The cold and late autumn temperatures slammed against the man whose sole purpose in traversing the intertwining structures of the city. Lay in his hands…
His footsteps were not less than measured as the distance between him and help grew smaller…
He took a shortcut, making his own way down the building.
To the side, there'd been multiple bird spikes perched upon several balconies. Though, instead of birds… had helped in discouraging the monstrous pests that would occasionally dive into the outer, or sometimes innermost parts of the human compound.
These were often the bloom of the crop, as the older monstrosities knew better.
For a brief moment Norman looked down, before redirecting his attention to the objective, now a block away, as he couldn't care less about the spikes.
He'd land on them, and they'd pierce through his boots, as such, through his feet… but not a wince, only determination.
His campaign hadn't halted, not for a second… as he'd forcefully jump, tearing away at the barbs now colored red, moments before he'd hop on down and onto the pavement.
A trail of blood followed.
He scurried into the back alley, where, there, was a metal door that said Neighmor's Clinic.
He'd knock on it profusely.
"Gran! I know you're in there!"
'Please!' He pleaded in his mind.
The lack of a response was deafening..
"Please! it's urgent!"
He knocks on the door once more, this time with more force.
"Open up! Please!"
His desperation turned into frustration… and a crimson mist soon began to manifest.
When, a stray of a fist nearly hit the door. Thankfully he timely caught his temper… Clenching it tight, his fingers dug far into his palm, bleeding, along with his nose, and feet, which had been left derelict. Creating a puddle of blood in its wake. He'd fall on his knees…
The silence was palpable.
When a husky and tired old woman's voice answered with a notable annoyance.
"Scram! We don't accommodate the likes of you mannerless kids! Especially not during midnight?!"
Norman lifted his head. Forcing a stand.
'She's there!'
"Gran! It's me Norman! Please, it's…" He looks to his pale and feverish spouse who held on by a thread "It's Diana! She's sick! I don't have what it takes to save her! Please… you're the only one I can turn to!"
A slim opening on the door slides open, to reveal a set of pressing eyes. Looking at the faint elf ,the old woman would open the door, and gesture them inside.
"Tsk-"
"Get in… now!"
A sigh of relief.
"One hell of a ruckus you made." The old woman remarked.
"Here" She flickered the light open, "Lay her down" setting a bed that had little intention of being used. Though it was there, and such…
She carefully diagnosed the unconscious lady's condition.
"Mana Overload?" Walking over to the shelves, she'd shuffle through them,"here, this should help…" she grabs a green pill bottle and splits a tablet into quarters, taking one of them and diluting it in a glass of water.
She made the elven woman drink the concoction, then, pulling a stool from under the table next to the bed, she'd sit down, before turning to the man who stood on the other side.
"Sit down"
Norman would find a bed close to his wife's, and sitting by her side, there linger a somber feeling.
"Will she be alright?" He had this expression and tone, one of a dead man.
"yeah, you've been overreacting…" The woman, taking a breath "what's quite interesting here is ,this, you see this?" She brushes a part of Diana's hair to the side, while Norman listens intently
"This spot in particular has a high concentration of magic to it. Now, i've seen this before, this means two things, first the mana overload wasn't Natural, otherwise magic would've been more all throughout your lovely's brain… in this case she was shot." Revealing the exposed skin of Diana's scalp she'd say "Lastly, they could've added more magic to turn this young lady into a vegetable, but they didn't, all because… that, would've been murder, instead-"
Norman continues her words in a fit of realization
"Instead they put just enough to trigger mana overload, a-and make her- make her…"
"Yes, so that she'd kill herself, and the incident… well, it'll be deemed an accident, had this girl used magic i wouldn't have seen this spot here." She lets Diana's hair fall back into place, adding.
"Well… rest assured she'll be fine… though, she might fall into a slumber, a sort of coma for a week or two."
His head hung low, eyes downcast.
"I'm indebted to you."
"No problem whatsoever, after all, you will pay for my services, yes?" The woman said knowingly
"Of course..." He stood. Blood ran down his palm, his nose and boots now but a slow flow.
"Oh and," awkwardly laughing, Norman would add "Keep her safe for the time being.. I'll get you all the money for it…mind if I go?"
Approaching the door, it seemed as though all light left his eyes.
"Well, yeah I actually would mind if you went." Granny said.
Turning into slight confusion, Norman stopped…
The old lady, walking up to the cabinet she'd grab a roll of bandages, a bottle of medicine, and tissue. "Who's gonna clean this bloody clinic at midnight?... Right now there's only one person awake enough to do that, and it sure as hell ain't me. "
"If you're energetic enough to be running around in a bloody pulp, I suggest you spend the rest of your night cleaning this room."
She has him sit down once more.
It gave him a moment to think… a precious second, as… had he left through that door he might've lost all reason…
She'd stuff his nose with tissue, wrap his hands in medicine, and the moment the old woman got to his boots, she had him take them off, only to see several holes, through and through.
Propping up one leg at a time and thoroughly soaking the bandages in medicine, she'd stuff them in the wounds. Once she finished on one side, wrapping it tightly, she'd continue onto the other.
"Another thing" The woman remarked, whilst securing the last bit of cloth, "a few years to a human could mean everything, but for elves, it might only be, like how a month or two is to us."
Leaving his foot to rest she'd stand, walking toward the kitchen, hoping to boil water.
"To mean…?" He asks.
"To mean, their minds process things differently, as in to say if a human were in this very situation, they might forget… about a year's worth of information."
He knew where this was headed… by now the excruciating pain in his feet…
Was nothing compared to what brewed inside his heart.
"…" The old woman was careful to observe "Remember that one time your friend Walter got shot down with the same magic on a mission? The opposing faction took over one of the strongholds at the time, and used our newly modified guns."
The old somber woman looked on "you managed to shield his head with your shoulder that day, no?."
It was like talking to a statue, until… Those words came to fruition.
"Is what I recall, Arthur telling me…"
The air was tense…his eyes were sharp, as though a dragon were disturbed from its slumber.
She continued "Nevertheless, you couldn't move your shoulder for a week, and that young lad Walter forgot about how he confessed to the girl he liked months prior."
She says as she grabs the powdered milk from a cabinet up above the countertop.
"What's your point?" His eyes downcast once more.
"How far along are you two?" The old woman questioned
"9, this year's the tenth" Even if it was just for the briefest moment… recollection of all his time together with Diana, it was endearing.
"What'll you do if she doesn't remember?" The lady put this quite bluntly
"Ha… What's nine years… I have a lifetime's worth of memory to make up for it, surely that's enough for two people…" He grimaced at his own words
Casually she'd add "Say? Have you two shared a bed?"
Monotone, he retorts.
"Isn't that a little out of the blue, gran?"
"Not really, if you think about it… " A peculiar kettle sounds. The old woman would take two mugs from the drying rack, and measure out a scoop of powdered milk, putting some in each.
"A word of advice… don't sully your image of time. and 9 years…well, could mean a lot to anybody." Walking over, she'd give him one of the steaming mugs "Careful, it's quite hot…" She then headed for the stairs "still, to think you'd marry my assistant…" She began to ascend the stairs one step after another.
"Don't forget to dust the ceilings. Starting tomorrow, I'll work you like a dog till you pay off this debt. Brace yourself."
Soon, a door would close. Lights went out.
His eyes were completely empty…