(Sorry, if I overdid the whole patriotism stuff in the last chapter. It was
fun to write though.)
7 The Prince is ill, the nobles are mad, and Alanna saves the day.
"Bring me to the Prince", Alanna demanded of the elderly, sloppily dressed man, who had just about run into her. He looked like a drunkard of sorts, but also radiated an odd feeling of sympathy.
"I." He opened his mouth, probably to deny her the wish, but a hard look in her eyes shut him up.
"I have medical herbs and potions with me. He needs to get them. Immediately."
Without further objection he turned into another direction, his gestures silently telling her to follow him. They rushed through corridors and halls which, though normally crowded, were unnaturally silent and empty. The people's worry about the crown prince seemed to have stopped about all the normal activities. When the sickness had put everyone here through a however cruel or sad personal fate, daily routine had never failed to prevail. The general disaster though, the sickness of their future king, had shaken everyone badly.
"Do you know about his Highness's current state?" Alanna asked quietly, feeling like desecrating the silence if she spoke too loudly.
The man nodded. "It is bad. Seems like he's already hallucinating. The priests are already singing their hymns, I hear, and the noble folks are crowding in his chambers."
Bad. Very bad, Alanna thought. Most of those hallucinating this early didn't live through the day. Like that blond boy. Alanna gulped. She decided to ask another question.
"Do you know, if healer-woman Maude is at the Prince's chambers as well?"
"Maude, you say? If you mean the one from fief Trebond, then she isn't. The Queen had a relapse today, and the healer-woman saved her. Seems, she overly exhausted herself in the progress. Couldn't do much more than breathing afterwards, or so they say. But the other healers don't seem to have that much more strength left either."
But she lives, Alanna told herself. She lives.
Alanna could hear low chanting now, and knew they were nearing their destination. Next, a young girl of about sixteen crossed their way, loudly weeping while she ran. Alanna recognised her as the Prince's latest conquest. Amalia of Tollhorn, some or other. She recognized her because Thom had sent her one of the drawings the love-sick Prince had made of her some weeks ago. But that wasn't important now. Important was.
Alanna gasped. They had reached the doors to the royal bedroom, and - it was crowded. The air was thick with incense; monks chanted; nobles prayed, talked or watched silently; Duke Baird, the head of healers, was leaning at the wall, a hopeless expression on his face. But what really hit Alanna hard was the sight of a pale, black haired boy on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. He didn't do anything, just lying there, his eyes closed, while drops of sweat slowly rolled down his face, and his limbs trembled in occasional spasms. Alanna stared at him, until he suddenly opened his dried lips and screamed noiselessly in obvious fear.
Alanna turned to the elderly man, whose arm she just realized she had clawed into. Slowly, she released him. He smiled at her in an understanding way.
"How is the Prince supposed to heal, if he doesn't even get the chance to breathe properly in here? All this incense, the people.. I don't understand why Lord Baird lets this happen. Even in my first year as apprentice, I would've never done anything like this. Don't those stupid nobles know even the rudimentary rules of healing? This is unbelievable." Alanna rambled. She didn't even realise, how reproachful the look in her eyes must have been.
The man sighed sadly. "What do you expect me to do? Kick them out? These people here have the right to be by their Prince's side in times of emergency, haven't they? They think so, anyway."
"But by being at his side, as you say, they only worsen the situation. Look at Duke Baird, I beg you. He is exhausted, and doesn't know what to do anymore. Neither of the healers knows what to do anymore. They have all used their Gifts as much as they could. And now the crown-prince has fallen ill, and I am probably the only one with the Healing Gift who is not exhausted. I am only an apprentice, but with this illness, this is of no importance. You cannot fight with experience or knowledge here. What counts, is pure power, and that I still have. I was sent here because of the extend of my Gift. Though with the help of my brother I could probably near double it."
Breathing deeply, Alanna stopped. She didn't even know, why she was telling him this. After all, he was just some sloppy old man, maybe an elderly servant. It didn't help to tell him of her worries. No, she would have to talk to Duke Baird.
A hand on her arm held her back, when she turned away. The man looked her into the eyes intensely. He nodded slightly. "You're pretty convincing, you know. And you may in fact be the Prince's only chance." He murmured. Then he let her go, flattened his hair a bit and straightened. All of a sudden, he seemed pretty intimidating and respectable: a figure of authority.
