« h… how did i get here…? »
“Oh, praise the Cosmos, you’re awake!”
It’s rare for anyone to hear the Vicar’s tone change from the usual calm - or even cold- tone, but he couldn’t help himself.
Letting out a soft sigh of relief, he finally relaxes against the chair he put close to the bed where Jacques lied on, offering a kind smile to the hunter.
“Ludwig found you out of the Cathedral, drenched in blood.
We thought you were a goner…”
it is all a blur. he vaguely remembers only the violence, the pain of being hit over and over again, the cold ground he fell onto. then... nothing. the darkness surrounded him, and is now setting him free, slowly, like arms that pulled him into a hug softly letting him go ; and the first thing he notices is light. soffused, smelling of candles and incense. he realizes after a moment how he’s not on the ground anymore, lying now on a soft mattress and pillows, and the question came natural to him —— how did i get here? asked more to himself, as for a moment he thought the vicar was just wasn’t there for real. how many times, after all, has he desired a friendly face beside him so much to starting seeing them in blurs, where they weren’t?
yet, the vicar starts talking, and jacques not only realizes he’s truly there, but also remembers. outside the cathedral... drenched in blood... ludwig... the images suddenly flash in his mind, despite confusing. his attempt to take on a tall creature carrying a bag. its frenzy, the sudden outburst of violence. the hunter killing it just before the final blow could be dealt - only to faint for blood loss and wounds a moment after. he almost got himself killed... why did he tried to...?
only a name reappears in his mind, but it’s enough to make him spring up, suddenly sitting on the bed like someone suddenly awaken from his dreams.
« yahar'gul —— !! »
the ache gets to him so suddenly to stop his breath for a moment, and he falls back on the bed, wheezing in pain. one hand instinctively goes for the head, pulsing strongly, and he feels a bandage wrapped around his forehead under the fingers. right, his head... that creature grasped it and started to slam it on the ground, again and again. that tremendous headache... it doesn’t let him feel the pain in the leg, at the very least. he lowers his gaze, giving himself a quick, though partial, check: the bare chest and one arm are covered in bandages, quite clean though signs of blood are visible —— a couple slightly widening, because of his sudden movement.
jacques attempts a deep breath, that gets reduced to a groan and a slight gasp. he’s trembling ever so slightly, looking around with wide eyes, and inevitably he attempts to stand up again, though going much more slowly this time.
« i have t — to go, i have to —— » he begins stuttering. every movement is a new rush of pain, and he’s not even fully seated yet. « laurence, i h-have to go, i —— ... »
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