There is a lot about me you don't know -Tales of Arcadia ENG

8- Chaos

TRACK 8

Stop there and peer inside of me

You'll find a man once lost at sea

But all the while I would think to myself

It's not the end, it's not the end at all

So sick of nothing going right

(Kill the Lights - Set it off )

********

Douxie had not known exactly what had happened, to be honest. Not at first, at least. It had all gone by so quickly that he couldn't know.

The interaction with Sir Galahad, before he resumed wandering the corridors, had been the last event he remembered more or less accurately. There had then been a clean break regarding anything that had surrounded him next.

Total darkness followed. The kind that told him he was awake but unable to do even the smallest of things. A paralysis that had frozen the blood in his veins, feeling as if the chains were still in close contact with his skin... only to find himself seeing again, thankfully, but with his head spinning and throbbing.

For a moment he had wondered if he had changed his mind. If he had chosen to accept the alcohol offered by the Knight. But he had not felt the familiar feeling of disgust that planted itself in his stomach after drinking until he was almost sick, all the while floating objects -once even himself. As he had done with a fever almost three times in a row, fortunately without trying to leave his apartment on any of the occasions- right and left. Because being drunk made everything far too blurry for him, even the difference between himself and his emotions.

But still, despite the pain in his head and the urge to turn everything off somehow, he had been able to look at what was around him and realize that he was slumped in a corner, always unable to move except for very slight shifts of his head. Of Sir Galahad, well, not even a shadow.

Then he saw figures. Various ones. One of whom had started to approach him, murmuring words he had not understood. Or perhaps it had spoken normally, but his mind had refused to cooperate and thus connect the sounds with the meaning they had.

The pain followed almost immediately. Fingers -and long nails- had started to pull at his hair, forcing him to raise his head almost unnaturally that he felt his neck ache.

Then he had visualized two grey eyes watching him with silent disgust. And a chill had run entirely down his spine, leaving him to swallow hard and try to formulate a word... or even the beginning of one. His mouth, however, was too dry, too much kneaded with paralysis.

' Nemain. ' Whispered his brain, however, as large amounts of alarm went raging through his chest like a storm.

The image of the girl, her platinum blond hair tied in a braid, dressed in servants' clothes and looking generally down -if not in the presence of Morgana- flashed through his thoughts a couple of times, in several different sequences: When she had arrived in Camelot. When he had glimpsed her near Morgana, practicing magic. When she had left, as he had done the same, with the rising of Camelot.

She had only been there for a couple of months, but long enough to show all her admiration and affection in comparison with the Queen of the Apocalypse.

She had never particularly liked Douxie, he knew that -not a novelty in that place. Who did it there, especially at that time? Not too many- but he had never seen her despise him so much as the last time they had seen each other. Yet the look of the past had been nothing compared to the way she looked at him there, holding him by the hair.