For Lucien, pain was always in the background. It had slowly turned from a sharp pain to a dull pain, then over time it developed into a constant, ongoing reminder of what his body had suffered.
There was always a sensation of pressure beneath the surface of his skin and in his bones, along with a headache behind his eyes. The healers told Lucien that it was a sign of healing and that it would continue until Lucien's body finished healing.
Lucien was not interested in hearing from the healers. His idea of healing was the ability to feel pain.
The hospital ceiling that hung over Lucien felt way too clean and white, as if it had been painted over hundreds of times and had never had anything go wrong with it.
Lucien could see his right hand lying on the blanket, wrapped tightly in a cast, fingers hardly able to take direction from him. Lucien had been able to move his fingers, but not fast, because they felt like they belonged to another person and he was simply allowed to use them.
Ren had been standing by the window for the last ten minutes with his arms crossed, pretending to look out the window and observing the training grounds of the academy.
Lucien notices when Ren deems to be over thinking. That's when he stops moving.
Iryss was sitting on the chair, legs crossed, looking as inscrutable as usual.
Since Lucien woke up, Iryss hasn't said much at all. What she doesn't say is louder than anything she could say.
Eira is the closest person to Lucien's bed.
Visitors are limited, three to four at a time per patient, according to the healers' rules but Lucien has experienced some bending of these rules recently and it appears as though no one is certain of the current rules regarding him.
Lucien turned his head toward Ren, "Ren."
Ren didn't look back and respond, "Hmm?"
"I need something," Lucien said.
Now Ren turned to face Lucien. "If that's about getting out of this bed, the answer is No!"
"I need a book and a pen,"
Iryss raised an eyebrow at Lucien's request and responded, "You can barely pick up a cup, how do you think you'll hold a pen?"
"I understand."
"Then why—"
"I need a journal," Lucien interrupted. "The thicker the better."
There was silence as Ren stared at Lucien's face looking for something irrational.
"Are you serious?" Ren said.
Lucien's lips formed a grin, "I'm typically serious when I'm injured."
"A journal?"
Lucien nodded.
Ren remained silent as he left the room.
A quiet settled again in the room.
Eira turned to Lucien and inquired, "What are you writing?"
Lucien's gaze was fixed up to the ceiling.
He replied, "I am creating something for time."
That was all the response that Lucien would give.
The space around Lucien was more empty now since Ren had left.
There was no noticeable difference in the volume of sounds in the area; rather it felt distorted.
It is as if there is an object that, when held, makes the space stable. But now the object is no longer being supported and the space is tilting to one side.
Lucien heard a noise from the doorway.
He did not initially look; it took a second before he reacted.
He heard the voice again, "Lucien."
The tone in the voice was gentle.
Lucien felt a strain in his jaw.
Lyana was standing next to the bed with her fists clenched within the sleeves of her robe, afraid that if she opened her hands something bad would happen.
Lyana's eyes were not puffy or swollen with tears; anyone could tell that she had recently cried, making it worse for him.
Cassian was behind Lyana. He was standing up straight and looked calm with a sense of control.
He had taken a single instant to look around the entire room; he observed Eira, Iryss, the monitoring equipment, Lucien's condition. He did not linger on any one item but he did not miss anything.
"Why didn't you tell us?" Lyana asked softly.
Lucien opened his eyes and turned his head toward Lyana.
He said, "You shouldn't have come."
Lyana's gaze faltered slightly. "You're breaking yourself again."
Cassian took a single step forward. "Lyana," he said in a firm tone.
His tone caused Lyana to come to a halt.
Cassian then turned his head and locked eyes with Lucien again. He exhibited neither sympathy, nor hesitation.
"You've made it so far in life, Lucien. Good for you."
Lucien exhaled a weak breath as if in disbelief. "That's quite the compliment coming from somebody with such low expectations."
Cassian responded: "Realistic expectations," and then continued "What happened to you?"
Lucien took several seconds to respond.
Finally, he said, "Life is a lot bigger than I had ever anticipated."
Cassian had no reaction; yet, his eyes revealed that something within him had altered.
Perhaps Cassian's suspicions had just been realised.
Lyana noticed that Lucien was shaking, and his fingers were balled into fists.
"You are on the verge of hurting yourself again," she said, stating the truth without casting judgement.
Lucien shifted his gaze away.
Cassian shifted his attention to Eira and Iryss. "What are these two girls doing here?"
"Because we are not fleeing," Iryss replied.
Cassian returned a slight nod in acknowledgement.
The room noticed him before they did.
The atmosphere was dense, neither heavy, nor cold! Rather, an odd combination of both at once—a discordant note within a melody that could not find resolution.
The light near the farthest wall flickered slightly, as though it couldn't decide which way to go.
Iryss was the first to straighten up.
She had good instincts. "Lucien," she whispered. "Don't move."
Like Lucien could help it anyway.
