Panic filled him for a moment, and he felt himself glow with surge of light. Glow? Suddenly it made sense. He was a star. With that knowledge--that realization--he could see everything around him. Not just what would be in front of the eyes he once had. He could "see" all the stars all around him. And once he became aware of what he was, he could hear them.
"Welcome home." Said an echo of endless voices. The flow of voices was not overwhelming, but it echoed off into forever. Drifting into the resting of the universe.
"I have only been away for a short time" he said, the rest of the voices echoing after him. He realized they were repeating the entire encounter so every star in the entirety of existence could be a part of this conversation. All could offer up something to say.
"Yes, a very short time." They echoed.
"Why am I a star?" He asked. It seemed like a pointless question, because he couldn't answer himself what he didn't know.
"You have always been. You are of the we. We are stars. We are one. We go where we are. Where one is, we all follow after. You followed us first. We will follow you."
Demaren began to feel dizzy.
"Go back." The voices echoed further apart now, making everything feel disjointed.
"Back..." He repeated. He brought a hand to his forehead. He opened his eyes quickly.
There was no space. No stars. His hand was in sight. The darkness of a dim forest.
He dropped his hand into the moss. Soft and wet. A pang of disappointment pricked his heart. He felt lonely now, without that dream. There had been some comfort in it. He heard no multitude of voices. Just the wind in the trees, humming of insects, and shifting sighs of Ashling beside him.
Ashling.
He turned slowly, for his body ached tremendously. She was curled into a ball, her back against his thigh. His eyes felt tired and swollen. His mouth powdery dry. He shifted to sit up more, but couldn't bring himself to do more than send a tremor through his muscles. It hurt his chest to move, and he looked down to see a bandage around his upper chest. A tearing sort of hot pain lingered sharply around his left pectoral. He winced and tears glazed his eyes. The pain of the wound was intense. And the echo in some hollow part of his chest reminded him how very alone he was in the entire world.
His mother was gone. He had a feeling his father was too. And now, after that dream, he really felt the burden of solitude. Even Ashling felt far away from him. Would he ever feel like a part of something again? When had this happened to him? He thought back to pinpoint a time. It must have been when his father had been brought to the shore. He felt himself grow up then and somehow he went beyond the world of his friends. He'd felt at ease with Jeron, but that could never have been permanent. What about Ashling?
Demaren sighed. And suddenly Ashling sat up. It was as if she had heard her name in his mind, or maybe whispered in the sigh.
"You're awake!" She said it in a hushed voice, but the urgency was blatant. Her eyes blinked rapidly and she slipped in closer to hover herself over him. He wanted to speak, but he felt so tired. So physically drained, he couldn't even hold his eyes up above him without them wanting to droop down again.
"Do you need anything? Are you hurting? Are you okay?"
Truly, Demaren wanted to console the obvious concern. But his body would not react. He tried to smile with his eyes at her, and he thought he managed a small smile and some curvature of his eyes. But she was hardly focused on his minute facial expressions. Her hand was checking for a fever on his forehead, his pulse in his wrist, then she lightly touched the bandage. He winced and stifled a gravelly gasp at the slight pressure, as it sent a thousand burning needles across the wound.
"I'm sorry." She whispered from above him, taking her hand from the bandage. "Maybe Larii can help..."
Demaren didn't know who Larii was. He cocked an eyebrow pathetically at Ashling.
She smiled slightly, "Hang on."
And she flitted out of sight somewhere past his head. He followed her as far as he could, which was only to the point where he rolled his eyes into his head (which made him dizzy and he had to close his eyes from the swirl of a head rush).
The rustling of leaves alerted him to some arrival. He opened his eyes blearily to peek out before popping them open fully.
There were two girls in sight. One was Ashling, looking concerned as usual. The other was most definitely not any variation of Ashling and was certainly green. And staring very hard at him. He narrowed his eyes, feeling perturbed.
"Isn't there anything we can give him for the pain?" Ashling asked suddenly, looking at the green female.
There was silence as the off colored girl didn't reply. Ashling was then blushing and looking off at some out of sight feature.
"I'm sure that would be distracting... But that wouldn't help the pain." She mumbled.
A quiet stillness ensued.
Ashling rose, brushing off her knees and saying, "I'll get it." And she went out of sight again. Demaren tried to watch her go again, then looked quickly at the green girl, who smiled at him. He felt a slight comfort at her warm smile, but didn't appreciate it when she started to unbandage his chest. He cried out again, and his muscles twitched furiously.
