So I hope you guys like this chapter. Been down with a little cold our brother brought in on us, so I haven't been feeling like writing, but I threw this together last night. If it's totally horrible let me know and I'll rewrite it next week. Sorry if it seems pieced together or rushed. Feedback and criticism are asked for and welcome!
Bear the FLame
Kayti
Forsythe sat by Kyter’s bed, waiting for his friend to wake up. Princess Luciana had said he was awake for a short time yesterday, and if Kyter woke up again, Forsythe didn’t want to miss him. He had anxiously waited for so long for his friend to wake up, and to have missed him yesterday was horrible.
Forsythe glanced over at Lord Blackstar, who sat on the other side of the bed. He knew Lord Blackstar felt the same way. Lord Blackstar had spoken little since returning from the mine with Kyter. It was like someone had ripped away part of the buck. Like they had suddenly stripped him of everything, and Forsythe felt like he could see the true rabbit for the first time. He had always thought of Lord Blackstar as a hero, an indestructible being, a stern buck who must be listened to, a noble leader who could never be defeated. But now he saw a worried, tired buck, a rabbit who like everyone else had limits both physical and mental. For the first time, Forsythe saw that Lord Blackstar had fears, and it seemed one of his deepest fears was losing the ones he loved.
Lord Blackstar looked up, and they locked eyes. Forsythe smiled at him, and Lord Blackstar tried to smile back and failed. Forsythe took a deep breath and looked to Kyter. His longtime friend. The doctor had said Kyter should be fine, as far as living went. His leg had set nicely, and the other cuts and gashes would heal with time. The only thing that had worried the doctor was Kyter’s left hand, which was mangled and crushed beyond repair. The doctor had done what he could but said he feared Kyter would never be able to use it again.
Forsythe looked down at his hands, wondering why it had to be Kyter who had been trapped in the mine. Why not him? Why did things work out like they did? It was a puzzling question to him. One he wanted to answer but didn’t know how to.
He looked toward the bed as he heard the covers rustle. Kyter’s eyes were open and gazing at Lord Blackstar. Forsythe smiled and stood as the father and son embraced. He paused at the doorway, then turned and left. The moment was too tender; it was a moment for only father and son.
The weeks passed, and slowly, but surely Kyter got better. It was a while before Kyter was on his feet as his bad hand made it hard for him to use crutches. But eventually, everything went back to a sort of normal. Though Forsythe knew it would never be truly normal again.
Lord Blackstar had ordered that all the support beams in the mine be reembraced and redone every two months to prevent future problems. Kay Jack was doing better, but his foot, which had been injured in the accident, caused him to walk with a limp, which would always be a reminder. Kyter had his mangled hand, a scar across his head, and the slight limp in his step as reminders. And Forsythe, well, he carried his scars on the inside where no one could see.
He often dreamed about that horrible day, and often he felt as though he could never shake the fear that gripped his heart at the faintest thud. He had heard his parents talking and saying that Kyter often woke up screaming and crying in the night. It seemed that Lord Blackstar had asked his father, Gavin if there was anything that could help. Forsythe knew there was not, for his father still would sometimes wake up wheezing out the words, “Terrors, terrors, terrors, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming, coming …” And his father would repeat them. Soon mother would calm him down, and Forsythe had gotten used to the idea that this was just something his father did. But to think of Kyter waking up; in the same way, made his heart sad. Kyter was so young to be troubled by these night terrors.
Today Forsythe was sitting by Kyter’s bed drawing as Kyter talked to Princess Luciana; the two of them got along quite well. Forsythe smiled as he heard Kyter telling a joke. Maybe things wouldn’t be so different.
“What are you working on Forsythe?” Luciana asked.
Forsythe looked up, startled. “I…um…I was…”
“He’s drawing lines,” Kyter said, nodding as he added, “He calls them maps, but they don’t make much sense to me.”
“Can I see please; I’ve looked at lots of maps with Lander and father. I like maps, especially that the cartographers bring in, you know, the ones that show all the new places they found. Those are the best maps. I just like to try and picture what the place would look like if I really got to go there. Sorry, rambling again. So, can I see it?”
Forsythe looked down at his map, hesitated then handed it to Luciana. “It's not the best, but I think it works well enough,” he said as Luciana’s eyes roved over the page.
“It’s…It’s beautiful, it looks just like Ayman lake. There’s Dobble’s Point and Seddleton, and here’s Kingston, and the High Bleaks. Oh, it's so real feeling…” Luciana gazed at the map for a long moment more before handing it back to him and saying, “You should show my father, he would be impressed. That is as fine as any map we get from the scouts. You have a gift.” She smiled at him.
Forsythe looked down and started working on his map again.
“He has gotten better, that’s for sure,” Kyter said, his voice sounding as if he couldn’t believe what he had just seen.
Forsythe smiled and shuffled his papers. A sketch fell out, landing on the floor. He reached down to get it, but Luciana grabbed it first.
“Is this another map?” She asked, then she turned it over and gasped.
Kyter looked up then, and Forsythe snatched the paper away. Then he looked at both of them, wondering what their reactions would be.
“Was that…” Kyter started to say, his face a mixture of awe and sadness.
Forsythe swallowed hard as he said, “It’s what I saw when I came into the mine to help get you out. I didn’t get to finish the sketch; because…well, because I couldn’t.” Forsythe looked down.
“It was so full of emotion,” Luciana said, placing a hand to her heart.
Forsythe shrugged and gathered his stuff, not wanting to stay in the room anymore. It felt different; the sketch had changed the mood of the room. He was about to leave when he heard Kyter say his name. He turned, and Kyter looked him in the eye as he said, “That was a good picture Forsythe, I’m glad you drew it.”
Forsythe then hurried out of the room. He didn’t know what to feel right now. Hurt, inspired, worried, discouraged, encouraged. What, what should he feel? All those emotions were whirling inside of him, but there was not a single one to hold onto. So, they swirled inside him as he hurried home to finish the sketch he had begun weeks before.
I LOVE Forsythe so much!!!! Btw, do you guys pronounce it For-saith, or For-sith?
How is your cold, Kayti?