On Being a New Wizard in Arcadia--Part XIII

    Saturday night's snowfall turned into a proper blizzard in the early hours of the morning Sunday. The sudden screaming howl of wind outside of the window jerked Christian out of a dead sleep. He sat bolt upright in bed, confused by the noise and the deepening chill. Beside him, Sebastian stirred and made a distraught sound.

    "You're letting all the warm out. Lay back down," he mumbled sleepily. Christian smoothed his ruffled blond hair and slid out from under the covers. He shivered as the cold air nipped his bare skin, and groped for his bathrobe and slippers. It seemed unnaturally dark in the room. Only half-recognizing that he was even making the effort, Christian focused on creating a small globe of light in his hand. It blazed like a tiny bluish sun between his outstretched fingers, but it did serve the purpose. The shadows retreated as he walked to the window and twitched aside the edge of the blinds, to get a better look outside.

    There did not seem anything untoward in the blowing snow, nor in the howl of the wind. Ah, but he was still warded. Christian searched his sleep-addled mind, trying to remember how to unmake a ward. Pleased, he recalled the rune-like symbol of undoing and made it in the condensation on the window. He felt a small pop, like the not-unpleasant cracking of a joint, and glanced at Sebastian. Subtle because of sleep, Sebastian's soft  blue aura flickered as he dreamed. Satisfied, Christian looked out the window again.

    He was almost disappointed that there wasn't some demon-like visage apparent in the swirling whiteness, nor any unholy voices chanting some hellish dirge as they made a move into this world. He stared for several minutes until he was satisfied that there really was nothing to be seen, then turned back to the bedroom. He was rather enjoying the quality of light that the magefire emitted. It was such a clean light, and it threw Sebastian's features into sharp relief. Christian was contemplating goading his lover into wakefulness when he heard a solid thud in the hallway. This noise was not one of the normal ones, even for Saturday night. Hastily, Christian let go of the magefire and hurried into the hall.

    There must have been a power outage. The emergency lights cast their harsh orange glow up and down the halls. It certainly explained why his room was getting cold. Christian glanced up and down the hallway, trying to determine from which direction the thump had come. He decided to go get Scott, and let him know what he had heard. Swiftly and quietly, he raced down the hall to the Resident Advisor's room. As he approached, he realized that the door was ajar. Foreboding filled him.

    "Scott?" he called as he slowly pushed the door open. Something caught it, arresting its progress. "Scott, it's Christian. Are you okay? The power's out." He slid into the room, feeling along the floor to see what had stopped it. His fingers brushed against ice-cold skin. "Oh Jesus, Scott?" He risked magefire again, afraid of what he was going to find. Scott lay curled on the floor, bloodless in the bright bluish light. His eyes were  half-shut, and rolled back in his head. Christian dropped the flow and grabbed Scott, dragging him into the lurid light of the hall. "SCOTT!" He dropped his head to Scott's thin chest. He could hear nothing. No heartbeat, no breath, horrid echoing nothing. "Scotty, please, wake up!" Christian slapped him across the face as hard as he could manage, beginning to sob with helplessness. Apparently the blow was enough. Scott gasped once and his eyes flew open.

    He stared at Christian with a look of complete confusion in his eyes, then at the hall and the lights. He tried sitting upright, but Christian shoved him back onto the floor. He looked mildly outraged at this indignity. "I'm covered in my own filth. Let me up."

    "You weren't breathing, and you were unconscious. You need to stay still for a minute. Hang on." Christian went into Scott's room and pulled a blanket off his bed. Scott wasn't kidding about being covered in his own filth. From the smell of it, he had let loose from every orifice when he collapsed. Christian swallowed his own rising bile and went back into the somewhat cleaner air of the hallway. He draped the blanket over Scott, who had listened and stayed on the floor. Scott watched him with a strangely blank expression. "Look, I'm going to get my phone and call for an ambulance."

    "You won't. I assure you that I will be fine after I clean myself." Scott tried to sit up again, leading to Christian giving him another gentle push to the floor. "Let me up."

    "It's going to be a very cold shower. The power is out." Christian gestured to the emergency lights. "Look, they'll take you to the hospital and you can get cleaned up there."

    "Everything okay?" came a voice from the direction of the stairwell. "Everyone safe?" It was Doug, the Resident Director. Christian stood up as he approached. "What's that smell?"

    "Scott had an accident. He was unconscious and unresponsive and not breathing when I found him." Christian was suddenly very aware of his nudity under his bathrobe, and tightened it around his waist. "He keeps insisting that he doesn't need an ambulance." Doug looked serious.

    "You really should go to the hospital, Scott. This is not something to be taken casually." Doug crouched beside him. "Cripes, did you get sick on yourself?"

    "Yes, I am fine." Scott had a calculating look in his eyes, or maybe it was a trick of the orange light. "I ate something that disagreed with me, I was sick and I fainted. I'm fine." He tried to sit up again. Doug didn't prevent him. "How much longer until the power will return? I would like to bathe."

    "Oh, yeah." Doug blinked owlishly. "The maintenance guy is in the basement now, checking the fuses. He thinks one blew in a power surge from the storm." Even as he finished, the fluorescent lights flickered back to life. "Ah, see there? Good as new. Are you sure you don't need the hospital? It wouldn't be a terrible idea."

    "I really am fine, Doug. Thank you. And thank you, Christian, for making sure I was okay. I do appreciate your concern. Now, if you will excuse me, I need to clean my room and myself." Scott carefully got to his feet, then went into his room and shut the door. The lock clicked emphatically into place, ending any further discussion. Doug made a half-hearted excuse about checking the other floors and bid Christian good night. Troubled, Christian went back to his room. He slipped out of his robe and slippers and crawled back into bed. Sebastian grumbled and pressed against him, warm after the chilly air in the hallway.

    Christian was drifting toward sleep, watching the soft ruffle and flare of Sebastian's aura in a half-dream when something snapped him back to full wakefulness. He stared at the ceiling, his chill having nothing to do with the weather.

    Scott hadn't had an aura.