Zelgadis leaned against his room's windowsill, and stared out at the nighttime sky. The stars were bright tonight, and a crescent moon had risen high in the sky. It cast its silvery light over the sleeping city. So beautiful..., he thought, gazing calmly out at the silver-washed city before him. Peaceful, serene....
Waking himself from his reverie, he pushed himself away from the window. I'd better get to bed, he thought, yawning. It's late, and I have plenty to do tomorrow. Places to go, a cure to find....
While turning towards the ever-so-inviting bed, he carefully avoided looking into the small, cracked mirror hanging against the far wall of his little rented room. No need to be reminded of my hideous appearance, he thought sourly. As if he could ever forget the sight of his monstrous features, gift of his accursed grandfather, Rezo.
As Zelgadis walked across the room towards his bed, a brief spell of dizziness made him almost lose his footing and fall. What the...? Surprised, he steadied himself by gripping onto one of the bedposts. His head kept spinning, however, for a few long seconds after he'd caught himself. My head... it feels strange... And not only his head. Something felt unexplainedly wrong about his whole body.
I'm just tired, that's all, he tried to convince himself. A good night's sleep, and I'll be fine.
He climbed into bed, kicking off his shoes, and gathered the soft sheets around himself. I'll just... get some rest and... No matter how much he wanted to rest, the strange feeling wouldn't go away. As he lay there, it seemed to get even worse. There was an emptiness, a hollowness in the very core of his being, and it was growing... consuming him....
Time passed; Zelgadis couldn't say how much time. All he could do was blink dizzily at the ceiling above him. Minutes; hours; who could tell?
What is...
Disorientation.
What's happening to me...
Faint nausea.
Why...
Confusion. Scattered thoughts. Lack of focus.
Help.... Someone.... Something's wrong.... The words, the cry for help, would not come to his trembling lips.
Must... must get help....
His thoughts were everywhere and nowhere; his body wouldn't obey his scattered mental commands. It was all he could do to slide out of bed, to force himself to stagger across the floor.
One step.
Two.
The door to the hall loomed ever closer. Beyond that door was the possibility of help, was the hope of someone who could make the dizziness, the strangeness, go away. Healing magic.
Someone...
Someone who could make the dizziness go away.
Someone...
He collapsed to the floor, not even noticing the heavy thud as stone flesh hit wooden planks.
Someone... help... me....
His last thoughts were a cry for help. Then the dizziness carried him off, spinning him endlessly into the eternal dark.