"Have you all gone mad?" he let his voice boom through the chamber. Every weeping, every chatter and every other sound died. Even the priests stopped their never-ending chant. Everyone stared at the small man, who seemed to have grown at least two feet in the last few moments.
"What are you singing death-hymns for?" he told the priests off, then turning to everyone else present. "His Highness is still very much alive, if you haven't noticed. Shame on you, for losing all your faith! Shame on you! And what do you all think, you are doing here? Having a nice chat at his death-bed? Get out of here, get out, I say. Prince Jonathan needs quiet and healing. You cannot provide him with either of the two. - Duke Baird." He then turned to the latter, dismissing everyone else.
The Duke nodded, obviously relieved. "Leave." He repeated, when some looked at him questioningly. "You are of no assistance here. Go to the temples and pray for the Prince's health. That is the only way you can help him at the moment."
Everyone filed out of the room slowly, some throwing reproachful glances in the direction of the man who had quite literally kicked them out. He took no heed of them.
"Duke Baird." He repeated instead. "This young Lady told me to do what I did just then. She wanted to speak to you as well."
The duke's eyes widened in surprise, before he turned to Alanna, who was still quite stunned from the supposed servant's acting.
"You're Healer-woman Maude's apprentice, are you not?" he asked her, rubbing his head. He could feel the migraine coming. "I thought, you had been sent to the city today, to get more supplies?"
"Yes, your Grace." Alanna answered, slightly edgy. "It was there I heard about the Prince's sickness, which is why I instantly returned here, with some herbs and potions. The rest of it will be delivered at a later time, I presume."
With these words, she laid the bag she had filled at Mistress Cooper's' on the nearest table. From the corner of her eyes, she could see another one of those self-made copper-swords. But this boy would not die like the one yesterday. She would make sure of it. She would.
"It does not look like the herbs are going to be of great help, little one." The duke smiled sadly. "This sickness is just about immune to traditional, natural healing methods. And the healers are drained from their Gifts."
"But I am not, your Grace." Alanna said as intently as she could. "My mistress, healer-woman Maude did not allow me to use my Gift for healing, for fear of my over-exhaustion. I have the gift, and I am not drained. I beg of you, let me try this. Let me try to heal the prince."
He furrowed his brow. "I heard you collapsed yesterday."
"I was exhausted. I had not slept in days. Duke Baird, please. The prince will die, if no one helps him." Alanna grew more and more anxious.
The duke just stared at her. Then he nodded slightly.
Alanna smiled slightly, then turned to the servant, man, whatever. "Could you do me a favour and fetch my brother please? You know why."
He bowed and vanished, before Alanna even remembered that she hadn't ever told him her name. Or her brother's for that instance.
- - -
- - -
"We are healers. We cannot give up. Not when the fight is about a life. Any life. Especially the crown prince's."
"I know that you, that all healers, are exhausted. That you cannot do anything for this boy. But she has not been allowed to heal yet. If one does have the gift for healing, and one must use it."
"Lord Baird, you know as well I do that people who start hallucinating as fast as the Prince usually don't have much time left. Let her try it."
"But she broke down the day before. Who knows that she won't do it again?"
"The healer-woman she came with, she didn't allow her to heal. Said it was too dangerous. But for whom, for the girl or the patients?"
"Maude is unconscious."
"Her gift for healing is greater than any I have ever even heard about."
- - -
Alanna could almost hear their chatter through the thick marble walls of the Prince's bedroom. They were talking about her. They were observing her every step and action. Alanna felt like running away, but she had a duty to fulfil.
The natural methods of healing had proved useless, just as she had known, they would. Even her magic, already weakened from the happenings earlier in the city, would not suffice here, she knew.
"Thom? I need your help. I need your magic. I need everything you can give me. Put it into the fire and then don't try to intervene with my spell anymore. I don't want you to be put in danger."
"I know what you want to do. But there have been magicians more powerful and experienced than us who didn't live long enough to see the flames go out."
"I will try and call to the Mother, as I am part of her convent and as a female I am closer to her."
Thom submitted.
He reached down inside himself. There was a bright purple sphere at the core of his very being. Normally, he would pump up parts of it, like water. Today he tried something he had never done before. In his mind he saw himself grabbing the sphere, lifting it, and placing it in the fire in one smooth movement. Thom gasped. He was completely void of his gift now, no trace of magic left in his whole body. He staggered. He wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer, so he sent a quick prayer to the Gods. Now it was up to them to protect his sister. He had done everything he could. Blackness claimed his mind shortly after this.
