There was a faint white light that intensified and materialized then into something that resembled hanging curtains. I found myself surrounded by them—heavy and draping they were, and embroidered in deep blue patterns of flower petals upon more blue and green vines snaking between them.
Then, the strong smell of herbals and alcohol and strange tinctures filled my nostrils and I felt my body stiff. My arms and legs felt as if made from stone, and my eyes ached. And there was a faint pulsing pain in my left shoulder and neck that radiated out into my chest and arm. But soon I saw a face leaning over me, and something wet fell upon my skin.
“So I’m alive…” I mumbled through my numbed jaw.
“Oh, Jonas!” cried Florencia and kissed my forehead. Her swollen red eyes told me she had been crying. “You’re alive!”
She climbed onto the bed beside me and whispered sweet nothings into my ear that I barely understood. Gradually, my vision sharpened and I found myself lying in a narrow bed, tucked in under soft white linens and a thick pillow under my head and neck. I wore thick white robes with striking accents of deep red along the hem and collar, and the fabric was damp and cold.
To my left and right were low stools, upon which were empty vials and small bottles and a mortar and pestle with some herbs. Five candles had been set amongst them and had been burning for some time. Two were extinguished. The air was thick with the heavy smell of medicine and sweat, and somewhere beyond the white curtains that separated Florencia and me from the outside world, I heard quiet groans of pain.
Then I felt the stirring of a familiar being.
“Master! You have awoken again! You went to a place far away and I could not reach you in thought or in dream. But you are alive and well. We managed to save your life—”
“I’m alive, but… I feel different!”
I felt my thoughts disturbed, as if in a mad blur to piece everything together yet there were too many pieces. But strength flowed into my body again, filling my veins and muscles with life force. There was, though, a faint pain that lingered in my shoulder and neck, and burning lines that ran across my chest up to my left cheek.
“Where are we?” I asked.
“Oh, Jonas!” cried Florencia, wiping away her tears. “You’ve been sick for a month!”
“A month? It only felt like a short dream…”
“You’re alive, bless Iscia! And bless Hanuk! Only a few hours ago I came to check up on you and you hadn’t been moving at all and your face was white as a ghost and your eyes were sunken and I thought you’d never wake up!” She kissed my forehead with a hot desperation.
The dream I just had began to fade into memory. Quickly, then, did the details of it blur together and I could only faintly remember a golden being with wings of fire that was of comfort in desperate times. And yet, the disappearance of that memory gave way to something new. Something I had not expected.
Something that I thought, at times, to not even have happened at all.
First, panic took me.
“Did we win? Where are we?” I asked quickly, stuttering over my words. My throat and tongue were stiff, and I could barely form sentences.
In my mind, there were too many thoughts fighting to reveal themselves, yet they were all tied up together. But the question of whether we won, was the most important one. The unexpected revelation would come later.
“Jonas, take it easy. You’re alright and safe. We’re in Rosalda’s temple, along with many of the wounded of the battle. We won, Jonas, but it came at a cost. Jonas… captain Orsin and the corisseri didn’t make it back. They’re gone.”
“All of them?”
“Only a few ever made it back. You and corporal Attonio were the first to return, but a handful of injured stragglers arrived some days later. Everyone else didn’t make it. But we won, Jonas. The Enemy is defeated and Vranik—”
“I didn’t kill Vranik!” I wanted to yell out, but that small fact paled in comparison to what I would tell her soon.
I told her what happened during our terrible fight, and how the demon had annihilated the corisseri with mighty dark magic.
“But you didn’t see him die,” said Florencia, her expression turning dark. When I shook my head, she looked away at the intricately carved stone walls and the spiraling ceiling. “That doesn’t matter now, Jonas. You’re safe and there are no armies attacking our lands.”
“Flo, if I didn’t kill Rasmog, does that mean the war is over? How can that be?”
Florencia’s expression soured, and her delicate features darkened. “The war is not over, Jonas, not precisely, but we are safe here in Lottie. Please understand that you’ve been unconscious for over a month! Much has changed. The King is here, along with his brother and much of the armies. But please, Jonas, please let’s not talk about that right now. Only this morning it felt like you would never wake up. I was in despair, Jonas!”
