Lois met Clark at the end of the hall leading to Jimmy's room. "They said he hasn't woken up yet, but the surgery went well enough," she said softly. "He lost a lot of blood, as you already know, and his head injury…"
"It could have caused serious problems?" Clark finished gently.
Lois nodded, but when she looked up at her husband, her eyes were slightly bright with determination. "But that's only worse case scenario. For all we know, he's perfectly fine. He just needs to wake up." She smiled lightly then nodded her head at him. "How did everything go with you?"
"Lumber truck crashed on the freeway. Major car pile up. Two casualties, and a few serious injuries, but we were able to stop the fire before it spread out of control," he answered briefly while escorting her to Jimmy's room. They stopped at the door and looked in through the slim door window. Both could see the young man lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to a respirator to regulate his breathing. What surprised them most was to see his head moving slowly, his partially opened eyes taking in the room around him.
"He's awake!" Lois exclaimed happily.
Clark pushed the door open and stepped inside, greeting his friend warmly. "Hey, Jimmy!" Lois moved to Jimmy's left while Clark stood at the right, taking in the sight of the thick bandage around the photographer's head and a large purple bruise on his chin. "How are you feeling buddy?"
His head moved slowly, and his eyes had a glazed, distant look when he gazed at both reporters. At first his jaw worked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes roamed around, taking in the respirator, the tubes going into his arms, the individuals walking past the partially open door. All the while, he said nothing, just stared and digested, though the unfocused look in his eyes made him appear young and lost, perhaps even a little frightened.
Clark noticed almost immediately. There was something about the way he looked at Clark that made the journalist feel uncomfortable. It was there when he first looked at the mild-mannered superhero; the uncertainty in his eyes, kind of like he didn't recognize where he was or who was with him. Carefully, Jimmy turned his head to look at Lois and blink once or twice.
"Welcome back, Jimmy," she said warmly.
A frown crossed his face. "Whe-where am…" he asked, and winced slightly at his rough voice.
"Metropolis General. Do you remember what happened?" Clark replied.
Jimmy seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open. "I'm tired… why?"
"The painkillers. They were necessary after the surgery."
The photographer's eyes widened, and he silently mouthed "surgery" before he began to get up. "No," he denied hoarsely and began pulling at the IV in his arm.
"No, Jimmy, lay back down," Clark insisted, pressing his hands against the boy's shoulders while Lois tried to still his hands. As they were settling him down, the nurse entered to take vitals, and immediately took over the situation. Pulling a needle from a side cabinet, she injected a clear liquid into the IV back. Jimmy's struggles eventually ceased, and he slowly drifted back to sleep.
"What happened?" Nurse Thatcher asked while checking him over.
"He was awake and aware, and then we mentioned the surgery and he became agitated," Lois answered.
The nurse nodded. "That's understandable. Sometimes the narcotics cause adverse side affects like distortion of thoughts and images. He'll be fine when the drugs work out of his system." She finished with the vitals and made her way out, mentioning she'd have the doctor check on him shortly. Lois and Clark shared a look as they, too, stepped from the room and began making their way out of the hospital.
"Did that seem odd to you?" Lois spoke up when they reached the car.
"What?"
"They way he looked around, and looked at us. He seemed… I don't know… more lost than anything."
Clark sighed. "Yeah, he did seem a bit out there. But, he's on a lot of meds right now, Lois, and they're probably just causing side affects like the nurse mentioned."
Lois started the Jeep and pulled out into traffic. "I suppose. Well, what do you want to do next?"
"Do you have that information on the urn from the receptionist?"
"Research it is."
Upon exiting the room, he met a stone hallway with high arches, tapestries hanging in yards of skilled weavings, and streams of colored sunlight flowing through stained glass windows. Jimmy immediately likened the place to an English castle, and his breath left him in awe of the magnitude of the building. Servants in various colored dresses carried baskets of food, clothing, and other trinkets; they brushed by him, some not noticing him, others giving him highly suggestive smiles and winks. Most of the people who occupied the passageway seemed headed in a certain direction, toward a large set of doors that were held open by heavy blocks of wood. Instinct suggested him to follow the crowd, and without hesitation he stepped through the doors.
