*~* This is A Knight and a Day, Revised and Revamped! *~*
A bedtime story come to life and gone horribly wrong.
Day realized she was cold, sitting alone on the hill in the field. But she felt it only in the way one feels cold when they think about the North Pole, as if trying to imagine what that must feel like, though you can't really know for sure until you've experienced it for yourself.
Surga had, in her short-spoken way, explained that her senses would be altered or dulled for as long as her body took to recover. A result of the Shadow Sickness. It's effects are very near that of some poisons, she had gone on to elaborate briskly. For that's essentially what the sickness was: a poison fueled by dark magic. Ruzan's dark magic, to be specific, carrying out his will through dark puppets.
Day couldn't help feeling bitter. She couldn't help feeling a lot of things, emotions that she was largely unaccustomed to, and was surprised to recognize. Rage, hatred, indignation, fury. The list was constantly growing, and now even included despair and grief. To what each emotion was directed, she wasn't entirely sure. One thing she did know, however, was that the intensity of these sensations frightened her. But then she hated herself for feeling afraid.
She wanted to push rewind, to go back to when everything was better and shadows only lurked and spied in her nightmares. Now, she feared her life had turned into a nightmare she wouldn't be able to wake from.
Day put her head in her hands, wondering how all of this had even happened. What did it mean that she suddenly found herself in a bedtime story her mother used to tell her at night? And, now that she's had a glimpse of the horror of this reality, how could a story like this ever have been a favorite of hers?