Samhain

chapter twenty: where he heals

Wooyoung opens his eyes, greeted by a darkened room. A cold towel is pressed against his forehead, relieving some of the pain from his throbbing headache.

"How do you feel?"

The voice spooks him. Wooyoung attempts to sit up, but the pain in his neck is too intense to handle. He settles for leaning back against the pillow, resting on the cozy bed. His voice is hoarse when he responds. "I feel worse than crap, but not quite like shit."

With a grimace and a deep, shuddering breath, Wooyoung carefully tilts his head to search for the source of the voice.

Brown eyes that pair with the dry blood stuck to his face watch him as he stirs. Jongho sits in his line of sight, giving him a delicate smile. "Careful, try not to move. The healing magic needs a few minutes to start working."

The room is humble and simple, made almost entirely of wood. The furniture is undecorated and functional, giving the room a sense of warmth and comfort despite its simple design. A variety of sacred symbols from various pantheons hang from iron hooks on the walls. The air is quiet, giving the room an almost reverent quality.

Jongho is seated on a stool with a basin filled with water and soap at his feet. The clothes in his hands, stained with dark red blood, hang limply over the side. He wrings out a shirt and blood drips from it freely, staining the clear water with red.

"I saw you, you know." Jongho's tone is tinged with empathy as he remembers. He drops the shirt under the water, letting it soak for a while. "Many times. But I remember you were standing outside on a Monday night not that long ago. I couldn't help but feel that you were lost."

Wooyoung sounds tired, his energy level clearly low as the gentle vibration of healing magic works its way through his system. "Why do you care?"

Wooyoung blinks, wavering for a few seconds as his thoughts drift to the whirlwind of claws and teeth that dug into his skin, giving way to a bright, blinding light.

The shadow creature. The sound of wind tearing Purgatory apart. The screaming.

The memory hurts, and a sharp pain slices through his head.

Jongho ignores his question and waves his hand, and another soothing wave of healing magic eases the pain. "See? You are lost. Faithless are those that turn their back on their path the moment the road darkens."

"My road is dark," Wooyoung says slowly, trying to relax into the priest's magic. "It's always dark. There's no light at the end of the tunnel for me."

"Then it's a good thing we have matches."

Jongho fishes out a match from his shirt pocket and lights the candles lining the walls. Instantly, the room is illuminated in a warm, orange glow. The flickering flame casts long shadows across the walls, filling the small space with light and a homely atmosphere.

The priest's winged shadow sways against the hardwood wall.

"You're an angel, aren't you?"

Angels are a rare sight. Few of the otherworldly beings descend to earth from their realm. They are considered to be very elaborate in their speech, yet profoundly benevolent, emanating a naturally intense aura.

Wooyoung studies the handsome priest before him. His eyes wander to the winged shadow on the wall and back to the simple, seemingly human man, wondering how the hell he didn't notice this before.

The angel gives Wooyoung a gummy smile. "Yeah, I'm an angel. What gave you the impression that I'm mortal?"

Wooyoung isn't sure how to answer that question.