Healer of Sakkara

Chapter 9 - Revelations

Zenír drifted. A deep peace filled his mind and his body felt light as air, as if he floated upon a tranquil sea. With the idleness with which one might speculate upon the weather, he wondered if he had died.

The thought did not trouble him; if this was death, it was not unpleasant.

He longed for such rest — to shed all worries, cares, and guilt as a butterfly sheds its cocoon, and embrace eternal stillness without regrets.

Well, almost without regrets. Two remained, and teased the corners of his consciousness with the relentless insistence of a sound that cannot be ignored. The first was that he had not told Korim what he had seen, and the second was Iksthanis.

The loss of his life would not grieve him, but Iksthanis would surely take it hard, and the last thing Zenír wished was to cause more pain. His mere existence had caused enough already.

As if summoned by these thoughts, angry voices intruded upon his mind, and he found himself drawn back to a less comfortable consciousness. Recognizing the voices as belonging to Korim and Iksthanis, he understood the truth: he was not dead, after all; he had merely fainted.

"What have you done, old man?" Iksthanis demanded, a mix of anger and fear roughening his deep tones. "I swear by the gods, if you've hurt him—"

"I have not done anysing!" Korim protested. "He was reading ze wall and zen he just... fell over! I called for help, and you appeared. What were you doing, anyway? Lurking in ze hallway like a spy!"

"I wasn't lurking," Iksthanis snapped. "I was looking for Zen. I hadn't seen him since breakfast and—"

"Thanis, stop shouting," Zenír murmured, now fully awake and aware. He lay half in the larger man's arms and made an effort to sit up. "I'm fine."

"Zen! Hey, easy now. Are you hurt?" Iksthanis pressed a hand to Zenír's brow and the side of his face, and felt beneath his jaw for a pulse.

Zenír pushed his hand away. "I said I'm fine. Just a little lightheaded."

"Ah, so you were simply taking a little nap on the floor, then?" Iksthanis said sardonically, still refusing to let him sit up.

"What happened, my friend?" Korim asked in a gentler tone as he came to kneel at his side. "Is zis some effect of your sight? I wish you had warned me, if so."

"Sight? What is he talking about, Zen?" Iksthanis asked.

Zenír grimaced. "I used my second sight to help me interpret the Dweller writings. It worked better than I expected."

"Did it?" Korim's voice rose with excitement. "What did you see?"

Ignoring him, Iksthanis asked, "It drained you, like what happens to Galen? I did not know your gift was so potent."

"It isn't," Zenír admitted. "Usually, it has little effect, but I think the wall is meant to be read in such a way. It's as if it was... waiting for me. For someone like me, at least. Even a small set of markings contains vast amounts of knowledge. I was unprepared to receive it. And..."

He bit his lip. He knew well enough what had happened. He also knew Iksthanis wouldn't like it, but if he hoped to read the wall again, he'd have to tell the truth.

"We worked through the midday meal," he said, "and... I did not eat much at breakfast."

Iksthanis was silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke his voice had the tense, forced calmness it did when he was trying to keep his temper in check.

"So, what you are telling me is that you fainted because you overworked yourself and you haven't eaten all day," he stated.

"Well... yes, but—" Zenír yelped as he was lifted in arms as thick as most men's thighs and carried bodily down the hall. "Thanis! What are you doing!?"