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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 

Broadswords - 29. The Recovery

Broadswords


Chapter Twenty-Nine
The Recovery


When Elan came to, he was instantly aware of the pounding in his head and the absolute dryness in his mouth. He couldn't be sure which was worse. He'd never had a headache as excruciating, but he'd also never experienced such a feeling of dehydration.

He made to say something, but what came out was indecipherable. His ears were in fine working order, and even he didn't know what he'd attempted to utter. His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth and he began to panic. He couldn't swallow and he feared he would choke. But before he fell too far into his fright, he felt a steady flow of water pass down his throat.

Though his vision was out of sorts, he could see that a figure had appeared before him and was holding a cup to his lips. "We'd started to worry that you weren't going to wake up," the man said, holding Elan's head steady as he poured the entirety of the container into his parched mouth. "We tried to keep you as hydrated as possible, but your body seemed to reject it. Whatever caused that hole in your hand seemed to do quite a number on you."

He didn't try to speak again yet, instead indulging in the sudden relief that was overcoming him. Never before had he appreciated a drink of water as he did in that moment. He still felt out of it, but the reactivation of his salivary glands was nearly overwhelming. It almost even made him forget about the pulsing at his temples.

And as if reading his mind, the voice continued. "You'll certainly have a monster of a headache. We weren't able to administer the normal medications, since your throat wasn't in proper working order. Now that we've at least lubricated it a little, take this."

Not that he would have objected, but a collection of leaves was thrust into his mouth before he knew what was happening. They were dry, too, but not as much as his throat had been moments ago. He forced himself to swallow whatever it was, though it was bitter.

"Greens from the Hojus plant. One of man's best remedies for a splitting skull."

Elan had never been one for medicinal methods of overcoming any feelings of imperfection. Alcohol and sex had always been just fine at curing things like headaches, hangovers, and even wounds of war. But in the given moment, he would have taken just about anything to relieve him of the pain he felt. And the Hojus plant, whatever it was, seemed to be doing the trick. It wasn't an immediate relief, but it appeared to be easing the tension in his head.

Indeed, his eyesight slowly began to clear up and he was able to decipher his surroundings. He didn't know which room he was in, but it was obvious that he was in the castle. The décor and the size of the room spoke to that. Whoever else was in there with him had stepped away after providing the remedy to his pain, but eventually came back into his line of sight.

He was an older man, clad in the drab robes worn by apothecaries. The only difference in his linens from a standard apothecary was the band of red that lined the hems, confirming that he was employed by the royal family. Aside from that, there was nothing especially distinctive about him. Elan wouldn't have took notice of him in a crowd. But at that moment, he was his favorite person.

"Try to relax," the apothecary said. "You lost an immense amount of blood. I have to say, in my years in this profession, I've never seen anything like it. At least, not from anyone that lived to tell about it. Whatever it was that happened to you, though, it's different from anything I've ever seen. Your blood seems to be replenishing itself at a much rapider pace than normal."

Elan tried to take in everything that the apothecary was saying, but between his disorientation and his desire to get out of the bed, he wasn't making sense of it all. He just knew that he couldn't be cooped up here. He needed to get back to the cave. "How long have I been here?" he managed to ask, but he immediately regretted it. A burning sensation shot down his throat, negating the relief he had just begun to feel.

"Easy, son," the apothecary said, steadying Elan on the bed. "Don't try to talk just yet. You need to let your body recover. As I said, you are certainly recuperating much faster than we could have ever expected, but you're going to require at least a couple weeks before you're going to be ready to do anything."

The very thought of it infuriated Elan. There was no way he could stay cooped up for a day, let alone a few weeks. Besides the likelihood that he would go stir crazy if there wasn't anything particularly exciting going on, the kingdom was at the brink of a major dragon attack. He couldn't sit idly by while that occurred.

"To answer your question, the guards brought you in six days ago. They mentioned that a slightly portly fellow delivered you to the gates. I daresay that whoever he is, you have him to thank for the fact that you're still alive. I, also, would like to thank him. And to speak with him in general. I need to know more about what happened to you, and I can't risk having you go into detail explaining this to me or else it might have adverse effects on your health. I need to know who this savior of yours is, so I can bring him in here to help us figure this thing out. What's his name, now? Ah! No, no. Don't speak. Here, write it down. We'll have him brought in."