She kissed my forehead again with a barely contained passion.
“I had a dream, Flo. A dream where—” But I couldn’t tell her.
“Your spirit only barely hung on to your body, Jonas. I’m so relieved that you’re back!” She embraced me and laid down beside me on the narrow bed. There was barely enough room for the two of us, but I didn’t care. It felt good, but despite Florencia’s fiery passion, my thoughts drifted to the grim outcome of the battle.
Captain Orsin was dead, along with all of his corisseri. Close to a thousand proud victors of the battle of Poscale, dead in an hour. And for their sacrifice, I couldn’t kill Rasmog, the architect of Veneiea, Scorro, Castan, and Poscale.
Why had it been I who deserved to stay alive, while the others, who fought even more bravely than I, had to die? None of them could ever return to their families, children, and wives, when I had none of those. The corisseri were blunts, mere men, hard and strong of Lienor. They were the heroic ones, not me. Now they lay rotting in the mud while I’m safe in a soft bed in the temple of the Burning Eye, looking at the magnificent work of stonecarving and colorful painted glass, and a faint winter morning shone through the panes.
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Florencia sprang up quickly, wiped her eyes and cheeks again, and looked down at me in amazement. “Jonas, I felt your spirit slowly wither away with each passing day! But now… I feel it return, but you’re so radiant and bright now! You’re—”
“I am more?” I interrupted and looked into her eyes. “Flo, my dearest, do you remember the dress you wore on your twentieth birthday? The day I took you to the Gilded Anchor, and how you had made your hair in that braid and how you looked so gorgeous. I remember, Flo. I remember how I asked the blacksmith to wrought me a necklace for you. I remember again. I remember all of it.”
Florencia went white. “What?”
“Oh! How young we were then, Flo. Look at us now. Look at me and how old I look, compared to that boy.”
Florencia’s eyes went red and she wiped another single tear off her cheek. “I’m not old!” she blurted out.
“Oh, but your eyes are weary and in there I see the wearing down that has taken place. I would have you smile again, Flo. A real smile, which you used to so effortlessly show me.” And the smile Florencia replied with would’ve thawed the coldest of hearts.
“You… You remember?”
“The dream, Flo, it unlocked the deeper memories within me. Though, I still cannot remember what happened in that wretched cave.”
Florencia jumped back into my embrace and kissed my neck until it hurt, and the burning lines upon my cheek and chest burned again. I groaned in pain.
“I’m sorry! I couldn’t hold back. It’s the scars, Jonas, where Rasmog injured you. Now I understand why it was so difficult to remove the curse!”
Of course. Rasmog the Exalted had stung my left shoulder and neck with its shadowy wing, which was the injury that brought me low. Now upon my skin was dark, jagged lines that ran across my collarbone, shoulder, and neck, reaching up to my cheek and chin. They were sore to the touch.
“Oh! Jonas, I can’t handle this.” Florencia shouted out and jumped up. She went and walked hurriedly around the bed, picking up empty vials and setting them down on the other stool.
“You’ve handled worse, Flo. Come, just sit with me. Your presence is enough.”
She came and sat without hesitation.
A moment of quiet passed, where Florencia managed to calm her nerves, and I felt my mind untie its knots.
“I can’t believe it,” she mumbled, running her slim fingertips over the black scars. Her touch was so gentle and comforting that I could’ve fallen right back asleep if she continued. “The scars are also fading now. It’s almost as if you’re fine. Only this morning these lines were thick and deep in your skin. Now, they’re vanishing before my eyes.”
“Then it seems I have been given a new life. I shall not waste this gift.”
Florencia said nothing more and wrapped her arms around me. I put my arm over her waist and my left arm stiffly on her hip. She was very receptive and smelled wonderfully of sweet flowers, and her warmth filled my heart and mind.
“Master, your flame hardly left your side during this passage of time that seemed longer for us, on this side of the impassable veil. We almost lost you because of the foul poison Rasmog inflicted upon you. Did you see the demon fall after you dealt it that terrible blow? It might still be alive, but it has lost the favor of its lord, I am most certain of that. That demon will no longer cause us trouble.”
“Can we be sure of that, Goxhandar?”
