The Prophecy of Life

Chapter 3

A stared at the man, blinking my eyes. Sand. He was sand. For some reason I wasn't screaming. I stared.
Sand.
I wasnt aware of when I got up. I just knew I was running. Running. Non-stop.
Sand.
Bits of it-or more likely, him- clung to my hair my clothes. Some in my mouth. Some going down my throat. But I couldn't stop and retch. I just kept running, despite the churning in my stomach.

I opened the door that led into the palace and ran. I didn't even know where I was going. Just running.
Finally I could run no more. I crumpled down on the floor. Voices asked me questions-had I been hurt, was I okay, do I know how many there are, where was the princess- but I couldn't answer for the life of me. My minds eye was flipping through pictures, watching a video of what just happened, re-assessing emotions. The man had turned to sand! Sand that was all over me! And how? The only plausible explanation was that the princess had done it. But I knew she hadn't gotten that far in magic. To turn a man to sand....that magic wasn't light therefore definently not the princess' kind. But it wasn't dark either, meaning a witch hadn't been there. It was good magic-when you turn a man to stone he lives- but it was still bad because sand can be scattered. It was like eternal pain. Torture.

Breathe. I told myself. Breathe. Nice and steady. There we go. Deeeeppppp breeeaaaathhhhssss.

Someone began to carry me and after a while laid me in a chair. I couldn't tell who. My mind was too fuzzy.

The room smelled sweet and lemony and cleared my mind. My eyes focused.
I was in the workers lounge. It wasn't much. Just a wooden walled room with a fireplace and chairs. Someone sat opposite me and held my hand.

"Jammy can you hear me? Jammy?" I knew that voice. I turned my eyes toward the boy. His deep green eyes were filled with concern. "Jammy."

"D-Der..." I stuttered, my mouth dry. It seemed like my mouth was full of sand. Maybe it was. "Derrick." I finally shoved out.

"Jammy," he wrapped his arms around me pulling me to him slightly. "I'm never letting you out of my sight again."
He kissed my hair and squeezed me again. When he pulled away, he stared into my eyes intently. "Are you okay?"

"I'm o-" and then I remembered the one person who might not be so. " Elaina!" I yelled, probably breaking all rules of addressing the royals.

I jumped up alerted and in a second he was up too holding me still before I could bolt. "She's fine. She's fine. In the hospital getting stitched up." He calmed me, trying to make me sit, but I refused.
"Why? Is she badly hurt?" Was I lousy in protecting her?
"She's fine, Jam. Just got in a little fight with a rebel that got in." He explained, I opened my mouth to ask another question when he interrupted, "The rebel's being held captive. Going to be questioned and trialed tomorrow."

I slowly sat down and Derrick edged up closer to me staring in my eyes again. "Are you okay?" I shook my head.
"My nose..." That was all he needed. He left briefly and came back with a maid who carried a metal tray with a wet stained cloth and a metal tea pot and cup a top. Derrick sat on his chair, and the maid lay the tray on a chair next to him. He smiled at her warmly.
"Thanks Melissa." He said.
She tilted her head slightly smiled back and walked away.

I narrowed my eyes at Derrick. "She's a nice one ain't she?"
Derrick, pouring the tea in the cup didn't look up to see my face and didn't catch the hint. "Yah she is."
When he handed me my cup he saw my face and began to backpedal. "Of course she....ummm...look, can we just act like we never had this chat?"
I snatched the drink and slurped some. My throat burned a bit but the feeling was welcome. Any feeling was welcome as long as it wasn't the feeling of grit and saliva.
He picked up a wet towel and brought it to my nose.
"It's swelling. I have to stop it." He said, determination on his face.
I trembled despite myself. I mean, I trust Derrick. I love him. But he was a royal guard. He was trained to develop his strength. I don't want him operating on my already-painful nose.
Before I could ask him if he knew what he was doing and that maybe he should call a doctor he put a dry cloth in my mouth. "To scream in."

I nodded bravely despite my hands shaking like magnets desperately trying to connect. He held my nose gently then slowly pressed.

The pain made me cry and my muffled screams could be heard from a mile around. He stopped briefly.
"To let it rest. We don't want a bigger swelling."
"How about we just call a doctor?" I said. I was sure I could feel the nose swelling now. Derrick needed some persuasion but in the end sent for one.
Doctor Gate studied the nose and worked his doctorly magic (not real magic. Only royals do that magic). When he was done though, my nose throbbed and stood in a set.
"By this time tomorrow you may remove it." He smiled. "You handled that well." He gave my arm a reassuring pat and left the room.

Derrick laughed. I frowned at him which hurt. He laughed more at my wince.
"I know I look terrible but you don't have to rub it in." I said, irritated.
He stopped laughing, smiled a mesmerising small at me and kissed me. "You could never look terrible. Even if your nose in a set." A cheeky smile played on his lips then and he kissed me again.

"Sorry to interrupt." Melissa said, blushing crimson. "The council sends for you."

"Why?" I asked.
She fidgeted. "The rebel....he has said shocking news."
"What?" I asked
"News that King of Scots Prussia has declared war on us."