Murmurings, as though heard from
underwater conspired to pull Darian back to consciousness. As he
began to come to the surface the pain came as well. Sharp pains met
his every breath, his ribs surely bruised if not broken. A dull throb
came from nearly every inch of his body. Darian let out a soft groan.
More murmuring came from closer. Struggling, Darian opened his eyes
slowly. Light filling his eyes, everything was white. After blinking
a couple times, the light dimmed and what had been fuzzy shapes
became people. Standing over him were two men, worry painted on their
faces.
“Thomas,” Darian managed to croak.
“I'm here brother. I'm here,”
Thomas replied, unable to keep the concern from his voice.
Darian, struggling to find his
bearings, looked at the second man. “Who are...” he managed
before the strain of talking caught up with him and he began to
cough. Each cough bringing the sharp pains in his side to a
crescendo.
Thomas grasped his brother's shoulder
as the second man brought a cup of water to Darian's mouth. As the
coughing subsided, Thomas answered Darian's question, “This is the
Bishop, he arrived only moments after you fell unconscious. He saved
your life.”
Darian, pausing to ensure he could
speak without incident, reached his hand toward the Bishop. “Thank
you Your Grace,” he said grasping the Bishops hand.
The Bishop, looking down at Darian
replied, “No need, I only wish...”
A piercing shriek filled the room.
Darian, struggled and turned to his side and saw Nora. Lying on a
table on the other side of the room, she was howling to wake the
dead. Restraints strained at her wrists and legs as she seemed to try
to rise to the ceiling. The shadows seemed drawn to her, as if
actively fighting the lamp that lit the room. The Bishop had rushed
to her side, attempting to calm her down but nothing seemed to help.
Finally he knelt next to the table and began to pray.
The shrieking stopped, and Nora began
to change.
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