A Scream in the Hallway
''I don't know what kind of monster would do something like this,'' Jon said, tears in his eyes. ''Numair, I don't know what to say. I'm so sorry.''
Numair had his back turned away from Jon, with his face in his hands. ''She... she can't be,'' he said, his voice muffled and barely audible. ''She can't be sick.''
''I'm praying,'' Jon continued, ''that she will get better and that things will be all right.''
Right now, though, Sarralyn was a very sick little girl. And there was evidence to prove that someone may have purposely caused it.
Jon's mother had survived, but the complications she suffered later on ended up killing her. And her death ended up killing his father. The fault ended up to be Roger, the cousin who so desperately wanted his throne.
Only Roger was dead, and this disease was different. This time the disease was unknown; in the six months that it hit, only the royal family and those who knew them were affected.
The mage exacting this made sure it stayed within the confines of the castle. Only the servants and those closest to Jon had been hit.
Thayet had survived it, thank the gods. The illness had made her weak, but the healers had said that she was going to make a full recovery. Jon had understood the feeling of being consumed with worry, and feeling helpless to do anything about it.
But Thayet was a woman, an adult, and a strong one at that. The case was not the same for little Sarralyn.
The fact of the matter was that the situation for Sarralyn was very grave right now, and the healers had said that the little girl who was very much a niece to him would most likely die from it. It was a fact that choked Jon up if he let himself think of it, so he remained busy.
There was not much hope for her situation, but Jon did the best he could to comfort his friend.
''We're going to catch the mage who did this,'' Jon said.
''But that won't do anything for Sarralyn now,'' Numair said, his voice quivering.
Just then Numair's back started to swell with the sobs that were racking his large form.
Jon stood there frozen, unsure of what to do. He wanted to comfort Numair, but he didn't know what to say.
He knew that if he stood there any longer tears would form in his own eyes, so he left. He was careful that the door would not make a bang behind him.
The tears poured from Numair, until he could cry no more, and he succumbed to sleep as exhaustion poured over him.
He would have been there, right outside the room, all of the time if he was not forced to leave.
A scream sounded in the hallway, jerking him awake.
He felt his throat clog and his body tense. Despite the fatigue, his eyes were suddenly wide open with adrenaline.
That scream was suddenly followed by sobs.
Numair realized that scream and those sobs were Daine's. He suddenly found himself short of breath.
He found himself running, running, running. His mind only thought about getting there as soon as possible, of relieving the fear that washed over him and consumed his soul like forest fire.
All he could register was the fact that she couldn't be dead. Not his little girl, not the sun that shone on his world, not the pillar that held him up. He had to make sure that she was still alive.
''No, no, no,'' he heard Daine saying. ''Let me in there. She's my baby. Let me in there! She can't be.''
The healer stood in front of her, shaking his head and refusing entry.
''Numair,'' Daine said, sobbing. ''Numair.''
''I'm sorry,'' the healer said.
Numair's life shattered with those words.
All right so this was kind of a sad take on it but it sort of came to me... This was kind of a broad prompt this month so I got a wide variety of choice. Here it is. I hoped you liked it and please review!
