The Evanescent

Chapter Eight

The Daemon sat against Mae's bed with his head bowed slightly, listening to her soft breathing. Deitonin soon lifted his hand, looking at the dark bruise across the back of it, Where else have you sprung up...?

He peered over the edge of the bed, making sure that Mae was still sleeping soundly. He slowly stood and went over to the large mirror mounted on the wall, pulling off his shirt to look for more bruises.

Deitonin frowned upon seeing a rather large, mottled black bruise across his right side where the Dark Maker had cut him open. He hesitated before turning his back to the mirror, looking over his shoulder to see a couple misshapen splotches clustered around deep pink and grey scar tissue over freshly healed claw marks; they appeared to be from the gauntlets he vaguely remembered the Dark Maker wearing.

He glanced over at the bed as Mae shifted, sighing as she did. He hoped she wasn't waking up, but relaxed as she grew still afterward. Deitonin pulled his shirt back on as he returned to his place by her side, bending down and placing a gentle kiss on her forehead before going to the door.

He needed to talk to Samos about this...

The Daemon opened the door and slipped out into the hallway, managing to not make a sound as he shut the door behind him. He walked up the flight of stairs and made it back to the Sage's study before anyone met him in the hall.

Samos was tending to his plants with his back to the door, but the bluebird perched on the log sitting on his log began to twitter. The Sage turned, looking up at him, "Yes?"

Deitonin put his hands together, suddenly feeling nervous under the Sage's watchful gaze.

"Is there something wrong?"

The Daemon rubbed the back of his neck with a hand, looking down, "Um...I-I just wanted to ask you...about something..."

"What is it?" he asks.

He raised his hand a little to show the dark splotch, "Um...I found a bunch of these around the wounds inflicted by the Dark Maker..."

Samos frowned upon hearing this, "Let me see them, if you don't mind."

Deitonin hesitated before pulling off his shirt and stuffing it into his satchel, "Okay..."

He watched the Sage look over his wounds from where he stood, Deitonin looked down at him as he walked away, "What do you think?"

"I can make a paste to keep it from getting infected." he replied.

"Thank you..." Deitonin said reaching back and touching the claw marks; he could feel that the skin was unnaturally cold to the touch and slightly numb, "Uh...Would you happen to know if Dark Makers do something special with their gauntlets?"

Samos paused, "I believe some do put poison on their gauntlet, but I'm not too sure."

"Poison huh...?" he mused running a hand over the claw marks.

"Yes. Jak had been struck by one a long time ago."

"Were his wounds...cold?"

"Yes," Samos nodded, "But he was running a fever."

Deitonin frowned, "I see..."

"I'll get started on the paste, if you want."

"Take your time..."

Samos turned and moved over to a large cabinet filled with several herbs and medicinal plants, Deitonin watched him, intrigued, "Is there anything you need me to do?"

The Sage shook his head, "Just sit down so you don't strain yourself."

Deitonin obeyed, sitting against the wall, "Okay."