The flames flickered in a violet colour now.
"Thank you, brother." Alanna whispered, when Thom's exhausted body sank to the ground unconscious. She didn't worry about him, since his breast rose and fell steadily with every breath he took.
She should worry about herself now, though. This was truly dangerous.
For a moment she stared at her hands which looked so pale in the flames' unnatural light. She then clenched her teeth and put her hands into the fire in grim determination.
"Good Mother." She prayed. "Mistress of the elements, lady of the seas and mountains. Have mercy, oh great one!"
The sacred words seemed to vanish out of the air, when with the sound of thunder, the flames suddenly towered over the kneeling girl.
A city materialized in front of the girl's eyes. Its black towers hummed with a noiseless melody, tempting her to approach it. The air smelled of hot sand and the sun, which was burning down mercilessly.
'But I didn't ask to See.' The thought shot through Alanna's head, before it was replaced by pure hot magic.
The magic threatened to burn her alive, and Alanna nearly screamed out in pain. She didn't though, in favour of biting her lips until they were bleeding. More and more magic poured into her, so that her already weak control slipped away even more.
'I am here, child.' A voice suddenly boomed through her ears. It obviously wasn't meant for human ears. Its sound reminded of hounds in dark woods and the huntress, setting them on a deer. Alanna released a loud cry at the words, tears tumbling down her cheeks.
'I am with you. Call him back!' The voice continued.
But Alanna wasn't able to even move at the moment. The magic, the pain were overwhelming her.
'Damn it.' She thought. 'Alanna, remember, what they told you, when you were still afraid of your Gift? Magic is only a means. It exists so you can use it. Not so it can use you.' And with this she fought. Her teeth clenched so hard, that you could hear them grind. But slowly, Alanna forced the magic surrounding her underneath her skin. She did no longer feel pain, but power. She wielded this power, but she had to concentrate hard.
'Call him back.' The voice repeated once again.
"Thank you." Alanna whispered, while she walked to the Prince's bed slowly.
She looked at him for a while, deciding what to do. She didn't really see a prince, but a boy, a young man of about sixteen years. He was handsome like the boy she was not able to save the other day, though in an entirely different way. He was dark, where the other had been light. He was screaming and clenching his fists repeatedly, while the other had lain still. 'Good.' Alanna thought to herself. 'He is still fighting.' She would save this one.
Slowly, she took his hand and kneed by his side. His blue eyes were wide open, staring unblinkingly at the sky. When Alanna looked at them, the pupils suddenly seemed to grow and grow, until Alanna could see nothing else but this. An eternity of blue and black.
Faintly she realized, that she had left her body. Wandering deeper into the shadows, she could see human forms, drifting towards the black end of the tunnel. She let herself drift with them.
Then, at the very end of the tunnel, she could see the prince. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone, just staring at the pitch-black ending before him.
'Your Highness?' she called. But he did not react. She tried again.
'Jonathan?' he turned, looking for the source of the call. But just in that moment, a great shadow moved in between them. It was a cloaked and hooded figure, at least 3 feet larger than Alanna. She recognized him at once: the Black God, the God of the dead.
'Milord, you cannot have him. Not yet. He still has things to do in his life. Please.' She begged. She didn't even try to put something like a magical shield around herself, since she knew of his power. The healers were used to surrender to no one, but to him. Alanna and the Prince depended solely on his decision.
The Black God rose his hand and touched Alanna's forehead for a moment. He nodded. Then he vanished.
Alanna did not spend any time to wonder about this, but rushed to her patient, who was drifting dangerously close to the pitch-black abyss.
'Jonathan.' She repeated softly and took his hand. 'You need to come home with me. Everybody is waiting for you.'
He looked at her for a moment, then he nodded. 'I'm coming. Thank you for coming after me.' He had a deep, even voice. It was the voice of a grown man, who knew the ways of the world, and the ways of the people. It was a king's voice.
Alanna didn't answer him, but turned around. Together they made their way back through the seemingly endless tunnel. A light spread from their joined hands, which melted all shadows away in a mixture of blue and violet. It faded though, just as the darkness faded, as they came nearer their destination.
After what seemed to be an eternity, they finally stepped out and into the real world again. Alanna found herself in her body again, though all traces of the powerful magic she had held had faded. The boy in front of her was smiling, blinking at her. "Thank you for taking me home." He whispered and closed his eyes to sleep.
Alanna smiled wearily back, before she, too, lost consciousness and fell down onto the prince's chest.
