Waking Up
More from the fantasy-world versions of Desmond and Everett from The Impulsive Rescue. As I said before, these versions of that pair are based on a roleplaying game a friend and I share. The previous fantasy-world story about Desmond and Everett can be found here.
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Everett watched and waited, his stomach churning. His wings trembled -- what if this didn’t work? If Desmond didn’t wake up in his new body, he had no idea what he would do. Ever since his husband had fallen into a magic coma after saving Everett’s life, he had hoped for a miracle while not daring to believe one was possible.
Now, maybe, there would be a miracle. Desmond lay on the bed, still unconscious but no longer wrapped in the magic cocoon that had sustained his body -- it would no longer be needed, if the transfer to a new body had worked. He looked healthy, though he didn’t quite look like himself, not anymore. Desmond had the same brown hair, forest green eyes, somewhat slender build and white skin, but he seemed somehow prettier than before, though Everett thought he was beautiful no matter what he looked like. Gently glowing green wings peeked out from behind Desmond’s back -- they matched his eyes. He hadn’t possessed wings in his old body, having been born an ordinary human.
Wings like that were the mark of a summon -- a type of magical creature created to serve humans. Since it was impossible to transfer Desmond’s soul and consciousness to a human body without murdering someone, they had decided, after much deliberation, to put him in a summon’s body. Everett himself was a summon, with golden wings similar to Desmond’s own green ones.
How would Desmond react to waking up in the body of a summon when he had once been a lord? True, he had given up his lordship when he had fallen in love with Everett, but this was an even greater loss of status, to go from mortal man to magical servant.
Worry so absorbed Everett that he almost didn’t notice when Desmond’s eyes fluttered open. He gasped, not quite believing what he saw. Desmond’s eyes didn’t focus on anything -- they darted around, not truly seeing. Everett froze in place; even his wings stopped moving at all. He held his breath -- his husband’s body lived, but did his soul remain?
Desmond’s eyes locked onto Everett’s own. For the first time since they opened, they saw.
* * *
Desmond’s jaw dropped -- his husband lived. He hadn’t failed in saving him, as he had feared. “You’re alive,” he breathed.
Everett nodded, and there were tears in his beautiful amber eyes, threatening to spill. “I’m -- I’m alive. And -- and so are you,” he said, giving him the tiniest smile. Behind the tears, Desmond thought Everett’s eyes were oddly clouded, as if he were hiding something.
As he lay there, he felt his heart might burst from seeing his beloved alive. A lump formed in his throat as he looked into Everett’s teary eyes. His own filled with tears, and he let the tears fall down his face. Everett began to cry as well, his whole body shaking. Then, he launched himself at Desmond and crushed him with his embrace. Desmond didn’t mind -- he wrapped his arms around Everett and simply held him as they cried together.
Beneath the joy he felt upon being reunited with his husband, there was something else. Desmond’s body didn’t feel right -- he didn’t feel like himself. Even the simple movement of hugging Everett was strange. It was as if his soul wasn’t used to his body, but he had been in this body for years. He thought the strangeness must be from waking up. In truth, it had been a lot easier to wake from unconsciousness than he would have expected.
Everett pulled away, kneeling by his bedside. Desmond sat up -- when he did, something tugged at his back, as if he had wings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something glow forest green. When he looked on his other side, he saw the same fluttering glow.
Those were wings. And they were attached to him -- he could feel them, now.
“Everett, why -- why do I have wings?” he asked, looking right at his husband. Was he perhaps still dreaming? He felt too solid to believe that.
Before Everett could answer him, Desmond pushed himself off the bed and raced over to the long bedroom mirror. His jaw dropped at what he saw. The figure in the mirror resembled him, only more beautiful and with a pair of glowing forest green wings spread out behind it. These wings stretched above the figure’s head and from its sides in graceful, flowing lines. Desmond stared at the figure that was him and wasn’t him.
He was, somehow, a summon.
“It -- it was the only way to save you,” Everett whispered. “Your mortal body could no longer hold you. Not -- not after you expended almost all your life force casting the spell that saved me.”
Desmond turned to look at him, noticing how he stared at the floor as he remained next to the bed. A lump formed in Desmond’s throat, and he didn’t know what to think.
The air quivered with silence, and it became too much for him to bear. “You -- did this for me?” he breathed.
Everett nodded. “It was -- the best we could do. I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry?” Desmond said, kneeling beside his beloved. He put an arm around him, causing him to startle.
“What are you doing?” Everett asked, looking at him with confusion clear on his features. “You’re not -- angry?”
At the moment, Desmond was still too stunned to feel much of anything, but how could he be angry that he was alive?
“I’m not angry,” he said, “though I’m not certain this isn’t all a strange dream.” He leaned his head against Everett’s shoulder.
“It’s not a dream,” Everett murmured.
“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re alive,” Desmond said, pulling his husband closer.
Perhaps, later, he would feel the impact of what had happened and experience emotions besides frozen shock.