“Nay, of that we may never be certain, but while you were struck down and brought low, I managed to perceive its power lessen and the empowerments of its lord taken away. That creature is no longer a threat to us, even if we confront it again. We have cause for celebration, for I feel there has taken place within you an unlocking. You will grow even more powerful from here on out. I feel your old strength return to your veins again. But Master, I must tell you that because of the foul curse of Rasmog, you fell very far and very deep. We are most fortunate that the Golden One and I managed to anchor your spirit in place until your body was healed.”
“The Golden One?”
“The one who you call Jace Vialisios. He has an innate understanding of the correlating harmony of the world of spirit and earth.”
As Goxhandar spoke those words, I heard a commotion behind the thick white curtains. Quickly Jace popped his head through the parted fabric and Florencia withdrew herself. She wiped her tears into her sleeve and sat down beside me.
“Jonas!” cried Jace excitedly before catching himself. “I can’t believe it! You’ve returned!”
He jumped forward, through the curtain wall, and drew them closed behind him. It became quickly apparent that it wasn’t just me who had undergone a transformation. Jace now stood with a straighter posture, and in his eyes burned, indeed, a golden light. Instead of the light-blue coat, he had on the white robes of the Temple with embroidered blue patterns, and on his neck hung proudly the Eye of Hanuk. And now he had intricate, black tattooed runes on his fingertips and on the back of his hands.
I was staring, and Jace noticed.
“Those?” Jace looked at his newly adorned hands. “I felt I needed a final push for the healing ritual to work, so I had these done.” He admired the new tattoos on his skin. “You were gone very deep and far, Jonas. The curse within you spread quickly and it went into places none of us knew how to reach. So we had to come up with a new method of treatment. Not the apothecaries or healers from the marshall or the baron, or even Rosalda herself knew how to extract or eject the spell, but they don’t understand the vital portion of the truth—they didn’t know it was inflicted by a demon.”
Jace exhaled tiredly.
“Luckily, you clung to life long enough for us to work out the cleansing ritual, but it was the most difficult thing I’ve ever done. Even with the help of Rosalda and your, um, protector.”
“You mean Goxhandar?”
Jace nodded and his face turned serious.”I can’t even comprehend how a being such as Goxhandar, can exist, but the proof is impossible to ignore. This just tells me how little I know of the possibilities of the world. Goxhandar was of immense help, even though our communication was… distant and distorted. With his help and Rosalda, we—”
“Jace,” said Florencia softly. “It was mostly your efforts. You locked yourself in Rosalda’s library for days without rest and barely any food to read the books.”
Jace casually dismissed Florencia’s compliments.
“That was the least I could do for Jonas. He showed me my true path, whether he knew it or not. And…” Jace looked around and lowered his voice to a whisper. “Rosalda’s library has countless volumes of ancient wisdom. At first, couldn’t even fathom how much the wise of the old ages knew and understood about how the material human body and psychic magic were entangled. Can you imagine that they had the entire body mapped out, in complicated systems of colors and symbols, correlated by some vague scriptures, and given hints on how they all work and complement each other? And because I knew it was a curse from a demon, I knew the cure had to be some kind of warding spell and ritual, so I just… combined all the different techniques into one single ritualistic spell, that used—”
“Jace!” said Florencia with the same softness. “I’m sure Jonas doesn’t need to know all of this right now.”
“I’m sorry,” laughed Jace. “Of course. I just wanted to share my excitement. I’m happy you’re well, Jonas. I see you’re healing quickly now, and that… you’re different now. I can’t place it. But please excuse me, I feel like you two need time in private. I will go and read that in the library. Florencia, you know where to find me.”
They nodded to each other, and Jace left. Florencia fell back on the bed and embraced me again.
“Flo, I think I can stand—” I said and tried getting up, but Florencia forcefully pushed me down on the bed with a playful smirk. It was very comfortable, and I felt a heavy sleep overtake me.
“You won’t go anywhere,” she declared. “I forbid it! You were already set on killing yourself along with Orsin, but you never once thought about how I would feel if you died. So you’ll stay here until I let you to leave. If you really remember the happy days we had in Cappesand, you’d know I mean it!”
And I did know she meant it.