It hurts to die. Light, flashing. Burning. Taking away and then, like an oversight, giving back pain beyond magnitude. It kills you, funnily enough, like that of a loved ones death. Her eyes opened up to death and tears fell out as destruction laid ruin to her soul. She found herself sobbing out darkness. Hands touched and covered her. Comfort. Comfort in a world of evil and in a world where nothing good could ever happen.
"Shh," he whispered. His rough hands were familiar. She found herself melting into him. "Shh, don't speak."
Tears streamed down. She'd missed his voice. God, how she'd missed it. His cheek pressed up against hers, close in ways she never wanted to forget. Bostrim. Just his name filled her soul with a presence that she couldn't name.
Minutes passed with their embrace.
No words were spoken because none were needed. Friendship as deep as theirs needed nothing but the other to allow themselves to be completed. Nothing to separate them, no awkwardness at her lack of clothing or between anything they could ever say to one another. Mirianette's body felt older than a 100 year old sages'. She could hardly move aside from her head. Everything was tough, broken, stiffer than anything she'd ever experienced. Only a month had passed and she couldn't remember anything from it, as though her mind was as old as her body felt.
"What day is it now?" she asked, trying to steady herself. It didn't work.
"The forty-third of summer."
"Three days then."
Bostrim didn't respond. Mirianette wasn't awake much and she knew it, because every time she awoke from sleep it was days past. Three days since I last saw him. What's happened now? Her body was still healing, but they feared that she would never heal enough. Her chest, or what lay open to his eyes, was still covered in the dark purple and browns of the darker magic. The browns mixed in with her skin, but the yellows that accompanied them didn't. The green of infection had ran itself off less than a week prior to her waking.
He coughed into his hands and rubbed them against his leg. Times were different, and by the way he held himself she knew that something drastic had changed. Not only had he suddenly begun to get taller—almost as though overnight—his face was changing right before her eyes. His soft jawline was getting stronger and his scrawny muscles were growing as he worked more. The town needed to be rebuilt and since his uncle was dead Leunk and Bostrim had to work to get food and shelter. Times had definitely changed.
"There's talk of sending you ta Nilvath's Cathedral, all way in Rufella."
"Rufella?"
That was a new one. Luistia and Amelia, the princess, had been working up ways for her to heal faster, but that'd never come up before. Nilvath's Cathedral was known for its famous healing and their spiritualness. There, everyone was religious or they didn't live in the Kingdom. In Gardelle people believed whatever they wanted, which only served to give mixed opinions on everything. It worked...for the most part.
"Yeah," he said. A cough settled through him before he spoke again, "I think it's a good idea. Ya need ta get out of Gardelle. It's hurtin' ya."
"It's not-"
"You haven't healed." She couldn't deny it. "Ya hardly awake, and it's killin' me ta see you like this, Mirian. The gang be hardly survivin' without you, and Leunk isn't good a boss."
Time stood silent—as did she. Her thoughts swirled around in delightful colors. Brights, darks, all alike, mixing and crafting new words and bubbles for her to connect onto. It was a new thing she'd been doing more often than not recently, and for the life of her she didn't know why. Since the incident, Mirian wasn't the same. No way to move, no way to do anything, she was just there. Healing.
People walked eggshells around her. They only told her of the good, as if that somehow made the bad less bad. Bostrim, though, told her everything. He didn't like lying, which is good, because neither did she. The two knew better than to keep secrets. Even so, Bostrim seemed to be holding something else back from her. Something major.
"What is it?" she asked. Voice is weak. Mirianette was weak.
Bostrim shook off her question and gave her what could almost be conceived as a smile. Though he didn't smile much before it bothered her that he'd quit smiling. He was growing up all too fast and neither had reached fourteen yet. "You know, Mirian, if you get sent ta Rufella ya'll have ta have someone take ya there."
A smile dotted her face and could be heard in her words. "Oh?"
"Yeah. A big tough man ta protect you," he said. Then he flashed his teeth for a brief second, "I'm gettin' pretty tough myself. Course, theys sayin' that Rorro would have ta go with you, since he knows more' bout the land an' all, but..."
