The Mephit's Tales

All around him, the city was alive – people went about their lives, going their separate ways, joining and leaving the flow of bodies. At first glance, all was as it should be.

But then he saw that nobody passed by him unscathed. Anyone who so much as went near him, anyone whose path he crossed, was left… scarred. Faces that had been pristine were instead marred by lines or patches where the fur would not grow; some of those in his wake walked with limps, or hobbled with the aid of canes or staves.

He tried to back away, but hands gripped his shoulders – hands that ran with their owners’ blood, but nevertheless forced him forward. The clothing of those who passed next to him became stained with red; flesh withered. And then he was helpless to pull away as someone walked right up to him, white fur blossoming with patches of ugly red. She reached forward, her hand little more than skin and bone by the time it seized his muzzle, and she leaned closer, bringing her muzzle up to his –

He lurched back, flailing amid the sheets before it quite registered that the dream was past. He’d cried out; now he sat, panting, trying to push the awful vision out of his mind.

Whether this was better or worse than the last night’s dreams, he wasn’t sure, but it was certainly dreadful. Even his dreams were hammering home the harm he’d done.

(more…)

The door closed behind him, again with a curiously muted sound – but this time, it was reversed; instead of keeping sound within the room from leaving it, the barrier blocked sound from outside, leaving those within in peaceful isolation, while those beyond remained able to hear, should some sound of genuine distress emerge.

It was, he knew, a standard setup for a convalescent’s quarters; Tavi had expressed regret that her expertise did not extend to giving him true privacy for a time. But it was still enough to make his potential tasks here somewhat embarrassing – especially knowing that his guards would be right outside the door. The healer had spoken sternly to them, making it as clear as she could that anything that happened here would be for Dren’s benefit and was to be kept in confidence – but the skeptical looks they’d given him all the same nearly made him quail.

But no. He had to try – had to give Dren whatever peace of mind he could, in whatever form it took. Dren was broken at his order; it was only right that he made an effort to mend him.

(more…)