What breath he had left him in a rush as he took in the scene before him. The room was massive, easily comparable to the length of a football field, and the ceiling stretched on toward the sky. Fires roared happily against the far walls, placed perhaps twenty feet from each other, and in the very center of the room were a circle of long tables covered from end to end in appealing foods that beckoned him with their succulent scents. From some unknown place, the high notes of a flute accompanied by the lively tune of a fiddle danced into his ears over the continuous and blended chatter of the guests.
Moving forward into the crowd, he took in everyone's apparel. Leathers, tight fitting bodices, yards of silk, brilliant colors, flashy jewelry, swords, daggers, and whips met his amazed eyes. Some looked as properly dressed as nobles, while others wore clothing as simple as that of a farmer. The clash of class and society was dazzling, and Jimmy found himself listening with fascination to snippets of conversation as he passed through the masses.
"…a crazy notion, indeed! Whoever heard of a contraption that could fly? Impossible, I say!"
"…the Empress is said to be making new laws for commoners to hold official positions in the council…"
"… I hear he's quite the adventurer. Too bad he's taken…"
"Can I offer you a drink, my lord?"
Jimmy turned to the sweet voice to find a young girl of 17 or so, with two braids of strawberry blonde hair falling down the sides of her pale pink dress that so generously showed off her... curves. A blush started to creep into his cheeks as he attempted to keep his eyes focused on her blue eyes while she pulled a goblet from the small wooden platter she carried over her left shoulder.
"Uh… thanks," Jimmy stuttered as he took the cup from her, smiling when she winked and strutted away. The liquid was clear in the copper goblet, and had no scent. With a shrug, Jimmy took a sip and nearly choked himself when a hand slap to his back almost threw him into his cup.
"Ha ha ha, the Savior has finally arrived!" a loud voice bellowed. Jimmy turned, still coughing his lungs back into place, and didn't see anyone. 'Okay…' "We were beginning to wonder if that party last night was too much for you!" The photographer's eyes traveled down, to where a little man, no taller than 4 feet, with bright red hair and a long red beard smiled up at him. Chain mail covered his broad body that looked strong and pudgy at the same time, and the cloth beneath the armor look somewhat formal, though it seemed to have food stains all over it. Heavy black boots on stubby feet and a large axe tucked around his expanded waist finished the ensemble.
"Uh, yeah, it was a great time-last night," Jimmy played along. "But I think I had too much to drink, because I don't remember any of it!"
The short Scottish looking man frowned at him. "Are you admitting you can't hold your ale?"
"Yes."
The man scoffed. "Some hero." But he grabbed Jimmy's gloved hand and began pulling him toward the food. "Come on, I'll give you the highlights."
"Can we get some food first?" Jimmy inquired, though his empty stomach was soon forgotten as three beautiful and busty women pointed at him and giggled, smiling all the while and showing off their wares. It took a few moments for the love stuck photographer to realize the short guy was talking to him, and he only picked up the end of the sentence.
"…rumors they'll attack within the next week."
"What?"
But the little man's reply was cut off by a blare of trumpets. Immediately the room quieted, and all eyes turned toward the large wooden doors, and up to the balcony that extended over the crowds. Dressed in an elegant gown of gold with a diamond crown and a gold scepter in hand stood a woman no older than 18. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun and her pale skin light up against the morning sun. Power and grace radiated from her in waves.
She raised her hands and opened her mouth to speak when a terrible crash caused a wave of panic among the masses. All heads turned as one to gaze with trepidation at the group of men who slowly entered the room through the now smashed doors leading out to the balcony; upon their red-eyed, winged black horses they trotted slowly, almost lazily, into the grand hall. They totaled seven, the first three being black skinned with white hair, their dark colors nearly blending them into their horses. A more human taste touched the other three, but they appeared no less threatening with swords and knives glinting from their belts and a case of arrows slung behind each of their backs.
In the middle, a tall and well built man sat comfortably on his steed. Hair of midnight color flowed down his back in silken waves, blue eyes burned brightly into everyone that dared to look upon them, and both these features were made so much more noticeable by his powder white skin. If not for the rise and fall of his armored chest, one might look upon him as a recently deceased victim. White teeth suddenly appeared behind faded lips when a smile graced the crowd.
