Lazarus

Those eyes, everything but the pupils consumed, swallowed by an awful intruding red, his thin shape sitting there even within the thick cloth and the sheets of the bed I can tell he's shivering like he's reciding somewhere stripped away from the warmth of the sun. Somewhere within my heart, there's this stabbing feeling, ushering in an almost familiar cold rising a want, a wish for help, I want to help... but what can I do? He looks so pale already, did his shock upon seeing me make his condition worse?

"Khatryn, don't just stand there in the doorway, come inside and sit down." Arthur... I should listen, he's been such a great help, even with me having no answers or anything to give outside being an old legend given shape, shedding lights on his far bygone childhood stories. My legs are shivering like leaves in the wind, just a few more steps forward and I can sit down, the wood below's significantly smoother than the ones shaping the steps upwards, lightly brushing up against my one unbandaged sole, so light, and with a slight warmth to it, did it come from the sun shining in? Just a bit further now, the soft brush of the chair arms against my trembling fingers is so relieving, lifting away the strain... I need to get better quickly if this is all I can do.

"Now why are you up and about all the way up here?" Oh, of course, I need to tell him.

("Was looking for Mary, thought that she might be upstairs somewhere") Is he smiling? He is, a warmth almost stretching from his frail lips to his silver eyes.

"Doctor... who, who's this girl? Why, does she got wings?" The boy, even now past the door his voice is faint and soft, almost a mere whisper bearly to be heard. His confusion is clear as the rays through this window. Arthur's turning his attention back towards that ill child.

"She's a visitor, but your gonna have to keep that a secret after you get home." His eyes, look so sad like there are no tears left to cry, just some empty swelling on those dark blue bags.

"Home... you really think I'll get better... mom, mom, and dad they looked, hopeless." Arthur... Your smiling that smile now, but you're holding back arent you? Just smiling to ease the ailing one in front as you bottle up your own grief. I can tell, somehow I can feel it, is it the air or that almost defeated vacant look behind those glasses above the stretched lips of ease?

"I'm sure Lazarus, here, make sure to drink it all up." He had stood up before I realized, quickly sweeping a vial from the desk filled with books, I wonder what's inside, the liquid within's cloudy without many hues of color but there is one faintly standing out, a weak pink hue faintly shining as the sunlight travels through the glass.

The vial meets the trembling boy's lips and within moments there's a tension being lifted as he slides back with comfort as his bloodied eyes close only betraying some slight subconscious shivers as he falls away into the realm of dreams. The pale thin body relaxing as his faint breaths even out, this, I need to know.

("What's wrong with him?") Those wise eyes staring back at me beyond those small glass panes seem now at a loss, yet the frown returns, showing thought, but one I'm unsure of, why do I feel this way? He will have an answer soon... right?

"Honestly, I'm not quite sure, nothing seems effective, given how long it's plagued him I'm uncertain whether he'll make it through the next four days." That can't be... why, in what world should a child like this be doomed to such a fate? It's not fair... it is not... Huh? Is there a hand on my shoulder? But Arthur is all the way over there in his own chair, just who? This feeling... this oh so familiar loneliness, emanating from a cold clawed hand covered with scales, moments before those broken whispers would ensue just what is... the room, its no longer here? Where did I go? Where is this? My surroundings all seem so faint bathed in a spectacle of strange colored lights in which hundreds of wings sound somewhere beyond this incomprehensible sight. There's something else, some tune carried by an unseen choir elevating itself, growing from somewhere below, as that storm of wings turning into a loud crescendo sending innumerable beats of air colliding with my very own form.

My hands are empty, my scarred body bare, bathed in this spectral palette of unknown origins, these blurry shines gathering, fading into some sort of bright orb slowly floating towards me within this wast mysterious space, edging closer, its body almost close enough to touch my stretched out hand... when did I reach out? I don't know, but somehow I feel like it's the right thing to do, no matter what may come upon contact with this alien sphere. It's lukewarm, pulsing as it envelops my fingers, wrist, and arm about to embrace me fully within its body, or is it more fitting to call it some sort of... membrane? I don't know, my mind, it's growing foggy, fuzzy like the touch on my fingertips, someplace in front within this consuming spectacle an image grows forth, a room lined with strange equipment, and numerous books lining the wall to the left lit up by the fiery sun peeking through the window within its center, two bodies sitting in chairs by the desk in which most the books make their home, one old and grey, dawning glasses in front of clear silver eyes dressed in a long beige coat, the other a young bandaged girl, hair white as snow, two wings springing from her partially exposed back, wearing a pale summer dress reaching down to her knees. And on the right, there's a bed with a boy covered in a wicked smog leaking from his chest, mouth, and eyelids. The winged girl's standing up her crimson eyes shining with an unnamable hue, her steps straight and methodical, in no time she's there standing over the plagued child stretching out her arms... is it, is that me? The room, it's the same, Arthur is here looking bewildered and confused, just what am I doing? The other me in front, her hands are locking around Lazarus's shoulders leaning his limp body upwards in an embrace, her wings... my wings suddenly glowing with a spectacle rivaling the sun over the hills beyond this room, encasing us both in a sudden orb of indescribable colors.