Empire of Man

For some reason, the memory of that that kiss pulled on her heart. Everything about this man was terrifying to her. His eyes, the color of the alpine sky that flushed with shades of violet when he was happy made her shiver. The crinkles that creased his eyelids and the laughter lines bracketing the corners of his mouth were like familiar landmarks she followed home. And Lan’s arm around her had become quite comfy.

What was this place to her? Who were these people? What did she owe them? They had lied to her and hidden the truth. She had almost died because no one had told her what was going on. What other danger would she be put in because of the elders? Why hadn’t the village been warned that there were so many people being murdered along the caravan trails? Why hadn’t they warned her?

Before too long Lan was pulling the reigns and dismounting with expert ease. Despite the flurry of activity around them, Lan made certain that Lyla was seen to before he dealt with anyone else. It wasn’t necessary for him to actively participate in the introductions and official greetings. After all, he wasn’t the one in charge. Gratefully Lyla let her protector take her by the waist and lift her softly to the ground.

Brisk spring winds whipped her hair about her face. As tenderly as everything else he had done, Lan caught a few of the loose locks and tucked them behind her ear. This was just one more of the many things that he had done to express care. That simple act didn’t go unnoticed. In the periphery, family and neighbors who had known Lyla her whole life watched the blush that colored her cheeks rosy out of the corners of their eyes. Making note to find out more about that later. There were rare visitors to their valley and that was far more important.

When Lan escorted her to the outstretched arms of her concerned mother and father, he kept one hand firmly on her lower back. The guide was necessary because so many people were there, wanting to touch her, get her attention, and clamoring for information once they realized that the visitors weren’t going to just forget why they had come and lose their professionalism. As Lan returned Lyla to her family Wroth introduced her guardian.

It was a blur and flurry of motion, sound, and emotion. Lyla focused on one person at a time, but it didn’t stop the dizziness which spread far too quickly. She was so exhausted. Despite the bright sun filtering through the heavy fog, darkness crowded around her.

Lyla’s vision darkened to a tunnel-like corridor. In a span of moments, Lyla’s world shortened. All she could see was what was in front of her face. Short sharp breaths were all the oxygen she could get. It felt like the air was being squeezed out of her lungs. But worse was the raw, searing, pain that filled her chest and the pooling fluidic feeling that followed. With a growing sense of terror, Lyla felt her legs giving out beneath her. The numb weakness worked its way up Lyla’s body. She felt herself shutting down.

It had been years since this had happened. Random and unexplained; supposedly something had always triggered it; fire smoke, pollen, running, jumping, climbing, foods, drinks, trying to be a normal child. But she had tonics and medicines for this.

This shouldn’t have been a problem. This shouldn’t be happening. But she had been gone for days. And she had lost her medicine pouch three or was it four days ago. Worse luck she hadn’t been able to find all the ingredients she needed on the trek back.

Lyla was dying. Why now? Why had she been fine the whole time she was gone but upon her return to her home, her illness returned? Her muscles went first, followed quickly by her sense of touch. The all-consuming pain came next, but only on the inside. That burning-drowning sensation that was unmistakable.

She felt like she’d been poisoned. Her sight was one of the last things to go, and all the while there wasn’t a thing she could say to get help because her throat was so swollen. Hearing was last. After she couldn’t speak, see, feel, move; then she could still hear the people around her.

That had always been the worst part of these episodes. With crystal clarity, while her body was completely beyond her control, Lyla had to hear what was going on around her. How good her chances of survival were. How terrible she looked.

And more than once, when there was no one else to overhear, a confession of love from someone who was supposed to be watching her and keeping her healthy while she recovered but instead did things that he shouldn’t have been doing. Unfortunately, Lyla only knew what was happening because he told her with horrid slippery little whispers what he was doing. The only mercy was that she couldn’t feel the pain as it happened.

Only the healer had believed her. Her parents had of course thought that she had been hallucinating due to her ordeal. An influential man who had been respected; he’d also been a healer. Old Reane, the village healer, did not welcome her former husband to her home anymore.

Those were the memories that flew through Lyla’s mind as the darkness rushed in and settled over all of her. Eventually, the sound became muted and indistinct. Eventually, there was nothing left but the pain, alone in the dark. Maybe she’d wake up this time. Maybe she wouldn’t. At least she wouldn’t have the constant fear of not waking up anymore if she didn’t wake up this time.