"Good morning, fellow warriors and maidens a like," he greeted grandly in a voice rich of sarcastic politeness. "A lovely party, indeed, Your Highness. You've outdone yourself, truly." He laughed slightly.
"You know you are unwelcome here, Ashavon. Your pathetic assassins and drows cannot outdo my knights. You are outnumbered here." The young Empress' voice rang out solid and deep; no room for argument was permitted, and no space for doubt could be found. "If you have any wish to continue living, I suggest you leave immediately."
Ashavon laughed in reply. "Now, now, my dear, there's no need to call out your cavalry. I came here merely with an offer."
"No."
"You haven't even heard the proposal."
"And I have no interest to."
With a cluck of his tongue, he reprimanded her. "You women are so quick to have your independence. Tell me, empress, what can you truly do for your people without a male figure to lead?"
Even from afar, the blaze of anger was seen in her eyes. "You question my authority in front of the people I have set free from the slavery of tradition? You dare to imply that I haven't the power to rule my land and fend off any foe?"
"Of course not," the shady male lied back smoothly. "I just humbly ask to take your hand and guide you into true leadership; mold you into the most powerful empress ever seen by Izmer, or any other kingdom." His smiled became wolfish. "For the good of your people, of course."
"Of course," she snapped bitterly, "for the good of the people. And what good have you done for your people, my Lordship? Force them into work most aren't fit enough to do? Pillage your lands to make heavy your purse? Torture and kill those most loyal to you for a slip up? I have heard the stories, and will not allow such tyranny in my kingdom." Her voice grew in volume and strength as she continued. "You are a disgrace, Ashavon, nothing more than a vengeful little boy pretending to be a man. And a boy is not fit to rule a stable, let alone a kingdom. You bring shame upon yourself, and you will not bring such filth to my empire or my people!"
"So much for trying to talk sense into a teenaged whore," the enraged Lord snarled back. "And I could not bring as much as disgrace to your people as you will, the day you willingly give your lands over to me! I will see you on your knees, Highness, and on that day, Izmer will fall just as quickly! Mark my words!" From his belt he pulled a long knife with a blade weaved like ocean waves, and he threw it into a nearby shield that bestowed the empress' dragon symbol engraved in the wood. With that, the seven men fled from the room, their beasts flying high over the tallest buildings to disappear into the blazing sun.
There was a pause, a moment of recollection and concerned thoughts, and then a loud voice broke the silence in an encouraging cheer. "Long live the Empress, protector of us all, to the very death!"
The crowd went wild with patriotism, clearly helping the young ruler to relax after the confrontation. When the cries calmed, she extended her thanks to those loyal to her, and promised to take care of everyone in her kingdom with every power she could spare. She then wished for the party to continue and the guests to take their fill of the festivities. Another cheer rose as she departed.
Jimmy watched her leave, shifted his gaze to the sky now empty of the threatening warriors then looked down to his drink. 'Either I'm losing my mind… or this is some really strong stuff.' He looked down at the little man who seemed to glow with dislike. The idea of questioning aloud his own sanity crossed Jimmy's mind, but another voice cut him off.
"I'm sorry to call on you," a young servant boy, no older than twelve, and bright in eyes and cheeks said to him, "but her Ladyship wishes to see you. Now."
Jimmy stared at the boy for a moment, unsure of what to say. The shorter man must have seen the hesitation in his face, so he slapped him on the back again, startling Jimmy for a second time with the force of the blow.
"Well, get going!" he bellowed. "Don't keep her highness waiting, and same with me. Come back down and give me all the details." An odd, perhaps sardonic smile lit up his red cheeks. "I've been itchin' for a good battle, and it looks one'll be coming straight this way."
"Battle?" Jimmy questioned before turning to the boy. "Is that what she wants to see me about?"
By a shake of his head, the young servant replied in the negative. "I don't know, my Lord, but your presence is expected immediately." With that, the boy turned and headed toward a side door not so crowded by the guests, and Jimmy found himself with no choice but to follow.
