Lionhearts ||Skephalo||

73

CW: light mentions of eye injury!

-

The world was throbbing like a heartbeat. Perhaps it was a heartbeat, George dazedly considers, the world has a heart.

And he wakes up.

Or he was...sure he'd woken up. But no matter how he tries, the world remains dark—and not in a lightless way. The world just isn't there. He swallows heavily, feeling aches and pains in his body begin to react to his wakeful state.

And his eyes hurt. They aren't screaming with agony, like they were last he remembers, but they itch and ache and he wants to rub them under the...

The bandages. He shudders, thinking of his last memory—an intense pain in his eyes and neck before the world went dark and refused to change back. He whimpers in pain, and slowly sits up from what feels like a bed.

"You're conscious," a soft, surprised, voice says from somewhere to his side. "I thought you'd be resting longer." A young woman, he'd guess from how they speak and the pitch of their voice. He coughs weakly.

"Yeah," he manages, in hesitant bursts, "I think, I am." The speaker waits for him, checking he has no more to say before continuing.

"My name is Isku. You're in the infirmary with me, at least until the others get back." George straightens up at that, letting out a whine at the sensation of something tugging not quite taut in his neck.

"They left?" He asks urgently, and then, "...wait, infirmary?"

"You're in the infirmary," Isku repeats, "In the fortress. Your companions and myr Techno left a while ago to journey to their destination."

They left without me. The realization is bitter, but he knows there's got to be more.

"...why is it so dark in here?" He asks, and a giggle comes from somewhere in front of him. Isku's next words are strange grumbles and huffs that sound scolding, and a higher voice whines something back before the pattering of footsteps indicates they went away.

"...Do you remember what happened to you?" Isku avoids, and George nods, tentatively.

"I remember my skin itching something awful," he ponders, "And—the world went red. I think. Something similar to red. And now it's dark."

"...Can you feel your eyes?" She says softly, and that's when George realizes that the itching is less on his eyes like it would normally be, but rather inside what should be his eyesocket.

"...What happened to me?" He asks her, nervous, reluctant, but desperate to know.

"You were blinded in the fight, by parasite," she replies gently, "Are you holding up alright? I know that it's shocking to adjust to losing your vision so abruptly."

George would've thought he'd be devastated to lose what sight he had. Perhaps it's a delayed reaction, repression, or some strange concoction of both and more—but he doesn't feel much of anything except a faint sense of dismay.

"...I'm holding up," he finally retorts after a few moments, "So, they let humans stay at the infirmary? How'd you end up here?"

Isku's laughter is a soft chuffing, and it's what gives George's mistake away.

"I'm not a human," she gently tells him, "I'm a piglin. A brute, in fact. I ended up in here after that demon began to break free of that boy's body, and I, like my fellows, were caught in its fire. My legs were practically split in two, and I was blinded."

George tilts his head, feeling his lids bat over almost empty sockets as he blinks.

Muscle memory. He doesn't really need to do that, he supposes. But not blinking feels wrong to his muscles.