Eira was the next one to feel it. A pressure in her forehead, and a creeping sensation up her back. The type of feeling you have when the very things older than fear recognize you.
There was no explosion or explosion to announce the presence.
There was an empty space next to the bed.
And then it was filled.
He appeared… ordinary, like the way a storm looks ordinary from a distance. He was tall, poised and dressed in dark clothes that absorbed light oddly.
His hair reached down to his shoulders, and shone pale in the shadow that came with it. The eyes he owned were—
Lucien didn't look directly at him.
Lucien knew that looking directly in his eyes would be a choice to make that he couldn't take back.
Every healing sigil that was carved into the walls of the room flickered momentarily.
It merely distorted, like they didn't knew who were meant to protect.
Eira moved in front of the figure and got in between the figure and Lucien's bed, without even thinking.
Cassian didn't move.
He could feel every muscle in his body telling him to flee or kneel, but he chose neither.
Iryss swallowed hard.
"Lord Azer…" she said.
Azer looked towards Lucien.
"You are not finished yet," Lord Azer said.
Lucien curl his fingers slightly into the blanket, causing pain to shoot through his hand.
With Lord Azer moving closer to Lucien, the air around Lucien was changing once again.
"Your mana channels are broken; your body has rejected reinforcement. You have surpassed your threshold," Lord Azer said calmly.
Then he paused.
"Still," Lord Azer continued, staring intensely at Lucien, "you live."
Finally, Lucien spoke. "Do you expect me to say I'm sorry?"
Cassian inhaled sharply. Eira tensed.
Azer didn't react the way higher beings did when challenged
"I thought you were supposed to collapse," Azer stated.
There was silence.
Eira stepped forward, demonstrating visible signs of anxiety in her hands as she continued to speak without apparent fear. "You are not to own him, whatever you are."
Azer shifted his focus from Lucien to Eira; his reaction toward Eira included for the first time an alteration of his face.
It did not contain any expressions of anger towards her, nor any signs of being upset; but instead it appeared to be one of fascination.
"Then teach him how to refuse."
Azer's response was not benevolent, but rather designed to communicate his wishes without being overtly cruel.
The implications of the commands had become manifestly pronounced.
"You can't just walk into the Infirmary!" Cassian found his voice.
Azer did not acknowledge Cassian as he spoke. "I have already done that," Azer replied.
A lengthy silence followed Azer's words.
Lucien could sense a scraping sensation occurring outside of the entrance doors.
He could sense many presences outside that entrance all converging on it with the regard of fear; and, they were all in some way connected to the Authority of the Academy's Infirmary, but at that moment they were devoid of power.
While Cassian and the other students were silent and dumbfounded,
Azer returned his attention toward Lucien.
"Entities exist," he said quietly, "that will notice what you are becoming."
Lucien met his gaze at that moment, just for a brief moment.
Standing in that place was like standing at the beginning of a story that did not know how it was going to end.
"If you have discovered yourself before those entities discover you, you may live," said Azer, "as long as you find them."
Lucien clenched his jaw, "And if those entities find me first?" Azer's gaze grew dark—not in anger; but with certainty.
"Then you will beg for my test."
He vanished.
Not in a puff of smoke, but in straight lines.
The sigils steadied themselves into position.
The empty space next to the bed was empty again as if nothing ever occupied that space.
There was no sound for five full seconds. All were silent.
Suddenly, Eira's knees buckled.
Cassian caught her before she hit the floor.
Slowly, Iryss let out a breath. "That," she said in a strained voice, "was not an illusion."
Lucien stared at the empty air.
His heart was still.
The stillness struck fear in his heart more than anything else.
One hour later, Ren returned with a thick completely blank journal and a pen.
No questions were asked.
He placed both items carefully within reach.
For quite a while Lucien was staring at the book.
Eira was observing Lucien from her chair next to Lucien, she asked him, "Are you okay?"
Lucien replied, "No."
Eira nodded and replied, "Good. Because I thought you would lie about that."
Lucien managed to make a sound that almost resembled a laugh, but he still found it difficult to breathe.
He struggled intentionally to grip his pen, and in the process of gripping the pen, a sudden wave of intense and burning pain outside of the regular bounds of his grip overcame him.
Lucien then stretched out his hand, lifted the journal he had finally secured enough to grip and pressed it open to the first page of his Journal.
All of the pages within that Journal were blank.
However, the pages were not void of sound; rather, the pages were waiting.
Lucien lowered his grip on the pen and began to write slowly and cautiously.
Lucien stopped for just a moment.
His hand began to shake uncontrollably.
Ren leaned closer and said, "Lucien, you can take it easy, you do not have to force yourself."
Lucien kept writing.
Silence continued.
Lucien closed the Journal.
For the first time since his stay in the hospital, the pain within Lucien started to feel smaller than the inner-space previously filled by the pain in his chest.
Something ancient and steady beyond the boundaries of Time and Space recognized the existence of the story being written.