[BL] Accidentally Becoming the Healer of the Deranged Archduke
Chapter 78: A Long Sleep

Chapter 78: A Long Sleep

The long eyelashes quivered as they slowly fluttered open, revealing dazed blue eyes.

A dull ache throbbed at the back of Xion’s head, and his body felt strangely heavy as if he had been asleep for ages. The lingering traces of a dream slipped from his grasp like water through his fingers.

He frowned. What was it? He had seen something... someone... but the details eluded him. Nevertheless, one thing remained. The vivid warmth he felt seemed to linger in his heart.

The scent of aged wood and melted candle wax filled his nose as he blinked away the haze clouding his mind.

The ceiling above him was cracked, its once-white paint peeling away to reveal the bare structure underneath.

The window frames were empty, void of glass, allowing the breeze and dust to float lazily in the dim morning light.

Where am I?

Slowly, Xion pushed himself off the big stone slab surrounded by candles and a few fruits. He noticed he was sleeping on the altar. It felt as if he were being sacrificed to the goddess.

His fingers curled against the cold surface beneath him. It was then that his eyes landed on the lone statue standing before him. He had to tilt his head slightly to take in the proper look.

It was a woman draped in a long, flowing gown. Her face was hidden beneath a delicate veil. Her long hair cascaded down to her knees, a few strands curling over her shoulders.

Though her features were obscured, an inexplicable warmth spread through Xion’s chest as he looked at her.

He liked her. He, who had spent the majority of his life hating gods, found himself at ease in the presence of Goddess Myrthia. How bizarre...

It was an instant feeling, an odd familiarity that settled in his bones. He had seen her before. He was sure of it. But just like the dream he had moments ago, the memory remained frustratingly out of reach.

His gaze shifted downward, taking in the rectangular empty hall around him. The church was small. It was barely large enough to fit a handful of devotees.

Five wooden benches lined the stone floor, aged and worn from time, yet sturdy. A few candles flickered weakly before the goddess and at the altar, casting long shadows on the walls. There was nothing particularly grand about the building itself.

Who left me here? He had no recollection of coming to this place.

Was it Rael?

Rael! Noxian!

Xion’s eyes darted around, frantically searching for the familiar little figures of the two children he had last seen before... before what? His head throbbed as he tried to recall.

Ah, it was Ferni. And then those people attacked them before he fell asleep. It was strange he did not wake up gasping from nightmares like he would usually do.

Much to his surprise, there was no one. The small church was empty.

His gaze fell back on the statue, and once again, a strange sensation bubbled up inside him. A memory. Or perhaps, just a feeling.

The veil... the flowing gown... Then, like a piece of the puzzle falling into place, it became recognizable.

The woman who kidnapped me... wasn’t she dressed like this too?

Shit! Did I get kidnapped again?!

Xion thought in a frenzy. In his hasty actions to get up, he knocked the bowl filled with water to the ground.

Crash!

The bowl shattered against the stone floor. The sound echoed through the empty church like thunder. It was too loud. Too sharp.

It made his head spin, and instinctively, he clamped his hands over his ears.

"Brother! You are awake!"

A small figure rushed toward him. His feet pattered against the floor in hurried steps.

It was Noxian.

The boy ran to Xion. His small hands reached out as he looked at him with wide, worried eyes. "How are you feeling?"

Xion swallowed hard, realizing just how dry his throat was. It felt like sandpaper, raw and parched, as if he hadn’t had a drink in days. His voice, when it finally came out, was hoarse and cracked.

"Fine... Why are we here?"

Noxian hesitated. His lips pursed before he whispered, "To cure you." His grip on Xion’s arm tightened. "They put you under a spell, Brother! His Grace burn-" Noxian halted before abruptly changing his words, "He saved us and then brought you to the holy church."

He lowered his voice as if he were sharing a secret. "You have been sleeping for the past four days, Brother. We all were worried... His Grace too."

Noxian shuddered as he recalled the rage in those green eyes.

As they reached the next city, the sun was already down.

Darius had kidnapped the priest in the middle of the night and brought him here so he could treat the Veil of Reminiscence.

Only the highest-ranking members of the Holy Order or the handful of the elite scholars of the Magic Tower knew about the spell.

But his brother did not need to know that. He silently held Xion close to him. He had missed the head pats for so many days.

Xion’s brows furrowed as he took in the boy’s hesitant words. He had been asleep so long.

No wonder his joints felt like rusted metal. Xion moved with the help of Noxian. He stood up from the big altar where a few burning candles were about to die and sat on the old dusty bench.

Xion coughed when he tried to speak. When little Noxian offered him a glass of water, he realized his hands were shaking.

Even if he wanted to, his fingers lacked the strength to lift the glass.

"Here, let me help," The sweet child was about to assist Xion.

The heavy wooden doors creaked open. Noxian stiffened like a cat whose tail had been stepped on. His head whipped toward the entrance. Then, without another word, he sprang to his feet.

"I will see you later, Brother!"

And with that, he bolted, disappearing out the back door before Xion could even ask what was going on.

He didn’t need to look behind him to know who had entered.

"Rael?" Xion whispered hoarsely. Of course, it was His Grace who scared his poor baby. A faint, amused smile tugged at Xion’s lips as he shook his head.

Footsteps echoed across the stone floor before a familiar figure settled onto the bench opposite him.

Darius’s sharp gaze swept over Xion, taking in his pale complexion. His skin, once lively, now looked sickly and drained of color. Even his lips were not red like before. They looked chapped, dry and dead.

It irked him.

Without any further due Darius took the glass from Xion’s hands and brought it to his lips. If anyone saw the archduke personally helping someone drink water, their jaws might have fallen to the ground.

Xion did not notice the obscure gaze on him. Like a thirsty person in the desert who finally met the oasis, he gulped the water down his throat. It was sweet.

Honey. Xion noticed it now. The water was warm and sugary. The sweetness lingered on his tongue and slowly spread to his entire body.

"Thank you."

A small smile. A simple word of gratitude.

And just like that, the tension in Darius’ stiff shoulders melted away.