Page 99 of An Empress of Air & Chaos

It had been recorded in the ancient manuscripts of the healers that men had gone completely insane just hours after the blade was rooted. They had lived in their own personal hell as the demon magic poisoned their blood, turning them mad before killing them.

Gideon was living in his own personal hell now, even if it was a trick of the mind. He struggled to fight back to the real world. But he knew he had to. And no matter how tired he was, he would get back.

For all he knew, he spent years in that hell before he felt a cool flannel on his face and neck. That was a good sign! His body was fighting the poison and he was managing to feel a stream of consciousness.

“Is he going to make it?”

“If I keep draining the wound and applying the dressings with the oak tree ash, it should draw the poison out. He’s weak, but his heart seems steady enough. He just needs to rest and heal. No training for a while, and I mean that.”

“Understood.”

He could hear the voices of both Rhea and Torin, but the darkness found him again. He tried to scream for help. Scream for it to end. He begged and begged...until he heard his name.

“Gideon,” a soft, melodic voice drifted into his ears. “Please come back to us, Gideon.”

Worry and concern were knotted in her voice and he knew it was Emara’s, he just didn’t have the strength to open his eyes and see her.

But the pain had stopped. Was the pain listening to her, too?

“You really scared us, but Rhea said she thinks you’re going to be okay.” Her voice was becoming clearer.

Us.

He knew she was smiling by the tone of her voice. He had to fight to open his eyes and see that smile. He had to fight and awake his body from the nightmares of the demon world that devoured him as he slept. He felt a cold hand brush over his own.

He could feel his hands.

He twitched a finger on his hand to let her know that he heard her. He was fighting.

“Come back to us, Gideon.” Her voice sounded like a beautiful song in his ears.

Go towards the melody.

Gideon tried to force his eyes open. His lids felt like they had paper weights on them.

Push! Push!

“Come back to me,” she whispered into his ear.

Responding to her command, his body ignited a fire that had been dormant in his mind and he opened his eyes. He flinched when the sunlight hit them and a searing pain ran through his arm.

“Easy,” her voice carefully said.

He looked around groggily, but his neck was too weak to hold up his head.

Not a good sign.

He was trained to assess his injuries from the minute he regained consciousness. To assess if his vital organs were still working from head to toe. But he couldn’t lift his head. He was weak. How long had he been passed out for?

“Gideon, you’re awake.” A sound of relief exhaled from her chest. Emara was here with him and that was all that mattered.

“You are here,” his dry voice scraped out.

“I told you I would wait for you.” Her gentle hand brushed over his fingers.

He looked up to see her standing over him as the winter sun poured through the long windows of the infirmary, framing a glow around her body.

“You look like an angel.” His voice sounded rough and unused as it grated against his vocal cords.

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