Chapter Text
He was going to die.
The druid could feel his strength slowly disappear. Allanon wasn't very optimistic about his chances to survive all of this. The last war against the Dagda Mor had weakened him, and only the Druid Sleep could save him now. Allanon had missed his opportunity when he decided to go after Bandon. He had been lucky that the young man hadn't been very discreet and Allanon had found traces of Bandon rather easily.
But Bandon always managed to escape him, and for a whole year Allanon had chased him across the Four Lands.
The druid turned his head slightly toward his former apprentice. Bandon was sitting against one of the walls, his legs pulled against his chest and his face was hidden behind his arms. For an instant, Allanon wondered if he was sleeping. Bandon's position was oddly vulnerable, but after all, Allanon had proved to him he had nothing to fear. The spell on the magical prison prevented them from killing each other.
Absentmindedly, Allanon could also hear Wil's uncle’s laborious breathing. The man hadn't said a word in a while. He was probably unconscious, as close to death as him...
The druid sighed and straightened a bit. He looked back at his former apprentice, his gaze falling on the sword Bandon wore at his belt. Allanon regretted that the young man was able to get his hands on the weapon. There was no doubt that the evil influence of the sword had replaced the Dagda Mor's hold on Bandon after he had stolen his mind.
Allanon was not sure if, after all this time, getting Bandon separated from the sword could bring him back from the Darkness... But the druid didn't want to leave this world without trying to save his former apprentice.
Allanon searched for a way to start a conversation, something neutral. However, he was tired and he used the first topic he found without thinking about it twice.
"Long hair suits you." He said.
The moment the words left his mouth, he wanted to slap himself. Why did he choose such a lame idea?
Bandon lifted his head toward him immediately with a frown, proving he wasn't sleeping at all.
"What did you say?" Bandon asked.
The young sorcerer was sure he had heard right the first time, but Allanon's remark was so destabilizing he could only have misunderstood.
The druid pressed his back a bit more against the wall, and grimaced in pain. The more he stayed in this jail, the more it absorbed his energy. He was already weakened before he got stuck there and if Wil and Mareth didn't came back soon, he was going to die here. Despite all of this, Allanon refused to die without tying to save the Four Lands one last time from the Crimson and from Bandon's dangerous quest.
The druid also refused to die without mending the mistakes he made in the past. And losing Bandon to the Darkness was one of them.
"I said, long hair suits you." He repeated simply.
Bandon blinked and crossed his arms. He watched his former mentor coldly. "Are you losing your mind?" He asked with a mocking tone.
"You don't have to be unpleasant." Answered Allanon, almost rolling his eyes.
"Unpleasant? You're the one who told me to shut up earlier." Bandon retorted dryly.
Allanon closed his eyes briefly and sighed. This conversation wasn't going well... To be honest, the druid didn't have much illusions about all of this. The Dagda Mor's influence and the Warlock's sword had lead Bandon on a path that would be difficult to come back from. The fact Bandon seemed to hate him didn't help either...
A heavy silence fell on them and Allanon wondered what to do now. The druid glanced toward the place where Wil and Mareth had disappeared. He knew where they had gone, but he hoped they wouldn't find the skull. Allanon didn't want the death of Wil's uncle, but he had to think to the greater good. He couldn't take the risk of letting the young Shannara give the skull to Bandon.
The problem caused by the Crimson was already important enough without adding the Warlock Sorcerer's return. Allanon knew he wouldn't be able to face the dark lord and survive if he had to face him now. He was too weakened for this.
"The illusionist... She's really your daughter?" Bandon asked suddenly.
The question roused the druid from his thoughts. He hadn't expected this kind of question. Allanon looked at his former apprentice, then he slightly nodded his head.
"You didn't talk about her back then." The young man said, curious despite himself.
Allanon considered this curiosity as a good thing. It was the proof Bandon still wanted to talk. Maybe with a bit of luck, Allanon could still reason with him... Or at least try.
"I learned about her existence recently." The druid answered. "I always thought it was impossible for me to have children. But Mareth proved I was wrong."
