Wisps of the past

Chapter 10, Silver hair of fate

   Whispers were the first thing Draven noticed. Nausea quickly followed, backed up by a splitting headache, fatigue, and dizziness. Ugh, I'm not sick, again, am I? He took a few deep breaths, just like his dad had taught him if Gisela was being mean.

   Focus on something else. Direct your attention. Smells. Touch. Sight. Hearing. Taste. He counted them off in his head, feeling as though he was thinking in a cloud of sticky spider webs.

   He felt the comfort of a bed, and the feeling of freshness like he just took a bath. He could smell something that he could quite narrow down... Pine? A sweet earthy scent of a forest filled his nostrils. With no small effort, he fluttered his heavy eyelids open.. But the whispers started to get louder. He shut his eyes again, in fear that his awakening would be noticed. Draven didn't know what was going on, but maybe he could figure it out. The headache slowly receded, and the nausea faded to a bearable point.

   Inhale for four seconds. Hold it for four seconds, then slowly exhale. That was the timing for people's breathing when they were usually asleep. Of course, in children, it was usually faster, since their lungs took in more oxygen, and they tended to breathe faster. The problem was - he didn't know how fast. Hopefully the people wouldn't notice.

   "Shouldn't they be awake by now? We didn't expose them to that much chloroform." A male voice said, as the heavy footsteps echoed ever so slightly around the room.

   "Maybe it's just exhaustion. They have been through a lot in these past few days." A female voice sounded, directly above Draven's head. A warm, damp cloth touched him on his forehead, as the man, also right above him, spoke.

   "Could you use an antidote to wake them up? We still need to do...well, everything."

   "I wouldn't want to wake them up just yet. I'll come in to check on them in an hour. If they're not up by then, I will wake them up."

   With that, the man and woman's footsteps sounded, and he heard them grow fainter and fainter, until he could hear them no longer. After he was sure they were gone, Draven opened his eyes, hissing quietly in pain at the glaring lights. After a second, his eyes adjusted, and he took in his surroundings.

   He was in a room that reminded him of a fancy cabin that he had seen in advertisements on Vrbo, or TripAdviser. The walls and floor were smooth wood pine, sanded down to perfection. The bed frame was also made out of wood, stained a deep brown, perhaps cherry? The walls were also beautifully sanded, constructed with lightly stained Eucalyptus. The ceiling rose in a neat arch, reminding him of pictures he'd seen of the Sistine Chapel. Only, it was made of wood. There were even faint carvings speckling the ceiling. There were two doors, one on the left wall, and one right in front of him. There was a bucket filled with water on the nightstand beside his bed. It was obvious that the cloth had been dipped in there, before being put on his head.

   Another bucket right sat proudly next to his bed, near the foot of it. On the other side of the room, there was a dresser, with a set of clothes. They seemed to be his size.

   They want to dress me up in those things? They look like they came out of a fancy medieval fairytale. He sighed, knowing that Asurli and Rio would also despise the style of clothes, just as he is. Rio just liked wearing something comfy, blue, and had an image or symbol from one of her books she liked.

   Asuli had mentioned to him before that she liked wearing jeans. Either jeans with a T-shirt, or a dress that went a few feet below her knees. And they had to have good pockets. She ranted often about the injustice of girl's clothing, and the lack of pockets. 'We girls carry stuff around, too! Where would I put my pencils? What about my knives?'