themercyofacrow

[themercyofacrow]

Here is the main character of this web novel. Let me know what you think!

Introductory Scene: Hiero Cagney

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—Hiero abruptly pushed himself off the ground, coughing and spluttering as he hacked out mouthfuls of dust and dirt.

What the—?!

Just a few seconds ago, Hiero had been in that hospital room that had been his home for the past seven years. He was certain that was the case. He had been lying there, listening to the beeping of the machines, breathing in and out, in and out, relaxing as he waited for…

“I’m still here?” he wondered aloud.

His voice sounded odd. Perhaps it was because this was the first time in years that it wasn’t strained. His body felt much lighter, too, and nothing ached anymore, either. That painful, bone-deep ache that had gotten worse and worse and worse was now… He was able to sit up again, without struggling hardly at all.

He was still clad in his baby blue hospital gown, the same kind that he had worn every day for the past seven years. It was all bunched up due to the awkward way in which he sat, but he estimated that it would fall to his knees if he were to stand. It was still far too big for him, as emaciated as he had been — but he wasn’t emaciated now. His hand reached forward to squeeze his thigh, bare and glowing in the light. He could feel fat underneath his grip, and he had to actually put in some effort if he wanted to tell where his femur bone was. He stared down in wonder.

His hand, too, looked different. Hiero flexed his fingers, long and tapered and graceful. His hands had always been rather small, but now they were a healthy kind of small, as opposed to the skeletal shapes that had haunted him for so long that he had forgotten what they had looked like before. And just like his thighs, the skin of his hands glowed in the way that healthy pale skin did, as opposed to the sallow hue that he had been so used to.

Hiero’s head felt heavier, in an odd way. When he reached up a little, he felt a curtain of hair — which was odd, because he knew that he had lost all of his hair a while ago, and yet these locks were long enough for him to easily lift them upwards in front of his face for him to examine. Curly and red, just like it used to be — but he was fairly certain that it hadn’t been THIS curly, or THIS red, right? He stared at the strands in wonder, curling them gently around his finger. They were so bright and beautiful, like — not like woven strands of ruby stones, but like candy apples turned into thread. His hands crawled backwards, feeling the curtain of hair in wonderment. There was just so much of it, falling down his back like a candy-red waterfall. All of this — is mine? All of it — his hair, his skin, his gown — all shimmering here in the sun like the most incredible…!

—Sunlight.

How long had it been, since Hiero had properly seen the sun?

Early on, he had gone outside to the hospital garden every day, as a nice break from the monotonous hues of that dreary room. Those visits had gotten fewer and fewer as his treatments had dragged on, and then it had gotten to the point where he’d had to let his little brother take him outside in a wheelchair, and then during those last few months he had felt too weak to even sit up enough for that. He had missed it, but he had been too tired to miss it more than just a little bit.

But because of that, he suddenly felt as though he had forgotten what it was that he had been missing. Or at least, he had forgotten — until it had fallen into his lap once again like the greatest divine treasure a God could provide.

Hiero giggled, and then he started to laugh in earnest, throwing his head backwards as he cackled aloud to that baby blue sky. He had spent all that time being so scared of what would happen if he died, and this…!

“I didn’t lose at all!” he crowed, laughing loudly. His smile was practically splitting his face open. His cheeks hurt. To feel the sunlight again…! “Hear that, everyone?! I didn’t lose! I didn’t lose one bit!”

His cheek felt wet. Still giggling like a madman, Hiero shakily raised a hand to his cheek.

Ah, he thought. I’m crying.

This was so ridiculous that it sent him into a flurry of cackles all over again, and he let himself fall onto his back. His chest was heaving, his eyes were watery with fat, gloopy tears, his cheeks ached in a manner distinctly different from that dullness he had been used to for so long, and everything was just…!

(Hiero hadn’t been scared in that final hour. He had known, somehow, that it was time, and that it was alright. He had been worried about…)

(But his little brother had assured him that he’d be okay, and Hiero had believed him.)

It was a while, before Hiero had calmed down enough to sit up again. He probably could have forced himself to calm down sooner, but why would he do that when laughing and crying and soaking in the sunlight all felt so good? And even as he sat up, he could feel himself sniffling and giggling and wiping away his residual tears. “Heh…heheh…”

Huh, Hiero thought dimly. Heaven’s a lot dustier than I thought it’d be.

Hiero had never been to a desert before, even before he had gotten sick, but he had seen images of deserts in cartoons that resembled this locale. In fact, this setting seemed almost stereotypical enough for him to start laughing all over again. Dust and dirt, dust and dirt — twigs, tumbleweeds, and nothing but blue, blue sky stretching for miles in every direction. The only thing that perhaps differentiated this place was the sparse collection of withered trees that dotted the field every so often.

It was an amusing sight, but there didn’t seem to be a whole lot to do here.

“Alright!” Hiero clapped his hands together, grinning wide. The noise echoed through the midday silence. He moved to stand up. “Time to— woaah—!”

As it turned out, trying to walk after months of being bedridden was more difficult than he’d thought. The image of himself faceplanting into the dust was so funny that he started laughing all over again, still spitting out dirt.