Fae were long-lived, but even they couldn’t survive everything.
Nikhail couldn’t remember what happened. He’d gotten up for work this morning at precisely six a.m., as usual. After running his normal track around the neighborhood, he’d showered, gotten dressed, and grabbed a latte from Grind and Go, the coffee shop near his house.
And then…
Nothing.
The pounding in his head worsened, and an obsidian wall blocked him from his memories. Try as he might, he couldn’tfind a single crack in it or figure out what had happened to him.
Time slipped on, and the scent of copper grew stronger.
Nikhail should be worried; he knew that, but he wasn’t. At some point, the air had shifted once again. The smell of blood remained, but it was no longer the only scent tickling his senses.
He was surrounded by fresh, pure, powerful rain. The welcome aroma seeped into his pores, grounding him in a way that nothing ever had before. Slowly, the pounding in his head faded. The gusting wind died down. Even his magic, which had been a maelstrom in his veins, was no longer as volatile.
Eventually, he made out snippets of words being spoken around him.
“What happened…”
A light as bright as a beam of sunlight shone in his vision.
“Hand me that scalpel…”
Something prodded his arm, and fire raced through the limb. Flames licked his muscles. Had his tongue not felt as though it was made of sandpaper, he would’ve groaned.
“…get me that…”
A clatter of metal.
“He’s going to need…”
More beeping machines. Someone cursed. The scent of rain grew stronger. A storm enveloped him, trying to pull him to safety. But the pain… gods, the pain was getting worse.
“Bleeding everywhere.”
“Fuck!”
“… call… need help…”
There were so many people touching him, so many voices speaking all at once, that he couldn’t concentrate on a single one. The pounding in his head returned with increased vigor,and the steady presence of rain was the only thing he could focus on. He held on to it with all his might, somehow knowing that if he let go, it might be the last thing he ever did.
Time, which had been acting strangely ever since he woke up, marched onwards.
It seemed impossible, but the pain worsened. Fire devoured him from the inside out. If he could open his mouth and scream, he would.
What was happening?
Something sharp poked his arm, and cold flooded his veins.
A soft, cool hand cupped his cheek. The scent of rain grew stronger, and he wished—oh, how he wished—he could move closer to it. He needed that scent to envelop him, to wrap around him, to consume him.
“They’re going to take care of you, okay?” The soft words were whispered in his ear, meant only for him. “Just hold on, Nik. Please.”
Before he could open his eyes—because he fucking needed to open them, dammit—coolness washed through his entire body. Even though he tried to hold on to consciousness, tried desperately to remain alert, he careened headfirst into darkness.
When Nikhail woke next,the pain was somehow better and worse.
Better, because he could feel his body. He was, ostensibly, in one piece. That was good.