Draconia Offline vol. 1

67.3. I Bless Thee - Part 3

Thirst wakes me up and it's not a pleasant coming back to reality because my migraine is at its worst. I find myself lying on my huge bed, changed into a night robe and my wings spread comfortably on one side behind my back. The room is dimmed and the curtain around the bed is closed.

But privacy is only illusionary, I feel Liana, Gotrid and the others just behind the door. To my annoyance, I feel the guards inside the bedroom. They aren't normally supposed to be inside, this space is for me and my partners only.

"Drink, honey," Erik is with me, of course, and gently lifts me up. "I know you can't eat anything right now, it's just water."

He puts the glass to my lips and I gobble it down. I feel weak and nauseous. Even dim light and slight noise are hurting my brain. Erik carefully puts me down, snuggles to me and starts caressing my wings.

"It's going to be okay, rest," he tells me softly. "Liana is doing what she can and Gotrid is helping her. In situations like these, it's good to have two husbands, isn't it?"

I want to say something but I'm too drowsy to think properly. I give in to sleep, escaping into dreams in which there's no pain and worries.

*****

When I wake up again, both Erik and Gotrid are with me. My migraine got a bit better, mitigating sensory stimuli always helps the most. What would help even more, though, is not feeling panic across the whole skyscraper as the Celestials are freaking out. Well, in this case, maybe they should, I think bitterly.

"Can we get you seated?" Erik asks while Gotrid hastily piles up all the pillows.

I nod and let them push me upright. My head spins but my wings are quite comfortable leaning against the soft pillows. At the very least I don't feel like throwing up again.

"We're supposed to try to feed you this," Gotrid says slowly in order not to startle me. He knows my relationship with food deteriorates rapidly every time I don't feel well.

"It's just apple puree, not one of those protein drinks," Erik assures me. "I tried it for you and it's yummy."

"I can try," I say weakly. I don't have any appetite but I feel my body desperately needs some calories.

Erik and Gotrid take turns feeding me and they're very patient with the spoon. It's just one small bowl but it takes me at least fifteen minutes to empty it. But I managed which is an achievement.

"Do you feel like talking about what happened?" Gotrid clutches my hand. "Zetraya is worried you might be traumatised."

"I...," I want to oppose to that but my voice fails me. I'm not able to deny it. I don't know yet.

"That's okay, take your time," Erik kisses me on my forehead. "Liana is working on making sure it won't happen again."

"By prohibiting me to enter public spaces ever again?" I comment sarcastically but I don't have the energy to get angry about it. "I bet she thinks it was stupid of me to visit the cafeteria."

"She doesn't think that," Gotrid shakes his head. "Nobody blames you, the guards were tragically unprepared."

"It wasn't their fault either," I frown. "Tell Liana not to be hard on them."

"She knows that," Erik nods. "Well, it's not like anyone could anticipate you would just casually start giving blessings. Of course, Celestials would go crazy for something like that."

"I didn't start giving blessings," I set the record straight.

"You kind of did, though?" Gotrid says softly. "We interrogated those three who received it and they describe it as exactly that. They said it was amazing."

"Amazing doesn't make it a blessing," I insist. "I make you two feel amazing all the time. It's just telepathy and a tiny bit of my mana."

"Technically? Sure," Gotrid shrugs. "Still, in the end, it's all about how it's perceived. Forget human religions. From the Celestial point of view, the Emperor doing something like that can be categorised as giving a blessing."

I whine when a sudden thrust of pain surges around my temples. I'm far from being recovered from my migraine and thinking about the consequences just makes it worse. Gotrid and Erik put me down again and let me rest while gently caressing my wings.

I know that assumptions made during a severe migraine aren't objective but I can't help not feeling despair. The skyscraper suddenly feels like a golden cage with my subjects acting as my wardens.