"It could have caused serious problems?" Clark finished gently.
Lois nodded, but when she looked up at her husband, her eyes were slightly bright with determination. "But that's only worse case scenario. For all we know, he's perfectly fine. He just needs to wake up." She smiled lightly then nodded her head at him. "How did everything go with you?"
"Lumber truck crashed on the freeway. Major car pile up. Two casualties, and a few serious injuries, but we were able to stop the fire before it spread out of control," he answered briefly while escorting her to Jimmy's room. They stopped at the door and looked in through the slim door window. Both could see the young man lying on the bed, wrapped in bandages and hooked up to a respirator to regulate his breathing. What surprised them most was to see his head moving slowly, his partially opened eyes taking in the room around him.
"He's awake!" Lois exclaimed happily.
Clark pushed the door open and stepped inside, greeting his friend warmly. "Hey, Jimmy!" Lois moved to Jimmy's left while Clark stood at the right, taking in the sight of the thick bandage around the photographer's head and a large purple bruise on his chin. "How are you feeling buddy?"
His head moved slowly, and his eyes had a glazed, distant look when he gazed at both reporters. At first his jaw worked like he wanted to say something, but nothing came out. Instead, his eyes roamed around, taking in the respirator, the tubes going into his arms, the individuals walking past the partially open door. All the while, he said nothing, just stared and digested, though the unfocused look in his eyes made him appear young and lost, perhaps even a little frightened.
Clark noticed almost immediately. There was something about the way he looked at Clark that made the journalist feel uncomfortable. It was there when he first looked at the mild-mannered superhero; the uncertainty in his eyes, kind of like he didn't recognize where he was or who was with him. Carefully, Jimmy turned his head to look at Lois and blink once or twice.
"Welcome back, Jimmy," she said warmly.
A frown crossed his face. "Whe-where am…" he asked, and winced slightly at his rough voice.
"Metropolis General. Do you remember what happened?" Clark replied.
Jimmy seemed to have trouble keeping his eyes open. "I'm tired… why?"
"The painkillers. They were necessary after the surgery."
The photographer's eyes widened, and he silently mouthed "surgery" before he began to get up. "No," he denied hoarsely and began pulling at the IV in his arm.
"No, Jimmy, lay back down," Clark insisted, pressing his hands against the boy's shoulders while Lois tried to still his hands. As they were settling him down, the nurse entered to take vitals, and immediately took over the situation. Pulling a needle from a side cabinet, she injected a clear liquid into the IV back. Jimmy's struggles eventually ceased, and he slowly drifted back to sleep.
"What happened?" Nurse Thatcher asked while checking him over.
"He was awake and aware, and then we mentioned the surgery and he became agitated," Lois answered.
The nurse nodded. "That's understandable. Sometimes the narcotics cause adverse side affects like distortion of thoughts and images. He'll be fine when the drugs work out of his system." She finished with the vitals and made her way out, mentioning she'd have the doctor check on him shortly. Lois and Clark shared a look as they, too, stepped from the room and began making their way out of the hospital.
"Did that seem odd to you?" Lois spoke up when they reached the car.
"What?"
"They way he looked around, and looked at us. He seemed… I don't know… more lost than anything."
Clark sighed. "Yeah, he did seem a bit out there. But, he's on a lot of meds right now, Lois, and they're probably just causing side affects like the nurse mentioned."
Lois started the Jeep and pulled out into traffic. "I suppose. Well, what do you want to do next?"
"Do you have that information on the urn from the receptionist?"
"Research it is."
Upon exiting the room, he met a stone hallway with high arches, tapestries hanging in yards of skilled weavings, and streams of colored sunlight flowing through stained glass windows. Jimmy immediately likened the place to an English castle, and his breath left him in awe of the magnitude of the building. Servants in various colored dresses carried baskets of food, clothing, and other trinkets; they brushed by him, some not noticing him, others giving him highly suggestive smiles and winks. Most of the people who occupied the passageway seemed headed in a certain direction, toward a large set of doors that were held open by heavy blocks of wood. Instinct suggested him to follow the crowd, and without hesitation he stepped through the doors.
