Prince of The Abyss-Chapter 194: Denial(20)

He wasn't one to wait; his nature was a complete contradiction to the whole concept of waiting. He wanted go, but he knew he couldn't. He had to wait for his body, and yet, he felt trapped. As if he were chained, and these wounds were the chains.

Was it that he was just... excited?

After all, if he was able to learn the truth about Denial and beat the guy, then he could finally come out of the Tides.

I mean, he could finally start to clear his trial, he could finally start to live, to try and become a Seeker.

But before, he had to wait.

His wounds had to heal.

Every breath pressed inward, shallow and careful, like his lungs had learned fear before he had. His ribs refused to move the way they should; each inhale was a negotiation, each exhale a small mercy. Somewhere beneath the dull haze, something throbbed with a slow, patient rhythm, not sharp enough to scream, not kind enough to fade. His body was reminding him that height was not forgiven easily.

He lay still because stillness was all he had. Even the smallest shift sent a warning through him, a tightening, a pressure that felt less like pain and more like restraint. As if his own bones had decided to hold him in place. As if the fall had reached up and grabbed him after the fact, refusing to let go.

Time stretched. It always did when he needed it to move.

He tried to focus on anything else. The ceiling, the air, the weight of his own heartbeat. But his thoughts kept slipping forward, running ahead of him like they always did, already at the moment where he stood again, where the Tides no longer pressed in around him, where Denial was no longer a name that lingered unresolved. He could see it too clearly, the path opening, the trial finally acknowledging him.

That was the worst part.

His mind was already moving, already reaching, while his body lagged behind, fractured and stubborn. The contradiction gnawed at him. He had survived the fall, yes, but survival was not momentum. Survival was this. Waiting. Healing. Letting time do its quiet, infuriating work.

He closed his eyes, not to rest, but to endure.

Soon, he told himself. Not yet, but soon.

For now, the chains held.

...

Six weeks, six whole god damn weeks, was how long he was stuck to this bed, not moving an inch. Yet now, he thought that his body had moved enough to at least walk with a cane, so he asked for one.

His first steps with it were weird, almost as if his feet had forgotten how to walk. He didn't know if it was because he just hadn't used them for long enough. Or because they weren't used to the cane.

Probably the former.

But even if it wasn't perfect, he could walk. After so much, some of his freedom was finally given back to him; he could walk, to see the world beyond his room, yet not beyond the Inn.

Really, seeing the Inn like this, full of people, stirred up something inside of him. He didn't know what. But he felt a connection with them. It was because of them that he was found after the fall.

Aether moved with his cane to the counter, standing in front of the old owner.

"You know, I never got your name."

The woman raised her eyebrow before he burst out laughing, realizing he was right, even after all this time, he had not gotten her name, where were her manners?

"My name is Abygail, you know, with a y instead of the first i?"

...

After getting used to walking with his cane, Aether had started to try to train in some way, walking around the Inn like he was a robber trying to steal everything at night. But Abygail had allowed him.

Really, it was weird, but the people here wanted to help him with all their power. Which he didn't understand, since being from a place like the Withered, and he was right not to think everything was right. The people here, they were challenging the trial through him.

They had long accepted that they couldn't do it. So they were just going to succeed through him.

It was almost heartbreaking, so many people believing in him, and hoping for his best, but it was just that it was a lot of pressure, having so many people after you.

And to make it worst he had gotten to know them quite well, to know their names, their former jobs, their former ideals, and stuff.

When he came out of his room, the other would roar... it was hard, he didn't want to disappoint them all.

If they were just some strangers, he wouldn't have cared that much. But they weren't

...

...

Another seven weeks have passed since then, a whole three months he had spent in recovery. And really, it was too much waiting; he didn't know how he had handled it.

His body was a lot better.

Bones are solid, muscles have adjusted, and the fear response tied to movement fades.

He can move freely without guarding his torso.

The only thing left might be stiffness in the morning or a faint ache in bad weather.

He had fully recovered, really; he finally got the chance to leave this place.

Yet even with a full recovery, his ribs were still sensitive, and he felt that they were going to be that way for a while.

...

Really, he didn't know how he was going to do this.

Saying his goodbye, he wans't used to it.

He gripped the wood of the counter, not sure how he should handle this. Would they even accept a goodbye after they saved him? Would they be happy to go and ascend back to real life for them?

He sighs. Pushing a glass off the table.

The sound of it cracking rang in the whole Inn, as everyone stopped what they were doing to see what in the hell had happened.

"Everyone... I am leaving tomorrow. Thank you for all. But it's time I take my leave."

No one said a word; they just watched and listened, as if trying to see if he was really speaking the truth or not. Whether he was lying or not.

Only Abygail didn't seem phased by his comment, coming to get the shards of glass and throwing them.

She wiped the dust from her hand and smiled, looking at her people.

"Isn't that awesome? One of us is going to learn about how to beat Denial, and might actually get back to earth... for all of us." She said, pouring herself a drink and lifting it up in the air. The people stared, unsure of what they were supposed to do next.

"Come on, raise your drink in honor of this moment."

...

It wasn't long before every hand in the room raised a glass. The Inn was very united, he knew that well, but still seeing it, and for him, was a bit overwhelming. Ascending for them, he didn't understand why some people were just satisfied with one of their people getting their life back when they could try themselves.

After that, the night went on for longer than usual, as the people started to party, getting drunk, well drunk in their mind, since they were dead and couldn't get drunk. It... was funny, seeing how they acted, really, he didn't expect to see himself smiling so much ever again ever since the Rebellion.

But soon the night came upon them, and all the people left, and those who had rooms in the Inn went to their inns, leaving him and Abygail, who was taking care of the dishes.

"Thank you... You know for doing this for us. You probably don't understand, but why means a lot to us." The woman said while cleaning a plate. Water flowing between the cracks of her fingers, brushing out the soap.

"I don't get it. Why are you satisfied with someone else getting their life back, instead of you? When you try so much to be human again, is that a side effect of denying your own death for too long?"

The women burst out laughing.

"No, it's not. Or at least I don't think so. The real reason is quite simple: we know we won't be able to do it ourselves, beat the trial, meaning we are never going to get our lives back, and so, we try and live those lives through people who can ascend, or who ascended."

...

"Its selfish, but would you let us live like humans through you. I must ask, for you, and the others, to clear the trial, if not for you, for us."

Aether didn't respond, taking everything in. And thinking deeply about it.

"Of course...

And I promise that when I come back, I'll find a way to get you guys with me."

The woman laughed at his bold claim.

...

But he was determined.

Tomorrow was the moment of his departure... he was going to find them, no matter what.