Bandon stayed silent for a minute. Then, with an almost sinister smile, he shook his head.
"So you really took your daughter into a dangerous conflict without proper training." Bandon accused, "Glad to know I wasn't just the exception."
Allanon mentally grimaced when he head this. He couldn't deny it, Mareth needed a lot of training. His daughter was naturally skilled with illusions and she wasn't defenseless. Only, it wouldn't be enough in the view of the future events. The druid knew that, but he couldn't really do anything different otherwise. The fate of their world was once again in peril, and it was just a matter of time before Mareth was pulled into the struggle. Allanon didn't want to admit, but he was scared to fail his daughter.
He feared she would end up following the same path as Bandon because of his mistakes.
"Bandon, I'm sorry about what happened, but time was against us." The druid said. "I really thought you wouldn't be in danger when I asked you to use yours powers back then."
The young man frowned when he heard this. It was clear he didn't believe Allanon. "And if you had known the Dagda Mor could trap my mind," Bandon said "Would you have asked me to still do it ?"
The druid wasn't expecting this question and for an instant, he didn't know how to answer it. "The Four Lands were going to be destroyed..." He began.
But his explanation was dryly cut by Bandon, "You would have still done it."
"Bandon, you need to understand... "
"Understand?!" Yelled Bandon.
The young sorcerer's hand tensed, as if he was trying to use his powers. He would have probably done it if the jail hadn't stopped him. For once, Allanon was kind of glad about the effect of the spell. Bandon's anger would have fueled his magic and the young man would have gained the upper hand against the druid.
When Bandon realized he couldn't use his magic, he furiously pulled out his sword without thinking. The weapon was as useless as his magic but Bandon didn't care, he needed it. Needed to know he could kill Allanon at the first occasion and take revenge on him.
"What do you want me to understand?" Bandon yelled again. "That you would have still sacrificed me if you had thought it was necessary?!"
Allanon tried to answer, but he stopped when he saw Bandon's eyes shining with tears. The young sorcerer didn't even seem to realize he was on the verge of crying. Seeing his former student like this only made Allanon's guilt stronger. Bandon joined the Darkness, but he couldn't keep himself from feeling responsible.
Maybe Bandon wouldn't have fallen under the Dagda Mor's control if Allanon hadn't pushed him to use his powers. The druid had been too fast with Bandon's training. The young man was just starting to control them when everything went wrong. Allanon felt bad about what happened to Bandon.... Not even a week prior, before he lost his mind, Bandon couldn't even touch someone without being plagued by awful visions.
The young man didn't seem to see his former mentor's inner turmoil. He was still glaring at Allanon with a mix of anger and disappointment.
"When you and the others released me from the barn back then, I thought... " But he didn't finish his sentence and he shook his head instead. He stayed quiet for a few minutes, then he whispered with a trembling voice.
"I trusted you".
Allanon closed his eyes, consumed by regret. If he could find a way to go back in time, he would gladly do it to prevent himself from making the same mistakes. But he couldn't allow himself to drown in self loathing for now. He didn't have much time left and he needed to act.
And the first thing to do was to show Bandon it wasn't too late for him.
"Bandon, there isn't a single day where I didn't regret what happened." Allanon said softly, trying to calm down his former apprentice.
But he wasn't counting on the Warlock Lord's sword. The weapon was a source of evil energy and had almost a consciousness of its own. It could easily control and manipulate his owner, playing with theirs feelings. When the influence of the Dagda Mor on Bandon had begun to fade, the sword had replaced it. The sword had treacherously took the place of the young man's conscience, leading him more and more on a path of Darkness.
Pushing him to resurrect its true Master.
But despite what the sword wanted, Bandon didn't let the Darkness consume him too easily. There were still a small part of him fighting to stay good. The young sorcerer really wanted to heal Wil's uncle after he got the skull and even let him go if it was possible. He didn't even want to kill the Shannara, not if he could prevent it...