What breath he had left him in a rush as he took in the scene before him. The room was massive, easily comparable to the length of a football field, and the ceiling stretched on toward the sky. Fires roared happily against the far walls, placed perhaps twenty feet from each other, and in the very center of the room were a circle of long tables covered from end to end in appealing foods that beckoned him with their succulent scents. From some unknown place, the high notes of a flute accompanied by the lively tune of a fiddle danced into his ears over the continuous and blended chatter of the guests.
Moving forward into the crowd, he took in everyone's apparel. Leathers, tight fitting bodices, yards of silk, brilliant colors, flashy jewelry, swords, daggers, and whips met his amazed eyes. Some looked as properly dressed as nobles, while others wore clothing as simple as that of a farmer. The clash of class and society was dazzling, and Jimmy found himself listening with fascination to snippets of conversation as he passed through the masses.
"…a crazy notion, indeed! Whoever heard of a contraption that could fly? Impossible, I say!"
"…the Empress is said to be making new laws for commoners to hold official positions in the council…"
"… I hear he's quite the adventurer. Too bad he's taken…"
"Can I offer you a drink, my lord?"
Jimmy turned to the sweet voice to find a young girl of 17 or so, with two braids of strawberry blonde hair falling down the sides of her pale pink dress that so generously showed off her... curves. A blush started to creep into his cheeks as he attempted to keep his eyes focused on her blue eyes while she pulled a goblet from the small wooden platter she carried over her left shoulder.
"Uh… thanks," Jimmy stuttered as he took the cup from her, smiling when she winked and strutted away. The liquid was clear in the copper goblet, and had no scent. With a shrug, Jimmy took a sip and nearly choked himself when a hand slap to his back almost threw him into his cup.
"Ha ha ha, the Savior has finally arrived!" a loud voice bellowed. Jimmy turned, still coughing his lungs back into place, and didn't see anyone. 'Okay…' "We were beginning to wonder if that party last night was too much for you!" The photographer's eyes traveled down, to where a little man, no taller than 4 feet, with bright red hair and a long red beard smiled up at him. Chain mail covered his broad body that looked strong and pudgy at the same time, and the cloth beneath the armor look somewhat formal, though it seemed to have food stains all over it. Heavy black boots on stubby feet and a large axe tucked around his expanded waist finished the ensemble.
"Uh, yeah, it was a great time-last night," Jimmy played along. "But I think I had too much to drink, because I don't remember any of it!"
The short Scottish looking man frowned at him. "Are you admitting you can't hold your ale?"
"Yes."
The man scoffed. "Some hero." But he grabbed Jimmy's gloved hand and began pulling him toward the food. "Come on, I'll give you the highlights."
"Can we get some food first?" Jimmy inquired, though his empty stomach was soon forgotten as three beautiful and busty women pointed at him and giggled, smiling all the while and showing off their wares. It took a few moments for the love stuck photographer to realize the short guy was talking to him, and he only picked up the end of the sentence.
"…rumors they'll attack within the next week."
"What?"
But the little man's reply was cut off by a blare of trumpets. Immediately the room quieted, and all eyes turned toward the large wooden doors, and up to the balcony that extended over the crowds. Dressed in an elegant gown of gold with a diamond crown and a gold scepter in hand stood a woman no older than 18. Her brown hair was tied back in a bun and her pale skin light up against the morning sun. Power and grace radiated from her in waves.
She raised her hands and opened her mouth to speak when a terrible crash caused a wave of panic among the masses. All heads turned as one to gaze with trepidation at the group of men who slowly entered the room through the now smashed doors leading out to the balcony; upon their red-eyed, winged black horses they trotted slowly, almost lazily, into the grand hall. They totaled seven, the first three being black skinned with white hair, their dark colors nearly blending them into their horses. A more human taste touched the other three, but they appeared no less threatening with swords and knives glinting from their belts and a case of arrows slung behind each of their backs.
In the middle, a tall and well built man sat comfortably on his steed. Hair of midnight color flowed down his back in silken waves, blue eyes burned brightly into everyone that dared to look upon them, and both these features were made so much more noticeable by his powder white skin. If not for the rise and fall of his armored chest, one might look upon him as a recently deceased victim. White teeth suddenly appeared behind faded lips when a smile graced the crowd.
