Kapitel 70: Aldwyn Awakens
Aldwyn stirred, his consciousness returning to him like a slow tide. He took a deep breath and felt the plush pillow beneath his head, the warmth of a fur-laden blanket enveloping him. His surroundings were unfamiliar—a stark contrast to the cold, unforgiving ground of the carriage floor he had felt moments ago. He sat up, his eyes adjusting to the dimly lit space. He was in a luxurious room, the walls adorned with velvet tapestries depicting scenes of opulence and grandeur. A large four-poster bed with curtains of rich crimson fabric dominated the space, the scent of exotic incense heavy in the air.
He glanced down at his torso, noticing a bandage that stretched from his left shoulder to his right hip. The fabric was stiff with dried blood, and he could feel the tender, throbbing pulse of a wound beneath it. He touched it gently, his eyes narrowing in pain and confusion. The scar from the sword was real, a gruesome testament to the battle he had just endured.
The door to the chamber creaked open, and a maid with wide eyes and a gasped breath stepped through the threshold. She was a young human girl, her cheeks flushed and her apron askew. "M-my lord," she stuttered, her eyes flickering over the bandages. "You've... you've awakened."
The maid, visibly relieved, hurried over to him, her hands trembling as she helped him lie back down on the plush pillows. She moved with an urgency that suggested she had been waiting for this moment for quite some time.
Her eyes searched his face for any signs of distress, her hands moving to unravel the crimson-stained bandage with gentle care. The scent of the incense grew stronger as she worked, mixing with the coppery tang of his blood. Her movements were swift but precise, as if she had performed this task many times before—though the sight of his wound clearly unnerved her.
"Where am I?" Aldwyn's voice was raspy, his throat parched from his ordeal.
"You are in the manor of Lord Adrian and Lady Roxanne," the maid replied, her voice quaking.
„How the hell did I end up in Vellaris?" He asked himself.
After she had finished changing the bandages, the maid offered him a cup of water with trembling hands. He took it gratefully, feeling the cool liquid soothing his parched throat. She spoke in hushed tones, "I'll go and inform the lord and lady of your awakening. They've been worried."
Her hasty retreat left Aldwyn alone with his thoughts. His encounter with Ygannea had been enlightening yet perplexing. He pondered over her words about the Great War and the Primeval entity, his mind racing to connect the dots between the ancient conflict and his present predicament.
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Just as he was about to delve deeper into his thoughts, the sound of quick footsteps echoed down the hallway, growing louder by the second. He tensed, his hand instinctively reaching for the revolver that was no longer at his side. The door to the chamber flew open, and a figure leapt into the room with the grace of a startled deer.
It was Lila, her eyes wide with shock and relief, and she didn't hesitate. Her arms wrapped around him with a force that nearly shattered his newly mended ribs, and she held him so tightly it was as if she feared he would slip away again. "Aldwyn!" she gasped, her voice a mix of joy and horror. "You're alive! Oh, gods, we thought we'd lost you!"
Aldwyn, whose breath was taken away, could barely get the words out. " Holy shit...are you going to send me back to the afterlife?"
Lila's grip tightened for a brief moment before she realized her strength and pulled away, her cheeks flushing a deep red. "Forgive me," she murmured, "I didn't mean to... I just... I thought we had lost you."
He took a deep breath before asking, "Were you the person who saved me?"
She nodded slightly, "yes I found you in a horrible state.... I tried everything, really everything... But I couldn't save Master Sewell, Gustav or the others. But that you made it... That makes me incredibly happy." Her eyes became glassy and a few tears fell.
"I still don't know what exactly happened... I've taken the inhabitants out of the city as far as I can"
"When we made it to a temporary outpost, the city was shrouded in some kind of "dome" of darkness... After a few minutes, when it dissipated, the sounds of battle died out."
"When I made my way back to the city, destruction and chaos was everywhere... So many victims... But luckily I was able to save you..." Her voice was a mix of sorrow and relief, and her eyes searched his for an acknowledgment of the gravity of their situation.
"Thank you, Lila," he murmured, his voice still raw from the aftermath. "I owe you more than words can express."
Lila's eyes met his, a silent understanding passing between them. She took a deep breath and pulled herself together, a rare show of vulnerability from the fierce warrior.
"Your equipment..." she began, her voice heavy with the weight of her words. "It's... gone. The armor was shattered, your twin blades snapped in two, and the revolver..." she trailed off, unable to voice the loss of his most treasured weapon.
"Your bag," she said, her voice shaky. "It's the only thing that... remained intact. I don't know how, but it's as if it was shielded from whatever happened."
His eyes widened slightly, "That's very good... At least I don't have to start from nothing."
The maid returned with a set of clothes that were definitely not his. They were finely tailored garments, made of velvet and silk, and they smelled faintly of sandalwood and musk. The color was a deep shade of burgundy that suited the somber mood of the manor. She laid them out neatly on a chair beside the bed, her eyes cast downward in respect.
Aldwyn took the clothes and dressed himself with care, his movements slow and deliberate as he tried to ignore the pain that still lingered in his side. He felt a pang of regret for his lost weapons, but he knew that they were mere tools, and he could acquire new ones. It was his purpose that truly mattered.
Once dressed, Lila and the maid helped him up, their combined strength surprisingly gentle as they led him towards the mirror on the opposite side of the room. His legs felt like lead, and he leaned heavily on them for support.
As he approached the looking glass, the light from the flickering candles cast a soft, warm glow over his reflection. He looked like a man who had stumbled out of a grave—his black hair had grown out, now a wild mane framing his face, and a full beard obscured the sharp angles of his jawline. His silver eyes, once so vibrant, were now dull and lifeless, mirroring the emptiness he felt inside. His skin was as pale as freshly fallen snow, a stark contrast to the darkness of his hair and beard.
He turned to lila, "How... How long was I asleep?"
Wöchentlicher Energiestatus
-- Power-
Rangliste 
-- Power-
Stein