He was still in love with Catiana and regretted every day about what happened between them.
The sword couldn't let Allanon reach Bandon's heart. The evil energy decided to use Bandon's anger and resentment toward the druid to its advantage. The effect was almost instantaneous and the young sorcerer's gaze hardened. He wiped his tears with the back of his sleeve. The vulnerably he had shown was already gone, locked away by the darkness living inside of him.
"Of course you're sorry." He hissed vehemently. "But it's just because you don't have the courage to assume responsibility for what you did. It was because of your decisions that the Dagda Mor was able to steal my mind. Stopping me is just a way for you to ease your conscience."
Allanon was surprised for an instant, destabilized by Bandon's swift behavior change. He gazed at the sword still held by the young sorcerer and mentally winced. He should have known that the weapon wouldn't let his owner escape its clutches too easily.
If he wanted to have a chance to get Bandon back for good, Allanon needed to separate him from the damned sword.
"You're right." He admitted. "I haven't been the best mentor to you and I let you down, but I promise you... "
Bandon cut him off with a scornful laugh, "You can keep your promises, I won't believe you anymore." He said. "And they won't give me the power I'm looking for."
The answer annoyed Allanon and he lost his composure for a second. "Resurrecting the Warlock Lord will only get yourself killed!"
"And what?!" Yelled back Bandon, "It's a risk I am willing to take!"
It useless, the darkness is so deep inside him now. Allanon thought for a second before mentally slapping himself. He refused to abandon him too easily... Refused to admit it was too late for his former apprentice. The druid decided to change his tactic.
Allanon took a step toward Bandon, fighting against his exhaustion. He needed to act quickly before this cell drained all his energy. The young sorcerer glared at him as he got closer and he tightened his hand around the sword's handle. Slowly, the druid reached toward him and Bandon didn't move. He just looked suspicious, wondering what Allanon wanted to do. It was impossible for them to touch each other. Bandon's last attempt to kill the druid had proved that. It was imp –
Allanon put his hand on Bandon's shoulder.
Bandon remained motionless, too shocked to react. He couldn't think about anything, his mind fully focused on Allanon's hand. It was only when the druid pushed his luck a bit too much by lightly squeezing Bandon's shoulder in a comforting gesture that Bandon finally moved.
He jumped backward, his back ending up against the cell's wall, trying to put distance between him and the druid as much as possible.
"How did you do that?" He exclaimed. "I thought it was impossible for us touch?!" Shock was perceptible in his voice, but Allanon was certain he could also heard nervousness.
"I said it was impossible for us to kill each other." He simply corrected. "I didn't said anything else was impossible."
Bandon frowned, still carefully out of arms reach. He still held his sword but he looked more calm now.
"What do you mean?" Asked Bandon, curious. "I could touch you if I didn't try to hurt you?"
Allanon nodded and he could see his former apprentice think about this. Bandon took an experimental step, hand outstretched toward the druid. But when he tried to touch the other man, the protective spell activated again. The young man stopped and he looked at his hand with a perplexed expression.
Why didn't it work?
This time, he didn't try to attack Allanon so why couldn't he touch him? Did Allanon lie to him? Did he hold back some information to just have an advantage on him by being able to touch him? Bandon mentally winced at this. He didn't like the idea at all of being unable to touch his adversary, when said adversary could.
Allanon seemed to guess some of Bandon's thoughts because he added "The spell used by this cell act on our desires, even the subconscious ones." He paused a second and said, "And even if you weren't trying to hurt me knowingly, it's still one of your desires."
Bandon raised an eyebrow at this.
"Because you want me to believe that despite everything I did, you don't want to stop me?" He asked.
Allanon shook his head and crossed his arms against his chest. "I want to stop your destructive quest." He admitted. "But I don't want to hurt you."
Bandon was shocked by Allanon's admission. He always thought that the druid was chasing him around the Four Lands to get rid of him. It was his duty as a druid to protect the kingdoms against threats... Even if the threat was his former apprentice.
"You thought I would believe you?" He said, but his voice wasn't very confident.
