When the prince awoke he was safe in his cabin propped up in bed by soft feather pillows. It was a bright morning outside the window and the seabirds were wheeling and squawking around the ship. The prince knew that could only mean one thing, they were home.
There was a peculiar numbness around the prince’s body, his vision was blurred, and he was extremely lethargic. He moved his arms as if to use them to prop up his body, but a sharp shock of pain collapsed his effort. He looked at his hands and to his surprise they were encased in thick bandages, though it was clear that his left hand was little more than a stump. Panicked, he tried to kick away the blanket to check his legs, but the sheets would not move how he expected them to. He screamed, not in pain, but in defeat. The screams turned to tears as the doctor rushed in.
“My lord, you’re awake? I am so sorry, but we could not save your legs, the damage was too severe!” explained the doctor.
The forlorn prince simply looked at the doctor and said, “Where is the other man?”
Before the quivering doctor could say anything, the man walked through the door completely unscathed, bowed and made his way to the prince.
“My prince” he said in the same voice as the god in him dream, “It is an honour to be able to thank you in person.” The man bowed again and extended a hand. The prince laid his right, bandaged hand on the mans and felt a strange, calming warmth from him, the ocean sounds amplified in his watery head and all the pain from his shortened joints left him and he fell back to sleep.
“How strange” said the doctor checking the prince’s vitals. “He’s just gone back to sleep. It almost looked as if he was relapsing.”
“He’ll be fine doctor, you did a splendid job. Let’s get him back to his quarters in the palace where we can get a better look at him.” Said the man.
The doctor agreed and ran out of the room to start getting the transport ready for the long walk back to the royal palace.
“Sleep for now, my prince, for we have much to discuss, you and I, much…”
Categories: Hellheart Archive