Barak awoke to the sa horrible nightmare that he had been having ever since he awoke and found himself amongst strange elven people whom he vaguely rembered eting at one point on his journey in Avelah. That sa dream where he was stabbed in the heart by his dear wife. It was a horrible mont, and yet he could never close his eyes without reliving that very mont again and again.
It was on repeat in his head. And the more he dreamt about it the more he felt the pain as though it was fresh. The pain of her betrayal. Just when he was starting to picture a beautiful future with her, just when he had beco delusional enough to forget that she was a liar, and a cheater. Just when he had been blinded enough to believe that she had a place for him in her heart.
She showed him how wicked she was. How rciless... It hurt. It hurt so bad that he wanted to hurt her equally. He wanted to make her suffer because as much as he loved her he hated her too. He hated her tk the point where thinking of her made his head hurt.
"Yah awake already? You should try and sleep more. Yah have not healed completely." Botch said as he stepped into the cottage with so firewood in his hands, to find Barak blankly staring at the roof above his head.
With half of his body still in bandages, Barak’s recovery was taking ti because of the shadow arrows that had been used on him. The black magic poison of the arrows inside his body was slowing down the healing process.
"I wish I could." Barak muttered as he rose to a sitting position on the bed. Silent groans left his lips because of the pains he felt in his body.
"Tis why you are not healing quickly. Yah won’t rest properly. Yah know a good sleep is a major key to quick recovery, so a famous physician once said." Botch says as he arranged the firewood next to the small hearth that served as a stove too.
"Mileka and Rug?" Barak asks.
"They went into town to get so stuff." Botch said, then murmured in a low voice, "Leaving to babysit once again."
Suddenly he dropped the woods he was arranging and turned to Barak, "Yah know, yah really should put in more zeal to try and get back on yah feet. I an after all the trouble I went through washing over you while you were unconscious, the very least you could do to show yah gratitude is to try your best to get better."
Barak silently watched and listened to the man speak. "Frankly speaking," Botch rose from where he was crouched near the hearth and walked toward the bed. "It almost seems as though yah don’t want to get better." He says as he drags a worn out stool next to the bed and sits in it. The stool squeaked and creaked as though it was against the idea of being used by such a big man.
"Look," Barak held back a groan as Botch’s hand mindlessly landed on a wounded and bandaged part of his leg without the bigger man realizing it, "From what we have heard, I understand why yah would lose the will to live. If I was betrayed by Mileka, I don’t think I will have the will to live either, but yah have to. If not for anything at least for who worked so hard to keep yah alive and in good working condition all through the days yah were asleep."
He shakes Barak’s wounded leg and this ti Barak could not hold back the pain so he took Botch’s hand in his own hands instead.
Botch on the other hand believed Barak’s gesture of holding his hand was because his ssage was getting through to his head. And was showing his gratitude that way.
"Aye, it was so hard to keep yah alive, but since you were a prince, I gave it my all, so yah have to get well so yah can repay soday."
Barak let out a weak laugh, "From what Mileka told , it was Rug who kept alive though."
Botch’s eyes opened wide as those words reached his ears. "That traitorous witch of mine." He muttered with his head turned to the side and Barak breathed another weak laugh.
"That is not entirely true. Rug indeed was the one who insisted that we saved you, but I am the one who did the saving."
"Really, she says all you did was watch over though."
"Yah think watching is easy? Watching ant I had to do all the work. All they did was clean yah wounds and change the cloth over them. And aye, Rug did co up with all the ways to keep you from starving or paralysed for life, but I was the one who administered them all."
Barak just silently listened as the man spoke. In truth, when he heard he had been unconscious for three whole months, he wondered how they were able to keep him alive for that long in a place like this.
Normally, dragonbloods could last at least two weeks without food or water, and at most three weeks. Yes there were ways to preserve a person longer than that if need be, but it took skilled persons who were vast in both magic and dicine to achieve that.
And yet he was unconscious for three whole months with no one but this big man whose major strength was his muscles, his wife who seed knowledgeable in so things, and an old alcoholic.
How was he kept alive? He had wanted to ask, but at the sa ti, he really didn’t feel the need to know. The need to know why she had betrayed him was what was big on his mind.
But it seed he was going to find out now without even asking.
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