unreality, shattered
Lux had thought it was over, thought he’d died with the voice of his mother still echoing in his ears. But here the healer is again, and he’s drained, horribly so, his magic is tingling and he’s saying Lux, Lux —
Lux can’t risk it being real. As long as he’s still alive, he still has magic to give; that’s what Alex would say, at least.
He forces energy out through his shattered nerves into the healer’s shaking hands.
Anders takes Lux’s hands, opening up a conduit between their magic. He’s near tears, murmuring please, and his leg hurts, it hurts so badly, Lux can feel that pulsating pain through their connection. Lux can fix that. He will soothe that pain, if it kills him. Anders deserves a day without pain.
Taryn doesn’t need anything, does she? No, no, this must be Jordan. Jordan’s really outdone himself this time. He’s given Lux the feeling of a bed, of warm blankets, of bottles of warm water pressed to his chest. He’s recreated, astoundingly, the feeling of Taryn replenishing his magic, the warmth running through her fingers and deep into Lux’s abused lungs. Lux wants to press himself to her imaginary chest, take as much from her as he can, she’s so good at this, it feels so good, he’s desperate for it to continue —
He needs to thank Jordan, needs to, or this mercy might vanish. He can’t form the words. The muscles of his jaw are frozen crystal, his nerves are shut down, drained, useless.
The room is thick with the mist of magic-replenishing oil, and the heat is cranked up all the way. Anders is sweating, in a t-shirt and shorts in the middle of winter. Lux, on the other hand, lies under three blankets, surrounded by hot water-bottles, with a wool hat over his curls. Still, Lux’s hands, wrapped in Anders’, are the coldest thing in the room.
Lux can’t see, Alex tells them. Drained as badly as he is, the senses go. Sight goes first. Hearing might be there, somewhat, might not be. Touch is the last sense to remain, so Anders holds Lux’s hands, strokes the inside of his palm, and tries to push magic in. “Lux… please… Lux…” he whispers, a catch in his voice.
Lux doesn’t move, but Anders suddenly feels something cool and soothing in his knee, easing the hot, throbbing pulse over stiff muscles and ligaments. Anders lets go with a start. “Fuck, he’s trying to heal me, why — how can he even be trying to heal me?”
“He did it to me, too,” says Alex. “They must have drained his power by convincing him we needed it.”
“Let me try,” says Taryn softly. She perches on the bed next to Lux, wraps her hands around his, and brings light into Lux’s hands.
It’s harder than lending Alex magic. It’s harder to hold back. The hollow emptiness in Lux is deeper, more furious, than even Alex at his worst. Lux had more power, to begin with. It will take more, to replenish it. But it works.
Taryn holds back, feeding Lux magic low and slow. His exhausted body absorbs it instantly. The first change they can see, the first effect it has, is that Lux starts to shiver. It’s not conscious movement, but it’s something, some intact physiological process, and it’s the first thing that makes Lux look alive.
No one should be this cold and not shiver.
The shivering is weak at first, then violent, and when Taryn’s almost depleted, a moan issues from Lux’s lips.
“Lux? Lux, are you trying to say something?” Taryn presses Lux’s hands in encouragement.
“Th-th —“ Another low moan of frustration.
“It’s okay. Take it easy. Try again.”
“Th-th-tha — you — J-J-Jordan —“
“Who’s Jordan? It’s me. Taryn.” She strokes a hand through his curls, then rubs more oil on his cold, shaking hands before she presses her magic in again, swallowing a cough she hopes no one sees. A couple more minutes, though, and Lux shudders, jerks, his body too full of foreign energy.
“He can’t take any more,” she says. “We have to wait, for some of his to come back.”
Th-th-thank you, J-Jordan, he manages, after what feels like hours, hours of effort to form the words.
Of course, he realizes, his gratitude came too late, his stutter failed to evoke Jordan’s sympathies.
Because only a few minutes later, the illusion is gone, Taryn’s warm and soothing hands are gone, and Lux is blind, and cold, and alone.
