The child's face was still laden with dirt from the fall as he sat upright, It had filled his mouth and found its way inside his nostrils. He reflexively blew his nose, clearing it, and then sucked what little moisture the dirt had in it before spitting it out. He knew what wetted it, but did not wish to waste another droplet of blood.
He smacked his lips to rid them of the residue, and it was only then that it dawned on him, the fact that he could still move freely.
'What is this? This is not how I remember it.'
He looked around, dazed and confused as his arm moved on its own to untie the knot that strained his neck.
'I am not sure, I think the switch was incomplete. I feel, a defiance, the body is not fully under my control.'
The child sensed a hint of trepidation and worry behind those words, and again he cursed his self absorption as he rushed reassuring words.
'That may not be the worst thing to happen. I wasn't planning on sitting idly by as you fix a mess of my own doing.'
'That is—Thank you,' the child breathed a sense of relief, 'To tell you the truth, I am not sure I can deal with this on my own.'
'Neither can I. But together...'
"As one."
Their voices merged as the child spoke the words and the two that are one embraced each other. Their movements and thoughts instantly got in sync as their minds intertwined, and the two sensed the sincerity and love of the other. United, they hastened to patch their battered state.
The child ground his teeth to dust as he ripped away the shirt that covered his arm. Pressed for time, he did not slow down even as the fabric fused scabs that barely had enough time to harden peeled away with it, releasing a mix of pus and blood.
He was weary that even though he had recovered his will to live, the critical condition he was in meant that death still had its foot lodged through the door. So he tried his hardest to ignore the hurt it caused him, a hurt that was soon compounded when his wounds got exposed to the chill of the morning wind.
To him, the stinging pain felt like another drop in a bucket that was full to the point of spilling. Still, he endured it, because he knew full well that he does not shoulder it alone, and that fact filled him with resilience and fortitude.
The boy bit down on the shirt, gulping as his own sweat and blood dripped down his parched throat, and then set himself to the task of cutting it into pieces. An effort that was made more difficult given how drenched the fabric was.
Lacking any tool be it sharp or dull, the task fell to his teeth, their long dormancy is at an end.
All the while, the child kept examining the rest of his body. He tried to clench his fist and wiggle his toes, but his limbs simply stared back at him, unmoving.
At a loss from their stubbornness, the boy thought — hoped — that he was somehow doing it wrong. And so he tried it on his healthy limbs.
When that worked as intended, the boy attempted to move them once again. But try as hard as he might, they refused to budge. A faint tingle was the best he could manifest. It was as though the order to move got stuck in his brain, stranded and unrelayed.
The boy's heart trembled out of fear of permanent disfigurement and he cursed the ones that caused this.
'Damn lapdogs, all this because I wanted a bit to eat? They will get what is coming for them.'
The boy's head then abruptly twisted to one side as he pulled the shirt away with his arm to the other, and the sound of ripping cloth followed.
'Forget about that for now. Here, this should be enough.' He said as he spat away the last of the scraps and gathered them together on his lap.
The child passed one under his armpit and wrapped it around his frail, wounded arm. Then, squeezing it to his wing to hold it in place, he tied it with his mouth, tugging it tighter until it reached the bone to completely stop the blood from flowing.
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The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the child knew that the shoddy bandaging, while effective for now, was nothing more than a temporary measure.
He tried to stand himself up but struggled to find his footing on numb, wobbly legs that started to tingle as though nested in by a swarm of ants.
He leaned his left hand on the wall to better steady himself and slowly made his way up. But when he finally stood upright with the ground firmly beneath his feet, he felt his mind go blank and control shifting all of a sudden, and it almost sent him crashing down. However, by now the two were working together in tandem. And it was only thanks to this newfound harmony that the child managed to maintain his balance.
The child felt a weakness overcome him and a strange feeling of emptiness stung in his heart as his feet sunk into the ground below.
'Wait! This is—this doesn't feel right.'
'Don't panic...keep your breathing steady, the bleeding...it has to—'
The boy became unnerved as he sensed the immense effort that it took to say those words.
'What is happening? Talk to me!'
'I don't know... I feel exhausted, and I can't see a thing. Something heavy has grabbed hold of me, and is dragging me down to depths unknown.'
'No, please! Don't leave me,' Pleaded the child. 'I don't want to be alone, not for another moment.'
'I am sorry, I am powerless to resist.' He sighed with drowsy eyes. 'But don't fret, I will be back, I promise you.'
'I swear to you that I will live,' Pledged the child. 'I will spend every waking moment awaiting your return.'
'Heh, simply living doesn't cut it for me after all this trouble,' chuckled the boy, 'If you wish to make it up for me, you would have to do something more. Acquire that which brings the most envy to our heart.'
Though cryptic, the boy did not need to think too deeply about it, for he saw a vision of his past. Amidst a hail of snow, he shivered, its chill penetrating his bones, and he saw a child swinging from the arms of his parents as they raced up the steps. The door opened ajar, and he saw the stacked woods that welcomed them inside and heard the crackling of the flames.
'A home.'
'Yes, that would be nice. The next time I open my eyes, let it be under a roof of our own...'
His words slurred as their sound vanished, and the boy was deafened by the silence that took hold in their place. He clenched a heart that grew heavier with each passing moment, and a sense of longing took over him.
'Always dreaming big, huh? That is our way...'
For the first time ever, a wide grin reached the boy's eyes as he cackled with laughter. He felt warm and fuzzy, and with a renewed vigor he made his way forward. His mind was clear and focused on only one goal: To meet his friend's expectations, and exceed them even.
He kept leaning against the wall, using it as a crutch as he made his way forward, unbothered by its moist touch. Strangely, the signature scent of Vagren, that of urine and excrement, did not clog his nose. In fact, air never smelled so good as the boy sensed the aroma of roses cuddling his nostrils, and he floated in its trail.
The smell was so mesmerizing that he almost got pricked by the thorns that lay in his path.