7 The Prince is ill, the nobles are mad, and Alanna saves the day.
"Bring me to the Prince", Alanna demanded of the elderly, sloppily dressed man, who had just about run into her. He looked like a drunkard of sorts, but also radiated an odd feeling of sympathy.
"I." He opened his mouth, probably to deny her the wish, but a hard look in her eyes shut him up.
"I have medical herbs and potions with me. He needs to get them. Immediately."
Without further objection he turned into another direction, his gestures silently telling her to follow him. They rushed through corridors and halls which, though normally crowded, were unnaturally silent and empty. The people's worry about the crown prince seemed to have stopped about all the normal activities. When the sickness had put everyone here through a however cruel or sad personal fate, daily routine had never failed to prevail. The general disaster though, the sickness of their future king, had shaken everyone badly.
"Do you know about his Highness's current state?" Alanna asked quietly, feeling like desecrating the silence if she spoke too loudly.
The man nodded. "It is bad. Seems like he's already hallucinating. The priests are already singing their hymns, I hear, and the noble folks are crowding in his chambers."
Bad. Very bad, Alanna thought. Most of those hallucinating this early didn't live through the day. Like that blond boy. Alanna gulped. She decided to ask another question.
"Do you know, if healer-woman Maude is at the Prince's chambers as well?"
"Maude, you say? If you mean the one from fief Trebond, then she isn't. The Queen had a relapse today, and the healer-woman saved her. Seems, she overly exhausted herself in the progress. Couldn't do much more than breathing afterwards, or so they say. But the other healers don't seem to have that much more strength left either."
But she lives, Alanna told herself. She lives.
Alanna could hear low chanting now, and knew they were nearing their destination. Next, a young girl of about sixteen crossed their way, loudly weeping while she ran. Alanna recognised her as the Prince's latest conquest. Amalia of Tollhorn, some or other. She recognized her because Thom had sent her one of the drawings the love-sick Prince had made of her some weeks ago. But that wasn't important now. Important was.
Alanna gasped. They had reached the doors to the royal bedroom, and - it was crowded. The air was thick with incense; monks chanted; nobles prayed, talked or watched silently; Duke Baird, the head of healers, was leaning at the wall, a hopeless expression on his face. But what really hit Alanna hard was the sight of a pale, black haired boy on the four-poster bed in the middle of the room. He didn't do anything, just lying there, his eyes closed, while drops of sweat slowly rolled down his face, and his limbs trembled in occasional spasms. Alanna stared at him, until he suddenly opened his dried lips and screamed noiselessly in obvious fear.
Alanna turned to the elderly man, whose arm she just realized she had clawed into. Slowly, she released him. He smiled at her in an understanding way.
"How is the Prince supposed to heal, if he doesn't even get the chance to breathe properly in here? All this incense, the people.. I don't understand why Lord Baird lets this happen. Even in my first year as apprentice, I would've never done anything like this. Don't those stupid nobles know even the rudimentary rules of healing? This is unbelievable." Alanna rambled. She didn't even realise, how reproachful the look in her eyes must have been.
The man sighed sadly. "What do you expect me to do? Kick them out? These people here have the right to be by their Prince's side in times of emergency, haven't they? They think so, anyway."
"But by being at his side, as you say, they only worsen the situation. Look at Duke Baird, I beg you. He is exhausted, and doesn't know what to do anymore. Neither of the healers knows what to do anymore. They have all used their Gifts as much as they could. And now the crown-prince has fallen ill, and I am probably the only one with the Healing Gift who is not exhausted. I am only an apprentice, but with this illness, this is of no importance. You cannot fight with experience or knowledge here. What counts, is pure power, and that I still have. I was sent here because of the extend of my Gift. Though with the help of my brother I could probably near double it."
Breathing deeply, Alanna stopped. She didn't even know, why she was telling him this. After all, he was just some sloppy old man, maybe an elderly servant. It didn't help to tell him of her worries. No, she would have to talk to Duke Baird.
A hand on her arm held her back, when she turned away. The man looked her into the eyes intensely. He nodded slightly. "You're pretty convincing, you know. And you may in fact be the Prince's only chance." He murmured. Then he let her go, flattened his hair a bit and straightened. All of a sudden, he seemed pretty intimidating and respectable: a figure of authority.
"Have you all gone mad?" he let his voice boom through the chamber. Every weeping, every chatter and every other sound died. Even the priests stopped their never-ending chant. Everyone stared at the small man, who seemed to have grown at least two feet in the last few moments.
