A Cold and Heartless Lullaby -Chapter 25-

The wind howled, blustering through midnight streets with snow and cold in tow. With the scattered scraps of scribbled lyrics and crumpled papers on Graham’s desk, it looked like the storm had blown in through the window. Graham shivered. The only source of light was orange string-bead lights that dangled above his desk. It felt like they were the only source of light in the entire city. Graham glanced out the window, searching the windswept streets for any kind of inspiration, but his mind was distracted. 

Behind him the door to his studio was wide open, a rare occasion. It was never open when he composed. That night, however, he had an ear tuned, just in case he heard coughing. Kia’s attack could start up again at any moment. 

Graham tossed his pen across the desk and leaned back in his chair. He closed his eyes and relaxed, trying to comb empty thoughts from his mind. He inhaled deeply and breathed out slowly, searching for clarity. Outside, the wind howled, and a cough sounded down the hall. 

Rot.

By the time Graham had reached her room, Kia’s cough had turned into a fit. She sat up in bed, wheezing and gasping for air. The artificial lung was in the corner, and Graham fumbled with the straps before rolling it over. Kia latched desperately onto the mask. He cupped the back of her head as the bag inflated and deflated, helping pump air into her lungs. The coughing didn’t lessen. It was the worst attack in weeks. The lung wasn’t enough.

Graham tossed back her covers and scooped her up in his arms, dragging the lung behind as he hustled to the door. He threw on his jacket, wrapped Kia’s tightly around her, and without looking back, he pushed out into the storm. 

Cold wind whistled across the cobbles. Snow swirled, and pale blue waylight mingled in near-lifeless streets. A trett rattled by, and Graham waved it down, jumping in the back seat as it stopped.

“Get me to the cathedral! It’s an emergency!”

…

Reverant footsteps echoed high into the arched ceiling of the spacious corridor, accompanied only by the faint coughs and groans of other patients. Kia lay in a small infirmary cot, a full-sized ventilator strapped over her face. Graham watched her chest rise and fall softly. Kia’s bed was one of many, separated in rows by red curtains.

“If you had brought her even a moment later, Graham, she might not have made it,” an elderly doctor explained, 

“The attacks just keep happening,” Graham said, running his fingers through his hair. He sat in a flimsy chair next to the bed. “It used to be months between them, now it’s weeks! How long until it’s days? I can’t keep doing this!”

The doctor clutched his clipboard nervously. “Graham, if she has another attack like this, it could kill her.”

“So… what?” Graham stood. “Am I just supposed to sit here and hope it never happens?”

“It is inevitable, I’m afraid.”

“So she’s good as dead then? You’re saying you failed to heal my daughter.”

“No, no!” the doctor cried. “We must not think like that. We just need to find another way!” His eyes went distant for a moment. “There is… one thing we could try.”

Graham plopped down in his seat again. “What is it?”

“Time heals all wounds, Graham. All we have to do is keep the attacks from happening for long enough.”

“What?” Graham snarked. “We just wait until she’s better?”

“There is an experimental technology. We could put her into prolonged stasis. Her cell’s aging would slow to nearly a halt. From there, only her inheritance can save her.”

“Inheritance? You want to trust my daughter’s life on some blackened Inheritor nonsense?”

“Inheritance is very real, Graham. It’s Sol’s mark on us, how we differ from the rest of creation! It’s how we adapt and change to our surroundings. It’s how the Tryll learned to breathe underwater thousands of years ago. If her lungs are dysfunctional, then her body must adapt.”

“What? you want her to grow gills or something?” 

“No, no. She must evolve to live without the need for her lungs.”

“Is that even possible?” 

“We cannot base what is possible on our own limited understanding of creation. Sol willing, anything is possible. And it’s not just scripture, Graham. There is science behind it. ” 

Graham let out a sigh. “What does this process look like?” 

“We will keep her in a modified stasis pod here in the cathedral,” the doctor explained. “She will be in a coma, so she won’t remember any of it. Then all we do is keep the pod running until her inheritance heals her.”

“How long will it take?” 

“Well, it all really depends. There are many factors at play that could-” 

“HOW LONG WILL IT TAKE?” Graham repeated. The doctor pushed up his glasses. 

“It really is impossible to know, but if I were to guess… I would say anywhere from one year to a thousand, maybe more.” 

“A THOUSAND?” 

“Please, sir, keep it down, you’re disturbing our patients.” 

“Disturbing your patients? I’m losing my patience! Did you or did you not just say one thousand years?”

The doctor nodded. “Or more… Listen, Graham, it may be the only way.”

Graham put his head in his hands, “Blackened Rot,”

Graham looked up again, glancing at his daughter.

“It’s really my only choice?” he said.

“I’m afraid so. But who knows, she might wake up in a year, Sol willing.”

In a way, this was what he always wanted. He could get away from her. He could take his life back and live free again without having to worry about her and watch her every day. Maybe it was meant to be. Jaylen would have been heartbroken. Graham put his hand on Kia’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. Somewhere inside of him, he expected to feel that same heartbreak or, at the very least, some kind of release. But he felt neither. He only felt empty.

“Let’s get it over with,” he said.