“Your father is in the hospital. We have to go. Now!” she said anxiously.
“What?!” My mind went blank, and my body’s complaints were all but forgotten.
Soreness and exhaustion lost their meaning as I jumped up. “Is Dad fine?”
“I... t-the man on the phone said that he would survive... p-probably.”
Probably? My mother was shaking, but so was I.
The worst possibilities formed in my head, and I failed to contain them. They got worse as images of my father flashed through my mind and fear gripped my heart.
“Let’s go!”
***
I barely remembered rushing to the hospital. My body wanted to fail me—but not this time. This time, I had more important things to take care of. My physical well-being was of no importance. My father’s life, however, was.
We ran past doctors and moved around nurses who were carrying Healtor Pythons, Moas Rabbits, and other beasts I recognized as Soulkin with healing attributes. We reached Father’s room after what felt like an eternity. The door to his room was already wide open, and my mother dashed inside, sobs resounding the moment she entered.
I couldn’t keep up with her and was desperately gasping for air when I reached the door. My lungs felt like they were on fire, and my throat tightened, making it increasingly difficult to draw breaths. But I did not collapse, even as my body screamed at me, cursing me for abusing it.
“Mathias! What happened to you, dear?” Mother squealed, crying bitterly as she reached the sick bed.
A doctor stood before the bed, glistening light emitting from his hands, engulfing the bed.
“You must be his family,” the doctor concluded calmly as he turned to my mother. He regarded her from head to toe and turned to me after a moment. I wasn’t sure what to expect from the doctor, but it was definitely not to see a glimpse of disdain in his eyes.
“I’ve stabilized his condition for the time being. If you wish to provide him with more advanced treatment, you will have to fill out some forms with one of the nurses. But I recommend basic treatment for... Mr. Mathias Savier.”
Why does it feel like he was going to say ‘for the likes of you’? I scowled and drew a few more deep breaths. My lungs were still burning, and there was no use in getting angry at the doc. It wasn’t like others hadn’t looked at us like that before.
“Thank you! Thank you very much!” Mother turned to the doctor, tears streaking down her face, flooding him with words of gratitude and blessings of great fortune.
I stepped through the room, weaved around them, and reached my father. My hair stood on end, and I shuddered involuntarily as I looked at the bloody mess before me. Bandages drenched in dark blood covered my father’s upper body. I had never seen this much blood, and it all belonged to him.
My eyes darted to a small bag that contained his clothes, torn—were those claw marks?—and dirty.
“What did you do, Dad?” I muttered, reaching for his hand.
“We do not know what happened. However, the man who brought him in said that he found Mr. Savier outside the dome.”
Mother gasped and jerked toward Mathias. “Did you do something stupid again, honey?”
My heart sank further. “Did he go out as a porter again? But he...”
The last time Father left the dome to work as a porter for a group of Blessed, he was scammed, made fun of, and toyed with. And injured.
I wanted to ask why he did that, but I knew better. My eyes lingered on Father, and I tuned out my mother and the doctor as they continued to talk farther from the sickbed. Mathias stirred, and his eyes fluttered open.
“He’s—...”
I stopped mid-track as a rough, trembling hand held onto mine.
“Dad... I need to inform the doctor!”
However, my father shook his head, a grim smile blooming on his exhausted, blood-drained face. His lips parted, and he mouthed something, but I had to lean closer to understand what he was saying.
“A-Adam... my p-pocket...” he voiced weakly before his head slumped back onto the cushion.
“Pocket?” I looked quizzically at him, but Father only nodded, which seemed to cost him a tremendous amount of energy—energy he needed to recover.
Uncertain what he wanted me to do, I walked around the sick bed, which seemed to be the right call. My father’s eyes glimmered and shifted toward the bag with his belongings. Still unsure of what I was searching for, I reached inside and began to feel around. To my surprise, it didn’t take long before my fingers closed around something small and rough, hidden in one of the pockets.
Retrieving it, my eyes landed on a clump of mud the size of his thumb. No—it was harder than mud. Was it a gemstone clad in mud that got my father excited?
But before I could ask anyone, something deep within me moved. I froze and focused on the sensation.
My World... is stirring. I realized, my eyes flicking back to the object resting in my hands.
It was not a clump of mud.
It was an egg.