"What are you singing death-hymns for?" he told the priests off, then turning to everyone else present. "His Highness is still very much alive, if you haven't noticed. Shame on you, for losing all your faith! Shame on you! And what do you all think, you are doing here? Having a nice chat at his death-bed? Get out of here, get out, I say. Prince Jonathan needs quiet and healing. You cannot provide him with either of the two. - Duke Baird." He then turned to the latter, dismissing everyone else.
The Duke nodded, obviously relieved. "Leave." He repeated, when some looked at him questioningly. "You are of no assistance here. Go to the temples and pray for the Prince's health. That is the only way you can help him at the moment."
Everyone filed out of the room slowly, some throwing reproachful glances in the direction of the man who had quite literally kicked them out. He took no heed of them.
"Duke Baird." He repeated instead. "This young Lady told me to do what I did just then. She wanted to speak to you as well."
The duke's eyes widened in surprise, before he turned to Alanna, who was still quite stunned from the supposed servant's acting.
"You're Healer-woman Maude's apprentice, are you not?" he asked her, rubbing his head. He could feel the migraine coming. "I thought, you had been sent to the city today, to get more supplies?"
"Yes, your Grace." Alanna answered, slightly edgy. "It was there I heard about the Prince's sickness, which is why I instantly returned here, with some herbs and potions. The rest of it will be delivered at a later time, I presume."
With these words, she laid the bag she had filled at Mistress Cooper's' on the nearest table. From the corner of her eyes, she could see another one of those self-made copper-swords. But this boy would not die like the one yesterday. She would make sure of it. She would.
"It does not look like the herbs are going to be of great help, little one." The duke smiled sadly. "This sickness is just about immune to traditional, natural healing methods. And the healers are drained from their Gifts."
"But I am not, your Grace." Alanna said as intently as she could. "My mistress, healer-woman Maude did not allow me to use my Gift for healing, for fear of my over-exhaustion. I have the gift, and I am not drained. I beg of you, let me try this. Let me try to heal the prince."
He furrowed his brow. "I heard you collapsed yesterday."
"I was exhausted. I had not slept in days. Duke Baird, please. The prince will die, if no one helps him." Alanna grew more and more anxious.
The duke just stared at her. Then he nodded slightly.
Alanna smiled slightly, then turned to the servant, man, whatever. "Could you do me a favour and fetch my brother please? You know why."
He bowed and vanished, before Alanna even remembered that she hadn't ever told him her name. Or her brother's for that instance.
- - -
- - -
"We are healers. We cannot give up. Not when the fight is about a life. Any life. Especially the crown prince's."
"I know that you, that all healers, are exhausted. That you cannot do anything for this boy. But she has not been allowed to heal yet. If one does have the gift for healing, and one must use it."
"Lord Baird, you know as well I do that people who start hallucinating as fast as the Prince usually don't have much time left. Let her try it."
"But she broke down the day before. Who knows that she won't do it again?"
"The healer-woman she came with, she didn't allow her to heal. Said it was too dangerous. But for whom, for the girl or the patients?"
"Maude is unconscious."
"Her gift for healing is greater than any I have ever even heard about."
- - -
Alanna could almost hear their chatter through the thick marble walls of the Prince's bedroom. They were talking about her. They were observing her every step and action. Alanna felt like running away, but she had a duty to fulfil.
The natural methods of healing had proved useless, just as she had known, they would. Even her magic, already weakened from the happenings earlier in the city, would not suffice here, she knew.
"Thom? I need your help. I need your magic. I need everything you can give me. Put it into the fire and then don't try to intervene with my spell anymore. I don't want you to be put in danger."
"I know what you want to do. But there have been magicians more powerful and experienced than us who didn't live long enough to see the flames go out."
"I will try and call to the Mother, as I am part of her convent and as a female I am closer to her."
Thom submitted.
He reached down inside himself. There was a bright purple sphere at the core of his very being. Normally, he would pump up parts of it, like water. Today he tried something he had never done before. In his mind he saw himself grabbing the sphere, lifting it, and placing it in the fire in one smooth movement. Thom gasped. He was completely void of his gift now, no trace of magic left in his whole body. He staggered. He wouldn't be able to stay conscious much longer, so he sent a quick prayer to the Gods. Now it was up to them to protect his sister. He had done everything he could. Blackness claimed his mind shortly after this.
The flames flickered in a violet colour now.
