Bodies were overturned and set into piles by race. Some daerions still drew breath but were swiftly silenced by the men.
"Here he is!" Etherond shouted.
Starlyn turned around and rushed to where Etherond moved around carcasses. She helped him pull Searon out from under a large daerion that was atop him. They carried him to a clearing and set him down. She pulled off his crimson-and-gold helm. Dried blood streaked down both sides of his face. His dark-brown hair was died red, and Etherond lifted him to a sitting position. Starlyn looked at the back of his head where there was a large gash. He wasn't bleeding anymore, but a lot of blood had been lost. She took off his gauntlets and felt his wrist with her fingers.
"Is he alive?" Etherond asked.
"His pulse is very slow, but yes, he is still alive," Starlyn said.
"That's good." Etherond was relieved.
"Help me, we must get him to Sudegam, fast," Starlyn said.
Chapter 44
S
earon awoke with his chest bare and a searing pain that traveled up his spine. His eyes opened and were nearly blinded at the brightness of the white room. He lay upon a bed with his head propped atop soft pillows and red-stained white sheets that he knew came from his wound. Dizziness overtook him when he tried to sit up, and that caused him to fall back to his pillow and made him want to curl up in a ball from pain if he only could. A glass of cold water seemed to shine in his peripheral vision that had him grasping for it in a heartbeat. Thankfully, his arms worked well enough for him to grab the water and take a few sips before the rest spilled all over him. His dizziness began to fade as he set the glass back on the white table next to him upside-down.
The door cracked opened, and a beautiful brunette kheshlar wearing white robes entered the room. She stalked up to Searon and gazed at him with sparkling silver-emerald eyes. Concern masked her face as she sat at a stool next to him and felt his forehead with her palm. Her skin was different than the other kheshlars; it was a pale green instead of blue.
"How are you feeling?" she asked.
Entranced. Mesmerized. He began to wonder for a moment if he was dead, and this was the paradise realm of the creator.
"A bit…dizzy,” he confessed.
"That is to be expected.” She came up to the bed and sat next to him as she checked his bandages.
He watched her carefully as she inspected his wounds. Most were minor, but dried blood scarred most of his arms and face with a few on his chest. Her eyes wandered across his half-naked body for any other wounds she might have missed.
"What is your name?" Searon asked.
"Anaela,” she shared, slightly smiling.
She unraveled the bandage from his head and cringed as the cloth fell. Her fingers moved to his chest where she pulled the cloth off next to expose black-and-purple bruises. He looked down and shook his head as he saw what shape he was in. Anaela ran her fingers over his chest, and he sucked in his breath to mask the pain. She pushed with her fingers at certain spots on his flesh that nearly had him wailing in pain. Her hands abruptly shot back, and she bit her lip as she looked down at him with concern.
"Don't stop," Searon whispered.
Her touch had felt divine against his bare skin, and he craved it despite the intense pain that it caused; it was worth having her soft skin upon him. He began to wonder what it would be like to have her hands travel the distance of his body, but he quickly shook his head to dismiss the notion.
She grinned as she secured his wounds back in bandages, careful not to hurt him. His eyes held hers in a long moment that seemed frozen by time. Her grin turned to a halfhearted smile as she studied him. It no longer appeared as if she were studying his wounds, but his appearance overall. He remembered doing the same the first he saw the kheshlars and wondered if this woman had ever seen a human. Her eyes lingered on his muscles, and her cheeks reddened before she turned away.
"You need to keep these bandages on for another week," Anaela blurted toward the empty glass of water.
"How long have I been out?" Searon rubbed his eyes with a yawn.
"Five days.”
Five days of no memories. He shivered as he thought about it. He wondered if she had been there taking care of him for the past several days. Soon, his mind wandered to his companions, and he wondered if everybody was all right. Shivers drenched his body with chill bumps to match.
"Wow,” he whispered.
