Hello everyone! I just wanted to start off by saying that this book is part of a series. I highly recommend going to my profile and reading Xelqua Rising, the first book in the series, so you don't find yourself lost. 

With that said, please sit back, relax, and enjoy the book!

✧✰✧

Shooting pain was the first thing he felt. He could almost see the marks on his body despite his eyes remaining closed since the pain was so intense. In that fuzzy moment between consciousness and unconsciousness, he couldn't remember where this pain had come from, where he was and even to an extent, who he was.

It was all he could do to let out a groan, his eyes twitching before they opened ever so slightly.

"Oh!" Someone called. Their voice seemed far away, as if this was a dream. They approached him, getting into his vision. The person was nothing but a blur made mostly of black hair. "You're awake!"

"W...where...?" He whispered, his throat burning as he manipulated his vocal cords. He tried to focus his eyes, and it took a minute before his vision cleared up. The person in front of him was a regular human player with short hair, a mustache and matching back eyes. He was a young one, probably younger than twenty five.

"Ah!" The human exclaimed. "Hold on, you must be thirsty. Let me get you some water." And with that, the suited man scurried out of the room, leaving him alone.

The room grew into silence with exception to the soft hum of redstone machines and his occasional groans. He couldn't help it; any time he shifted even a little, he cried out in pain. He simply could not even sit up.

Finally, he let himself rest, knitting back his memories. Yes, his name was Xelqua. No... Grian. He was a human turned into a Watcher. He had spent a long time with them before he woke up to his senses, realizing their hypocrisy, callousness and need for control. All it had taken was the death of his one and only friend...

Xelqua, they called him. Before then, Grian.

Even in his fuzzy state of mind, the simple thought of them made his blood boil. He didn't really remember leaving, but evidently he had.

It was a few moments later when the human returned with a tray. A bowl was placed in the center, whisps of steam swirling up from it. Also on the tray of water was the promised glass of water. The man set it down on the bed stand before taking a seat on the chair beside it. "Are you able to sit up?" He asked, looking from the tray to the injured person.

Xelqua, or now Grian he supposed, took this as a cue to try and sit up again. He struggled, trying to use his arms to push up. His entire body screamed back at him, and he couldn't help but impulsively let out a sob, tears welling up in his eyes.

The stranger's eyes grew wide in concern. "Woah! Woah! Careful!" He called out, grabbing Grian's torso in a way that would hurt him the least amount possible. "Here, let me help you..." with that, he used his strength to pull Grian up, placing a pillow behind his back to help him sit upright. The pained one still made sounds in his discomfort, but at least he wasn't fully crying out this way.

"Are you hungry? I figured it's been at least a few days since you've eaten; you must be hungry as well." The man said again after a few moments of silence.

Xel stared at the ready made food, feeling his stomach painfully growl at the mere thought. It hadn't been a few days. Rather, it had been years. He didn't tell the man that though. "Y...yeah..." he admitted, in too much pain to even nod.

The man took the spoon and carefully took out a scoop of the soup. "Here, open your mouth so I can feed you." He instructed, lifting up the spoon to offer it. Grian hesitated before he obeyed, being rewarded a few moments later with a warm, rich and creamy taste of mushrooms. It was a taste that seemed so familiar, yet so far away. He suspected that he had this dish before many times, but after so many years, he had forgotten its taste until this moment. It had been like a locked memory, finally freed for after such a time.

The mustachioed man's eyes widened and he yanked the spoon away, clutching it to his chest. The action caught the tired Grian off guard, but what he said next surprised him even more: "Do you really not like it that much?"

At first, the statement confused Grian but as the tear slid off his chin onto his lap, he realized that he had been crying. He tried to lift his arm to quickly wipe them away, but he found he didn't have the strength. He watched as the man placed the spoon aside, the action showing that he was done with the soup.

He was still crying, unable to stop despite not knowing why he was in the first place. "I.... No... please give me... more..." he requested, pain shooting through him, causing him to fight for the words. It was well worth it though if he even got a chance to get even a tenth of a spoonful of the mushroomy glory.