Ashling was back in sight instantly, "Stop it! Stop it!!" She insisted at the green girl. Demaren could hear the crunching of leaves and foliage behind him. Then a muzzle began to snuffle about his hair. Demaren smiled weakly at Friend's inspection, and grimaced affectionately when the tongue lolled over his head.
"I'll do it." Said Ashling, motioning the other girl away. Demaren was half pleased and half terrified. Ashling took a small packet from some hidden pocket in her outfit and poured a tiny flow of powder into her mouth. Demaren thought it was mysterious for her to be taking recreational drugs at a time like this, but he'd never figured her for that type of person as it was. He was even more confused when she took a swig from the water bag (it was a small struggle, so they must have been running low) and swished it around in her mouth for a mere moment. And then leaned down to his face and kissed him. Or what would have been a kiss, if she hadn't essentially pushed the powder/water mixture into his mouth. She pulled away all too soon.
"Swallow." She said quietly, her head still inches above him. He fought with the muscles in his throat and managed to get down the slightly bitter drink. Satisfied now, Ashling sat up fully and leaned back to sit on her ankles.
It was a moment of awkward silence. Ashling looked at Larii mostly. Demaren felt tired and ignored, which was a stupid thing to feel, but he wasn't feeling particularly well. But after a few minutes, a warm sort of feeling smoothed over his tired body. When it reached his chest, the burning pain he hadn't really noticed rippled out. He felt, not great, but a lot better. He smiled.
"Better?" Ashling said, slightly fuzzy in his ears. Demaren closed his eyes in sluggish reply.
Then Ashling began to unbind the bandages around his chest. He was surprised and opened his eyes to watch. She often had to reach over his chest to pull the wrap around, and he enjoyed those moments. But as the layers came off, the bandages came out a little more soiled than before. Then he could see pink, raw flesh. More bandages came off. Blood and pus stained huge patches now. He wanted to feel concerned, but could only feel warm. He even laughed feebly. Ashling glanced at him in concern, then turned back to the green girl.
"What was that?"
No response again. Demaren laughed at the bizarre silent creature and the fact that Ashling insisted on trying to talk to her. But Ashling must have felt satisfied for her continued removing the bandages. And after a few more wrappings, all were gone. Demaren peered over his cheeks and down at his chest. There was blood staining his chest. Pus still glistened over the flesh. And the skin itself was fine, if slightly pale, until you moved in towards the center of his chest. The skin turned pink and inflamed. And then it was torn and lipped with white. He'd been wounded. He widened his eyes in mild surprise.
"Huh!" Then he sniggered again. He cocked his eye brow at the piercings, as fresh pus oozed out. He was glad there was no blood coming out. And the pus meant it was healing. Probably.
"I don't like that medicine..." Ashling half growled from beside him, rolling up the bandages. She pulled out a fresh set from his bag and set them in the pocket of her skirt.
The green girl tumbled into sight (he hadn't noticed her exit) with the water bag. She sloshed it merrily around, smiling widely. Ashling took it, looking relieved, and poured some onto a cloth. Then she began to gently clean the wound.
A messy half hour later, having cleaned and medicated the injury precisely, Ashling (having playfully slapped the green hand away) took great care in wrapping Demaren back up tightly and securely.
By this time, he was feeling drowsy again. But still warm! Ashling was looking down at him, so he focused his eyes on her.
"A little better?" She said, concerned.
Demaren didn't want to be giggly from the medicine she'd kissed into him (he'd call it what he wanted!!) and wanted to be less tired than he felt. He smiled at her warmly. He uncurled his fingers, holding his hand open to her, though still on the ground.
She grabbed it firmly and pulled it beneath her chin. He marveled at how warm her hands were. He realized he didn't feel warm at all. She was genuinely warm and soft and safe. His eyes implored at her suddenly.
"...I was alone..." he forced himself to say, draining the last reserves of strength he seemed to have.
"I'm here now..." She whispered, "I won't leave you."
His eyes were already closing, but he smiled at her fading face. Then he fell asleep. But he did not dream of stars. He did not dream at all.
