1:12 P.M. 5/26/917

He saw glimpses, brief flashes, of something, or someone. Like memories that weren’t his own. Like emotions he had never experienced. He felt nothing. He heard nothing. Only visions of distant moments, disconnected from reality.

One minute, it was the forest: still and quiet.

The next, it was Soren: worried, running off to somewhere. 

Then, Charlie: panicked and somber.

He faded in and out of consciousness for a while. He had no sense of how much time had passed. Then, everything went dark.

11:37 P.M. 6/1/917

He felt warmth surrounding him. His hand slowly moved across the silk spread out beneath him, feeling his fingertips glide over the tightly woven fibers. He felt a cotton sheet laid out on top of him. He heard very faint rustling from somewhere that felt far away from wherever his mind was. Each sensation came slowly. Then, he jolted awake, suddenly entirely aware of his surroundings.

The corners of his eyes were damp with tears. He wanted to believe what he remembered had been a dream, but the bandages around his neck proved otherwise. He tried to sit up slowly, but pain surged in his neck. He winced and tried to bear it, but gave up and slumped back into the bed.

He glanced around the room, taking in his surroundings, though the room was incredibly dim. He glanced at the only source of light in the room, the window, allowing a small bit of moonlight to peek through the curtains. In the shadows, he could vaguely make out the silhouette of a doorframe and a small desk in the corner of the room. He lay in the darkness, unable to move, for the pain he felt was too great. He tried to call out to anyone who might be nearby, but he couldn’t manage even a whisper.

He heard the door creak open. When he looked, he saw nothing but a dark figure emerging from the shadow.

“Oh! You’re up!” Light flooded the room. It was Soren, a small flame floating above his hand. He lit a few candles that were sitting on the desk and put the flame out. 

“How are you?” He asked in a gentle tone, one Ethan had never heard him use before.

Ethan tried to respond, but what came out instead was a horrible, scratchy noise. Soren knelt by the bed and pulled a notepad and pencil out of a nearby drawer.

“Here.”

Ethan grabbed them and began writing, almost frantically.

Where am I? What happened?

“Well, you’re in my guest bedroom. I would've taken you to the healing guild in town, but Charlie insisted you stay here. I helped as much as I could. As for what happened… I was hoping you would know.”

How long? 

“Oh, uhm. You’ve been fading in and out for… A few days.” Ethan’s eyes widened in surprise. He quickly sat up. “Hey, be careful! You’re still hurt.”

Ethan relaxed his shoulders and put his hand on his neck. He ran his fingers over the layers of linen covering the wound. After a moment, he began writing again.

How is Charlie?

Soren smiled gently.

“He was very worried about you. He’ll be thrilled to know you’re okay.” The room fell into silence for a moment. “Oh! Is there anything you need? You’ve been out for a while. Are you… Hungry or anything?” Ethan thought for a moment.

I don't know. I’m just tired. 

“Well, just try to get some rest then. We can talk more in the morning, alright?”

Ethan nodded and set the notepad on the table next to him. Soren slowly stood from where he knelt by the bed. He put out the candles and left the room. The door creaked closed and clicked into place. Ethan was once again left alone in the dark.

He gently closed his eyes and tried to rest, but despite his eyes burning for sleep, he had far too much running through his mind: The avian that nearly killed him, and why.  Him trying to justify in his mind why he had released it. What would happen to him because of it?

He eventually relaxed enough to get some sleep, but only after hours of restlessness.