<p>Her eyes were once wide saucers so full of surprise that it leaked as tears through her lashes and onto her Granny Smith cheeks. They once beheld a body gripped by claws of concrete and stone and bitten by teeth of ceramic and glass. They once bore silent witness to the slow and painful excavation of Vythe Vidallyn, an image that now remained a shaken projection in her mind's blurry eye. Large, round and watery teal pools. </p> <p>A month later, now ringed with bruised-plum purple, those same eyes were lidded low from hours of wakefulness. Lamaria sat in a warm room. The sun made starbursts all over the walls, projecting a light that only Mia, cold and resolute, could produce. The heat was comfortable. Too comfortable. Her body, like many times before, began to lapse into sleep. She'd teeter over, head falling from its perch in her palm, crumpling the off-white sheets that covered a coveted man. Vythe had been sleeping like a hibernating bear for a full month. An empath of unprecedented tact, she was responsible for watching him in ways only a healer could... with her heart, the delicate bird it was, quivering at each minor tremor of emotion the unconscious arden resonated with. Vythe's face was soft with the vacancy of sleep. She could only wonder where his mind had taken him, racing, and peer curiously at his lax expression when his body murmured with hiccups of delight, terror, anguish, frustration, jealousy and so on. On occasion she'd sit at his side only to clutch her ribcage, feeling both the pains from his accident and the shards of distress from some unknown dream realm. An eye twitching or a lip shuffling was the only indication he'd give her of anything. And the empath took all of what she could. This was her job, you see: to open herself to the uncertainty of others.</p> <p>On that day, her body checked out early and left no evidence of its return. The khell fell asleep quite close to the other's left hip--one part of his body that had gotten by unscathed, one of nine lives sacrificed--leaving herself utterly exposed to any and all of the other's senses. </p>
<p class="p1"><strong>“What is wrong with you?”</strong> Vythe demanded as he grabbed Koani firmly by her left wrist. He’d purposely grabbed her weaker side. Koani used Vythe’s grip as momentum to whirl around and give him a fleeting look of distaste before promptly lowering her gaze. Vythe nearly recoiled from the sharpness that he was met with, but kept his ground. <strong>“You’ve been acting odd.”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“Let go.”</strong> Koani said hotly with anger that was still threatening to overflow. Vythe let go of her wrist.</p> <p class="p1"><strong>“Don’t tell me this moon alignment thing has got you all riled up too.”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“No… well yes, but no, again.”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“Ani, look, the media has a way of blowing things out of proportion. The doomsayers aren’t helping the situation. You know that.” </strong>Vythe said. When Koani met him with silence, he continued. <strong>“Really, what is it? What’s bothering you?”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“You shouldn’t go to Ajita tomorrow.”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“Is than an order?”</strong></p> <p class="p1">Koani appeared to think this over for a moment, then with a resigned sigh she shook her head no.</p> <p class="p1"><strong>“The world doesn’t just grind to a stop because some lunatics believe that the end is nigh. This investigation is important. You know that. If it goes smoothly, I should be able to find out who their USR informant is. You know first hand how dangerous traitors can be, and this might go deep.”</strong></p> <p class="p1"><strong>“Vythe… no more of this. I don’t want to talk. I don’t want to see you. I don’t…”</strong> Koani straightened up, her green-blue eyes ablaze as she looked directly at him for the first time. She took a deep breath and for a moment she was full of that familiar Grader confidence and grace. <strong>“Vythe Ash Vidallyn, dear friend of my Father, you’ve been of great service to my family. I know who is responsible for my daughter’s death, and it isn’t you. It saddens me that you’ve been burdened with that for so long. That I couldn’t tell you. Couldn’t tell you the truth. You thought that you owed me… that you had failed. You didn’t. You never have. I can’t do this though, and you know what? Right now, I <em>hate</em> you.”</strong> The last words slipped from her lips venomously. Without any further explanation, Koani turned around and stormed away down the hall.</p> <p class="p1">Vythe found himself reeling from Koani’s strong words. At first he wanted to chase after her; he wanted to demand details. If anything he thought he deserved an explanation. The two of them had many shared secrets. Despite their differing opinions, Vythe was always under the impression that they had trusted one another. <em>Has she always hated me? </em>Vythe sulked. He leaned backwards and when his back made contact, he let himself collapse. He slid heavily against the surface of the wall until he was sitting. He closed his eyes. <em>What did I do wrong? </em></p> <p class="p1">When Vythe opened his eyes again, everything was blurry. There was a soft orange glow that felt terribly foreign to him. This wasn’t the hallway that he had just been in. Disoriented, Vythe tried to take in a deep breath in order to calm himself, however he found himself unnaturally stifled. His breath felt short and halting. A panic had started to wash over him when his eyes finally focused on something - an object - green - a head - not too far away from his side. Instinctively, Vythe tried to reach out and touch it with his right hand. <strong>“Hey… I don’t mean t-“</strong> He said hoarsely as his arm attempted to cross over his chest. Instead of gently poking the figure like he had been intending to do, his body seized up and Vythe fell into a serious fit of coughing. All of the sudden he was very aware of the situation he was in as the violent jarring made his body protest loudly in pain.</p>
