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Therion hadn’t expected hell to feel like a soft bed and warm blankets, although he wasn’t surprised that everything hurt. He slowly opened his eyes and bit back a pained groan. If he was in hell, it was most certainly the strangest version he had ever heard of. He hadn't pictured hell with wooden ceiling beams, candlelight or the soft crackle of a hearth-fire. It wouldn’t smell like herbs and water, although the tinge of blood wouldn’t be out of place. Surely there would be either tormented screams of the damned, or maybe just a dark void of nothingness.
Unless this is a hell tailored just for me ? Therion wondered. It only seems safe, but as soon as I get out of bed or start looking around, I'll see that it isn't safe at all. Or maybe it is a cage and everything that I have ever wanted will be outside, just out of my grasp…
Therion took in a slow breath. Might as well find out just what is waiting for me.
Therion struggled to sit up, but cried out as pain lanced up his arms.
Okay, that hurt too much for me to be dead , Therion thought, wheezing as he forced himself still. If I’m not dead, then...what happened? Where am I?
"You're awake! You gave me quite the scare there, boy.”
Therion looked over towards the voice, and saw a man approaching. He had blonde hair that he kept tied back, a beard, brilliant blue eyes, and a kind smile. His clothes were travel-worn, although clearly well-made. He knelt next to where Therion lay and placed a hand against Therion’s forehead, and another to his own. A moment later, he nodded, seemingly satisfied.
“I was afraid that I was going to lose you, but you’re stronger than you look!” the man said as he gave Therion an encouraging smile.
"Where am I?" Therion asked.
"In a small house in the Cliftlands," the man said. "I couldn't transport you far in your condition, but a family was nice enough to lend us shelter until you are healed."
Therion looked away. “Why’d you bother?”
“To save you?”
“...yeah.”
“You were injured--it would go against my oath as an apothecary to abandon you,” the man said. “My name is Graham. What’s yours?”
“Why do you want to know?”
“You don’t have to tell me, but I’d like to call you something more than ‘boy.’”
After a long pause, Therion turned to face Graham again and said, “I’m Therion.”
“I’m glad I met you, Therion,” Graham replied with a gentle smile. “You’re going to have to rest a little while longer for your body to fully recover. But, don’t worry, I won’t leave you until you’re all better.”
Therion felt tears threatening and he snapped, “Maybe you should! Maybe you should just--just--just leave me alone!”
Therion hated the kindness, the sadness, in Graham’s eyes. Graham brushed some hair out of Therion’s face, and Therion could feel bandages against his skin at the slight pressure.
“I don’t know what or who hurt you,” Graham said, his voice soft and low. “But, I think, with you, my journey is at an end. I found the medicine I need and I have a son at home. He might be a bit younger than you, but I think he wouldn’t mind a companion.”
“No! Just leave me alone! Let me die! I shouldn’t be--you don’t know --”
Therion tried to sit up again, but his body wouldn’t listen and he collapsed back onto the mattress with a cry of frustration.
I trusted Darius, and he tried to kill me ! Therion thought. I trusted him, cared for him, and he left me to die! Why? I thought...I thought we were friends. Why would he do something like that? I don’t understand!
Therion didn’t realize that he had begun crying until he felt Graham wipe away tears. He tried to push away Graham’s hand, but moving his arms was agonizing, and breathing was becoming progressively more difficult the more he cried.
“Stay still, Therion,” Graham said, putting a little bit of pressure on Therion’s sternum. “I don’t want you opening any of your wounds or hurting yourself more.”
“I should die,” Therion half-sobbed. “I should just die .”
“The fact that you survived says you should be alive.”
Therion shook his head. “No. No! I shouldn’t....I’m nothing. No one to anyone.”
“You mean something to me now.”
Therion couldn’t really see Graham’s face through his tears, but the conviction in the man’s voice just made Therion angry.
“You don’t know me! You don’t know what I’ve done, who I’ve been. I...I’ve been in jail! And stolen lots of things!”
“Just because that was how your life was doesn’t necessarily mean that it has to stay that way.”
“What else can I do?” Therion demanded, anger and grief intertwining into emotional pain to match his physical agony. “What else?”
“You can be Therion Crossford. How does that sound to you?”
“W-what?”
“I’ll adopt you. You can be my second son. I’ll teach you how to recognize beneficial herbs and plants when you’re ready to return to my home--your home. I’ll show you how to make basic remedies and poultices, things that will help you or an injured person survive in a pinch. That way, instead of stealing from people, you can help them.”
“Why should I help them in the first place? People just...just...use you and then kick you off a cliff.”
“So that’s how you got so badly injured,” Graham murmured to himself. “It truly is a miracle you survived. However, since you did survive, you should repay the gods. You have a chance to do good now, Therion. Will you spit in their faces for giving you the gift of life?”
“I don’t want it,” Therion snapped. “What...what use is it?”
Graham readjusted the blankets on Therion’s body and said, “Life is precious, Therion. I have spent years perfecting my abilities to preserve the bodies of others. I am not as adept at saving their mind--I am no cleric, merely a man who is skilled with his hands and the bounty of nature. But, I think...that whomever hurt you is in the wrong.”
“But, he...he was all I had,” Therion whispered. “Why did…? I don’t get it .”
“Some people are just plain mean,” Graham responded and smoothed down the covers. “There’s no why, they hurt because it makes them feel better to abuse people kinder than they.”
“I’m not...I’m not kind. I’m not a good person. I’m just trying to...”
“Not die?” Graham offered.
“...I guess.”
Graham smiled at him. “I have water boiling for a tea that I’d like you to drink. I managed to get some honey off of a traveling merchant, so it’ll at least cut into the bitter taste. One day, I’m going to find a way to make my teas taste better. Maybe you could help.”
Therion sighed and settled into the mattress. He was pretty sure it was objectively uncomfortable, but he hadn’t slept in an honest-to-gods bed in a very long time.
“Maybe,” he eventually grumbled. “But don’t count on it. I’ll probably just leave once I’m better.”
“That will be your choice,” Graham responded. “Until then, why don’t I explain to you what I’ve used to help you heal? You were quite the challenge, so the least you can do is listen.”
Therion huffed, but found that something dangerously close to hope had wormed its way into his chest.