Plague - 4

When I woke, it was not to the groans of the damned, nor to the fussing of those that had cared for me. Those that I had healed.

It was to the violent shaking, a wound that even I could feel. A stump that drove blood against my face. A coppery scent and blood tinged taste that paled my face.

I turned and immediately tackled the girl to the side. Bringing my hand to their face. Whispering sweet nothings. For I had no idea who they were.

I tried everything, all to ease their pain as my power went to work. Flushing their wounds onto mine.

My arm felt as if molten rods of lava, laced with spice poured down. Bringing an agonizingly great amount of pain. Pain that woke the others. Stirring their souls into action. Moving here and there.

Yet I could not focus on that. Merely muttering panicked and pain ridden sounds of comfort.

That everything would be "Alright~ Ever- Everything." I tried and tried again. Yet when the visions came.

Of resolve and fear, while the blade, coated in deadly poison passed through my gut. A face filled with a demonic red. An eye bulged to the surface, poisoning the mind with pain.

The poison working to paralyze my phantom body.

Yet even still the hand rose. Pulling forth a symphony of sounds that my mind could not contain. A bursting head, a demonic laugh.

A hand coated with lightning. Harnessing the very heavens to cut through the shoulder of my patient. Through my own.

Bringing another round of pain. Yet even still she fought through. A bravery that I could only watch on with awe.

And as suddenly as the pain came, so too did it dissipate. Sweat pouring its salty taste through my tongue. Heightening my senses and pulling me towards the girl.

Where with her newly recovered arm, with the awe of health, she was defenseless. I tackled her to the bed. Cuddling her close to me. Petting her rough hair, stained with coppery blood.

"All will be fine. Just… just rest." 

"Thank you" She muttered, resting her head against the pillow that I had used. Trying for my chest but it was too far. And by design as I was pulled from my healing and towards another.

"You are to leave with me." A voice drawled forth. Bringing with it a tug of force that brought me up and onto my feet.

And the others up in arms. Whispering tales of confidence and bravery. To those that could stand against the oppressors.

At least to their minds.

Eventually one came. Their hand landing over my shoulder, whispering a short lived speech. One about their intentions, about how they would not let me be taken.

I only smiled and shook my head.

"Leave me be. I'll come back. To heal all of you, no matter the…" I trailed off, seeing the souls rapidly pass into the distance. To the orbs that had once taken me in. Trailing over soft sheets as I was left on a sofa. Waiting for instructions. For orders that were to come.

"Gabriel." A voice spoke, one that shrunk my head. The one that I was supposed to be submissive towards. My new mother. Who had brought to being my wife.

"Yes, Mother?" I answered, trying to divine her intentions.

Yet even then she only pulled me forward, her hand upon my hair. Stroking it with a tenderness I had only felt through my own mother.

Then, and only after seconds, did I feel a slap echo through the room. Pain caused not by my own ability.

Enhanced by the strength of my new mother.

"You." She punctuated, rubbing her thumb over the wound she had caused, "You may be my new son, my own, but that does not mean that you may defy orders given so clearly."

I nodded, casting my hollow gaze to the ground. Yet I was forced to look up, my head gripped tightly in her hand.

"You may not be able to see, but that does not mean you can avert your gaze. You are hereby forbidden to leave this room. Books have been placed on the desk and Abigail will oversee your studies."

I nodded.

"Of course, you will not be disappointed."

"Good, I expect perfect results. You will be the top scorer, disability or not."

…

I nod my head, dusting my hand over page over page. The words flooding into my head. A touch to the artifact that had allowed this.

Devouring the knowledge in mere seconds. Yet that was not the end. As for every word, every sentence that I read. So too did another fade. 

It was frustrating yet at the same time it was freeing. For the first time in my life I had access to books. To knowledge without the overbearing presence of another. Trying to regulate my time. Take it upon themselves to entertain me.

Merely me and books. Dozens upon dozens of them. And as I turned to another, hand in hand with a pen. One that I used to write down answers, using newfound knowledge.

I could tell, with just a touch at the paper I wrote on, that I had not the best handwriting. Yet minute after minute, hour after hour.

It got better.

And as the door opened, creaking and blazing with the soul of my other. As she turned and sat next to me.

I felt her hand placed over my own. Pulling it against her breast in whence she took my whole body. Peppering kisses over my cheek. A sort of possessive pull that I couldn't refuse. 

"I have a gift, it- it may be a bit late. But I wanted to give this to you." She reached out her hand, placing a book in my hand.

I dusted my hand over the cover. Reading it. A tale of some romance, of some fantasy. Yet as I turned page after page, feeling my head placed against her own.

I was entranced, it was not the quality of the book, nor the subject. It was the story, the atmosphere. The thought that went into it.

A gift of my own. I smiled, leaning back and squeezing her hand. 

"Thank you, truly."