"I can touch you, right?" Retorted Allanon.
And the spell showed his sincerity. Allanon didn't want to hurt the young sorcerer. He just wanted to stop Bandon and his quest to resurrect the Warlock Lord, but he didn't want to kill him. Allanon knew he would have to do it if Bandon didn't give him the choice, but the druid hoped it wouldn't come to that.
Bandon tried to hide it, but he was disturbed by all of this. Why didn't the druid want him dead ? It wasn't logical...
"I tried to kill you several times." He said, incredulous. He looked at Allanon's eyes before adding, as if it was obvious, "You should hate me."
The druid sighed and shook his head. "I never hated you." He said, plainly.
The young sorcerer's eyes widened, even more disturbed than before. He couldn't believe what he just heard and didn't exclude the possibility that all of this was just a lie. The evil presence of the sword took the opportunity to whisper to him that he was right. The druid would do anything to protect the Four Lands, so maybe he was just trying to manipulate him. Allanon would wait until Bandon lowered his guard then he could get rid of him.
Without thinking, the young sorcerer tightened his grip on the sword. The weapon wasn't very happy about the situation. Yes Bandon still listened to it, but it could also feel it was losing some ground. Doubt had settled on its carrier's mind, making its task harder. The sword couldn't let the druid convince Bandon he was telling the truth. The young sorcerer frowned, feeling the beginning of a headache...
He didn't know what to do, didn't know if he could trust Allanon's words.
Bandon's trouble didn't escape the druid. Despite the sword, Allanon moved toward him but Bandon quickly stepped back. He bit back a small cry of surprise when his back suddenly bumped against a wall. He brought back the sword in front of him, like he tried to protect himself. For an instant, a glimmer of panic and apprehension shone in his eyes. Allanon stopped immediately, surprised to see the young sorcerer afraid of him.
Bandon had never been scared of him despite Allanon chasing him down for a year. Then, for a second, the druid remembered the first time he saw Bandon.
One more time, he could see the scared young man, chained in a barn like an animal. The druid had helped Wil free Bandon, and more importantly, to get him out of that awful muzzle that barely let him scream for help. Allanon could never understand how parents could do that to their own child. Still in shock after everything that happened to him, Bandon didn't say a single word when they traveled back to the capital.
When the druid thought about it, it wasn't surprising that Bandon was afraid. He was trapped again and couldn't use either his magic or his weapon. On top of that, Bandon was locked up with his enemy, and said enemy could touch him if he wanted.
Allanon realized that the situation wasn't the best to make Bandon trust him.
"I know you don't believe me, but I'm telling you the truth." Allanon said, trying to reassure him. "The spell would never allow me to touch you if I wanted to hurt you."
Bandon looked away, fixing his view to a faraway point in the cave. "You should hate me." He said after a moment. "I killed innocent people, a child... "
His voice quivered on the last word and Bandon closed his eyes. He had lost his temper in his childhood house and he regretted it. The boy's words were only the result of his education. He was young and probably not mature enough to make his own opinions. But to hear all of them speak of him like he was just a monster had totally upset him. Bandon wasn't thinking straight back then, and at the time, he had only wanted to make them pay.
It was because of people like them, like his parents, he was muzzled like a beast for the only crime of being born with magic. Burning with anger, he had made his choice. If because of his powers he was viewed as a monster then a monster he would become.
But after Bandon had time to calm down, to think about what he did, he felt guilty about the family's death. After the influence of the Dagda Mor had faded away, Bandon had been conscious again of his decisions despite the influence of the sword. When it happened, he already had blood on his hands so he promised himself he would only kill if it was necessary. It was the reason why Bandon was serious when he said he would heal Wil's uncle if the other boy came back with the skull before it was too late. However, the slaughter of the family was only motivated by Bandon's feelings...
Lost in thought, he didn't see Allanon's sad face. With this admission, the druid realized that his former apprentice had fallen into the Darkness more than he had thought. It was only strengthening the guilt he was feeling about Bandon. He couldn't stop himself to feel partially responsible about Bandon's situation. If only he hadn't forced the young sorcerer to use his power that day...