He gazed around and noticed crushed herbs and vials of colorful liquids on a desk at the far side of the room and gaped. There were so many potions and herbal remedies, some of which he recognized from when Starlyn had him picking plants and flowers with her for healing Andron. His attention shifted back to the kheshlar, who studied him carefully. Her ears were rounder than the other kheshlars but still had a sharp tip, and her eyebrows weren’t as silver as other kheshlars.
"Are you a healer?"
"More so than other kheshlars. I cannot explain it, but I somehow know more about the plants. They call to me and tell me how to use them. Your injuries...I did not think they could be healed, but Starlyn was insistent that I cure you."
"Starlyn, she is well?"
"Yes. It was she who brought you aid. She asked me to help, and I am here. But now I must leave."
She stalked to the door with a hand on its handle before turning back to Searon with a long face and pursed lips. Her breathing slowed but deepened, and she bit her lip. Searon shifted to sit up as he admired her beauty.
"Don't go,” he pleaded.
His mind clouded in a mist of pain, confusion, and happiness. He didn't understand the emotions, but for the first time his internal time clock no longer ticked. No longer did he remember how many days and hours it had been since his wife and child had been slaughtered. He mourned for them terribly, but they did not dominate his thoughts anymore. A great pressure that always kept his mind compressed felt lifted from him, like a burden that he could barely handle had been given to another. The memory of his wife and son would be treasured forever, but the sorrow and constant grief seemed to flow out of him, and made him a free man. He didn't understand it but felt without a doubt that they were connected with this woman before him. Whether it was her healing remedies or something deeper, he was unsure.
She blushed. "You have a visitor who wishes to see you."
Her heart pounded through her chest, and she clenched her fists as she touched the door handle. She dared not turn around to face Searon, but he needed no confirmation from her with his excellent hearing and close attention to detail. He smiled as she left.
The door opened almost instantly after she disappeared, with Karceoles striding in. He paused, turning back as if studying something peculiar before entering the room. His zylek held stiff in his hand as he steadied his walking with it until he could sit at the stool next to Searon's bed.
Karceoles frowned as he looked at Searon from head to toe. "You look like two draeyks were playing lizard in the loop with you."
"Lizard in the loop?" Searon asked.
"Like monkey in the middle, except if the middle lizard catches you, you get eaten."
Searon grinned despite himself. "I'm a bit dizzy, but it's getting better."
"That's good,” Karceoles said.
"How about you?"
He studied the wizard, who seemed to be in a lot better shape than Searon. No external damage appeared on his skin from bruises or frostbite. A lot better than it could have been had he been chopped into a thousand chunks of ice over the battlefield. The thought of losing the wizard surprisingly terrified Searon. He knew it would be peaceful at first without the massive amount of sarcasm and recklessness, but overall the wizard had been helpful. Even if some of his ideas were stupid, they did always work.
"I am doing well, now that the frostbite went away,” Karceoles admitted.
"Ah...frostbite...good times. So tell me, how do you like your payback?" Searon smirked.
"Ha, ha. I left you relatively healthy when I froze you. It is not quite the same."
"And yet I feel so much better knowing that you have gone through the preservation process."
Searon attempted to rise, but his strength failed him, and he caved back into the pillow behind his head. Karceoles rose and attempted to aid him, but after a moment’s consideration Searon shook his head.
"No, I need to build my own strength."
"There is a celebration tonight, if you feel like attending," Karceoles encouraged.
"That sounds better than being trapped in this bloody room all day," Searon chuckled.
Karceoles strolled to the armoire and opened the doors carefully to display clothes ranging from robes to cotton shirts to brown breeches to and light leather armor.
"That kheshlar that was in here, Anaela, she is very beautiful," Searon admitted.
"Do not get any ideas, Searon; you do realize that she is way out of your league. Now I may have a chance, but you aren't even in the same realm of my awesomeness,” Karceoles grinned.
"Now, we'll just have to see about that, won't we?" Searon smirked, finally getting to his feet and limping over to the wardrobe to peruse.