- - -
The next days passed in a similar manner, but with less and less panic as the days went on. He gained more energy each day, and always fell asleep either holding her hand or with his head in her lap. He was able to take the medicine himself on the third day of consciousness. He never dreamed of those stars again. But he also never forgot them. He didn't feel so alone when Ashling was awake and he could feel her touch. At the end of the first week he was sitting up, and by the end of the second they were letting him walk very short distances.
There was a brief argument about him perhaps riding Friend, but both he and Friend were both adamantly against it. Sulking ensued.
They spent about three weeks sitting in the clearing. Demaren learned the green girl was the Larii Ashling had referred to. And throughout the weeks, the Avery (the same beast that tried to kill them) would slip around the camp and snuffle with Friend. Demaren did not like it and would not like it. Ever.
When they finally decided to leave (Ashling insisted Velt was only a days ride away) Larii followed them to the edge of the forest. Demaren walked slowly beside Ashling and Friend, still unsure about flying. But a few hours on foot, he was tired and his feet ached.
"Ashling, do you think I could try to fly?"
"If you feel well enough.." She said, obvious doubt in her voice. Demaren frowned and rubbed his head.
"I don't know. I'm just tired of walking."
"You can try. I mean, you can always land again if it isn't working."
He nodded, half doubting himself. But he stretched his wings. They hadn't been totally ignored during those weeks. He'd flexed them and flapped them, but he hadn't actually tried them out. He started the steady pump of power in the appendages. Then he ran forward waiting for the tug of the sky to let him know he was ready. It came, and he lifted off.
It felt good to fly. It didn't even hurt his chest. He didn't try to spiral or even roll, though. Too risky at this point. But he followed pleasantly above Ashling and Friend, who had picked up the pace to keep up.
But, when he landed at dusk to meet them, just outside the city (they wanted to go in the city at night) he found not only Friend and Ashling waiting. But also Larii.
"What the--Larii?!" He was astounded.
Ashling shrugged, looking only half guilty. "She kept following..." She ended it with a small smile.
Demaren sniffed in vague frustration. "Fine."
Ashling was already setting up for dinner. Larii sat on Friend, braiding the mane, pleasantly kicking her legs.
Ashling turned to Larii, "No, we're having some mushy stuff."
Demaren frowned at the one sided conversation he had never really gotten used to.
The dainty Gaeian continued after a moment, "Oh, if you have some Harp bird I'll cook it."
Larii rolled off of Friend and trotted over with a small bag she had over her shoulder. She pulled out a bird, feathers awkwardly angled.
Demaren felt sick at the sight of the broken wings, and openly stepped back in horror. "I'm not eating that."
Ashling looked from the bird to Demaren, slightly horrified herself. "Oh!" She practically sang it with guilt. "Larii says sorry, too."
He frowned.
"No she doesn't. She doesn't say anything! It's incredibly insane that you talk to her like you can hear some unspoken response!"
"I told you, she talks in pictures! I don't know why you can't hear--er, see them!"
A scowl crept into his face, "Ash, pictures? Really? In your head? Are you serious? It just sounds so crazy! I don't think you're crazy, but I've never heard anything like that before except from crazy people!"
She sighed and rested her head on her shoulder in resignation. "I can't explain it, it just is."
Demaren grumbled and folded his arms in a half sulk. He leaned against the tree they had rested beside (and that Larii was bounding around on) and asked, "So what's the plan, Miss Telepathy? Enter under the cover of nightfall?"
She cocked an eyebrow, "I'll go in on foot, and grab the map. Grandmother goes to evening temple every night, so it'll be easy to sneak in and out."
"And the rest of us? Me? Friend? Larii?"
"Wait here, of course. I won't be more than an hour."
Demaren narrowed his eyes.
"Or you could fly above me and wait on the roof?"
"Better."
Friend snuffled and snorted in protest, but they ignored him. So Larii jumbled down and stroked his head, looking vaguely annoyed herself.
They got ready to separate, packing her a few probable essentials: nothing. She actually removed the skirt portion of her outfit, to maneuver more easily.
"How fortunate that you also possess a pair of pants." Demaren teased.
"At least I have a shirt."
Demaren smirked, and said playfully, "That's a good thing?"
Ashling opened her mouth to speak, but closed it as a blush crept into her cheeks. She balled up her fists and stalked forward. And just as Demaren was starting to worry he'd gone a little too far, she turned back to stick her tongue out. He laughed outright, and took a leap into the air.
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