Chapter 92 - 93
It was with a grateful breath that Alistar awoke on this day, his body slick with sweat that seemed just as cold as his skin. It felt as if he had a fever, though he knew that his strained condition was due to the detestable dreams that had driven him to the brink of madness throughout most of the previous night.
Again and again he had been forced to relive his father’s death scene, always followed by the murder of his uncle Raidon. Kaila had been there too, an emaciated corpse that had constantly pulled at his tunic in a desperate attempt to get his attention all throughout each of the nightmarish memories, an ever-present reminder of his greatest regrets and most perturbing anxieties. And then there was his mother’s eerie, saddening silhouette, undefined as she had been in all of his previous dreams, who would either stare at him with her featureless face or embrace him with a cold, alien touch.
Noticing fresh tears from the warmth that tracked down the sides of his face and into his ears, Alistar sat up and wiped them away. His mind was still recoiling from images of that devious pit of the dead that he and his uncle Raidon had discovered following their escape from captivity, a sight that he had promised never to think of again, the final promise that he’d ever made to the man. This pit was a common presence in his nightmares, the backdrop always punctuated by the close-by calls of hungry creatures, as well as the presence of his frantic family. As with all of his previous versions of this nightmare, the pit had served as their final resting place.
Suddenly sick, Alistar tumbled from his bed and vomited into an empty bucket at his bedside, which usually contained extra water for his wash bowl. An uneasy feeling was festering within him, as if it were a mocking gift from his nighttime misery.
You’re still alive, right? Thinking of Kaila, his chest filled with longing. You have to be.
Pulling himself to his feet, Alistar rested a hand over his stomach and activated a basic mending spell, which gave life to a small green glow within the darkness of his windowless room. Even with how much he had progressed in using the technique, it didn’t have much effect in this moment other than to regulate his blood flow and allow for him to collect his wits a bit quicker than he otherwise would have.
Taking a deep breath, he lit all of the candles within his room with a wave of his hand, just as he had seen his uncle do many times before. Glancing at the bucket that he had just set aside, he willed some water from the stone basin on the other end of the room to float over and into the foul-smelling container. He froze this water with a basic freezing spell that was usually used to preserve foods and chill drinks, since he didn’t want to bother anyone with the smell once he set off to clean it.
He quickly stripped down and washed his body, forgoing a washcloth for his own magical manipulations. He then hesitated in front of his dresser, though only for a moment before he opened his top drawer and then retrieved the outfit that Madeline had set aside for him the previous night.
Anice arrived outside of his room just as he finished getting dressed, though she didn’t rush in as had been a habit of hers in the past. Instead, her voice followed an abrupt knock on the door.