9 Eyes God [on-going]

EIGHT

Chapter 8 // Recovering
[ATHANE]

"There are only two known Royals in the Special Force. One is Captain Silvermoon in Squad 1, and another is Lady Alana Silvermoon who is a sergeant in Squad 3."

The author would like to describe today's surroundings. 4 white walls enclosed to each other, a stark contrast to the murky green mattress of the bed Athane currently sat on. It was an uncomfortable fit, it was way too sturdy. There could be a metal board plastered on the bottom layer of the futon.

Of course Athane would blame that, it made his back ache. There was also a large window taking its place beside him, letting in the warm ray of the afternoon sun, illuminating the room just right. The was a lingering scent of disinfectant, slowly turning pungent as soon as his nose detected it.

However, the author decides it is too bland. Which is why Athane is vigorously shaking the metal frame of the bed, eyes trained like hawk to the old doctor who was cornered to the wall like a mouse. Athane is furious. He had asked the same question over and over, only to be dismissed by the doctor's words to rest. The metal in his grip began to creak, the object dented under his hold.

Should a broken piece of metal shoved down the old man's neck get him any answers?

Looking back at the old man, he felt a yes would suffice.

"Sir, I advice you to take this slow-"

"Im asking where he is doc, is too much to ask?!"

"not like this sir, you are threatening my safety!" The doctor croaked out. He placed a shaky palm to his chest, trying to stabilize the rapid thumps of his heart. "I am a doctor, Mr. Vantreopa, Im telling you to calm down!"

The Doctor studied the blue haired male, a final look in his eyes as he considered his decision. It will be hard for the Inspector to really understand. The look of fire, a scalding touch to what used to be a gentle smile gracing Athane's face, all vanished as he waited for the doctor to explain.

The man took a deep breath as soon as Athane's grip on the frame flattered. "It was the Guard himself who alerted us on your location Sir. It was him who saved you. If we were late by a minute, there's no possibility of saving you."

"great! You are avoiding the question!"

"Mr. Vantreopa, do you not remember?" The doctor questioned. He had gathered enough confidence to step close to his patient, and placed a gentle palm on his shoulders, easing him to rest. "That boy, Junior Guard Browne... he is a monste—"

Anger laced Athane's features, "what are you talking about?"

"Guard Browne stabbed you four times before fleeing the scene."

His breathing halted, jaw going slack as he tried to understand. He could feel his lips moving, telling the Doctor how impossible that is. However, his hearing started to muffle. It felt like he was separated from his body at the Doctor's words. "No.. There's no way! I know that kid, he would never do such thing!"

His vision began to tunnel and worsened. There's absolutely no way the kid would do such things. He kept saying. There is absolutely no way!

However, he felt a tear making its way down to his chin, as his hands felt the bandage pressing against his abdomen, the rough texture bringing him back to reality. The world had forced its full weight onto Athane. His breathing was heavy, even imagining the kind young officer doing that— He shook away those evil thoughts.

"Im asking you where he is Doctor, that is an orde—"

The door to the room slid open, the harsh clang alerting the two occupants of a new presence.

It was Lewis. He had cast for his arm and a small band-aid pasted on his forehead. On his face was a tight grimace as he glanced at the tight grip Athane had on the frightened doctor. "hands off him Athane. He is just doing his job."

He turn to the doctor, a knowing look that had the man nodding before scurrying off and shutting the door behind him.

"why are you here?"

"how rude of you to tell your senior off like that, Athane." Lewis sat on a vacant green chair right next to Athane's bed, the years of use imprinting itself on the discoloured fabric of the seat.

"You were asleep for 2 days, Athane. Whatever the hell we fought that nigh—" he stopped, glancing at the younger male who was trying to discreetly wipe away his tears. "I told you not to be so soft on the Juniors Athane..."

"did we win?"

"avoiding the question, aren't we?"

"its not—Im just..."

Lewis waited, a small smile on his face as he watch Athane explode with tears freely streaming down his face. "you are hopeless, Young Athane... oh god, the snot! Wipe it away!"

+++++

Athane had calmed down after a few minutes, actively ignoring Lewis who waved a tissue up in his face.

"Athane, you have to wipe that away!"

"that's the least of my worries Lewis."

"you are a hopeless man, Athan—"

"will you stop insulting me like that?"

"not until you get this through!" Lewis abruptly stood up, jabbing his uncasted hand onto the younger's forehead. "you are not to do this alone!!"

Athane was left with a red bright mark, angry at the vicious knock by his senior. "what are you trying to s—"

"oh believe me, I spent 5 years training you young man. I know exactly what im talking about. You don't want to admit it, but its eats me up alive as much as it does to you too!" he exclaimed, "and Im gonna say it! The things you don't want to hear!"

"that's no what Im thinking of Lewis.." Athane interrupted, "Im thinking of... giving them a chance."

"so you weren't thinking of burdens...?"

"not exactly." Athane scowled, waving away his Senior's incoming speech. If Lewis started talking now, there would be no end. The last time it happened, they were 2 hours late for an important meeting and the man had enough of being ostracized by his senior's actions.

"Im thinking about... a chance to feel accomplished in life." He said, "Back then when you recruited me, I wasn't even the best. And still, you trained me, until I reached my highest potential."

His eyes fell to his enclosed palm, knowing the scar was still there. A large jagged path of a discoloured scar erupting from his thumb to his pinky finger. "It's like a fever. The feeling of victory, the process of achieving it, the feeling you get right after..... It made me feel alive. Juniors who are aspired will ride with that fever... just like I did, back then."

"fever? Huh?" The senior questioned. "how unrealistic"

"it made me feel alive somehow. It kept me... alive."

"forcing happiness on others? That's not something that I've taught."

Athane caught himself, the realization dawning on him at what his fever, really meant. "but wait—"

"I have a meeting to attend, Young man. While you can go ahead and drown in that fever of yours, I need you to run me an errand!" Lewis stood up, patting his jacket, smirking as he found what he was searching for.

Athane frowned at the piece of paper handed to him. There was also an object wrapped in a piece of cloth placed on the table. "these are 2 things..."

"exactly." He answered, twisting in his little dance step before exiting the room.