Jᴜʟɪᴀɴ Bʟᴀᴄᴋᴛʜᴏʀɴ (artistic) wrote in themandalay, |
“Emma.” Julian’s voice sounded off, even to his own ears. The persistent and uncomfortable stiffness in his left arm was still there, but he struggled into a sitting position on the edge of the bed. He had no idea where he was. It wasn't the Council Hall. This room was peaceful, a polar opposite of the room he'd been in a moment ago. He could still hear the shouting, the noise of weapons crashing together - Annabel's shriek when the Mortal Sword shattered. He could still feel the pain of the blow that shattered it, his left arm stiff and numb to the point of being unable to move it, and he hadn't even been holding the weapon that had been responsible. Cortana belonged to Emma, not him. "Where are you?" he asked, pushing the words out through his teeth. Finding his stele was something he wanted to do, but he couldn't hold the phone and search for his stele with a single hand. "Where am I?" |