The Forgotten Zodiac

"Sylas collapsed. We don't know what's wrong, L'arc sent me to get you." Verolen grabbed Bermuda's arm the moment he could, practically dragging the healer back to their room.

Reetah was inside now, pounding on Sylas' chest with both hands. It didn't seem to be helping much; she forced air into his lungs and forced his heart to beat, but Sylas wasn't responding. Reetah glanced up when Bermuda came in. "He had a heart attack," She puffed, still working to manually keep Sylas alive. "We need to shock his heart into working again! I can't do this forever,"

"Shock him? But...how? None of us know any spells like that, and it's not even storming outside..." Verolen frowned.

"You'd better think of something fast, because the longer I have to do this, the higher the chance of brain damage!" Reetah shrieked at him.

Bermuda reached out, placing his palm against Sylas's forehead. A soft glow emitted from the mark on Bermuda's wrist, before the spirit that used to provide the nereid's life force transferred itself into Sylas's body.

"C'mon, Adahre... wake him up," Bermuda murmured, though he himself had grown pale.

For a long time, nothing happened at all.

Then Sylas' spine arced, and he let out a wail that could have very well been a scream. Reetah held him down as he thrashed and struggled. When he finally relaxed again, she hurried to check his vitals. She sighed heavily and relaxed again. "He's breathing again, and his heartbeat is normal. Thank goodness..."

"What caused it?" Verolen questioned, frowning.

"You tell me. What was he doing before he collapsed?"

"He was just talking to me," L'arc said. "He was talking to me, and then he just... collapsed."

Bermuda frowned, leaning against the bed as he sighed. "Adahre should be able to support him for as long as he's in there," he said. "And I'll be fine until Sylas can support himself."

((Adhare would be able to sense the scraps of Dark Matter attacking Sylas' insides.))

"Right." Reetah sighed heavily. She knelt and scooped Sylas up, gently getting him back into bed. She tucked him in, then turned around and pulled something from her bag. "Here," She handed it to L'arc, along with ink and a pen. "This was sent for you."

On the first sheet of parchment, as there were many, was Bershee's elegant handwriting. 'This is Telltale paper. What you write will appear on both your sheets and mine. I apologize for the time I took getting these to you, there were many logistical issues that needed to be worked out.'

Verolen read it over L'arc's shoulder, then frowned. "How DID she get these here?"

"How should I know? They appeared on the doorstep in an envelope." Reetah shrugged. "Call me if you need anything. I need to check on Minori and let him know what's going on."

L'arc stood up slowly, reading Bershee's letter as he did. "I need to find some ink. Will someone--"

As if predicting L'arc's question, Bermuda cut across it. "I'll stay in here with Sylas. I can't wander too far, anyways," he said. L'arc nodded.

"I'll be back soon," he said.

((Reetah already gave him ink, but I'm guessing you're about to do something, so I'll leave it be.))

Sylas opened his eyes a sliver to watch L'arc go,but he fell unconscious again within seconds. In the dark recesses of his mind, he was aware of a foreign something that should not have been there. In his unconsciousness, he drearily attempted communication with it. Who are you? It was a very simple question, but it seemed to take years to get out. Could this foreign object hear his subconscious thoughts? Pushing words into his consciousness was causing him to mumble in his sleep.

Wait...how did he know that? This was one odd dream...a dream. That's what it was. Sylas relaxed, shrugging off the concept of something being in his mind that shouldn't have been. It was all just a dream, and of course it was. He would forget all this when he woke up.

It's okay. It's only me, replied the seperate consciousness inside Sylas' body. Adahre, he supplied, hoping to comfort the human with the recognition. You'll be all right, no worries!

Bermuda glanced up to Sylas as he heard the boy mumble, sitting up slightly to look at his face. "Sy? You awake?" he asked.

