Once the tension had lessened, the bustle of the dormant forest awakened. The crickets and animals began their nightly routine.
At Fedlimid's bedside, everyone waited for him to give more than his breath as a sign of life. With dark magic, Seisyll cleansed his bloody body, his patient looking more sick than anything else. Sometimes he groaned as if in a nightmare. From time to time, his eyelids parted way in a nocturnal activity burst that was the witness of his nightmare. It let the black nurse see how red the white of his eyes was. The veins were no more than a monochrome dark-red mess.
Fedlimid's illness was much more than complicated, for the spell to create a magician was forbidden in the kingdom.