"I don't hate you." He said again.
The confidence in his voice, like what he said was the most obvious thing in the world, angered the young sorcerer. The sword clutched to Bandon's emotion, trying to kept its control on its owner.
"Why?! Why don't you hate me after everything I have done?!" Yelled Bandon, holding the sword's handle so tight that his knuckles whitened.
The druid stayed silent for an instant, choosing his next words carefully. "I don't hate you because I think you can still be saved." He said.
The admission felt like a slap. Bandon looked at Allanon, shock clear on his face. He opened his mouth to respond but he stopped himself almost instantly. He couldn't believe Allanon thought he could still bring Bandon back on the right path. The young sorcerer had thought about it a few times, but he was quickly convinced by the evil presence in his mind that it was impossible.
He was a murderer, a monster to kill... Not to save. So why did his former mentor persist like this?
The druid could see the confusion on his former apprentice's face but he didn't try to get closer. They were trapped inside a small space and the last thing Allanon wanted was to make him panic.
"What makes you think I want to be saved?" Bandon asked after a moment.
His voice wasn't as confident as he would have liked. The sword's dark energy hissed in his mind to not to believe the druid, to remember he would never obtain the power he wished if he listened to Allanon... But despite all of this, Bandon wasn't so sure anymore.
Even if the young man was lost in a sea of darkness, a spark of light still shined within him. It faltered from to time but it refused to die out.
"There's nothing to save anyways, I made my choice." He still added.
Allanon looked at him intently, like he was trying to read Bandon's thoughts. The young sorcerer knew it was impossible for the druid to use his powers on him but it was still uncomfortable to be under such an inquisitive gaze.
"Do you feel guilty?" He asked after a moment.
Bandon slightly tilted his head, not understanding where the druid where going with his question.
"You killed people." Explained Allanon. "Do you feel guilty about this?"
The boy's face came back to Bandon.
The anger and satisfaction he felt after he killed the child had been brief. After this, guilt crushed his chest every time he left his mind wander a bit too long. Bandon tried everything to ignore it, even trying to rationalize what he did. Throughout his journey, he had told himself that the boy would have grown up to become like these people that thought magic users were nothing more than demons. Just like the boy's parents...
Just like Bandon's parents.
He had also hoped that, once he became as powerful as he wanted, he wouldn't feel guilty anymore...
Bandon's face must have betray his thoughts because the druid had a slight smile.
"The guilt you feel is a good enough reason for me." He said gently. "If you were really lost to the Darkness, you wouldn't feel anything about those deaths."
"Guilt is only a proof of weakness." Bandon retorted, desperately trying to cling to his certainties. But all the things he had believed this year were quickly falling apart.
Allanon tried to answer him but the world suddenly spun around him. He began to fall forward, almost in slow motion. The druid tried to hold himself back but he was unable to do anything. It was like his whole body didn't want to listen to him anymore. The prison was draining him faster than he expected. If Wil and Mareth didn't came back soon, he was going to die, just like Wil's uncle.
Distantly, he heard Bandon's voice calling him. The young sorcerer reached him with his free hand, almost instinctively... and caught him by the arm.
Both men gave a shocked look at Bandon's hand.
The druid had a hard time believing what had just happened. It was obvious his former apprentice was totally lost about his feelings. However, Allanon had thought that Bandon's doubts would be in favor of the prison's spell. The magic used for this cell was powerful and the spell would be activated at the slightest desire of violence.
But Allanon had been wrong and for once, he was happy about it. Bandon was able to touch him.
The young sorcerer seemed to realize the same thing, because he tried to let go of Allanon. Only, the druid was quicker and he put his hand over Bandon's. His dizziness was over but the druid wasn't naive. His condition was going to get worse and he didn't have much time left to convince Bandon to give up his quest.
