Heirs of the Gods

Ch 52: Sign of the times

The inevitable day had come.

The button-tufted armchair beneath Ella was ample and soft, but it might as well have been made of pins and needles, with how much she squirmed and restlessly twisted her fingers against the armrests.

She tried to avert her senses to focus on her surroundings; the herbal scent wafting from the pots laid out on the night table by her left, the light drifting in through the drawn cream curtains, Sulimona's mumbled fussing as she pottered around the room. It was all the same. Her attention was inevitably drawn to the figure in front of her.

Clean, light blue nightshirt, hands limp by his sides, features placid and even. Grayson. Nestled on top of a comfortable bed in one of the many guest rooms of the palace.

He looked healthy now. Pale, due to the lack of sunlight, but healthy. Sulimona had mended his broken bones, even his nose, which now bore just the lightest scar on the bridge. Ella thought it might not be visible when the summer came and the smattering of freckles on his nose intensified.

It had been over two months since that fateful day at Blackwell manor. Two months since he'd last opened his eyes.

Ella knew she had to explain many things to him. He deserved to know where he was, how he'd gotten there, what had become of their world in the past months. It wasn't an easy feat. Life as Grayson knew it was over. Had it ever been real to begin with?

Ella would have died for her brother, she knew as much. She also knew their relationship had been strained as of the last years. As much as she loved him, they never saw eye to eye. Their natures were much too different. And now, she had to be the bearer of ill news. The embodiment of everything he'd once stood against.

A living, breathing sign of the times.

She exhaled roughly, clenching her fingers so tightly her knuckles turned bone-white.

"Calm down, child." Sulimona chided her as she bustled around the room. "It will all turn out fine. Do you hear me? No use in worrying about that now. Be brave, dear." Her tone was firm but much kinder as she patted Ella's stiff shoulders, who only nodded in reply.

Sulimona stood in front of the bed next to Ella and crackled her knuckles, frown deepening as she began to mutter and wave her small, wrinkly hands.

Ella watched in rapt attention as the air around Grayson began to crackle. A slight wavering in the air, the smallest of static noises, the tangy scent of magic.

Sulimona waved her hands once again and with the slightest of snaps, Grayson stirred.

It was the barest of movements. Fluttering eyelashes and the deepening of his breath. The twitch of his fingers against the thick comforter. It was still enough for Ella to practically leap out of her chair.

"That should do it," she said, wringing her hands and dusting them off on her apron. "Give him that potion by the night table once he wakes up fully. I shall be in the infirmary on hand if he should need anything more. Good luck, sprite." She warmly patted her hand and left Ella alone.

I can do this, she reassured herself, taking a deep breath and wiping her clammy hands on her dress. This was Grayson, her little brother. No matter how upset he became, they would be able to work through it. They always had.

And so, Ella willed herself to hold still, fighting back her unease as she watched Grayson come out of the haze of the charm. He took his time waking up, groaning as he did so. His serene features morphed into a slight frown as he stretched shaky limbs.

His eyes squinted and crinkled as he came to, immediately rubbing a hand over them on pure instinct. He mumbled something unintelligible, and Ella kept still despite the overwhelming impulse to rush over to him. She knew he needed to take in his surroundings and get his bearings about himself before she crowded him.