subconscious duly registered that note, determined to supply him with uncomfortable news. People were crying. Talking loudly, too. Too loud. He was so tired. But little voices were shrieking in his head, little, faint, tiny voices, pleading with him not to leave them. So he stayed. They wouldn't let him close his eyes.
Someone was crying loudly. His mother? It was her voice. He blinked; everything was blurry. Where was his father? He couldn't see. Mer and Farlie were moaning softly. He could barely hear them. What was going on?
Someone was talking now; the crying was faint. She seemed calm at first, but gradually grew frantic. He couldn't make out what she was saying. Something touched him. It was cold. Not as cold as the sword. But still cold.
He looked up. And blinked. Kylia was there, and she was crying. He tried to smile but coughed instead. "Kylia, please don't cry," he said. His voice sounded distant, and pained, and funny even to himself. "I'm fine..." he coughed again.
She tried to say something and made little mewling noises instead, holding her face with her hands. He wanted to comfort her. But he could barely even look at her. She said something but he missed it. "Talk louder, please. I can't hear you... shells, I can't see you anymore. Everything's black... and..." He closed his eyes. It was worthless. He was so tired.......
Click here for page 7, and to see who Impressed from Lorith's clutch
