Back To The Past

Chapter 5

AN: A present for you guys for waiting so long!

Zane's eyes blinked open. Once again pain racked his body causing him to gasp and his body to arch out in pain. Not a moment too soon the green-eyed man was crouching beside his bed and one of his hands was resting on the small of his back, supporting him.

He didn't know what the other man did, but something cold slid down his throat and after a few seconds, the pain became bearable once again.

"My apologies," the man said with a small frown. "This spell does not work on most people. I didn't think it would cause you harm."

Zane did not answer, focused on the way hundreds of new words were shifting inside his head. The process was no longer painful, but still highly uncomfortable. After a few minutes, his attention went to the warmth of the man's hand on his back. It was seeping through his skin with an ease that made him realise that - save for a few bandages - he was bare-chested. Zane could not help the instinctive stiffening of his shoulders at the prolonged proximity.

Thankfully, the stranger seemed to notice his discomfort. He stood promptly and stepped away.

Zane's headache returned with the distance but he wrestled it under control.

"I'm fine," he finally croaked, not even surprised to hear foreign words roll off his tongue.

The man raised an eyebrow. "I would hate to hear your definition of 'unwell' then," he said. "But I suppose that you are in better health than you were a few days ago."

Zane's head snapped up in surpise. "I was out for days?"

"For about three and a half, yes."

Zane stared numbly at the man.

Three days. Anything could have happened in three days. He could have been captured, even killed, that monster could have won.

Suddenly, Zane wanted to scream. He wanted to grab that stranger by the shoulders and shake him until he understood the gravity of the situation. How could he look so calm? There was shadow knights out there, possibly outside out there waiting, slaughtering villigers searching for him and he had let Zane sleep for three entire days? Was he daft?

Zane breathed deeply. More than anything, he wanted to know where he was. He wanted to ask the man whether or not he was safe, whether there had been any news concerning him. Surely, The Dark Lord would have been delighted to find him so he could force information out of me.

But he bit back every word, every question. He did not know this man and if, by some miracle, he had not recognized who he was yet, it would be foolish of Zane to give away his identity. Or the fact he might have 'friends' looking for him.

Feeling sick, he leaned back against the headboard of the bed. "How bad was it?" he settled for asking between gritted teeth.

The man gave him a long, curious look before he answered, "Well, your main injury was a deep cut on your back. You lost a lot a blood." As he spoke, magic slowly twirled between his long fingers, momentarily distracting Zane. "I did what I could, but curse-inflicted injuries tend to leave lasting scars."

Zane was not surprised. It wouldn't be his first battle wound. He suspected it wouldn't be his last, either.

"The burns on your left arm and your sprained ankle were easier to deal with. The broken ribs, a few days old, I believe?" Zane gave a samll curt nod. He had Gene to thank for this particular injury. "Weren't much more difficult to heal. What nearly send you to the other side was the fever. Being physically and magically exhausted did not help." The magic stopped twirling before the man concluded, "It only abated this morning. I wasn't expecting you to wake before tomorrow."