"Thank you, brother." Alanna whispered, when Thom's exhausted body sank to the ground unconscious. She didn't worry about him, since his breast rose and fell steadily with every breath he took.
She should worry about herself now, though. This was truly dangerous.
For a moment she stared at her hands which looked so pale in the flames' unnatural light. She then clenched her teeth and put her hands into the fire in grim determination.
"Good Mother." She prayed. "Mistress of the elements, lady of the seas and mountains. Have mercy, oh great one!"
The sacred words seemed to vanish out of the air, when with the sound of thunder, the flames suddenly towered over the kneeling girl.
A city materialized in front of the girl's eyes. Its black towers hummed with a noiseless melody, tempting her to approach it. The air smelled of hot sand and the sun, which was burning down mercilessly.
'But I didn't ask to See.' The thought shot through Alanna's head, before it was replaced by pure hot magic.
The magic threatened to burn her alive, and Alanna nearly screamed out in pain. She didn't though, in favour of biting her lips until they were bleeding. More and more magic poured into her, so that her already weak control slipped away even more.
'I am here, child.' A voice suddenly boomed through her ears. It obviously wasn't meant for human ears. Its sound reminded of hounds in dark woods and the huntress, setting them on a deer. Alanna released a loud cry at the words, tears tumbling down her cheeks.
'I am with you. Call him back!' The voice continued.
But Alanna wasn't able to even move at the moment. The magic, the pain were overwhelming her.
'Damn it.' She thought. 'Alanna, remember, what they told you, when you were still afraid of your Gift? Magic is only a means. It exists so you can use it. Not so it can use you.' And with this she fought. Her teeth clenched so hard, that you could hear them grind. But slowly, Alanna forced the magic surrounding her underneath her skin. She did no longer feel pain, but power. She wielded this power, but she had to concentrate hard.
'Call him back.' The voice repeated once again.
"Thank you." Alanna whispered, while she walked to the Prince's bed slowly.
She looked at him for a while, deciding what to do. She didn't really see a prince, but a boy, a young man of about sixteen years. He was handsome like the boy she was not able to save the other day, though in an entirely different way. He was dark, where the other had been light. He was screaming and clenching his fists repeatedly, while the other had lain still. 'Good.' Alanna thought to herself. 'He is still fighting.' She would save this one.
Slowly, she took his hand and kneed by his side. His blue eyes were wide open, staring unblinkingly at the sky. When Alanna looked at them, the pupils suddenly seemed to grow and grow, until Alanna could see nothing else but this. An eternity of blue and black.
Faintly she realized, that she had left her body. Wandering deeper into the shadows, she could see human forms, drifting towards the black end of the tunnel. She let herself drift with them.
Then, at the very end of the tunnel, she could see the prince. He seemed to be waiting for something or someone, just staring at the pitch-black ending before him.
'Your Highness?' she called. But he did not react. She tried again.
'Jonathan?' he turned, looking for the source of the call. But just in that moment, a great shadow moved in between them. It was a cloaked and hooded figure, at least 3 feet larger than Alanna. She recognized him at once: the Black God, the God of the dead.
'Milord, you cannot have him. Not yet. He still has things to do in his life. Please.' She begged. She didn't even try to put something like a magical shield around herself, since she knew of his power. The healers were used to surrender to no one, but to him. Alanna and the Prince depended solely on his decision.
The Black God rose his hand and touched Alanna's forehead for a moment. He nodded. Then he vanished.
Alanna did not spend any time to wonder about this, but rushed to her patient, who was drifting dangerously close to the pitch-black abyss.
'Jonathan.' She repeated softly and took his hand. 'You need to come home with me. Everybody is waiting for you.'
He looked at her for a moment, then he nodded. 'I'm coming. Thank you for coming after me.' He had a deep, even voice. It was the voice of a grown man, who knew the ways of the world, and the ways of the people. It was a king's voice.
Alanna didn't answer him, but turned around. Together they made their way back through the seemingly endless tunnel. A light spread from their joined hands, which melted all shadows away in a mixture of blue and violet. It faded though, just as the darkness faded, as they came nearer their destination.
After what seemed to be an eternity, they finally stepped out and into the real world again. Alanna found herself in her body again, though all traces of the powerful magic she had held had faded. The boy in front of her was smiling, blinking at her. "Thank you for taking me home." He whispered and closed his eyes to sleep.
Alanna smiled wearily back, before she, too, lost consciousness and fell down onto the prince's chest.