From the Brink

Garrick attempts to stand up, but his body trembles and refuses to listen to his command, as if it has given up on him. Although his healing factor has brought him back to peak physical health, his mental health can't heal the same way. Inside the deepest crevices of his mind a plague exists, slowly whittling him down and eating away who he is every day. However, Garrick refuses to accept that notion. With the little resolve left in his soul, he urges himself up, bared teeth like fangs, grip tight like a vice, and body tensed like a coil, like the rising dead, cursed to walk another day. Every step is a battle he has to win in the swirling mass of negative emotions that will eventually drown him from the inside. However, a lifeline appears In the form of a sparkle. Carefully trudging through the dark, he extends his scarred and runed arm as his fingertips touch a soft fabric, splay and sink into the gentle touch of new clothes. He lifts them to his nose and inhales as a calming scent of lilac permeates his senses before placing them back down again. 

With a small dose of newfound vigour, Garrick uses it to undress himself as he peels the old clothes from his body, like a snake shedding its skin. He tosses them into the darkness before reaching for his new attire. Slowly, he dresses himself, savouring the feel of the gentle fabric on his bare skin. It almost reminds him of a dainty woman's touch, an intimacy he hasn't basked in for some time now. After dressing himself, the buttons of his tunic glitter, even in the near pitch-blackness, as he moves over to the door, being jolted awake as he grips the cold metal knob. With a creaky turn, the door opens wide, revealing a blinding light that almost feels like walking into the afterlife. Instinctively, Garrick raises his arms to block the rays as his eyes adjust to the light. The light fades away, revealing two individuals, Meetle and Kyra, who are engrossed in their own bickering until they notice Garrick.

"It's about time you got your sorry ass outta bed, enjoying the dreams?" Kyra questions as Garrick emerges from the darkness in his new clothes. "wow, nifty clothes, you're clearly the Elves' favourite student."

"Odd, I thought your hair was red, not green." Garrick sarcastically grins, donning a fake face for his only friends.

"You do sound jealous, Kyra. I'll ask them to get you something, too." Meetle cheekily adds, covering his mouth as he snickers

Kyra looks at Garrick while pointing at Meetle. "This guy got real ballsy now he can do some fancy magic. I remember him crying like a baby in the woods back at Darow."

Meetle stops giggling as he turns and faces Kyra. "HEY! That was a very stressful moment! My arm was a complete mess!" He snaps back at Kyra as they begin bickering again, but not for long as a deep growling howl erupts from Garrick's stomach and the demand for food echoes throughout the Sanctum.

"We're busy arguing here, Garrick. Do you mind taking that hunger elsewhere?" Kyra sarcastically snips as she kicks Meetle.

"Good timing on the hunger, Garrick. I've been simmering food for a while, so it's bound to be ready real soon." Meetle cheerily voices as he summons a tiny fireball from his magic arm, igniting the trousers of Kyra and sprints to the kitchen chamber.

"Little fucker, you're dead!" Kyra shouts as she attempts to chase Meetle while patting out the fire. All the while, Garrick stood by himself, watching the morning entertainment. Shaking his head slightly, Garrick lets out a small chuckle and slowly walks after them as they both run with energy on the smooth stone floor. Meetle's quickly panicked, patters and Kyra's large noisy bounds.

Garrick enters the kitchen where Meetle stands on the other end of a bubbling pot to Kyra with a metal ladle in hand as he points it shakily at her.

"Stay back, don't mess around near the soup!" Meetle begs as he shuffles around it, staying away from Kyra, who is swiping at him.

"Move away from it then, or I'll add you to it!" Kyra fires back with a crazed look in her eye as she continues lunging with a small hole in her now charred leather trousers.

Garrick watches in amusement as he steps further into the kitchen, where he is stopped dead in his tracks. A familiar aroma circulates his body as the wafting scent from the pot reaches him, causing a swell of emotions within him causing him to tear up, bringing the attention of the bickering Kyra and Meetle again.

"Are you...crying?" Kyra steps toward Garrick and squints, forgetting her argument with Meetle.

 "I'm sorry, Garrick. I was just messing around." Meetle lowers his ladle with sadness, thinking he caused Garrick to be upset.

Garrick sniffles and continues to cry, his throat closing up as he waves his hands across his body, trying to convey that it's not Meetle's fault. Finally, after a few uncomfortable moments, Garrick manages to gather his composure and reply.

"It's not you, Meetle. It's just that food...it reminds me of home." Garrick quietly utters, a small sorrowful smile on his face.

After noticing the delicate situation, Kyra decides to take a different approach to her usual self.

"Take a seat then, I'll get us a bowl each...and wipe your nose. You're getting snotter all down your new clothes!" 

Well, slightly different.

Garrick sits and wipes his face with his tunic sleeve, now dirtied with snot and tears. Kyra snatches the ladle from Meetle and fills the bowls to the brim while shooing him away as he quickly patters over beside Garrick and hops up on his seat, eager for breakfast. With little worry about spilling, Kyra dumps the bowls down, causing the hot soup to splash up in the air before diving back down and settling in the bowl. Kyra turns around to grab spoons, but before she even takes a step, the symphony of slurping begins as Garrick and Meetle have disregarded the spoons, picked up their bowls and tipped them into their mouths with sloppy passion before slamming them down in unison seconds later finishing their meal with a joint burp.

"Seconds, I'm guessing?" With raised eyebrows, Kyra stares at the two, whose mouths are painted in the splendid soup.

They both look at each other before nodding sheepishly in Kyra's direction.

"Well, give me them then! I want to eat too, y'know!" Kyra shouts with a laugh as she grabs the bowls, piling them high once more and finally joins them at the table as they chat and enjoy each other's company for longer than expected, but time flies by as laughter and good times fill the room. Meetlemire rubs his bulging belly as he strenuously gaps for air, having eaten more than his fill.

"You pregnant there, Meetle?" Kyra jests as she pokes Meetle's stomach with her spoon, who can only lazily move his arm in defence, unable to speak after the gargantuan breakfast. At the same time, Garrick nods to himself, gaining Kyra's attention.

"What you nodding for?"

 "I've decided."

"Hmm? On what exactly?"

"By the day's end, I promise you both, on all that I am, that I'll use magic!" Garrick confidently utters as he slams his fist on the table and stands up. Kyra nods in acknowledgement, and Meetle, practically comatose, gives a supporting thumbs up.

End chapter