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Zahhak could vaguely remember it all.
The twist of his hand, the drop of his blade.
The lunge straight ahead from right behind.
Upon opening his eyes again, he noticed his reflection in the lake. With a hasty glance, he looked around himself and analysed this place that was oh so familiar yet oh so… strange to him.
The birds were singing their morning song, the other forest animals dug their holes and chewed their food without a care for the world.
“Are you finished yet?”
Zahhak instantly turned around and put his firm grasp on the hilt of his blade, his gaze locked onto the figure that seemed to call for him. His shoes dug deep into the ground. His focus was sharp like a newly forged blade.
“Sheesh, raring to go again already?” Ran said, unamused by him pulling his sword on him. Zahhak recognised that expression, it was the one he always carried when he was still wounded from a freshly lost match. “Maybe another time, what do you say?”
Just as Zahhak’s lips parted, just as he wanted to reply, just as he wanted to reach for Ran to see or feel if it was really him… Ran vanished.
So did the lake. It was all black again.
“Advisor… Advisor…” A new voice called. One dressed in irritation and rich arrogance. “There are limits to the places you can take my patience, you know that, don't you, Zahhak?”
Zahhak opened his eyes and found himself in the streets of Natalon. By his side, the young Emperor he could recall so well. He talked about how he wanted to visit the Summer Temple today, so he escorted him there.
“Speaking of, advisor.” Zio suddenly stopped, looking over his shoulder and glaring at him with disdain. “It's unattractive for you to walk around with your blade unsheathed. Put it back where it belongs.”
Just as Zahhak did that, following his order like second nature, Zio vanished much like Ran did before. The bright streets in the middle of the day, bustling with familiar unknown faces of the people of Theranhad disappearing with him.
This was getting uncomfortable.
“Your face is heating up.” Two pairs of hands caressed his body, one pair applying elemental magic to control his… Fever? And the other applying a substance to his… wounds?
“Zahhak. You incompetent fool.” Aria said, her voice recognisable as ever. “What use do we have for you if you end up dying?! Did you think Ran wanted you to sacrifice yourself into an early grave?!”
“...Sis… Stop yelling at him. He's not even fully conscious.” Amid tried to control her, gentle as always, just as he remembered her. “Suthan and Ran will return soon with the herbs. It was a worthwhile endeavor… Thanks to the two of them, we have enough for you to survive another month.”
“...I'll be quiet. If that's what you want.”
Nothing else was said between them.
Amid only forced a smile every time Zahhak caught a glance in her direction. Though he could tell, it was getting more and more difficult every time, so he ceased doing it eventually.
“You shouldn't be here.” Zahhak whispered, falling back into slumber. He wanted her to stop wasting another second on him, and put those precious moments to use elsewhere.
He didn't know how much time had passed, between the moment his eyes shut down and the next time he'd open them again. He wasn't given the luxury of keeping his sanity with that aching pain inside his chest.
And then… His eyes snapped open.
It felt like a daydream, one undeserved yet graciously bestowed upon him, to witness the sights of the dark blue leaves outside his window, even at this time of night.
His sore body, he forced it to obey his command and pushed himself to the window, gazing upon the forest.
He doubted anyone would be awake at this hour, he hoped not, it would make his next course of action… much more unbearable to execute.
He put pressure on his stomach, to stop the wound from reopening.
Unfortunately, there were no sandals or other shoe wear in front of his door to make use of. He quickly realised, they too were a luxury he was no longer worthy of.
And his movement would be stealthier without them.
The stairs in front of this building, carved into the tree, looked dangerous and unwelcoming. They had nothing accompanying them to hold onto besides the tree itself, and of course it was by design, to motivate oneself against rushing up and down in quick fashion.
He glared all the way down. It was far from the highest heights and it wouldn't even compare against the floating island he lived on for millenia. Had his body been fully functional, it could even be a jump he'd easily survive.
Had his body been, in fact, fully functional.
