I decide to get up and force my way over to the wooden rod using the bed and walls around me as support to get it. When I am within a few feet from it I reach over to grab it but am a few inches short and I fall over. I hit the ground with a thud, knocking over the stick, I decide to pick up the stick and I use it, and the wall, to drag myself up on my feet... er foot I mean. When I get back on my foot, Zane opens the door, probably back because of the loud bang I created with my fall.
"I see you noticed the cane I left in here for you to use," He says, in a warm voice, "I thought it would be helpful for you to have some sort of support to walk and move around so I decided to leave you this old cane to use." And he props the door open all the way allowing me to freely leave the room. "I will let you wander around as long as you are careful, I don't want to get hurt again." And with that, I thank him and drag myself out of the room.
The house is as beautiful as the world outside, an extravagant chandelier hangs from the roof. Massive windows line the walls displaying beautiful terrain outside for all to see and warm light floods in. I take a few steps forward embracing the beautiful scene, and I stand there for several minutes letting it soak in.
Suddenly I feel a pain in my head, like a knife lodged inside my skull. All thoughts are redacted from my mind, and everything I know and see is blurred beyond comprehension. I grasp my head helplessly as my consciousness spirals into a frenzy of confusion and agony. Then darkness follows. Not the peaceful kind of darkness that unconsciousness holds, but a restless and chaotic darkness.
Then light returns, and my mind is once again at ease. When I look around I notice I am back in bed and Zane has a wet rag pressed against my forehead. Zane's face is one of intense concern, I assume which is mostly directed toward me. I close my eyes to think, but when my vision goes dark after closing my eyes I feel something unfamiliar in my mind. It feels like some kind of knowledge that is both wrong and right at the same time.
"Are you feeling ok?" Zane asks me, and I pry open my eyes again, "You suddenly collapsed earlier and I don't know what happened. Do you know what happened?" his concern is warming but I honestly don't know what happened, I mean I didn't die, that much I do know, but other than that I know nothing.
"I am feeling fine, thank you," I lie, and sit up as he removes the rag from my forehead, "I think I will get up and try to move around some more, it might've just been the shock of it, I need to get used to walking with one leg." And I grab the stick to my left and drag myself out of bed. Zane gets up and stops me.
"You need your rest, maybe tomorrow," He says in a demanding tone, "I can't let you risk harming yourself any more than you already have." I decide to listen to him and lie down and I close my eyes embracing the unfamiliar sense of knowledge that lurks within my mind.
I hear him leave the room and close the door after a few moments and I sit there silently waiting. I am going to leave tonight, whether Zane likes it or not. I lie there staring at the ceiling as the seconds tick by, waiting for the right moment to sneak out.
After about fifteen to twenty minutes I sit up and grab my stick, drag myself gently out of bed, and move myself to the window. The view is just as beautiful at night as it was in the morning, and I just sit there in awe for several moments distracted by its beauty. Finally, I grab the bottom of the window and pull upwards trying to pry open the window, and at first, I don't feel it give way, but after a few seconds, I hear a slight creak, and the window slams open.
Quick to get out, before Zane comes around to investigate the noise, I throw the stick out the window and, while using the window frame as a support, I drag myself out after it. Upon exiting through the window I find myself lying in the pretty, purple grass, and I reach over to my stick and prop myself up onto my leg and get back up.
Suddenly I hear the door slam open and I see Zane, his expression furious. I quickly move away from the house into the forest, using the stick as a replacement for my missing leg, and swiftly escape his grasp.
I find myself moving through the forest drastically slower than I initially thought I would be going, and after about 2 hours I feel as if I made no progress. Suddenly I trip over something in the grass and find myself sprawled out, and my stick nowhere to be seen. I grasp around for my stick and lie my hands on something smooth and round, like a polished staff. I grasp this object with both of my hands and draw it towards my face and look at it. 'The Mithrian Moon' the shiny black rod reads in extravagant text, and I rotate the pole, revealing a long crescent-shaped blade, nearly taller than myself. It appears to be the exact same one from my dream.
I sit there thinking for several long moments and come to one conclusion, I hate having one leg. I turn the sharp, curved blade on myself and in one swift strike and slice my throat, ending my own life. I mean I hurt, but only briefly, and wasn't nearly as bad as lacking a leg.
I wake up finding myself lying on the ground with the scythe in my hand. I twist around to get a better view of my legs and to my relief, my leg is back, I draw myself back to my feet and walk deeper into the forest, willing to do anything to leave this disgustingly pretty place.