<p>Bears don't actually hibernate. It's not true hibernation, for a bear's metabolism doesn't plummet and perform near-fatal circus tricks. Instead, bears enter a prolonged state of rest called <em>torpor</em>. One can imagine the things that can wake a bear... a unseasonably tepid day; a murder of crows cawing odiously; a rattling dream, for which they have no explanation, but only can wake to invoke its end. Who knows what woke this bear. It is only certain that Lamaria wasn't ready for it.</p> <p><strong>"UHN-"</strong></p> <p>Her voice was strangled, cut-off, stifled as a beached fish. Except... she had all the air she had wanted. It was the pain that managed to choke her throat, its taut grasp gripping with all force of fallen buildings in Ajita. Fallen thill. As quickly as he'd attempted to steer that adventurous digit in her direction was as quickly as she'd risen from sleep... although one arguably might say, fallen, because his maelstrom of pain had caused her inexplicably to jolt, then politely obey the requests of gravity. Salt-water surfaced in her eyes. It took her another second of groaning to rise again, careful in her ascent but also unequivocally steady. A professional. In a matter of seconds she was back in the chair.</p> <p>Lamaria had managed to seal herself from Vythe after she hit the ground yet the burn still lingered, whining, kicking and scratching with the impatience of a million anxious dogs at her ribcage. Swallowing, she gazed at him for a second too long. Her face was thoughtful but firm, although beneath the veneer raced an excitement. He had woken thus causing ripples of fast-pulses and wide-eyes. It was a moment she had been preparing for but had been uncertain to come. The Graders would be pleased. <em>Slowly, Maria, slowly.</em> <strong>"Vythe Vidallyn. You should not use your right arm. You have been injured," </strong>she spoke calmly with hopes of slowing his uneasy heartbeat. She could feel it in the tips of her ears, burning with each faster lub-a-dub. When her ears were burning it wasn't because anyone was thinking of her. On the contrary,<em> she was thinking of them</em>. <strong>"You're safe, you're in Swaraj. You are a ward of the Teltanbaj hospital."</strong> It wasn't a lot of information to be given but she wanted to tread carefully, so as not to jar him any more than he was ready for. Any more than she was ready for. <strong>"Really, please don't try to move. Not yet. I'm not ready,"</strong> she said more quietly. A muted smile formed. Would he recognize her from all those pui past, back when she'd been assigned to security for that god forsaken concert? Sweat, body heat, clammy air, smoke, beer, sticky floors, bright lights, haze, glittering sequins. A memory swam, flicking its tail in its retreat. </p>
<p><strong>“</strong><strong>Injured?”</strong> Vythe said, his voice quiet and reflective. He couldn't quite recall what had happened, although it was painfully obvious that he was injured. That memory felt like a dark and foreboding shadow as he tentively probed it. Dust, dirt, grime... A perfect antithesis to the sterile environment which he presently occupied. Vythe found himself staring rather openly at the thill, his bright blue eyes using her as a central focal point in order to keep himself oriented. A tinge of familiarity stung his addled brain.</p> <p><strong>“</strong><strong>I know you...” </strong>He said after a pregnant moment as he tried to get used to taking shallower breaths of air. There was something not quite right with his lungs. <strong>“Or at least I knew you. Somehow. I did, right? I don't think I remember your name... How bad is my condition?”</strong></p> <p>Vythe broke off eye contact in order to try and look himself over. It was hard given the position he was in, but he was able to get a relatively rough idea. He appeared to be swathed in an uncomfortable amount of bandages. What he saw left him feeling quite powerless. This wasn't acceptable. <strong>“Or should I be asking what part of me didn't get injured?”</strong></p>