The apothecary handed Elan a scrap of parchment and a quill, and he hesitantly wrote Kep in his untidy scrawl. He didn't particularly want it brought up that he'd been using a clearly dangerous weapon that had caused all of this, and he especially didn't want to be the subject of any scrutiny by the royal family. However, he could also tell that it wasn't going to do him any good to fight it. And maybe if he cooperated, they'd let him out of there so that he could put a stop to the dragons. He added innkeeper to the paper, figuring it would help them locate Kep faster.

He handed the parchment to the old man, irritated that it had come to this. He really just wanted to tell him that they didn't have time for this and that they needed to act now. However, bringing Kep in might be the only real way to do so. And in all truthfulness, he had actually begun to grow fond of Kep. He didn't see that kind of heart in many people he knew, and especially not from someone that didn't really have the means to do something about the situation that the kingdom was in.

At the very least, he could have Kep connect with his squire to get the ball rolling. If he was truly going to be incapacitated and unable to fight this battle himself, he could make sure that the few people he trusted were going to resolve this. With Daegon and Birten missing in action, there weren't a whole lot of options. There were certainly the other two slayers that had higher rankings than Daegon, but most of that was due to their tenure in the field. Daegon and his squire were another two that really had what it took to succeed in this world and who he actually felt were capable of accomplishing great things.

He was glad that nobody could read his thoughts, because his sudden wave of sincerity was even surprising him. The apothecary took the scrap of parchment and left the room. Though the thought crossed his mind, Elan didn't even bother trying to see if he could make an escape because he knew there were likely a plethora of guards outside of the door. He just hoped that they found Kep quickly and that a motion would be put into place soon to resolve the issue at hand.


A few hours later, the kingsmen had already located Kep and had brought him to the castle. The apothecary informed Elan that the innkeep was currently being questioned by the king and the eldest two princes.

Elan wanted to tell him that Kep shouldn't be interrogated, to treat him with some decency. But he knew that he shouldn't speak, and even if he did advise of such, it would fall on deaf ears. All he could do was wait.

Before long, however, Kep was escorted into Elan's room. An immediate look of relief crossed over Kep's face, and he was instantly at Elan's side. "You're okay! I was so worried," Kep said, settling into a chair next to the bed. His beard, which had been tidily groomed the last time Elan had seen him, was now unkempt. But his eyes were the same.

Elan smiled weakly, glad to see that Kep didn't seem to have been overly harassed by the royal family. He wanted to ask him how it went, but there was no point causing the burning sensation in his throat again. In any event, Kep leapt right into the details of the exchange.

"The king, and princes Caebe and Harmon, they wanted to know what happened. After I dropped you off, I went and saw an old friend who has a great deal of knowledge about weaponry. He was well aware of the Sanguistis, and he gave me a lot of information which I was able to pass along to the king. Elan… you're incredibly lucky. Weapons of that nature have destroyed countless men. Most of those who've been in contact with them never recovered."

Kep reached out and placed his hand on Elan's, concern in his eyes. Elan winced; it was his dagger-wielding hand. Though a thick layer of gauze bound it tightly, the sensitivity was still there.

"I'm so sorry!" Kep said, pulling his hand back immediately. "I'm such an idiot, I'm sorry."

Elan watched as Kep sat there sheepishly. "Thank you," the slayer whispered. The pain seared his throat again, but he didn't care. Kep needed to hear those words. Without him, he could have suffered a very pathetic end as the result of his arrogance.

Though he didn't respond, Elan could tell Kep appreciated hearing the words. They sat there quietly for a while. If Elan was right about when the dragons would truly become a threat, they had just over two weeks to finally get a plan together. But he did something that was very unlike him: he allowed himself to relax for a moment and enjoy the silence.

Copyright © 2018 Disjecta Membra; All Rights Reserved.
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
Note: While authors are asked to place warnings on their stories for some moderated content, everyone has different thresholds, and it is your responsibility as a reader to avoid stories or stop reading if something bothers you. 
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Nothing like a brush with death caused by your own arrogance to give you some humility.

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