For now, however, he was simply happy both he and Everett lived.
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Everett watched and waited, his stomach churning. His wings trembled -- what if this didn’t work? If Desmond didn’t wake up in his new body, he had no idea what he would do. Ever since his husband had fallen into a magic coma after saving Everett’s life, he had hoped for a miracle while not daring to believe one was possible.
Now, maybe, there would be a miracle. Desmond lay on the bed, still unconscious but no longer wrapped in the magic cocoon that had sustained his body -- it would no longer be needed, if the transfer to a new body had worked. He looked healthy, though he didn’t quite look like himself, not anymore. Desmond had the same brown hair, forest green eyes, somewhat slender build and white skin, but he seemed somehow prettier than before, though Everett thought he was beautiful no matter what he looked like. Gently glowing green wings peeked out from behind Desmond’s back -- they matched his eyes. He hadn’t possessed wings in his old body, having been born an ordinary human.
Wings like that were the mark of a summon -- a type of magical creature created to serve humans. Since it was impossible to transfer Desmond’s soul and consciousness to a human body without murdering someone, they had decided, after much deliberation, to put him in a summon’s body. Everett himself was a summon, with golden wings similar to Desmond’s own green ones.
How would Desmond react to waking up in the body of a summon when he had once been a lord? True, he had given up his lordship when he had fallen in love with Everett, but this was an even greater loss of status, to go from mortal man to magical servant.
Worry so absorbed Everett that he almost didn’t notice when Desmond’s eyes fluttered open. He gasped, not quite believing what he saw. Desmond’s eyes didn’t focus on anything -- they darted around, not truly seeing. Everett froze in place; even his wings stopped moving at all. He held his breath -- his husband’s body lived, but did his soul remain?
Desmond’s eyes locked onto Everett’s own. For the first time since they opened, they saw.
* * *
Desmond’s jaw dropped -- his husband lived. He hadn’t failed in saving him, as he had feared. “You’re alive,” he breathed.
Everett nodded, and there were tears in his beautiful amber eyes, threatening to spill. “I’m -- I’m alive. And -- and so are you,” he said, giving him the tiniest smile. Behind the tears, Desmond thought Everett’s eyes were oddly clouded, as if he were hiding something.
As he lay there, he felt his heart might burst from seeing his beloved alive. A lump formed in his throat as he looked into Everett’s teary eyes. His own filled with tears, and he let the tears fall down his face. Everett began to cry as well, his whole body shaking. Then, he launched himself at Desmond and crushed him with his embrace. Desmond didn’t mind -- he wrapped his arms around Everett and simply held him as they cried together.
Beneath the joy he felt upon being reunited with his husband, there was something else. Desmond’s body didn’t feel right -- he didn’t feel like himself. Even the simple movement of hugging Everett was strange. It was as if his soul wasn’t used to his body, but he had been in this body for years. He thought the strangeness must be from waking up. In truth, it had been a lot easier to wake from unconsciousness than he would have expected.
Everett pulled away, kneeling by his bedside. Desmond sat up -- when he did, something tugged at his back, as if he had wings. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something glow forest green. When he looked on his other side, he saw the same fluttering glow.
Those were wings. And they were attached to him -- he could feel them, now.
“Everett, why -- why do I have wings?” he asked, looking right at his husband. Was he perhaps still dreaming? He felt too solid to believe that.
Before Everett could answer him, Desmond pushed himself off the bed and raced over to the long bedroom mirror. His jaw dropped at what he saw. The figure in the mirror resembled him, only more beautiful and with a pair of glowing forest green wings spread out behind it. These wings stretched above the figure’s head and from its sides in graceful, flowing lines. Desmond stared at the figure that was him and wasn’t him.
He was, somehow, a summon.
“It -- it was the only way to save you,” Everett whispered. “Your mortal body could no longer hold you. Not -- not after you expended almost all your life force casting the spell that saved me.”
Desmond turned to look at him, noticing how he stared at the floor as he remained next to the bed. A lump formed in Desmond’s throat, and he didn’t know what to think.
The air quivered with silence, and it became too much for him to bear. “You -- did this for me?” he breathed.
Everett nodded. “It was -- the best we could do. I’m sorry,” he said.
“Sorry?” Desmond said, kneeling beside his beloved. He put an arm around him, causing him to startle.
“What are you doing?” Everett asked, looking at him with confusion clear on his features. “You’re not -- angry?”
At the moment, Desmond was still too stunned to feel much of anything, but how could he be angry that he was alive?
“I’m not angry,” he said, “though I’m not certain this isn’t all a strange dream.” He leaned his head against Everett’s shoulder.
“It’s not a dream,” Everett murmured.
“You don’t know how glad I am that you’re alive,” Desmond said, pulling his husband closer.
Perhaps, later, he would feel the impact of what had happened and experience emotions besides frozen shock.
For now, however, he was simply happy both he and Everett lived.