He felt himself floating with no sense of space or time yet there was all around him a calm, peaceful warmth that embraced him as tenderly as a mother would her newborn child. He had a brief sensation of the warmth settling his tired body on an equally soft and embracing surface before it began to pull away. He felt fear unsettle his mind at its loss and he heard himself cry out desperately as he blindly reached for it. The warmth immediately enveloped his hand, entwining with his searching fingers and banishing the surging panic. It weaved through his damp hair and smoothed over his troubled brow.

"Shhh….all is well," the warmth whispered, surrounding him with a soothing calmness and he followed it down into oblivion.

He was running. Desperately. He was buffeted by a driving wind that carried within it stinging pings that stuck all over his naked body while all around light flashed followed by a indescribable noise so loud he felt it would throw him to the ground. He could see the indistinct domes of the City in the distance through the sheets of cold rain but, no matter how hard he run, the storm held him fast in its crushing, stinging embrace. The City remained a fixed, mocking beacon in the distance and he desperately forced his exhausted body to run faster. Suddenly, he felt a fierce pain engulf his right ankle and he cried out in fear as the joint buckled, the slick ground slipping from beneath his bare feet. Squeezing his eyes shut, he instinctively threw up his arms to shield his head while tightening his body in anticipation of the pain that he knew would come as he careened uncontrollably toward the rain soaked ground. He was met not with the cold, wet hardness of the earth but found himself cradled instead in a soft, warm womb, its hold moving like liquid satin over his chapped and cold skin. It ran into every crevice of his body, running through his dark hair, into his ears, his navel and in between his legs and toes. He jerked in surprise, crying out in pain as the bones in his torn ankle ground together.

"My Elijah…..shhhh. Your ankle is badly broken and will need to be set."

He relaxed instantly as he recognized the voice as the peaceful warmth that had held his hand earlier. It slipped smooth, sure tendrils tenderly under his shoulders and knees and he felt himself lifted effortlessly out of the cradling womb. Cool air prickled his damp skin and he moved instinctively towards the gentle warmth and its comfort. A familiar, even rocking and then he was set on a briefly remembered soft, embracing surface. The tendrils slipped smoothly up between his shoulder blades, briefly cradling his nape to finally slip into his damp hair. He felt his head settled tenderly on an equally soft surface, the tendrils drawing the stands of his hair between them as they slowly withdrew. He drifted in semi-unconsciousness as they were replaced with a cool, soft cloth that carefully brushed over his damp hair, whisking away the moisture that lingered there. It moved slowly down to his face, neck, chest and arms and continued on until he felt his whole body cool and dry. The pain of his broken ankle forgotten under the intimate ministrations.

The respite lasted only a moment, however, as his ankle spiked again with agony as the joint was gently grasped and held. Fire shot through his body as the warmth wrapped its firm tendrils around it and began to move and manipulate the misaligned bones. He heard screaming. Someone desperately pleading to please stop. A loud pop and the agonized yells receded into faint sobbing.

"Forgive me, my Elijah. Not setting the bones would have done you greater harm." For the first time the warmth sounded out of sync and slurred. What had happened?

Something cool and wet was carefully smoothed over the red, irritated skin, penetrating deep into the strained tendons and muscle and he heard himself sign in desperate relief as the pain began to recede. He felt something soft and cool being wound around the joint, swaddling it in place firmly. The tendrils ran in loving stokes over the bandaged ankle before laying it down with infinite care and covering his naked body with a soft, warm blanket.

Who was this gentle warmth that knew his name and held and cared for him as if he was the most precious thing in the universe? This presence that surrounded him with such a familiar devotion, a touch with such well remembered gentle strength and power? His exhausted mind grasped at a beloved name but, no, they had parted never to see one another again. He did not have the energy to hope. No regrets.

"Who are you?" he whispered, reaching out his right hand blindly toward the sound of the warmth's voice with the last of his strength. It was again caught and held.

"My Elijah, you must rest. We will talk when you are well."