<p><em>"I know you..."<br /></em></p> <p>All the better. Their connection, as empath and patient, would be quietly facilitated, made all the more powerful in familiarity. To that she maintained an expression of subtle contentment: soft sable lips in a smooth curl and eyes semi-lidded and warm as hearth. "Yes, injured. Fairly exhaustively, at this point. Your body has been slow to recuperate, especially in absence of external Fronima."</p> <p>From a neighbouring room came <a href="http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GA5Q8u5f0Ks&playnext=1&list=PL2F2FFB44B23400ED">the slow swell of music</a>, bubbly, whimsical and almost childlike if it were not for the unifying Ramathian singing. Lamaria turned her head momentarily in the direction of the hall, as if expecting something to happen. Her genial expression returned although nothing obvious had changed. In the air the empath could physically feel the heat of healing broadcasted just like the music. She regained her attention.<strong> "You've fractured multiple bones and suffered some minor head trauma. Your right arm and shoulder are going to be especially sore -- in the absence of Fronima, we've had to set them with k'niketk." </strong>K'niketk, for your information, was a Ramathian metal that, in the presence of higher temperatures and microbial activity, actually dissolved -- given some tampering. Next to Fronima-bound methods, it was unimpressive technology given the arden's status. Alas, no Fronima, no future.</p> <p>Just then a soft-faced Yki arrived to the room. With pale eyes he glanced at Vythe, then made a sharp face of surprise before hastily returning to passivity.</p> <p><strong>"Good mi-pui, Sonyarit'ba."</strong> A polite and natural nod.</p> <p><strong>"Please, Lamaria, Maria, even Mari, Per'sla. Let me introduce you to the newest: Vidallyn'ba. Vythe, please meet Peritti. He's a healer here, and a pupil of mine."</strong></p> <p>At the introduction the younger male took a gentle blush that did not seem to hinder him in any way. He bowed smoothly at Vythe<strong>. "Good midpui, Vidallyn'ba. Lainekh must be on you for having such a smooth awakening. That and Lamaria must've worked some of her magic."</strong></p> <p>Following introductions, Lamaria proceeded to speak softly to Per, leaving Vythe to his own devices.</p>
<p>Absence of Fronima? Why, that must have meant that... Kytlekh be damned. What had he been doing? Everything was covered in a shroud... if he poked just beyond that though, he found that he could remember exactly what he had last eaten for breakfast (some toast with a thin spreading of Kylymiraa honey). Selective memory? It was an odd concept to him.</p> <p><strong>“I... see.”</strong> Vythe said at the mention of k'niketk. That sort of treatment was almost unheard of these days. It was the kind of thing that criminals in Bhim were often forced to use in a rush if they couldn't afford (or risk) hiring a competent healer. It worked, sure, but the healing period was drawn out significantly. He briefly squeezed his eyes shut. The soft music was colliding with his rapid thoughts of time estimates. This wasn't going to do. He didn't have the time to be here.</p> <p>Vythe missed the entry of the Yki completely. His eyes had spied something strange on his bedside table. However, his attention was broken when he heard Lamaria speak his name. He looked toward the doorway to see that another figure had arrived. To be honest, Vythe wasn't at all interested in the pupil. What had grabbed him was the mention of his healer's name: Lamaria Sonyarit. It was familiar, yet Vythe still couldn't quite place her. He feigned a brief smile at the two of them before getting distracted by his bandages. What had he been doing?</p> <p><em>The table! </em>Noticing that the two of them weren't watching him for the time being, Vythe clenched his teeth in preparation. This was going to hurt. He had been told that he wasn't supposed to move, but Vythe wasn't exactly known for his listening skills. Vythe wriggled up in the bed, noticing at that moment that some of his fractured bones were his ribs. They stung intensely as he moved, but Vythe was in control now. He was able to send those sensations to the dark corners of his mind where they wouldn't bother him. Once in a more suitable position, he made a grab for the object on the bedside table. It wasn't exactly a graceful movement, and Vythe wasn't at all pleased by the lack of dexterity on his part. Yet, he managed. He pulled the object – a book – into his lap where he dropped it.</p> <p><strong>“Ha!”</strong> He laughed out loud, causing more pain as the small contractions shook him. To Vythe's amusement, it was some sort of adult smut novel by <em><a href="wiki/Kjoz">Kjoz</a></em>. <strong>“This is Szambel's, isn't it? I don't think I know anyone else that reads this garbage.”</strong></p>
<p><del>They had just pushed passed the details about the in's-and-outs of bone-setting, the now altered lunch routines of Mr. Vidallyn and the plan of action for Jerethee, the recently orphaned nioti, when Lamaria winced in pain... more as if, her eye twitched. It was empathetic pain... Not enough to contort her face like a stubbed toe might but enough to trigger a ripple in calm waters, so to speak. The softening of the blow was made all the easier by Vythe's complacence in handling it. She crooked a brow towards him and Per's eyes followed likewise.</del></p> <p><del>Much to the healer's dismay, the high-brow gentleman Vythe was seen wagging a less-than-prized smut book of her, ahem, unfortunate liking in the face of her most achieved of pupils. Whenever they spoke of anything sexual beyond the cut-and-dry world of medicine Per would light up as red as a butcher's chopping board. Not to say they spoke nothing sex -- simply, it was a slightly <em>uncomfortable topic</em>. Anyway..</del></p> <p>UNFINISHED!</p>
