《Dogears》Trollhunters/Merlin

《 Chapter Twenty-Two 》

"Even after the dam breaks, water continues to run, albeit much slower."

The nightmares got worse.

Great beasts and dark thunderclouds brew in his mind every night. Sometimes they chase him, sometimes they rip him to pieces. Every other night, it's him who's chasing them, ripping them apart with his bare hands once they inevitably end up within his grasp.

Each night he awakes, drenched in his own sweat and gasping for breath that should never have been his. Bandages wrap loosely around his palms, hiding deep crescent-shaped wounds, a result of clenching his fists so tightly. Sometimes he rips through the fabric, fouling his hands and bed-sheets with crimson stains.

While his memories have been returned, his mind has not.

He knows that he is someone far greater than who he outwardly displays, and he wants to learn. His voice sounds older, more refined, and even his thoughts come differently, flowing smoothly and without hesitation. Not a single tremor quakes his hands when he draws and he doesn't turn his head at the sight of gore.

Barbara insists that he stay at home for a few days, giving him time to recover and reflect. He had given them all quite the scare when he was found.

Curled in the far corner of the history classroom with bloodshot eyes and a haunted expression. His shoulders had been shaking so much that he couldn't even keep his head upright. And when one of the investigating firemen tried to pull him up, he got so spooked that he hit them and broke their nose before running into the locker room. It took over an hour to ease him out.

Sometimes, different words and experiences can trigger an episode or memory, and not all of them have been pretty. For example, when Steve shoved him into a locker, a very vivid vision of a man in armour flashed before his eyes and he crumpled to the floor immediately, believing that he had just watched a mace bury itself in his stomach. And upon seeing Jim and Toby pretend to sword fight with chopsticks, blood and gore filled his sight, bodies falling limp as he ran them through with his own blade.

A demanding croak eases him from his thoughts and he smiles softly at the raven fledgling, finding amusement in the pouting expression delivered his way. Muninn has grown quite rapidly in the few days they've been together, having nearly lost all of his chick fluff and gained roughly a hundred grams. That being said, he definitely acts like a toddler sometimes.

"I take it yer hungry, hm?" he chuckles quietly, climbing out of bed to grab his gloves. "Just give me a minute, young one."

Forever impatient, and forgetting of his injuries, the young raven hops on the boy's arm as he passes. He wobbles his way up to his caretaker's shoulder, using his beak to nip his gold earring. 

"Calm down, would ye?" Tyler plucks the bird off his shoulder and gives him a mildly scolding look.

Muninn croaks mockingly.

"Honestly," he shakes his head, deciding to just forgo the gloves and directly hand-feed mealworms instead. 

To his relief, the fledgling gobbles down a large handful of the insects. But he decides to regurgitate a wet mush of larvae onto the boy's desk. He looks at him expectantly.

Tyler blinks, eyes darting between the two. Then he understands and resists a grimace. "No. I'm not eatin' that. I can't eat that."

Muninn croons, bobbing his head in outrage.