"Good morning, fellow warriors and maidens a like," he greeted grandly in a voice rich of sarcastic politeness. "A lovely party, indeed, Your Highness. You've outdone yourself, truly." He laughed slightly.
"You know you are unwelcome here, Ashavon. Your pathetic assassins and drows cannot outdo my knights. You are outnumbered here." The young Empress' voice rang out solid and deep; no room for argument was permitted, and no space for doubt could be found. "If you have any wish to continue living, I suggest you leave immediately."
Ashavon laughed in reply. "Now, now, my dear, there's no need to call out your cavalry. I came here merely with an offer."
"No."
"You haven't even heard the proposal."
"And I have no interest to."
With a cluck of his tongue, he reprimanded her. "You women are so quick to have your independence. Tell me, empress, what can you truly do for your people without a male figure to lead?"
Even from afar, the blaze of anger was seen in her eyes. "You question my authority in front of the people I have set free from the slavery of tradition? You dare to imply that I haven't the power to rule my land and fend off any foe?"
"Of course not," the shady male lied back smoothly. "I just humbly ask to take your hand and guide you into true leadership; mold you into the most powerful empress ever seen by Izmer, or any other kingdom." His smiled became wolfish. "For the good of your people, of course."
"Of course," she snapped bitterly, "for the good of the people. And what good have you done for your people, my Lordship? Force them into work most aren't fit enough to do? Pillage your lands to make heavy your purse? Torture and kill those most loyal to you for a slip up? I have heard the stories, and will not allow such tyranny in my kingdom." Her voice grew in volume and strength as she continued. "You are a disgrace, Ashavon, nothing more than a vengeful little boy pretending to be a man. And a boy is not fit to rule a stable, let alone a kingdom. You bring shame upon yourself, and you will not bring such filth to my empire or my people!"
"So much for trying to talk sense into a teenaged whore," the enraged Lord snarled back. "And I could not bring as much as disgrace to your people as you will, the day you willingly give your lands over to me! I will see you on your knees, Highness, and on that day, Izmer will fall just as quickly! Mark my words!" From his belt he pulled a long knife with a blade weaved like ocean waves, and he threw it into a nearby shield that bestowed the empress' dragon symbol engraved in the wood. With that, the seven men fled from the room, their beasts flying high over the tallest buildings to disappear into the blazing sun.
There was a pause, a moment of recollection and concerned thoughts, and then a loud voice broke the silence in an encouraging cheer. "Long live the Empress, protector of us all, to the very death!"
The crowd went wild with patriotism, clearly helping the young ruler to relax after the confrontation. When the cries calmed, she extended her thanks to those loyal to her, and promised to take care of everyone in her kingdom with every power she could spare. She then wished for the party to continue and the guests to take their fill of the festivities. Another cheer rose as she departed.
Jimmy watched her leave, shifted his gaze to the sky now empty of the threatening warriors then looked down to his drink. 'Either I'm losing my mind… or this is some really strong stuff.' He looked down at the little man who seemed to glow with dislike. The idea of questioning aloud his own sanity crossed Jimmy's mind, but another voice cut him off.
"I'm sorry to call on you," a young servant boy, no older than twelve, and bright in eyes and cheeks said to him, "but her Ladyship wishes to see you. Now."
Jimmy stared at the boy for a moment, unsure of what to say. The shorter man must have seen the hesitation in his face, so he slapped him on the back again, startling Jimmy for a second time with the force of the blow.
"Well, get going!" he bellowed. "Don't keep her highness waiting, and same with me. Come back down and give me all the details." An odd, perhaps sardonic smile lit up his red cheeks. "I've been itchin' for a good battle, and it looks one'll be coming straight this way."
"Battle?" Jimmy questioned before turning to the boy. "Is that what she wants to see me about?"
By a shake of his head, the young servant replied in the negative. "I don't know, my Lord, but your presence is expected immediately." With that, the boy turned and headed toward a side door not so crowded by the guests, and Jimmy found himself with no choice but to follow.