[ If he could but find the voice and the will to say what would have been on his mind and heart had he still been in control of himself, he would not have hesitated to tell her that she must sleep, no matter what happens to him and no matter what state he is in. But he can do no such thing, as the power of speech has long since left him, and his ability to move of his own accord has mostly departed as well.
But as his awareness returns and as he claws himself free of the dark turn his sleeping thoughts had taken, not all of himself has returned. The small signs of recognition and life that Alkaid had managed to stir up have faded once more, and nothing, not even the color of the ribbon at the end of her braid, catches his eye.
He does not resist nor pull away when she wraps her fingers around his wrists so that she might begin to heal them. But neither does he speak or react to her words or her touch. Oddly enough, the glowing in his eyes does not resume the level of brightness that it had before he fell asleep, but even without that, the look in his eyes still remains blank, as if he no longer registers even the simplest of details of the cell that is still keeping him captive.
His mind cannot quite tell where the Warrior of Light ends and when Alkaid begins, but it is as clear as it can be that she is trying to help, and so he stays still, letting her take hold of his wrists and do as she pleases.
He remains seated with his back still resting against the wall, although his brief period of slumber saw him slump down a little closer to the floor, and he has not been able to straighten back up again on his own.
Similarly, he cannot answer her question, but he certainly did dream, and although the details of it are rapidly fading, even if he could speak of it, it was decidedly not a good dream. ]
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But as his awareness returns and as he claws himself free of the dark turn his sleeping thoughts had taken, not all of himself has returned. The small signs of recognition and life that Alkaid had managed to stir up have faded once more, and nothing, not even the color of the ribbon at the end of her braid, catches his eye.
He does not resist nor pull away when she wraps her fingers around his wrists so that she might begin to heal them. But neither does he speak or react to her words or her touch. Oddly enough, the glowing in his eyes does not resume the level of brightness that it had before he fell asleep, but even without that, the look in his eyes still remains blank, as if he no longer registers even the simplest of details of the cell that is still keeping him captive.
His mind cannot quite tell where the Warrior of Light ends and when Alkaid begins, but it is as clear as it can be that she is trying to help, and so he stays still, letting her take hold of his wrists and do as she pleases.
He remains seated with his back still resting against the wall, although his brief period of slumber saw him slump down a little closer to the floor, and he has not been able to straighten back up again on his own.
Similarly, he cannot answer her question, but he certainly did dream, and although the details of it are rapidly fading, even if he could speak of it, it was decidedly not a good dream. ]