drifting to sleep

drifting to sleep
“But my lord” someone called, causing me to turn back. I could fell the tension come back in full force.
I waited, hoping that they would say something. But nothing. “Greyson”
I stood at the door of the council chamber longer than necessary, letting the weight of what I was about to do settle into the stone walls, into their bones. They watched me closely—some with expectation, others with thinly veiled hunger. They always sensed when something was about to shift.
I lifted my gaze to greyson.
He hadn’t expected it. I could see that much in the way his shoulders stiffened when i called to him, in the brief flicker of surprise he failed to mask. Greyson was many things and among them was loyal, sharp, relentless when needed but ambition had never ruled him. That was precisely why I chose him, why i let him be my right hand man. And also the fact that he was an outsider, just like me
“For a few days,” I said, my voice carrying without effort, “command will rest with greyson.”
The words hadn’t even finished echoing before the chamber erupted.
Voices rose at once. outrage, disbelief, hurried arguments colliding over one another. Council members surged to their feet, robes whispering like agitated wings.
“You can’t be serious—”
“This violates protocol—”
“Temporary authority still requires—”
I let them speak.
I let the noise swell, let their fear dress itself up as concern for order. They thought this was about procedure. About rules. None of them yet understood that this was about trust—and about what I was preparing to do.
Then I looked at them.
I didn’t raise my voice. I didn’t move.
I simply rested my eyes on the council.
The riot died instantly.
One by one, mouths closed. Spines straightened. The air thickened, as if the chamber itself had drawn a breath and refused to release it. They remembered—abruptly and painfully—that authority did not live in their numbers or their titles. It lived in me.
“For a few days,” I repeated calmly, “while I am away. You will be Xarion” i said, looking at him
That did it. The realization rippled through them, subtle but unmistakable. Away did not mean rest. It did not mean ceremony.
He stepped forward then, finally finding his voice. “I won’t fail,” he said quietly.
I met his eyes, allowing myself the smallest nod. He didn’t know the full truth, that I was leaving with no certainty of return. but he knew enough. He always did.
“You won’t,” I said. Not reassurance. Fact.
I turned from the council before they could recover enough courage to protest again. My cloak swept behind me as I strode toward the doors, the sound of my footsteps final, unquestionable. As i stepped out, i watched him follow me. Debating whether or not he should say something so i stopped.
“you have questions” i stated, looking him dead in the eyes.
“if i May” he sounded unsure but one thing was clear, he did not stutter. “you chose me.. why? If anything Xarion, i am most unqualified. I don’t fit in and…”
“are you say i am not among then?” i watched as panic flashed through his eyes as he realised. “i would never my lord, i was just..”
“it is fine” i cut him off, starting to get agitated. I had been gone from Mika for too long at this point. “just…” i took in a deep breath to try and calm myself. “lead them well. They rest are blinded by greed you know” he nodded, knowing exactly what i was talking about. “Valarrak WILL come for the throne. You better die than let that happen” he nodded, detailing every word like his life depended on it, and honestly? It did. His and millions of lives if he dared to let Valarrak win.
“it would be an honor to hold in your stead.” i nodded, watching him leave before i moved along
There was only one more thing to do.
The healers’ wing was steeped in antibiotics and chemicals that made my stomach churn but i swallowed. Doctors straightened the moment I entered, tension snapping through them like a pulled wire. They had been waiting. They always were.
“It’s time,” I told him.
No explanations. No softness.
He exchanged glances with the others, then moved. It felt practiced and grim. Like he had done it a million times before. I remained standing as they prepared, knowing exactly what this would cost me, and choosing it anyway.
What I was about to give up could not.
“two weeks if you are careful and five days if your body can’t handle the stress. That is how long you would be able to live with part of your heart out” he was not trying to convince to change my mind this time, he just running through proceedures.
I let him.
Nodding my head at him over and over, showing him that i understood what he was saying.
“this way” he said. I noticed his hands slightly tremble but i said nothing. He led me into a room that was uncomfortably bright. I had no time to question it as i was on the table before i could over think it. Time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time if it made any sense.
The table beneath me was cold despite the heat lamps hovering above, and the air smelled of metal, herbs, and something sharp that clung to the back of my throat.
This was real.
There would be no blade to dodge here. No enemy to overpower.
Only surrender.
“Steady,” one of the doctors murmured as they positioned instruments around me. Their voices were calm, practiced, but I heard the strain beneath it. They knew who I was. They knew what they were about to take.
My heart.
For Mika.
I fixed my gaze on the ceiling, tracing invisible cracks in the stone to keep my breathing even. I had made this choice long before I walked into this room. I had weighed it, accepted it, prepared myself for it.
So why did my chest feel like it was closing in?
Leather straps were secured over my arms. not to restrain me, they’d said, but to keep my body still once the medicine took hold. The irony wasn’t lost on me. I had never been bound by anyone before.
“Count with me,” a voice said. “Just to keep you grounded.”
Grounded.
As if I weren’t about to leave everything behind.
“One,” I began, my voice steady.
Two.
Three.
The images came unbidden then. Mika’s eyes when she laughed, sharp and bright despite everything she’d endured. She did not laugh to often. I have to make it up to her’ i thought, drifting off to sleep…