The man's features smoothed over, a smile breaking through his worried expression. "Well alright then... if you say so." He replied with a chuckle, spooning the meal once more before feeding it to Grian again as tears freely spilled down his cheeks.

After a few minutes or so of feeding in silence, the man spoke again, chuckling. The sound was one that Grian had nearly forgotten could be made by someone other than him. Unlike his laugh, this one rang like a chorus of bells, a wonderful sound that carried throughout the otherwise quiet room. "That's right... I should probably introduce myself. I am be such a spoon sometimes... You can call me Mumbo, or Jumbo. Or Mumbo Jumbo, that's what most of my friends call me." He explained, taking away the now empty utensil once again.

This man had multiple names? Was that what he was saying? Through Grian's tiredness, which pushed on him like a heavy blanket, clouding his thoughts, he wasn't sure.

Regardless of his confused thoughts, Jumbo, or Mumbo or Spoon or whatever combination of name he had just said, kept talking. "Say... do you remember your name?" He asked, speaking a bit quieter now. His thumb played with the spoon almost nervously, awaiting an answer.

Grian blinked a few times. He had just thought of it a few moments ago. It took him a few moments more to retrieve it again. "G...Grian?" He guessed, suddenly feeling unsure. It felt almost unfamiliar on his tongue, so maybe he was wrong.

It was only after it had left his lips that he realized that maybe he should come up with a fake name, in case this man was somehow working with them (them who? He had forgotten already, but he knew he needed to be away from them), or... something. His scattered brain couldn't come up with other ideas beyond that, but his gut said his move hadn't been a safe one.

Regardless if it had been a mistake or not, it made Jumbo Spoon's eyes lit up, the smile on his face pushing up his bushy stashe. "Grian." He repeated, his voice warm and caring. Such a tone gave Grian a strange but good feeling in his chest. "What a lovely name you have. It kinda reminds me of grass and rain, like the weather or something." The man paused, his fingers no longer caressing the spoon as his eyes widened. "Was— was that an insult? I— didn't mean it as an insult! Oh gods, I insulted him!"

The sudden change in tone was enough for Grian to chuckle, even if he didn't really understand what he had said. Whoever this was, he seemed like a big of an odd character. For a moment it felt good to laugh, but in the next he seized up, the sensation of his moving belly really a packing a punch into his frail and injured body. He gasped, trying to do away with the feeling, regret immediately filling him. He really shouldn't have laughed after all, even though it hadn't really been a conscious decision. His frame jerked with coughs, as if his body thought that would make things better for him somehow.

"Oh no!" Mumbo Jumbo cried, springing into action. He raced to move the tray from his lap. He then place a hand on Grian's shoulder, wrapping his other arm around his back to help keep him upright during the coughing fit. One after another came, each one like a punch to the gut and rippling throughout his body. The man held onto him through it all, moving to close the gap between them and lean the coughing ex-Watcher against his chest.

The man began muttering something under his breath, what it was Grian couldn't tell and really didn't care to try and figure out since he was focused on not dying. Whatever it was, he was saying in a quick, almost breathless way.

The two were there for a good minute, no sound around except for the muttering, the coughing and the redstone machines far in the distance. At long last though, Grian's coughs grew scarce before disappearing entirely, leaving him to pant instead. With each breath, dark spots appeared in his vision, and with each exhale, they mostly disappeared. All the excitement had drained him, and now more than ever his mind was foggy.

He didn't know where he was. He didn't know who this man was. He didn't know who he himself was. The only word that came to him mind, over and over, seared into his brain was 'pain.' Even that flickered in and out of existence.

The man moved his mouth, forming syllables and words Grian could not decipher in his scrambled state. He felt the man's hands move him down onto the bed, then readjusted the pillow so it would lie more comfortably under his head.

It was only a matter of seconds before his eyes flickered closed and he lost consciousness once more, as if he had never been awake at all.