The young sorcerer wasn't looking at him, wondering why he was letting Allanon touch his hand. He had acted without thinking when he had stopped the druid's fall but now, he didn't know what to do. The sword's attempts to influence him were nothing less than a faint background noise for now, leaving Bandon to his own decisions.
And he was totally lost about what to do.
"Bandon, it's not too late." Whispered Allanon "You can still stop everything."
The young sorcerer finally took a step back with a grin when he heard this. Allanon didn't try to hold him back and Bandon was relieved about it even if he didn't show it. He already had a hard time to staying calm... He was making every effort in the world to resist Allanon's words. He could do it, he could ignore the druid and not change his plans.
But did he really want to resurrect the Warlock Lord?
Bandon didn't want to admit it but Allanon was right. It wasn't too late to stop everything but if he gave up his quest then he also gave up the power he desired. The power to not to be hurt again, chained again.
This was so ridiculous, he could have laughed. After everything he did, Bandon was already ready to give up! And because of Allanon! The young sorcerer had promised himself he would take revenge on the druid for sending him into the Dagda Mor's clutches. He thought about this for months and yet... He was laughably close to granting one last chance to Allanon.
"I already gave you my trust and we both see what happened." He mumbled. "What proof can you give me that it will be different this time?"
The druid mentally winced.
What could he answer to that? It was almost impossible for Allanon to find a good answer. He couldn't lie to Bandon, telling him that everything would be fine this time. He couldn't tell him that chasing away the Darkness inside him would be easy. The druid didn't even know about his own future. He wasn't even sure if he would still be alive next month.
What could he say to Bandon then? The druid gazed at his former apprentice, searching for an appropriate answer.
"Things will be different, but I can't tell you that an easy path waits for you if you give up on your quest" He answered honestly.
Bandon frowned at this but he didn't say a word, giving Allanon a chance to explain himself. He could admit it to himself; he was rather satisfied that the druid didn't try to lie to him. Bandon wasn't stupid and if Allanon had offered him lies and nonsense, it would have angered him.
"But you won't be alone, I will be at yours side as long as the gods let me." Allanon said. "And if I can promise you only one thing, it's that I will never betray your trust again."
The young sorcerer bit his lower lip but the druid didn't miss the flash of hope shinning in Bandon's eyes when he heard this.
"And between us, you're the one who can see the future, so you should be able to tell me if things will be different." Added Allanon.
Bandon gave an involuntary small smile at Allanon's poor attempt at humor and the druid smiled back.
Then, they both stayed silent, lost in theirs respective thoughts. With a sigh, the young sorcerer closed his eyes, trying to make a decision after everything he had heard. The sword's evil presence could still reach him but it voice was just a whisper for now. For the first time in a year, Bandon could almost think clearly and he had a choice to make.
And for the first time in a year, he also realized that, perhaps, he didn't want to really be an evil sorcerer.
"Say it again.." He asked with a quivering voice. "Say it again that it's not too late."
Pathetic. He was pathetic. He was close to tears and inside of him, the evil presence of the sword howled in anger. Bandon was escaping from its embrace and it couldn't do anything to stop him.
Allanon could see both his former apprentice's inner turmoil and the tears in his eyes. He would never admit it but it was always hard for him to see someone in distress. When he was young, it often broke his heart to not to be able to help everyone who needed help. However he tried to harden himself, as druids were supposed to always think about the greater good first. He had to admit that, sometimes, sacrifices had to be made.
Allanon mentally shook his head at this. It was because of this kind of resentment that he lost Bandon to the darkness in the first place. Allanon took a deep breath, making his choice. If he failed now he had the feeling he would never be able to 'save' the young elf again and he couldn't let that happen.
Slowly, without a word, Allanon held out his hand. The message was clear and now, it was Bandon's turn to make his choice.
His thoughts were a mess and he had the impression he would be able to stay frozen in indecision for hours. Only, he didn't have much time. Wil and Mareth would be back soon, with or without the skull. For an instant, Bandon thought about accepting Allanon's proposition, and to lay a trap after this. But the young sorcerer quickly gave up this idea. He wasn't fond about using manipulation and he only took Wil's uncle hostage because he didn't know what else to do. He had never wanted to hurt the young Shannara, and Wil had only been friendly with him in the past.
