The Vaticinator

26. Blossoming

I feel a finger poking my forehead. My closed eyes pinch and my face scrunches up in annoyance. I sleepily swat the finger away and adjust my head on the stiff pillow. Thankfully, the finger doesn’t bother me again. I find myself almost at the brink of falling asleep again when a whole hands starts jerking my shoulder. My eyes immediately fly open, annoyed. I am greeted by Neal’s face who is also frowning back at me. I blink, caught off guard by him leaning down on the side of the bed. I straighten up, immediately sitting and stretching my body. Neal quietly sighs, standing up and picking up a tray from the side taboret.

“Eat up.” He says.

“You broke my sleep.” I mumble, half annoyed.

“You need to eat.” He stresses.

Sleepily, I grab the tray from his hand. “I’ll feel queasy.” I point out, trying to stifle a yawn.

“You need to eat anyways. You can’t starve yourself. Maybe you should move out, enjoy the cool air a bit. You’re stuck in the room since morning.”

“I would have if not for the drowsiness.” I mutter.

I get up from the bed. I look out of the small window of our room, which greets me with the sight of the darkening sky, the river, the river bank beyond and the forest trees moving backwards. That’s the same scene I am being greeted with every time I wake up. I have honestly realized that I do not like voyaging; even if I am asleep for more than half the day.

I stretch my muscles again, sighing with relief at my movements. I have been lying in this god forsaken bed for almost ten hours. That may not have been a problem much, except for the fact that I have been dozing on and off since we have boarded. The medicines I have taken in the morning, and again in the afternoon, have been excessively sedative. I have been in deep slumber since the time we settled in our allotted room; occasionally waking up for five or so minutes, before dozing off again.

Not to mention, I have been feeling woozy since our journey started. That has prevented me from eating much since morning. I don’t get sea sickness, so I blame the medicines and probably the stale sandwich I ate at the last hotel, for this unpredictable outcome. But I am pain free; only my right arm aches on movement. Most of all, I am headache free. So I swallow down all of my complaints. You give something, you get something, right?

I walk to the small bathroom attached with our room. I splash water on my face multiple times. I am determined to stay awake for the rest of the day, whatever is left of it. One would expect me to be absolutely relaxed to have slept through the day. But it has managed to only enhance my paranoia. For the reasons only known to the Goddess, I am excessively doubtful about our course. Granted, I have not been conscious much to worry over the issue. But whenever in the right mind, I cannot help but feel that this decision to go back is going to shoot us in the back. I am more than half sure this is a bad idea. We shouldn’t be going back. I even find myself expressing surprise at my own agreement to depart so quickly.

Also, Neal is again being his thoughtful self, something that I have come to deeply despise. Again, I shouldn’t really complain about his quietness when I have been asleep the whole day. But even for the few minutes when I have been up, Neal has looked lost in his thoughts, deeply thinking in the world he has conjured up in his mind. His thinking stance and silence is only making me doubt our situation; even doubt his judgment regarding the issue.

I am probably this anxious because it has been too much time since I sensed Neal’s aura. Glancing at the fading light through the small window, I realize that his aura should start radiating within a few minutes, if it hasn’t already started. About time as well. I want to be rid of the skittishness. His aura may just act as an incentive that will keep me away from sleep too.