"Rorro?" Somehow, she perked up even more. Rorro didn't come over half as often as Bostrim, but when he did she found herself more awake. More alert. He was helping her get back into the use of magic, as to keep it from building up inside of her and surging out. That'd happened a few times since the incident and each time it happened she'd found herself passed out for nearly an entire week and couldn't speak for days. "Wow, the three of us on a trip. Wouldn't that be just jolly?"
"Yeah, jolly."
"What's wrong?"
"Nothing," he said. "Luisita and the princess gotta go there soon, apparently. Theys wantin' ta take you with 'em, ta save on trips. It's in a few weeks, if ya'd be wantin' ta go." Changing the subject...again. What'd happened between them? They must've had a fight or two, just a spat. With a sigh she tried to keep herself from thinking too much into the situation. Her mind ran away too much.
"It's worth a try. That's the magic capitol, besides Partrall."
"Partrall's magicians are all dead," he said.
"Yeah. I know. I was just...saying."
"I get it," he told her. "Mirian?"
"Hm?"
He coughed again. Thicker. Almost wet. He's not getting sick, is he? "I hope you'll be able ta get better real soon. You're missin' out on the Summer Festival. Ya love the Summer Festival. Leunk and I got yous a surprise, ya know? You'll love it! Ain't the neatest thing I ever done seen, if I do says so myself."
Tears bit at her eyes. I love how he talks, she thought. She did, too. Bostrim's dialect was rough and crooked, just like him in all the best ways. He didn't understand a lick of reading and could hardly write his name, but he was everything to her. Before, Mirian used to read aloud to him from books and teach to him as she taught herself all that she knew. Despite his inhibitions, he loved learning. Everything from early history to the magic books she'd stolen from the Tower Library. The Tower...It was hard to fight those tears. Tower Gardelle, in ruins, had been her home for all she could remember. There wasn't a life before the Tower. Her entire livelihood, all that she loved, had been burnt down along with half the Gardellian Kingdom.
"And what's that?"
He gave her a sly look. "You'll find out when ya can stand again," he said.
She gasped, "That's not fair!"
"Yeah? Get better."
"I'm trying!"
"Yeah?"
"I am!"
He made a 'tsk'ing noise and shrugged. A smile did kiss his face then and she couldn't help but grin back at it. Then he sighed and placed a hand on her collar, tracing the lines that led down to her scar. Most girls would blush if Bostrim so much as touched them, let alone on their chest, but she knew that it didn't mean anything. Bostrim was a touchy person, and he liked the way scars felt in comparison to the other clean skin. Still, a shudder shook her as his fingers traced down to the middle of her chest, never touching anything major, and back up to her collar. Luistia gave it to me, she thought. It was hard to remember that day. It was hard to remember a lot of what happened then. She stabbed me. Just barely missin' my actual heart. Could've killed me. God, his fingers are cold.
Satisfied with her scar, Bostrim shrugged his shoulders again. "Your bandages need to be cleaned again. Want me to help you?"
Eyebrows raised, Mirianette gave him the biggest 'you're rude' look she could muster. Sarcastic as ever she responded with, "Oh no, I think I'm goin' to do it myself. 'Cause I can move my body without help."
At that he chuckled and helped her to a sitting position. After grabbing the new bandages from beside the bed, he took hers off and rewrapped.
"Thanks."
He didn't respond, only looked her in the eyes. The depths that were held in his irises could have told stories upon stories, filling up entire libraries. His heart truly lied in his eyes, and she loved every bit of them. "Anytime," he whispered, and he meant it.
It was her who chuckled, wanting to break his gaze but not wanting to look away. Sometimes she couldn't help but wonder what he thought. Bostrim wasn't one for talking about his emotions and feelings, nor his trains of thought. Normally it wouldn't bother her so, but then all she wanted to do was speak to him of the stars and of the beauties hidden inside the Earth.
Then he spoke again, reminding her that she was getting lost again.
"Rufella will be fun, won't it? Best you get back ta sleep, okay? Rest up.You'll need it. Leunk said he'd be in lat'a. He's got food duty tonight."
*
First chapter, guys! :) What do you think? Mirian's alive! (You know I couldn't kill that cutie.) But now she can't move hardly and things have definitely changed. It's a new ballgame now, and they've still got a lot to go to before things will be okay again. Ready for the next part in the Gardelle series? Thanks for reading!