He stared at Allanon's hand, then at the druid's hopeful eyes and he made his choice. Despite his distrust and the sword's protestations, he took the offered hand.
Allanon let out a small relieved sigh when Bandon managed to touch him again. He hesitated for a second before he gently squeezed Bandon's hand. He didn't say anything, not wanting to make Bandon change his mind.
The young sorcerer wasn't looking at him, visibly struggling with his decision. What he was going to do now? Wait for the two half elves to come back, heal Wil's uncle and then what? Bandon had blood on his hands and the path toward redemption would be awfully difficult.
This idea was just scary.
Despite himself, he felt panic grow within him. What was he thinking? Of course it would be difficult! The darkness living inside him would never let go of him easily. He was afraid of not being strong enough to resist it just like the first time. He didn't even know if he really wanted the Darkness to leave him...
Bandon slightly shook his head, trying to get himself together. However, between his chaotic feelings and the sword's attempts to keep him under its control, he wasn't able to calm down.
"I... I'm sorry." He mumbled without thinking.
Allanon gave him a surprised look, but Bandon didn't see it, still staring at his feet.
"What I've done... " He said. "I'm sorry about the people I killed... "
He was talking fast, like he was trying to take away the burden lodged in his chest. He felt as if he couldn't breath, as if the Darkness would rather drown him than let him go. Bandon tried to talk again when Allanon put his free hand on his right cheek. It startled the young sorcerer, and without Allanon still holding his hand, he would have taken a step back. Bandon still had trouble with letting people touch him. Years of trauma because of his powers couldn't be forgotten so easily...
Bandon raised his head, finally looking at his former mentor.
He was instantly shocked by how exhausted Allanon was. It was a miracle that the druid was still able to stand. Bandon suddenly remembered, Allanon was dying. Earlier, he had been happy with this idea... Now the young sorcerer found that he didn't want Allanon to die.
"Bandon, you need to breathe." The druid said with a worried voice.
It took a minute for Bandon to understand why Allanon was telling him that. He was close to hyperventilating, his respiration erratic and difficult. He then felt the wetness on his cheeks and he realized he was crying, choking on his sobs. Bandon took several shuddering breaths, trying to calm down despite the pain in his chest. Allanon watched him with concern but he didn't know what else to say, afraid to make it worse. The druid then decided to tighten his hold on Bandon's hand, trying to ground him back to the present.
Minutes passed before Bandon finally managed to breathe even again. His head hurt and his breathing was still shaky but the worst of the crisis was over. He rubbed his eyes with his free hand, chasing away the tears. He felt weary but he didn't know if it was because of his anxiety attack or if the cell's magic was finally affecting him too.
Allanon waited until Bandon had stopped crying before moving again. Slowly, allowing the younger man to step back if he wanted to, Allanon put his forehead against Bandon's. The young sorcerer froze at the contact but he didn't move away. He was beginning to admit that Allanon didn't want to hurt him. In his mind, the sword's voice was almost silent.
"About what you have done in the past, I will help you to face the consequences." Promised Allanon. "I will help you to move on." He gave him a gentle smile. "We will work on this together, okay?"'
Allanon's voice was calm, reassuring, but it was the word "together" that touched him deeply. He could feel tears gather in his eyes again but he didn't do anything about them. Right now, the young sorcerer had almost no control over his feelings and he didn't have the strength to fight against them anymore.
Well, almost no the strength.
He still barely managed to repress the desire to throw himself into Allanon's arms to ask for a hug. He still had some dignity after all. Instead, he pressed his forehead a bit more against Allanon's and whispered, "Okay."
He closed his eyes and slowly, almost absently, he let go of the sword. The weapon fell next to Bandon's feet with a loud sound, but the young man didn't open his eyes.
For the first time in a year, the spark of light inside him shone stronger than ever.