Adahre...the crazy man sharing a body with Bermuda. Why was he here? Just a dream, that's right...no. This wasn't a dream. He heard his name on the outside world. He was conscious, but only just. He felt...miserable. So he turned to his thoughts again. What happened? Another simple question, another age to get out. Hopefully Adahre would have answers...one second he was pacing, conscious, feeling fine...the next, collapsing and unable to breathe.

Adahre seemed to hesiatate in his reply. ...Don't force your reply. So long as I am within you, I can hear your thoughts. And I am not crazy! Pffft. But on to the more serious topic... the spirit hesitated once again. I can sense concentrations of Dark Matter around your heart. For a moment or so, there... it caused your heart to stop beating.

What?! Dark Matter...Manny's hand must have left scraps. Sylas' breath pitched as he felt fear flood through him. What else would it do? Would it kill him? Skies above...Sylas forced his eyes to open a bit more, and he saw himself looking at Bermuda. He shifted his hand, wanting some form of comfort, but unable to ask for it. Adarhe...what on earth was going to happen?

Relax, Adahre replied. Minori can clear it, or so I believe. We'll get the message to him, and he can help you.

Bermuda's eye caught the movement of Sylas's hand, and the nereid picked it up with his own, holding it and stroking the back gently with his thumb. "Everything all right?" he asked quietly.

Sylas looked at Bermuda with pain and fear obvious in his eyes. The friendly touch was comforting, but Sylas' mind was in a whirl. 'I've gotta tell him. I have to make sure they know. Minori can't fix it if he doesn't know.' But his thoughts were kept to himself. His mouth refused to obey him. All he managed was a soft moan. What the heck was he supposed to do? How would he tell the others about the Dark Matter? ...Adahre, is there anything you can do? They have to know...

I can talk to Bermuda, just keep holding onto his hand. I need that connection, Adahre said.

Bermuda shifted his gaze up and across the room, sighing. He remained quiet in his own thoughts until he heard a different, familiar voice speak clearly into the back of his mind. His eyes widened slightly as he looked back down at Sylas. "I... I'll get the message to Minori, don't worry," he said. For the time being, Bermuda couldn't stray too far from Adahre and couldn't leave the room, but he knew that L'arc should be back any time now.

Sylas seemed to relax a bit, closing his eyes again. Thank him for me, he suggested to Adahre. Not that it mattered much. Sylas gave even more thanks to Adahre. He had no reason to be afraid. He was in great hands.

"Why are you in here?" Reetah questioned, poking her head in the doorway. L'arc had gotten into a storage closet, still looking for ink. "You shouldn't be in here, L'arc..."

"...You're welcome, Sylas," Bermuda said after a moment's pause, after Adahre relayed the message to him. "I'll stay with you. L'arc'll be back soon, and he can get Minori for you."

L'arc turned around with an expression of a guilty child on his face, startled at Reetah's voice. "I was just... looking around for some ink," he said.

Sylas forced a nod, then started to doze off. He was exhausted.

"It's fine, but you really shouldn't be in here." Reetah moved forward, reaching onto one of the top shelves and finding the ink that L'arc needed. The both of them jumped, however, when a noisy thud and a rattle sounded. Part of the floor opened slightly, a cleverly disguised trapdoor, covered by a rug. The rattle of chains came from inside.

L'arc jumped back, the ink dropping out of his hand and raining pools onto the floor. "Reetah, what... what is that?" he demanded, his hand on Lisben's hilt. "What's down there?"

"It's...it's nothing," Reetah shook her head. "Just a...rat, or something." She moved to push L'arc out of the room, but a voice made her pause.

"Help...me..." A rattled wheeze, and the trapdoor opened slightly; it had something heavy on top of it, and couldn't open all the way. Just enough for a dirty hand to fit through and claw at the floor. From the sound of the voice, it was a child. Just a boy, maybe a little older than Gabe. "Please..."

L'arc threw off Reetah's grip, turning to go back into the room. "What is that, Reetah? Don't lie to me!" he said, throwing a glare over his shoulder at her before turning back to the trapdoor. "Who are you?" he asked.