Syrilth; A Dei Realm Tale

Chapter Eight

Despite the Boswellia dissolving beneath my tongue, the steady rocking of the horse aggravated the quiet ache in my ribs to a roar. Sweat trickled down my temple as I grimaced, leaving behind the sensation of ice as the moisture cooled under winter's touch. The cold was at odds with the heat that had crept into my body during our fourth day of traveling.

"We're almost there," Injros reassured me as I slumped against him, unable to maintain the strength to remain upright. My training needled me to correct my posture, so I didn't worsen the condition of my broken bones. My body argued that it was impossible to do so, the feeble amount of energy that remained going into simply keeping my eyes open. The bag with my herbs and tools had been lost to the shadows, the Boswellia a lucky find in one of the pockets of the men that remained. "We just need to get through the last half of the day and we'll be there," Injros' voice slipped through the fog of fever, tethering me to consciousness as it had these past few days.

A mumble of unintelligible nonsense left me when I tried to respond, delirium jumbling my thoughts and making my tongue heavy. In some distant part of my brain, alarm grew. Time was not on our side, the threat to my body and the child I carried, looming ever closer. Labored breaths rattled my lungs, my own mortality staring back at me as the world grew dim. A fool, I cursed myself, tears falling as my eyes closed.

Hurried hands woke me sometime later, blurry faces appearing and disappearing. I tried to ask where I was, tried to instruct what I needed, but the words drifted by me with my consciousness. Panicked voices being silenced by stern tones pulled me back to awareness. Help, I said as I blindly turned to where they came from, help my child. A hand laid on my forehead, blissful relief against the heat that licked my skin.

"Ssh, I need to take care of you now, go back to sleep," a woman's husky murmur sent me back to the darkness.

~~~

Flames crackled and popped as I drifted, my fingers curling into the thick fabric they felt beneath them. "You need to go back to sleep so my magic can do it's work," came the quiet words, spoken in a manner that left no room for arguments. My fingers clutched the fabric tighter as I still fought to wake, demanding questions pushing me past the exhaustion that clawed at me. The cool hand from before gently relaxed my grip, brushing my fluttering eyelids as if to keep them shut. "No Syrilth," she whispered, "not yet. Your child needs you to rest."

Her words, the hesitant confirmation that the soul I carried was alright, allowed me to relax into the hum that urged me back to slumber, a sigh passing my lips as I drifted once more.

~~~

"Wake up." Whispered into my ear, the voice so tiny it could only be a mere figment of my imagination. "Wake up." I stirred, reluctant to leave the comfort of sleep. "WAKE UP!" It screamed.

I jolted upright, chest heaving as my eyes darted to and fro frantically. Not a soul aside from myself could be found in the dimly lit room. I'm back home, I realized as I looked around. Books were strewn across the table in the other room I could see from my bed, the embers from the dying fire the only source of light.

Something's wrong, the thought took me by surprise, stomach churning as I grew aware of the silent tension that stifled my rooms. My hand rested upon the tiny life that still glowed from the depths of my womb. Safe, I sighed, shoulders slumping. Slowly, I reached out to my bond with Killian, only to find that he still had the mental barrier between us erected. I frowned, bothered to find it still, yet reassured that it at least meant he was alive.

Pieces of memories told me that Nyra's magic had worked its wonders on my body, bones only slightly protesting as I slipped out of bed. I wrapped a cloak tightly around me as I shuffled into the next room, shivering despite the thick layers I wore. What is it? I wondered, apprehension scratching at the back of my mind as I glanced around once more. Though it wasn't uncommon to leave a patient alone, especially after they had survived death's doorstep, there was something about the way the world refused to breathe, that made me clutch the cloak tighter to me.