019

After Ixora had put Zira to bed, she returned to Jerald's room. His breathing remained steady as he lay motionless in the bed, his wound carefully bandaged. She lowered herself beside the bed and simply watched him. Now that he was asleep, she allowed herself to gaze at him, to take in his features.

Should she help him shave his beard? No, she thought better of it. He might be quite angry when he woke up. She took a closer look at his chest, noticing numerous scars marring his skin. How had he come to be a canvas for a weapons field day?

She was so engrossed in studying him that she didn't notice when his breathing changed, becoming heavier and more uneven. It wasn't until he started gasping out words in his sleep that she realized something was wrong.

"No! No, don't go with them! No, please!?" he pleaded, shaking his head violently from side to side.

"Jerald, what's wrong?" Ixora shook him fearfully, but he wouldn't wake.

"What about mother!? She can't lose both of us!? Go! Go! pleas