Waking

RPOV

She was unconscious for eight whole days. The magic she had had to constantly be drained from her, because in the agitation that built up in her mind, she couldn't control it. We were going to lose her completely if we weren't careful.

The accident, it had transpired, had been caused by a very slightly weakness in the roof of the Arena. Regin, intending to bounce is force-strike off the back wall and hope to find a weakness in Sonea's shield, had damaged it further and a slab had fallen. Having never made a shield against physical objects, only magical, Sonea had been knocked from her feet, the slab smashing into her back. Regin had tried to throw it away from her, throwing everything he had at the stone. It stopped it from hitting her on the head, but he couldn't push it away from her. As Sonea had ducked instinctively, she'd laid her back vulnerable to the slab. Nothing could have been done. It was all over so fast. When she'd told Lady Vinara she couldn't feel her legs, my heart had stopped beating. Regin had been horrified. She'd screamed at Balkan to save her. He'd said sorry, over and over again, and cried when they told him she wasn't going to walk. For someone who'd gone out of his way to make life miserable for her when they were both new novices, for someone who'd never, ever liked her, he'd expressed enough guilt to wipe the slate clean. He'd been told, over and over again, that it wasn't his fault.

When they'd told Akkarin, when Balkan had sprinted clear across the Guild to get him, when he'd told him about the accident, Akkarin had turned deadly pale, clutched wildly at the back of a chair and then run to the Healer's Quarters, where he first demanded, then begged, to be allowed to see her. Vinara hadn't let him in until the next day. At that point, they knew, and so did he, that she wasn't going to walk again, that not even we, the Magicians who had defeated the Ichani, could Heal her. We'd asked him if, using dark magic, if he could Heal her using that. He'd shaken his head.

"Rothen, if I could heal her using my magic, I'd have done it by now. But to use Black Magic for good would damage what it is used for. Sonea would pay with her soul, and I doubt she'd thank me for it."

It had been eight very, very long days. They'd felt like lifetimes. Akkarin, after he'd seen her that one time, had left, holed himself up in his residence and refused point blank to come out, to talk to anyone, to see anyone. When the King asked to see him, he'd been told no, that the High Lord was ill. When he'd done that, the gossip mill had gone into overdrive. I neither knew nor cared what they were saying. Sonea was my priority now. The day she woke up, she had only two days left before her graduation.

SPOV

I remember precious little of the next eight days. I was placed under medication, kept sedated, kept away from my body. I remember occasionally hearing familiar voices: Rothen, Vinara, Dannyl and, once, Akkarin. I remember nothing of leaving the Arena, and I remember nothing of the attempt to Heal me.

But the day I woke up will be forever ingrained in my memory.

"My Lady!"

"Sonea? Are you alright? Can you hear me, sweetheart?"

"Yes…" I couldn't talk above a whisper. So thirsty…

"Are you in any pain?"

"No…not pain…but…my legs…"

"Sonea, you were very badly hurt. It's your back. It's broken. I'm sorry…but there was nothing we could do. We can't Heal you."

"What…do you…mean?"

"Sonea, I'm so sorry - but I'm afraid you'll never walk again."

Please Review??