His eyes opening slowly, Edgar put a hand to his head, fighting back a world of soreness. For a moment, he thought he'd fainted from blood loss- it would have been embarrassing, but not entirely unexpected. However, he found himself in his bed; an end to the night had finally arrived.
He rose carefully, his hand immediately trailing to his injured shoulder. He felt thick bandaging through his clean shirt, his wound wrapped far better than his improvised job during the night. It seemed Landel showed some charity to the injuries sustained on the patient population during the night. Edgar couldn't help but feel that the false concern shown for the patients was even more of a slap in the face given what they faced during the twilight hours. He next inspected his leg- also bandaged, though lighter than his shoulder. Moving to his desk quietly, he opened the drawer to see if his finds had returned to the room with him. Surely enough, atop the parts of his radio and Luxord's was the silver knife, as ornate as he remembered. He moved his journal from atop his desk to the drawer, hiding the contents beneath it. He could investigate them later.
The night had been so long: Celes was gone, and Edgar's attitude toward her during their final meeting surely hadn't helped her in the slightest. It was likely she'd finally given in to Landel's brainwashing- it was a testament of his power to see a once-strong general so defeated. Worse was that she'd been right all along: there truly were beasts roaming the halls that were far more vicious than they seemed. All he could do now was take her warnings to heart and not allow himself to give in. Allowing Landel to win so easily wasn't an option.
Edgar straightened the fabric on his arm sling as his nurse knocked on the door and announced she'd be escorting him to the first shift. After a brief stop to the message board in the Sun Room and a few minutes spent looking out the windows, she led him upstairs and into the chapel. He headed for a middle pew and took a seat, turning and giving her a pleasant smile for now; he had to bide his time and act carefully, but he was through playing nice.
no subject
He rose carefully, his hand immediately trailing to his injured shoulder. He felt thick bandaging through his clean shirt, his wound wrapped far better than his improvised job during the night. It seemed Landel showed some charity to the injuries sustained on the patient population during the night. Edgar couldn't help but feel that the false concern shown for the patients was even more of a slap in the face given what they faced during the twilight hours. He next inspected his leg- also bandaged, though lighter than his shoulder. Moving to his desk quietly, he opened the drawer to see if his finds had returned to the room with him. Surely enough, atop the parts of his radio and Luxord's was the silver knife, as ornate as he remembered. He moved his journal from atop his desk to the drawer, hiding the contents beneath it. He could investigate them later.
The night had been so long: Celes was gone, and Edgar's attitude toward her during their final meeting surely hadn't helped her in the slightest. It was likely she'd finally given in to Landel's brainwashing- it was a testament of his power to see a once-strong general so defeated. Worse was that she'd been right all along: there truly were beasts roaming the halls that were far more vicious than they seemed. All he could do now was take her warnings to heart and not allow himself to give in. Allowing Landel to win so easily wasn't an option.
Edgar straightened the fabric on his arm sling as his nurse knocked on the door and announced she'd be escorting him to the first shift. After a brief stop to the message board in the Sun Room and a few minutes spent looking out the windows, she led him upstairs and into the chapel. He headed for a middle pew and took a seat, turning and giving her a pleasant smile for now; he had to bide his time and act carefully, but he was through playing nice.
[Natalia]