* * *
Later that night, Searon strode into the commotion in a long-sleeve shirt and dark-red vest. Everywhere around him were kheshlars drinking wine and men drinking ale. A collection of kheshlars played lovely music with a quartet of string instruments, some of which Searon recognized. He made small talk with a few of the kheshlars and humans as he walked around and let everybody know that he was feeling better. His leg was still bothering him from the fall, but it hardly showed with a slight limp as he enjoyed the celebration.
Anaela stood alone near the orchestra, swaying back and forth to the beat of the instruments. She wore a dark-green dress cut low on her lower back just above her hips where her soft skin was exposed before it traveled all the way down to her sandals. Her straight hair hung just below her shoulders, tied at the top with a green ribbon. Most kheshlars kept their hair longer, but Searon liked hers, as it was not too long or too short.
He walked up to her as she turned to face him and blushed. Her features seemed to light up, highlighting her freckles that were adorable upon her innocent face. The same feeling overcame him as the last he'd been in her presence, and he didn't understand it. He'd never felt nervous around someone, and now it seemed his heart raced at a pace to match a sprinting horse. It seemed he was finally able to accept that Victoria was gone, and he could never be with her again until after death, if the creator chose to be nice to him. He'd never considered looking for another, but now that Anaela stood in front of him, he became entranced by her beauty and character.
He barely knew the kheshlar and didn't know why his feelings about her were so strong. All that he knew was that he hoped to get to know her better. She seemed innocent, sincere, polite, friendly, and intelligent. The most intoxicating part about her, though, was her smile. That was odd for Searon, as he usually noticed lips or hair first, and although he did notice her soft glittery lips and perfectly straight hair, her smile was what entranced him. He shook his head in an attempt to dismiss such thoughts.
"Hello, guest of honor,” she smiled.
"May I have this dance?" Searon held his hand out.
Her face reddened, and she stepped back. She seemed to ponder the thought of dancing with him and blushed even deeper before a shiver traveled up her. Her gaze left his, and she looked at the ground, biting her lip.
"I shouldn't,” she paused. "Nobody else is dancing."
"Let us be the first," Searon smirked.
He knew that she was interested, but scared, and he wasn't sure if it was because she was embarrassed or worried about what the other kheshlars would think. She was still mysterious to him and differed from all the other kheshlars with darker hue and shorter ears. He hoped he could bring her out of her shell and learn more about her.
"I do not know,” she protested.
"I'm the guest of honor, correct?"
"Correct."
"If that is so…then I should be granted a request."
"True."
"I request that I have this dance, with you,” he smirked.
"All right, but only one,” she said, defeated.
He reached for her right hand and placed his other on the small of her back. Her body shivered with chill bumps as he brought her close enough to smell the melon scent of her hair. At first, he began slow, leading her through the rhythm of notes with grace, but he picked up the pace by spinning her and twirling her around him. The kheshlars with instruments seemed so thrilled by the display of dancing to their music that they began to step up the pace. Soon, more and more people, both men and kheshlars alike, came over toward the orchestra to dance. Many smiled and cheered for Searon and Anaela, disbelief in their eyes at his skill.
A magical feeling came across Searon as he danced with her. Together, they held such perfect form, and felt like they'd been dancing partners for centuries. Both seemed to know what the other would do next. He studied her face as they danced and was pleased to see her relaxed and loose. Her face lit up in red heat, and she giggled as they moved from left to right, front to back. No longer was her face serious as if afraid to get involved with a troublemaker named fun. Searon smiled as he realized that it was the most pleasure he'd had in a very long time. The war wasn't on his mind; he did not contemplate what to do next, but ceased in the moment. Passion overwhelmed him. How long had it been since he gave into passion? For once, he lived in the moment, and he loved it.
Anaela's eyes closed as the song neared its end. Searon brought her in close until her head rested upon his shoulder, where they held each other until the melody faded. She continued to hum the tune under her breath, and he continued to sway her with the beat she chose for several long moments before leading her away from the crowd, still holding her hand.
Another song began as they left, and nobody bothered to pay them any heed as they walked through some bushes to stand before a lone fountain. He led her a bit farther into the clearing, where the moon shone brightly in the sky, before helping her down on the ground. Together, they lay on their backs and stared up at the stars.