His hair was a mess, his legs were shaky, his fingers now trembling and even his earrings were removed he quickly realised, likely in an attempt to bring him some more comfort during his sleep.
He was only dressed in a long robe, and the white pants that resembled the one that was part of pure white trust.
With him stripped of his usual attire, there was no talisman to hold onto. Nothing helped him stabilize his emotions like it did before. As a result his breathing rapidly increased in its pace as his vision blurred. The spiky ticks in his chest resurfacing as his gaze fell upon the flowers planted in the soil at the base of the tree.
Tears grew in the corners of both of his eyes, the pain ushering him to make an expression he'd never have allowed himself to make otherwise. He could steadily, surely, most definitely feel himself losing his balance.
As if the mockery wasn't humiliating enough, he tripped and fell to his knee, the wood of the platform barely scraping him and likely leaving behind a new injury, small as it was.
It burned.
Not the wound, not the tears prickling in his eyes, not the aching in his chest.
What burned was how his tongue lacked the strength to help him call out the only name he wanted to call out for, after a lifetime of silence and denial.
As he was losing his consciousness again, he sighed, and let the gentle breeze push him into whatever direction it ever so wished for. If he was fated to be reunited with the flowers below…
So be it.
A sharp cold breeze surrounded him, enabling him to let go of that last bit of hope that anyone would be here, let alone care enough to simply pull him back from his inevitable demise.
And so… be it.
“Damn it.”
A pair of arms pulled him up into a tight embrace, the arms were stronger now and more muscular than those familiar to him thought was possible. Whereas he had grown in size, like a mad man training every day, the precious friend he lifted up had weakened, seeming much smaller now.
He hid his face in his chest and rubbed his face adamantly against his skin, holding his breath so as to make sure his heartbeat had not stopped.
Fortunately, all was well. He desperately thanked whichever deity was out there looking out for him, despite his insistence on being an irreligious person before.
“Zahhak.” His lips parted, and again they closed. It was his basic instinct to want to scold him for doing something so dangerous, but he pushed against it. “It's not like you'd hear me anyway right now.”
He kissed him on his neck, once again grateful he hadn't lost him tonight. His friend's natural scent comforted him, as did his subconscious grip on his clothes.
“Don't give up.” He told him, wanting him to hear those words out loud even if he wasn't conscious. “I'm with you. Always will.” He grabbed his hand and nuzzled his knuckles gently, forgetting all about the embarrassment he felt for physical affection. “You’re safe… I promise, you're safe.”
He carried him back to his bed, and whilst he was planning to stand guard on the chair, like he usually did, he couldn't bear to leave his friend to suffer through his nightmares alone.
He hoped, if by any chance his presence could help, that Zahhak could endure and perhaps even push through them with him by his side.
He took off his shirt, and joined him, making sure to hug him tight. Ever since he heard and felt a sense of peaceful snoring from Zahhak with him close by, he gradually got closer to him during these times.
He took it slow at first, but now he slightly blushed at the sight of the two of them. Hesitation wasn't an accurate description, not at all, just… Doubt, of whether it was right for him to indulge in this.
Yet, every time he tried to remove himself from Zahhak, like he was never there, like how it had been for the longest time, his brows furrowed and his eyelids trembled.
He gave up and put on a smile, one that was a tad bit worried and yet mostly genuine.
“You're safe now.” He whispered. “When you've fully recovered… You, me and Amid will walk through Theranhad. For as long as you wish.” He snuggled up to him and closed his eyes, preparing himself for their combined nightrest. “I promise.”
For a moment, Zahhak's eyes seemed to almost open… Or, who knows, maybe the darkness was playing tricks on him.
“...You're more precious than life, you know that?” Ran grinned, caressing his hair gently and shifting closer to him. It had been so long since he had seen those deep, lively blue eyes…
But he'd wait, as long as it took. Until he was ready. “I’ll keep you warm, so… Hehe, goodnight and sleep well.”
“...”