Snippet #1483224

His entire world was pain. Kervall felt as if he were immersed, dozens of feet under the surface within the sea of his mind. Below him, a black hole of the deepest unconsciousness loomed, taunting him with promises of sweet oblivion. Above him shone recalescent, searing light, piercing every movement. Time seemed to drag on, and there seemed to be voices floating down to him from above the surface, but he could not understand them. He heard shouting, and recognized a few of the timbers. His father, his brother, perhaps the King.

Directly above him, through the dark murkiness, Kurt saw the face of Adelaide within a pulsing penumbra. It brought warmth to his heart, a beacon of comfort surrounded by nothing but brutality and cruelty. He swam upwards.

Every movement brought torture. Every masochistic stroke ignited conflagration through his every vein, but he forced himself onward, spurred by the face of the princess hovering before him. Onwards he pushed, moving slower and slower. He glanced below him, where the abyss beckoned with chilly fingers, offering the wonderful release of emptiness. He ignored it and forced himself to continue towards the surface, using every ounce of willpower within him to finally break his head above the waves. Light, sound, and agony exploded around him.


Kervall turned his head and coughed, spitting blood onto the grass, then moved his head slowly about, searching for Adelaide. He caught her gaze, and he smiled - actually smiled - when he saw her, some of his teeth stained crimson. He reached up a hand, and when she took it, he squeezed, his strength perhaps surprising giving his current condition. Then he spoke, his voice barely above a whisper, and through all the commotion he hoped only she could hear him, "Adelaide. Please... please stop them. Please do not let them fight. I am fine." Then he laughed, though it was more of a coughing wheeze, "Or at least I will be." He grimaced, trying to shift his position, put an arm under him and actually tried to push himself up into a sitting position before she could stop him. His broken ribs were not exactly amenable to that idea, however, and a spasm of black torment bombarded his body, causing him to fall back to the ground. His eyes closed, and he whispered once more, barely audible above the shouting around them, "Tell my father... tell him I am sorry."

And then the looming, undeniable blackness swallowed him.