Marcus's leaned heavily on the unknown man, and struggled with each step. Every breath was tortured and laboured, his shattered ribcage lying heavily on his lungs. He coughed and moaned in pain as his lungs hammered against his ribs.
"Not long now my son, not long…" The mans voice trailed off as he approached a walled compound, the reinforced oaken doors were open, and two guardsmen stood at attention on the outside.
He called out loudly to them; "Get the healer, quickly now!" One of them ran off to a door in the compound while the other moved to Marcus's side and helped with the weight.
They managed to limp into the compound much more quickly now with the aid of the guard, and were greeted by and elderly man. His hair was grey and wispy, he looked incredibly frail, but a large bag clutched in his hand belied his strength. He spoke quickly and softly, taking control of the situation. Marcus was held up while the healer gave him a thorough, but short examination. His brow was knotted in concentration as his hands felt the broken ribcage, and examined the skull for fractures.
He clucked his teeth and whistled under his breath.
"Bring him to the infirmary." The short and clipped command was followed instantly; the guard and the unknown saviour took the weight once again holding Marcus up and following the healers long striding footsteps.
The rhythmic sound of footsteps was a monotonous tone. Marcus's head dropped as he gave into sleep, the void beckoned him.
A vision of a golden hall enthralled him. Sunlight flashed off of the roof, and the rays of warmth washed over him. He breathed in and found that this was like drinking a cool cup of water, his lungs cried out in joy as he felt his ribcage whole once again, he felt no pain from the battering he took, and his body was whole once again.
The doors of the hall opened for him, and he walked forward to them, like a siren, the huge hall called to him, and he supplicated, picking up a quick stride. He was dressed in no ordinary rags, a fine tunic and trousers of blue covered him, and strong leather boots covered what was once bare feet.
He wriggled his toes and smiled.
The open doors had a huge relief carved on them. A dragon with a rider in armour was done in exquisite detail, a testament to huge skill, and a massive imagination. He shook his head and grinned, as if a mighty dragon would allow a rider.
You would not believe what I would allow…
Marcus looked up in horror as a dragon reared above him. Its golden facets glinted in the sun, and its glorious stature was truly awe-inspiring.
So you are one of the Chosen, yes? It does not surprise me; they come in all shapes and sizes. Marcus did not see the dragon smile or speak, but the image of a grinning face occupied his mind.
Yes, I thought-speak, 'tis much easier than abusing vocal chords, no? The image of a laughing dragon appeared again and Marcus actually smiled.
"So you mean me no harm then, noble one?" There was still a hint of hysteria in his voice.
No harm will come to you in this realm little one. You are protected. Protected by us, and this time the dragon waved a clawed arm and Marcus saw golden and silver dragons flit across the landscape, frolicking in the huge atmosphere, and by our Lord and Master. You shall go inside now, little one, for he awaits you. The dragon thought smiled and took off into the air, it's massive wings reared upwards as it took off.
Marcus gaped in awe as the huge creature dived through the air and disappeared from view. He looked out into the air again and took a deep breath, and walked into the hall.