I wake up with a burning sensation in my eyes as the morning light streams through the small window, tinting the room orange. I blinked a few times, trying to push away the irritation, until I managed to keep my eyes open. The worn wooden ceiling and exposed beams have become part of my routine, as present as the weakness that has accompanied me since I ended up in this damn hospital.
I let out a sigh and try to stand up, supporting myself on the back of the bed. My body still feels heavy, the muscles stiff as if they weren't mine. But with some effort, I manage to sit up.
"I think that's progress…" I mumble, exhausted. "Two weeks ago, I could barely move a muscle."
I rest my head against the wall and, as I look to the right, my eyes find my mother's palisman resting next to the headboard... or rather, my palisman now.
I reach out and grab the staff, whose tip is carved in the shape of a black crow and seems to silently watch over the room. The touch awakens the creature. With a greenish glow in its eyes, Jade slowly opens its wings, stretching before looking at me.
— Hi, Jade — I murmur, my voice slurred with fatigue.
She responds with a hoarse croak, shaking her feathers as if still trying to wake up.
I let out a soft laugh, but soon my face turns serious again.
— I'm sorry I don't give you the attention you deserve... — I murmur, gently sliding my hand through her feathers. — Everything seems so confusing without her. But that's not an excuse, right? You must be suffering as much as I am.
Jade lets out a low, melancholic croak before jumping onto my chest, snuggling into a silent embrace.
I don't say anything else. I just stay there, lying down, feeling his warmth for long minutes.
When she finally pulls away, I loosen my fingers and carefully release her.
— I promise I'll make up for this mistake as soon as we get out of this hell.
Jade croaks softly, as if accepting my promise.
A soft sound makes me look up. The door opens and Doctor Hamilton walks in, ready for another one of his daily check-ups.
— I see you're awake.
He approaches the bed, with the same calm and gentle smile as always.
— Your skin tone has improved. It's not as pale as it used to be.
— I think so too… — I murmur, massaging my arm with an automatic gesture. — But I really wish I could move without these damn muscle pains.
Dr. Hamilton frowned, giving me a reprimanding look.
—What did I tell you about that dirty mouth? Ten-year-olds shouldn't talk like that, Damian.
My expression darkens and I silently begin to caress Jade, lost in thought.
— What can I say, doctor? I was raised by someone with a strong personality, who didn't care much about such nonsense about good manners.
Dr. Hamilton watches me silently for a moment before letting out a tired sigh.
— I don't know if it's a blessing or not that you have that kind of intelligence for your age.
He reaches out and, with a fluid gesture, traces a magic circle in the air. A blue glow fills the room for a moment, before his palm begins to emit a soft light. Without saying a word, he places his hand on my head and closes his eyes, sinking into concentration. Magic courses through my body, bringing a slight tingling sensation, and I stand there, motionless, just feeling the energy flow through me.
After a few minutes, the doctor steps back and undoes the magic.
— Your body is recovering well. If this continues, you could be discharged in five days.
— I understand. — My voice sounds monotonous, emotionless.
He hesitates for a moment before speaking.
— After you are discharged, Dona Alice will pick you up and take you to the orphanage in the Scalded Islands.
My hand instinctively grips the sheets, Anger and frustration quickly fill my chest
- …Understood.
As always, the doctor notices my anguish. He gives me that look of pity that I'm tired of seeing.
— Damian, I know you've been through a lot... But Mrs. Alice is a good person. At the orphanage, you'll be able to meet other children, make friends. You don't have to see it as a burden.
I don't answer. My eyes drift toward the window, watching the street outside.
The Scalded Isle throbs with life. Magical creatures of all kinds roam the streets. Demons, great and small, mingle with one another, while others fly on broomsticks, cutting through the air between the wooden roofs. Each one goes about its business, oblivious to my existence.
Doctor Hamilton lets out another sigh before heading for the door.
— I'll ask the nurse to bring your coffee.
With that, he left, closing the door silently behind him.
I clench my teeth tightly.
— So that's it? Just like that? They're going to pretend she never existed while I live my "happily ever after" in some backwater?
Jade croaks, tilting her head.
— Talking is easy, but…
My hands begin to shake, and the weight on my chest becomes unbearable.
— WHY DID EVERYONE FORGET ABOUT HER? — My voice comes out choked, hoarse with anger and pain. — EVEN AFTER EVERYTHING SHE DID TO SAVE YOUR PATHETIC LIVES?!
I hold my breath, my eyes burning. Jade watches me intently, without moving away.
— WHY AM I THE ONLY ONE WHO STILL CARES?
I close my eyes tightly, trying to control the tears. But I fail miserably.
— WHY DID SHE HAVE TO SACRIFICE HERSELF FOR A USELESS SON WHO CAN BARELY DO MAGIC?
Jade snuggles into my chest once more, groaning loudly. Her sound is like a persistent whisper, almost as if she's telling me I'm not useless. That I'm not alone.
Tears stream down my face, mixing with her feathers and the sheet. I hug her tighter, seeking some comfort in her small, warm presence.
— …Why did she abandon me in this meaningless world?
The sound of the door opening makes me hold my breath. I keep my head down, trying to hide the nurse's tears. But instead of the usual soft, welcoming voice, what reaches me is a husky, strangely familiar tone.
— What a crybaby you are.
My head suddenly snaps up.
At the entrance to the room, I see a figure wrapped in a black cloak. His face is hidden, but I can feel his gaze piercing through me, as if he were judging my soul.
— W-who are you? — I ask quickly, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably.
The man locks the door behind him and takes a few steps forward, his movements calm and confident.
— An old acquaintance of yours.
With each step, my body stiffens, tension building within me.
He approaches the bed, and his voice echoes again, laden with drowsiness.
— We have a lot to talk about, crybaby.