The Dare of Truth [slash]

Chapter 19

Fyn awoke under the sterile lights of a hospital room. His leg still hurt a bit, but aside from that he felt okay – at least physically. A lashran healing trance was a convenient thing, but it didn't help with matters concerning heart and soul.

The lifebearer took a deep breath as he stared up at the ceiling.

Sylair Holden was dead.

Fyn tried not to think about this, but he couldn't stop the memories. It was partly his fault that the lifebearer had died, he knew that. But that wasn't the worst thing. What really horrified him was the strange understanding he had for all the horrible things Sylair had done. They had had a lot in common – much more than he would have liked. All that desperate fighting of a keen mind to be respected, to be accepted for what he was... maybe Sylair had been insane from the beginning, but maybe his endeavor had driven him over the edge.

Fyn could be some day where Sylair had been. Maybe not tomorrow or next year, but in ten or a hundred years...

A knock on the door pulled the journalist out of his dark thoughts. It was a female doctor with a gentle face. Her tag read "Dr. Allen".

"How are you feeling, Mr. Sheldon?" the doctor asked as she checked the wound on his leg. "We'd like to keep you here for another day, but you seem to be healing very well. We just want to make sure there were no old scar tissues disrupted that could trouble you later."

"I'm feeling okay," Fyn answered. "But I'd like to know about Mr. Solir. Is he awake yet? And what about the man I shot? And the baby?"

Dr. Allen smiled. "Actually, they are all fine. Mr. Solir regained consciousness two hours ago, but he isn't allowed to get up yet. Mr. Vale Gordon survived surgery and fell into a healing trance. He's under heavy guard from the Alliance. And tiny as she might be, the baby is actually the healthiest. She's downstairs in our children's ward for the moment."

Fyn sighed in relief. "That's wonderful news. I guess the Alliance wants to talk to me as soon as possible?"

"Agent Warren and Agent Talbot are down the hall, talking with your family. If you promise to stay put, I'll send them in."

"I promise. But my family first. The agents can wait." Fyn propped himself up on his cushions. "Oh, and Doctor, there is something else: could you do another check-up on me while I'm here? I might have Lyzerol-C poisoning, and I want to be sure about any... permanent consequences."

Dr. Allen's friendly face went serious. "I'll tell my colleagues from the lifebearer health department. Don't worry, Mr. Sheldon, we'll get things cleared up for you. I'll send your visitors in now."

A few moments later, Sheldon, Cerise, Kalish, and Othric came in. Cerise and Kalish practically jumped on the bed to hug Fyn and wouldn't be moved under any circumstances. Although Sheldon and Othric both chose a more reserved small hug and kiss on the cheek, it was clear that they had been equally worried.

"I'm sorry," was the first thing Fyn said, addressing all of them. "I didn't want you to worry, and I didn't want you to be put in danger because of me. All I thought about was getting what I wanted, namely catching the one responsible for the whole thing." Then he looked up at Othric. "And I'm so sorry about Sylair. I should have found another way."